"Knock twice once you're ready to come out," the guard had said.
His hand had been frozen in midair for more than a minute before he brought it against the door with a little more force than nessesary. Two loud knocks rang across the room.
He'd left the ring he'd bought her on the table. Before he'd even spoken, he knew she understood where he was getting at.
She had opened her mouth to speak, but had hesitated. From the way her brows furrowed, to the way her lips pressed against each other in an attempt to stop herself from biting them, he knew that she had already made up her mind but willed herself to stop, to change her decision. She did not.
On the table, he'd placed the ring, the simple band of platinum he'd bought from Varrick the week before. He'd explained himself clearly: his reasons why, his plans for their future. And when he finished, he slid the ring across the table, his eyes never leaving hers. He had no need to fall to one knee. "Marry me, Kuvira," he'd said.
His heart was still racing when he got up to leave—it was from something more than nervousness—it was that same spark that coursed through them both in the three years they led the Empire. It was the same high he knew she loved more than adrenaline, the same pull that to him was much like gravitation—they were two bodies that intrinsically wanted to be closer and even closer still, until he could feel her breath against his neck and her skin against his lips.
He loved her, still.
Baatar thought back to the early days of their campaign. Back then, they barely had five states in their command. They'd ventured north, into the provinces, and set up camp while the rails' construction was underway.
Around them, the wind howled. Above them, the sky was clear and cold, the stars and moon brighter than he had ever seen before. Kuvira led the way up the slope, her braid swinging behind her. "Living in Zaofu, I know you never got a good chance to appreciate the sky," she'd said as they left camp. "I thought you'd like to see this."
The two of them had walked through the hilly field, talking about anything that came to mind. He'd pointed out constellations he'd memorized from books, and she'd told him about her adventures in Suyin's guard.
She told him about the times she'd sneak out the domes to take a look at the night sky, and how even after years of being under Suyin she felt the ache of homesickness. He told her about the late nights he'd spent reading, about his childhood dream of furthering his studies in Republic City which never came to fruition.
She loved him then, and he knew that even now, as she sat in her stifling cell, she loved him still.
Baatar had left the ring on the center of the table, and yet he still felt it against his fingers, smooth and cold. He'd knocked twice, and now he could hear the guard's footsteps approaching.
The door opened and he stepped out, his heart pounding. Before it closed, he looked over his shoulder. Their eyes met. The spark was there, still there, the same electricity that coursed through them both ever since their childhood in Zaofu. He kept himself in check, kept his breathing steady.
"Thank you," he said at last, before turning to leave.
Now, he was gone, and Kuvira was alone.
She picked up the ring he'd left her, a simple band of platinum. She loved him, and he knew that. Baatar understood the reasons for her rejection. She knew it was the right thing to do.
Kuvira stifled a whimper before it turned into a sob.
She remembered the early days of their campaign, when the trains' tracks were still newly built. They were sitting on the grass, beneath the dome of the night sky. Far from camp, they had the freedom to laugh as loud as they wished, to tell each other the sweet nothings she didn't want the troops to overhear.
It was the night before they were set to depart for the northern provinces. Kuvira had already gotten up, and was beginning the slow walk back to camp. It was a new moon, and the stars were even clearer in the dark. Baatar trailed behind her, silent, as they always were on their way back.
"Thank you," he whispered suddenly, his eyes trained on her.
"For what?" she asked. "Showing you the stars?" Baatar shook his head. She raised an eyebrow. "Getting the Earth Kingdom back on track?"
He shook his head again. Taking a few steps forward, his hand found hers in the darkness, and instinctively her fingers intertwined with his. "Setting me free."
Author's Note:
This is actually my first story in years. I used to write bad fanfiction as a kid... Anyway.
I love Baavira, and angst.