The Wind in the Dark
by LizBee
Notes: So I'm doing NaNo for the first time since, oh, 2003. And because that plus my job plus the book I'm editing plus the convention I'm chairing aren't enough, I'm also writing fic as a procrastination tool. Specifically this fic, which is kind of a challenge for me, because it's been a really long time since I wrote something that was just about people kissing a lot and being confused by their feelings.
Anyway, NaNo writing is kind of solitary, so I'm posting this as a WiP because I need some kind of feedback or contact about my writing. (That is not to say people should feel any pressure to leave reviews or else I'll sulk.) I have the draft up to a good conclusion point now, so at some point soon it will be finished. And at a later point, it will be revised to have the roughness smoothed out. And stuff. It's a bit first drafty, I'm sorry, but FFN is a nice, low pressure environment for posting that sort of thing. Except for the ratings bit, because this one's gonna have a higher rating at some point. Oh well.
one
Eight months and three weeks after Pema died, the president of the United Republic visited Air Temple Island.
Lin had argued against it from the very first suggestion, but she was overruled - but she was expected, nevertheless, to accompany President Thuy. Fifty-six years old, with a forty-year career behind her, and she was a glorified bodyguard.
So she leaned against the wall, arms crossed, deliberately insubordinate as she watched Tenzin cut the president off mid-sentence.
"No," he said. "I'm not uprooting my family for months, to mediate a pointless argument about who owns which rocks."
"The natural resources," the president began.
"Are of no interest whatsoever to me." He put the briefing notes down and crossed his arms. Beside him, Jinora picked the folder up and began to leaf through it. "Anyone can mediate this. Judge Katal of the Northern Water Tribe is a fair man. Let him spend six months in the Fire Nation."
Thuy said, "We thought that an Air Nomad - particularly one with your experience - you can't spend the rest of your life on Air Temple Island."
Lin froze. Jinora's eyes widened.
Tenzin swallowed and said, "As a former United Republic councilman, do you really expect me to be impartial?"
"I'll go," said Jinora.
"What?" said Tenzin, as the president said, "You?"
"Why not?" Jinora closed the folder. "You can't say I'm too young - I'm older than Prince Zuko was when he became Fire Lord."
"By months," Tenzin muttered.
"And this is interesting. If," Jinora scowled up at the president, "seriously biased in favor of the United Republic." She looked at her father. "I can go, can't I? I was going to do some work in the Western Air Temple library - it's just a short flight from the Fire Nation."
"We'll talk about it," said Tenzin repressively. Jinora's shoulders slumped a little, but Tenzin's attention had returned to Thuy, attempting a polite smile. "You'll stay for dinner, Madame President? My sister's preparing fresh sea prunes."
The president blanched and made her excuses.
"I'll stay," said Lin. She caught Tenzin's eye, and he finally smiled.
They escorted the president back to the dock and watched the ferry set out for the mainland.
"That was cruel," said Lin. "Sea prunes? What's really on the menu?"
"Nothing, if I don't start cooking. Kya's on Kyoshi Island for the week." He touched Lin's arm. "It's good to see you, Lin."
"You, too." She leaned against the dock's railings, enjoying the breeze. The sun was setting in a blaze of orange and purple, and the air was full of the scent of flowers. Spring was a magical time on Air Temple Island. "Crass as she is, Thuy's right about one thing. We've missed you."
"'We'?"
Lin shrugged. "The Air Nation does its job well, but it needs its leader."
"I know. I just … can't bring myself to leave." He shrugged helplessly. "If I leave Republic City … when I come back, she'll still be gone."
It wasn't even an echo of jealousy that welled up in Lin, but the memory of it. An old wound she had nurtured long after it scarred over. She pushed it aside and said, "Would you like to talk about it?"
"I miss her. I miss the way she laughed at me when I took myself too seriously. The way she lost her temper. I miss hearing her out-talk Ikki." Tenzin folded his arms tightly across his chest, repelling any offer of sympathy. "If she had gotten fed up and left me, I'd miss her, but at least she'd be alive. Happy."
He had been at the North Pole when Pema collapsed, right into Lin's arms on a cold winter's day. She was representing the Air Nation at President Thuy's inauguration, and Lin had been struck by how frail she seemed. She was going to ask about it later. Then Pema passed out, and there was no need to ask, because the healers found it right away. A growth in her breast, already spread throughout her body, disturbing her chi.
Lin sent a telegram. Come home. She needs you. And she had hovered, awkwardly, on the family's periphery until the end, and afterwards. But Tenzin had barely mentioned Pema, until now.
"I miss being able to roll over in bed and find her there. It's … empty. Cold. I miss her softness in bed." With a rueful smile, he admitted, "When I can't sleep, I take my glider and fly over the city until I'm exhausted. It's the only time I leave Air Temple Island."
Lin shook her head.
"Are you going to make a joke about Air Nomads who can't stand to leave home?"
"Sounds like your siblings got there first." She hesitated. "I have trouble sleeping sometimes. I'll leave a light on. If you want to talk."
"Thank you." He took her hand and squeezed it. "It's … lonely at night."
Without meaning to, Lin said, "You miss the sex."
She froze, wondering if she'd gone too far, but his ears were turning red, and she burst out laughing.
"Lin!"
"We were together for twenty years. You have four children. We used to fuck all afternoon, and now you're blushing because-"
He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her.
Lin closed her eyes and kissed him back.
Sex had been joyless by the end, angry at best, mechanical the rest of the time. They used to fight for the pleasure of making up, but the arguments started following them into the bedroom. Worst of all were the times they realised they were breaking apart, and tried frantically to fix it, trying to summon tenderness in place of disdain. And yet she'd hated Pema for taking the one person she had left, and worse, for making him happy.
This kiss-
Tenzin's hands in her hair, on her neck, the parts of her body not hidden by armour. His lips on hers, his tongue touching her teeth. His beard was rough against her skin, but it was familiar, it was all familiar. And he was so gentle, she was reminded of their very first kiss, except this time there was no hesitation. She was flooded with memory and desire, and she wanted nothing more than to let go and drown in it.
She pushed him away and stepped back.
"I'm sorry," Tenzin said. "I don't know what came over me."
"I should go."
"Yes," he said. "It's - I can't - it's too soon."
She felt him watching her as she walked away, returning to the dock to wait for the last ferry back to the city. She didn't look back.
But she could still taste his kiss hours later, when she was home with a package of greasy dumplings and an unopened bottle of baiju. She ate in her courtyard, sitting on the ground, her feet bare.
She left a light on.