Pale pools of moonlight were scattered about the forest floor, marking out an eerie grey trail through the twisted trunks. It was quiet, but for the hoarse whisperings of the leaves.
Fast, heavy footfalls became audible long before the pair could be seen. Their progress would have been invisible, had not two shadows momentarily passed though the thin white moon beams, creating a flickering effect rather like a reel of old film.
Suddenly, a breathy whistle cut through the air. An arrow landed with a heavy smack in the dead centre of one of the trees, missing one of the figures by the breadth of a hair. He paused, watching it quiver, before being dragged on into the darkness by his companion. Four arrows landed in succession exactly where he had stood barely a split second earlier.
They pressed forward, tearing though the trees. It was not long before the form of the latter began to sag, threatening collapse. His companion doubled back, looping herself under his arm, and they staggered onwards. Their foes were stealthy and quick, their steps light and expertly placed among the roots. They would halt only to cock another arrow to their bows, already running once again as the shaft took flight. They were gaining ground much faster than the pair could place between them.
The figures hesitated as a long gap in the trees materialized before them, flooded with white light. Their decision was made for them, however, when a further rain of arrows prompted them to forge ahead. They had taken no more than ten steps when one of the figures' legs gave way entirely. The other struggled in vain to support his weight, and both crumpled to the ground. Back on her feet in an instant, she jammed her hands under his armpits and dragged his dead weight across the leaves. Arrows began to fall faster and thicker, blocking each turn she made: left, right, straight ahead. Breathing heavily, she dropped her companion at her feet, whipping her head this way and that like the trapped animal she was. All around the clearing arrowheads glinted in the moonlight, like the eyes of hungry animals in the darkness of the woods.
"Don't!" shouted the girl in the centre of the clearing, her voice cracking under the tension. "I'm warning you!"
She took a deep breath, raising her arms before her ominously. Flashes of silver erupted all around her. She shrieked as the force of the impact threw her to the ground, her arms pinned down by a dozen arrows. She writhed violently, flailing her legs and twisting her body in a wild effort to free herself, but to no avail. Dark shapes began to emerge from the trees as the archers closed their circle. Snarling in frustration, she lashed out one of her legs towards her still unmoving companion. He was just out of her reach. She cursed loudly. "Aang!" she screamed. "Get up!"
Their attackers were very much upon them now: the whites of their eyes were clearly visible, though the bottom half of their faces were covered by a cloth. The girl continued to squirm, catching the shins of those who stepped too close. A few more arrows ensured she remained still. She lay there for a moment, out of breath. Yet, she refused to give up. Her body now immobilised, she snapped her head towards the miserable pile of yellow robes beside her. "Aang!" she yelled. The archers now turned their attention to the second figure, swarming about him like vultures upon a carcass. "Don't touch him!" They paid the waterbender no mind, and she began to struggle again with renewed vigour. "Wake up! Aang, wake up! Wake up! WAKE UP!" There was a panicked flurry of movement and twangs as all of the arrows were let loose at once. The girl stopped wriggling, pale with shock. "NO! Aang-!"
There was a tremendous eruption of fire, and the archers were thrown spinning into the air. The girl screwed her eyes shut, turning her head away. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest, faster and faster until she feared it would burst as the light evening breeze suddenly picked up to gale speed, tearing at her hair and clothes. The screams of the archers were small and weak under the roaring of the wind. She grimaced as another burst of heat seared her back, and the smell of burning hair filled the air. It was over in an instant, and the crunching footfalls of the fleeing archers fading into silence, leaving the forest empty and silent once again.
She remained very still for what seemed like hours, holding her breath, her entire body rigid as a plank of wood. Her head was still turned away, and her eyes still glued shut. After an age, her straining ears heard a soft groan. Her eyes fluttered open. The voice was familiar. Slowly, she turned to face her companion.
Staggering to his feet, the Avatar raised a shaking hand to his forehead. He stood in the centre of a large ring of ash, the ground beneath his feet smoking sulkily. All that remained of the arrows fired upon him were the silvery arrowheads, now cherry red. Surprisingly his robes remained untouched: even the wooden beads that hung heavy about his neck had survived the ordeal. As she watched, the tattoos on his hands and head faded from white to blue. He lowered his hand, staring blankly at his surroundings. For a moment he looked very confused, but then the boy's eyes fell upon the figure looking up at him from the ground a few metres away.
"Katara..." he croaked. She smiled grimly. He shivered, swaying on the spot. "Coming..." he said weakly, holding up his index finger. Katara drummed her fingers on the ground, waiting patiently. After a few moments, he wobbled forwards, sinking heavily to his knees onto the ground beside her. He then set to work pulling the arrows free of her sleeves. She watched his hands as they worked the arrows back and forth, easing them out of the ground. As he did so, she felt the constricting cloth loosen about her arms and legs. Her limbs tingled unpleasantly as the blood suddenly moved once more towards her fingers and toes. Katara eased herself into an upright sitting position when he had finished, rubbing her wrists to aid the flow of blood. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Aang's shoulders slump.
"C'mere, you," she murmured, helping him to his feet. "That was quite a blow you took back there." Frowning, Katara took Aang's chin in her hands, and tilted his head to the side. Sure enough a large, bloody lump was throbbing on the side of his skull. He winced as her fingers brushed the torn skin.
"Sorry," said Katara quickly, retracting her hand. He clutched her fingers, and pulled them back to his head.
"Don't be," The Avatar said thickly. Aang was taller than her now, and she had to stand on her toes to get a better look at the wound. He obligingly lowered his head to assist her, but instead a sudden wave of dizziness caused him to tip dangerously in her direction. "Easy!" Katara's hands whipped to his chest, pushing him back upright. Aang groaned again.
"Sorry..." he said weakly. Katara met his gaze for a long moment, before wrapping her arms about his shoulders in a fierce embrace.
"Don't be," she whispered into his ear. Aang smiled, winding his arms around her waist, burying his face into her hair. She pulled her head back after a moment and placed a soft kiss onto his cheek. He was glad it was dark, for he still blushed furiously. Four years onwards.
Katara fidgeted uncomfortably as his arms suddenly became very tight about her, and she felt him stiffen. "Aang? What's wrong?" He didn't need to answer, for smoke began to creep about their ankles, and an ominous orange glow lit the ground.
"Time to go," he muttered, grabbing her hand and setting off at a clumsy run out of the clearing. Katara glanced over her shoulder as they ducked and weaved through the branches, catching a glimpse of the large, dark shapes pouring into the dell behind them. She swallowed nervously, ducking once more under Aang's arm to pick up the pace. Loud, harsh shouts echoed through the woods, and the horrible creaking of trees being torn up by their roots prompted the pair to gain speed. They tripped over unseen roots, scraped their elbows on invisible trees, and long scratches from unnoticed branches appeared on their cheeks. Yet, it seemed that their pace was again in vain. The squealing trundle of the tanks seemed only just behind them, the angry archers but a few steps away from firing range.
Out of nowhere, a huge barrier of stone reared up before them. They stumbled to a stop. Katara glanced at Aang, who nodded wearily. She swung herself over the first ledge, only to find a bare wall without any visible footholds. She bit her lip anxiously, and looked back down at the boy on the ground. He was leaning against the rock, eyes closed.
"...This way! They're over here!" Katara felt a stab of panic, which only worsened as the arrows began to fly once more, clattering against the stone all around her. Katara raised her arms to shield herself, when she suddenly felt something warm loop itself around her waist, yanking her upwards. She gasped, shrinking against Aang's shoulder as the wedge of stone rumbled up the cliff side at a blinding pace, leaving the tanks and archers milling about amongst the trees far below, getting smaller and smaller...
But the speed of the little stone elevator was slowing. Aang was weakening. Katara's sleeve was wet with blood trickling from the gash on his head, and his breathing was short and ragged. She saw a sprinkle of glints from far below them. "Aang," she said slowly. "I think we're still in-" A hailstorm of arrows suddenly clattered deafeningly against the cliff, surrounding them in a cloud of shafts. Aang yelped, and the platform jerked to a stop as he sliced an arm through the air. The arrows reeled in midair, hurtling back down to earth. Then came the second wave. Katara felt something slam against her shoulder, and then everything went black.
When she came to, she wasn't entirely sure where she was. Her eyes were open, but it was pitch black. She was lying in someone's lap, and that someone's arms were wrapped tight about her. A loud roaring shook the ground, the noise bouncing off the walls. Her hands lay at her sides, against something cold and hard. Rock. It was then that she noticed the light dripping sounds echoing through the space, barely audible over the thunderous rumbling. She was in a cave. Katara made an attempt to sit up. The arms around her squeezed her gently, and a sharp stabbing pain in her shoulder caused her to whimper involuntarily.
"Shh." Katara swallowed, her mind slowly filling in the blanks. Before... The mountainside... The stone elevator... The tanks... A cave... A distant memory of a great battle drifted into her mind, many years ago. She jolted slightly. I am in a cave, and the tanks are looking for us on the mountainside. A chill ran down her spine at the thought of those gigantic metal claws, dragging the tanks up vertical slopes on a huge, clanking chain. The sound of the chain was like nails on a chalkboard: her teeth ground to hear it. They're looking for us... Us? She then remembered the arms about her. Aang. That at least was some comfort. Her shoulder smarted again, and she grimaced.
They lay there for hours in the dark, as the tanks rumbled up the mountainside in numerous sweeps. Perhaps it was day already, or perhaps day had already turned once again into night. Not a word was uttered between them, and they simply stared into nothingness, trying not to imagine what would happen if by some off chance that their hiding place was breached. They didn't eat, they didn't sleep.
All at once, the noises stopped. For a good time after that their silence continued, just in case. Aang, for the first time since the beginning of their little siege, felt himself relaxing, the tension slowly ebbing away. It felt very much like being deflated. An odd sensation, but altogether one that he enjoyed. The time had done some good to heal his head: it still throbbed something awful, but his vision had cleared and he had lost the sick feeling he had to his stomach. Katara stirred in his arms.
"Are they gone?" her voice was hoarse from lack of use. He swallowed, his throat painfully dry.
"I think so." Aang very nearly smiled at the alien rasp of his own voice.
"Good. Can you give us some light, please?" Aang carefully unwound one of his arms from Katara's form, invisible in the darkness. "Gradually," she added. The Avatar cupped his palm, and, ever so slowly, a little flame the size of a pigeon's egg flickered to life. They both winced at the sudden light, blinking furiously as their eyes adjusted. "Ugh!" Katara screwed her eyes shut, turning her face away from the flame. Aang continued to blink feverishly until finally he could see rather clearly, and he felt pleased with himself. His smugness was short lived, however: he glanced down at Katara, only to see half the shaft of an arrow protruding from a gory wound in her left shoulder. He inhaled sharply, his heart dropping like a stone. "Katara..." he muttered sadly, letting his fingers lightly brush her cheek.
"Right," she said wearily, jerkily sitting upright. Her eyes remained closed, and her face was pale. He watched her miserably as she adjusted herself so that she sat cross-legged opposite him.
"Katara..." She appeared not to have noticed it.
"If you've got a concussion then it could take a few minutes to heal properly, and I'd like to have another session later just to see if-" Aang caught her shaking fingers between his as she made to heal the lump on his head.
"Katara." She met his gaze, face blank. He sighed, swallowing the painful lump in his throat. Glancing at her shoulder, he was alarmed to see that the wound had begun to ooze blood into the already saturated material. When he wrenched his eyes from the horrible sight and back to Katara's face, she was staring at the injury impassively. She raised her eyes to his once again, and attempted to yank her fingers from his grip. Aang wasn't holding them firmly at all, but she was still too weak to free them.
"You first," she said heavily. Aang's heart broke in two.
"No," he said firmly. "Absolutely not." She glared at him, pulling at her fingers once again.
"You're the Avatar" she slurred.
"Yes, and I can look out for myself," he insisted. "I'm fine. Now can you-" Katara continued to yank at her fingers. "Katara, please!"
"No, you first!" She quite suddenly groaned, reeling fowards. Her forehead landed square in the middle of Aang's chest with a soft thud. Gently he grasped her other shoulder with his free hand. "...Fine." she grumbled.
"Thank you." He carefully laid her onto her back, trying to cause her as little pain as possible. Katara was silent, staring at the roof of the cave.
"Water, cloth, and... Something wooden, if you can find anything." He blinked, confused.
"Wood?"
"So I don't accidentally bite off my own tongue when you pull out the arrow."
"Oh." Aang peered earnestly about the cave. Cloth they had in plenty (he clumsily tore the cleanest piece of his own robe he could find), and water dripped from the ceiling into little blue pools upon the floor. However the chance of there being anything wooden in the cave was slim. The light from his little flame caught a suspiciously straight-edged shadow in its gaze. The other half of the arrow. How ironic. "Here," he said, passing her the shaft and settling beside her shoulder. Katara said nothing, instead jamming the rod between her teeth, chewing on it thoughtfully. She pulled it out again, and twisted her head towards him, smiling.
"Perfect." Aang didn't return the smile. "It's exactly the same as pulling those arrows out of my sleeves before. The only difference is it's more of an upwards twist than a side to side yanking." The Avatar nodded gravely. A tight wad of nerves had knotted itself in the pit of his stomach. "Don't worry about it, you'll do fine," she said to him, closing her eyes and refitting the wood into her mouth. He opened his mouth, but closed it again quickly, feeling extremely guilty. He should be comforting her, not the other way around. Aang felt a strong surge of emotion fill his chest, and his heart swelled with such an ardent love for Katara that it threatened to burst. He swooped down and pressed his lips firmly against her forehead. Katara smiled groggily. He drew back, taking a deep breath. Slowly, he wrapped his fingers about the shaft, feeling her twitch beneath him. The flame vanished from his palm, and the cave was thrown back into darkness.
"On three. One. Two-" Katara screamed.
When the flame reappeared in Aang's palm, he had her cradled in his arms. The halves of the arrows lay forgotten on the floor. She dug her fingers into his shoulder as she pressed her face into his chest, her body racked with shuddering sobs. Aang held her firm, his face white. He murmured words of comfort into her ear and showered her with kisses, willing her to stop hurting with every fibre of his being. He felt so utterly useless. All of the power of the universe at his disposal, but he was unable to help Katara in any way other than being there with her. He hated this. It was awful.
After a very long time Katara's breathing evened and slowed. Both of them refused to move, however, and when Katara muttered into Aang's robes he scooped her up and carried her to the little dripping pools of water rather than leave her where she lay. He stood patiently before the pool with Katara in arms while she gained strength, gently lowering her onto the floor only when she asked him to. He kneeled behind her head, waiting. The whole while Katara kept her glazed eyes locked onto those of her companion. She watched him pull a ball of water from the little blue puddles and boil the rags as she instructed. Her expression remained blank, even as he applied the cloth strips to the wound. Her nerves were on fire, and yet she remained very calm. He did this three times, and each time they said nothing.
Katara made the short journey to the pools alone twice, and in both instances Aang was unaware. When she had mustered enough strength heal herself properly, she carefully eased herself from his arms, and hobbled to the pool using the walls as support. She cast a glance back at Aang and smiled, vanishing into the darkness of the cave. The avatar snored softly, his back propped up against the wall. The little flame still burned merrily in his open palm on the floor. His ankles were bare, and the trim of his pants was ragged where he had torn off a good few feet of rags for boiling. He rolled over in his sleep, revealing the wound on the side of his head. It was gone.