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Chapter Text

Tenzin is seventeen when his father finally (finally!) says that he’s earned his arrows. He nearly vibrates out of his skin with excitement and Aang beams proudly at him.

“Which temple would you like to go to?” he asks as they walk back to the house to tell the rest of the family the news.

Tenzin pretends to consider it, as if it isn’t something he’s been thinking about daily for the last four years.

“The Southern Air temple, like you.” He says.

His father stops walking, closing his eyes and taking a deep shuddering breath.

“Dad?”

Aang rests a heavy hand on his shoulder and when he opens his eyes to look at Tenzin they are overly bright.

“I’ll start on our travel plans first thing in the morning. But first, let’s go tell your mother the big news.”

Katara is thrilled and squeezes them both in a big hug. His father disappears into the temple to update the abbot and a few others who need to know that he’ll be gone for the next two weeks. Tenzin helps his mother pack some supplies and basic essentials into tightly woven baskets made by their family down south. Tenzin catches himself tracing the patterns of the carefully plaited and wax sealed lid around and around- the wolf for strength, a water spiral for smooth travel, a bird to ensure that they find land again- until his mom catches his hand.

“Nervous?” Katara asks gently, pulling him away from the baskets.

“More in shock still, I think.” Tenzin says as he lets himself be led to sit down. “There was definitely part of me that was starting to worry I’d really never be good enough to be a master.”

His mom squeezes his hand gently with a soft smile.

“Well, I always knew you’d get there.” Katara says certainly.

Tenzin resists rolling his eyes and bites back a laugh.

“You’re my mom, you have to say that.”

“I have never in my life said anything out of obligation and I have no intention of starting now.” She stands up and presses a kiss to the top of his head. “I’m so proud of you and I know your father is thrilled to bits. Travel safe and I’ll see you for your welcoming ceremony.”

“Thanks, mom.”

Tenzin stands and leaves the room, wandering a bit aimlessly until he finds himself outside in the quiet evening air. It’s a warm summer night, so he’s grateful for the light airbending robes as he stares up at the stars. He wonders if the starts are old ancestors or spirits looking down on them like some legends say. He wonders if Bumi or Kya are looking at the same stars as him or if they’re somewhere far enough away that they’re looking at entirely different constellations that night.

“I earned my tattoos.” Tenzin whispers, as if the stars would pass it along to them.

It brings a lump to his throat for some reason. Who is there to tell that will truly care or understand what it means to him?

He wanders down to the stables. Oogie lifts his head and grumbles a greeting when he spots him. Appa looks at him and flicks a lazy ear his way before going back to sleep.

“Hey, Oogie.” Tenzin pets his forelock, lingering on the loose arrow in his fur, before pressing his head against the bison’s. “Guess what? Dad said I earned my tattoos today! That means I’m a master airbender too, and I get matching arrows to you. Neat right?”

Oogie lets out a quiet roar and licks him happily. Tenzin laughs.

“I guess it’s easier for you, huh boy? No levels or forms to learn, you just get to fly and be a master at it.” Tenzin buries his face in Oogie’s fur. “You don’t have to worry about teaching your kids one day, they’ll just… know.”

He thinks about Lin and tries to picture them in the future- older, married, with kids. Maybe they would have a mix of bending types too, earth and air would definitely be possibilities, he thinks, maybe even water given his mother’s side of the family. But the more he tries to picture it, the more the image slips away from him. He shrugs it off. They’re young, it’s way too soon to be thinking about any of that.

Tenzin sits with Oogie a while longer, relaxing against his soft fur and the slow, steady breathing in the cave of the bison. Then he goes back up to his home and prepare himself for the next step of his life.

(Tomorrow, he’ll wake up early and go into the city for a celebratory breakfast with Lin and she’ll excitedly show him the acceptance letter she got from the official metalbending corps. They’ll toast their teacups together and celebrate how everything is going right for them.)

//

Less than two decades later, Tenzin watches the dim grey light of pre-dawn with blurred vison. He tries to focus on his morning meditation, the ritual of it, the let go, let go, let go…. The empty space beside him feels like the hollow of his own chest.

Hurried footsteps break what little concentration he’d managed, and Lin turns the corner, her hair thrown back haphazardly and still in civilian clothes.

“I came as soon as I got your note.” She breathes, kneeling beside him. Her eyes are red-rimmed as well when Tenzin meets her gaze. “Oh, Tenzin.”

Lin reaches out and pulls him into a tight hug. Tenzin clutches her tightly, burying his face in her shoulder.

He is sick of crying. It hasn’t even been a day and he is already sick of it. He doesn’t want this new and horrible ache in his chest, doesn’t want to carry it with him for the rest of his life.

He sobs into the soft cloth of Lin’s jacket, collapses into her in a way he hasn’t allowed himself to yet.

She holds him tightly and he can feel her shaking with her own tears alongside him.

Tenzin doesn’t know how long it’s been before he runs out of tears, for the moment. At some point, Lin shifted them to be half laying on the ground, a rough support bent up from the earth. He listens to her steady breathing and focuses on matching it.

“It is terrible,” he says quietly, voice rough and wet after several long minutes. “if all I can think is that know I truly understand him?”

He can feel the motion of Lin shaking her head above his own.

“No, but it’s not fair that you do.” She answers sadly.

Tenzin closes his eyes. They burn a little, but he simply has no more tears left. He focuses on Lin’s heartbeat, steady and sure as the rocks she bends so easily. It thuds reassuringly back at him. Lin’s fingers gently trace over his scalp along the edges of his tattoo, back and forth, back and forth. He lets the two rhythms wipe away the thoughts that keep running in circles in his head.

The last, the last, the last ….

Tenzin, son of Master Katara and Avatar Aang, now passed, the last airbendering master.

//

They reach the Southern Temple after a couple days of travel.

Tenzin is surprised when no one comes to greet them. He hops down off of Oogie and unloads his bags.

“Are the acolytes not here?” he asks as he helps his dad unload Appa’s saddle.

“I requested that they give us space during your ceremony and the preparation.” His father answers, handing him one of the baskets. Tenzin bites back a grimace as he reads between the lines- Abbot Shung was great, but he could be a bit over-bearing and had probably wanted to assist with the ceremony himself.

“Thanks.” Tenzin says, with maybe a bit too much relief if his dad’s muffled laugh is to be believed.

They put the few things they’d brought with them in their rooms- Tenzin in the cell he’d always liked because of the view of the sunrise, and his dad down the hall in one of the elder monk’s rooms. (He’d always stayed there, for as long as Tenzin could remember. He claimed it was more comfortable than the rooms set aside for the Avatar’s use.) They meet back out in the hall, his father holding two large woven baskets. He hands one to Tenzin with a slightly apologetic look.

“In the past,” he explains as they heft the baskets onto their backs and walk down to exit the temple proper to  start down a path to the lower gardens and orchards in the valley. “when there were regular tattoo ceremonies, there would be ink on hand. But we’re going to start fresh and then have a nice new batch to work with!”

“You know how to make it?” Tenzin asks, surprised. Aang sighs.

“In theory, but thankfully several of my past lives are willing to help, if you’re okay with that.”

Tenzin hesitates for a moment. He knows that his dad is the Avatar, and that him being the Avatar doesn’t make him any less of his dad, but it’s still sometimes a strange thing to contemplate. He hates the idea that his dad won’t really be present for such an important event in their lives, even though he knows there aren’t exactly other options.

“Sure,” He says. “that’s fine.”

It’s a long couple of hours down the side of the mountain until they reach a location his father identifies as where they need to be. It would have only taken them minutes on their gliders, but Tenzin likes to keep with tradition, so no bending until his tattoos are complete. (His feet ache in protest at him.)

“Ready?” Aang asks, looking at Tenzin. Tenzin nods.

Aang closes his eyes and takes a deeps breath. When he lets it out and opens his eyes, the Avatar looks back at Tenzin.

Tenzin trails behind the glowing figure of the Avatar as they identify the right types of bushes. They cut branches of the right suppleness and length, filling the large baskets strapped to their backs as they navigate the steep mountain side. It takes two days of low simmering and cooling, then another three of crushing and drying and mixing until the ink is deemed ready. During the long process to make the dye, Tenzin ventures out with the Avatar again to find the wood to create the tools needed. They cut down several slender, towering stems of bamboo and haul them back to the temple. Tenzin watches the Avatar carefully draw water from the fresh cuttings under they are dry and sturdy as in any Earth Kingdom house. The tubes are then carved into long needles with tips so sharp it makes Tenzin shiver. When the main carving is done, his father returns, clearly exhausted. He smiles tiredly at Tenzin.

“We should be ready to begin in the morning, sound good?”

Heart in his throat, Tenzin nods.

The next day, Tenzin wakes up before the dawn and makes the long trek from the temple to the waterfall that drapes down over one of the craggy ledges far below the temple grounds. He knows that this part isn’t necessary, mostly done by the nuns of the Eastern Temple anyway, but he wants to do this right. He only gets one opportunity for this in his life and he wants do as much of it properly, like all the airbenders that came before him.

Tenzin sets the bag he’d brought aside, out of reach of the water’s spray, along with his outmost robes. He shaves carefully, making sure to leave no odd hairs out of place. Old carvings loom above him in the stone of the mountain. The few features that can still be made out in the weather rock remind him of his Aunt Toph’s flat, watchful gaze.

Then he cautiously makes his way to sit under the waterfall itself. The initial shock of the icy water makes him flinch, stinging against the fresh skin of his scalp as he settles into an easy position for morning meditation. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, focusing on relaxing into the rhythm of the pounding water. Tenzin adjusts to the temperature of the water, the icy needles fading into a numb pressure. He lets himself drift and contemplates the generations who came before him. Pictures the hundred or thousands of monks who had come to this place and sat where he sits, with the same kind of thoughts running through their minds. The weight of the water on his shoulders feels almost like hands resting against his skin before they slip away again.

Tenzin can feel the rising sun slowly start to warm his feet when he finally opens his eyes. He carefully stretches and moves out of the waterfall. The dry, warm robes are a relief after the chill of the water, as is the container of hot tea he’d packed. He slowly comes back to his body as the warmth from the new sunlight and the tea in his hands and stomach seeps in. Tenzin closes his eyes and lets it sink in.

He feels at peace.

And he can feel with a strange certainty that, for today at least, he is not alone. They are not alone. The weight of the millennia of airbenders that came before him, that he will never truly know, has fallen away for the moment. With his eyes closed he can almost feel them with him. He knows that when he opens his eyes and returns to the temple, the echoes of their spirits will walk with him on this journey.

Tenzin takes a deep breath. Lets it out. And opens his eyes.

He’s ready.

//

Tenzin isn’t ready for this next part of his life.

It feels like the very ground under him has shifted and set him off-kilter in the world he thought he knew. It reminds him of when they were young and getting used to boating for the first time. He feels adrift and can’t quite bring himself back to the present. He can’t follow the thread of what’s happened in the conversation, still struggling to find his balance.

“We’re his children too!” Kya hisses angrily. (The fight is quiet, down on the beach in the cove of the island so that they don’t risk disturbing their mother or other family currently staying with them.)

Tenzin forces himself to bite his tongue.

You got a choice, he wants to say, to scream at them. You two were born with freedom, you got to choose. You weren’t given the task of being the Avatar’s waterbending teacher at your birth. You and Bumi both got to leave, you chose to leave. They don’t get to come back and be mad at him for this. They left. They made their choice.

When he was younger he’d been bitter and jealous of the freedom his two siblings had in their lives. He loves being an airbender, he loves carrying on and teaching their culture and having people find joy in it. He does. But there are days where the ink in his skin feels like it’s made of steel, slowing dragging him down with the weight of all it represents.

It’s something Bumi and Kya can never understand.

(As a child, there were nights where he’d go to bed and wish with all his might that his brother would wake up and be an airbender too. That he and dad wouldn’t be so alone anymore. But eventually he got old enough to realize that Bumi was well past the age that any bending capabilities would have shown up. This was something for him alone.)

When he’d first received his master’s tattoos they had made him feel like he could fly. His father was so proud. The family had a celebratory dinner together after the small unveiling ceremony they held in the island temple. Tenzin had learned about master’s tattoo ceremonies, how they were a gathering for the whole temple in the spring, after the yearly cleansing, with several days a feasts and celebrations for all the newly anointed. He had pushed back his hood and looked out at his family and the handful of acolytes who lived on the island smiling at him. He’d looked at his father, with pride and tears on his face as he bent a circle of air to carry the incense and ring the chimes around the room. Even here, in the midst of one of the best days of his life, he and his father carry an undercurrent of grief. For the dozens of airbenders that should have been there alongside him, the other masters that should have been ringing the chimes.

Tenzin and his father were always defined by loss.

The Last Airbender was a title that trailed after his father’s name even long after Tenzin’s birth. Avatar Aang, the last airbender, master of the elements, ender of the hundred-year war, hero and protector to the world. Tenzin hates it. Hates that they are constantly reminded of their greatest grief.

(Those outside of their family only ever meet Avatar Aang; gentle and smiling and seemingly able to work through the problems of the world with a few words and a wave of his hand. But they don’t know his father. They don’t know how he would make time to play games with them, to tell them stories of his travels and history, to teach them bending forms. How there were sometimes days where he would vanish, and their mother would quietly tell them that he just needed to rest for the day. The days that Tenzin remembers as a child where his father’s grief would weigh him down until he couldn’t even leave bed. He hadn’t thought about it until he was older. When they were young it was merely a fact of life- his father had days where he couldn’t get out of bed, his mother didn’t sleep during lightning storms or the full moon, don’t startle any of their aunts or uncles, and the sky is blue.)

//

Tenzin returns to the temple clear-headed and balanced. His father greets him with a hug. Tenzin returns it tightly.

“Ready?” Aang asks.

“Yes.” Tenzin answers. He pulls back from his father’s hold and puts a hand over his own chest. “They’re here with us today.”

His father gives him a gentle smile.

“They always are.”

Together they walk back into the temple. They pass the sculpture of Brother Gyatso at the entrance and Tenzin bows respectfully. His father pauses for a moment, bending to touch his forehead to where the wooden monk’s hands rest together. He murmurs something that Tenzin can’t hear before straightening up and continuing onward.

They settle into the room his father had prepared and Tenzin sets up upper robes aside. He eyes the long, sharp needles they’d prepared for a moment- there are seven, one for each limb, his back, and head, plus extra just in case- then lays down on the table. As he settles down, he remembers that the tattoos were traditionally spirit-guided. He smothers a snort- he wonders if there are any arbitrary points earned by having his tattoos very literally spirit-given.

His father’s warm hand rests briefly on his shoulder so he doesn’t startle him as he applies the guiding ink lines to his legs. The white light of the Avatar is bright in the room and Tenzin closes his eyes.

The dull burn of the needle slowly fades into a background kind of hum. Tenzin focuses on simple mantras that he can repeat and not focus on the gentle pain slowly spreading across his back. He knows that normally this would be the work of several monks or nuns working together to work from the feet upwards in tandem. Tenzin just has his father, sometimes not even him as he communes with the other Avatars for guidance.

(Tenzin knows what this ceremony should be, what the masters welcoming ceremony should be, and has known for a long time that he would never have it. He gave up being bitter about it, has done his grieving for the traditions he knows by heart, into his bones, but will never be able to have for himself. Maybe someday he will be able to gift it to someone else- his children or maybe a niece or nephew.)

The pot of thick healing salve is not traditional, from Fire Nation healers, a gift from his Uncle Zuko who swears by it. The strong smell of herbal tea and medicine makes Tenzin’s nose wrinkle as his father daubs a thick layer on over the tops of his feet and the winding pattern up to his knees, followed by a layer of broad steamed leaves bound into place by soft cloth wound around over the top. (He can also feel the subtle healing tingle as his father guides some water over his skin before applying the poultice and bindings. His mother may be the renowned healer, but his father could do a dab hand for bumps, bruises, and scrapes.)

A day for each section of his legs, to ensure grounding. A day for each section of his arms, for guidance. A day for his back, for connection and balance. A day for his head, for wisdom and light. And one day of rest and meditation before being presented to the world as a master.

After the final day, Tenzin is finally able to look at his reflection. He gingerly touches the tender skin of his forehead, staring at the blue ink standing out against his skin. He finally feels at home in his skin, as if he has been waiting all his life to carry this ink with him. He dresses in the soft, formal robes before seeking out his father. Aang is waiting for him in the kitchens with breakfast sitting out for them.

He looks up when Tenzin enters. Tenzin grins widely at him. His father gives him a watery smile in return, letting out a low chuckle when Tenzin steps forward and hugs him tightly, uncaring of his tender skin.

“Congratulations,” he says, voice rough. “you did so very well, I couldn’t be more proud.”

Tenzin feels like he might be able to fly without even bending he feels so light.

//

Tenzin knows he resembles his father, even without the tattoos and robes.

Normally, knowing this is a comfort, something he’s proud of. A constant reminder of the legacy and culture he’s been tasked with carrying. (Most days this is something he cherishes, this connection between him and his father, but there are days where it feels like a boulder resting on his chest.)

For the first time in his life, he avoids mirrors.

He knows that it’s hard for his family too.

Tenzin catches his mother having to compose herself when he catches her off-guard entering a room, sees how Kya looks him purposefully in the eye and nowhere else, how Bumi can only glance at him.

He looks like his father and his father is gone.

Tenzin feels like a ghost in his own home.

(They do not even speak his father’s name, keep it tucked behind their teeth and bitten back on their tongues so that they do not risk confusing his spirit by having his family accidentally calling him back in the hundred days of travel to final rest. His father may not have been Water Tribe by birth, but he was theirs all the same. Tenzin loathes the small part of himself that wants to say his name, to make him come back to them, even though he knows he won’t.)

He sees his mother and siblings off on their respective boats, watching from the island until they are specks on the horizon, before he goes on a retreat. He lets his family, Lin, and the head acolytes of the temple know where he’s going.

(In the weeks before he leaves, he finds himself meditating, concentrating, hoping….

“You know even if you make into the spirit world, you won’t find him.” Bumi’s voice is soft behind where he sits. Tenzin can picture his brother’s stance without needing to turn around- he knows Bumi is leaning easily against the doorframe, hovering without crossing the threshold of the meditation room. He clenches his jaw.

“What would you know about it?” Tenzin snaps, before he can help himself.

He regrets it almost as soon as he says it. He turns around to apologize, but he meets his brother’s hurt glare for only a split second before Bumi turns on his heel and is gone before Tenzin can even open his mouth.)

He and Oogie fly north away from the city and Tenzin doesn’t look back at it.

//

When Tenzin is fifteen, he runs away from home.

It’s easier for him than most (or just about any other kid on the planet). He carefully slips out of his window and sneaks across the island to the stables. Oogie opens an eye to look at him and whuffs questioningly.

“Shh, quietly okay?” Tenzin whispers, shooting a nervous glance at a slumbering Appa.

They sneak out of the stables and take off from the island without being noticed.

Tenzin is full of a horrible, directionless anger. He can’t decide what exactly he’s furious with- his parents, himself, the world, everything. It’s awful, everything in the world is awful and he feels like he’s swallowed acid. Tenzin can almost hear his father’s voice in his ears with one of his oh-so-wise sayings about anger and it makes him want to scream.

He and Oogie fly aimlessly for a while. Just putting distance between himself and the city makes the tension drop from his shoulders a bit. (A small part of him feels guilty. He didn’t even leave a note.) Tenzin tries to think of anyone who would possibly understand what he’s dealing with. Then he tugs on Oogie’s reins and alters their course slightly.

(His mother, uncle, and grandfather had all taught them how to navigate by the stars. The stories his grandfather told them about the constellations were his favorite. The Hunter and The Maiden, GreatFish, Bridge of Stars, and all the others. His uncle had whispered the story of the brave and dutiful Moon Princess to him as they sat outside on a freezing cold, clear, night. The moon had been bright and full, the rest of their family asleep or off doing waterbending training. Tenzin had stared up at the moon- a lone silver disk eternally committed to her important never-ending work in the sky- and wondered if she was lonely being so far away from all the other stars.)

He lands at the Fire Nation capital by mid-afternoon and almost feels bad for startling the guards at the stables. But he forces that away and ignores them instead, focusing instead on brushing Oogie down and getting him settled in his usual stall.

“You do realize that your parents are two of the few people in the world who could get away with assassinating me for kidnapping their child right? You’re fine risking your poor old uncle’s life like this? Your mother would have my head on a pike.”

Tenzin pointedly doesn’t look over.

“Hi, Uncle Zu.”

The Fire Lord comes into his peripheral vision, hands tucked easily in his wide sleeves as he watches Tenzin fiddle with his saddle. He waits patiently. Tenzin runs out of things to do with Oogie or his tack and stands awkwardly for a long moment before he can steel himself to face his uncle.

“Um. Can I stay in a guest room tonight?”

Zuko raises his eyebrow at him.

“That will depend on your answers to a few questions. Number one, will it cause any kind of international incident if you’re here?”

Tenzin shakes his head.

“Number two, do your parents know you’re here right now?”

Tenzin hunches his shoulders.

“No.”

“Number three, do you want to share the reason you’re here?”

“No, I don’t know, I just… I just couldn’t be at home right now.” Tenzin mutters.

His uncle gives him a measured look for a long moment.

“You may stay, under a few conditions. First, I’m going to send a notice to Republic City so that your parents know that you’re safe. Second, you accompany me for some tea. Third, you have to make it look like we’re discussing some kind of official business, because your timing got me out of two meetings with some very stuffy advisors who did not appreciate it.” The Fire Lord tells him with a completely deadpan face.

Tenzin forces himself not to laugh. He is determined to hang on to his horrible mood.

“Okay.”

His uncle nods and turns to leave the stables. Tenzin follows him after a quick goodbye scratch to Oogie’s head. He gets shown to the guest room he’s used since he was little. He stares in the mirror for a moment. Then in a fit of pique, he yanks the yellow and orange robes off and changes into one of the soft silk outfits left in the wardrobe. The red and black is jarring in it’s unfamiliarity, but it suits how he feels at the moment. A palace employee shows him the way to where he’s to meet his uncle for tea. (As if he hasn’t been visiting here off and on since he was a baby.)

They end up in a small side courtyard at the back of the palace. Tenzin leans back on his palms, purposefully letting his legs sprawl out in front of himself. His uncle slowly makes a small pot of tea, the faint green, smokey scent of the steeping tea leaves drifting through the air. If he is surprised by Tenzin’s change in outfit, he doesn’t show it. Tenzin tips his head back, then lets his whole body fall back, laying in the soft grass and enjoying the sun on his face.

He sits up when he hears the soft sound of teacups being filled and set on the little table in front of them.

“Thanks, Uncle Zu.” He says as he takes the small cup on his side. The tea is a strong, smokey blend, so different from the usual gentle fruity or earthy teas at home. It’s refreshing.

The Fire Lord nods in acknowledgement and they sit quietly as they enjoy their tea. It’s like meditation, but it’s not, Tenzin thinks. Eventually the tea runs out and Tenzin sighs.

“Should I be concerned about why you felt you couldn’t stay at home?” Zuko’s voice is mild, his eyes closed as he tips his head back to absorb the warm sunlight.

Tenzin draws his legs up to wrap his arms around and rests his chin on top.

“No. It’s just… I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“Take what?”

Tenzin gestures vaguely, trying to think.

“I’m just… I’m mad.”

His uncle nods, clearly pondering.

“About what?”

“I don’t know! I just am.” Tenzin lets his frustration into his tone.

“Are you mad at anyone in your family?”

“No!”

“Someone not in your family?” His uncle continues patiently as he refreshes the tea leaves in the pot.

“No, I-“

“Something that happened?”

Tenzin lets go of his legs.

“Nothing happened, it’s just-“

“Something someone did?”

“I’m mad at myself!” Tenzin yells, slamming his hands down on the ground. The accidental blast of wind shoots straight up, completely rumpling their clothes and flattening a nearby bush in the aftershock. “I didn’t… I didn’t ask for this, I don’t- what if I’m not any good? It’s not fair! It’s not like I asked to be an airbender!”

His breath catches in his throat and his eyes burn. He grips the ground under his hands tightly.

“You know, I never asked to be Fire Lord.” His uncle says, voice calm and even. “It was something I was born into and I knew I would have to serve my people for as long as I can remember.”

“At least you have a people to serve.” Tenzin snaps bitterly. Then he squeezes his eyes shut, biting back the apology that tries to escape. His uncle is quiet for a long moment.

“True enough.” He says eventually. “But why don’t you think you’ll be any good at whatever it is you think you’ll be bad at?”

Tenzin mutters under his breath. Zuko leans towards him.

“Didn’t quite catch that.”

“Because Dad doesn’t think I’m any good at airbending!”

He sneaks a glance at his uncle only to find a bewildered look on his face.

“Tenzin, if your father were to be any prouder of you and your siblings I’d have to start scheduling in an extra two hours for our official meetings. I’ve only recently been able to whittle him down to a half hour of talking about you kids and your accomplishments.”

Tenzin focuses his glare at an undeserving blade of grass.

“Yeah, well, I know he’s proud of me and everything, but it’s not like he ever asks me to do anything official. I want to be a proper representative and leader of our people, but he doesn’t think I’m capable. It’s like I’m never going to catch up to where I need to be.”

“Tenzin, you’re only fifteen, you have the rest of your life left to learn everything. There’s plenty of time before you need to be a leader for the acolytes or anyone else.”

(He remembers this, through a haze of grief less than twenty years later when he inherits his father’s least coveted title. Plenty of time to learn. He will never feel he has learned enough.)

“I haven’t even earned my tattoos yet! I can’t even master airbending and that’s all I’m even good at.” Tenzin squeezes his knees. “Dad had already been a master for three years when he was my age.”

“I think it’s a bit unfair to compare yourself to Aang, who is an annoyingly talented bender even without being the Avatar.” Zuko says dryly.

Tenzin huffs.

“Whatever.”

They sit quietly for a few minutes, Tenzin shifting his chin to look up at the clouds passing by in the blue sky.

“Has your father ever told you about how he found out he was the Avatar?” His uncle asks.

Tenzin shakes his head.

“No. Just that the elders in the temple told him before he got frozen.”

“The traditional age for the Avatar to begin training or to even officially know that they’re the Avatar is sixteen. Obviously, some find out sooner if they are more prodigious at bending, but it’s not required for them to assume any duties or serious training until sixteen.” Zuko says quietly. “Aang was twelve. The only reason he was told so soon was because there was fear of war on the horizon. He’d thought they were training him to take charge of the temple one day. Instead it was to care for the entire world.”

“Well, he does that now.” Tenzin points out.

“He wasn’t always Avatar Aang, you know. When we first became friends, he was just Aang.” Zuko shifts in his seat, adjusting his robes to let his legs adjust. “He had to learn a lot of hard lessons those first few years. The rest of us had grown up in the war, while he’d had to wake up and adjust to every terrible thing that had happened in his absence, and then he had to take on the responsibility of the Avatar at an even younger age than you are now. Do you feel ready to help bring an end to conflict throughout the entire world?”

“No, but-“ Tenzin is about to protest when Zuko cuts him off.

“Your father doesn’t want you feeling that kind of pressure or responsibility yet, Tenzin.” His uncle’s voice is still gentle. “He knows what it is like taking on too much, too young. I became Fire Lord when I was only a little older than you are, and between the two of us we likely would have killed ourselves in the process of trying to help the world recover from the war if it hadn’t been for our friends and advisors.”

Zuko reaches out a hand and puts it on Tenzin’s shoulder.

“It is okay to take your time, Tenzin. Your father is just trying to make sure that you get to have your childhood. And if you feel ready to take on more responsibility, talk with him. I’m sure you two could figure something out.”

Tenzin sighs.

“What if he won’t listen?”

Zuko gives him an amused look.

“I don’t know if you know this, Tenzin, but your father is actually rather good at negotiations and compromises to make sure people get treated fairly.” He pulls his hand back and sets about cleaning up the tea set. “Do you really think that he wouldn’t want to hear what you have to say?”

“….no, he always listens.”

“I understand what it’s like to be afraid of not living up to your father’s expectations. And I know what it’s like to never be able to reach them.” Zuko sets the small tray with the tea set aside. “Tenzin, you’ve already exceeded your dad’s wildest dreams, just by existing. But if you feel like there’s more you want to do, just talk to him about it.”

Tenzin lets out a long breath.

“Okay. But not yet.”

The Fire Lord nods understandingly. Then he hefts himself up to his feet and holds out a hand for Tenzin. Tenzin takes it and gets up as well, automatically picking up the tea set.

“Plus, now you have something else in common with your father aside from airbending.” His uncle says as they head to leave the courtyard. Tenzin gives him a puzzled look.

“I do?”

“Yeah, now both of you have run away from home.” Zuko quirks a grin at Tenzin, who stops abruptly in his tracks.

“Dad ran away from home? When?”

“Oh, you’ll have to ask him about that, it’s not my story to tell. Neither is that time we broke out of a military fortress. Will you make sure that that tea set makes it back to my study? Thank you. I’ll see you later for dinner if my meetings don’t run overtime.” His uncle waves over his shoulder to Tenzin, who has stayed frozen in his spot watching the retreating back of the Fire Lord.

“Uncle Zu!” He cries reproachfully.

//

He finds himself at the Northern Air Temple first.

The library here is more limited than he is used to, but he finds himself unable to concentrate on the usually enthralling information. He wanders the temple and grounds instead, meandering the familiar routes.

He stops on the edge of one of the wide balconies, staring out over the mountains. The sun is warm as the perpetual breeze ruffles his cape and robes. Tenzin closes his eyes. He can almost feel the weight of his father’s hand on his shoulder as they stand looking out, his father pointing out the different peaks and their names and purposes.

He retreats back to the library and is surprised to find one of the acolytes in his vacated seat. Her brown hair is tucked up into a sensible bun at the base of her neck as she leans over the scroll he’d left on the desk, clearly enthralled with something she’d found.

Tenzin steps purposefully and lets his robes swish so that he doesn’t startle her. (He has had to pick up a few things to avoid accidental injury during a lifetime of unintentionally sneaking up behind people.)

The air acolyte waves a hand vaguely in his direction without looking away from the scroll.

“Just one more minute, Brother Jin-wei, then I’ll be on my way back to the kitchen to finish up.”

Tenzin stares at her, bemused. He stands awkwardly in the aisle until she eventually looks up and her eye go wide.

“Oh, Master Tenzin, I didn’t see you there.”

“It’s quite alright, it just seems that you’ve taken more of an interest in my afternoon reading than I was able to.” He sits down on the low reading bench next to the desk. “Apologies, I don’t think we’ve met before.”

“No, we haven’t. I’m Acolyte Pema.” She says, bobbing her head in a quick bow. Pema seems to be studying his face when she looks back up, and he waits for the inevitable comment. “I didn’t realize how much you look like your mother.”

Pema slaps a hand over her mouth, looking mortified. Tenzin blinks at her.

“I… don’t think I’ve ever had someone tell me that before.” He admits honestly. Pema loses the tension in her posture and smiles at him.

“Well, it’s true. Your eyes especially. Master Katara always comes down to help in the kitchen when she visits, so I’ve met her a few times. She’s friends with my Uncle Teo.”

Tenzin can easily picture his mother jumping to help the acolytes cook in the wide kitchen spaces in the temple, her blue robes covered in flour standing out among the soft yellows and oranges of the air temple robes, standing next to Pema as they talk and prepare the food like he’d seen her do some many times in his life. It makes something go tight in his throat and he looks away, fingers twitching as he stops himself from reaching for the white scarf draped along his shoulder sash. (He is grateful how she deftly avoids the topic of his father. For now it is far to raw a wound. He doesn’t think he could handle it, not here, not yet.)

The awkward momentary pause doesn’t seem to faze Pema.

“So when I’m not working in the kitchens or helping out somewhere else, I like to come here to read and keep everything organized.” She continues, gesturing to the shelves around them. “A lot of the titles are unhelpful for figuring out where they belong, so reading them through is the only way to get a true idea of what they’re about. It’s been so fascinating.”

“You’ve actually read all of these? And… sorted the library?” Tenzin is surprised. Most acolytes do the reading of the main philosophies and histories, but don’t bother going beyond them. Pema looks sheepish.

“Yeah, it was just driving me nuts trying to find texts on different topics, and Jai is supposed to be in charge of it, but just kind of let me do what I wanted after a while. I’ve been cataloguing everything in here.”

Tenzin laughs at her boldness, then abruptly cuts himself off, shocked. Pema looks confused for a moment, then understanding.

“It’s been about a month right?” she asks gently. Tenzin closes his eyes and nods. “Do… are you okay to talk about him or would you rather I went on about the system I’ve developed for the texts here?”

“….the texts, if you don’t mind.” Tenzin opens his eyes when a hand takes his own.

Pema smiles at him again and stands, tugging gently at his hand.

“Let me show you, it’s easier if we go through the shelves. So, over here I…”

Tenzin trails behind her, listening intently to the detailed system Pema had developed over the course of reading the various texts. It’s loosens the tight knot in his chest slightly, hearing someone as passionate as him talking about his culture, his people. The tour of library eventually devolves into a conversation about the differences in philosophies between the different temples throughout the eras.

Tenzin doesn’t realize how long they’ve been talking until he looks up when the bells for evening gathering ring through the temple. Pema looks startled as well, setting down her bowl of noodles that they’d picked up from the kitchen earlier.

“Oh, gracious I didn’t even realize how late it’s gotten.” She says, surprised.

“Me either.” Tenzin admits.

They gather up their dishes and materials, setting things to rights before heading out to join the other acolytes for the evening. The sun dips behind the horizon and Pema waves her goodnights to him from across the courtyard before vanishing for some duties. Tenzin sits out in the courtyard until the sun finishes setting. He relishes the odd contentment that has swept over him for the afternoon. He hasn’t felt this light and happy since… He stands and makes his way to his room for the night.

Tenzin finds that he can’t sleep well, even with the familiar quiet sound of temple life and the breezes around the towers of the Northern Temple. Out of all the original air temples, he’d always felt the most at home here. Part of it was it being the one he’d visited the most growing up, seeing it transform throughout his childhood. Part of it was that it felt like the most… his- Yangchen’s shadow still looms large in the Eastern and Western temples even centuries later, and the Southern Temple is his father’s childhood home. The Northern temple was always a refuge for him. But not tonight, it would seem. Tenzin sighs and gets out of bed, resigning himself to a night of contemplation instead of sleep.

He paces out and around the temple grounds to one of the tallest towers, overlooking the surrounding mountains.  He settles on the wide platform built out beyond the window. Originally it was a platform for glider take-off, but Tenzin has left his staff back in his room. The slow night breezes should be left alone, he thinks.

To his great surprise, he’s not the only one to retreat to this secluded platform. Acolyte Pema is sitting in a relaxed half-lotus just beyond the curve of the wall. He’s about to retreat back into the tower when she speaks.

“You can stay, it’s okay.” She says, not moving her gaze from the night sky. When he doesn’t move, she pats the platform beside her firmly.

Tenzin climbs out onto the platform, settling into the familiar position.

“I didn’t think anyone else would be out here.” He says.

“None of the other acolytes come up here, for obvious reasons-“ Pema glances down the long drop beyond the platform. “-so I find it a nice place to get some true alone time.”

“Were you contemplating something in the sky?”

Pema huffs out a laugh, then points up at the moon.

“It’s a full moon tonight. I like to catch some of the lucky moonbeams.” She cups her hands as if she can scoop the moonbeams out of thin air. “You can take the girl out of the Earth Kingdom, but you can’t take all the Earth Kingdom superstitions out of the girl I guess.”

“I used to talk to the moon, when I was a kid.” Tenzin says, joining Pema in staring up at the bright silvery disk.

“Did it ever talk back?” She asks.

Tenzin huffs out a soft laugh and shakes his head slightly.

“No, I don’t think so. My uncle and parents met her once though.”

“Met who?”

“The moon.” Pema finally looks over at him with a quizzical brow. Tenzin finds himself unable to stop a tiny smile from curling the corners of his mouth. He leans back against the tower wall. “It was my favorite story when I was a child- my uncle telling me about the brave princess who became the moon during the great Battle of the North.”

“Why did you like it so much?” Pema asks, shifting her position to let her feet dangle out over the edge.

Tenzin ponders the question for a long moment.

“I… haven’t thought about it. I suppose I liked how even though she couldn’t fight or truly face the enemy that threatened her people, Yue’s sacrifice is what ended up saving them in the end. D- Avatar Aang always speaks… spoke fondly of her.” He says eventually.

Pema is quiet for a moment, thinking his answer over.

“You must miss him a lot.” She says.

The conversation pauses for a long moment. Beyond his own family, no one has addressed him quite so bluntly. He pushes the thought away.

“Avatar Aang taught me that it’s like a wave in the ocean.” Tenzin says quietly, looking out into the distance over the dimly lit mountains. “The wave is just another way for the water to be, for a time. It’s not a sad thing, dying, just another part of life. The wave returning to the ocean.”

Pema shifts in her seat next to him, drawing her legs up from the ledge.

“Just because it’s a natural part of life doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to be sad about your father dying, Tenzin.” She says gently. “He might have been the Avatar to most of the world, but I’m sure he was much more than that to you and your family.”

Tenzin turns his face away from her, jaw clenching. His shoulder twitches like he wants to hunch down under his cloak for a moment. Pema waits patiently.

She closes her eyes and lets herself enjoy the light breeze that swirls around them and the silvery light of the moon above them. After several long moments, the rustle of fabric and a hitched breath causes her to open them again. Tenzin sits next to her, his face hidden in his hands as his shoulders shake. Pema extends a hand, cautiously touching his arm.

“I don’t know how to do this without him here to guide me.” He admits hoarsely.

Pema pulls him into a hug, tucking her chin over top the soft skin of his scalp. It’s an awkward position for a hug, but he grips at her arm across his chest like a lifeline.

“I’m sure that he prepared you the best that he could.” She says. “And you’re one of the most respected bending masters in the world, so even if you aren’t sure, I have every faith that you’ll be able to figure it out.”

“It would be nice to believe that right now.”

“Well, then I’ll just have to have enough belief for the both of us until you find it again.” She says firmly.

//

The first time they are attacked while traveling, Tenzin is seven.

He and his father are traveling back from a trip to the Western Air Temple when something shoots up out of the trees below them. Appa gives an annoyed bellow and climbs higher into the sky as more projectiles are flung from the treeline. Tenzin clings to the saddle tightly, knuckles white. When they don’t let up after a few agonizing minutes, his father turns back to look at him, face serious.

“Tenzin, I’m sorry but I must ask you to be brave.” His father grabs his staff from the saddle and sits Tenzin down on Appa’s broad head. He hands him the reigns and Tenzin looks up at him with wide, fearful eyes.

“Keep going towards home, I’ll catch up with you in a bit, okay? I just don’t want you or Appa getting hurt.”

Tenzin nods and his father vanishes into the clouds below.

(It’s been thirty-odd years, but Tenzin can stills feel the bite of the rope in his hands, the pounding of his heart as he sat frozen in terror.)

It takes forever, or maybe just a few minutes before Tenzin hears the familiar swoosh of his father’s glider. Appa lurches slightly under him as Aang lands in the saddle behind him.

“Dad?”

“I’m here, it’s okay, Tenzin.” Something in his dad’s voice sounds wrong. Tenzin twists in his seat to try and see into the saddle. “Don’t look back, just fly as fast as we can back home, okay? Can you do that?”

Tenzin nods shakily.

“Appa, yip yip!”

The clouds blur past them. Tenzin doesn’t relax until he sees the familiar outline of their island come into view. They land with a thump.

“Dad? We’re home.” There’s no answer from behind him. “Dad?”

Tenzin almost turns and climbs back into the saddle. But he’d been told not to. And his dad isn’t answering.

“Avatar Aang!” He mimics his mother’s tone when she’s serious about getting his attention.

The saddle stays quiet.

He tries not to panic. Appa grumbles and shifts uneasily under him. He turns and scrambles up to the saddle.

“Dad, this isn’t fun-“ He freezes.

The side of the saddle is soaked in blood. His dad is slumped against the side, one arm tied down to the saddle with rope. His robes are stained and he….

Tenzin runs faster than he ever has in his entire life across the island.

His mother is in her office and not in the city hospital and Tenzin almost bursts into tears when he slams the door open and sees her there. His mom jumps.

“Tenzin? What-“

“It’s dad, dad’s hurt, there were people throwing stuff at us and he said to fly home and not to look, but he’s not getting up and-“ Tenzin feels the hysteria creeping up on him. His mom is already moving, slinging some waterskins over her shoulder as she stands.

“Where?”

Tenzin runs alongside her quick strides.

“He’s on Appa, the knots are too tight, I couldn’t-“

He’s never seen his mom run so fast.

They make it back to where Appa is sitting unhappily. He greets them with a concerned growl. Tenzin watches his mom use waterbending to leap right up into the saddle. He can hear her use several words that Bumi told him to never, ever use. She looks back over the edge of the saddle.

“Tenzin, can you go get Sister Liu and tell her to prepare my healing room? Then wait in my office, okay?”

Tenzin nods and speeds off, heart pounding.

He gets the acolytes and sits himself in the chair in his mother’s study. The sound of people rushing around the temple halls is only slightly muffled through the paper walls. Tenzin pulls his knees up and squeezes them tightly, trying to focus on some of the breathing exercises he knows. Every time he closes his eyes all he can see is his dad, laying in the saddle, unmoving, and… and…. He refocuses on his breathing.

He's seen his mom heal his dad before, on the days where his back hurt, or if he messed up in training. He’s going to be fine. Tenzin makes it a mantra in his head as he breathes. His dad is going to be fine, he’s going to..

He doesn’t know how long it is until the door to his mother’s workroom slides open. Tenzin looks up and stares wide-eyed at his mother as she stands in the doorway.

“He’s going to be fine, baby.” Katara tells him tiredly. “Your dad is going to need to take it easy for a few days, but he’s going to be okay.”

Tenzin can feel his lip wobble wildly out of his control a moment before he bursts into tears. His mother immediately scoops him up into her arms.

“Oh, baby, you did such a good job and were so brave. That was scary, wasn’t it?” Katara says soothingly.

He nods, clinging to his mother tightly.

“Let’s go see dad before getting some dinner. He asked to see you. Does that sound good?”

Tenzin nods again and is quietly grateful that she doesn’t put him down as they leave her office. He’s also glad that Bumi and Kya aren’t here to call him a baby. His mom slides open the door to his parent’s bedroom and Tenzin can see his dad lying in bed wearing his casual robes. There are bandages peeking out on his shoulder and he doesn’t sit up when they come in.

“Hey little buddy.” Aang smiles at Tenzin as Katara set him down next to the bed.

Tenzin looks his dad over worriedly for a moment before flinging himself forward to hug him. Aang flinches over Tenzin’s shoulder as he returns the tight hug.

“Easy, Tenz, easy.”

Tenzin relaxes his grip slightly but doesn’t move. His dad’s arms are strong around him and Tenzin can hear him breathing and he isn’t bleeding in the saddle or laying still anymore or…. Tenzin doesn’t move when his mom tries to tug him away.

He can hear his parent’s voices over his head in a short conversation. Then his mom lifts him up and tucks him on his dad’s side, instead of on top of him. Tenzin can hear his mom talking quietly as she sits down next to the bed and feels the low vibrations of his father answering against his cheek. The exhaustion of the day finally catches up to him and he falls asleep to the reassuring steadiness of his father’s breathing under his ear.

As long as we are breathing, he reminds himself sleepily.

//

Tenzin wakes up late. He blinks in surprise at the amount of bright sunlight coming through the window. He gets up and goes through his morning routine, ducking out to a quiet courtyard for a brief meditation before heading down to the lower structures of the temple for some breakfast.

“Good morning!” Pema calls, waving a floury hand as he steps through the swinging doors to the kitchens.

She has a smudge of flour across her nose and cheek, her hair hastily tied up out of the way as she works. A few strands have fallen free to frame her face. She smiles at him for a moment before returning to the lump of dough in her hands.

“Someone slept in.” She teases as he pilfers a roll and some cheese from the pantry, and setting a kettle to boil before sitting down at a stool near her workstation. Tenzin can feel the tips of his ears go faintly red and can tell by the bitten-back grin on Pema’s face that she’d noticed.

“I don’t think I’ve slept in so late since I was a teenager.” He says honestly. “Or quite so well.” He adds after a moment of thought.

Pema’s expression softens and she sets aside the dough in a pot covered in waxcloth before dumping out another bowl of partially risen dough.

“That’s good, no one can get anything done properly if they don’t sleep well.”

The kettle boils and Tenzin sets to making tea, bringing the pot and some cups back with him. He sets one of the fresh cups near Pema’s counterspace and she shoots him a grateful smile. He finishes eating and watches the steady, practiced motions of her hands as she pulls buns into existence from the dough.

“You mentioned working in the kitchen before, is it something you enjoy?” He asks curiously.

“I like cooking.” Pema says simply, hands not ceasing their rhythm with the dough. “The spiritual side of things in practice is a bit beyond me at times, but making sure that people always have a full stomach is easy and straightforward. Can’t concentrate on any spiritual enlightenment if you’re distracted by your stomach!”

She sets the dough into a waiting bowl and covers it with a cloth before setting it aside. Then she hands Tenzin a small knife, an apron, and shoves him to sit on a stool before thunking a bucket of yams down in front of him.

“If you’re going to hover and talk, your hands are free to help out.” Pema’s eyes glitter with mirth as she steps away to return to the counter, pulling out a different bowl of dough and starts rolling it out to shape it.

Tenzin smiles at her and sets to work. It’s nice to have simple busywork among the acolytes. They chat easily over their work, interrupted by the occasional acolyte needed instruction from Pema. A couple of hours pass this way, the temple slowly waking up around them. Pema wipes some flour off of her cheek and plants her hands on her hips as she scans the kitchen as they finish up for the morning.

He’s suddenly caught with the rays of morning sun highlighting the curve of her cheek as she smiles at him.

Pema is beautiful and kind and smart and caring and blunt and....

“I need to go.” He blurts out. He stands abruptly and hurries down to the stables.

//

Tenzin is twenty when he gets to go on his first solo trip as representative of the Air Nation and part of the delegation from Republic City to Ba Sing Se. His father is busy in a far island of the Fire Nation, and the usual representatives from the temples are occupied with the upcoming festival days, so it falls to Tenzin. He is as excited as he is nervous as he and Oogie land in the designated courtyard in the royal palace. The run-through of formal Earth Kingdom greetings and introductions to people he’s met before even though they all have to pretend otherwise, as well as a rundown of the schedule of meetings the next day takes the afternoon. By the time Tenzin makes it to the house designated for use by the Avatar and his family, he’s exhausted from trivial social niceties. The next day passes in a string of meetings that blur into each other and Tenzin sighs in relief when the day comes to an end. After the next couple of days pass much the same say, Tenzin allows himself to relax slightly.

He dons a slightly more inconspicuous outfit (he hates not feeling like he can proudly wear his robes or display his arrows, but he’s simply not in the mood to be stared at or approached by strangers) and makes his way to the tea shop. The Jasmine Dragon is as comforting place as it always has been. Tenzin can feel the last of the tension from the day fade out of his neck as he crosses the threshold and sees Iroh behind the counter, wiping at some cups as he puts them away. He approaches the counter and Iroh looks up, breaking into a warm smile as he spots him. He takes in Tenzin’s head covering and Earth Kingdom garb with a calculating eye.

“I was wondering when you would stop by, Junior, how rude to keep elders waiting two whole days to see your face!” Iroh wags a cheerfully reproachful finger at him before turning a plucking a pot from the shelf behind him. “Has your order changed?”

The shop is mostly empty at this time of day, but Tenzin is still grateful for Iroh’s discretion.

“My apologies for keeping you waiting, uncle.” He says, settling onto a stool and leaning on the counter. “And no, the same as usual, please.”

Iroh boils the tea with the pot in his own hands instead of going back to the kitchen, telling Tenzin about some of his more eccentric customers in the last few months. Tenzin is content to sit and listen, occasionally chiming in with something he’d done or seen since he’d seen Iroh last. Eventually, Iroh sets the pot of sweet purple tea, a cup, and a plate of crisp rice cakes down in front of him and shoos him away from the counter.

“Go, sit, relax, we will talk properly after I close up.”

Tenzin obeys, retreating and taking his dishes to a comfortable corner cushion at the end of the row of pai sho tables. He sits and lets his mind drift- the warmth of the teacup in his hands, the slight, steady noises of the teashop around him, the slight crunch of the rice between his teeth. There is a couple on a date at a far table, sharing tea and conversation. (Tenzin pangs briefly with jealousy, the distance between himself and Republic City where Lin is hitting with a sudden sharpness. He resolved to take her on a date to a teashop when he gets back.) A few old ladies are gathered cheerfully around some of the pai sho tables, swapping stories, and jeering or cheering each other on as they play. An old man with a wispy beard sits in another corner, seemingly asleep. A university student sits at a table with a stack of books beside them. Tenzin closes his eyes and lets the atmosphere simply wash by him. The light click of a pai sho tile being set on the board beside him pulls Tenzin from his musings.

He opens his eyes to find a young woman around his age with her hair pulled back into a severe bun settling into the seat across the board. A nervous looking man hovers behind her, seeming to tense to sit with them.

“Fa, go fetch me my tea.” She says, without looking at the man, who instantly bobs in an abbreviated bow before scurrying over to the counter. It takes until she sets her folded hands on the table that Tenzin recognizes her.

“Your highness.” He greets her with a shallow nod.

Princess Hou-Ting has apparently gone incognito for the evening as well, most of her usual finery left at home. She stills looks like an intimidating noble of the city, but the typical elaborate head wear and jewels have been traded for more traditional hairbands and plain metal. Her fine, sharp features are pretty enough, similar to many of the other nobles of the Earth Kingdom. (He can see where Lin inherits it from, though she’d smack him if he said so.) Tenzin eyes the decorative, sharp metal talons that decorate her two outermost fingers. They click together as she sets her hands down. (He’s heard rumors that she once slapped a servant so hard it broke her fingers and they healed crooked, so she’d simply weaponized the braces. Given how her manservant’s hands shake as he sets her teacup down, Tenzin can’t quite find himself disbelieving the rumor mill.)

“Representative Tenzin.” She responds, lifting her tea to take a sip. “How are you enjoying our fair city?”

She gives him a small, triumphant smile when his eyes automatically dart around the room at her words. He grits his teeth and sits up, bracing himself to tread lightly. She watches him with calculating dark eyes that glitter like the beetles that live along the edges of the desert.

“My stay so far has been perfectly fine.” Tenzin answers. “Perfectly conducive to my work.”

“Mmm, it must take great skill to negotiate on behalf of The Republic.“ She says the name like it sits bitterly in her mouth.

“I’m sure it does. However I am here as a representative of my people, not The Republic this trip.”

“They sent someone of your stature to these negotiations?” Hou-Ting says, slight disbelief in her voice. Tenzin lifts a calm eyebrow.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” He says, pouring himself another cup of tea. “I am the son of a monk and a healer.”

Hou-Ting snorts in a distinctly not-royal way.

“And I the daughter of an exotic pet owner.” She idly stacks some pai sho tiles. “You are the son of the Avatar and the most powerful waterbender in the world. Every relative of yours is a name in history books and you yourself are one of only two airbenders in the world. Trying to walk through the world as anything less than you are is a foolish quest.”

Tenzin watches her silently, waiting. The princess looks back up at him.

“As such, powerful alliances are always… wanted.” She reaches out a hand to rest on his.

Tenzin glances down at the bejeweled talons, the sharp tip resting against the soft skin of his wrist. Then he deftly twists out of her light grip, pulling his own hands back out of reach.

“Of course. But that is not the purpose of this trip.” He says, wrapping his hands around his teacup.

“It’s always more advantageous to kill two birds with one stone.” She says, pulling her hand back with no indication that she’d ever reached out in the first place.

“Indeed, I was just sitting here reviewing plans for the meetings tomorrow and was able to plan a date for my girlfriend when I return home.” Tenzin allows himself some small satisfaction as her smile goes slightly wooden at his words.

“Is that so?” She says, through gritted teeth.

“Mmhm.” Tenzin hides a small smirk behind his teacup as he takes a sip. “I’m sure you’ve heard of her, Lin Beifong?”

He wishes he had a camera to capture the face the princess makes at Lin’s name. Her polite smile goes sour and stiff. Tenzin is grateful, not for the first time, of the weight Lin’s family name carries in the Earth Kingdom. Even the royal family is leery of crossing a Beifong, both in riches and power. There are few families in the world that can go toe-to-toe with Earth Kingdom royalty, and the Beifongs are possibly the only other dynasty with as much hold over the general public of the Earth Kingdom as the royal family.

“I must congratulate you then on such an advantageous match. I was not made aware of it.” She says shortly. “This is a new happenstance, I take it?”

“No, we’ve been together for several years.” Tenzin says, slightly curt. He takes pity on the manservant behind her, who has gone pale. “But we haven’t been in the papers much recently, there are much more exciting things to write about I’m sure.”

“…quite.” Hou-Ting watches him for a moment and when Tenzin offers nothing further, stands abruptly. “I’ll take my leave, then, Representative Tenzin.”

Tenzin gives her a shallow nod.

“Your highness.”

He finally relaxes when she and her manservant vanish out the door. Tenzin sits back and lets out a relived sigh. There’s a scrape against the floor as the stool across from him is once again occupied.

“Quite a gutsy move, rejecting a member of the royal family like that in their own viper pit.”

The old man Tenzin had seen sleeping on the other side of the shop grins at him from where he’s taken the seat. Tenzin shrugs a little.

“It isn’t really rejection if there’s nothing really offered.”

The old man laughs, scratching at his thin beard.

“Slippery words for slippery people.”

“I suppose. Would you care for some tea?” Tenzin offers. The old man waves him off.

“None for me, little monk.” He stares at Tenzin. Tenzin shifts uncomfortably under his sharp gaze.

“Apologies, have we met before?” He stares back at the old man, trying to place him. The man laughs.

“No, but I’ve met your father, more or less. Most just call me Lao Ge.” He says.

“Tenzin, and a great many people have met my father, it’s harder to find someone who hasn’t I think.” Tenzin sighs a little. Lao Ge gives him an enigmatic look.

“The princess isn’t wrong, you know.”

“What?”

“About trying to be in the world as something you’re not.” Lao Ge says. “Of course, it’s always an option to change yourself for the situation at hand, but that is a skill some have, and some don’t. I once knew a woman so stuck to her own ways that she had to wear a costume to be able to be someone else. Even though the whole time that’s who she truly was. But you don’t strike me as the type.”

Tenzin tries to process this as Lao Ge stands and stretches with a yawn.

“I’ll be off now. Farewell, little monk.”

“Goodbye.” Tenzin answers automatically, and before he can say anything else, Lao Ge has vanished from the shop. He blinks.

After a while, Iroh shuffles over with a fresh pot of tea and snacks and takes the seat. Tenzin sets the odd encounters out of mind as he sets up for a pai sho game and catching up properly with Iroh.

//

The Northern Air Temple fades into the clouds behind him and Tenzin can almost hear his sister’s teasing voice.

You can’t dodge or outrun everything in life, Tenz.

Maybe he can, for a while at least.

He sets their path to the east.

Chapter Text

Tenzin takes a meandering path east. Oogie is content to drift along the scattered path, thrilled to be out in the open sky after the long months spent grounded on the island and then the last several months at the Northern temple.

As he travels, Tenzin writes in a journal. He tries to write down everything he remembers learning from his father, all the little nuances that can’t be taught from a book.

Traditionally, he knows the air nomads only recorded the most sacred and essential ideas in writing. The rest was passed down through tellings, living on the breath of one storyteller to another. His dad had heard stories and songs passed down for hundreds and hundreds of years and told the ones he remembered to Tenzin.

Tenzin now sets them to ink, scared that he’ll forget, carrying the secondhand history of a whole people in his head. (He is as bound to tradition as he is unable to practice it- there are no other airbenders for him to tell the stories to nor for him to listen to in turn. He’d let go of that particular bitterness years ago, but everyonce in a while still tastes it on his tongue.)

He finishes writing down the parable of the young monk and the sweets with a smile. It had been a favorite of Bumi’s to dramatically act out when they were young, faking his own death with the imaginary ‘poisonous’ candies as he and Kya tried not to laugh at the silly faces he pulled or their dad trying to be the grumpy old monk. Tenzin waits for the ink to dry before closing the journal and setting it aside. While he waits he writes a letter back to Republic City. (In a week or two he will quietly ignore that lack of response. Lin is busy, it’s fine. Just as it has been fine the last couple times he’s written.) He folds it a sets it aside to send at the next town he passes before settling down for the night.

Tenzin leans back against Oogie’s warm flank, slowly letting his breathing fall into sync with the skybison’s.

He looks up at the waning moon. Opens his mouth to speak. Closes it. Shakes his head and goes to sleep.

They continue on the next day with thankfully clear skies.

Tenzin peers down and sees the distant rings of Ba Sing Se below them. For several long moments he is tempted by the idea of pulling on an old traveling cloak and hat as a disguise and losing a few days in the city. To revel in the anonymity for a while longer. Not that he’d really had that option in his life- even before his tattoos he was still an airbender, and even if he refrained from bending he was still the spitting image of some of the most famous faces on the planet. He looks away from the great rings under them, trying to shake of the lingering feeling of being a ghost in his own skin.

The city fades out of view behind them by the end of the day.

/

The first time Tenzin is truly consciously aware of it, he’s almost eight.

He’s with his parents at market and they’ve run into some boring adult from some town deep in the Fire Nation that is apparently important enough for the man to be able to stop and talk to Master Katara and Avatar Aang. Tenzin is sensible enough to not show how bored he is as the adult make polite small talk over his head. He’s watching a game some kids are playing down the street out of the corner of his eye when he’s startled by a booming laugh from the man from the Fire Nation.

It looks like the man is laughing at something his father has said, but based on the look on his parent’s face, it hadn’t been meant as a joke.

“-just like something those old airbenders believed.” Tenzin catches the man saying.

He sees the polite expressions on his parents faces freeze right below the surface. The man doesn’t seem to notice the drastic shift in mood as he talks. His dad makes some kind of diplomatic statement that ends the conversation as Tenzin notices his mother’s fingers tighten almost imperceptibly on his arm. They walk away into the crowd and the man they’d been talking to vanishes into the morass of people.

It takes him a while of pondering it, but as they walk back down towards the bay Tenzin realizes why his parents had gotten upset.

The man had been talking about the airbenders as if they were all in the past, even with two standing in front of him. As he thinks about it, he realizes that everything he’s ever studied outside of his father’s teachings always acted as if the airbenders were gone.

Just like something those old airbenders believed the man’s voice echoes in his head.

But we’re right here, Tenzin thinks, don’t you see us?

/

The Eastern Temple’s serene arches come into sight by the next night and he and Oogie groan at the same time when they land.

“It’s been a while since we’ve done a long stretch like that, huh boy?” Tenzin murmurers, attempting to stretch out his legs and give Oogie a scratch behind the ears at the same time.

The temple is quiet in the lateness of the night, the few acolytes that live there to tend to the building and grounds asleep. Around them, the battered walls of the temple block out the coolness of the night, moonlight shining through some of the cracks in the stone. Tenzin makes a makeshift camp in the stables with Oogie for the night instead. He falls asleep nearly instantly in exhaustion.

He dreams of falling. Tenzin has never had a fear of heights, but in his dream he can’t stop tumbling through the air. He can’t make the air respond to him, sliding through his hands as if he’d been attempting to bend water. His heart pounds and he tries to catch his breath, but he can’t, he can’t, he can’t…. because he is stone. His eyes stare unblinkingly out over a valley, he can hear the wind whistling past him but cannot feel it on his stoney skin. He can feel the slow creeping of moss growing in the shadowy corners of his limbs, feel the small pieces of himself chipping away and crumbling into the forest below. The world passes him slowly and he can only watch, cannot move, cannot breathe, cannot-

Tenzin wakes up in a cold sweat, jerking up with a gasp. Oogie grumbles worriedly beside him and Tenzin absently pats him reassuringly as he tries to catch his breath. As he stares out at the familiar statues carved into the mountain face above them, the sun slowly creeping over their still face, the dream is already fading from his waking mind.

He goes through his morning ablutions automatically- setting the water to boil for tea and setting aside his shaving implements while he waits for the water to warm. He finishes, running a hand over his head to check for any stray hairs before rubbing the gentle seaweed lotion over the fresh skin. The jar is getting low, he should visit his mother to get more. The faint floral and salty smell of the lotion makes him close his eyes for a moment.

The familiar smell makes him suddenly ache sharply. (He can still hear his mother’s voice gently scolding him and his father when they forgot to use it in the mornings, her own soft hands gently spreading it over his smooth scalp over breakfast, followed by a gentle kiss to the crown of his head. Bumi dramatically gagging into his breakfast and Kya giggling madly when she did the same for their father.)

Tenzin opens his eyes and puts the small jar away, out of sight. Visiting his mother means going south. And he can’t, he can’t bring himself to go. Not yet. The last time he went south was for…. He shoves it away, standing and leaving the makeshift camping area.

He’s going to go find a place to spend the day meditating and reviewing mantras.

To refocus. That’s all he needs to do is focus on something useful, purposeful.

He leaves the bag with the jar of lotion behind. Out of sight, out of mind.

/

Tenzin is thirteen and completely frustrated. There’s a festival in the city tonight and he and Lin had been planning on going for weeks.

“No, Tenzin.” His father says again, sparing only a quick glance up to look him in the eye before continuing to write whatever letter he apparently needed to answer during breakfast. There’s been a lot of those the last few weeks, even interrupting their training together a few afternoons. Tenzin barely resists stamping his foot petulantly.

“That’s so not fair!” He protests instead. “We asked when the posters first went up and you both said yes!”

His mom walks into the kitchen and looks between the two of them, a questioning look on her face when she spots Tenzin’s crossed arms. He sits up and points accusingly at his father.

“Mom! Dad says that Lin and I can’t go to the festival tonight, but you both said it was fine when we asked before, please can we go?” He pleads.

His parents exchange one of those looks that Tenzin hate in these moment, like they have a whole conversation without even talking. When his mother looks back at him she shakes her head.

“Sorry, Tenz. Maybe another year, okay?”

“What? No!” He cries.

Master Katara of the Southern Water Tribe puts her hands on her hips and looks him dead in the eye. Tenzin slumps back in his seat, knowing the argument is over.

He stews the rest of the morning, finding a spot of the roof to sit and brood as he stares at the city across the bay. It’s not fair, the festival only happened every seven years and his parents knew that, and Lin had been excited to show him an authentic Earth Kingdom celebration (even though they both knew they’d get stuck with Su tagging along). Plus he’s been stuck on the island for weeks now, not even going into the city for anything, both his parents putting off taking him with them with vague excuses. He hasn’t even seen Aunt Toph in over two weeks and normally they all have dinner together at least once a week. He tries again in the afternoon, cornering his dad in a corner of the temple.

“Dad, c’mon please.” He wheedles. “This is a chance to experience some culture and educate myself about some of the other nations, right? You could even come with us! I know you like the dance performances.”

Aang sighs deeply.

“Tenzin, you know that any other time I would love to take you both to the festival, but not tonight.”

“But why.” Tenzin says in exasperation.

Aang looks conflicted for a moment, before giving Tenzin an apologetic look.

“I promise to take you and Lin to the next festival that comes up, how about that?”

It’s not an answer. Tenzin knows it’s not an answer and he knows he hasn’t gotten a straight answer about what’s going on for weeks and he is sick of it.

“You keep telling me that airbending is supposed to be about freedom, but I don’t have any! I can’t even leave this stupid island by myself!” Tenzin yells, flinging his hands in the air.

He storms off before his dad can answer, angrily making his way down to the bison stables.

At least Oogie and Appa can’t avoid his questions. (They can’t answer them either, but that’s not important right now.)

It’s easier to think about facing the world without screaming when your face is buried in soft skybison fur. Oogie grunts sympathetically as Tenzin flings himself down to curl into his side. He made a promise, he thinks stubbornly, and he wasn’t going to break it. He and Lin didn’t break promises to each other.

After dinner, Tenzin takes care to make a show of being tired and going to bed. Apparently his parents buy it, not questioning him as he slips away to his room. He waits until he is sure the building is mostly empty- his mother likes to go down to the beach and relax with some waterbending in the evening and his father and the acolytes who live on the island will be busy with evening duties- before donning his Water Tribe clothing and slipping out the window.

His plan works surprisingly well. He makes it down to the beach to his small skiff without being noticed and carefully sets off across the bay, dodging behind larger vessels to avoid being seen from the island. He is as familiar with the waters of the bay as he is the air currents that ride above them, so he crosses the small waves with ease. He makes it to the small local docks for the city and hauls the boat onto the beach behind the large pillars of the main dock before taking off into the city with a grin.

Tenzin follows the familiar route to Lin’s (well, Aunt Toph’s) apartment. No one gives him a second glance, his water tribe clothing granting him some anonymity in the crowds of the city streets. He relishes it for the moment. He can see the lanterns strung up towards the festival crossing over one of the main streets as he walks. Tenzin smiles as he ducks into the alley that cuts across the Lin’s building.

Halfway through the shortcut he’s taken dozens of times, his ankle catches on something and he trips with a yelp. A hand grabs his arm and Tenzin twists to free himself, startled. He smells something sweet and sickly, feels a sharp thumping sensation in a random pattern along his back, and the world abruptly goes dark.

/

Tenzin wakes up just after sunrise with a groan as Oogie shifts and stands. He turns and butts his head against Tenzin in greeting before taking off to explore the valley and presumably find some edible. Tenzin goes through his morning routine sleepily before wandering down to the temple proper.

He expected the quiet of the temple, the whistle of the wind through the turrets and arches, the distant chatter of the animals. He didn’t expect to find someone else sitting at the edge of one of the high balconies. Tenzin creeps forward silently, poised for a confrontation at any moment, only to suddenly drop his stance.

“Kya? What are you doing here?” He asks, baffled.

His sister doesn’t bother turning around as she answers.

“Clearly I’m trying to meditate, but certain airbenders are tromping around interrupting me.”

Tenzin scowls at the back of her head. Kya glances over her shoulder with a smirk. He sighs and walks over to join her.

“I thought that you were in the South Pole with Mom.”

Kya sighs and leans back on her palms, apparently giving up on her previous meditative posture.

“I was, and I’m going back soon, but Mom noticed my itchy feet and told me to get lost for a while because I was making her twitchy.”

Tenzin doesn’t quite manage a laugh, but seriously considers it for a moment. He looks down at where his hands are clasped in his lap.

“How is she doing?” He asks softly.

“As well as can be expected I guess.” Kya says after a moment. “The first couple months were hard. She hadn’t been back for so long since Grandpa died. But it’s been really good having Uncle Sokka around.”

“That’s good.”

“She’d really like it if you’d visit, you know. Even Bumi’s been able to come down.” Kya says pointedly. The unspoken amount of time that has passed hangs behind her words.

You didn’t see the way she looked at me those last days, Tenzin thinks, and swallows down the lump in his throat. He can’t bring himself to look at his sister.

“I know. I will.”

“Hey, Tenz, look at me would you?”

A beat.

He looks over at Kya, the spitting image of their mother, decades younger. She looks faintly worried, a crease between her brows as she meets his eyes.

“How are you doing?” She asks gently, as if he might break into pieces if she asked any firmer. As if he’s fragile.

Tenzin clenches his jaw.

“…fine.”

“Weird, I didn’t know that people who are fine completely avoid their families for months and only communicate with short notes so that we know they aren’t dead.” Kya folds her arms.

“I am on retreat and-“

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Tenzin.” Kya waves him off. “You think that I of all people can’t recognize someone running off around the world to try and avoid everything and everyone?”

“None of you want to see me!” Tenzin says, angrily. He flinches back from his own words.

Kya looks at him in complete bewilderment.

“What the fuck makes you say that?” She demands.

Tenzin struggles to find the words for the guilt he feels in making his family experience grief whenever they look at him. Kya stares at him, before a sudden understanding seems to hit her.

“Oh, Tenzin, you’re such a dumbass.” She sighs.

Kya shuffles closer and pulls him into a hug. He returns it firmly, closing his eyes at the familiar sensation.

“We want to see you because we love you, stupid.” She says quietly. “It’s been hard for all of us.”

None of you could even look at me, he bites the thought back.

There’s a sharp sting at the side of his head as Kya flicks his ear.

“I can practically hear your brain whirring away in there and running you in circles. Steam is going to start pouring out of your ears. We’ve been really worried about you- you couldn’t even be in the same room with us back in the city.” She lets him go and leans back. “We thought that you just needed some space and time, but clearly that isn’t helping much.”

“I was trying to stay out of sight.” He admits quietly. “All of you looked even sadder whenever you looked at me, Bumi couldn’t even meet my eye. So, I thought it would just be easier for everyone.”

“Tenzin, do you even remember what you were like right after Dad’s funeral? You were a mess, it looked like if we spoke to loudly near you, you would have simply collapsed on the spot.” Kya looks worriedly at him. “When we did talk to you it was like you couldn’t even hear or see us.”

Tenzin blinks, at a loss.

He tries to think back to what he remembers of those few weeks before seeing his family off in their different directions. It’s mainly hazy and gray, muddled together in the pounding sense of loss, with a few standout moments. He can’t recall any conversations or interactions beyond a few.

“Yeah, like that.” Kya says. She shifts and stands up with a grunt. “C’mon, I bet you haven’t even had breakfast yet.”

He follows her down to the make-shift space she’s created to cook in in the kitchens. It’s strange to see it so empty. He blinks away thoughts of the warm, welcoming kitchen in the Northern Temple.

(They’d been hopeful to be able to move some acolytes to the Eastern Temple permanently a few summers ago, but between repairs to the temple being more extensive than anticipated, the difficulty of getting to the location, and his father’s illness, it hadn’t happened. It occurs to him that it will be up to him now to finish that plan as well.)

Tenzin takes the cup of tea from Kya and she laughs when he can’t quite stop himself from making a face after taking a sip. It’s one of her strange, bitter, herbal concoctions that was forever changing as she added dried plants to as she traveled. It was never good, in Tenzin’s opinion, but Kya always drank it anyway.

“There’s honey in the jar there.” She gestures with one hand between flipping griddlecakes over with the other. “Don’t use it all in some perfectly fine tea, I want some left for breakfast.”

Tenzin resists sticking his tongue out at her, because that would be childish and uncouth, but he does roll his eyes when she looks away.

They eat together under the slowly warming morning sunshine. Kya catches him up with happenings in the South, drama between her and their mother’s bending and healing students, interesting happenings with people he knows.

“Senna had her baby a like six months ago now, she’s adorable. Mom is sure that between her parents she’s going to be a strong waterbender. And Mom and I are her favorites in the whole village, other than her parents.” Kya tells him smugly. Tenzin groans.

“That’s wonderful, but I can remember you and Mom teaching Senna her first bending forms. She’s really old enough to have kids?”

Kya laughs at him.

“She’s like twenty-six, Tenzin. Married a Northerner a few years ago when he moved down. You’re just getting old, old man.” She reaches out and tweaks his short beard before he can bat her hand away.

“Stop that. It’s good that things are growing down South.”

“I wouldn’t if you didn’t have a beard like an ox-goat. And yeah, it’s different even from what I remember when we were little, in a good way. Mom’s taken up a bunch of students and they’re all thrilled to pieces about it.”

“What about you?” Tenzin asks, setting their makeshift dishes aside. Kya makes a face.

“I do some healing classes here and there and get roped into helping with form training sometimes. Mostly I stick around the healing houses. I do like helping with the beginner classes though.” She sighs. “It’s been… weird. What have you been doing on your oh so important retreat?”

Tenzin tells her about his travels, his months at the Northern Temple, some of the new things he’s found in his studies, people he’s met, and catches her up with what he knows about their common friends back in Republic City. Kya leans her chin on her palm and looks at him with uncanny sharpness.

“So, who’s Pema?”

“What?” Tenzin startles slightly.

“Pema. Acolyte Pema at the Northern Air Temple. You’ve mentioned her like five times so far. Is she cute?”

Tenzin sputters.

“I- it’s not- I don’t- I don’t think about her like that, Kya! We’re friends. And I’m with Lin.”

Kya gives him a look that he can’t interpret. Then she shrugs, taking a last sip of her tea before setting her cup down. She lays back with her fingers laced behind her head, closing her eyes as she tips her head back to enjoy the sunshine.

“If you say so.”

“I do say so.”

“I am going to steal your girlfriend.”

“That wasn’t funny when we were teenagers and it’s not funny now.” Tenzin leans back on his hands. Kya cackles.

“No, it’s still funny actually.”

Tenzin doesn’t bother responding, instead flicking a hand to send a small whirl of air to fling her hair over her face. Kya sputters, spitting out strands of hair before sitting up and uncorking her water pouch with a gleam in her eye.

“Oh it’s on, little bro.”

/

Tenzin is still thirteen when he wakes up with a pounding head. He groans and goes to rub his eyes. He can’t.

Abruptly he remembers the alley, tripping, the festival and…. his hands are tied.

Tenzin tries not to panic, taking stock of where he is. His hands are tied with what feels like rope behind his back and when he tugs he can feel that they’re tied to his ankles, which are bound the same way. He can feel fabric around his eyes, nose, and mouth. Some of the fabric is in his mouth, thankfully clean linin just barely not choking him, but he can’t take a deep breath. He’s lying on some kind of wooden platform or floor, the barely-sanded lumber slightly rough under his face. By what  little he can smell, it seems like he’s underground somewhere, the familiar damp earthy smell of stone and chill of being away from the reach of the sun slowly sinking into him. His body is sore as if he’s been pummeled with small stones. There’s a conversation in low voices somewhere in the room just out of his hearing. He concentrates of breathing slowing, not panicking, not panicking, not panicking-

“Hey, I think the kid’s awake.” A voice speaks from somewhere beyond his feet.

The faint sound of several bodies shifting reaches his ears. He counts carefully, listening for the shifting of gravel under feet. He thinks there’s at least three of them.

One set of footsteps walks towards him and Tenzin forces himself not to flinch away.

“Now kid, you’ll be just fine as long as you don’t try any funny business, yeah? We’ll just chi-block you again or worse, and I’m sure you’d like to stay in one piece, right?” The woman says smoothly. Tenzin nods hesitantly. “Very good.” She says, reaching out and patting his cheek with a cold hand.

Tenzin jerks away in surprise and hears her snort derisively before standing and moving away.

His heart pounds- he has no idea who these people are or what they want. Maybe they’re with the Triads? He knows that his parents, aunt, and uncle had been caught up in case with them a while ago, but he didn’t remember anything recent. He focuses on breathing. He is the son of Avatar Aang and Master Katara. By the time they were his age they’d already ended a war, so he refuses to be bested by some random criminals.

On the far side of wherever they are, the rumble of earthbending signals a people coming and going a few times. Tenzin isn’t sure how much time passes as he lays there. The position he’s in doesn’t let him settle into any of the familiar mantras easily. His arms are slowly going numb and the shoulder he’s lying on aches.

Instead he focuses on listing facts: he is underground, which is good, because that means that his dad and Aunt Toph and all her metalbenders can find him. It’s at least the next day, so surely someone has noticed he’s missing by now and are looking for him. They will be looking for him, and he is underground, which is good, because….

Time drifts by him, broken only by the occasional sounds of the earthbent entrance and whispered conversation between his kidnappers that seems to get more agitated every time they speak. Tenzin is distantly aware that he’s hungry and thirsty and needs to use the restroom, but he can’t exactly ask, so he puts it to the back of his mind. They seem content to ignore him and Tenzin gives them no reason to pay him any attention.

Slowly, he uses the rough wood and his own smooth head to his advantage. Nodding carefully whenever he’s sure his captors aren’t nearby, he manage to pull the blindfold up from his eyes to sit awkwardly on his forehead. It’s enough. He squints in the dim room. Tenzin can see the small group on the far side of a large, earthbent room, clearly sitting and waiting for something. He can’t make out their faces, the room only lit with a few of the dim green crystals his mother hates and a small flame idly flickering in and out of existence in the palm of a firebender in the group. There are three, like he’d thought.

The one he guesses is the earthbender stands up suddenly, like he’s about to speak.

And then it feels like the world explodes.

Tenzin bites back a scream.

Or maybe he does scream but it’s lost as the walls on either side of the crude cavern burst apart, dirt and rubble flying everywhere. There are a few bursts of fire through the dust, but they are swept aside by a suddenly blast of wind that fills the room and Tenzin with relief. There’s the sound of a brief fight on the far side of the room. The dust and rubble is abruptly bent to the ground and Tenzin can see the room.

Nearest to him, his Aunt Toph and a few of her metalbenders stand at the ready, a few other people that must have been involved trapped in strips of metal behind them. On the far side of the room, the three that had stayed with Tenzin are either encased in rock or frozen in a thick layer of ice to the wall. Some part of Tenzin suddenly realizes why there are people who are terrified of his parents as he sees them from across the room. His mother is yelling something furiously in the face of the terrified firebender she’d frozen to the wall, as his father glances back the way they’d come, at someone Tenzin can’t see around the corner to the tunnel, his shoulders tense. For a brief moment, he’s not sure if he wants to see the look on his father’s face. Not sure if he wants either of them to turn around.

He must make some kind of sound, because both of their heads suddenly snap around to zero in on him.

“Tenzin!” Aang is faster to cross the room than even the metalbenders only a few strides away from him.

He pulls the blindfold and gag off of Tenzin’s head with gentle hands. He pulls Tenzin to sit up, pausing when he whimpers in pain. Aang glances over his shoulder at the ropes.

“I’m gonna let your mom take a look before I undo those, okay? Oh, spirits, buddy you scared us.” His dad pulls him into a careful hug and Tenzin plants his face in his shoulder before bursting into tears. He can’t tell if it’s him or his dad who’s shaking more.

Katara kneels down next to them, her soft hand cupping the back of his head before moving to the ropes behind him.

“Spirits above and below.” She says, in a manner that implies wanting to use much stronger language. Tenzin manages to catch his breath a little, lifting his head.

“’m okay,” he manages to croak. “just sore. Chi-blocked me. Thirsty too.”

His father instantly bends some water from a travel pouch for him to drink as his mother slices through the ropes around his wrists and ankles. Tenzin sighs with relief as the ropes fall free, wincing as the pins and needles start making their way across his limbs. His parents help him stand, his mother pulling him into a crushing hug for a moment. Aunt Toph approaches when it feels like he can stand okay on his own, each of his parents still having a hand on his shoulders.

“You okay, Tenzin?” she asks, tapping a foot to get a look at him. He nods shakily.

“Yeah.” He takes a deep breath and sighs with relief when the air answers to the light pull he gives it.

He answers the questions his aunt has about the people who took him with what little information he has- it was dark, he didn’t really see their faces, no he didn’t know them, no he didn’t over-hear anything they were talking about. Tenzin explains what happened, avoiding looking at his parents as he tells how he slipped away from the island and into the city, before they are free to go.

“Careful as you go,” Aunt Toph calls after them. “the ground is unstable in this area because of all the tunneling.”

“Right now we’re just happy that you’re okay,” His mother says, quietly, putting her arm around his shoulders and pulling him close as they walk through the tunnel leading out of the cavern and upwards. “but we will be discussing you sneaking away later.”

Tenzin nods in resignation. His father walks a couple of steps ahead of them, bending a stable path as they go, and Tenzin steps carefully into his footsteps to stay on more solid ground. Tenzin stares tiredly at the ground as they walk. He is the son of Avatar Aang and Master Katara and he resolves that he will never be helpless or caught off guard again.

Tenzin lifts his eyes to the clear sky as they emerge from the tunnel, the last tension finally dropping from his shoulders at the sight of the blue sky.

/

Tenzin drops his gaze from the clear blue sky above them, then abruptly sputters as he catches a spray of water directly into his face.

They mock spar around the courtyard for a while, sending water and air back and forth until a faint mist hangs in the air and they both run out of steam. Tenzin sits down heavily next to Kya on the broad steps leading down to the next level of the temple grounds as they catch their breath.

“I don’t know if I can meet the next Avatar, I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready.” Tenzin admits quietly. Kya stretches out her legs and leans back on her palms.

“It’s not like anyone will force you to meet them.” She points out. “And besides, it’ll be years before we even know who the kid is. No need to borrow any stress.”

“I’ll have to meet them eventually,” Tenzin sighs. “I’m just worried that I won’t be a good mentor or that I’ll …resent them or something.”

Kya shoves at him until he scoots back up a few stairs and she can settle down in front of him, tugging her hair wrap off and giving him a purposeful glance over her shoulder. Tenzin rolls his eyes, but dutifully starts untangling and braiding her hair. The thick brown strands are now liberally shot through with grey and silver, creating an interesting pattern in the plaits.

“You’ve been teaching the acolytes for years now.” Kya points out. “And you’ve never been able to hold onto a grudge of any kind, even when you tried to. I’d bet you’re more likely to adopt the kid than hate them.”

Tenzin snorts. Then he sighs.

“It’s just, strange to think about I guess. Knowing that he’s still out there in some way.”

“He’s not, not like that.” Kya say firmly. “Whoever the new Avatar is, they’re their own person. Don’t go looking for anything that’s not there and putting pressure on the poor kid to find something they don’t have or on yourself to find something that’s not there. That’s not your job.”

“Isn’t it?” Tenzin says, reaching the end of on braid and starting another. “Being the airbending teacher and spiritual guide seems like that would be my job.”

Kya snorts.

“Maybe the new avatar will find that the teachings of the earth sages resonate more than old airbending gurus.” She teases. Tenzin frowns and tugs her braid in retaliation. Kya reaches back and flicks him in the head without looking. “But really, you won’t know what the Avatar needs until you meet them, so there’s no point in stressing yourself out about it now.”

Tenzin finishes the last braid in silence and ties it off, patting her shoulders to signal his completion. Kya bends a handful of water into an icy mirror for inspection, nodding in approval before putting it away and scooting up to sit next to him. She leans into his side, tipping her head onto his shoulder.

“It’s just that it’s, it’s…. heavy.” Tenzin says eventually. He can feel Kya smile slightly in understanding against his shoulder.

“It’s just air.” She says calmly.

They sit together for a long time, taking in the view from where they sit. Tenzin closes his eyes and focuses on both of their breaths. We are still breathing, he tells himself.

That evening under the waning light of the moon they go through forms together, switching off between airbending and waterbending stances and some of their own combinations that they’d made up as kids. The actual practice devolves into them creating small clouds and racing them around the edges of the practice space. When the clouds dissipate back to where they came from, they sit and mediate together.

Kya tells him about what she’s learned from the sages in the Northern Tribe during her time there. Tenzin listens to her stories about the people and the moon and the ocean and the differences between the stories in the different poles and lets her familiar voice wash over him. Eventually, Kya yawns and tells him goodnight.

Tenzin stays out under the stars for a while longer.

He looks up at the sliver of moon left in the sky and wonders, not for the first time, if it’s as close as he’ll ever get to the spirits.

They part ways after a week, Kya back to the South and Tenzin heading back to check in at Republic City. He stops to see if there’s anything he needs to take care of at Air Temple Island. He takes what he needs to and carefully focuses on work instead of how Lin doesn’t answer his call when he reaches out his first week back.

They manage to share lunch a few times between Lin’s own duties to the metalbending academy and his meetings with the council and consultations at the temple. A few nights, too exhausted to talk, they simply spent sitting quietly together, watching the lights of the city.

None of it feels quite right, like he needs to get back into the habit and find the new rhythm of his life here. But he isn’t needed as much as he thought, not yet.

He goes back North, hoping the cold air will help clear his head.

/

Tenzin leans on the front edge of the saddle, staring at the back of his father’s head.

“Hey, dad?”

The older airbender makes a sound of acknowledgement and turn slightly to show his attention.

“How did you know that you were in love with mom?”

Aang turns more fully to look at him out of the corner of his eye.

“Anything in particular that brought this on?” He asks.

Tenzin sighs and rests his chin over his arms on the saddle.

“Well, you met mom when you were my age, and I don’t even want to date anyone yet.” Tenzin wrinkles his nose at the thought.

His father chuckles and gives a gentle tug to Appa’s reins to keep them on course.

“That’s perfectly fine, Tenzin. You’re only twelve, you’ve got plenty of time ahead of you to worry about stuff like that. All you have to do is trust your heart and you’ll know when you find someone.”

Tenzin sighs and flops back to lay in the saddle. He stares up at the clouds passing overhead, occasionally seeing Oogie appear as he trails along beside Appa.

He asks his mom that night when she checks on him before going to bed.

“Mom, how did you know you wanted to marry Dad?”

His mother’s eyebrows jump upwards and she takes a seat on his bed.

“What’s brought this on?”

Tenzin shrugs and fiddles with his blanket. His mother hums thoughtfully for a moment.

“Well, I didn’t, not for a long while.” Katara laughs as Tenzin’s head snaps up in surprise. “We both had a lot of jobs that kept us very busy for a long time. There’s a difference between loving someone and wanting to marry them.”

“There is?”

“Yes, you can love someone very, very much, like family or friends. Or you can be in love with someone and not want to marry them.”

“Like Aunt Suki and Uncle Sokka.” Tenzin says. Katara nods.

“And sometimes you love someone very much and you want to marry them.”

“Like you and dad.” Katara smiles and nods again. Tenzin frowns a little. “Does that mean you can not love someone and still marry them?”

“Yes, sometimes, for lots of different reasons.” Katara smooths the blanket down and tucks him in. “What’s got you so curious about this? Is there someone you’re thinking about marrying?”

Tenzin goes pink and his mother bites back a laugh.

“No, I was just curious.”

“I married your dad because I love him very much, he loves me, and we are happier together than we are apart.” She tells him simply. “If you get married, you’ll want it to be someone who makes you happier just by being in the same room. That’s how you know.”

“Oh. Okay. Goodnight, mom.”

“Goodnight, baby.”

Katara puts out the small lamp on her way out of his room. The dim light of the moon shines into Tenzin’s room and he stares up at the small sliver he can see.

He knows the story of Yue, so he knows that sometimes duty is more important than love. But he hopes not.

/

He’s interrupted from his studies by the sound of a plate and cup being set on the desk beside him. Tenzin looks up blinking in the suddenly dim light. He hadn’t realized how much time had passed since he’d sat down in the library. Pema is standing next to him, a soft smile on her face.

“I didn’t see you in any of the dining areas today, so I thought you might be hungry.” She explains, handing him a water flask, and setting a small pot of tea on the table beside them.

“Oh, thank you, Pema.” Tenzin gives her a slightly sheepish look. “Honestly I just got so immersed in the readings I completely lost track of time.”

Pema laughs.

“I’ve been known to do that every so often as well. I’ll let you get back to it.” She turns to go.

“You can stay, if you would like.” Tenzin says. Pema turns back around, surprised. “I mean, if you have duties to attend to, please don’t feel any obligation or-“ He hurries to add.

“No, no, I don’t have anything that needs to be done right now.” Pema says, sitting down at the bench beside the table next to his reading desk. She picks up the teapot she’d brought and pulls an extra cup from her robes. She gives him a sheepish look when he raises his eyebrows. “I… kind of hoped to share some tea and conversation with you.”

Tenzin smiles at her, holding out his cup for some tea as she pours.

“That isn’t something I hear often, I must admit. People tend to find me… stuffy.” He says awkwardly, cooling down the tea with a careful wave of his hand. Pema looks at the tiny whirlwind over his cup with wide eyes for a moment, before looking up with an affronted expression.

“Who said that?”

“My sister, mostly.” He says wryly. Pema snorts into her tea.

Tenzin turns to face her, pulling his feet up to cross his legs on the bench. Pema glances at the desk.

“That’s a lot of lists.”

“I have.. a lot of duties to take care of. This was my attempt to sort what needs to be done.” Tenzin gestures to the various scrolls and half-completed pages of writing. Pema peers at them curiously.

“Well, I’m always happy to help, you know I know this library better than anyone else here.” She smiles at him and Tenzin finds himself smiling back.

“I’m sure that I’ll take you up on that.” He tells her. “There’s a lot to work through.”

They both look around at the aisles of information around them. Tenzin bites back a sigh. Pema gives him a careful look.

“Do you have something that you’d like to accomplish that isn’t part of all that? Maybe if you gave yourself some kind of goal just for yourself it would be easier.” Pema suggests.

Tenzin looks around the library, thinking. The soft yellow light and the ends of scrolls and books is soothing. It sparks a memory from deep in his mind. He thinks about the journal tucked into his travel bag.

“I would like to collect all of my father’s writings. He filled so many journals and scrolls, and I have no idea how organized they are. Eventually I want to continue helping with the preservation and use of airbender materials, but that would be a start at least. He always told the best stories. And,” Tenzin looks down at his hands. “it would be nice to be able to share what he documented about his life. As well as the rest of my family. If I am ever fortunate enough to have children of my own, that’s something I’d like to be able to pass along to them.”

Pema smiles at him.

“That sounds like a great idea. I always wanted a big family myself, that would be something amazing to pass down to your kids.”

It feels like a small part of the weight he’s been carrying lifts at her assurance. He smiles back at her.

True to her word, Pema helps him with the cataloguing and research for what needs to be done moving forward, where he dreams of taking what remains of the air nation in the future. Tenzin shows he how to walk through the basic airbending forms and stances, carefully stepping around and around and around. He finds himself helping the acolytes in the kitchens, trading stories with Pema and getting to know the other acolytes. He loves hearing about her life. Acolyte Li Wei is one of her close friends and Pema teases that they could be distant cousins with their close heights. Tenzin shows them the adapted Southern Water Tribe dishes that his mother had come up with and Pema shares her signature sweet bean buns. She daubs a smiling face on one.

“That’s me.” She declares, decorating another with a beard and arrow. “That’s you.” She tells Tenzin. She daubs a face with a squiggly mouth and thick eyebrows and shows it to Li Wei. “This one’s you.”

Li Wei protests, throwing flour at Pema in retaliation. Pema laughs and blows some back into Li Wei’s long hair. Tenzin watches, biting back a laugh.

(It doesn’t even occur to him how long it’s been since he’s had to do so.)

/

Weeks later, there’s a soft knock at the door.

“Come in.” Tenzin calls out without looking away from the scroll he’s transcribing. He squints at the faded ink.

The door opens and shuts and when he glances over Pema is standing with a small pot of tea. He smiles at her.

“Good afternoon, Pema.”

“I thought that you might have gotten caught up in this and might be in need of some refreshment.” She holds up the small teapot and cup in her hands. Tenzin sits up and realizes that she’s exactly right.

“Thank you, this is exactly what I was needing.” He stands up and takes the pot and cup from her, setting it on the small table beside his travel desk.

Pema still stands in the same spot, twisting a fold in her robes nervously. Tenzin raises his eyebrows.

“Was there something else you needed to tell me?” He asks.

She gives him an almost startled look. It looks like she’s going to speak several times before she takes a deep, steadying breath.

“I’ve decided to be honest about my emotions, because supposedly it’s always best to be straightforward with these kinds of things.” Pema says finally, straightening up. She seems to steel herself. “Tenzin, I’ve had a lot of time to think these couple of months you’ve been back and it’s only fair for you to know that I’m in love with you.”

Tenzin stares at her, stunned.

“I love how passionate you are about your culture and the conversations that we have, and I’ve never been so at peace during meditation than with you.” She continues hurriedly. “It’s so easy to be with you and I’ve never felt this way so strongly about someone else before. So, I love you.”

Pema looks at him anticipation and slight terror warring on her face. Tenzin clears his throat awkwardly.

“I… am flattered, Pema, but I am seeing someone and have been for quite some time now, so-“

Pema stares at him stubbornly, folding her arms.

“Whoever she is, she doesn’t make you happy, Tenzin.”

Tenzin sputters.

“Lin and I have known each other our whole lives and have been happily-“

“Then why don’t you ever mention her?” Pema interrupts sharply. “If she’s so important to you and you are both so in love, why haven’t I even heard you say her name until today?”

Tenzin gropes for an answer and can’t find one.

“If she loves you so much, where is she? Has she even been to the temples?” Pema demands, stepping forward.

“Lin is very busy with Republic city and working to take over since her mother decided to leave and…”

“She’s not here.” Pema says firmly. “She’s not here, but I am, and I love you. I understand everything about what your duties entail with the future air nation. I cannot honestly say that I have the patience to wait around to figure out for yourself just how miserable you are in your relationship, so I’m saving us time by being up front.”

She reaches out and grabs his hands. Tenzin feels like his fingers are numb under her gentle hold.

“I know you have a lot to think about right now, but will there ever really be a good time? I can wait for an answer, you can take your time. But I just wanted you know that you have the choice.”

She lifts herself up on her tiptoes and presses a kiss to his cheek. Tenzin stares as Pema walks away, mind running a million miles an hour.

/

He goes West this time, trying to leave thoughts of kindly green eyes and soft smiles behind.

Chapter Text

Pema first meets Air Acolytes when she is ten years old. They pass through her tiny town to trade and meet with people.

Their vibrant robes are exotic and fascinating. She trails them for an afternoon, watching their bright smiles and lightness they bring to the village for the day.

She turns around to go home after watching them head for the edge of town, trying not to be disappointed. She runs face-first into a woman in yellow and red.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Pema gasps. The old woman just laughs. Then she kneels down in front of her.

“You’ve been following us all day.”

Pema blushes, but meets the woman’s eyes with a nod. Her kind brown eyes crinkle in amusement.

“My name is Yee-li.” She pulls a mango and a small knife from her robe and settles down to sit in the shade under the wall that surrounds the town. “You must be hungry if you spent the day trailing around after us.”

Pema slowly sits down with her and watches with wide eyes as she carefully carves up the fruit, handing Pema half. They eat the fruit together, the older woman’s eyes drifting shut in contentment. Pema finds the quiet peaceful, unlike at home.

Eventually, the slices of mango are gone, but the peaceful moment lingers. Pema lets out a happy sigh. Yee-li opens her eyes and smiles gently at her.

“We follow the traditions of the Air Nomads to keep them alive, so we travel with little of our own. Memories- like sharing a pleasant meal with a new friend- are something we carry with us. I will treasure this one.”

She gives Pema a tiny bow and Pema returns it.

“Thank you.” Pema says as they stand and dust themselves off. “This was nice.”

“If you’re ever interested in learning, the temples always have room for more.” Yee-li tells her. She reaches into her robes and pulls out a small wooden charm. “Here, a blessing for the winds to guide you on your path. Live well, young one.”

Pema clutches the charm in one hand and waves after her with the other as she vanishes into the forest after the other acolytes. She stands there for a long time before walking back home.

/

Years later, she is sixteen.

She looks around her small, empty town and thinks about a conversation, the taste of mango, and sense of peace she hasn’t known since she was ten. Traces the smooth wooden charm she’s kept on her since she was ten. She remembers an uncle visiting from the north when she was younger, laughing at the thrill of the wind in her hair as he sped along with his wheels.

Well, she thinks as she shoulders her small travel pack, I already have nothing here. Maybe there I can have nothing and peace.

/

Even though her town is fairly far north, it still takes her more than a month to make it to the mountains that house the Northern Air Temple. The trek through the mountains is hard, even though the path is fairly clear. After a week of winding through the peaks and valleys of the jagged mountain range, the temple comes into view. Pema gasps as she comes to an overlook high on the side of the mountain. The temple stands tall and almost otherworldly across the wide valley, the blue roof tiles spearing through the drifting fog. It looks like there are large birds circling the spires for a moment before she realizes that they must be the air walkers she’s heard the stories about. Pema sits and eats her afternoon meal, simply staring in wonder at the sight before packing up to continue on her way. If she pushes herself, she thinks she could make it to the temple the day after next, depending on how winding the paths through the valley are.

She’s about to continue on when she’s startled by a person dropping out of the sky next to her.

Pema’s first instinct is to swing her bag at the sudden intruder.

It makes satisfying contact with their face and knocks them down. Pema scrambles a few steps away, pulling out the knife she’d brought along for protection.

To her surprise, the person on the ground bursts into laughter before sitting up. Pema solidifies her stance as the stranger bends down to pick up a staff that had fallen to the ground.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” The stranger stands up facing her, hands held up in a peaceful gesture. “I’m Li Wei, I live in the temple and spotted you as I was gliding by. Wasn’t expecting to get walloped in the face though- you have a good arm.”

Li Wei looks to be about her age and has a kind smile. Pema can’t spot any weapons aside from the very obvious staff, so she relaxes a little, lowering her knife.

“I’m Pema, I’m actually travelling to the temple right now.” She introduces herself. Li Wei lights up.

“Are you coming to be an acolyte?” Pema nods and Li Wei whoops in excitement. “That’s so exciting! But if you do take vows you’ll have to give up things like hitting people in the face with bags and pulling knives on them.” They add with a wink.

Pema laughs and puts the knife away before picking up her bag. Li Wei taps the staff on the ground and large sets of wings pop out of it. Pema stares. Li Wei holds out a hand with a grin.

“C’mon, I’ll give you a lift over, save you some walking.”

Pema points at the contraption in Li Wei’s hands.

“A lift on that, like-“ she points to where a few other people gliding through the air are visible.

“Yup.” Li Wei says cheerfully. “It’s perfectly safe, I promise.”

Pema looks between the glider and the long distance to the temple. She takes a breath. She’s already taking a leap of faith with her life, what’s one more.

“Okay.” She says.

Li Wei shows her how to hold tight to their back and how they’ll both fit on the glider before they go. They hike Pema up on their back and set up for a running take-off.

“Ready?” Li Wei asks. Pema nods before she can lose her nerve.

Li Wei sprints towards the edge of the cliff and leaps off and Pema bites back a scream because they are falling, they are falling, they are-

The wind catches in the wings of the glider with a sudden snap and they are flying.

Pema thinks that she left her stomach somewhere behind them and Li Wei laughs beneath her. They continue to not fall from the sky and Pema opens her eyes. She gasps.

They are being carried up over the trees below like a great green ocean (or at least, what she imagines the ocean to look like). The wind whips past her face and her heart races at the feeling. It’s like nothing she’s ever experienced before. In far less time than she ever through possible, the temple comes up in front of them. The details come into focus as they approach- the patterns of the brickwork, the colors of the tiles and stones, tiny glimpses through the windows.

“Hang on!” Li Wei calls as they get closer and closer.

They approach the highest balcony hanging out over the valley and start to drop. Lie Wei lands easily, running for a few steps until coming to a stop. Pema lets go and drops to the ground with shaky legs. She looks back over the valley to where they’d started. It seems impossible that they’d crossed so far so quickly.

“Pretty great, huh?” Li Wei says.

“Absolutely amazing.” Pema breathes.

“Come on, let’s get you introduced and settled in.” Lie Wei turns to head inside the temple.

Pema takes one more look over the valley, touches the wooden pendant around her neck, and follows.

/

The first night is strange- the bed under her is hard and unfamiliar, and the wind whistles oddly past the window outside. Pema lays awake and stares up at the ceiling. The stone of the temple is nothing like the wooden walls and woven roofs she’s grown up under. The wind outside whistles past again and Pema resigns herself to a sleepless night. She gets out of bed and slips out of the room.

As she pads quietly down the halls, she stares at how everything washes out in the moonlight. The dim silvery light is the same as it was back home, and she relaxes a little with the sight of it. Pema can’t find any regrets about coming to the temple, but it is strange being somewhere where she knows almost no one. Back home, everyone knew everyone else in town.

She finds her way down to the kitchens and pokes around the cabinets and pantry until she finds the ingredients she needs. She sets the kettle to boil and puts the cinnamon and honey in the cup she’d found. (The abundance in the kitchen’s pantry is astounding- there are ingredients from all the different nations, some she’s never even heard of.)

“Couldn’t sleep?”

Pema jumps and turns around sheepishly.

“Hey, Uncle Teo.”

He smiles at her as he rolls across the kitchen. He’s in his high-backed wheelchair, which means he’d been settled in working in his office until late instead of tinkering in the workshop.

Teo isn’t her uncle by blood, but he grew up here with her parents for a while when they were children. Her parents left with their families when the war ended, but Teo had stayed. He’d come and visit their village at least once a year for as long as she can remember, always bringing with him some amazing toy he’d invented to show her and the other kids. She hasn’t seen him since the sickness that had passed through the kingdom a couple of years earlier.

Teo parks himself next to her stool and she grabs another cup to make for him too. She sits back down on the stool and sighs.

“The wind kept me awake.” She admits. Teo smiles and leans back in his chair.

“When I first came here with my dad it kept me up at night too. I was afraid that there were restless spirits unhappy with us being in the temple. Not unreasonable to think around here, and when I was a little older I actually did meet a spirit who was rather unhappy with us being here at first, but we sorted things out.” He chuckles at some inside joke he’s made that Pema doesn’t understand. “But it gets easier. You find the rhythm in the breezes, learn the way it sounds when it’s blowing from different directions with different weather. It becomes part of you, in a sense.”

The kettle boils and Pema pours it into their cups.

“Why didn’t you ever join the acolytes, Uncle Teo?” She asks, giving the cups a stir and adding milk before handing Teo his cup and sitting back down with hers.

Teo takes a sip and savors it for a moment before answering.

“I considered it for a while. Aang even told me I had the true spirit of an airbender once. But I just couldn’t commit myself to the whole lifestyle and have what I wanted in life.” He looks wistfully into his drink for a moment.

“Like what?”

“Oh, this and that. Little things that build up, you know? I thought for a time that maybe I’d settle down with a nice family life eventually, leave the temple. Hasn’t happened yet though.” He adds wryly.

“How did you know that taking vows really wasn’t for you?” Pema curls her hands around her own cup and swirls it gently. Teo looks up at her.

“I don’t really know.” He admits. “I just… hit a point and I knew. Why? Having second thoughts on your first night?”

“No,” she whispers thickly. “no, I… I’ve never felt so certain about anything in my life before.”

Teo smiles softly at her.

“That’s good, Pema.” He sets his cup in a pop-up holder and gestures for her to follow. “C’mon, there’s something I want to show you.”

She follows him out to one of the broad balconies overlooking the mountains around them. Teo points upwards and Pema gasps quietly as she looks up.

The air is clear and cool in the mountains at night, and the stars are so thick in the sky that it feels like she could reach up and touch them.

“It never gets old.” Teo says with satisfaction. He tips his head back to rest on his backrest. “It always reminds me that there are things worth reaching for even if you know you’ll never reach them. It’s worth it just to be able to be around such awe-inspiring things.”

Pema nods slowly, the stars shining in her eyes.

They sit out in the cool air until their warm drinks run out.

Pema can still see the stars from the window in her room after they part ways for the night.

It is always worth it to strive, she thinks sleepily

/

Pema gets slotted into the rhythm of the temple easier than she thought. She finds a sense of purpose and calm in the lessons and chores and meditations.

She finds the library during her first week, stumbling on it after taking a wrong turn. The soft yellow light that filters down from the high windows is warm and inviting. Pema wanders in-between the rows of angular shelves of scrolls and books admiringly. Her parents had a few books and the local schoolhouse in her hometown had a shelf of educational material, but nothing like this. She is so taken in with looking around the space that she runs into another acolyte, sending an armful of scrolls to the floor.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Pema gasps, kneeling down to help recover the materials. The other acolyte laughs and waves her awkwardness away.

“It’s fine, you must be the new novice, Pema, right?” The older woman asks kindly. Pema nods, handing her back the scrolls. “My Li Wei has told me all about you. My name is Jai, I take care of the records and writings here.”

Now that she mentions it, Pema can see the resemblance to her new friend; Jai has the same beautiful dark skin, kind eyes, and wide smile as Li Wei.

“It’s nice to meet you, Li Wei has mentioned you a few times. I got distracted looking at everything in here, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a library so big before in my life!” Pema admits, following behind the older acolyte as she continues her interrupted task of putting the scrolls away in their angled cubbies. Jai smiles at her.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? The collection here has writings from all of the temples and what we’ve been able to recover from the other nations. The big project right now is making sure that there are copies of everything to be shared at every location.” Jai says happily, tucking another scroll away. Pema notes that the color coded end of the scroll doesn’t match the rest of the one in the shelf. “Where did you come to us from, Pema?”

Pema tells her the name of her hometown and, to her surprise, Jai laughs.

“I grew up not too far from your town, actually. I left and joined the acolytes after I began working with Aang and some other scholars. Li Wei grew up here in the temple.”

“Wow.” Pema says. She picks up a book that had fallen over on a shelf and sets it upright.

“Feel free to come ask me any questions you have.” Jai tells her.

Pema studies the work done to preserve the history and teachings of the Air Nomads. The library in the Northern Temple is the vastest collection she’s seen, and she devours book after book after scroll. The classes from the older acolytes during her initiation time only adds fuel to her curiosity.

Li Wei helps her learn, Pema following the motion of their brown fingers as they trace along the lines of traditional Air Nomad script.

“My mom, Jai, she’s friends with Avatar Aang.” Li Wei tells her with a smile when Pema asks how they learned. “She’s always told me that my great-great-grandfather was an airbender from the Southern Temple. She and Avatar Aang actually translated his old journals together. I’ve lived at the temple all my life, so learning it and helping continue that knowledge kind of became my calling here.”

“That’s amazing.” Pema breathes. “Helping preserve the legacy of the Air Nation, wow.”

“You’re helping too, just by being here.” Li Wei says. “And I’m sure if there’s anything specific you feel called to do, you’ll figure it out.”

/

Pema doesn’t expect to meet the Avatar in her lifetime, not really, let alone less than a year into living in the temple, and certainly didn’t expect to run into the sacred protector of balance in the world….  draped across her uncle’s lap in his office.

“Um.” Pema says, holding the tray with her uncle’s lunch on it with a suddenly tight grip so she doesn’t drop it.

Teo looks up and smiles.

“Hi Pema, come on in.” When Pema doesn’t move from the doorway, her uncle looks at the most powerful bender in the world, ender of the Hundred Year War, and flicks him on the head.

The Avatar, the last airbending master, head of the temples and acolytes, looks up from the document he’d been reading with an annoyed look. Teo gestures towards Pema.

“Aang, this is my niece Pema, she’s been here for a couple of months now and she’ll be taking her full vows to join the acolytes in a couple of years when she’s done training. And she’s been so nice to bring us lunch.”

The Avatar looks at her and smiles warmly. He has kind eyes, Pema thinks distantly.

“Hello, Novice Pema! Thank you for bringing that up for us. Are you settling in well here at the temple?”

Pema suddenly remembers how her legs work and steps forward to set the tray down on her uncle’s desk.

“Um, yes, thank you, Avatar Aang. It’s been really nice here.”

The Avatar wrinkles his nose and waves a hand.

“Please, here I’m just Aang, or Gelong Aang if you really feel the need to be formal.” He says kindly.

“She should call you heavy, Aang. I’m pretty sure if I could feel my legs they’d be numb by now.” Teo complains lightly, reaching around his friend for one of the plates on the tray.

“Hey, I am injured and-“ Avatar Aang protests.

“You are being dramatic because your wife isn’t here to heal you.” Teo interrupts. Avatar Aang makes a mock offended sound and Teo looks over at Pema with a droll look on his face. “He landed wrong after our glider race and barely twisted his ankle. He also knows some basic waterbending healing and could fix it himself just fine, but is instead choosing to be a nuisance-“

“Am not, you’re the one who did the calculations to see how much faster you could take the turns down the ramps with the extra weight and airbending-“

Pema watches as they bicker playfully for a few moments. She’d known her uncle had met the Avatar- had met Aang in his youth during the war, but had never connected to the idea of them being actual friends.

Teo rolls his eyes and looks over at Pema.

“Thank you again, I’ll make sure the dishes get back down to the kitchen.”

“Before they get moldy this time?” She says pointedly. Teo grins sheepishly and Aang laughs.

“Before they get moldy.” He promises.

Pema nods in satisfaction and leaves the office. She makes her way down the hall, across a wide courtyard, to a bench that she promptly sits down on and stares up at the sky. A few minutes pass before Li Wei does. They wave as they walk by, slowly backing up with a quizzical expression when Pema doesn’t respond.

“Pema? You okay?”

“Yeah, um. Shock? I think?” She says, slightly dazed. Li Wei sits down next to her. “I just met the A- Aang, when I brought Uncle Teo lunch.”

“Oh!” Li Wei laughs. “Yeah, he stops by at least a few times a year to check in on things and make plans with Teo. He’s sweet, right?”

Hearing the Avatar referenced to so casually startles Pema out of her lingering shock. She laughs.

“I- yeah, he was nice.” She finally manages to shake off the strange shock of it all. “Come on, you can walk with me back to the kitchens.”

Over the rest of the week Pema spots Master Aang- she can’t shake the title in her own head, it feels rude- throughout the temple grounds. He seems to know most, if not all, of the acolytes based on how many different people Pema sees him talking with or listening to.

He leaves at the end of the week. The inhabitants of the temple gather in the front courtyard to see him off. Pema stands towards the back as Master Aang waves cheerfully to the gathered group before saying his goodbyes to the abbot and Uncle Teo. His flying bison comes into sight, landing with a heavy thud in front of them. Pema gasps, staring. Master Aang jumps easily up to sit between the bison’s horns and gives them one last cheerful wave before they take off with a sweeping gust of wind. Pema watches with delight, some small kind of awe catching in her heart as they wheel around in a loop above them before setting off.

The small crowd disperses, but Pema stays, watching the shape in the sky get smaller and smaller. Down near the edge of the platform, she can see her uncle doing the same. There’s a wistful look on his face as his eyes track the small dot in the sky until it fades out of view.

Pema can’t decide if it’s in envy of Master Aang’s flight capabilities or…..

Her uncle turns and wheels away back towards the center of the temple without noticing her.

Well, Pema decides confidently, she would never be so foolish as to have feelings on someone so clearly taken.

/

The first time she sees Tenzin she is carrying a load of clean laundry to storage.

A shadow passes by oddly and she pauses to look out one of the many wide windows along the walkway. A moment later, an orange glider zips by, nearly close enough that she could have reached out and touched it. Only a couple of people in the world had gliders with those color wings. (The people and acolytes of the Northern Temple preferred to stick to blue or green fabrics.) She watches in wonder as the airbender lands in the courtyard below, snapping the glider shut with a quick whirl of his hand. When he straightens up, shaking his wind-swept robes back into order, Pema realizes that this isn’t the airbender she’s met before. This must be the Av- Brother Aang’s youngest son, the only other airbending master. She can’t remember his name off the top of her head. Something with a T? K? she’ll remember later.

She does remember how the sky-blue of his tattoos stand out against his sun-brown skin and that she blushes and continues on her journey to the linin closet when he vanishes from sight.

/

Teo and Li Wei teach her how to use the adapted gliders to navigate the currents around the temple. Her uncle shows her carefully recreated maps illustrating the currents around the building and throughout the valley, as well as a few precious old travel routes used by airbenders in the past. He makes sure she knows how to find a steady lift and how to tell if she’s about to lose altitude. By the end of her first year at the temple she feels comfortable to go out on solo flights, and Teo gifts her with an adapted glider of her own. Pema carefully embroiders the patterns of the air currents onto the fabric of the wings, resealing the tightly woven and thinly waxed cloth as she goes.

“There must have been a lot of adjustments made to let the acolytes live here.” Pema remarks during one early gliding lesson, as she sits with her uncle and goes over the parts of the machines. Teo shrugs.

“Not really. Most of the work done here was to repair or incorporate what my father did. There were always non-benders in the temples from what I can tell.” He squints down the brace of a wing to check the leveling. “When I was a kid, there were always stories of kids who would vanish in the northern woods, or of people who abandon their children there, because there was a legend that the spirit of Avatar Yangchen would keep them safe. I think that it was really the monks here- and probably at the other temples too if they were near enough- that would take the kids in. Since the locations of the temples were kept fairly hidden for so long, it would probably seem like people would just vanish or be taken by spirits in the woods, because that would be more likely than stumbling upon an airbender temple.”

“Huh.” Pema had grown up hearing stories like that too- mostly told by groups of children at night to spook each other. It’s a nicer thought to consider Teo’s version.

“Yeah, there’s a couple of surviving works by a scribe for the temple who I’m pretty sure was a non-bender. You can find them in the library, if you’re curious.”

“That sounds really interesting, I’ll have to find them this afternoon!”

Teo shoots her a grin.

“Sounds like a plan. But for now, let’s test these gliders out!”

He rolls down the long platform before dropping off the edge with a whoop. The current carries him back up into view after a beat, and he does a slow circle as he waits for her. Pema takes a deep breath, then takes a running start and follows.

/

Eventually she gets, if not completely used to, at least not taken by surprise when Avatar Aang shows up to the temple. Sometimes he comes by just check in with the acolytes, or to visit with Uncle Teo, or just stopping because he’s passing by.

After a few years, it hardly phases her to talk to him. It doesn’t surprise her when he joins her out on one of the wide balconies, sitting down on the sun-warmed stone next to her. For all his height and power, he is a remarkably unintimidating person.

“Do you mind if I sit with you?” He asks. Pema shakes her head.

“Please, I was just enjoying the late afternoon sunshine. It’s the first warm day in a long while.” She sighs and tips her face up to the sunlight, closing her eyes in contentment. She hears Aang hum in agreement beside her and his breathing slows and goes steady beside her. If Pema concentrates, she can feel the reaction of the breezes around them to his slightly-to-long breaths, the ever so gentle unnatural tug of the wind towards and away from them. They sit quietly for a long while, until the shadow of the building starts to encroach on their sunshine. Pema sighs as she feels the cool edge of the shadow signally the end of her balcony time. She opens her eyes, stretching a bit after sitting so long. Aang stirs a moment later and Pema glances over with a smile.

He looks at her and, for a moment, she sees something altogether ancient and deep in his eyes. It makes her skin crawl. She blinks. The moment passes and for the life of her she cannot place what was so disconcerting about Aang as his kindly grey eyes- not deep or dark or overwhelming- crinkle in the corners as he smiles in return. He shifts and leans back against the temple wall behind them.

“I used to come here to watch the skybison polo championships, each temple would send a team and-“ His voice is tender and joyful as he recounts stories about the temple. Pema follows the path of his long fingers as he traces the old racing paths through the air, describing what it was like to have hundreds of air nomads gathered together. She pictures it as he describes the scenes, closing her eyes briefly and imaging the fresh breezes blowing by, warmed by the summer sun, carrying the smell of bison fur and the cheers of the audience. Aang stops suddenly and Pema opens her eyes the darkening temple grounds.

“My apologies, Pema, I didn’t mean to keep you late.”

“Oh, no, please continue!” Pema says earnestly. “I was just-“ She gestures loosely. “-picturing it all. It sounds lovely.”

Aang’s eyebrows raise slightly before he smiles slightly.

“Oh, okay, of course.” He looks at her solemnly, lifting a hand and pointing to one of the high windows in a turret across from them. “That is the best tactical location for throwing a pie and landing it on someone’s head.”

Pema bursts into laughter at the unexpected information.

“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you.” She says after recovering from her giggles. The last of the evening bells sound from deep in the temple. Pema sighs before standing up, brushing her robes off. She bows politely to Aang. “It was nice talking to you, I’d be happy to hear any stories that you have to tell. Goodnight.”

He stands and offers her a shallow bow in return.

“A listening ear is as invaluable as a story to tell. I have enjoyed your company, Pema. Goodnight.”

They exchange smiles and Aang sits back down as Pema walks away. She glances back as she nears the walkway back towards the dormitories. Aang is sitting back against the temple, head tipped back as he looks up at the moon. It almost looks as if he’s talking to it. Pema shakes her head. She supposes that it’s not impossible, he is the Avatar, and she’s heard rumors… but that would be ridiculous.

Pema goes to bed and she dreams of watching a herd of bison and their riders fly through the air in awe.

/

Occasionally Pema sees the Avatar’s youngest son coming and going from the temple. He shares meals with the acolytes, consults with her uncle, and sometimes she spots him in the library aisles. But their paths never really cross beyond the occasional passing by in the same hallway or sharing a table or space during a meal. A few times he fills in for his father in leading a teaching or assisting with a festival.

Tenzin has a different style from his father, slightly brisker in his pace and a subtle nervousness to him that Pema doesn’t think many people notice. But she also notices that he always stops to listen to the other acolytes, his tall frame stooped slightly as he listens intently to whatever information or story he’s being told.  A few mornings when she wakes up early to start the baking for the day, she spots him up as well, sweeping the yards in steady, efficient spirals. She almost works up the nerve to approach him and ask why he doesn’t just airbend the ground clear, but instead merely watches for a few minutes. He lifts his head to look in her direction and she ducks out of sight, hurrying down the halls to the kitchens, ignoring the blush she can feel across her face.

/

Pema has been at the Northern Air Temple nearly ten years when the abbot gathers them unexpectedly to the main hall. He waits until they are all gathered, looking gravely out at them. Pema looks around for her uncle, but can’t find him. She frowns slightly, settling down in her seat beside Li Wei.

Avatar Aang, the abbot says, voice thick, has left the mortal plane and gone to be with the spirits.

The hall is stunned silent. Pema feels like her stomach has dropped to the ground. Li Wei reaches out and grabs her hand, leaning into her side. Pema squeezes back automatically, mind spinning.

The temples will be taking a day of silence in mourning, the abbot continues, until sunrise the next morning the temples will be silent, not even the bells sounding, the normal schedule apart from necessities set aside for the day.

They are released from the meeting and there’s a long moment before they slowly begin dispersing. Pema and Li Wei look at each other. Li Wei gives her a beseeching look and Pema shoos them away. She knows that they want to check in on their mother. Jai had been friends with Avatar Aang for a long time. Li Wei squeezes her hand once more before turning and hurrying down a hall out of sight.

Pema walks quietly down the halls. There had been some rumors and then quiet confirmation of Master Aang’s illness for some time now, but it was another thing to suddenly live in a world without him in it. Pema follows the gentle slope of the wide hall down to the large wooden door. She knocks quietly, pushing it open when she gets no response. She finds her uncle near the window of his office, his face buried in his hands. Teo startles a little when Pema puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Oh, Pema.” He says, hastily trying to wipe his tears away.

Pema reaches out and takes his hands. The soft leather of his fingerless gloves is warm and slightly damp under her fingers. He finally meets her eyes with his own red-rimmed ones. She can feel her own grief for the kind man she’d known well up. The sight of her blinking away her own tears prompts another wave from her uncle. She leans over and pulls him into a tight hug. Teo hugs her back just as tightly and together they embrace their sorrow over the loss of their friend.

/

It’s a month later that Master Tenzin shows up at the temple.

He walks with a heaviness that Pema has never seen any airbender move with before. (Regardless that she’s only ever known the only two in the world, and doesn’t even really know Master Tenzin all that well.) Pema decides to give him his space. Other acolytes will be talking with him or taking up his time here and Pema doesn’t want to be one of them. If they are meant to know each other, she thinks confidently, then it will happen.

It isn’t until he’s been there a week that they cross paths in the library.

Pema is nervous at first, but Tenzin is surprisingly easy to talk to. He seems genuinely interested in her work and follows her around the space as she talks about what she and Jai have done. Before she even realizes, hours have passed, and the conversation has never ceased. The evening bells ring as they eat warm bowls of noodles and Pema looks up with surprise at the sound.

They part ways for the evening, but even after night falls Pema finds herself still full of jittery energy.

Something about the conversation with Tenzin has her mind whirling with ideas. Resigning herself with not sleeping just yet, Pema quietly makes her way up to the platform several stories up from her uncle’s workshop. Not many acolytes come out there, especially not at night, so Pema almost always has the location to herself. She looks up at the bright light of the moon as she climbs over the ledge to the overhanging platform. Automatically, before she sits down she reaches up with cupped hands to scoop up a palmful of moonlight and pour it over her head. She smiles a little at the old blessing- something about full moons, full hearts, and full stomachs- and settles in to meditate and clear her mind.

Pema doesn’t know how long it’s been when the buzzing energy finally gives way to a settled calm. She sighs and stays where she is, enjoying the cool night air, opening her eyes to stare up at the moon.

There’s a quiet sound off to the side and she doesn’t need to look to know who it is.

Tenzin joins her, quietly settling down by her side. (It’s a strange feeling, to be in the same orbit as a person for so long, to know them for less than two days, but to feel as if he has always been there by her side. Or that the spot has always been held there, waiting for him.)

They talk quietly under the moonlight and he must feel the same sudden trust that she does as he voices his grief. Pema pulls him into her arms, tucking her chin over his head. She has faith in him, why exactly she doesn’t know, but her faith has led her well so far in her life.

They eventually pull apart and Pema shivers at the sudden loss of body heat in the cool night air.

“Oh, here, let me.” Tenzin’s voice is still rough from his tears, but he takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out.

The air around them suddenly warms. They sit quietly, leaning shoulder to shoulder in the warm bubble of air Tenzin has conjured up for them, and stare up at the moon together.

/

Weeks later, Pema searches the library rows for Jai, but fails to locate the older acolyte. With a huff, she scales the small stairway to the upper levels that had been added to the library for the acolytes use.

She ducks down the hall of alcoves on the upper floor, checking to see if Jai had gotten caught up in her work in any of the small cubbies. Instead, in the third room she finds Tenzin.

He is slumped over the low desk, fast asleep. A pen hangs loosely in one hand, as if he’d nodded off in the middle of a sentence. Pema gently plucks the pen from his slack grip and sets it and the inkwell out of accidental knocking over range. Tenzin doesn’t so much a stir at her presence. There are deep shadows under his eyes that signal a poor night’s sleep. The warm afternoon sunlight sits softly across the planes of his relaxed face. Something in Pema’s heart squeezes tight at the sight of the peaceful look on his face. She creeps out of the room, checks the rest of the alcoves to find them empty, dashes quietly down the stairs to grab one of the books she’d been reading, then hurries back up to settles down and sit at the end of the hall. Her question for Jai isn’t urgent, she can wait.

She doesn’t know how long she sits there on the smooth stone floor, shushing and redirecting the handful of other acolytes that come by, sending them away from the hall to allow Tenzin to sleep uninterrupted.

Pema startles from her reading when the bell for evening gathering sounds throughout the temple. Glancing out a nearby window, she can see the sun has dipped down towards the horizon. Shortly after the bells sounds, Tenzin appears in the hall, bemused and slow to wake. Pema stands when she spots him.

“Oh, Pema, hello! I must have fallen asleep.” He says, slightly embarrassed. Pema smiles at him genially.

“I’ve taken my share of naps in the alcoves- the warmth in the afternoon this time of year sneaks right up on you.” She chuckles. Tenzin gives her a slightly sheepish look. “Shell we get going then?” She adds, turning to head back down.

“Yes, indeed. I’ll be there shortly, I just need to drop a couple things off in my room.” Tenzin holds up the books he’d had on the desk.

They walk down the narrow staircase to the main library and Pema goes to put her book back as Tenzin turns to go towards the dormitories. Pema watches him go, the way the fabric of his robes flows freely around him as if untethered by gravity, her heart squeezed tight in her throat again.

Then she turns and puts her reading away before leaving to join the other acolytes for evening gathering.

/

Tenzin comes back and it’s wonderful. She’s missed their conversations and time together.

It occurs to her in full late one night, as she goes to bed after they share a late pot of tea. Pema stares up at the ceiling and thinks. Oh.

She’d known for a while that she liked him, but something this evening- watching the lamplight play over the curve of his smiling cheekbone, the duck of his head as he’d laughed silently at something she’d said- had slide something securely into place. Pema lifts a hand and rests it over her thudding heart.

Oh.

/

Pema is startled by a flick to her ear.

“Ow!”

“What’s with you today?” Li Wei asks, hand dropping back to breakfast preparations as they work next to each other at the counter. “You’re completely spaced out this morning.”

Pema sighs, slowly rolling the dough beneath her hands out.

“I’m just. Thinking. About a realization I had last night.”

“A realization huh? What about?” Li Wei flicks a pile of chopped herbs into a waiting bowl before grabbing a fresh bunch. Pema is quiet for a long moment.

“I have… feelings, for someone. Strong feelings. So I’m trying to decide what to do about it.”

Pema sets the first ball of dough aside and pulls another bowl forward. Li Wei’s chopping slows on the block.

“Is that so?” Their voice sounds weirdly strangled. Pema gives them a glance and they clear their throat awkwardly, resuming chopping the bundle of herbs.

“I just don’t know if I should say something or not. I wouldn’t want to ruin the relationship that we have, you know?”

“That’s true. But honesty is always best right? And you never know if they’ll feel the same way unless you say something. If it were me, I’d want to know. So you could tell me, at least.” Li Wei accidentally flings half of the freshly chopped herbs onto the floor and curses, scrambling to clean up. Pema bites back a laugh. Then she sighs again, sitting down on a stool.

“I’m in love with Tenzin.” She admits, looking down at her clasped hands. Li Wei drops their chopping knife with a clatter, swearing as it falls off the counter and narrowly misses their foot.

“If you’re that sure about it, you should tell him, he’s a good guy.” Li Wei scoops up the knife and the herbs, haphazardly putting them away. “I just remembered I have to go. There’s a. Something I have to go and do. Right now. I’ll see you later, Pema.”

“I’m pretty sure he has a girlfriend- Li Wei?” Pema stares in bewilderment as her friend hurries away, not even bothering to clean-up their workstation. She makes confused eye-contact with an older acolyte on the other end of the room, who merely shrugs.

She doesn’t see Li Wei for the rest of the morning, which is unusual. Pema volunteers to take lunch to the workshop and brings her own meal along as well. She sits down on an empty bench and waits for Uncle Teo to notice her sitting there.

“Pema!” He says delightedly when he finally looks up from whatever he’s tinkering with. Pema holds up his plate and he bows in thanks before taking it, parking his chair beside her to eat. “You look like you’ve got something on your mind.”

Pema picks at her food for a moment.

“You haven’t seen Li Wei this morning have you?”

“No, I haven’t, why?”

Pema sighs. She feels like she’s done that a lot today.

“We were talking this morning and I think I upset them, but I don’t know why.”

“Well, tell me what happened.”

“We were doing morning kitchen duty and I mentioned that I… have a crush.”

“Let me guess,” Teo holds up his chopsticks, pointing. “it’s not on Li Wei.”

“Of course not!” Pema says, startled. Teo stares at her and Pema feels like she’s missed something. “What?”

Teo just shakes his head and takes another bite of his lunch.

“You should talk to your friend.” He says sagely. Pema folds her rice and fillings into her lettuce leaf a tad more aggressively than usual.

“I have been trying, but I can’t find them anywhere.”

Teo squints out the window at the cloudy sky.

“Try the repair shop.”

Pema takes his advice after lunch and returning their dishes to the kitchens. The hall down to the woodshop and weaving rooms always smells pleasantly like cut wood and soap. She finds Li Wei in the second woodshop, taking a hand plane to a broad piece of dark wood in long, smooth strokes. She watches the curls of wood fall to the ground for a while before clearing her throat awkwardly. Li Wei stops, apparently unsurprised, setting the plane aside.

“I’ve been looking for you all morning.” Pema says, stepping forward.

“Yeah, I know.” Li Wei says. Then they let out a long sigh and finally turn to face her. Their eyes are red-rimmed and slightly puffy. “Honesty is always best, right?” They say wryly.

“Did I say something wrong this morning?” Pema asks, worried.

“No! No, it’s just. It’s hard hearing the person you’re kind of in love with tell you about her feelings for someone else.” Li Wei says, awkwardly scrubbing a hand over the back of their neck.

“Oh.” Pema says. She feels a bit stupid.

“Yeah.” Li Wei sits down on a nearby bench and Pema hesitates to join until they roll their eyes and pat the space left on the bench.

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize.” Pema sits down.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything.” Li Wei says. They let out a long breath, slumping back against the wall with a light thump. “It’s almost a relief, actually. Having it out there after so long in suspense of my own making.”

Pema reaches out and squeezes their hand. Li Wei squeezes back, offering a small smile.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I might very well end up in the same situation if I work up the nerve to talk to Tenzin.” She half jokes. Li Wei laughs, then winces. “Too soon?” Pema asks.

“Yeah, stiiiill a bit tender right now. I’m going to need a little while. But, I do think you should talk to him.” They say. “At the very least, you’ll have put yourself out there instead of always wondering what would have happened if you said something.”

Li Wei smiles sadly at her. Pema pulls them into a tight hug.

“I do love you, you know.” She says quietly.

“I know. I love you too, the same.” They say. “And that is more important than anything else to me. But I might, leave for a while. A few weeks or a couple months maybe.”

They separate and Li Wei stands to grab a broom and start tidying up the workstation.

“I was thinking that I’d go visit the Western Temple. Teo’s told me a lot about it and I’ve always wanted to go, so.” They shrug, sweeping the sawdust into a neat pile.

“That sounds wonderful.” Pema says, absently swinging her feet under the bench. “Can I write to you?”

Li Wei hesitates, the steady rhythm of the broom pausing.

“I… think that I’d like to write first, when I’m ready.”

“Right.” Pema says, planting her feet on the ground. “Okay.”

She takes a steadying breath.

“I’ll miss you and I’ll look forward to hearing from you.”

Li Wei smiles at her.

“I’ll miss you too, I look forward to being ready to write to you.”

/

Li Wei leaves for a stint at the Western Temple later that week.

Pema works up the nerve to confess to Tenzin a day later.

She is glad that she did- Li Wei was right- but as she watches the sky bison fade into the distance, she can’t help but ache.

(She can feel her uncle watching her from off the side hall, but she’s not in the mood for tea and sympathy, so she goes to the kitchen and scrubs dishes until she’s so exhausted she can’t think.)

/

While he’s gone, she writes to Tenzin. She tries to remember all the stories that Avatar Aang had told her during his visits. Information about the temple and it’s past, stories that happen during the day.

He once told me, very seriously, that a specific window in the northern tower is the best to use for pie target practice, she writes. Pema adds a small diagram to show the exact window and throwing angle Master Aang had shown her. She smiles at the memory.

Pema writes down all of the stories she remembers from Master Aang’s visits. Some of them, she’s sure Tenzin will know either from his father or from other acolytes, but she writes them down anyway in her own words, her own memories. Others are simply silly anecdotes or conversations she remembers having with the elder airbender on his visits to the temple. She recounts her first time riding a flying bison, how Appa had cheerfully butted his head against her and her delight at the sensation of soaring through the sky. How she’d learned to glide on the currents around the temple, recipes she’d helped create or restore from archives she’d found in organizing the library.

She writes and she waits and she hopes.

(The letter from Li Wei comes less than a month after they leave, cheerfully detailing all about the Western Temple. When they return three months later, it’s like they never fell out of step with each other.)

/

It’s nearly two years before she meets Tenzin in person again. They write back and forth, exchanging ideas and thoughts and stories. They take their time together, and slowly, begin something new.

/

It’s years later, nearly eight since she officially met Tenzin and a little more than two since she’s moved to Republic City and Air Temple Island. (The adjustment took some time at first, but Pema loves it here.)

She’s at market in the city- for as self-sustaining as the island is, there are simply some spices they don’t grow- when she’s approached by two metalbenders.

“M’am, you’ll need to come with us.”

Pema frowns and doesn’t move.

“What on earth for?”

One of them shifts a little uncomfortably, glancing at the other who answers.

“One of the vendors you bought from said that you’re using fraudulent cash, so you’ll need to come with us down to the precinct.”

“That’s preposterous, who-“

“M’am just come with us, I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding and we can clear everything up quickly.”

Pema throws her hands in the air in frustration- this is ridiculous and throwing off her entire schedule for the day. They escort her to a nearby satomobile and she tries to calm her mind instead of scowling at them the whole way across town.

Once they reach the imposing building, Pema is led down to a small room with a wall of glass, two chairs, and a plain metal table.

“Wait here, m’am, someone will be in to see you momentarily.” The metalbenders vanish behind the door they bend shut.

Pema sets her bag down next to a chair as she sits down. Now she doesn’t try and hide her irritation as much, folding her arms and glaring into the mirrored side of the room. Who do they think they are, making up something so petty just to bring her down here?

The door bends open and Lin Beifong walks in. She doesn’t look at Pema, apparently concentrating on the folder of papers in her hand as she sits down across the table.

“Acolyte Padme, seems you’ve been accused of holding counterfeit money, any explanations?”

She still doesn’t look at her.

“It’s Pema now, for several years.” Pema says irately. It’s been more than ten years since she’d taken her official vows as an acolyte and it’s not like her name hasn’t been splashed all over the tabloids for the last year and half since the press figured out who she was. “And no, I don’t have an explanation because I don’t have any counterfeit money.”

“Hmmm.” Beifong hums. “So you two are getting married then.”

The abrupt topic turn isn’t surprising, but it does take Pema off-guard.

“Um, yes. Yes, we are. Next month.”

“Guess it’s a good thing your robes hide pregnancies well then isn’t it.”

Pema stares at her, one hand reflexively jump up to her middle.

“I suppose so.” She agrees, lifting her chin. She’s not ashamed and some dark corner of her takes a sick kind of pleasure in Beifong knowing. Look what I can give him, look what you would never do. She tamps the thought down as quickly as it comes.

Beifong closes the folder of papers. She finally looks at Pema.

“You love him?” She asks, voice steady and face placid.

“Yes.” Pema says softly. “Very much, for years now.”

She can see Beifong’s hands tense for a moment, the papers shaking ever so slightly under her white-knuckled fingers. She doesn’t comment on it.

“Good.” Beifong says shortly. “Contact the precinct if you need any security for the w- the ceremony. You are free to go then.”

She stands up, taps the folder to set the papers, and bends the door open to leave.

“Lin.” Beifong goes still in the door. “Thank you.” Pema says gently.

Chief Beifong is motionless for a beat before she vanishes down the hall. An officer appears in the hall when Pema steps out to show her the way to the front door.

The doors shut behind her and Pema stands in the sunlight for a moment.

Then she goes home.

Chapter Text

The air above the clouds is cold and they travel through enough of them that Tenzin starts to feel the chill seeping in through his robes. He envies the thick coats of skybison for a moment as Oogie happily continues looping through the mist around them. Then he takes a breath and focuses until the small bubble of warmth he gathers around himself brings the feeling back to his fingers and toes.

He’d stopped for a couple of days in Republic City, checking in at the temple and seeing if Lin was available for a date at a local tea shop they liked. Well, he liked. He hadn’t gotten a chance to take Lin yet and hadn’t been anymore successful this time, leaving the city without being able to see her. She’d been apologetic in her note, but he also hadn’t been able to answer when he’d be back, leaving them at an awkward impasse.

Tenzin reaches down to give Oogie a good scratch on his head before shifting back to the saddle. Oogie obligingly drops down below the cloudline, the warm sun welcome after the cloudy stretch of the morning. Tenzin opens the traveling case for some lunch and pauses, looking at the two letters from the Northern Air Temple he’d received. They’re both from Acolyte Pema, her steady hand scribing thoughts on some texts that they’d been discussing before he’d fled left.

(He’s marveled at her knowledge at such a young age in their first week of acquaintance and she’d laughed at him.

“I’ve always gotten that,” Pema said, through giggles. “I have a young face, I guess. People always think I’m at least five years younger than I am.”

Tenzin had gone red at the assumption- she turned out to be not even a decade his junior- and Pema had merely laughed it off.)

There’s not so much as a wobble in the lines of her characters to indicate her thoughts on what she’d confessed to him.

Tenzin stares at the letters for a beat longer before shaking himself and getting his lunch before shutting the travel box.

(Tries not to think about how easy it is to think of how to write back, how easy it is to talk to Pema.

He tries to refocus on thinking of what he’ll do to make up their missed time when he gets back to the city with Lin. Thinks about the future he’s pictured hundreds of times since they were teenagers. It slips away from him like water through his fingers.)

/

Tenzin is going to be fourteen tomorrow and he is cold. (He’s been working and working and working on regulating his air temperature, but he can’t hold it consistently for a long time yet. It’s a technique that is usually mastered by children half his age. Babies could do it, he thinks moodily, staring out at the steel grey ocean.) He loves visiting the South Pole and seeing his grandparents, but it’s always so cold.

The crunching of snow under boots alerts him to the presence of another person.

“Hey, Tenz! I was just looking for you, it’s nearly time for lunch.” Uncle Sokka plops down on the ground next to him with a grunt when Tenzin doesn’t respond. “So, fourteen tomorrow huh?”

Tenzin nods.

“What time do you want to go ice dodging then, hmm? Big event, we can go whenever you’re ready.”

Tenzin shrugs, hunching down into his thick blue cloak. His uncle waits.

“I don’t think I want to go ice dodging.” Tenzin says finally.

“Oh. Okay. Why not?”

Tenzin shrugs again, unsure of how to voice his thoughts. His uncle waits a beat, then slaps his legs and stands up.

“C’mon, I need a fishing buddy.” Tenzin gives him a pained look and his uncle rolls his eyes. “Catch and release, I won’t hurt the fish while you’re with me.”

Tenzin hops to his feet and follows his uncle down to the small boat dock. Tenzin falls into the familiar rhythm of preparing the boat and taking off, some of the tension from his shoulder dissipating with the gentle swells of the water beneath them. He’s always felt at home on the water. If he closes his eyes, the dips and rises of the slight waves beneath them are almost indistinguishable from the feeling of air currents when he’s up in the clouds. He can hear the sloshing sounds as his uncle pulls up a couple of traps to check for spider-crabs and a loud splash as he tosses them back down to the bottom of the bay.

The winds change as they make it past the sheltered waters and out onto the open sea. Tenzin opens his eyes and breaths in the cold, clear air.

His uncle sets up a line and settles down on his bench.

“So what’s got you in knots over going ice dodging?’ He asks calmly.

Tenzin struggles to find the words. (He faintly remembers Bumi’s birthday when Uncle Sokka took him ice dodging. Bumi had been over the moon excited and still sometimes brought up his Mark of the Wise he’d been granted when he wanted to annoy Tenzin.)

“I’m an airbender.” Tenzin says finally. His uncle gives him a droll look.

“Yes, I’m aware.”

Tenzin rolls his eyes and flops back into the bottom of the canoe, staring up at the sky. They sit quietly for a while. Sokka occasionally picks up a paddle and corrects their drifting.

“Do you feel like you can’t go ice dodging because you’re an airbender?” His uncle asks eventually.

Tenzin stays quiet. His uncle casts his line again.

“You’re an airbender and part of the Water Tribe, Tenz. Just like your dad.” He frowns out at the ocean. “Though he did rather terribly when we took him ice dodging. Guess skybison steering doesn’t translate well to steering actual boats. You wouldn’t have that problem though!”

Tenzin sits up with interest.

“Dad went ice dodging?”

His uncle glances over at him.

“Yeah, your grampgramp and I took him out on his fourteenth birthday. He’s Southern Water Tribe too, y’know. Then he took us cloud dodging that afternoon. Ha!” Uncle Sokka lets out a triumphant shout and reels in his line, a good sized fish hooked on the end thrashing through the water. He holds it up for inspection. “Look at that!”

Tenzin admires the rainbow of the scales and fine bones of the fins. His uncle sighs and carefully unhooks the fish.

“Want to do the honors?” He asks, holding it out to Tenzin.

Tenzin takes it carefully and leans over the side of the boat to let it slip back into the water.

“There we go, back in his natural habitat.” Uncle Sokka says.

Tenzin stares after the vanished fish.

He thinks about how much he loves the rush of the wind on a sailboat or the steady burn in his arms from paddling a canoe or kayak, the same way he feels when mastering a bending form or new trick on his glider.

His uncle glances up at the sky, then picks a paddle and starts turning them back towards shore.

The next afternoon there is a storm, and they celebrate his birthday inside, sheltered against the swirling snow outside. The storm rages for several days- the first big storm of the season, his grandfather says- and Tenzin thinks and thinks. He hadn’t come to a decision by the time he and his uncle had made it back to the dock, but the sudden prospect of not being able to go because of the weather, not even getting the chance to try…. it makes something seize up in his throat. It would be one thing to have decided on not going, but this doesn’t even give him the choice.

(Eventually the storm passes, and Tenzin steers the small boat through the ice field left over from the weather, his heart in his throat. His uncle and grandfather serve as his crew and let out loud cheers when they clear the ice field, thumping him on the back in congratulations. They make it back to shore easily. Tenzin feels like he could fly with how light he feels. Well, more than normal. His parents are waiting on the shore for them and Tenzin waves to them as they approach, grinning widely. They dock and settle on the ground.

“Tenzin.” Uncle Sokka pulls out a small box from his pocket. “For your courage on this expedition, you earn the Mark of the Brave. Just like your mother.” He adds with a wink.

The cool clay paint sits right where Tenzin hopes his tattoos will someday. His uncle pulls him into a tight hug and Tenzin returns it.

“I know you were scared to do that, I’m very proud of you, kid.” His uncle whispers.

Tenzin squeezes him tighter for a moment, before letting go and turning to accept his parent’s congratulations.)

/

The Western Temple is a little over a day’s flight away, so they take it easy. Oogie meanders happily through the sky as they go. Tenzin leans back, reigns loose in his hands as he watches the clouds drift by them.

In the late afternoon he spots a small thunderhead forming in the distance and sits up.

“Alright, Oogie, let’s find somewhere to stay for the night.”

Oogie grunts in response and starts dipping down towards the treeline. They find a suitable cave on a cliffside to pass the night and Tenzin makes sure Oogie is settled in before grabbing his glider.

“I’m going to stop at the town we passed back there for some supplies.” He tells Oogie. The skybison flicks an ear in his direction and closes his eyes to nap. His glider snaps open with a satisfying crack and he takes off. Thankfully, there’s a large clearing a short way outside of town where he can land out of sight.

The town in small enough that it’s easy enough to navigate, but large enough that his presence isn’t particularly noticeable. He assumes that it must be a regular stop for the acolytes of the Western Temple since his robes don’t so much as draw a look. Tenzin manages to find a few things for his meal that evening as well as for the next day, as well as a few sundry items that he knew the temple always had some need of. He shoulders his small carrying bag and reaches the edge of town to leave when an elderly woman approaches him. Her eyes are wide, steps slightly unsteady as she reaches out a hand to him.

“Excuse me, Avatar Aang?” Her voice is slightly awed.

Tenzin takes a breath. The sudden weight he’d gone hours without acknowledging suddenly slams back down on him.

“No, I’m sorry.” He says. She squints at him as she comes only a few steps away.

“Goodness, honey, you don’t have to apologize for being someone you’re not.” She waves a hand. “You’re much too young, my eyes must be playing tricks on me again. But you’re the spitting image of him. Met him a while ago, came here to mediate something or other, but he was good to my family he was. Avatar Aang helped my two boys come to terms with each other, they’ve been running the best shop in the village together ever since.” She says proudly.

Tenzin listens and swallows heavily.

“That’s wonderful.”

She nods happily.

“Such a kind man, I hope he comes by again.”

“He won’t.” Tenzin says, before he can stop himself. The woman looks at him surprised.

“You sound very sure of that.” She observes.

“Well, yes, he-“ Tenzin swallows. “He died. So, he… won’t be coming back to visit.”

“Oh.” She says. “Well, what a thing then, to see the end of the war and the era of two Avatars begin. Life is strange sometimes.”

“Yes, it is.” Tenzin says. He wants to run, to take off to the sky, anything to stop this conversation.

“Ah, and it’s stranger every day.” She slaps her leg and straightens up. “Travel safely, young man.”

“Thank you.”

He watches her turn and walk back towards one of the houses at the end of the street before he turns and all but run back to the clearing. He snaps his glider open and all but flings himself into the sky.

Tenzin tries to take steadying breaths as he flies but he can’t quite manage it. His heart is pounding too fast, breaths coming one after another after another after…. He jerks suddenly to avoid a treetop. A strange blind anger is racing through him. How could that woman, that stranger, stand there and talk to him about his own father like she’d known him? Like she…. How could she remind him once again that his father was, that he couldn’t- (The sensible side of him argues that she hadn’t really known who he was, had probably just assumed he was another acolyte from the temple passing through, but it doesn’t seem to matter.) The winds suddenly change, throwing him up higher than he anticipated, before suddenly dropping again. He hadn’t been concentrating, hadn’t even noticed the storm blowing in quicker than he’d thought it would. Rain abruptly begins pouring down.

Tenzin blinks the water out of his face and grips the frame of his glider tightly to avoid getting flung from it. No matter how hard he blinks it doesn’t seem to help and he even risks taking a hand away to wipe his face. It takes him another moment to realize that he’s crying. He curses under his breath when he realizes and tries to refocus on not crashing and finding the cave where Oogie was waiting. The storm buffets him from side to side and he spins wildly. He can’t hear the tear over the storm as he catches on a tree branch, but he can feel it as the control slips that much more from his hands. You’re an airbender, he berates himself, gritting his teeth, a master airbender, you will not be bested by a summer storm. The storm seems to think otherwise, but just as he spots the cliffside with the cave, he’s sent spinning wildly off course once again. He slams into the unforgiving stone with a sharp crack.

Tenzin lands in an ungainly heap on a ledge that is thankfully wide enough to hold him. He manages to sit up with a groan. The rain lashes down as he feels around to figure out what’s happened. By some miracle he doesn’t think he’s broken anything, but knows he’ll be bruised and sore all over tomorrow. His hand bumps against something and he stills. Tenzin grips the remains of his glider staff and pulls it into his lap. The rain keeps him from being able to see the extent of the damage, but he can map it out with his fingers. The wings are snapped in multiple places, held together by the cloth in-between, and there are several cracks along the main body.

He’s still for a moment, his fingers resting along the grain of the wood.

(The ghost of a sense memory of his father guiding his hand to sand the wood down smooth, showing him how to maintain the glider for safety, how to do rudimentary repairs on the go, what kind of weave the cloth needed to be to stay buoyant…..

“And never try and fly through a storm, no matter how well you think you can handle it.” He’d said with a wink. “You might end up trapped in a block of ice for a hundred years!”)

Tenzin scrambles to his feet abruptly, pebbles skidding out from under him to be lost to the dark below.

He stares up into the storm, the howling winds, the battering rains.

“What do you want from me?” He screams. The wind gives him no answer.

He screams back at it until his throat is raw and his legs give out from under him. He leans back against the cliffside and pulls his knees up to his chest, burying his face in his wet robes as he gives into sobs that shake him from deep in his chest. He doesn’t know how long he stays there, trapped between the stone and the storm.

A distinctly non-weather related roar makes him lift his head.

“Oogie!” He rasps. Oogie hovers carefully as close as he can get to the ledge. Tenzin picks himself up and gathers his battered glider. He jumps from the safety of the stone and Oogie catches him. Tenzin slides down to lay across his broad, comforting head and buries his face in soft, damp fur.

“You came for me.” He whispers. “Good boy.”

/

When Tenzin is twelve, his brother leaves for good.

Bumi had been in and out of the island at random for the last couple of years, but now he was nineteen and truly striking out on his own. (Tenzin had overheard the arguments Bumi had had with their parents late at night sometimes, and privately thinks that maybe it’s a good thing for now that he’s leaving for school in Ba Sing Se.)

He’s curled up on his bed when Bumi finds him.

“Hey Tenz!”

Tenzin pointedly doesn’t roll over to face him. He hears his brother sigh and then feels the dip as he sits down on the bed next to him.

“C’mon, Tenz, don’t be like that. I’ll come back and visit before you know.” He reaches out and tugs Tenzin flat on his back. Tenzin stares at the ceiling, refusing to look at his brother. Bumi sighs again. “I gotta go and figure out what to do with myself. I’m not a cool airbender like you, so I don’t have a plan for my future. And I can’t do that here, not on this island, and not in this city. But I do know one thing- hey, Tenzin, look at me?”

He nudges Tenzin’s shoulder and waits until he drags his eyes down to meet his before continuing.

“I’m gonna miss you a lot, okay?” Bumi looks serious. “You’re my kid brother and I love you.”

Tenzin feels his lower lip shake and abruptly sits up and hugs Bumi tightly. Bumi hugs him back.

“You’ll come back?” He asks, trying not to sound desperate.

“Of course, Tenz. Any time you need.” Bumi gives him one final squeeze before pulling back. He stands up, rubs Tenzin’s head affectionately (Tenzin scowls at him), and picks up his bag. “Gonna miss my boat if I stay any longer, I’ll be back before you even notice I’m gone!”

He winks at Tenzin and heads out the door.

“Don’t let Kya wind you up too much!” He calls over his shoulder.

Tenzin stares after him for a moment. Then he turns and buries himself under his blanket. Several long minutes pass. Tenzin flings the blankets off in a panic and grabs his glider. He swings out of the window and takes a few running steps before launching himself into the air.

He spots Bumi’s boat pulling out into the bay. Tenzin can see his brother still on the deck, watching at the city grows smaller behind the boat. Bumi looks up when he spots the bright wings of the glider. Tenzin does three loops- Bumi’s favorite move on the gliders. He can’t hear it, but he can see Bumi laughing and waving at him from the deck. Tenzin waves back frantically.

Then he lets the wind carry him back home. He lands on the island and stares after the boat until it just a speck on the water, then gone beyond the horizon.

/

Tenzin is reminded of the stories he heard growing up as they finally land at the Western Temple. His parents, uncles, and aunts had fled from a crushing defeat to hide out here during the war. Aunt Toph a couple of other earthbenders who had been with them had been in charge of the repairs, since they’d been the only ones to know what it had looked like when they’d arrived. He touches the repaired walls gently. The stones is smooth and unbroken under his hands, long since healed over from the scars that neglect and the war had left on it. Neglect is the wrong word, it implies that there had been people left to maintain it, he thinks. Abandonment is wrong as well.  It hadn’t fallen into disrepair so much as it had been attacked and then left to it’s fate. Tenzin  is startled from his musings by the lamplight held aloft by a sleepy looking acolyte, who startles more awake at the sight of him, hastily bowing.

“Master Tenzin, we weren’t expecting you. I’ll set your room up at once.”

“It’s quite alright.” Tenzin waves the faint nervousness away from the young acolyte. He must be fairly new to the temple since Tenzin doesn’t recognize him. “I didn’t write ahead. But if you wouldn’t mind getting some bed linins for me, I’d appreciate it.”

The acolyte bobs his head.

“Of course, I’ll leave them in your room.”

“Thank you.”

Tenzin finishes brushing Oogie out for the evening and makes sure he’s settled in before making his way over to the dormitories.

He finds the guest room he usually stays in empty when he opens the door. The acolyte must not have come back from the laundry yet. He shrugs it off and steps out into the hall to wait. Tenzin spots the night-owl acolyte down at the end of the hall and waves at him. The acolyte waves back and comes down the hall towards him.

“Were the linins okay? Is there anything else you need?”

Tenzin squints at him, confused.

“There aren’t any linins in my room.”

The acolyte looks confused now.

“I left them on the bed. I also left the window open and a lamp on the desk. Plus I burned some incense to help it air out.”

“What are you-“ Tenzin looks down the hall to see the doorway where the dim lamplight is showing. His throat closes up, killing the end of his sentence.

“That’s the room reserved for the airbending master, right?” The acolyte looks suddenly nervous.

“Yes.” Tenzin says hoarsely. “Yes, it is. Thank you for your help, especially so late. Goodnight.”

The acolyte bows and heads away, presumably to his own chambers.

Tenzin is stuck in the hall, staring down at the doorway with the gentle lamplight filtering underneath the wood. It looks the same way it had when he was a child and crept out of bed in the middle of the night to tiptoe down to his parent’s room. As long as he stays here, unmoving, it looks as though if he were to open the door he would find his father sitting at his desk, squinting at a letter or some paperwork in the lamplight as he had so many times in his life. Tenzin forces his feet down the hallway.

The door opens easily under his touch.

The emptiness of it, although logically expected, still scoops a hollow in his stomach. The incense the acolyte had burned is a different one from the one his father had always used. The small lamp sits on the low desk, cheerfully letting its small glow light the room. The linins the acolyte had gotten lay folded on the end of the bed, along with a spare set of robes. Tenzin sets the robes aside and makes up on the bed. He sits on the bed and looks at the desk for a moment.

There’s a double image for a moment from when he was young, half-asleep in his father’s bed after tiptoeing down the hall in the middle of the night, watching his father answer letters by candlelight as he hunched over the desk.

He blinks.

Then he reaches out one hand to touch the old wood of the small desk. It’s almost strange to be able to reach out and touch it from the bed. Growing up it had always seemed such a large chasm, much too far for his small arms to reach.

Almost without thinking, he tugs open the side drawer. Part of him expects it to be empty or maybe have some loose parchment or old writing materials.

There is a box of old brushes and an inkstone in the drawer, but unexpectedly beside them is a cloth-bound journal. Tenzin freezes. His hand hovers over the book for a moment.

Then he abruptly shuts the drawer, turns his back on the desk, and forces himself to go to sleep. Thankfully, the day has been exhausting, and sleep comes easily enough.

The next morning he takes breakfast with the acolytes and moves his things to the room he’s usually used in the past. He takes the journal from the desk with him. He sets it on the desk in his room- it looks virtually indistinguishable from the one at the end of the hall, but it’s not his father’s- and stares at the plain cover for a long time. Then he leaves the room and goes down to the stables to check on Oogie.

He finishes drying out the saddle and travel bags, moving stiffly with the bruises left from his foolish actions earlier, before taking a deep breath and looking at his glider. Part of him wants to cry or maybe scream at his own stupidity as he gently pulls the shattered wings open from the battered body of the glider staff. The thin waxed cloth of the wing fabric is torn in multiple places and one of the connecting joints is warped to the point that it doesn’t fold away properly.

As much as it pains him, he knows that there’s really only one person who can repair his glider properly. He sighs deeply.

“I need to send a letter.” He says to the acolyte in charge of the correspondence of the temple. They nod and give him the materials. Tenzin sends the letter off and braces himself.

He returns to his room and finds himself in another staring match with the journal laying on the bed.

“It could just be old records.” He tells himself. “It’s just a book.”

He sits down on the bed and opens the journal before he can stop again.

The journal is filled with his father’s clumsy handwriting- for such a notably gifted speaker, his writing had always been something of a struggle. Tenzin traces the slightly crooked characters gently, following the path of the brush. The pages don’t follow a linear thought process or even seem to have a coherent theme. Some of them are lists or notes written to be reminders, others are stories from happenings in his father’s life, fragments of poetry or song lyrics, and a few that seem to be records of when his father had spoken with past Avatars. Tenzin can hear the ink in his father’s voice, the gentle lilt of his accent that never quite matched any other speaker he heard. He swallows down the lump in his throat and carefully tucks the journal away with the few of his own in his pack.

/

Tenzin is nineteen and stares at the ink on the back of his hands.

He follows the lines of his tattoos until they dip back and vanish behind his elbow.

There are days, far and few between, where he feels slightly guilty about his unblemished skin. It wasn’t until he received his own mastery tattoos that he really noticed it- he’d grown up admiring his father’s tattoos. Looking in the mirror at his own, all he can see is how clean and clear the ink is.

His father’s tattoos show the life he has lived on his skin; the ink is there, interrupted. The scar on his back is the most jarring, an inches long gap between strips of blue surrounded by long-healed streaks of scar tissue. There are small nocks in the arrows of his hands and feet from years of bending various elements. Thin white lines left over from the growth of muscle and bone cut through the ink along his upper arms. Nearly invisible nicks from the occasional razor mishap mark a few spots on his skull- he used them to teach Tenzin the trouble areas to avoid when he first started shaving his own head.

Tenzin absently traces the unmarked skin along his scalp.

Wonders if he’ll carry similar marks one day.

/

An acolyte comes to tell him that his letter has been answered and Tenzin thanks him before heading down to the stables.

He in unsurprised to find his brother cooing over Oogie and scratching his ears as the skybison eats up the attention.

Tenzin clears his throat. Bumi looks up and gives him a grin.

“Tenzin! Long time since your last letter.”

“I’m… I’m glad that you came.” I wasn’t sure if you would, hangs awkwardly unsaid between them.

Bumi softens, following him around to where Oogie’s saddle is stored.

“Of course I came, Tenz. All you gotta do is ask.”

Bumi lets out a low whistle when Tenzin pulls out his battered glider and hands it to him.

“You didn’t last time.” Tenzin says tiredly, leaning back against the wall. The last few days have been exhausting. His whole body aches even as he sits still on the floor. Bumi looks up from where he’d been inspecting the main body of the glider.

“What?”

“Hmm?” Tenzin forces his eyes back open.

“You said I didn’t come last time you asked.” Bumi looks concerned.

“I wrote to you, and Kya, when dad was-“ Tenzin swallows.

I wanted you there, but you were gone. Again. He thinks, his head fuzzy with exhaustion. You and Kya, always leaving. Always able to leave, to leave me behind. But mom and I had to stay and watch. We watched him die day by day and you were gone.

Bumi sets the glider aside and crosses the room towards with an expression that makes Tenzin suddenly aware that he may have said some of his thoughts out loud.

His brother kneels next to him and reaches out to grip his shoulder.

“Hey, Tenzin, you with me buddy?” Bumi’s voice sounds strange. Tenzin is aware of a rough hand on his forehead. “You’re burning up, let’s get you to bed.”

“N-“

“If you’re going to try and argue with me that you’re not tired when you were just falling asleep on the floor, you’re going to need to pick another angle of attack.” Bumi says as he hoists Tenzin to his feet. “You still stay in your old room?”

Tenzin nods. Bumi pulls one of his arms over his shoulder and they slowly make their way down the hall, Tenzin leaning heavily on him.

“I did mean to ask, what happened to your face? Because it looks like you got into a fight with a badgermole.” Bumi half jokes.

“Nothing. Stupid.” Tenzin manages. He can feel Bumi turn his head and give him an incredulous look. He sighs, wincing as it aggravates his sore ribs. “Tried to fly through a storm. Hit a mountain.”

Bumi can’t quite hide his laughter.

“I thought that getting into fights with mountains was more Lin’s thing than yours.”

“Oh, no, fought with her too, maybe?” Tenzin says, nearly tripping over the small step they come up on. “I think we need to break up.”

That does actually bring Bumi to a halt for a moment.

“Well damn.” He says.

They start moving again and finally make it to Tenzin’s room. Bumi dumps him unceremoniously on the bed. He watches for a moment as Tenzin unsuccessfully attempts to undo the clasp of his cape. His hands feel clumsy and far away from his body. Bumi bats his hands out of the way and unhooks the fabric loop under his chin. He pushes Tenzin to lay back on the bed and takes his shoes off for him as well.

“Stay there.” He instructs. “I’ll be right back.”

Bumi vanishes out the door and Tenzin stares after him.

Time goes hazy- it could be minutes or hours before Bumi reappears in the doorway, a pitcher of water and some cups in one hand and a bedroll tucked under the other. He hastily sets them down on the small side-table.

“Hey, Tenzin, what’s wrong? Hey, hey, it’s alright.”

It isn’t until Bumi pulls him into a hug that Tenzin realizes he’s crying again. His arms feel far to heavy to lift, but he leans on his brother and tries to figure out what is wrong.

“You were gone.” He says hoarsely. “You left.”

“And I came right back, just like I said. I’m right here.” Bumi says quietly.

“No- it’s…. You left, and Kya left, and Mom left, and Dad is gone, and I left Lin, and I’m alone. No one stays.” The words come out jumbled, spilling from some part of his mind that had been left to simmer for too long. Tenzin reaches up and tugs weakly at his robes. “It’s hot in here, why- it shouldn’t be so hot, the airflow-“

He tries to bend a slow breeze around the room- it’s so hot, how is Bumi still in his coat- but his aim is wildly off and he just ends up slapping some wayward air into his brother’s face.

“Oops.” He says. Bumi rubs at his jaw.

“I forgot how loopy you get when you have a fever. Here, drink some water before you fall asleep.”

He holds out a cup from the table, and Tenzin thankfully manages to drink it without spilling all over. Bumi makes sure he’s settled down before shifting to lay down on the bedroll he’d scrounged up. Tenzin’s hand shoots out and grabs his wrist when he stands.

“Stay?”

“Tenz, I’m just gonna sleep on the floor, I’ll be right here.”

“Please?” Tenzin whispers. He looks at Bumi with glassy, fever-bright eyes.

“….Okay. Scoot over.” Bumi grabs his own blanket and squeezes himself onto the bed that isn’t quite built for two grown men. “And don’t even think about giving me whatever it is you picked up in that storm. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“You’ll be here in the morning?”

Bumi stares up at the ceiling.

“Yeah, buddy, I’ll be right here.” He says softly.

Tenzin dreams of watching his brother draw maps.

It had always been a mystery to him how his high-energy brother had become, of all things, a cartographer.  Bumi travelled around the world, making detailed and beautiful maps for study or decoration, his pen and brush trailing deftly across the pages. When they were younger, he’d make up maps to go along with his stories. Tenzin would watch as he conjured whole worlds out of brush and ink as he spun tales about great heroes and adventures.

He dreams of watching Bumi’s brush pulls a fictional country into being on the page below them. He can hear Bumi’s voice, but can’t understand what he’s saying. Maybe he’s speaking one of the Earth Kingdom dialects he’d picked up to make the story more realistic. Tenzin turns to ask him and finds himself falling through the air. He tumbles down through the sky, the land beneath him suddenly real and unlike anything he’s seen before. The colors are more vibrant, creatures like none he’s ever seen come into view as he plummets down towards the trees. Something catches on his shoulder and he jerks away from it and-

Wakes up, disoriented.

Bumi has sat up next to him, looking worried, his hand still on his shoulder from shaking him awake.

“Weird dream.” Tenzin manages. His mouth is dry and he can’t remember why.

Bumi leans away for a long moment, turning back with a cup of water. Tenzin takes it gratefully.

“Well, I guess your fever broke then.” Bumi says with relief.

They wake up again to the sounds of the temple rousing in the morning.

Bumi stays for a few days, repairing Tenzin’s glider and cheerfully inserting himself into temple life. He happily explains what he’s doing to the few acolytes who watch him repair the glider with fascination.

There had been a long time where Tenzin had been envious of his brother’s ease of connecting with others, but for now he is content to observe. He has his own duties at the temple to attend to.

The few days that Bumi could stay go by quickly and before he knows it they are standing together on a shoreline, waiting for Bumi’s ship to come by. Oogie grumbles nearby, pawing at the gravelly beach in annoyance. The ship comes into view and Bumi hoists his travel pack up on his shoulder.

“Thanks for inviting me, little bro. Let’s not make it so long next time, huh?”

“Thank you for coming.” Tenzin says.

Bumi pulls him into a strong hug. Tenzin returns it.

Eventually, Bumi pulls away and Tenzin sits on the beach and watches until the ship vanishes over the horizon.

(He’s tempted for a moment to fly up and do loops through the air like he’d done years ago. But his glider is sitting and drying from the repairs Bumi did, so all he can do is wait patiently.)

He stays another couple of months at the Western Temple, carefully cataloging and recording what he’s found there. (He writes back to Pema with new findings, keeping it professional. He resists the temptation to write in every letter how are you sure? How do you know?)

/

When, he wonders, did he fall out of love?

(Had they ever truly been in love, or just so comfortable with each other that it was simply easier to stay? He shoves the though away as soon as it appears. It would be a disservice to both himself and Lin to even give the idea consideration. But it lingers uncomfortably anyway. Surely, surely, they had been in love.)

He writes ahead to Republic City, and when he arrives a few days later, Lin is waiting at the island for him. She waits until he jumps down from Oogie before stepping forward.

“Hello.” Tenzin says quietly.

“Hey.” Lin answers, arms awkwardly hugging her own body.

They look at each other for a moment. Tenzin studies the creases of her dear face, the familiar shadows and edges. She looks tired.

It’s easy to fall into a hug. Lin is out of her metalbender armor for once and Tenzin closes his eyes at the feeling of her familiar weight in his arms. The comfort of their relationship settles around them both like a worn blanket.

“Your letter sounded kind of serious.” Lin says eventually.

Tenzin sighs and pulls away from her. She slips an arm around his waist and tucks herself under his cloak as they walk in the cool evening air.

“Yes.” He manages.

They sit at the top of the hill above the bison stables. They used to come here as teenagers to escape their respective sibling’s antics. Tenzin has had hours of thinking and he still isn’t quite sure where to start.

“I’m glad you’re back.” Lin says, when he doesn’t speak. She leans into him, resting her head on his shoulder. “Everything has been so… strange with everyone gone. You’ve been the only reliable person in the city.”

Tenzin feels sick with guilt.

“I love you.” He says gently.

“I love you, too.” Lin answers.

Tenzin stares out at the city lights, trying to gather his courage. The hard choice is also sometimes the right choice, but that doesn’t make it feel any easier. Just because you know it’s coming, doesn’t mean it hurts less. Being able to see a sword being swung doesn’t mean that the blow is any less painful. He can hear his uncle’s advice in his ear.

Tenzin closes his eyes and braces himself.

“I spoke with someone recently about being honest about our feelings towards others. How it isn’t fair to not be honest with those you care about.” He says quietly. “And I love you, I always will, but, Lin… this isn’t working anymore.”

She goes carefully still next to him.

“What isn’t working anymore?”

“This. Us. It hasn’t for a while now, I think. And I think we both know it.” He opens his eyes with a sigh.

Lin is horribly quiet for a long moment.

“You’re my best friend, Lin, and I’d never want to hurt you. But this isn’t fair to either of us to keep forcing this along when we want such different things and-” He desperately wants to stop talking, but seems to have lost control over his own mouth, trying to smooth it over, make it better, to-

“Oh, fuck you, Tenzin.” Lin shoves him away and stands up angrily.

“Lin-“

“No, no, don’t you dare Lin me, you-“ She whirls around, jabbing a finger at him, before stopping abruptly. “You aren’t telling me something.”

“What?”

Lin narrows her eyes, staring at him.

“You met someone else.” She says suddenly, taking a step back in surprise. Tenzin sighs.

“Yes.” He says honestly. The hurt in her eyes at the confession makes him flinch.

Lin stares at him. He holds her gaze.

“Did you fuck her?” Lin asks lowly, after a moment.

“What?” Tenzin is caught off-guard.

“Did. You. Fu-“ Lin says louder, with more deliberation.

“No!” Tenzin shouts. “No, of course not. Spirits above and below, Lin, I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Lin stares at him, her face screwed up in fury. (An expression he knows is one masking the urge to burst into tears. They know each other to well to hide what they’re thinking from the other.) Tenzin hastily kicks off his shoes and plants his feet firmly in the ground.

“No, Lin.” He insists. “I… She kissed me, once. On the cheek. That’s it. It isn’t like that, I swear to you.”

“So, what, you met her and just decided for the both of us that this was over?” She spits angrily.

“Lin, the last three times I’ve been back home we haven’t even seen each other! When is the last time we even had a meal together? Spent more than a city council meeting together?” Tenzin lets his frustration creep into his voice. “I’ve proposed and you turned me down.”

(Years ago now, they'd been barely adults. Maybe she'd been right then all along.)

She stares at him, face pale with anger. He can feel the heat in his own face.

“I love you.” She says thickly.

“I love you, too.” He says, softening. “But-“

“But what? What?”

“But it isn’t enough! For either of us!” Tenzin bursts out.

Lin looks like he’d slapped her. Tenzin wants to swallow his own tongue.

She’s perfectly still for along moment, save her fingers twitching as if she’s deciding whether or not it’s worth trying to throttle him.

He manages to duck just in time for the first boulder to miss his head by a hairs-width.

Lin flings punch after punch at him, stomping and kicking in random combinations to send the earth beneath their feet at him. Tenzin flips and twists, dodging the haphazardly sized rocks while trying to avoid staying to long on the ground. When he catches a glimpse of Lin’s face through the rubble, he can see the tears pouring down her face. But she’d never needed her sight to fight. He doesn’t try and fight back.

They make their way down the hill as Tenzin tries to avoid going towards where buildings or anyone else on the island might be. He doesn’t want anyone else getting caught in the fallout.

Lin gets frustrated the longer the faceoff lasts with her landing no hits and him not responding. They’ve sparred together since they were children, it’s too even a match. She starts yelling profanities with each bending move, calling him every name in the book and then creating some impressive new combinations.

They end up on the far side of the island before she finally stops, breathing hard. Tenzin lands warily facing her. Over her shoulder he can see the path of destruction they’ve wrecked across the island and grimaces internally. The split-second of distraction is all Lin needs. The ground under his feet shifts and Tenzin winds up flat on his back. He doesn’t bother to try and get up as Lin stalks over.

She leans over and looks him in the eye. Her own are red-rimmed, her cheeks damp. He can see all the hurt and anger in her eyes as she looks at him. Wonders if she can see the regret in his own.

“I’m sorry, Lin.” He says softly.

He breath catches for a moment before she shakes her head and stands up.

“Goodbye, Tenzin.”

He watches her walk away towards the bay. She walks into the water, then seems to walk across it. He knows that she’s pulling up tall pillars of stones from the bottom of the bay with each step, the way she always has when she’s too impatient to wait for one of the boats. Tenzin has always been awed by her skill at bending.

In another life, he thinks as he watches her form shrink into the distance and become lost in the city lights.

Maybe in another life, where she is not her mother’s daughter and he is not his father’s son, they could have been happy.

Tenzin sits on the beach, alone, for a long time, watching the lights of the city.

/

He leaves the next day. Tenzin knows that the windows in Lin’s office have a view of Air Temple Island. He leaves the city and Lin to have her space and what peace he can. (He knows he cannot undo what he’s done, that he broke something irreparably. He can only hope that it is like that of a crooked bone; broken to help it heal into something stronger and truer than before. He never did have his mother’s healing touch.)

Tenzin takes a breath, lets it out, and heads south.

Chapter Text

Tenzin doesn’t realize they’ve gotten off course until the familiar blue roofs of Kyoshi Island come into view.

He’s been so lost in his own head that they’ve lost nearly a day of travel. They descend at the safe distance over the bay before landing in an open area near the docks. A few people come out and look curiously before returning to their day. Tenzin sees to Oogie before following a familiar trail through town to the dojo near the edge of the woods. As he approaches, he can hear the faint sound of the practice going on inside- the metallic sounds of weaponry, the near silent shush of silk against armor against silk, the cries of certain attacks. From the timbre of the voices and weight of the footsteps he can hear, Tenzin guesses it to be one of the younger classes, so he settles down under a tree to wait.

He breathes in the scent of the pine needles and slowly works to clear his mind.

He isn’t sure how long he sits there before he’s brought back to the present by the sound of soft gasps and hushed whispers. Tenzin opens his eyes to find a small group of little girls standing and staring at him. They’ve clearly just left from class and are heading back home. He knows that it’s unusual to see any of the acolytes this far from any of the temples, let alone an airbender. He smiles at them and brings up a small whirlwind of pine needles, letting it spin for a minute before gently letting it go, softly scattering the dried needles over the girl’s heads. They laugh and laugh at the display of bending, before waving and continuing on towards home.

“They’ll be talking about that for weeks I hope you know.”

Tenzin smiles at the green-clad woman who had approached on soundless feet.

“Hi, Aunt Suki.”

She’s not in her full uniform, face bare, with minimal armored layers on to teach the young class. Suki returns his smile and follows it with head tilt, her sharp eyes considering him for a moment.

“Come on in for a minute, I need to warm down for the day.” She beckons him to the open training space and Tenzin follows her, grateful for the flimsy excuse to move.

She falls into familiar steps, circling around the room and Tenzin falls in with her, mirroring the motions. (He still remembers when he was small and learning his first forms, the sudden delight that had crossed his aunt’s face at his demonstration. “These are similar to some of the beginning forms that we learn on Kyoshi Island!” she’d explained, beginning to do the steps with him. His father had joined in and together they’d gone through the form, smiling.)

The beginner steps are muscle memory at this point and Tenzin lets his mind drift as they walk through it, focusing on the motion and his breath. Until he stops abruptly. He frowns down at his feet. Lifts a foot and…

He can’t remember the next step.

Tenzin stares at his foot, frozen mid-step. Goes through the stances mentally. Left, then right, then hands, turn, repeat, again, and…

He can’t remember the next step.

It has to be there, he has to remember, he has to remember, he-

“Tenzin? Are you okay?”

Aunt Suki’s gentle gloved hand touches his shoulder and Tenzin is abruptly aware of his own rapid breathing.

“Take a seat, there we go-“ The light pressure of her hand guides him to sit on the floor. He’s aware of the shush of silk and muted clinks of her chainmail as his aunt sits beside him. “-hey, hey. Talk to me. What happened?”

“I forgot.” Tenzin says. He forces himself to steady his breathing, taking a long stuttering breath. “I forgot the next step.”

“Okay, let’s fix that then. Here, watch me.”

Suki stands back up and moves to restart the form. She steps silently against the floor and Tenzin watches, letting his breathing slow to match the speed of her steady feet. She turns eventually, the swirl of her skirt not unlike the motion of his robes when he takes the same step, and it clicks back into place. Of course. How could he have forgotten, how silly. Suki finishes the form, holds it for a moment, then steps out of it and comes back to sit with him.

“Thank you.” he says. “I remember now.”

“Everyone forgets a detail here and there.” His aunt says easily. “It doesn’t hurt to have someone else help remind you what they are.”

Then she claps her hand son her legs and stands up.

“Now come one, it’s nearly lunchtime and I don’t know about you, but I could use some food. Those kids wear me out.” Suki smiles at him and Tenzin gets to his feet as well.

They walk back down to the village proper, dried needles shushing under their feet.

“So, what brings you here? It’s not exactly right off the trail to anywhere.” Aunt Suki asks, tugging off her gloves as they walk and tucking them in her belt alongside her fans. Tenzin shrugs.

“I’m going to see my mother, but I guess Oogie had other plans for us today.”

Suki glances sideways at him like she doesn’t quite believe him, but lets it go. The towering statue of Avatar Kyoshi comes into view as they walk down the hill.

“Did your dad or I ever tell you about why the Kyoshi Warriors have such similar basics to airbenders?” Suki asks. Tenzin shakes his head. “It was because of her father.”

It’s Tenzin’s turn to glance quizzically at her.

“Avatar Kyoshi was from the Earth Kingdom.”

“Technically, yes.” They pass under the long shadow of the statue and duck into Aunt Suki’s home. “But she was abandoned as an orphan by her blood parents.”

Suki waves for him to sit as she sets about getting them some lunch.

“Actually, by blood she was much like you and your siblings- half Air Nomad. But the man she truly considered her father was a monk from the Southern Air Temple. He all but adopted her when he found her as a child.”

Suki returns to sit at the low table with him, setting a bowl and some seaweed wraps in front of him. Tenzin bows in thanks.

“I had no idea Avatar Kyoshi was raised by an airbender.” Tenzin says, surprised. “Was he her airbender master as well?”

“Much of her early life is known only to those that grow up here or seek it out. It wasn’t something people tend to care about as much compared to other parts of her life.” Suki says. “And sadly, no. He died unexpectedly when she was quite young, shortly before she became recognized as the Avatar. But she was reported to have a great love of airbending and the temples because of him. That’s also why the beginning steps for warrior training are so similar to beginner airbender forms- they were some of the first she knew.”

“Oh.” Tenzin looks down at his bowl.

(Tries not to think about the subconscious mental tally adding another unknown name to the list of airbending masters come and gone before him. Another one of the dead he will never know among thousands.)

He pictures the towering figure of Kyoshi doing the same steps he and his aunt had, hundreds of years ago. (Wonders if she ever forgot a step during practice and also thought of her father.)

“There might be some information about him in the shrine if you want to check.” His aunt adds gently.

“Thank you, I’ll look.” Tenzin says, mustering a smile. “I also have some letters to answer before I continue traveling.”

After their meal, his aunt has some business at the town hall to attend to, so Tenzin takes her advice and heads to the shrine. One of the members of the family who tends to the shrine is sweeping off the low porch when Tenzin approaches. They trade shallow bows in greeting. (The other man bows slightly deeper than Tenzin is comfortable with yet. He supposes he should get used to it, but he’s still adjusting to being among the leaders and keeper of the temples, hasn’t yet felt like he’s truly stepped into that role.)

“Au- Master Suki told me that there might be information here about Avatar Kyoshi’s adoptive father?” Tenzin asks. The shrine-tender’s face lights up in understanding.

“Of course, I can show you.” He turns and gestures for Tenzin to follow him into the building. “It’s not much, but we think what else might have existed in his home temple was probably lost when… when the war began.”

“Very likely.” Tenzin confirms, trying to set the man at ease. He is shown to a storage case and the man pulls out several scrolls along with a delicate ink image carefully enclosed in glass.

“These writings are from a monk named Jinpa, recording Avatar Kyoshi’s early life. The drawing is from an unknown source, but it must have been from someone very dear to her since it was among her things for so long. Feel free to look, just let me know when you’re finished so I can pack them back up.” He points over his shoulder down the hill to a small house, indicating where to find him.

Tenzin thanks him and settles down to look through the writings.

It takes him a moment to be able to read Brother Jinpa’s writings, since he writes with a quirk characteristic to scribes of his era, some four hundred odd years ago. He can almost hear the old airbender’s voice as he reads, the same faint accent that had tinted his father’s speech even into adulthood. There is a section dedicated to talking about Kyoshi’s mentor, with notes from Jinpa, and Tenzin scans it eagerly.

Kelsang, his name was Kelsang, seems to be a kindly man. The few things that Avatar Kyoshi had seemed inclined to share were gentle and clearly treasured. There are details missing or skimmed over in some parts of the short story. Kyoshi recounts that Kelsang had done something to be all but banished from the Southern Temple that Jinpa carefully skirts around and write neutrally about. He adds that Kelsang’s good name had been restored by the Avatar herself after his death. There is precious little information, but Tenzin gently touches the page and treasures it all the same.

Another airbender who had been forced to live apart from their people.

Tenzin wonders how many of them there had been through history, if he will ever find their stories.

He looks at the simple ink drawing after he’s finished reading the scrolls. The image shows what must be a young Avatar Kyoshi sitting and folding laundry. The burly form of a large monk that must be Kelsang sits beside her, helping stack the folded robes, his round, bearded face caught mid-laugh. A small figure in old-fashioned Fire Nation armor stands by the door, a faint scowl on her face. The short note along the bottom reads simply ‘a quiet afternoon- yun’. Tenzin touches the signature under the glass. He wonders who the artist had been. A friend of Avatar Kyoshi’s? The name had appeared a few times in the scrolls, but without enough information to learn anything about him. But he is grateful to the young artist who’s been lost to time. Their talented brush had captured rare likenesses and allowed Tenzin, for a brief moment, a glimpse back in time.

He finishes copying out his notes and lets the family who tends the shrine know he’s leaving for the day before going back to his aunt’s house after checking on Oogie.

While his aunt teaches her afternoon classes, Tenzin writes back to Pema. (Acolyte Pema. Probably more proper that way. He should write more formally, shouldn’t he?)

Dear Pema Acolyte Pema, It was wonderful good to hear from you, I’m sorry it’s taken so long to respond, I miss talking to you. You have a way of making things seem so simple and clear and I can’t thank you for sending me the new information, it has been a fascinating read. I have enclosed copies of some notes from Kyoshi Island with information about an airbending master important to Avatar Kyoshi Do you think she felt lost and off-course when she lost him? Do you think she ran way from those that she- that there might be more information on at the Southern Temple. An interesting follow up to your question is…

It takes three rewrites before Tenzin finishes the letters and hands them off to be delivered. By the time he does, Suki is finished with her classes for the day and meets with him as he returns to her home.

The day with Aunt Suki is pleasant, the mild weather of Kyoshi Island a nice break from the high altitudes and upcoming tundra. She insists he stay the night and continue travelling in the morning.

“I also have some things I’ve been meaning to send along to your uncle and mother, you can take them along with you.”

Tenzin wisely chooses not to point out that Uncle Sokka will be making his yearly trip north to the island in little more than a month and accepts the few packages Suki hands him.

The next morning dawns clear and bright and Aunt Suki sees him and Oogie off. She gives Tenzin a big hug and reminds him to practice his fanwork.

She fades to a small green dot along the coast as they continue their journey.

/

He hasn’t been back to the Southern Temple since performing the final rites ceremony with his family.

The familiar spires come into view and Tenzin knows with a sudden certainty that he can’t.

He can’t stop there, not yet. He isn’t ready.

The spires pass far below Oogie as they continue meandering south instead.

/

Tenzin was too young to remember the first time he visited the Southern Temple, but he knows the story from his parents. How he was only weeks old when they’d traveled south, the same as they had for his brother and sister, so that he could breathe the air of the sacred space into his small lungs. That his father had carried him to introduce him to the statue and memory of his old mentor, Tenzin’s namesake. (They make the same journey several years later, when Tenzin bends for the first time, so that he can be reintroduced as a proper airbending novice. The only things Tenzin remembers from this trip is the feeling of smooth, warm wood under his hand when he’d reached up to touch the hands of the old statue in the temple entryway and the faintest impression that the squeeze of his hand had been returned.)

He does remember his first trip to the Western Temple. The winds outside his window had been unfamiliar and the sound of the sea that was always present on their island was gone. The echo of the trees in the canyon was strange and unsettling. (Over the years the shush of the breeze through the leaves became a substitute for the soft sound of ocean waves.)

The first time he visited the Northern Temple is imprinted on his mind forever with the fond memory of his first solo glider lessons. He remembers peering down off the ledge, clutching his glider, knowing that his father will catch him if he really falls and then the exhilaration of being able to catch himself and fly. The cold, clean air whipping past him faster than it ever had before, catching and lifting him as his cheering father went on ahead.

Tenzin has one faded memory of an early trip to the Eastern Temple.

(He is walking through the mostly-empty skybison stables, the musty smell of hay and grass, the impression of the soaring bridges connecting the bodies of the temple. Following his father ducking under the cloth draped across the opening of a small side-room. It is warm, a fire going in the small grate despite the summer day outside. Tenzin remembers looking around the bare stone walls curiously as his father kneels beside a wizened figure. He speaks quietly for a moment before beckoning Tenzin over.

“Tenzin, I’d like you to meet someone. This is Guru Pathik, he’s been my friend and teacher for a very long time.”

Tenzin waves shyly, tucking himself against his father’s leg. He remembers the man’s bushy white beard and dark, twinkling eyes as he looked at Tenzin, his face wreathed in wrinkles. He laughs kindly.

“It is a wonderful thing to meet a young airbender, it’s been many years since I’ve had the chance.”

He’d holds out a knobbly hand and waits patiently until Tenzin reaches back, gripping his soft, leathery fingers gently. Tenzin remembers the man smiling, his bushy beard curling wildly around his white teeth, his dark eyes looking at him and seeing something Tenzin couldn’t yet.

“Mind your teachings, young airbender.” Tenzin nods and Pathik looks away, back towards his father. “It is time.”

“Oh. So soon?” His father’s voice was light, almost joking, but strange. Guru Pathik chuckled at the joke Tenzin didn’t yet understand before laying back on the sparse bedroll.

“I am ready now.”

Tenzin watches as his father takes a deep, steadying breath.

“Okay.”

The venerable guru is the first death Tenzin witnesses. He is offered the option to leave, but he stays in the room, watching quietly as his father sits beside the bedroll of his old teacher and talks him through the final stages of mortal life. Tenzin watches the peaceful transition from life to death and feels it in the air when it is suddenly only himself and his father breathing in the room. His father finishes the last prayer and the room goes quiet except for the soft crackle of the fire in the grate.

Later, he watches his father earthbend a statue of his old teacher up in the middle of one of the small spiraling gardens off to the side of a main walkway. The stone version sits in a peaceful meditation, one leg tucked over the other in a half latus, hands resting on his knees, palms to the sky. Tenzin helps his father tip small piles of seeds into the statue’s palms and around the base.

“For the birds, and any other small animals that come by.” Aang explains quietly. “Sifu Pathik had a great love of animals. Appa loved him.”

As he grows, Tenzin always remembers to leave seeds or some kind of food for the animals at the statue whenever he visits the Eastern Temple.)

/

Tenzin is twenty and sits on one of the rolling island hills, above the bison stables, under the trees, with Lin beside him.

"I hate her." Lin says decisively from where she's sitting leaned against him, her uninjured cheek resting on his shoulder. He can feel her determined stare out at the water without needing to look at her.

"Do you hate her or are you just mad at her?" He asks. Lin’s finger stops where she’d been tracing the outlines of his tattoos on the back of his hand.

"What's the difference?"

"Well, you can be mad at someone and still love them, but I don't think that’s true with hate. Also be careful pulling that face, Mom said it'll make the scars worse.”

Lin sighs. He can feel her roll her eyes, but she resumes her gentle tracing on the back of his hand.

"Whatever, oh great and wise airbending master."

Tenzin bites back a grin at her teasing and a slight frown at her deflecting. His mastery tattoos are barely three months old now and Lin's master metalbender armor is only a few weeks older than that.

The fights between the Beifong sisters are a regular occurrence, as is Lin’s determination to hate Suyin. (She’s never been successful yet.) Tenzin knows her better than to think she really could ever hate her little sister. He isn’t sure if Lin will ever forgive Suyin for this though.

“Uncle Zu is visiting next week, maybe you should talk to him.” Tenzin suggests. If there’s anyone in their extended family that would understand what Lin was going through right now….. Lin hums thoughtfully.

“That’s… not a bad idea, I’ll consider it.”

 Which in Lin-speak means ‘thank you for the suggestion, I will absolutely not do that.’. Tenzin smothers an internal sigh.

“You know if he knows he’ll just corner you for tea and advice anyway.” He points out. Lin groans.

“His advice is inscrutable most of the time, why do firebenders- and airbenders for that matter-“

“-hey-“

“-insist on using so many metaphors. Just speak plainly!” She flings a hand in the air for emphasis.

Tenzin snorts, catching her hand and pressing a quick kiss to the back of it.

“I speak plainly.” He protests.

“You’re an open book to those of us that know you, to strangers you are also an open book, because you cannot keep a straight face.” Lin says, poking his leg.

Tenzin scowls at her. Lin bends up a rock from the ground a short way away from them.

“Now look, see, instead of punching my sister in the face, I’m going to pretend that the water in her stupid face.” Lin heaves the rock into the bay below and Tenzin bends a quick air shield to block the backsplash.

Lin gestures as if to say see?.

“You have to take your anger in, then let it out, let it go.” He says. Lin sighs.

“Maybe. I’m still just angry right now though. I’m not good at letting things slide away like you and Uncle Aang.”

“If I didn’t let things go I think I’d be angry all the time.” Tenzin says without thinking.

Lin is quiet for a moment before leaning back against him.

“Then I’m glad that you can.” She says softly.

/

Tenzin stares out over the long stretch of water ahead of them before they reach the South Pole. He reaches down and scratches Oogie’s head.

“Let me know if you need to slow down or rest in the water for a while.” He says. “It’s okay to take our time.”

Oogie lets out a grunt of acknowledgement and Tenzin sits back, closing his eyes for a moment.

/

Tenzin is nine as he sits on the little beach on the island, staring out at the water.

“Mind if I join you?” His mother’s voice interrupts his thoughts as he sits. She settles down next to him with a sigh. “What are you thinking so hard about, mm?”

Tenzin shrugs lopsidedly. Katara hums in understanding and they sit quietly together, watching the small waves rise and fall on the shore. Eventually Tenzin sighs.

“I miss dad.” He says eventually. His mom puts an arm around his shoulders and he leans into her side.

“Me too,” she says, “but he'll be back from his trip with your uncle in just a couple days.”

“I know.” Tenzin says. “It’s just kind of lonely.”

“Lonely?” His mom looks bemused.

“Being the only airbender here.” Tenzin clarifies.

“Ah. I understand how you feel.” Katara says, giving him a squeeze.

“Really?” Tenzin says skeptically. He knows plenty of waterbenders other than his mom. They come from all over the world to study with her and there are plenty of others when he visits their family in the South Pole.

“Mmhmm, when I was your age I didn't know any other waterbenders. I never thought I would ever meet them because they were so far away on the other side of the world. It seemed impossible!” Katara tells him. Until I was fourteen for all I knew I was the only waterbender in the whole world.”

“But it’s not the same.” Tenzin says quietly.

“No, not exactly.” Katara agrees. “But I do understand how sometimes your bending can make you feel lonely and separate from everyone around you. It can be hard when the thing that makes you special also makes you different.”

/

The icy edge of the South Pole comes into view by the afternoon. The rounded domes of the building have multiplied since Tenzin’s last visit. When he lands, his mother is waiting. She must have spotted them or someone had run and told her when they’d seen Oogie.

Her hair has grown nearly back to it’s usual length since she cut her braid in mourning, but it’s now in the tucked up style of an older married woman. The grey streaks that had been creeping in the last time he saw his mother have overtaken her head. (She still wears white mourning strips to tie the ends of her braids. Tenzin isn’t sure if she’ll ever change them. Or the style. Isn’t sure how he’d feel if she does.) She has a new hair-pin and when he compliments it she smiles.

“Your Uncle Zuko brought it for me on his last visit.” She says, reaching up absently to touch the lacquered wood of the pin. Tenzin doesn’t think he’s ever actually heard his mother call his uncle Firelord except once or twice teasingly. It’s strange to think that he’s just Lord Zuko or an ambassador now, even though he abdicated the throne nearly a year ago.

“Come, you’ve had a long journey.” His mother turns back towards home and Tenzin follows her. “You need some food and to rest.”

Some small part of him wants to protest that he is a grown man, he doesn’t need to be coddled, but the greater, more exhausted side of him is glad for the simple comfort and mothering.

Tenzin sleeps poorly that night, despite his exhaustion from travel and comfort in the familiarity of his surroundings. When he wakes for the last time, he finds the house empty, his mother and sister presumably gone to see to their students, a small pot of food set aside for him to warm over the fire. Tenzin eats and then makes his way to see to Oogie. Once he’s sure that Oogie is settled for the morning, happily napping in the warm sun, he heads down towards the water where he knows the training fields are. Tenzin crests the last hill as his mother’s last morning class is ending, students slowly trailing by him.

He greets his mother’s waterbending students as they leave for the morning. He’s taken by surprise as a tiny body slams into his leg at full speed. Tenzin looks down to find a little toddler staring up at him with wide blue eyes. A little waterbender then, who’d probably watching the class or had a parent participating.

“Hello there.” Tenzin says. “Where’s your parents, hmm?”

She grins at him before lifting her arms in the universal gesture of small children to be picked up. Tenzin huffs out a laugh and picks her up. She stares at the blue ink of his scalp tattoo in fascination, reaching up one pudgy hand to touch.

“Can you point at your mom for me?” He asks, shifting so she can see the people in their vicinity.

The toddler doesn’t bother looking, her little finger now tracing what he’s sure are dark shadows under his eyes. Tenzin gently pulls her hands away from his face and she frowns.

“Nap.” She says seriously, reaching up to touch his face again, patting his cheek gently. “You nap.”

Tenzin chuckles.

“Yes, I do need a nap. I’ve been traveling, but I’m here to see my mother. Where is your mother? Father? Parent?” He adds hopefully.

The little girl doesn’t answer, seemingly content to tuck her head under Tenzin’s chin and settle in. He sighs and adjusts his arms a bit to balance her weight. The soft hair in her short ponytail catches a bit on his beard and he is terribly aware of the tiny puffs of her breath as they gradually slow and deepen. The small weight of her is comforting, somehow, but also puts a strange ache in his chest.

Tenzin waits patiently with the sleeping toddler for his mother to wrap up with the last of her students. She’s delivered probably close to half the population of the South Pole by now, so she’ll know whose child this is or know someone who knows.

“Oh, thank goodness!” A voice gasps next to him.

Tenzin turns to find Senna, one of his mother’s healing students and a friend of Kya’s, leaning on her knees to catch her breath next to him. She straightens up after a moment.

“I was just running all over looking for her, how those little legs move so fast I do not know.” Senna gestures to the sleeping toddler he’s holding. “Looks like you’re a natural! The only people besides me and her father that she’ll slow down for are Master Katara and Kya, guess your mom passed on the touch to you two.” She says with a smile.

Tenzin smiles back.

“Kya did mention something like that when I saw her last.”

Senna laughs.

“Here, I can take her. Thanks for getting a head-start on her nap!”

Senna holds out her arms and Tenzin carefully tips the sleeping child into them.

“Shh, it’s okay, Korra, let’s go home for naptime.” Senna coos softly when it looks like she might wake up. She looks up at Tenzin. “Thanks again!” She whispers.

Tenzin waves a hand.

“It’s fine, she wasn’t any trouble.”

Senna makes a rueful face.

“For once at least. See you later, Tenzin.”

Tenzin waves and Senna heads back towards some of the distant homes along the edge of town. Katara walks up to him, shrugging into her [warm outer coat] with a sigh.

“Hello, dear, I didn’t expect you to come all the way down to the training area!”

“Hello, mother.” Tenzin accepts the hug she gives him in greeting before they walk together back towards town.

She gives him a calculating look before abruptly changing course.

“Come with me.” His mother says and he follows behind her as they walk down to the docks.

He helps her haul out one of the canoes and a set of paddles to the water, settling down in the front bench to let his mother steer. The smooth wood of the paddle in his hands as he falls into an easy rhythm grounds him in it’s familiarity. There had been countless trips like these throughout his childhood- Uncle Sokka taking him and Bumi on fishing trips, his grandfather teaching him how to net and identify different types of seaweed, his parents showing him and Kya how the currents of the air and water worked together. The memories come and go easily as he pulls at the water.

“Here we are.” Katara says eventually, dipping her paddle into bring them to as much of a stop as one gets on open water.

Tenzin looks at the ocean and the drifting chunks of ice around them. It’s not a familiar stretch, farther out than he’s ever been by boat.

“Where are we?” He asks, twisting around to look at her when his mother doesn’t continue, apparently content to sit in the mystery spot.

“It looks different every time I come here.” She says easily, reaching out to touch the slow waves. “But the water remembers.”

The ocean seems to reach back to her, playfully rising and falling around her fingers. Tenzin waits. His mother sighs contentedly and pulls her hand back up, casually bending the icy water back to it’s home.

“This is where your uncle and I first met your father.”

She doesn’t need to say anything more. Tenzin knows the story- the whole world knows the story of how his parents met. (It’s strange, even after it being a fact for his whole life, that every stranger in the world knows so much about his family.)

He look down into the deep water below them. Tries to imagine the massive iceberg rising up from the deep.

“It’s been so long, but I still remember that day clear as anything.” Katara says, fondness in her voice. “We were friends instantly. Being able to share my home and family with someone new was a truly novel experience.”

Tenzin suddenly, inexplicably, thinks of late nights in the library, sharing his culture.

“What made you leave?” He asks. (He’s heard the story hundreds of times, but he still asks. They always asked.) His mother glances over her shoulder with a smile.

“Destiny, I suppose. But mostly I wanted to learn more about the world beyond our village. Grangrans stories always made it sound so amazing. Plus I was determined to be a great master and the only teachers at the time were on the other side of a war and the world.”

They both glance upwards as a noisy flock of eagle-terns passes by overhead. Tenzin’s eye catches on one trailing behind the main group. It can’t seem to catch up and is too far away for him to help with a well-angled breeze. It stays behind the flock until the birds fade out of view.

“How did you know it was the right choice? To leave?” Tenzin asks, still looking out over the horizon.

Katara snorts.

“I didn’t. I was fourteen and stubborn as an emu-mule. We left everything we’d ever known behind, it could have been an absolute disaster, but fortunately it wasn’t. Only time can tell us the answer to those kinds of questions.”

Tenzin pulls his gaze back to the water under them. He reaches out a hand and creates a small waterspout in the waves before letting it drop back again to rejoin the rest of the water.

“I think I’m a little… lost, right now.” He admits quietly. His mother hums in understanding.

“Everyone is at some point.” She says calmly. “It doesn’t mean you’ll never find your way again.”

They sit quietly for a long time, Katara occasionally extending a hand to stop them from drifting too much. The sea breeze carries an occasional chunk of ice over to knock gently into the side of their boat.

“I miss him.” Tenzin says abruptly, throat tight. “I keep thinking of questions I could have asked or things we could have done, even though I know better, and I just. I can’t seem to find the next step forward.”

His mother reaches out and takes his hand. Tenzin grips it back tightly, unable to look at her.

“Oh, Tenzin, I miss him too, I will always miss him. But if there is anything I truly learned from Aang, it’s to not waste time dwelling on the past and to make the most of the present. I had time- a wonderful time- with him and now he is gone, which is sad. But the sorrow doesn’t mean that there is no more joy to be found in the world.” His mother smiles at him. “I find joy everyday- in you and your siblings, and all your cousins, in my students and the rest of the tribe, and in the knowledge that we are living in peace. You’ll be able to find your next step, just give yourself time.”

Tenzin nods roughly and lets himself be pulled into a warm hug. He buries his face in his mother’s soft coat, breathing in the familiar smell of hides and sea salt. He feels his mother’s fingers curl into the soft fabric of his robes to hold his close and has the sudden realization that she has needed to see him as much as he’s wanted to see her. (Shame wells in him for a moment, but he lets it out in the next breath. He is here now and can make amends for his absence.)

Tenzin lets his finger trail in the water as they return home, his mother gently bending the water under them in liu of the paddles. He watches the ripples as they fade away into the distance. Water, the element of change, an old voice echoes in his head, change and healing.

He leans back and closes his eyes. Listens to the gentle waves out at sea and lapping against the sides of the boat. Feels the cool breeze on his face and the warm weight of his cape on his shoulders. Knows that if he opened his mouth he would taste the briny salt and crisp ice that hangs everywhere in the air here on the back of his tongue. The patterns and currents of the seas in the south are as familiar to him as the air currents in the north.

They make it back to the dock and Tenzin steadies the boat as his mother steps out before getting out himself. Katara reaches out and squeezes his shoulder.

“I’ll see you at home.” She says softly. Tenzin nods and she leaves back towards town.

He sits down on the end of the dock, looking out into the steely waters.

Tenzin reaches down and scoops a small chunk of ice out of the water. The cold sinks into his hand instantly and the jagged edges of the ice bite into his skin as he grips it tightly. He stares at the ice in his hand, the marbled blue and white.

Ice, the very thing that had saved his father all those decades ago and taken him away in turn.

Numbness starts to creep across his hand under the ice. (He knows it wasn’t the ice, knows that it was spirit-given time and safety, and that there is always something given in return. And yet.)

It starts to melt slightly over his fingers and Tenzin takes a breath. Lets it go. Lets it flow like water, like air.

Then he throws the chunk of ice as hard as he can back into the ocean it came from. It sails through the air and lands with a large splash.

Tenzin watches the ripples as they dissipate through the small waves. Breathes in time with the rings vanishing back to be part of the water’s natural motion.

He waits a beat after the ripples have a completely vanished. Then he turns and follows his mother home.

He does not look back at the water again.

/

Tenzin leaves the South Pole and heads to the Southern Temple.

He closes his eyes and tries to imagine his parents and uncle making the same trip, decades ago. As the sun goes down, they find a ledge to camp on for the night a couple hours flight away from the temple. Oogie grumbles contentedly and settles down for the night. Tenzin leans against his soft, sturdy side and looks up at the night sky. The moon shines down on them, the barest sliver missing from one side.

Love and duty, he thinks tiredly. Does it have to be one or the other?

The rooms reserved for the Avatar aren’t dusty. For some reason Tenzin had half expected it to be. The long window on the far side lets in a soft breeze, carrying the faint scent of smoke from the small fire in the grate. There’s a quiet, steady burble from a small fountain set in the wall. A slightly faded rug sits in front of a large square of earth and vials of colorful sands.  Through the small doorway into the adjacent room, Tenzin can see a low bed with a bare mattress beside a small writing desk.

Tenzin swallows the lump in his throat as he sits down and picks up the old pen. He’s kept a running list of questions that he wished he had asked while he still could, little details he wishes that he knew. Everything he would have asked his father if he’d know that they wouldn’t… if he hadn’t gotten complacent in his duties he would know. He writes down all the questions that constantly crowd his mind. Sets them down in neat lists on the parchment, slowly feeling the pressure in his skull release into the ink on the page.

Why, he writes over and over, why, why, why….

He lets out all the hurt and grief and anger on to the page, lets it flow through him into the pen.

When Tenzin finally leans back and shakes his hand out, the sun has sunk lower in the sky.

He looks at the page. Copies out the few questions he thinks are worth doing actual research on to a fresh section of parchment and tucks it into his pocket.

Then he waves a hand over the parchment to dry the ink, picks it up, and rolls it into a neat scroll before walking out into the main chamber of the Avatar’s room. Tenzin approaches the small fire always kept burning in the brazier set into the wall. Look at the scroll in his hand one last time.

He takes a deep breath, thinking of all the questions and what he will never have the chance to truly know.

Then he lets it out, letting the thoughts flow with it.

He holds out the scroll to the brazier until the end catches fire. Then he carefully cups his hand over it as he walks out to the balcony. As the scroll burns, he bends the ash into the wind, mirroring the ceremony he’d had to help with less than two years ago.

The last of the scroll burns away from between his fingertips and is lost to the wind.

Tenzin lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. (it feels like one he’s been holding his whole life.)

And he lets it go.

There’s a sudden lightness, like he could float away right there. He lifts his hand and touches his chest gingerly.

(“Take a deep breath, concentrate on what you feel.” His father asks. Tenzin can barely hear him through the panicked haze. He gulps some deeps breaths and tries to concentrate. He can feel his father’s large hands hold his own, one resting on his own chest, the other on his father’s.

““Very good.” He says softly. “Now what do you feel under your hands?”

Tenzin closes his eyes.

“Our hearts.”

“Yes, what else?”

“Us, breathing.”

“Exactly. We are breathing and that plus our hearts beating means that we are alive. As long as we are breathing, airbending and it’s people are alive. It’s not over. They live through us.”)

Tenzin breathes deeply. The cold mountain air of the temple carries the faint green smell of the trees.

He smiles widely for the first time in a long time.

“The meaning of airbending,” he says softly. “is freedom.”

The light feeling stays with him as he turns from the balcony. He walks back through the Avatar’s chambers. Looks at the earth, fire, and water. Then he leaves, shuts the door behind him, and doesn’t look back.

/

He returns to Republic City and feels lighter than he has in years. It’s an odd feeling, but not unwelcome.

Oogie settles happily into his home stables and Tenzin makes his way up to the temple. He looks out over the hill as he walks, taking in the familiar shape of the bay. Tenzin lets his steps slow, taking in the island with fresh eyes. The golden afternoon sun lights the path, the trees, the distant greenhouses in it’s warm light.

He freezes for a moment in surprise.

The warm light sits gently on Acolyte Pema’s upturned face as she sits beside one of the long garden beds.

It is at once completed unexpected and wholly in keeping with the scene, as if she has always belonged there.

Tenzin carefully lets his footfalls land with some weight behind them, so he doesn’t startle her. A slight smile lifts the corner of her mouth. He sits a short distance away from her, joining her quiet enjoyment of the day.

After a long several moments, Pema opens her green eyes and looks at him.

Tenzin opens his mouth to speak, finds himself at a loss for words, closes it.

“It’s good to see you.” Pema says.

“It’s good to see you as well.” Tenzin says honestly. There is a beat, then he lets out a breath. “I didn’t- I am not good at putting my feelings to words.  I, I needed to take some time and figure out who I am now, because I'm not sure, not yet. And I wasn’t sure how to write with what has been going through my mind these last long months. But,” he swallows. “I do know that I care about you and would like to have a future with you. Whatever that could mean. I would like to spend time with you, if you would like that as well.”

Pema smiles softly at him. She reaches out and takes his hand, lifting it to press a gentle kiss to his knuckles.

“I would like that very much.” She says.

“I won't ask you to wait,” he says quietly. “that would not be fair. But if over time your feelings remain the same as you told me before, I am sure I will return them fully in time.”

“So formal.” Pema teases gently. He stares at her seriously. She lets go of his hand and reaches up to cup his face in her palms. “My feelings haven't changed, and I don't think that they will. My love is not so fickle that it can't withstand something like a bit more waiting.”

He brings his hands up to cover hers, closing his eyes.

“You are very dear to me.” he says, voice cracking slightly.

Pema pulls gently and Tenzin allows himself to be bent forward in her soft hold. She presses a kiss to his forehead and pulls him into a hug. His hands drop to return it, secure and warm around her waist.

“When the time comes, I look forward to building a future together.” she says. Tenzin lets out a slightly muffled laugh.

“You sound very certain.” He says.

“I am.” She says confidently.

They let go, sitting beside each other in the warm hues of the starting sunset. Pema laces their fingers together and leans into his side, looking out over the valley. Tenzin tips his head to lean his cheek to her soft hair.

The sun sets peacefully to give way to a bright moon, slowly, but surely as always waxing towards full.