Watching the master Airbender train had become the highlight of Pema's day-to-day life at the air temple.
At twenty years of age, Pema had made the lifetime commitment of becoming an air acolyte. She had given up meat, the majority of her possessions, and had limited her contact with her family dramatically. While most girls her age were out meeting men, dancing and tasting exciting new drinks, she was learning airbending forms and becoming more and more reliant on her morning meditation session.
It had been easier than she had thought it would be, truthfully. It had felt less like giving something up, and more like learning to be her true self, without all the superficial coverings. She didn't even particularly miss the taste of meat. Much.
Still, there were days when she felt particularly homesick; days when she felt an ache in her chest for the comforts of her childhood home in Ba Singe Se. On those days she found herself perched on a high deck on the back end of the temple, overlooking the training ground where the Master Airbender and leader of the air acolytes would practice his airbending.
In the early afternoons, Master Tenzin would teach the young air acolytes basic airbending forms. Though none of them would ever air bend, the forms kept their bodies healthy and strong, and their minds sharp. Pema furrowed her brow and clenched her jaw as she mimicked their graceful and beautiful movements. She found herself just a half step behind the others, preemptively correcting herself to match the forms. Her arms ached from being held in what she felt were unnatural positions. She kept her stances contained, trying not to draw attention to herself.
While shifting her weight through to a particularly troublesome stance, one that required her feet to be further apart than she felt was strictly necessary, Pema felt a warm hand on her back, correcting her posture.
"Close," Master Tenzin's deep voice told her. "Very close. Widen your stance. You'll be more stable."
Pema just barely resisted the urge to turn her head to look up at the master as she inched her feet further apart.
"Wider," he told her again.
She grimaced and inched her feet further still, til she felt the stance in her thighs. "It doesn't feel natural," she said, making a face.
"Well then I suppose you will have to practice until it does feel natural. Pema, was it?" Master Tenzin replied.
She glanced back at hearing her name on his lips, lifting her eyebrows. "That's right."
Master Tenzin fell easily into the stance next to her. "You see how I am stable, my centre of gravity low, but I still maintain a freedom of movement," he shifted into the next stance, the end of his cloak sweeping across the ground.
Pema's eyes moved over her teacher's body slowly and she swallowed hard. "I see…"
"May I?" Master Tenzin held out his hand to her. She nodded, and he moved behind her to take her wrists in his hands lightly. He adjusted her feet with his own, and moved her arms into the correct position. Pema felt her heart inexplicably go into overdrive, hearing it pound in her ears. His hands were warm on her wrists, and she felt the warmth drifting up her arms. Master Tenzin began to walk her through the movements, correcting her feet and posture along the way. Her eyes drifted to the arrow running up his arm as he swept her hand across into a new stance.
"You see?" he said, smiling as he released her. "Your body knows what to do, your brain just needs to stop getting in the way. There's no need to feel self-conscious."
Pema prayed her blush did not look as heated as it felt as she bowed to Master Tenzin. "Thank you, Master," she said.
"That will be all for today," he dismissed the acolytes with a bow. When he straightened to his impressive height, the acolytes began to file out of the pavilion, and Master Tenzin turned to walk toward the dock where Lin Beifong was waiting for him outside the ferry.
Pema loitered on the pavilion, unaware of the other acolytes disappearing to complete their daily chores. Lin was Master Tenzin's long time girlfriend; she was tall and stately, beautiful and deadly, a public figure and the daughter of Tenzin's father's childhood friend. They were a perfect match, at least on paper. Pema inexplicably felt a cold fist clutching her heart in her chest as she watched them board the ferry.
That night, as she laid in her bed unable to sleep, Pema about what she would be doing had she not come to Air Temple Island. Other girls her age were looking for the men they were to marry, thinking about having babies and starting a new step in their lives. She had never been much interested in men or babies; she had always been more interested in learning about the air acolytes and finding her own inner peace. However, suddenly the thought of finding a man to spend her life with did not seem so trivial.
She ran her hands through her long brown hair and let out a sigh. She felt girlish and foolish; like the hormonal drives she had so deftly managed to avoid during her teenaged years were suddenly making a come back in force. Her hormones were going into overdrive for her teacher. Going into overdrive for a man sixteen years her senior, and a man, most importantly, already involved with someone else.
She cursed her own fickleness as she rolled over. She had come to the Air Temple to pursue her own life and find her own path while assisting to rebuild a culture. She had not come to the air temple to find a man. She had definitely not come to steal a man. Her body was betraying her by pummeling her with these… urges. She promised herself she could meditate on it tomorrow and set herself straight again so she could sleep now.
But she hadn't slept, at least not much. The morning came and Pema dragged herself out of her bed and got ready while bleary eyed and miserable. She took her place in meditation and did her best to lose herself, determined to rid herself of girlish crushes and unwanted attraction and regain her focus on her goals. Instead she found herself thinking of arrowed hands drifting into inappropriate places.
She fumbled her way through airbending forms that afternoon, utterly distracted by the way Master Tenzin moved.
Later that week, Master Tenzin sat at her table. It wasn't out of the ordinary for him to take a seat with the newer acolytes. He took his job as patron of the island very seriously, and was known to familiarize himself with everyone who passed through the temple walls. Pema cursed her bad luck that he would sit at her table the day her body had decided to start sending her signals and she sent a silent prayer to the Spirits that she would not humiliate herself.
"So, Pema," he smiled at her and she lifted her eyes to meet his pale blue ones. She immediately wished she hadn't. She felt like those eyes could look straight through her. "Have you been practicing?"
"Of course, Master Tenzin," she returned his smile as naturally as she could manage. "I'm still as awkward and clumsy as a polar bear dog trying to do ballet, though."
He laughed and she melted on the inside at the sound. "Nonsense. All you need is time and practice. You're already graceful."
"Thank you, Master Tenzin." She tilted her head, surprised at the compliment.
It was shocking how easy he was to talk to. They fell into a conversation like old friends rather than like teacher and student. Pema took note of the way he animated his words, gesturing with his hands. She took deep pleasure in how easily his serious façade disappeared when she teased him for stroking that magnificent beard of his when he was thinking extra carefully about a question she had posed. She was appalled at herself for how easily she was able to take on a familiar tone her teacher and an airbending master, while still attempting to maintain the appropriate respectful distance.
The other acolytes at their table, mostly ignored, had left long ago by the time Pema and Master Tenzin finished their conversation; he had told her about his council business; she had talked about adjusting to life on Air Temple Island. It was mundane and could have been impersonal, but Pema hung on his every word and felt that he seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say.
After the meal had ended, and the plates had been long since cleared, Master Tenzin took a glance around the room, surprised to find it so empty. "I apologize for keeping you, Pema," he said, and she memorized the way his deep voice pronounced the syllables of her name. "I must be off. Duty calls."
Pema bowed respectfully. "Yes, Master Tenzin."
Her heart only sunk from its elated position on her walk back to her bedroom when she remembered the stately figure of Lin Beifong.
During the weeks that followed, Pema attempted to get herself back on track. She was here to learn, not to flirt like a schoolgirl. But no matter how hard she tried and no matter how long she meditated, she could not get Master Tenzin out of her mind. During meditation, she first tried clearing her head. When that didn't work, she tried to remind herself of all the things she had told her parents when she had convinced them to let her go to Air temple Island. She would be learning discipline and gaining knowledge in the lost arts and would be able to teach others. She could be a scholar or an artist with her training on the Island rather than ending up as somebody's housewife. The arguments would start to fade into the background and Master Tenzin's face would replace them.
During training, she relished every touch he offered when correcting her form and guiding her through difficult sections. At night, Pema dreamt about him. She dreamt about flying beside him like an airbender. She dreamt about his deep voice. She dreamt about tracing along his tattoos with her fingertips…
It didn't help that his presence at her table during dinner became a regular, and welcome, occurrence. She loved to listen to him instruct her on the principals of airbending, and she loved the face he made when she challenged him or surprised him with her own knowledge. Sometimes she stayed up late reading up on the things he had mentioned just so she could see him make that face. He started talking openly about his father – Avatar Aang, his training, even occasionally an anecdote about his childhood. Pema told him about her family back in Ba Singe Se. She told him how they had been skeptical about her decision and still wrote to her asking when she was coming home. She didn't tell him how her mother wrote asking when she was bringing home a husband.
"I am glad you came," he told her. "You're an excellent student. I am sure that, given time, your family will understand."
Pema started to think of him as simply Tenzin, though she forced herself to maintain the honorific when she spoke his name aloud. She began to think of him as her friend, rather than her teacher.
Occasionally, she would see him with Lin, walking together or sharing a meal on one of the quieter pavilions. On these occasions she could swear the two looked unhappy in each other's presence; Tenzin wore his brooding expression and Lin sat stiffly. She was sure it was her own selfish desire for Tenzin that made her see them this way.
"How is Lin?" Pema asked one day over dinner, unable to keep her curiosity to herself any longer.
Tenzin looked up, clearly startled by the question. "Lin? She's… she's good. She's going to be promoted soon. Chief of Police." He looked proud.
Pema nodded with a forced smile. "I heard rumors... I suppose you'll be proposing soon?" The question made her whole body ache, but she miraculously kept her composure.
She was not prepared for the pensive look he gave her as he mulled over the question. "How old are you, Pema?"
"Twenty one in a few weeks," she replied.
"Twenty one." He took a deep breath. She didn't recognize this expression, though she thought she had memorized all of them.
He stood suddenly, breaking their eye contact. "I'm sorry to cut our conversation short, Pema, but I have a lot of work to get done," he straightened out his clothing brusquely and raked his beard. "Good evening."
"Good evening, Master Tenzin," she bowed, confused, as he turned to leave.
Months ago, she had never given a thought to marriage or children. Tenzin had changed that; now she even had pictures in her heads of miniature versions of Tenzin rushing around on air scooters and smiling at her. It wasn't just that she was attracted to him, she decided. He stirred up something in her, something she had heard other girls talking about but had previously never felt herself. She found herself daydreaming about how to balance her own pursuits with having children. She found herself thinking that she could help restore the air nation's culture more by mothering new air benders… It had been much easier when she'd had very little interest in men. Her mother would be smirking at her if she could hear her thoughts right then.
Since their conversation about Lin, and since her misguided question about their potential engagement, Tenzin seemed to become far less accessible outside of lessons. He stopped taking dinner with her. Something must've given her away. Her feelings must have been visible on her face.
During training, she had smiled at him when his eyes had turned to her. Instead of smiling back he had turned away to help another student.
Pema threw herself into her studies and her work, trying her best to forget that he had ever shown her any attention, however innocent, to begin with. At night she buried her face in her pillow and wallowed. She tried to convince herself that it was for the best. After all, she hadn't come to the island to be somebody's girlfriend. More to the point, Tenzin already had a girlfriend.
Weeks since their last conversation, Pema found herself watching Tenzin walk across the pavilion to meet up with Lin while she trimmed the trees. He looked dreadfully serious and was stroking his beard. He looked as unhappy as she felt.
That night she dreamt of Tenzin's wedding to Lin Beifong. Her dream self watched them take their vows while screaming bloody murder. No one even paused to glance back at her.
She arrived early to training the following day; Tenzin was doing his own kata, a warm-up before the acolytes arrived. She followed every movement with her eyes, admiring his graceful forms. He was beautiful when he moved, and Pema felt a warmth move through her chest as she watched him. As he fell into his final stance, his eyes turned to meet hers and the whole world stopped for a moment.
"Tenzin," she said. "I think… I think I need to tell you something." She swallowed hard, her palms going clammy. That was not what she had intended to say. She hadn't intended to say anything.
"Yes Pema?" he asked softly, crossing the distance between them to stand a few short feet away. She longed to make the distance even shorter.
"I… just thought you should know about my feelings. For you," she dropped her eyes to her feet to avoid his probing gaze, but hoped her voice sounded confident. "Tenzin, I…"
"Pema," he cut me off gently.
"I know, you're with Lin Beifong," Pema smiled at her shoes to hide her embarrassment. "I just need to get it off my chest."
She watched his feet as he stepped closer to her, then felt a warm hand cup her cheek and lift her face til she had to meet his eyes again.
"I just thought you should know that I'm in love with you," she said very quietly.
He didn't look appalled or embarrassed. He got that expression on his face, the one she had seen during their last dinner together when she had asked him about Lin. The expression she couldn't quite place.
"Pema," he murmured. "I have some… I have some things I need to take care of." That was not what she had been expecting. "Will you wait, just a little while, for my answer?"
She smiled at him, though she wanted to scream at him to get it over with and reject her. "Of course, Tenzin," she said.
He hesitated a moment, a guilty expression crossing his features before he leaned down and briefly kissed her cheek. Pema turned the brightest colour of red she had ever been. "Thank you," he said. "I will speak with you again soon."
She returned to her room that night, confused and vaguely hopeful. Though she tried to quash those hopes unsuccessfully. She dreamt of those blue eyes and that soft kiss on her cheek. She could barely wait til morning.