A glance-over of a life, and a love.
The days moved by with dull mutiny. Each bitingly cold, with winds that differed according to nothing. Wind was the only thing that mattered. Either it could subside, providing a welcome respite from the suffering it caused, or it could pick up, forcing them all inside.
Chores were the focal point of her life. The only thing she did. It was all she could do, anyway. There was no one to teach her.
They'd known she was a Waterbender from when she was very small – when she would get upset the ice would naturally respond to her. There was no startling moment of revelation, only a sadness. Although no one told her, she was about to become the only reason to target the Southern Water Tribe.
As they grew her brother became more adept with fighting and learning from their father. She was trained to cook and keep house from her mother.
Their family was close, the only warmth in the dark of the summer days.
The raids began not long after she became aware. They were brief, sudden, and terrifying. And she could do nothing to help.
It came as a shock when her mother was killed.
Brutal. Savagery. Hatred became instilled in her – the hatred that was mulling around their own little village from the time the Waterbenders had begun to be captured. Hatred for Kaya's killer.
One day, she promised herself, she'd find him.
She didn't find time to sleep anymore. It seemed like endless plans as the days dragged on. Work, all day, no stopping. She had no time to practice.
Her spirit swelled into what became daughter and mother and sister to her family. She did the cleaning, the washing, the cooking, and tried to do whatever she could – by feats of mean stubbornness, mostly – to keep the straggling little family of three together.
The days became punctuated by pain as the group of warriors began to get ready to leave. Mending the boats, restoring the old, creating the new.
Her father and brother were leaving her.
She still had Gran-Gran, but compared to the loving family of mother, brother, and father she had once had, it seemed cruel.
She was ever so grateful when her father made him stay. Something familiar and reliable.
There was no danger anymore.
She ached to see her father, touch him, hug him, kiss him. Cry. Wail and express wordlessly how abandoned she felt. How disconnected from the rest of the world.
She'd never really believed there were people out there. Their tribe wasn't happy, not by any standards, but such is the fate of children growing up during something great and terrible. But she was forced into reality – the reality that there were other humans out there somewhere.
They had never felt so far away.
Not only the distant lands they were warring with and reinforcing, but the other people in her tribe, too.
Her world whittled down to her, brother, and Gran-Gran. Work.
The days slid by with nothing distinguishing one day from the next.
Then, one remarkable day her Gran-Gran had coughed, and creaked into a weak speech. She talked as they worked. It lasted for many days, and she was mesmerized.
She told her of the places that were beyond the reach of the barren South Pole. Luscious green grasslands as far as the eye can see, unimaginable plants like roses and trees, and an uncrossably wide desert filled with sand instead of snow.
She dreamt.
And then Gran-Gran began to tell her stories of a person. It was a mysterious person, for sure, who lived just as or more secluded as they. He was very old, and very wise, and sure. It was a mysterious person who seemed to have the biggest need, duty to protect the world and end the war, but for some reason he couldn't.
She felt sure it wasn't cowardice. If nothing else, this person wasn't afraid. He was brave and strong and the stories of him and his powers made her feel…
Warm.
Safe.
Not only was he a master of his native element, Airbending, he could also preform amazing bending from all of the other nations.
Gran-Gran didn't know his name, but she said that wherever he went, he was called the Avatar.
Her days became more bearable. She looked forward to the stories. She began to find time to use Waterbending. It was a game. She must become as powerful as the elusive man so that one day, she could help. She was a Waterbender.
It became clear that Gran-Gran knew more about Waterbending than anyone she knew. She talked of it with a kind of longing, and it was wonderful to hear her speak of incredible feats of water that would be possible if she only practiced. Great spirals and orbs and waves higher than she could imagine. She worked.
Her days became absorbed with her task and learning and doing all she could. Her brother was becoming a warrior, and she was becoming a Waterbender.
There was one lingering shadow over the years that passed: her father may not come home.
The younger children began to shoulder a minute fraction of the work, freeing her to go hunting with her brother more often. Fishing.
And it seemed that howevermuch she got older and grew wiser and began to understand the way of things, the more childish her brother was. Ridiculous, loud, senseless. He was obsessed with teaching the little kids things that he hadn't mastered himself. He actually thought he was doing something helpful, and scorned her while she honed her Waterbending skills.
It was a pretty ordinary day they went fishing. It was winter, and they'd been out so long it was late at night. She could see clearly, and carefully managed to capture a fish in the water.
He'd scolded her terribly, and she'd lost her patience. It was enough. Her fragile hold, her grip on reality severed as everything caught up to her in that horrible moment. Her father's abandonment. Her mother's death. The war that had taken so much from their village and the world.
She wasn't aware of the iceberg shattering behind her as she screamed at him, of every rage for everything that had ever gone wrong. They were stranded. She shrieked and vowed she'd leave him alone, she wasn't going to stand by him anymore.
She knew from the start she had to help the person in the ice. He was small, and glowing and she felt so connected to him in a way she hadn't ever felt before. Her brother was paranoid, and scared, she realized, for her.
He was dangerous. She could tell, and as his blazing eyes quieted, he fell into her arms. She could sense the power thrumming from him, even though he was semi-conscious. He was full of energy, and when he opened his eyes, she could see windows to wisdom and things she'd never dreamed existed.
He did more for her in the first day than she'd experienced in her entire life. It was clear he was full of wisdom and a painful past. He offered her things she'd never realized could be true.
She could leave.
It seemed impossible, but then, so did he. There were moments she wondered when she'd wake up.
The Fire Nation came, bringing another element into her life. Prey. But with him on her side, she suddenly felt they had a fighting chance.
When they went to rescue him, she knew instinctively that she wouldn't return home for a long time. As fun as it seemed, she was going … off to war. She felt a bond with her father, and understood.
When the truth about him came out, it made much more sense. There was a purpose to his life, and through his, hers. She was to help him.
It hadn't even occurred to her that he could be dangerous to her. But his eyes glowed, and his tattoos (she'd always been afraid of people with tattoos, before she met him) blazed with an unearthly light and she was terrified. More scared than she'd ever been in her life, because she truly believed that anything he did was accidental.
He didn't want to hurt her, did he?
The first thing out of her mouth was about her mother. It was always on the tip of her tongue, and suddenly she was blurting out that they were family now, her, brother, and him. And it was … true.
Slowly, over time, he opened to her in a way that he hadn't to other people – he felt closer to her. And she understood it. He was her best friend, the only person that she could trust with utmost certainty. Even her brother didn't understand the loyalty they shared.
She was heartbroken when he burned her. She understood now, the difference in his temper and power and disposition between his normal state and when so much power was poured into him he was unrecognizable. And the fact that he was grounded when he hurt her made it all the worse.
By the time she healed herself, the anger had faded. It was hard to be angry with him, she realized. And she also realized that he preserved his guilt for hurting her for as long as he lived. He grew up some that day.
Their lives moved into a comfortable rhythm. She knew, whatever they faced, he could protect them. She grew steadily better at Waterbending until she was a force to be reckoned with, especially with all the practice the two of them were getting. And her brother – with the constant ability to test his skills on Firebenders left and right, he was finally becoming the fierce warrior he'd always wanted to be.
It hurt her heart to watch them try and force him into the Avatar State. She felt that he was abusing himself, and through that, her. But she couldn't fail to notice that what finally drove him over the edge was his desire to punish whoever had hurt her. Sometimes she wondered if he'd thought she was dead.
She'd never been alone with him for so long before. It became clear he was nervous, and talked overly quickly and loud, but by the time she had recovered from her anger, it seemed hopeless. The lights went out, and she felt such a connection to him in the dark that she found herself leaning forward before the gems began to shine in the tunnel.
They didn't fight much after that.
She'd never considered the possibility that he would be jailed. And he was so stubborn, too. But really, it seemed a game. He was even more childish than her brother, but she knew with absolute certainty that whatever punishment they inflicted, he would be okay.
In her mind, she'd always imagined that the Earthbending teacher would be in one place, and they would stay until he had mastered the element. But then, all of a sudden they were tracking down this girl and then they were flying away with her happily, freed, in tow.
Part of their family.
They fought more than the others. As she recalled, he and her brother had never disagreed. Everyone took orders from him instinctively, because he was so sure of himself. But then, as their family became closer and closer, she realized they all gave orders. No matter what he was, they were equal.
And then his bison was gone. She noticed, however, that as the time passed he had gone from referring to him as his bison to theirs. All of them. They shared.
She realized that she felt closer with these two that had once been strangers than her own father. They would do anything for one another.
The desert was almost a gift. They emerged stronger than before, and determined in a fresh mission.
It was brutal reality that they had a house in Ba Sing Se. She saw that the pace of her life was picking up, and she didn't know if she was ready for summer. The moment was the last time she had been in a house she could call her own, it had been with her blood family, when her life was empty.
She was really living for the first time.
And then they split up. He was devastated, and she had never realized how much they all meant to him, especially him, who must feel so lonely in the world.
She was staying. He was going. Her brother would see Dad again. And the other girl – she was seeing her mother.
It was only hours before her world fell apart and the only light in her horizon was him. He was the only one who could save her, and she knew with some women's intuition, absolute certainty, that he would come.
She threw it back in the Prince's face, because if there was one thing she knew more than anyone in the entire world, it was him. He was her world.
And then he was falling. And her feelings, emotions, and power surged inside her until she felt she would burst. She found strength inside her to overwhelm all of them, simply sweep them away under her massive wave.
Tears streamed from her cheeks and she dropped beside him, grabbing his limp body in her arms, and then they were gone.
He was dead. But there was nothing she wanted more than to heal him, and she sobbed as she did, and to her astonishment, he came back.
Those weeks were the worst of her life. Her father was with her again, but she couldn't talk to him. She couldn't reconcile with him, not when he was in such bad shape. She stuck to her point that at all costs he must be protected during the war meetings. She spent all her time healing him, over and over again.
It felt like winter had begun, the sun had risen for the first time in six months, when he woke. Her life revived and began again.
Life seemed to have sped up until it was the invasion, and she was still recovering from the trauma of Bloodbending, and he was still freshly aware of what could happen when he was deprived of sleep for too long.
He didn't think he would come back. She realized that for him, this was the deciding moment – this was the time he realized he was going off to war.
It was a quick peck, and then he was gone. She'd never forget it.
When they accepted the Prince, she felt betrayed and ashamed. She watched them all give in to him, one by one, until she was the obnoxious one, she was the enemy, even though it was she who ached and hurt so much inside.
And then she forgave him. Her promise had proved right. It was the only time she'd used Bloodbending, and it felt good to astonish him, watch that little sliver of an eye widen ever so slightly.
And then he disappeared. He was gone, and she had absolute faith he would be back. She chose to support the Prince and leave her usual fighting companions behind.
She realized he was part of their family now, too.
It wasn't a choice, when it came to it, to save him. It was instinct. It was what she had to do. The similarity didn't escape her, and she wondered if either of them would have lived without her help.
No.
They had to wait a day and a half for the others to arrive by airship from the Earth Kingdom. She spent the time reflecting while she helped the Fire Lord pull his affairs together.
Reflecting on how the stories of the Avatar her Gran-Gran had told her so differed from the reality he was. He was childish and strong and not proud at all. He was selfless and brave and so unlike anything she'd ever known.
They were waiting. "And your mother would be proud, too." She was so happy, with her father and her brother and him, the Fire Lord, the girl who taught him Earthbending. Her family.
She didn't see him see him until he was out on the balcony, and suddenly the Fire Lord's words pounded in her ears. "The real hero is the Avatar."
Hero. That's what he was, truthfully. But when it came down to it, the only thought that filled her mind was this:
No matter whatever else he is, you could have just called him Aang.