Archive of Our Own ^beta

Ghazan was shocked Ming-Hua agreed to go to a tiny island on the edge of the Fire Nation after what she went through. They had thought about what they should do for days in that shitty little town in the Earth Kingdom. The South Pole was out, for obvious reasons. The North Pole was repugnant to Ghazan, who didn’t like the weather. The Earth Kingdom held a lot of appeal, except they were well known here and if anyone was looking for them, it would be where they looked. They didn’t know if the White Lotus had ever found out their origins, but neither he or Ming-Hua wanted to find out. Her home in the Banyan swamp wasn’t an option because someone would recognize her.

That left the Fire Nation. Ming-Hua was the one to suggest it because Ghazan would never have been so foolish to suggest that she go back to where she had been tortured for so long. He tried being delicate for once in his life and steer them away from that, only for them to retort that if they lived on a remote enough island, he could lavabend without fear of discovery and they could waterbend to their heart's content.

Of their options, it seemed like the ideal choice.

So they decided to move to the Fire Nation.

——

Ming-Hua woke up, damp, in a significant amount of pain. They tried to move, and their muscles twinged with spasms. They remembered being knocked unconscious by the Avatar’s firebending friend, and their entire body was sore. The cavern was nearly pitch black, the crystals that had lit up the caverns all destroyed. There was a small beam of light and Ming-Hua groaned when they forced themself onto their feet and towards it. They called forward two tendrils to act as arms, trying to ignore the amount of effort it took. Even after being tortured near constantly for thirteen years, they hadn’t found it this difficult to bend. They ignored the ominous silence that felt like it was suffocating them. Ghazan was in the cavern with them when that brat had bent lightning at them, and they didn’t want to think about him being taken captive again. They were sure that he had done his best to avoid recapture, and they weren’t certain of her ability to get him out of another water prison. If the White Lotus had a single lightning bender wherever he ended up, they would be back in their volcano until the day they finally died, if the White Lotus didn’t do it first.

She hoped they killed her instead of taking her back to prison. Any goodwill she had earned after 13 years of being a model prisoner would be gone. She would be lucky to be given a spoonful of soup to bend into her mouth and would be degraded into being hand fed or made to eat from a bowl like a dog.

She would die before that happened. She would drown herself before she went back to prison. First she had to find out where in this rock hell hole was Ghazan, so she could kill him first. She stumbled a few times, forcing herself to stay upright as her legs threatened to collapse. She dragged herself up by her tendrils, getting closer to the cavern where they had imprisoned the Avatar.

On this level, the light was more pronounced, and not all the crystals destroyed. They looked around, trying to find any hint of the lavabender. He had to still be in the cave, or they were never going to get out. His fight with the earthbending brother appeared to have been more destructive than their own, as the mouth of the cavern had collapsed.

They used their water tendrils to raise themself, hoping that they would spot him behind a boulder. After ten minutes of searching they were beginning to tire, but knew stopping before finding him was an unacceptable course of action. They were panting with exertion. Between being electrocuted, climbing all over this spirits-cursed cavern, and having been an undetermined amount of time since the last time they had eaten, Ming-Hua was exhausted.

She tried to slow her breathing, hating herself for being so weak.

Ming-Hua heard a groan, barely audible over the noise that she was making. She swung her head towards the sound, a new wave of determination as she walked towards the noise.

“Ghazan? If you’re not here, I swear I will find you and kill you. How dare you leave me trapped in here.” they hissed into the gloom of the cave. They swept their eyes across the floor, desperately trying to find his oversized body.

She heard another groan, and finally, finally she found him. His foot was trapped under one of the boulders surrounding him, and his face was bloody. She rushed towards him, hoping that she could wake him up enough to get him to move the rock or that wasn’t too heavy and she could lift it herself. Ming-Hua knelt by his head, trying to see if he was wholly unconscious.

“Wake up.” she ordered. At the lack of response, she took one of her arms and slapped his cheek. Another groan and she saw his eyelids twitch.

They slapped him again.

“Stop.” he had the nerve to mumble. Ming-Hua considered holding back their snarl, but they needed Ghazan to wake up and get that damn rock off his foot so they didn’t die in here.

“Wake up, you lug. You got us into this mess and you’re going to get us out of it.” She shook his shoulder as rough as she dared, mindful of the fact that he likely had a concussion and probably a broken foot.

“Ming-Hua?” he squinted at her. She was relieved he was aware enough to recognize her, even in this dim light.

“Yes, it’s me. You couldn’t even kill us properly, you bastard, so you better get us out of here. At least move this rock off your foot so it doesn’t die.” As they talked to him, they could see him becoming more and more aware of his surroundings.

Ghazan glanced down at his foot, and thumped his head back. “Shit.”

“Yeah, shit. I can’t lift it, so you have to.” She ordered him.

He steeled himself, and hauled himself up so he was resting on his elbows. Ming-Hua waited to see if he needed more help to get into a position where he could move the rock, but he finally sat up without their help. They glanced at the rock, preparing themself to use the last of their strength to help him push it further.

He took a deep breath and pushed the rock off of his foot, and Ming-hua used her water to push it farther away from them once he had it in the air. The earthbender dropped it to the ground with a grunt.

Both of them were panting and they looked at each other. Ghazan looked horrible, face pale and hair knotted and disheveled. A few strands hung in front of his face, and she knew she couldn’t look much better. In the faint light of the crystals she could see crisscrossing lightning scars all over her chest.

“Do you know how to heal?” he asked them, knowing damn well they didn’t.

They glanced at his foot, then back at his face, hating the answer they had to give. “No.”

He blew one of the strands of hair that hung in front of his face. “You think you could learn?”

Ming-Hua bristled, “I don’t know exactly how easy you think it is, but healing isn’t something you can just figure out for yourself on a whim.”

“Isn’t it just thinking healing thoughts while you move some water around?” At her unimpressed look he continued, “Thought it was worth a shot.” He tried to move his foot and grimaced, “ I’m even offering to be a test subject, and I know you love trying out new techniques on me.”

She glared at his pathetic attempt at a joke.

“Well, I’m too exhausted now to do anything with healing, but we need to take off your shoe.” He looked at her, wary.

“Are you going to get it off?” he asked them.

“If you make one joke about this, I’ll end your life.” she warned him as she moved towards his injured appendage. She turned the tip of her arm into ice, hooked it into the opening at his ankle, and pulled.

He didn’t scream, but she knew it was a near thing. She wished it was possible for her to be more gentle, but she didn’t think that was going to be an option here. She didn’t have a knife that she could use to cut it off, but if it was left to fester, it might swell and cut off circulation.

When the shoe finally came off, he was panting with exertion, and he barely made any noise. “Fuck.” he hissed. Ming-Hua looked at him, and saw the involuntary tears in his eyes from his, they looked at it closely, likely broken, ankle. The tears quickly disappeared as he gently set his food back on the ground.

“Sorry.” It was the most they were willing to offer, all that they could offer, in as horrible as a situation they were in. They tossed his boot to the side. It was unsalvageable, their ice having ripped the already damaged leather.

She sidled back towards his torso and nudged him, wiggling her water arms. He hit his fist against the ground, creating a large bowl. She deposited the water there, so she wouldn’t have to go back to the underground reservoir.

She readjusted herself so she was leaning against him, reminiscent of the many times they shared a tent or sleeping bag. “Shut up and let me sleep. I’ll see if I can do something when I’m not dead on my feet, but your foot is going to have to last until then.”

He gritted his teeth and nodded, resting back against the hard ground. He was a better pillow than the ground, at least, and it was more comfortable than prison had been. They heard his breath evening out quickly, and soon found themself following suit.

----

She wished she hadn’t woken up. Her entire body was still sore and her head was pounding from exhaustion and malnutrition.

She called some of the water from the bowl and drank it, hoping that would cause her headache to subside enough that she could figure out how to heal Ghazan so he could get them out of there. She wasn’t big enough to carry him, and he needed to have a decent root in order to get them out of the mountain without it collapsing on them.

They sat up and looked at him. He looked just as terrible as he had the previous time they saw him, even when he was asleep, and they prayed to any spirits that were listening that he wouldn’t lose his foot. They created their arms again and hauled themself so they were leaning over his foot.

“If you kick me, I’ll remove your foot myself.” they muttered, pushing a blob of water onto his foot and ankle. They had no idea how to start healing, if it involved just willing him to get better or something different.

She took a deep breath and first moved her water arms like she had seen healers do in her youth, trying to think healing thoughts. The blob on his foot started to glow and just as suddenly it stopped, as her concentration broke. She scolded herself, and restarted, focusing her energy into healing thoughts.

She expected the glow this time, and she could feel the faint energy in his extremity. She zoned in on that energy, trying to will the water into sharing energy with his broken foot. She hadn’t focused so long on learning a new skill in years, and it was as exhausting as learning to bend had been in the first place.

A few minutes or many later, they couldn’t recall how long they had stared at his ugly misshapen foot, holding the glowing water around it. They swore the bruising wasn’t as dark, and his appendage looked less swollen. They pulled the water back and deposited it in the bowl, their head aching more fiercely than when they had started.

She looked at the water and grimaced with how dirty it was. She bent it out and stood to get more. Ming-Hua stumbled towards the hole she crawled out the previous day, and she could feel the water in the cavern below her. She willed as much of it as she could towards her, creating two solid tendrils, and she went back and deposited them in the bowl as a replacement. She would sleep some more and work on his foot again. Ghazan hadn’t complained about any other pain, so she hoped there wasn’t any internal bleeding he neglected to warn her about.

She knelt down next to him, laid her head on his chest and passed out again.

——

They woke up to him moving.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Ming-Hua asked, irritated at being woken up and at the idea he might have ruined her hard work.

“Did you do something to my ankle while I was sleeping?” Ghazan asked them, staring at it and slowly rotating his ankle.

“Yes. Does it feel better?” she sat up, looking at him, interested to see if her attempts had worked.

“Yeah. Thanks.” He looked back at her, a small smile on his face.

“That’s it? I learn a new type of bending and all you have to say is thanks?” she said, annoyed. “See if I ever do anything like this for you again.”

“Well, what do you want me to say? I know part of the reason you did it is so I can get us out of here.” he huffed.

“You are insufferable.” they growled, kneeling and creating their water arms once more, walking on their knees so they were closer to his foot. “Keep it still and shut up for once in your life. I need to concentrate on this.”

She was relieved when the water started glowing again, and focused as much as she could on healing energy. Her head throbbed, and after a few minutes, she felt herself losing focus. The water lost its halo, and Ming-Hua pulled back.

“Does it still hurt?” they asked. It needed to be healed or mostly healed, or the two of them were going to waste away in this crystal covered cavern.

He rotated his ankle again, this time much more smoothly. “It’s a little stiff.” Ghazan hoisted himself up and took a few tentative steps. “I can walk on it though.”

“It doesn’t matter if you can walk on it. Can you get us out of here? We’re going to have to leave in a different direction than those brats went — they might still be crawling outside looking for any survivors.” Wouldn’t that be their luck, that outside in the canyon guards were waiting to arrest them.

“I can bend,” He punched his fist to demonstrate, a rock jutting up nearby. “If we get somewhere and I can’t, we’ll rest, you’ll try healing my foot, and I’ll try again.”

Unable to come up with a better course of action, Ming-Hua nodded. “Did you watch and see which way they went, or were you too busy trying to end it?”

He glared at them. Ming-Hua wouldn’t have cared if he had actually succeeded at killing them both, especially when it looked like they were going to be taken captive once again. But now they both were alive and had to live with the consequences of their failed attempt to end the Avatar cycle and his failed attempt at ending it.

“I think they went out the main entrance. Towards the canyon.”

The other exit to this particular cave system would let them out in a village outside the city. It was at least a six hour hike on a good day. Ming-Hua and Ghazan had both mapped it in their twenties, and she thought she remembered how it went. After the damage he did, it might take longer. Or he could punch through the walls if they were close enough to the surface before the six hours were up.

They walked towards the other exit and Ghazan had to move some boulders that had made a home there. Ming-Hua’s heart pounded loud in their ears. A couple steadying breaths and they prepared themself for a long trek to the surface, away from their failure.

——-

Ming-Hua wanted to go back to the Northern Air Temple before they sailed to some remote island that was barely worthy of a name.

Healing the two of them after he collapsed the cave and then escaping from it had been difficult and had taken almost a week, as near as she could tell with how often the two of them slept and ate. Once that monumental task was completed, and their survival all but assured, Ming-Hua couldn’t help but think of their fallen friend, who they had unknowingly abandoned on the mountain. She would never have left P’li there, Avatar be damned, and more than that, P’li didn’t deserve having her body left to whatever carrion feeders lived near the temples, or being left to rot in the sun.

Ming-Hua wasn’t Zaheer. They didn’t have a great affinity for the spiritual world or much faith in the afterlife or whatever he said happened when you died. They certainly didn’t put much faith in spirits, even after seeing them float around the Earth Kingdom after their escape.

They didn’t care about the spirits, but that still didn’t mean P’li shouldn’t be given her last rites, which Zaheer certainly had not done. Ming-Hua knew they could give last rites anywhere, but if it was going to work, and so late past her actual death, the closer to the location the better.

Besides, P’li deserved to be buried. Or cremated if they could arrange it, but Ming-Hua found it unlikely. Ghazan could easily bend a hole in the ground that P’li could rest in. As if she would be doing much resting being dead.

Ghazan looked at her as though she had grown a second head and two arms when she mentioned wanting to go back to the temple. She could feel his protests coming and argued that he had made such a mess of the temple it was uninhabitable and the airbenders couldn’t have returned in such a short period of time. Besides, they were going to that blasted mountain, not the temple itself. Even if it was inhabited by a few nonbending acolytes, they wouldn’t notice two figures on the mountain side, surrounded by clouds.

He relented, and Ming-Hua kissed his cheek with a smirk. They would go acquire a car and get out of here.

——

Acquiring a car was easy enough, and within a week they were at the base of the mountain that the transfer of custody was supposed to take place. Ghazan looked at them and they grimaced. It would have been so much easier with an airship, but fat lot of good that would have done if they were recognized and hunted for it. Better to go on another arduous trek than have to hide from the White Lotus forever.

All that said and done, fuck Ming-Hua didn’t realize how difficult climbing a mountain would be, even a small one like this. Zaheer had chosen the peak for its name, she was certain. But he had also bored them all with legends about how monks would climb it using the path that had been painstakingly carved into it.

They found the beginning of the trail, and while it didn’t look too steep, it did look long and winding.

“I don’t suppose you could make this faster with a bit of bending?” Ming-Hua quipped, hoping he could just lift them up a couple hundred feet to save their energy.

He stomped his foot, the one that hadn’t been injured, and a platform holding them both formed. “You might want to sit for this.”

Ming-Hua raised an eyebrow and sank to the ground. He jolted forwards, and she was suddenly grateful for the suggestion, unwilling to just fall on her ass because he couldn’t do a smooth ride if he tried.

Each tree in their path was another rough bump, try as he did to avoid them, and Ming-Hua estimated they had moved seven hundred feet up before she hissed “Stop!”

Ghazan paused in his efforts. “What?”

Ming-Hua used their arm to point, “Does that look like smoke to you?”

A tiny plume of smoke rose above the tree line nearly a mile away. She continued, “Who do you think is up here?”

“Maybe lightning struck a tree and it’s burning.” Ghazan said dismissively.

Ming-Hua glared at him. “There’d be a lot more than one tiny plume of smoke if a tree was burning.” They stood. “Come on, let’s check it out.”

Ming-Hua knew what she wanted to believe. That through some miracle, P’li hadn’t perished that day.

They stepped off the platform he had created and walked towards the plume.

Ghazan followed them, hoisting the bag with their few supplies in it over his shoulder. Between the steep slope and constant terrain changes it took the better part of the day to get within a reasonable distance, but the sun was quickly fading.

He looked at them. “Should we go check it out now or wait until the morning?”

Ming-Hua frowned. They were not the planners of their group. Such decisions were always left to Zaheer, who had clearly lost it in prison if he was willing to throw his entire life away only to fail at ending the Avatar cycle. If they waited, whatever the cause of the smoke might be long gone, but the two of them were tired after a harrowing month and the thirteen years that preceded it.

“What do you think?” she asked, unwilling to unilaterally make a decision.

“I’d rather get it over with. Neither of us will sleep if we’re thinking about who or what is causing that smoke.” Ghazan suggested, glancing in the direction of the plume.

“Then let’s go. It can’t be more than thirty minutes away.” They trudged forward, climbing over particularly large rocks by grabbing tree limbs with their water arms and swinging over them, while Ghazan simply bent the rock out of his way, rolling his eyes at some of her more embellished maneuvers.

Ming-Hua tried to crush the hope that it was P’li, alive and well. If Zaheer had abandoned her, he must have assumed she was dead, and it was probably a bandit or other hermit who decided to make camp on the mountain. If it was her, it had been two weeks without medical care. She would hardly be well, if found alive.

When they were no further than a hundred feet from the plume, Ming-Hua grabbed their partner. “Wait here. I’m going to go through the trees to avoid detection.”

In the fading light, had she not known better, Ming-Hua would have said he looked concerned. Ming-Hua could hear a stream babbling nearby, and if she guessed correctly, the smoke was close enough she would have plenty of ammunition.

They jumped into the trees and silently swung from branch to branch. Fifty feet from the little fire that was in a clearing, next to the creek like they had assumed, a single person laid on the ground, face down.

The body didn’t move as she moved closer and closer, but when Ming-Hua was only twenty feet away, she recognized the torn and tattered red garments and the giant woman they belonged to.

They dropped out of the trees, and ran towards P’li, praying to any spirit that would listen that their dear friend was still alive. That they weren’t too late to help her.

“Ghazan! Come here!” Ming-Hua yelled, turning her head back towards where she left him behind. As she neared the combustion bender, she couldn’t see any breathing. She knelt next to P’li, who gave no indication that she was aware of the new presence.

“No, no, no, no. What did you do?” They muttered frantically, reaching for P’li’s shoulder to turn her over, to see if she was breathing, to wake her up. Ming-Hua took care to be gentle despite their panic, and one tendril cradling her head and another flipping her body, rolled the younger woman over to see her face.

Ming-Hua gasped looking at her friend, and involuntary tears pricked her eyes. If asked to recall the last time that Ming-Hua had cried, she wouldn’t have been able to say, only that it had been in the very early days of her prison, back when she thought the rest of them were dead.

Looking at her friend now, Ming-Hua felt like they were thirteen and suffering the loss of their brother all over again. Severe burns covered P’li’s face, centered around her forehead, but spanning to the tips of her cheeks and extending far into her hairline. The skin around her eyes was only mildly burned, and Ming-Hua was relieved that P’li had the potential to still see. Ming-Hua was grateful that P’li shaved half her hair already, minimizing the amount of contamination for the raw and tender skin, but what hair she had left was already creating what looked to be a nasty infection. Her cheeks, which were less burned than her brow, had various cuts, from what they didn’t know, and some of them were oozing puss.

Ming-Hua noticed the larger woman breathing and let out a careful sob, trying to collect themself so they could help P’li heal. They still weren’t much of a healer, but it would have to do. They would be an absolute expert by the time this was through if it killed them. P’li deserved nothing less.

The rumbling of earth followed by silence indicated Ghazan’s arrival, and she looked up to see him jogging towards her.

“I—“ Ming-Hua swallowed, embarrassed of the way their throat choked, “I don’t know where to start. She’s still breathing but there’s so much.”

Ghazan knelt opposite the waterbender and surveyed the damage on their friend. He breathed out slowly through his mouth, then reached out the back of his hand to touch P’li. Ming-Hua slapped it away, snarling “What do you think you’re doing? You’re filthy.”

He snatched his hand back, “I was going to check her fever, because that’s probably the first thing we need to deal with. Then the fact that her hair is burned into her skin. Try doing your healing thing on her face.” He jerked his chin towards P’li.

As distraught as she was, Ming-Hua didn’t think she could properly get into the right headspace to attempt to heal. She breathed deliberately, slowing the rate until it felt like something Zaheer would have to go into the Spirit World.

She tried thinking healing thoughts, that she wanted P’li to get better, to be whole once again. When her tendril touched the reddened skin, Ming-Hua could feel the inferno and infection raging beneath P’li’s skin. Her resolve strengthened, and the water began to glow.

Ming-Hua tried to focus their energy on the fever, and getting it to break. They had never heard of someone using their bending to heal so poorly that someone got sicker because of it, so they were reasonably certain that even with their lack of experience, they could only help. Even if they were unsure how to direct this energy into performing certain tasks first.

The water glowed even brighter. Ming-Hua furrowed her brow and didn’t look away.

Ghazan watched with rapt attention.

——

Between the two of them, and it was mostly Ming-Hua, they had reduced their friend’s fever enough that Ghazan was no longer worried that she would burst into flames. He set about creating shelter for them and collecting enough wood to keep their fire going. Ming-Hua hadn’t let their concentration slip for longer than a few seconds, and their new ability was already leaps and bounds better than when they healed his foot. Twinges of pain occasionally ran up his leg if he bent his appendage the wrong way, but he was certain it had mostly healed, and he tried to avoid any excess pressure in the interim.

He certainly wasn’t going to ask Ming-Hua to divert their attention from P’li at this stage. Severe burns, the likes of which he had only ever seen on survivors from the Hundred Year War or the victims of gang skirmishes in Republic City, covered the upper half of her head, melting and burning her hair to her skin. Other injuries covered the rest of her face.

He couldn’t imagine her using her third eye ever again, not with how distorted the skin was, and if her eyesight stayed the same, she would be lucky. He crafted a tent for P’li, and moved her into it when Ming-Hua pulled back her arm for a break.

“If you can go catch some fish, I’ll cook it so you can refuel yourself.” Ghazan offered, having seen a significant number of trout swimming around, but he knew it would be a waste of his energy to try and catch them when the water bender could do it almost effortlessly. Ming-Hua looked at P’li worriedly for another moment and nodded. She stood and walked towards the creek, dumping her arms which had taken on an unhealthy color after healing. Only a few minutes later, they returned, carrying 3 fish. They passed them off before returning to their companion.

He fed the fire that P’li had started and found a set of skewers and a knife in the bag he had packed. Part of him resented being so useless that all he could do was make dinner, and he worriedly watched his two friends. He didn’t see any noticeable change in P’li, except that maybe the inflamed skin was less red, but he wasn’t sure if that was just wishful thinking. Her expression was still blank, as though there were nothing for her to feel. It made him uneasy that she was so easily taken from a tall, powerful, prideful force of nature to someone who was on death’s door. The smell of fish wafted over all three fugitives, and Ming-Hua looked up from where she was kneeling next to P’li.

Judging the fish as cooked, he pulled it from where it sat above the fire and handed it off to Ming-Hua, “Hey, you need to keep up your strength.”

She weakly glared at him, but took a bite of fish. Only a small grimace at the taste then, “We need some sort of shelter for the night. I don’t know how she’s not dead and I think her fever is down enough I can stop for the night.”

He was harshly reminded of how Ming-Hua was barely two weeks out from being struck by lightning and the exhaustion that had clung to them since Ba Sing Se. For them to admit they couldn’t continue meant that they were barely awake. Their friend would need helps for days to come, to make sure she didn’t succumb to infection or dehydration.

Ghazan constructed earth tents for both of them. Both were the same size, big enough to fit two, and Ming-Hua looked at him, confused. “I didn’t know if you’d want to sleep alone or with P’li to check up on her. I’ll take watch and sleep later when you wake up.”

He was tired, but it would be the bare minimum if he kept watch over them while they rested since he was otherwise not much help. Ming-Hua nodded and crawled into the empty tent.

He cleaned up their campsite and discarded the fish parts she hadn’t eaten. When he came back, he heard her soft snores drifting out from the tent.

He juggled bits of lava between his hands, trying to create different rock types as he cooled and reheated it. The moon shone brightly over their campsite and he tried to push away the unease that filled him. No one knew they were alive. P’li had been assumed dead by everyone and he had done a good enough job to ensure that everyone would assume the same of him and Ming-Hua. No, no one would be looking for them.

——

Two more days of Ming-Hua running themself ragged, and P’li gave a sign of waking. After the end of the first day, her fever had disappeared and stayed gone, and both of them waited with baited breath to see if, when she would wake up. The waterbender looked exhausted at concentrating so much on a new bending form, and Ghazan tried to alleviate any burden he could from them. He maintained their campsite and scouted to ensure no one was around and collected firewood. He managed to catch a rabbit-mouse and they ate that instead of fish to give them as much of a break as he could. Ming-Hua was able to get an unconscious P’li to drink some water without drowning her with a delicate and meticulous application of bending. Most of her burns had healed, with loud, angry, pink skin taking its place. Her tattoo was obliterated, only the corner of the eye visible.

The waterbender had shaved P’li’s hair back from her face, leaving it patchy, but removing a source of infection. The cuts on her cheek and jaw were one of the first things Ming-Hua had been able to close, but they left behind raised lines that were unmistakably from an injury.

They were huddled around the fire the third night, eating charred rabbit-mouse from skewers when they heard a groan. Ming-Hua looked at him and both of them abandoned their food, suddenly invigorated despite the exhausting month they had had.

A wave of his hand and the earth tent around P’li melted back into the ground and they rushed to her side. Ming-Hua used her water arm to touch P’li’s face and immersed it in the bluish glow before withdrawing.

“I, I think she’s okay?” They furrowed their brow in concentration. “She doesn’t feel warm like she did a couple days ago.”

“Maybe she’s waking up.” Ghazan suggested, watching the two women intently, looking for any sign of consciousness from the taller one.

A frown married her unresponsive face, and P’li let out another quiet groan. Her eyes squeezed shut before trying to flutter open.

“P’li, can you hear me?” Ming-Hua said almost gently. The urgency in their voice gave it a little bite, but they were significantly nicer to P’li than they had been when trying to wake him up.

Her eyes blearily opened and Ming-Hua reached out with a tendril, brushing it gently across her cheek. P’li’s head tilted towards her, perhaps seeking the cool water.

“Min… ha?” P’li mumbled,

Ghazan didn’t think he was imagining it that Ming-Hua was watery eyed. He certainly was not unaffected by the relief that filled him. They had been so close to losing her after the realization that she wasn’t gone like Zaheer had said, hadn’t even bothered to check, and it was nearly overwhelming that they might not lose her after all.

“Yeah, it’s me. Can you drink a little water for me?” The tears he was sure he had not imagined had disappeared, and had been replaced with an earnest expression.

Ghazan felt like an outsider watching them, but couldn’t look away, needing to see that P’li would be fine. Ming-Hua offered her some water, and she drank.

——

It was another day before P’li was capable of actually holding a conversation, and a day after that before P’li could stand, even with assistance. Ghazan continued to search for supplies around their campsite while Ming-Hua played nurse. P’li had yet to see her reflection, and Ghazan knew it wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation. P’li had never been vain, per se, but she had always been meticulous with her appearance, ensuring there wasn’t a hair out of place and that she always looked professional.

He supposed that would not be difficult to achieve now, considering that she had no hair. The burn scars had mostly healed, leaving behind shiney, angry skin, but it would take some time for the hair to regrow, if it did at all on some parts of her head. Her tattoo, that she had always been proud of, barely existed anymore, the ink smudged where it hadn’t been entirely incinerated. Ghazan made himself scarce while the two of them washed P’li’s clothes, which were filthy from the three weeks of wear. He checked on their stolen vehicle every day to ensure it remained well hidden and tried to think of anything he could do to lessen the exhaustion that plagued Ming-Hua.

The bags under their eyes had only gotten larger and darker, and they fell asleep in an instant where before it had taken them some time to decompress. The lightning scars that decorated their skin had faded somewhat, but Ming-Hua had stopped giving them any attention at all once they had found P’li. Ghazan was concerned for both of them. He knew their new scars would require some salve to make sure the skin didn’t stretch and damage itself further, and there was no way for them to get such things without leaving this spirit cursed mountain.

P’li had only asked about their missing member once, and whatever she had felt about him being gone had been quickly overshadowed by the realization that she couldn’t cry. Ming-Hua devised some saline solution with the salt they had packed, but the firebender’s eyes were still dry.

When Ghazan broached the topic of leaving, P'li sat up and nodded. He wasn’t anticipating for either woman to walk down. He was more than capable of playing taxi, and it was the least he could do, having been useless for the last week.

“Have you all thought about how we’re going to get Zaheer out of wherever they put him?” She asked, once they had neared the car.

Ghazan glanced at Ming-Hua. They had discussed it, and they both knew that P’li would hate what they had agreed on. Ghazan had felt hesitant to voice his unwillingness to risk recapture to get out a man that valued his life not at all. Ming-Hua had no such compunctions, still feeling it like a slap to the face when he had told them with the apparent death of P’li, that he hadn’t even verified, he was no longer bound to the earth by “earthly tethers” or whatever other pretentious bullshit he had spouted at them. That their friendship of over twenty years meant so little to him that he was willing to throw them away just like that.

Part of Ghazan knew that Zaheer would rather rot in prison alone than risk their imprisonment again, especially P’li. Another part chastised him, knowing that he was making excuses for his chosen course of action.

“What?” P’li sounded confused, and stopped walking. They both turned to look at her.

Ghazan bit the bullet, “We’re not going to. You didn’t see him after he thought you died. He was different. He ignored us, and pretended you didn’t exist at all.”

“He was grieving!” she argued. Ghazan couldn’t lie and say that he wouldn’t move heaven and earth to break Ming-Hua out of another volcanic prison, but he had a significant advantage in a volcano and Ming-Hua would have been arrested trying to avenge him, not after pretending he had never existed at all. He was almost certain that she felt the same, but he never bothered to ask for fear that it wasn’t.

“Were we not all grieving?” Ming-Hua rasped. “You are my dearest friend, P’li, and I didn’t ignore your death and pretended like you didn’t matter.”

“Zaheer wouldn’t want us to go back to prison if we had the chance to be free and make a difference out here.” Ghazan added. “There are other Red Lotus members besides Aiwei who were communicating with him in the spirit world during our first stint, and he isn’t exactly restricted from going there.”

P’li looked at them both with wide eyes, “You just want to leave him?” Her mouth turned down into a severe frown, “He didn’t leave you in prison!”

“Because he still believed in our goal to stop the Avatar cycle and needed our help. You weren’t there, P’li. I don’t think it’s possible to end the cycle.” Ming-Hua interjected, voice hard.

“Princess Azula nearly managed it with Avatar Aang!” P’li argued.

“He hadn’t mastered every element! This is a fully realized Avatar that we’re dealing with.” Ming-Hua sounded certain, and Ghazan felt himself agreeing with them. Avatar cycle or not, if they were tasked with putting an actual child into the Avatar state and then ending the cycle, he didn’t think he or P’li would be able to go through with it. He had even felt bad doing such to a fully grown, realized Avatar, and it was why their original plan had been to kidnap her when she was five, so Harmonic Convergence would let the cycle end.

P’li’s eyes blazed, “If you two won’t help me free him, I will do it myself.”

“How? I doubt your combustion bending is accurate anymore, and your firebending was nothing to be especially proud of.” Ming-Hua snarled.

P’li looked confused and faltered, “What are you talking about?”

Ming-Hua turned away and stalked towards the car. P’li looked at Ghazan, requesting clarification. He balked at being the one to share the news with her. He had assumed, at some point in the last few days, P’li had seen her reflection in the stream. “Ghazan, what are they talking about?”

“I thought you had already seen it.” He winced.

“Seen what?” Ghazan didn’t say anything, but gestured for her to follow him towards the car. They slowly walked in silence, and he waved his hand at the window. Ming-Hua was on the other side, ignoring them like they hadn’t joined her. P’li stepped up to the car and immediately recoiled, hand clapping over her mouth in horror.

“What happened?” She breathed.

“You had an infection that had been going on for almost a week after you decided to blow your head up.” Ming-Hua responded, “I learned how to heal at all the week before we came back here.”

P’li looked at herself again, eyes as wide as they could go with the tightened skin around them. Her nose looked lumpy, and all that remained of her tattoo was the reddish tip of one tendril. Her hair was beginning to grow back sporadically, and only where the skin was not particularly inflamed, which covered almost her whole head. The raised scarring on her cheeks seemed insignificant in comparison. She gently touched each part of her face, trying to reconcile the fact what the new texture looked like.

Her breaths hitched, and it wasn’t long before she was hyperventilating. “I—I—”

Ghazan wasn’t certain if a hand on her shoulder would be helpful or not. If she had been capable of producing tears, he was certain she would have tracks streaming down her face. Ming-Hua’s anger appeared to have faded, and she looked at P’li with something akin to pity. At her continued heaving, he reached out a tentative hand, only for P’li to collapse to the ground. He sat next to her.

Ming-Hua rounded the car, kneeling to join both of them on the ground. They bumped a shoulder against P’li’s, trying to get her attention. P’li looked up, sniffling. They sounded subdued and much less angry than before when they said, “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more. I didn’t think you were going to live with how high your fever was.”

“It’s not your,” P’li hiccuped, “your fault.” Ming-Hua didn’t look satisfied with that absolution, but didn’t say anything.

They sat there for what felt like an eternity, until P’li calmed down. She wiped uselessly at her face— it was as dry as before she had seen her reflection. She looked away from both of them at the trees in the distance and frowned in concentration. He knew what she was trying to do and grimaced. A sudden gasp and P’li bent over, putting her face in her hands. Ming-Hua immediately formed a tendril and floated it towards P’li, wanting to soothe what she could. The firebender knocked aside the tendril and Ming-Hua looked insulted.

P’li threw out her hand, palm up, and took a deep, steadying breath. Smoke started unfurling from her palm and P’li curled her hand into a fist and shoved it into her lap, embarrassed. Even after thirteen years her bending hadn’t deteriorated this far. She didn’t look at either of them.

Ghazan didn’t know what to do about their friend’s sudden dour mood.

“Where did you plan to go?” P’li sounded disturbingly unaffected by the new revelations.

“You need eye drops and we both need burn cream.” the waterbender said, standing up. “Come on. If I remember right, there’s a safehouse a couple hours from here. Some shitty little cabin, but it’ll have a proper bed and some clothes, and some money for supplies. After that, maybe the Fire Nation.”

Ming-Hua walked around the car and hauled themself into the backseat. Ghazan helped P’li stand and she took the passenger seat. He drove.

——

The safe house had enough money stashed away that Ghazan was reasonably sure they could make it to the Fire Nation. He was also confident in his and Ming-Hua’s ability to steal money from the Earth Queen’s coffer’s if they needed to. Any extras they might collect they could give away to others on the street.

P’li had barely uttered a word on the drive there, instead staring out the window. Ming-Hua’s attempts at conversation were met with silence, unless it was a direct question, and even those were answered monosybilically.

He kept making eye contact with Ming-Hua through the rear view mirror, and they were getting increasingly close lipped to match, before being quiet and attempting to doze off. If anyone had earned extra rest, the petite waterbender had by taking a crash course in healing.

At the safe house, Ghazan moved their belongings in from the car and set about making a proper meal that he didn’t have to catch or gut himself. P’li watched, but didn’t say anything, drifting from room to room in the tiny shack. Ming-Hua had made a beeline for the bed and was continuing to recoup her strength.

P’li sat in one of the chairs and watched Ghazan fiddle with the pot on the burner. The safe house didn’t have running water, but there was a well outside that was easy enough to operate, and if any of them wanted to bathe, Ming-Hua could haul enough water up then.

“Did he attempt to check on me at all?”

Ghazan looked up from where he had been trying to open a bag of dehydrated vegetables. “Hmm?”

“Zaheer. Did he just write me off as gone, and didn’t even check?” P’li wasn’t looking at him directly, staring at his hands. Her voice turned hard, “Was I just convenient, and when I wasn’t anymore he would let them take me back into custody?”

Ghazan tried to stall by slicing the bag open, pouring it fastidiously into a bowl, and spoke slowly, trying to avoid upsetting her further, “Of course he loved you and you weren’t just convenient. I’ve seen very few things live after an attack from you, and he just assumed. If he thought for a second that you had survived, we’d all be having a very different conversation.”

“He wouldn’t want me anymore if he knew I looked like this.” She muttered bitterly.

“That is not true. Zaheer has never been that shallow.” Ghazan corrected sharply.

She looked at him fully, “What is with you? You want to leave him in prison, but now you’re defending him?”

“We don’t want to leave him in prison.” Ghazan defended himself and Ming-Hua. “Our goals don’t align anymore. Everyone in the world thinks we are dead, and we should use that to our advantage.”

“So he should be bound in chains while the rest of us live on some tropical island in paradise?” P’li sounded disgusted.

“For leaving us all for dead? If we broke him out, all that would happen is that we would go back on a foolish quest to eradicate the most powerful being besides the old spirits. Maybe including the old spirits.” He argued.

“I’m never going near a White Lotus facility again. I don’t care who’s in it.” The sleep-rough voice caused both of them to turn. Ming-Hua leaned against the doorframe. “I am never going to be that helpless again, or risk going back. I’ll kill myself first, and you too, if you want.”

Ghazan didn’t respond, and poured a cup of water over the dehydrated cubes. The handwritten instructions with the bag said to wait ten minutes and then drain. He looked at the orange and green pieces to see if there was noticeable change in the first thirty seconds, trying to avoid the tension in the room.

“You can go and try and rescue him yourself. I’ll drive you near, and then we’ll leave. We’re not blowing the best cover we’ve ever had on the slight chance we can get him out. Zaheer told us all there would be no more prisons for us, and I’m holding him to it.” They looked contemplative for a moment before continuing in a softer, more urgent tone, “I don’t think I am physically capable of rescuing anyone right now. My heart doesn’t beat right after that little bastard zapped me and just forming arms is hard enough.”

He whipped his head up in concern, glancing over them for any obvious signs of distress. They hadn’t mentioned not feeling well or that they were still injured beyond the lightning scars that covered their neck and chest. Maybe he should have guessed, considering their age and the severity of the attack, but they had not given any indicators of feeling less than their best.

A quick look at P’li showed her opening her mouth, only to close it a few seconds later. His vegetable cubes were getting properly moist again. P’li clenched her jaw.

“Fine.”

He knew there would be more discussions on it, and none of them were prone to backing down.

He drained the now rehydrated vegetables and dumped dry noodles into boiling water.

——

P’li wasn’t hungry, put off by the anger and guilt that rolled in her gut. She shoveled the noodles Ghazan had made into her mouth, barely tasting them as she chewed and swallowed.

How was she any better than Zaheer if she allowed him to stay in jail? Both her companions said that he left her behind without a second glance, that he had been almost unaffected by her death. He had discarded his feelings, their memories, like they were yesterday’s trash, leaving her behind instantly.

Despite Ghazan’s assertions to the contrary, P’li found it difficult to believe that Zaheer had cared for her the way she cared for him. How anyone could just leave behind someone they truly loved was beyond her, and it would take more than surface infatuation to want her now. When she had been kidnapped, she had never forgotten her family. When she had been imprisoned, she had never forgotten her friends. Even now her heart ached that he was alive and not here and Zaheer felt nothing of the sort. He dismissed almost two decades of a relationship in an instant, not even checking to make sure she was truly gone.

He hadn’t even attempted to retrieve her body when he thought her dead. Those wretched metalbenders had left her for the condor-ravens, and he would have let them.

At first she thought he had been captured at the same time she had been incapacitated, foolishly thinking he had maybe tried to save her. That the Avatar had escaped and he hadn’t was a slap to the face, when they could have all regrouped and tried again. If infection hadn’t raged for over a week, it was possible her bending wouldn’t have deteriorated as much as it did, and they would have still had a shot.

Now they had nothing. The Avatar was free, they were fugitives, and he was in prison.

She thanked Ghazan for the meal, washed her dishes and some of the ones he had cooked with, and prepared to sleep on the floor, suddenly exhausted with the weight of a rejection she hadn’t even been conscious to take. She unrolled the mat that would serve as a bed. The actual bed was made for two, and only if you were willing to squeeze. She was too large to comfortably fit on it with Ghazan and wouldn’t even suggest it, no matter how uncomfortable the floor was. The two of them would be able to fit as Ming-Hua was so much smaller than him.

Gathering the blanket around her, she knelt on the mat.

“What’re you doing?” P’li looked at him, confused at his question.

“Getting ready for bed? It’s been a long day.” She thought it was rather obvious why she would be kneeling on the floor.

“You and Ming-Hua can share the bed. You two are still recovering.” He frowned in consideration, “Unless you think you’ll sleep better on the floor.”

“You’re sure?” P’li was skeptical. It wasn’t like Ghazan to pass up the chance to sleep next to his girlfriend.

“Yeah. Go sleep somewhere comfortable. Yangchen knows you could use it.” He smiled at her. P’li hesitantly stood and walked towards the single room. Ming-Hua was already under the quilt, and P’li tried not to disturb them as she slid under the covers. There was a little jostling due to the lack of space, but they didn’t stir, even as the firebender slotted in bed behind them. P’li’s eyelids felt heavy as her head hit the pillow. Ming-Hua’s steadfast snores lulled her into unconsciousness as soon as she hit the pillow.

——

Hiding their identities was not easy. Beyond her height, now her scarred face caused people to stare at her in every village they traveled into. The stares were nothing new, but combined with Ming-Hua’s lack of arms and the heavily tattooed man they were far from inconspicuous, even two months after their supposed death. Ghazan had managed to arrange a boat to one of the outer Fire Nation islands, and from there they could travel to one of the smaller islands with fewer inhabitants.

The closer they got to the harbor, the less P’li found herself wanting to be surrounded by strangers for so long. The peach fuzz patchily growing on top her head didn’t hold a candle to what her hair used to be. She knew it was childish to be so self-conscious, she had mostly outgrown it in reference to her height, but her new scars, and the failure that it signified made her want to hide them. It was stupid. Ming-Hua didn’t care about the little zig zags of red that covered her neck and chest, and Ghazan had come out the least injured of all of them, with no obvious scars besides the increased paranoia, and a long sleeved, high collared shirt took care of it.

A few days from the harbor, they set up camp off the side of the road, unwilling to spend their limited funds on an inn. Ming-Hua surveyed their supplies and frowned. “We need to go into town and get some soap. And some food to last the next week.”

“I can stay here and get everything ready.” P’li offered, jumping at the opportunity to not be surrounded by strangers. Both Ming-Hua and Ghazan were more than capable of finding things by themselves. If she went, she wasn’t going to be any use besides a beacon to make people look at them and ask questions.

The waterbender looked at her for a moment, face unreadable, before nodding their head, “Ghazan, I need you to do the heavy lifting.”

A theatrical sigh and he finished unloading all the things from their vehicle before motioning for Ming-Hua to get back in. As they drove away, P’li started pitching the tent they had pilfered from the safe house and collecting firewood. In the month since they had left the mountainside, she had been able to produce sparks on command, and it was enough to light a fire. They had maybe an hour and a half before the other two returned, and she wanted everything to be set up properly.

——

“She’s hiding.” Ming-Hua said as soon as they left their companion behind. Ghazan preferred driving, and it was nice if she didn’t have to keep her arms formed the entire time they were traveling. Besides, Ghazan actually liked having to pay attention to the road, for whatever reason. It boggled her that he didn’t mind being behind the wheel for hours on end, even in silence.

“What? P’li has never wanted to come to town because her height is noticeable.” He defended, glancing at her for a few seconds before returning his eyes to the straight road in front of them. Ming-Hua frowned.

“This is different. When she does come into town, she used to…” Ming-Hua trailed off before restarting, “I can’t describe it, but she makes herself small now.”

He didn’t say anything for a few minutes and they let him think, observing the scenery that flashed by. The little houses that dotted the fields were cute, they supposed. They imagined that they would live in something similar on whatever island they settled on, and considered the idea of having a garden. It would be cheaper, and their funds were limited. It was harder to steal in the Fire Nation, which wasn’t struggling with order in the absence of a head of state. They also had no intentions of stealing from locals who were just struggling like everyone else.

“Do you think it’s the burn scars?” he finally asked.

They looked at him, about to retort Obviously. before seeing the contemplative look on his face and waited as he opened his mouth to speak once again.

“Or do you think it’s because of how this is the first time she’s really been without Zaheer?” Ghazan sounded thoughtful, and Ming-Hua considered this suggestion. By the time Ming-Hua had met their friends, P’li and Zaheer were inseparable, which made his behavior on the mountain even more unusual. Perhaps he had stopped loving her while they were in their respective prisons.

Ming-Hua dismissed the notion, recalling how enthusiastic he had been to reunite with her. He had anticipated seeing her the moment she was rescued, and the only reason he had broken Ming-Hua out first was because they were the only one who had a hope of getting P’li out of the North Pole.

Whether or not Zaheer loved her was irrelevant. Ming-Hua felt some guilt at their lack of a rescue attempt, but knew from the heavy way her chest strained that any attempt might end up with her gasping on the floor, taken back into custody and she blanched. P’li had only mentioned it a few more times before dropping the subject entirely, especially when her bending didn’t improve. She made a few more attempts to use her now missing tattoo or firebend, but always ended clutching her head or glaring at her hands.

Ghazan wasn’t much of a metalbender and looked too distinctive to properly infiltrate any White Lotus compound. No, rescuing him was out of the question, at least until they were all healed properly.

“I think it’s the scars.” They answered, finally. The way P’li ducked and turned away from crowds when she had never done so before cemented the cause for Ming-Hua. It reminded them of their childhood, when they had worn sleeves everywhere, ashamed of not looking like the others around them. P’li had done missions without Zaheer before, and Ming-Hua knew she was capable of functioning without him.

No, it was much more likely that P’li was uncomfortable with the new scarring. When they were younger, she had been proud of the way she looked, spending a ridiculous amount of time perfecting her appearance and ensuring there were no unruly stray hairs. Ming-Hua had never minded, P’li was right to be so proud of her appearance. The firebender was stunning in a way that so many women, Ming-Hua included, envied.

“Do you have a suggestion to help her? You’d think she’d be used to people staring at her.” He certainly had done his fair share of damage control when the wrong lowlife made a lewd comment at P’li and she had sent a fireblast in their general direction. They were always deserved, but it wasn’t like they needed her to get arrested every other day when someone leered at her legs.

Ming-Hua tried to keep their voice unaffected when responding, knowing Ghazan didn’t have a proper frame of reference with stares of a different kind. He preened under the attention his tattoos got him and appreciated the adoring looks that he garnered, “It’s different when the looks are because they think you’re lesser for something you can’t fix.”

His expression soured. He hated any mention that others might not be as accepting and supportive of her disability. She certainly didn’t think he needed to, as she was more than capable of fighting anyone who suggested she wasn’t as capable as the others just because of her lack of arms, and had done so repeatedly before their imprisonment. Even in prison, she was assisted with caution, having harmed multiple unsuspecting, ignorant guards with a well placed kick. But it was sweet, that he was so quick to defend her.

Ghazan tried to smooth out his face again as they neared the town, before looking lost in thought once again. “I think I have an idea to help.”

——

“I’m going to stay in our room.” They had managed to reserve a single room with one bed and a hammock of sorts on the ship to Yatura. P’li knew she would be shunted off towards the hammock, and resigned herself to being cramped for the upcoming week. She could always stretch when she was awake anyway.

“You can’t expect to stay in here for a week straight.” Ming-Hua argued as they landed on the bed. “What are you going to eat?”

“You can bring meals back here.” P’li reasoned. She didn’t want to sit exposed so easily, surrounded by her easily recognizable friends. It had been months since their escape, and no word on the radio had indicated that anyone thought they might have lived or to keep an eye out. Zaheer wasn’t mentioned once either, as forgotten by the public as he was by his friends.

“What about the sun? There’s no windows in here and you need exposure to stay healthy.”

P’li laughed, “I survived thirteen years without the sun, I’m sure I’ll be fine for a week.” They had provided a lamp that mimicked the sun, but barely had a fraction of the power. Exhaustion had weighed heavily on her until the guards pulled out the light, and even as rejuvenated as she could get, it was no comparison to the actual sun beating down on her.

The tiny waterbender glared, “You’re still healing and need to do whatever you can to keep your strength up. That includes standing in the sun or whatever firebenders do.”

P’li rolled her eyes. She didn’t want to admit that the disgusted, aborted looks from the other passengers would ruin her mood. She felt like worms were crawling all over her at their morbid fascination with her new scars. It was worse than when people felt compelled to make rude comments about her stature. She already didn’t like looking at herself in the mirror, reluctant to come to terms with her new face, let alone having strangers make similar judgements about her.

“I’ll be fine for a week.” She repeated, a small smile on her face at how they reminded her of an angry crocokitten.

Ming-Hua looked indignant before angrily asking, “Why won’t you leave the room? Don’t think we didn’t notice how you always volunteered to guard the campsite. You like talking to strangers.”

P’li’s smile and good humor disappeared instantly, replaced by a defensive frown. Ming-Hua was always direct, and she supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised at this. Both of them had been accommodating as she avoided ever going into town with them, claiming to guard their things or that she needed to meditate. There was no reason for them to press the issue now, months later.

“That’s none of your business, Ming-Hua.” P’li spat, voice hard. She didn’t want to argue about it, and desperately wanted them to drop the issue. It was childish and weak to be so affected by a few scars, even if they were on her face.

“It is my business when my friend won’t take care of themself and has an entire personality shift! We’re worried about you!” There they were with that ‘we’ again. Ming-Hua was seething, and P’li couldn’t recall the last time she had invoked so much ire. She had to wonder how often the two of them talked about her when she wasn’t around, and didn’t like the uneasy feeling.

“Drop it.” P’li turned away to rifle through one of the bags they had brought onboard, hoping that if she was done with the conversation, they would leave it alone. Ghazan was silent and when P’li looked at him, he was cleaning under his nails with a pocket knife, ignoring them.

“Is it him?” they demanded.

Thrown by the non sequitur, P’li responded instantly, “What? No.”

And it wasn’t. P’li had spent significant time on meditation, trying to recall everything she had ever heard Zaheer say about reaching the spirit world. She hoped she could find him there, see if he could explain why he did what he did and if he had any insight on how to get him out.

“Is it the scarring?”

P’li instantly stopped rifling through the bag next to her on the hammock and glared at them, “I don’t want to talk about this.”

She knew Ming-Hua had done a passable job for how inexperienced they were. P’li didn’t want them to think she was ungrateful or resentful that they saved her life. Ming-Hua said nothing for another minute merely gritting their teeth, and, hopeful that the conversation was finally over, P’li returned back to searching for anything that would prove a distraction.

“So it is the scarring.” They insisted.

P’li slammed her hands down in frustration. “Of course it’s the scars!” she yelled, unable to look at either of her companions, “No one wants to be deformed and ugly!”

She looked over once she had finished and saw the betrayed look on Ming-Hua’s face and her gut sank. She covered her mouth with her hands in horror. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

P’li had been on the receiving end of a rant about how people treated them many times in their youth, and knew how much it insulted and hurt her friend, no matter how often it happened. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Ghazan finally paying attention to their conversation, watching with a wary eye.

“No one ever ‘means it like that.’” Ming-Hua mocked, anger refueled from P’li’s earlier deflections. They stood and looked at anywhere but P’li.

“Ming-Hua—“ P’li called, standing up and reaching out towards the waterbender. Just as she almost reached them, Ming-Hua pulled away, fury obvious in the turn of her mouth.

“I’m surprised you’d want to be in the presence of someone so deformed and ugly.” they snarled. “I’m sorry I couldn’t keep your precious looks while you were a step from death with my newfound healing skills after you blew yourself up.”

The petite waterbender was breathing heavily after their outburst, and P’li’s eyes burned, trying to cry and failing miserably.

“I know you did your best.” P’li started.

“But that still wasn’t good enough for you?” Ming-Hua interrupted, scornful.

“I know you did your best, and I know I’m lucky to even be alive.” P’li repeated herself, voice thick. “I’m grateful, but for one second can you have some sympathy for waking up with your entire face gone? The only thing I had from my parents, our clan’s tattoo, is gone! My hair? Gone! My bending? Gone!”

Ming-Hua finally looked towards her, and P’li swallowed and continued, “I don’t like the disgust and pity. I don’t want it. Call me a coward if you want, but I’d rather just not go out at all.”

Their expression softened, enough that after almost a decade of Ming-Hua reading, P’li knew that if she wasn’t forgiven yet, she would be when they had enough time to cool off. Their voice was still hard, belying how furious they were, “Don’t you dare call yourself that in my earshot again.”

P’li didn’t say anything, and Ming-Hua appeared to take it as acquiesce and nodded. They turned away, unwilling to talk further, and jerked their head in Ghazan’s direction.

“If it’s just your face, I picked something up during our last stop that might help.” Ghazan offered. P’li brought her attention back to the lavabender. He stepped forward, reached into one of the bags and pulled out a square of cloth. “We can cover your face with this so no one can see them unless you want them to.”

“We can what?” P’li asked, confused.

He shook the cloth out and folded it into a triangle, “There’s a couple different ways to wear a headscarf that can cover your face.” He demonstrated on himself, neatly tucking the ends in until all that could be seen were his eyes. He unwrapped the cloth and offered it to her.

P’li took the scarf gingerly, unsure how to secure it around her head. She stared at it and tried to put it on her head, but withdrew when the loose ends didn’t tuck away easily.

“Here, I used to help my sister all the time when she broke her wrist.” Ghazan took back the scarf and slowly demonstrated each step to securing the scarf. When he was done he took a step back. “There. Does it feel secure enough?”

P’li shook her head, trying to dislodge the cloth from where he had tucked it in. When it stayed fastened, she nodded. “Yes. Thank you.”

He smiled at her, and P’li felt a burst of fondness for her two friends wash over her.

“Come on, we can go eat. If you loosen the right piece, it’ll uncover your mouth, and you can just put it back.”

Ming-Hua didn’t say anything as all three of them walked out the door. P’li knew that they just needed time, and that eventually they would move on from this perceived slight.

She just hoped it was sooner rather than later. Ming-Hua had always been able to hold a grudge.

——

Ming-Hua was over it by the time they settled on Turoyu, which was one stop after Yatura on a dingy fisherman’s boat. It was an island that none of them had ever heard of, and only had a couple hundred inhabitants despite the relatively large and lush land surrounding them. They found a dilapidated shack with just enough rooms to provide each of them with private space, and between the three of them they managed to fix it enough to be inhabitable.

It was hot and humid. Ming-Hua found themself drawing water from the well multiple times a day, freezing ice cubes so it was more of a refreshing treat. Their new home was on the outskirts of the village and the locals kept sneaking over to catch a glimpse of them. P’li hadn’t left the confines of her room without covering her face since Ghazan had taught her, and when she realized that even the area immediately surrounding the shack wasn’t free of prying eyes she continued to wear it.

Ming-Hua sported burned cheeks that P’li thought made her look adorable as they rubbed some of the burn salve they had onto the inflamed skin. When P’li offered one of the other scarves, the waterbender declined, citing that the sun improved her mood. Both of them worked to tidy up the house and keep things presentable while Ghazan formed infrastructure improvements like a clothesline and wash basin.

He also visited the village and acquired some gardening supplies from the others on the island. Over dinner of rice and some root vegetables, he told the villagers he encountered that Ming-Hua and Ghazan were a married couple, while P’li was his widowed sister-in-law, whose husband had died in a tragic accident. Their names all stayed as close to the original as they could, all of them reluctant to let the White Lotus steal even that from them.

The false identity left a bad taste in her mouth. Zaheer wasn't dead, and they had never been married. Early on she had suggested it, still high with the fantasy of being free, and been brushed aside with the excuse that the government had no right to interfere in their relationship and a written record would make it difficult to hide from the warlord. She had given in, and as their group continued to enact change she had been increasingly grateful that they had never gotten married.

She kept trying to meditate. Occasionally she could feel herself floating, but something always held her back when she thought she was close to finding the Spirit World. P’li confided in Ming-Hua when she thought the issue was that her body wasn’t safe, but even with the water bender guarding her, part of her resisted.

Perhaps she just wasn’t ready to see him, she reasoned. In time she would get there, and he would be freed.

——

No one bothered them at their house besides to spy, not until they had been there for a few months. The three of them were eating dinner, consisting of some tuber Ming-Hua had bartered for and some bird that Ghazan had managed to catch. Mid bite, there was a knock on the door.

All three of them stiffened and looked at the offending structure. Another knock, this one louder, echoed through the small abode. They glanced at their
companions, trying to guess if any of them knew what was going on, if they had been caught.

More pounding on the door and Ming-Hua stood up, wrenching it open. A woman stood on the other side, hand still poised for banging on their home.

“What?” Ming-Hua asked, irritation easily discernible in her voice. She didn’t appreciate being bothered at any time, but certainly not when in the middle of a meal. She knew it had been her idea to move to the Fire Nation, but each evening was a much needed respite from the heat and humidity.

The woman stared at their water arms for a few moments before saying, “I know you’re a waterbender.”

Nerves filled Ming-Hua’s stomach. They hadn’t done much to hide their abilities since it proved to be a significant hindrance on their day to day life, and the accusation made them wonder if they had been caught. Months after their supposed death, having been infamous criminals a decade before that, one of the reasons a rural island had appealed to them was because of the lack of news and the fact the inhabitants wouldn’t know who they were. Ghazan ensured that if he was messing with lava that he did it far away from the village and towards the leaky volcano on the island, and P’li wore the scarf more days than not, even as her hair grew longer, if still patchy.

“My nephew, he’s hurt.” She continued. “He and some of the other boys were playing and I think he landed wrong and,” her voice hitched, eyes watery, “Elder Toku said that you were a water bender, Ming, and that you could help. His leg is broken and he has a fever. We don’t have much— much money but I’m sure we can work out something.”

Ming-Hua turned towards the other two. P’li was resolutely looking away from the door, ostensibly to hide her face, and Ghazan was watching with rapt attention. “Ghansu, Pei-Ling,” their fake names felt awkward on her tongue, “You two can still set a leg, right?”

A silent nod from P’li, and a voiced affirmation from Ghazan. Ming-Hua turned back to the distressed woman in front of her, “We’ll be out in a moment.”

She shut the door on the stranger’s face. Walking towards the other two, Ming-Hua knew all three of them had equally bewildered looks on their faces. “Did you tell someone I could heal?” She hissed. The last thing she wanted was to be a resource to this village and for them to start prying.

“What? No!” Ghazan whispered back, affronted.

“Then how do they, nevermind.” Ming-Hua cut themself off, figuring they might think every waterbender could heal. They considered the ide that this was a trap, to get them out of their home and into unfamiliar territory, but dismissed it. The woman did have a boy that stayed around her house that Ming-Hua had seen on one of her forays into the town.

“Can you still make a splint?”

Ghazan had made one once for Zaheer’s arm in their twenties, but another Red Lotus member had actually done the healing, as Ming-Hua didn’t want to learn how and even if she did, she was on a solo mission. After working on Ghazan’s ankle, she was pretty sure she could heal or at least markedly improve a broken leg. After P’li she was very confident she could help the fever.

“I mean, probably.” He sounded uncertain, which wasn’t what she needed right now. The last thing they needed was to become pariah’s in their new home and need to move elsewhere.

“Good enough.” It would have to do. “Keep an eye out for anything suspicious, both of you, I’m not entirely sure this isn’t a trap.”

P’li was already standing, leaving their mostly eaten bowls on the counter. She nodded at Ming-Hua, and grabbed one of the scarves by the door, wrapping it around her face. Ming-Hua forced the glower off her face as she turned back to the door, hoping for at least a facsimile of positive gung ho expression. The distressed woman was still waiting and looked hopeful at the opened door.

“So where is this kid?” They asked.

“He’s at my husband’s sister’s house. You’ll be able to help him, right? The closest healer is a couple hours away, when the sea is good.” She reminded Ming-Hua of a mouse with her nervous looks. The three of them were never unfriendly in the village, even if they did keep to themselves most of the time, so there was no real reason to be so timid being around them. It set them on edge, like she was lying to them.

“We’ll do our best.” Ghazan assured her, projecting calm. Ming-Hua had never considered Ghazan to be the comforting type, but she thought that these strangers might, with his deeper voice and chill exterior.

The path they followed back towards the village was uneven, and Ming-Hua found herself tripping more than once over a too large stone that blocked the path.

Finally they made it to one of the houses on the outskirts. Their guide walked inside without hesitation, “She said she could help!”

Taunt as a bowstring, the three anarchists walked into the house. At the sight of a clearly miserable kid on a mat on the floor, Ming-Hua relaxed. The White Lotus wouldn’t have hurt a kid in order to capture them. Trusting that P’li and Ghazan were watching for any weird activity around them, Ming-Hua knelt next to the child. Using the water she already had for her arms, Ming-Hua lifted the blanket covering his legs. With the obstruction out of the way, the waterbender had to fight back a wince. The lower leg was clearly bent at the wrong angle, and no matter how much they worked on it, she knew there would be after effects.

“Ghansu, go make a splint.” She dreaded having to reset his leg and causing even more pain. She felt horribly out of her depth, having healed some burns and an ankle, which was a far cry from the awkwardly angled leg.

No one said anything until P’li asked, “So, what were you doing that you broke your leg this bad?” Her soft and melodic voice had always been soothing, and even with her face covered, her large kind eyes should have some effect. They were mostly unharmed by the burns, other than some discoloration, and Ming-Hua was hopeful that the kid would be distracted like she so often found herself.

“Riki said he could climb higher and I said Nuh uh because I know I can, so we climbed the tree by Old Jee’s house and I did climb higher than Riki so don’t let him tell you otherwise. But the branch broke.” His frighteningly perky attitude mellowed at the end of his story.

“You should be more careful, what if it wasn’t just your leg that had been broken?” P’li chided gently. Ming-Hua admired the restraint, since their first instinct was to mock the kid.

Ghazan entered the room, this time holding two thin rock boards and some rope they had from the house. Pursing their lips, Ming-Hua gestured for him to sit next to them. He sat the splints next to him while he kneeled. They turned to the other adults, “I don’t suppose you have any painkillers?”

Even something as simple as a coca leaf would make this marginally less miserable. At the other inhabitants worried glances she let out a slow stream of air. “Alright, kid, I’m not going to lie to you. This is going to hurt a lot. You can hold your mom or Pei-Ling’s hand or yell or whatever, but do not move your legs.” He nodded, a little fearful, and she continued, “Ghansu and I are going to set your leg, then splint it. Then I can work on actually healing the bones. That good enough?”

Another timid nod, his whole family was like mice, and she enveloped his leg in a watery glow, trying to determine where the bones were to reset them. She was fairly confident it was a clean break, unlike Ghazan’s smashed ankle. She looked up at him, and he gave a small shake of his head to let her know he was ready.

The two of them tried not to let the childish screams bother them, though Ming-Hua could tell Ghazan was getting agitated. They periodically checked to see if the bones had realigned, and after a few minutes of manipulation, Ming-Hua was mostly satisfied. It felt like a normal leg, but with swelling and a violent crack. The two of them made quick work of the splint and Ming-Hua started to judiciously apply glowing water to the break. They looked up from their work for a few moments to see P’li talking softly to her patient and he was looking at her with rapt attention, enamored with her just like so many others before him.

Another hour of off and on healing both his leg and head for fever and Ming-Hua slumped, exhausted. The swelling had gone down significantly, and a quick question at the kid indicated that the pain was tolerable, at least for the night. “You should keep ice on it to prevent any more swelling.” Assuming the refrigeration on the island was lackluster they offered, “If you get me a bucket or two of water I can make some ice for you to use.”

Both women hurried back with a pail each, clearly struggling under the weight. They set them down heavily on the wooden floor. Feeling the liquid inside, she carefully froze it so it fell into cubes instead of a solid chunk, to make it more easy to use.

“There’s nothing else I can do right now. If nothing goes wrong tomorrow, I can be here the day after next to do another session. Do not move or put weight on that leg.” They threatened, standing up.

The two women thanked her profusely, and the one that was the kid’s mother kept apologizing for not having any money to pay them with. Ming-Hua brushed off the apologies, paid or not she would have done it. What good was being part of an organization to enact change if you were reluctant to enact it on the lowest level, helping a neighbor?

The hike back to their house was quiet, and when they shut the door behind them Ming-Hua huffed out a laugh. “I can’t believe that worked.” They smirked at P’li, before saying in a sing-song voice, “It also looks like someone has a crush on Pei-Ling.”

P’li flushed bright red, “Knock it off. He’s seven.”

“It’s still a crush.” Ghazan told her, a small smile on his face. Normally the two women teamed up to tease him, and he was more than happy to return the favor, it seemed. “I definitely noticed him staring into your eyes with hearts in his, and how he only told you his best stories.”

P’li didn’t say anything and walked to her room. Ming-Hua didn’t think she imagined the firebender’s steps being lighter than normal.

——

A week after Ming-Hua told Ryu he could walk, P’li found herself with an audience nearly every time she walked outside. His mother was all too willing to give them food and help P’li plant their garden, but even after she stopped making appearances at their cottage, he still was like a shadow.

He incessantly asked questions, and P’li found herself more than willing to answer, despite her otherwise reluctance to interact with the locals. He even brought his friend Riki, and after the two of them spent so much time kicking rocks, P’li asked Ghazan to form two stools for them to rest their feet.

The boys had been coming around for days, and she had expected herself to become annoyed with them, but the feeling never came. They asked her questions that she often had to be vague or outright lie about. When they asked why she wore a headscarf all the time, she claimed that the sun irritated an injury on her face. While this wasn’t entirely a lie, only after covering her skin did she realize how much better it felt to be outside and not overheat quite so much, it was far from the main reason. Each time she considered forgoing the cloth wrapping, she was reminded of the fearful looks she had received in the Earth Kingdom and hated the idea of causing them again. Other villagers had burns, it was the Fire Nation, but only one of the elder’s had severe ones like her, and they weren’t on his face.

Ghazan also liked the kids enough not to mind when they were around and he wasn’t off performing odd jobs around the village, but Ming-Hua refused to stay in their presence longer than a few minutes, moving instead to the beach, where she ostensibly fished enough to keep them fed. Any extras she found herself selling for incredibly low prices at the market, if not just outright bartering them for spices, food staples, cloth, and whatever else they needed that week. The remote island they were on had little use for coins, and even when Ming-Hua healed someone the payment was typically dinner one night or a freshly killed picken. They never asked for compensation, despite how begrudging Ming-Hua was to be woken at all hours of the night for sickness. The resident healer from before had died some time before their arrival, and one day a crate full of books and references were brought to their home, including all the local plants that were useful and techniques common to non bending healers. The books sat almost entirely untouched in the corner of their living room, Ming-Hua unwilling to damage their valuable contents with her arms or use her feet to turn them.

They also spent time collecting sea salt, evaporating the water and leaving behind enough crystals that they could preserve foods. Ming-Hua was raised with a variety of survival skills, all relating to the water. P’li was grateful for their upbringing often before their island home, and near constantly since they’d arrived. If she ever voiced the feelings of gratefulness, they’d get uncomfortable and blush, and P’li stopped mentioning it.

P’li cooked most often, having more experience with Fire Nation cuisine than the other two, and with a more discerning palate. She also was the one who was home most often, and felt better about the fact she brought in no income when the garden was blooming and the others eagerly slurped whatever food she had prepared.

Over dinner, Ming-Hua would be nearly silent if P’li talked about her day and any other villagers who visited, going from a pleasant conversation to frigid almost instantly. The firebender stopped mentioning any interactions with the hope of avoiding whatever was provoking their ire. When she asked Ghazan if he knew the problem, he told her to talk to Ming-Hua, which she already knew she would have to do, even as much as she wanted to avoid it, and then winked, which P’li didn’t understand.

P’li missed the easy companionship they had, and was becoming frustrated each time Ming-Hua slipped away to be alone or hide with Ghazan. She certainly didn’t think too hard about how her head would rest perfectly on their head if they hugged, or how that one strand of hair always fell over her forehead, no matter how many times it was pinned back. No, P’li knew better than to let her thoughts stray towards dangerous territory.

——

Being jealous of a seven year old was a new low, even for Ming-Hua. The little boy who’s leg they had healed, Ryu, was enamored with P’li and the only one who seemed unaware was P’li herself. They left anytime the child visited, annoyed at how her attention was divided and not wanting to hear him ask about where their arms went or about the zigzags that crossed their throat in red, angry lines.

She thought she had gotten over it years ago, well before prison when P’li was with Zaheer and paid no mind to how the waterbender would blush and stammer, but the anger that filled her when P’li’s attention was diverted to a child or, even worse, the local adult population was enough to push her away from their home. Ming-Hua thought they had been stealthy about it, until Ghazan waited for her return, arms crossed. His derisive snort had angered her further, as did the fact he would ruin their post coital glow by encouraging her to hit on the firebender. He had known for over a decade the way both of them had worked their way into her heart, despite her reluctance, and never tried to shame them for having her affections divided.

Ming-Hua would not ruin a twenty year friendship over something so stupid as their feelings. They had managed thus far, and shouldn’t be flustered by the soft, new tufts of hair that curled around the tops of her ears or the way P’li smiled when telling them about her day. They had a vastly different temperament than Zaheer, and were short and thin where he was burly and tall. Even their face structure had no similarities, Ming-Hua being too pointy and sharp to Zaheer’s blockier features. Not to mention Ming-Hua had never noticed P’li looking at another woman the way she looked at Zaheer, and covered in pink lightning scars, with no arms and the other damages from prison meant that Ming-Hua was far from the ideal specimen. Their blemishes almost didn’t bother them, nearly a year after receiving the last of them, but each time they considered being vulnerable, they imagined P’li gently rebuffing their advances, any long buried insecurities and long forgotten jabs floated back into their mind, and while P’li would never say any of them out loud, she might think them, and that would arguably be worse.

They tried not to dwell on their feelings, and threw themself into whatever would take up time away from the house. Salt and fish could be bartered or sold in the market, and their healing meant that many of the locals felt like they owed them in some manner, bringing fruits from their gardens or a few coins when they had some to spare.

The healer’s old books mocked her. The font was too small to be comfortably read when turning pages with her feet without constant readjusting and the content inside was too valuable to risk damaging with water. She briefly tried using her nose to turn the pages, but could never get a decent grip on them, and nearly ripped the paper too many times to be comfortable with it. She asked Ghazan to turn the pages for her while she sat at the kitchen table, but his constant fidgeting distracted her enough that it wasn’t worth it. P’li was a better candidate, but with the increasingly obvious crush, Ming-Hua thought it was better not to sit next to her for hours.

——

Ghazan didn’t know how P’li was so dense not to see the state she had always put Ming-Hua in, or how Ming-Hua was so oblivious to the way P’li’s eyes followed them around the room and how P’li was touchy with them when she wasn’t with him.

Ming-Hua had been ashamed when they were in their twenties and the feelings started. Unwilling to admit them until Ghazan confronted them, Ming-Hua had apologized and made themself smaller, clearly bracing for a bad reaction.

He had done his best to alleviate her fears. P’li was undeniably beautiful, even if he never felt anything on the level Ming-Hua did, and he wouldn’t stop her if she wanted to do anything about it. He knew she loved him, just like he loved her, but there was no reason for him to monopolize her. P’li had been happy enough with Zaheer, so Ghazan had left it well enough alone after the initial conversation in their twenties, assuming that with enough time they’d both pull their heads out of their asses. After their time was stolen from them, he was tired of watching them dance around each other.

When P’li had asked him what was wrong, he had hoped for a few fleeting seconds that she had finally realized what was going on, until her overwhelming confusion crushed his hopes. Disappointed, he tried to be as hamfisted as he could without giving away the secret he had sworn to keep. If P’li asked Ming-Hua any of the questions she asked him, Ming-Hua would let something slip while flustered, just like she had done when they had gotten together so long ago.

He left the two of them alone as much as he could, hoping that at some point a conversation would start between them. On the beach, he was able to form basic glass, melting the sand before resolidifying it into a clear shard. He was sure that with a little practice, he could form glassware for their home.

Other times he walked into the trees surrounding the village, escaping into the confined wilderness. Most Fire Nation islands still had active volcanoes that seeped lava from them. It was refreshing to see lava that he had not created, but it meant that it had more inherent power behind it than his own did. Practicing with the flow from the volcano meant that his control was becoming stronger, and it let the back of his mind rest knowing he wouldn’t be suddenly overwhelmed in the face of a disaster. Everyone knew what happened to Avatar Roku, and if the Avatar state couldn’t stop a volcano, Ghazan had little hope in his own ability to do so.

As he hiked back to the house, he contrived more and more comedic ways of making the other two talk. As a last resort he would put them both in rock prisons up to their neck and leave them to it. Or he could seal the house with them inside, which would have a smaller chance of either of them trying to kill him in his sleep after he let them out.

——

“I wanted to try bending again.” P’li said over breakfast. They had no plans that day as far as she knew, and if she was going to try and expend her chi beyond creating smoke or sparks. She hadn’t tried doing much else after the migraine that had sprung up on the mountainside, afraid that if she did too much too soon, the pathways would become irreparably damaged.

She wasn’t eager for the burning sensation that would accompany the missing tattoo, but if she recalled correctly from her childhood, it paled in comparison to the rest of her face being burned. “I was hoping that you could join me, Ming-Hua.”

The waterbender looked up from where they had been half heartedly pushing around porridge with their spoon, lost in thought. “Why?” They sounded suspicious and P’li tried not to let it damper her mood.

“Last time it didn’t go well, and I didn’t think either of us had anything we really needed to do today.” P’li tried to sound excited to cover the nerves she was feeling. What if her combustion abilities were gone for good? What if her normal firebending couldn’t recover? She had spent months meditating when she had the time, often waking up at the crack of dawn to do so at the sunrise. She was leagues better at clearing her mind than she used to be and was hopeful that soon the Spirit World would be in her reach.

“Of course I can be there to make sure you don’t blow yourself up.” Ming-Hua reassured her, a smirk adorning her face at her own joke. “Where did you want to go to practice?”

“There’s a clearing about forty minutes from here. I think there’s a stream close by if you wanted to practice sparring yourself.” P’li suggested. Riki had mentioned it and taken her there one time, trying to impress her she was sure. It was deserted most of the time, and the boy had told her he didn’t go often because of how far it was. A deserted place miles from the rest of the island’s inhabitants was a requirement if she was going to try and blow up anything, even if it was just a twig twenty feet away.

Ming-Hua nodded in agreement, and they decided to go immediately after breakfast. Forty minutes there, plus a decent amount of time devoted to bending and then forty minutes back, they would be good to get back before mid afternoon. Ghazan told them both to have fun, with a pointed look at Ming-Hua, who sent an ice spear flying towards him. He blocked her attack with a wave of his hand, shaking his head.

The hike there was mostly silent. P’li found it easy to just step over the fallen trees and rocks that blocked the path, while Ming-Hua eyed them with distaste and used an overhead branch to swing over them where available, or throwing herself over them when it wasn’t. P’li found herself constantly glancing back at Ming-Hua. She knew the smaller woman wouldn’t abandon her in the middle of the woods, even with how annoyed she had been for the past month.

P’li knew that was part of the reason she wanted to invite Ming-Hua. Ghazan was right, as much as it pained her to say it, and they did need to talk. The periodic cold shoulder was frustrating to no end, and she wanted answers. As they neared the clearing, P’li started to look around more for any evidence the two of them weren’t alone. Her bending style was too unique and too taboo to want any prying eyes watching her, and if Ming-Hua was going to let go, she didn’t appreciate an audience either.

On arrival, a quick scan revealed no one, and P’li unwrapped the scarf from around her head. It was damp with sweat, which was yet another reason P’li liked to wear them all the time. She hung the limp cloth on a tree branch, along with the supplies she brought for lunch, and started stretching. A glance at Ming-Hua revealed a small smile, but they quickly looked away when she made eye contact. Frowning, P’li turned back to relaxing her muscles, making sure she was limber enough for basic firebending moves.

She took a deep breath and slowly went through the first form she had ever learned, and at the very end kept it cold. It had been so long since she had executed the maneuver that she was unsure if it would still feel like a second nature. When she didn’t stumble or misstep, she tried again, and at the fluid motion her spirits lifted. On the third try, she followed through with it entirely, and at the very end a small flame puffed out before rapidly extinguishing itself.

“Did you see that?” P’li turned to her friend sitting in the tree excitedly, some of her fears evaporating.

“Not bad for someone a year out of practice.” They quipped. P’li rolled her eyes at their teasing. Ming-Hua had tried to encourage her to do this for weeks, and each time P’li knew they were right to push the issue.

“Shut up.” She responded good naturedly, turning and beginning another form. Sweat pooled down her back and patchily across her face from the areas that weren’t too damaged as she advanced, larger and larger bursts of fire erupting from her palm at once.

Ming-Hua kept guard from their perch, occasionally heckling P’li for not keeping her back straight or her feet turned inwards, and P’li had to wonder why Ming-Hua was so familiar with her forms, since it wasn’t like she had gone through them all that often before prison, and certainly never had the time after.

P’li kept at it for hours, and as the sun grew higher in the sky she felt herself becoming more and more invigorated. The hesitance she felt at the beginning of the day disappeared, replaced with determination. She still wasn’t sure if combustionbending was still an option, and knew she was being cowardly for being unwilling to try.

“Not that I don’t like watching you stumble and fall on your ass,” Ming-Hua called out. P’li curled her lip in distaste, that had only happened once, “But some of us are getting hungry watching you burn all that energy.”

Glancing at the sky, P’li realized it was well past midday and nearing mid afternoon. She felt a bit sheepish as she agreed to stop for a break. Ming-Hua jumped to the ground from their perch, a tendril neatly grabbing the bag P’li had hung up earlier. The two of them made quick work of the small blanket they had brought and set up the picnic.

They nibbled on the vegetable rolls they had prepared, silently listening to the sound of the birds and breeze around them. P’li finished first, having realized how hungry she was after practicing all morning. She laid down on her side, looking at her companion. Shadows from the surrounding trees softened the harsh lines of Ming-Hua’s face, and P’li was enraptured. The sunlight made her hair look shiny, and their tunic gracefully bunched up where they were sitting.

“What did you do all day while I went through forms?” She asked. It had to have been boring just sitting there, and P’li would have noticed if Ming-Hua had left the clearing.

Ming-Hua swallowed their bite of food, “Thinking. Watched you for most of it. You looked happy.” They shrugged before taking another bite.

“Oh, you spent your time watching me, huh?” P’li teased. An extra lilt in her tone, she added, “Did you see anything you liked?”

P’li was surprised by her own words. It had been so long since she got to tease anyone like that, and especially didn’t see the point after everything had gone so wrong. She watched Ming-Hua’s expression sour for a brief moment before smoothing out, and wondered where she had misspoke. They looked away and didn’t answer.

Tentatively, P’li reached out a hand and set it on Ming-Hua’s shin. When they didn’t pull away, she tried to keep the hurt from the past month from her voice, “Hey, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Ming-Hua was silent for a moment before shaking her head. She looked back at P’li, “You didn't, you didn’t make me uncomfortable.”

P’li withdrew her hand and readjusted herself so she laid on her side, elbow propped. She stared at her friend, “I know the past month has been,” P’li paused trying to sound less accusatory, knowing Ming-Hua would react poorly, “Difficult. But you’re my best friend, and if something’s upsetting you, I want to know what I can do to help.”

She hoped her earnest tone made Ming-Hua at least consider the idea of opening up to her. She was an intensely private person, and usually the only ones who had the privilege of knowing her thoughts were Ghazan and P’li; Zaheer had never been included. Nor had Unalaq when he stayed part of their group.

“I wish you wouldn’t.” Ming-Hua muttered, looking at her knees. She raised her voice, “There’s nothing you can do, so stop worrying.”

“I asked Ghazan what was wrong.”

Ming-Hua whipped their head around, “What did that traitor say?”

“He told me to talk to you. So here we are. Talking.” P’li sat up and crossed her legs. She leaned forward. “I can’t fix this if I don’t know what’s wrong. Clearly it’s something to do with me.”

“I’m not angry with you or whatever other harebrained ideas are going through your head. Tell Ghazan to mind his own business.” Ming-Hua reassured her, albeit a little sharply.

“I didn’t say you were angry.” P’li corrected.”I just want to know what I can do to stop making you stomp down to the beach and terrorize the turtle-crabs.”

Ming-Hua laid down abruptly, huffing. She set aside what remained of her lunch. “Will you just let this go? I promise not to go ‘terrorize the turtle-crabs’ or whatever it is you think I do on the beach.”

P’li reached out to touch Ming-Hua and when the tips of her fingers grazed their shoulder, the violent recoil caused P’li to snatch her hand back.

“Is this about what I said that first night on the boat?” She thought in the many months since, they had moved past that outburst borne of fear and childishness. It was the only time she could recall in recent memory that she had truly upset Ming-Hua, and despite thinking they had moved past it, clearly something was still wrong. “I wasn’t, I would never intentionally insult you, not like that. You’re stunning and I—“

“Would you just shut up?” The concern she’d tried to curtail the entire conversation flared again at the way Ming-Hua's voice cracked. “You make this so… ugh.” Their voice trailed off in disgust.

P’li didn’t say anything. Each time she tried to initiate the conversation, it went worse than before. Unable to just sit still, P’li crossed her legs and played with the blanket they were sitting on. She hoped that Ming-Hua would be more willing to talk if P’li stopped interrupting her. A few furtive glances revealed the waterbender opening her mouth to say something, only to close it silently. P’li watched her hands twist in the blanket to avoid staring. She wished Ming-Hua would just come out and say what was bothering her.

“Ghazan knows, before your underwear gets in a twist. He’s been trying to get me to say something for years.” She started after a long silence. P’li looked at her with wide eyes. Years? Had P’li insulted her so often that this resentment had built up for years? P’li said nothing, hoping Ming-Hua would continue unprompted.

After a few false starts, Ming-Hua took a deep breath and did, “You and Ghazan are my best friends. I value that friendship more than anything.” She looked at P’li intently, “I mean it. You are my dearest friend.”

They didn’t say anything else and P’li couldn’t stop herself, “You’re my best friend too.”

At Ming-Hua’s glare, she quieted. “I’m not, I’m not expecting anything. From you. With this,” Her nose wrinkled, “Confession, I guess.” She looked at P’li intently, and P’li nodded in agreement.

“I like you.”

P’li stared. Surely Ming-Hua didn’t mean it like that. P’li wasn’t that oblivious for, apparently, years, and certainly would have noticed if her best friend liked her. Ming-Hua kept her cards close to her chest, but P’li was the first one to notice the tension between her and Ghazan. P’li had noticed Zaheer’s gentle looks in her direction after she’d been part of their group for a year. P’li wouldn’t have missed Ming-Hua doing anything similar.

She wouldn’t have missed it. She had to be misinterpreting what Ming-Hua was telling her. They must have meant that they were feeling neglected, that P’li hadn’t been a good friend lately but Ming-Hua still liked her anyway. There was no way P’li had missed out on this much time. Ming-Hua looked so miserable and P’li was overwhelmed with the urge to soothe the unhappiness on their face. When she had been with Zaheer it was easier to ignore the feelings, but that didn’t stop P’li from noticing Ming-Hua whenever they walked into a room or spoke. From wanting to be the one to tuck their hair behind their ears or be the one Ming-Hua fell asleep on.

“I don’t… Like a friend?” P’li had to clarify, wouldn’t be able to handle this if she was misinterpreting.

“And more.” she responded, pained. “Like I said, I’m not expecting anything from you. I just. I don’t want you to think my mood is your fault. It isn’t. I’ll get over it.” A small, strained smile broke out on her face. Ming-Hua said this had been going on for years. P’li doubted that she’d get over it. P’li wanted to hit herself for being so oblivious.

“What if I don’t want you to get over it?” Ming-Hua looked at her suspiciously. P’li felt her cheeks heat up as she continued, “I like you too.”

Feeling emboldened, P’li moved so she was kneeling next to Ming-Hua and gently touched the pink tendrils from the lightning that that brat had hit her with. Ming-Hua froze and glanced up at P’li. She looked down at the waterbender as her fingers trailed along the scars up her neck, along her jaw, before stopping and cupping her cheek.

She leaned in, giving Ming-Hua plenty of time to withdraw or push her away. The water arms stayed attached to the ground as Ming-Hua pushed themself upward, closing the distance between them. P’li’s hands wandered towards their hair, easily becoming tangled in the thick tresses.

They pulled away from each other, both out of breath. Ming-Hua smiled at P’li, who couldn’t help but respond in kind. The piece of hair that always sat in front of her face fell forward, obscuring her view, and now that she could, P’li delicately tucked the strand behind the other woman’s ear.

They let out a sigh, mouth quirking into what could be a grimace except for the shadow of a smile that remained. “Ghazan is going to be insufferable about this. He’s been trying to convince me to do this for so long.”

P’li had questions, but looking at her companion, pushed them aside for later. They could work out whatever this was later, after P’li had her fill. She leaned forward to kiss Ming-Hua again.

They had a long while before Ghazan was expecting them back, she was sure.