It was a hot afternoon when Jet rounded up his personal guard comprised of five other Freedom Fighters. This elite little team also included Longshot and Pipsqueak. Jet had them all moving within minutes, heading towards a fresh Fire Nation raid. "With any luck," he said, "there will still be something left we can save." They all knew what the Fire Nation did, knew how they did not show mercy. If this village they were heading to was burnt to the ground, it would not be the first time the Freedom Fighters had been unable to help. Jet was a good guy, Longshot supposed. The young man wanted to help the villages and small town surrounding the elaborate tree house in which they lived. Whether it be through blocking Fire Nation supply trains or lending a hand to help rebuild a razed town, Jet was always there in the thick of it, willing to assist.
The Freedom Fighters had all faced their fair shares of monstrosities, both on the home and war front. They were all orphaned by the Fire Nation, torn from their family, and the new additions to the steadily growing makeshift family kept getting younger and younger. Jet tried to shelter the younger ones as best he could. He did not allow them to go on recon missions or scout too far from the house in the trees. He assigned them daily chores and tasks to keep them busy, and to be a contributing part of the team. Yeah, Jet was a good guy. Longshot was the first to be found by Jet. The strange twelve year old kid with wild hair and an affinity for grass stalks had convinced Longshot of his dream. His dream was a little far-fetched and was originally resisted by the young "mute" archer at first but with some gentle words Longshot had changed his mind. Afterall, where else would the newly orphaned boy go to? His home was in smoldering ashes, his parents dead and he knew of no other family. Jet had proposed the idea of living in the treetops and helping other orphan kids and getting revenge on the Fire Nation. Longshot thought it was too big a plan to accomplish but, Jet was a talented guy. He had made that dream a reality and over twenty kids already thrived under his care.
Longshot was Jet's right-hand man and that meant following him into every razed town, following every order and making sure everyone else did to. Jet created unity and Longshot kept order. Being in charge meant gritting your teeth and doing the dirty work, setting an example for other to do that same even if it meant dragging charred bodies into hard earned graves dug from the strength of his own back, or collecting dismembered limbs, all sorts of atrocities. But those were the earnings of the Fire Nation and none of them would turn their back on people who fell victim to Fire. They had all done these heart-wrenching, gut-clenching things and seen some bad stuff, but this village would surprise them in all sorts of ways.
It was three hours past mid-sun when the little group arrived at the village. It was, or rather, used to be a very small huddle of buildings, houses most likely. It was hard to tell the purpose as they were all burnt to the ground of very close to it. Only one house seemed to survive at all, only half razed on the very edge of the cluster. "Longshot, go check out that house, the of you, see if you can find anything worth keeping," Jet instructed. They were bitter words, no one was left to save, no houses that would need to be rebuilt. Nothing but cinders. Longshot kept a hand near the knife in his belt. He was not skilled with a blade, but it could save your life in a sticky situation. The chances of a Fire Nation soldier in the house was minute but it was better safe than sorry. He ducked under a fallen beam that used to be the doorframe and stepped into the smoky house. The left side of the quaint home was burnt away completely, the roof slouched over the place where walls used to be. There was little to no light, and any ray of the dying sun that managed to peek through a crack in the walls was smothered by smoke. There was nothing in here. Longshot was actually quite surprised at the small amount of damage that had come to the furnishing of the place. Still, there was nothing useful. He ducked through a crumbling door way and surveyed the new room, perhaps a bedroom.
There was a small snap of a dying ember and a slight groan of wood somewhere else. He glanced through half-burned items but nothing of use was to be found. He turned to leave when he swore he heard a cough. He halted and tilted his head to capture the slightest sound. Was that breathing? He ran to the far corner of the room, crashing through debris and lifting fallen plaster away. He heaved a large slab of smoking plaster from the corner and there, underneath a slanted beam was a child. Spirits, he was alive! The child was curled away from him, a linen with holes burned in it wrapped around the little body. He lifted the beam with a grunt and pushed it aside. He did not hesitate in hoisting the child in his arms and running from the house. He had to get some fresh air into the kid. He darted from the house and into the little village square. "Longshot?" Pipsqueak's voice asked from a distance. The fifteen year old archer ignored him and threw himself into checking this kid for burns or other injuries. He lowered the little body, shoulders and head in his lap.
Now that the child was stretched along the ground, lungs working weakly, it was evident that he was actually a she. A young woman on the very cusp of womanhood lay before him. She had a tiny figure, perhaps only thirteen, the ends of her hair charred and black. She had a pretty face, smeared with ash. A strangled breath filled her lungs and left with a solid cough. Suddenly Jet was running over and everyone else had gathered around them. "Where did you find her?" Jet asked looking from the girl to Longshot. Longshot jerked his head toward the house behind him, his eyes never leaving the girl. Whispers hung among the others in the little group as Longshot waited for the girl to start responding to the fresh air. She was unconscious, probably from the fumes. He grabbed the tattered shift from his shoulders and wiped the ash from her red cheeks. The pads of his fingers grazed along the skin of cheekbones. He pulled back a little, making sure to wrap his fingers in the torn fabric so he would not touch her skin again. It was probably the softest thing he'd ever touched. Longshot could feel the heat of her body seeping through the thin fabric of his pants, the flames had made her blood boil. A water flask was suddenly in his line of vision. He looked up to find Jet holding it down to him. He poured the water onto his blackened shift, soaking it and pressing it to her head and neck.
"We should get out of here," Jet said after a moment. One of the group had come back, reporting nothing else was found to salvage. Longshot nodded and hoisted the girl into his arms. She would not be a burden to carry back to the treehouse.
Longshot took it upon himself to be the sole care-taker of the girl. He brought her to his room, a small pace with four walls all to himself. He laid her on his pallet and went to gather an extra sleeping mat and blankets. She was becoming restless by the time he got back. However, what Longshot wasn't expecting was a bloody-murder scream to erupt from the young girl. He nearly jumped out of his skin, whipping around to see the girl sitting straight up on the pallet, sweating and with wide, fear-stricken eyes. A strangled little cry left her mouth before she noticed she was not alone. She yelped, and scrambled backwards on the bed. "W-who are you?" Her voice was scared, still in the high octaves of childhood.
"Longshot," he spoke softly. She continued to stare at him, her chest heaving, until a thick cough shook her lungs.
"Where am I?" She demanded after she finished choking. She was trying to sound brave and demanding, but Longshot could tell she was very scared. He opened his mouth to answer her when Jet's voice broke in.
"You're with the Freedom Fighters," he said coolly, the grass stalk twirling between his teeth. The girl looked from him to Longshot and back again. "We want to help you." When she didn't say anything, Jet continued. "We're safe here. We're all kids that got left behind because of the Fire Nation... just like you." At this, the girl started to cry and Jet knelt in front of her. "Hey, its ok. We're a family here and we all take care of eachother. Like Longshot here. Did you know he ran into a burning building just to save you?" Jet of course, overembelished. The building had not been in flames and he had no idea anyone was still inside.
"Really?" The girl peeped, glancing at Longshot.
"Really," Jet said in a low voice. "You know, I'm willing to bet he's glad to finally have a roommate, being that he's such a scary guy." The girl giggled a little. "There that's better," he smiled. "You rest and eat something and we'll introduce you to everyone tomorrow ok?"
"Ok," she nodded wiping a tear from her cheeks.
The girl was soon dubbed Smellerbee when Jet had misplaced his cup of leechy juice and the girl had found it rather quickly. "A sniffer, great!" Jet had laughed ruffling her hair.
Longshot took Smellerbee under his wing and taught her the ropes of being a Freedom Fighter. She was brash and fearless, so unlike the girl that had cried in his room a few days ago. He could see the pain that she was hiding in her big brown eyes, and knew her new temperament was a result of the agony of losing her family and resentment towards the people who did it. But he guessed that was ok, everyone had their own way of dealing with it. He had stopped talking.
They became a great pair within the first three days. She was very quick to pick up on his moods and his thoughts and lived with him accordingly. She was never in the way, pulled her weight and was good company. After two weeks she started speaking his thoughts. It was strange. No one had ever been able to interpret him so well before, but then again, maybe that happened when you were always attached at the hip with someone.
She had been helping him dye the feathers of his arrows bright red one day, so they would be easy to find, when she reached up and itched her cheek where a bug had tickled her with its legs. Longshot had looked over and smiled. The two stripes on her face made her look like a bee and he thought that fit her just fine.
The nightmares still plagued Smellerbee and Longshot was always there to hold her as she snuggled into his side until she stopped crying.
It was a rainy day and Longshot had not seen his bestfriend since breakfast. He didn't really worry about her since she was so fierce and had really taken to knifes and daggers like a fish took to water. He knew she could protect herself should something happen, but, he couldn't help but be concerned. When he didn't see her at lunch he went to search for her. She wouldn't leave from the safety of the trees so that narrowed his search a little. The rain was still falling when he found her, legs hanging off the edge of a platform, rain dripping from the roof and soaking her through. "Hey, Longshot," she said quietly. She sounded tired. He sat down next to her, hips touching so that the brim of his hat would shield her head from the rain. She put her hand in her hair and pretended to ruffle her hair; a nervous tick she had developed. He followed her slender fingers to her hair and noticed she had chopped the ends off.
"New style?"
"Yeah. I was tired of looking at it." He couldn't figure out why, her hair was pretty and voluminous, something he suspected other girls would kill for. But then again, Smellerbee wasn't just another girl. "It reminded me of when my mom used to braid my hair," she said quietly. And then she sniffled. He stood up and led her out of the rain where they sat down and leaned up against a wall. She was crying now and it worried Longshot. Sure she cried sometimes when she had those bad dreams, but not like this. This was different. He untied the little knot in his blue shift and wiped the rain from her face with it, the red paint she now wore regularly, smearing across her pale skin. "I miss them so much," she sobbed. He understood this pain and the best thing he could do was gather her in his arms and hold her tight until she stopped crying.
Three months had passed and Smellerbee was a regular fixture in Longshot's life. Over the months they started spending every waking moment together. He helped her practice her hand-to-hand and she helped him maintain his bow and arrows. They took scouting missions together and night watches on the rare occasions they had to. Most of their time was spent wandering the woods, looking for signs of the Fire Nation or other such disturbances. They would have lunch together, usually half a loaf of course bread and maybe even a piece of dried meat if they were lucky. But they always enjoyed plucking wild berries for dessert as they walked along after lunch. She hated lychee nuts and loved wild blackberries. She didn't like skinning and gutting her kills but she was a great hunter. Smellerbee liked when Longshot hummed but was a bad singer herself. She had defined cheekbones for someone so young and her hair had already begun to brush her shoulders and Longshot had gifted her with a headband to keep her bangs out of her eyes. Her lips were full and pink and her big doe eyes had started to shine as she settled into her new life comfortably.
On the first mission she attended she had nearly lost her hand when a Fire Nation soldier swung at her with a sword but she was too quick and ducked under it, popping up behind him and hitting him over the head with the hilt of her dagger. Longshot came out bleeding but nothing too deep. When they had gathered the things they could salvage and stored it away in the trees, Smellerbee had found Longshot tending to the wound on his upper arm. She had brushed his hands away, cleaned the cut and wrapped it with a strip of linen. She was a good friend. Yeah, a pretty good friend.
When the man with the sword had almost sliced her hand off she didn't shy away from the heavy blades but embraced it. She started practicing with rapiers the very next day. For a week she suffered from aching muscles in her shoulders and every night before bed Longshot would work out the knots and rub a mixture of pasty herbs onto her back to ease the pain. He decided he liked the domestic way he and Smellerbee got along.
Five months after her arrival Longshot was shaken awake one night by a wide-eyed Bee. "Longshot, wake up!" He looked over his shoulder at her with sleepy eyes. "Something's wrong," she whispered frantically. He shot up and waited for her tell him what was going on. Strangley enough she wouldn't meet his eyes, which was odd because that was usually how she figured out what he was thinking. She kind of looked embarrassed, which was also peculiar because they told eachother everything with no shame. She wrung her hands breathing nervously. She was scared. "My stomach's been hurting for the last couple of days and then I had to go to bathroom and- I'm- I'm bleeding... down there," she blushed, refusing to look at him.
Oh. Oh.
Well this was going to be awkward.
"That's normal, don't worry." He leapt from his cot and pulled his shirt on. "I'll be right back." He really hoped he could find something in the medical supplies for this. His face was beet red as he moved silently to the storage hut. Maybe Jet could tell her- no. No. That would be bad. He probably would make some weird analogy to animals and nature and- just no. He'd probably scare her more than comfort her. Yes. Yes it would have to be him. Longshot felt it was his duty as her friend to tell her about this stuff gently. Contrary to popular belief, Smellerbee was actually quite sensitive when it came to her femininity. And with no other girls in the group old enough to understand what all this stuff was, it was up to him. He dug through the crate of medical supplies until he found a bundle of linen that was actually supposed to be used for bandaging but they would have to do. He grabbed the little knife in the bottom of the crate and cut the strip into more plausible sizes.
He gave them to Smellerbee when he got back and actually spoke, telling her to "use them to- you know- and put them in her, um... wrappings." Smellerbee found it hard to read him. She couldn't really figure out why he was acting so weird. It was awkward, yes, because it was kind of a private place but it was just like any other wound wasn't it?Wasn't it? She thanked him quietly and left to take care of herself. Longshot knew this would be a conversation where he would have to actually talk because it would be far to complicated for her to be try and read his thoughts. When she returned he took her by the shoulders and gently sat her on the end of his bed where he sat as far away from her as possible and leaned back against the wall. "What happened is... normal for um, young ladies," he forced out, his voice hoarse from disuse. "And it means that she is um, old enough to... bear...carry... er, have, babies." Smellerbee just stared at him, big innocent eyes waiting for further explanation. He coughed awkwardly and looked everywhere but at her face. "And there's this, um... thing... that has to happen before a girl can get pregnant and have a baby..."
Smellerbee stared at him in horror. "You mean he...and then they..." Her face was just as red as his now as she got up and went to her own bed. "That makes a lot more sense now," she said numbly.
Since Smellerbee couldn't remember when her birthday was they celebrated it on Longshot's. He had spent the little money he had in a large village a few miles away on a moon-peach for her. On the way back he searched high and low for a flower that might still be in bloom even in the fall. He found one, with a thin stem and a teeny tiny white flower at the top. It was actually kind of perfect.
Winter was harsh that year. Longshot could not remember a winter so cold since he had joined the Freedom Fighters. Everything was slammed to a halt when the cold temperatures hit. No scouting or recon missions were assigned and everyone stayed inside. Jet put all the youngest kids in a hut together for body heat, where they slept on pine needle and straw matresses. He also made sure that they had any extra blankets the older ones could possibly spare.
Longshot, Jet, Smellerbee, Sneers and Pisqueak, among others, started to give a part of their portion of food to the little ones. Smellerbee took this job especially seriously. By the second month of the snowy season she was giving almost all of her food to the young kids. She said she didn't mind and that she really wasn't that hungry anyways, but Longshot knew better. She was starving. He started gathering scraps for himself and gave Bee a large portion of his rations, although she usually refused them.
They had taken to sleeping in the same bed because it was far to cold to sleep alone anymore. He always made sure to curl around her and share as much warmth with her as possible. He gave her his cloak to wear at night but she still shivered. When he would wrap his arm around her waist he would feel the cold seeping through her clothes from her skin and her ribs had become frighteningly defined. Smellerbee also ceased to be the first one that woke up in the mornings. Longshot would wake first, only to find she had rolled over in her sleep and buried her cold nose in his chest and still shaking. She was always shaking. He would gather her closer to him and will the cold to go away. The first time he felt the sharp bones of her shoulder blades he nearly cried. She was getting so thin. She was small to begin with, even in the summer months, but this was dangerously skinny. He watched as she became more exhausted with each passing day to the point where they were sleeping in until noon. There were dark crescents under her eyes that had now become dull with hunger. But she never stopped giving food to the little ones. Longshot tried, with growing panic, to get her to accept the extra food he spared for her but she refused until she became so thin that the cold never let her stop shivering. Her teeth chattered so much she could hardly eat.
Her body finally gave up and she came down with a frightening sleeping sickness. Longshot never left their hut except to get her water and hot soup. She was unaware of him pouring liquids down her throat every few hours. The weather was only getting worse and now Longshot woke up to the blankets covered in frost and stiff with cold. He told Jet how bad Smellerbee was getting and the leader immediately granted him extra clothes and blankets for her. Now that he would able to leave her by herself for a few hours without fear of her freezing to death, he started hunting. His goal was not only to give the group the meat they so sorely needed, but to make a sleeping bag out of the hide for Smellerbee. It took him a few days of hunting in the afternoon but he finally managed to spot a yak-deer. And Longshot never missed.
The sleeping bag took some time to make but at least Smellerbee finally stopped shivering at night. She finally woke up after a whole day of sleeping in the new bag. She blinked slowly and looked around, confused. It was dark and she actually felt warm for once. Had she fallen asleep? The last thing she remembered was Longshot pulling her closer to him for the night. It was disconcerting waking up not knowing exactly what happened or where exactly you were. She sat up wearily, finding she was rather sore and achy. She saw Longshot next to her, his face peaceful in sleep. She lay back down and snuggled close to him. So long as Longshot was around, she knew she would be ok. His shirt was scratchy on her cheek but he was warm and so was she. It took another week before Smellerbee was up and back to her chores. She tired a little quicker but Longshot was just happy she wasn't sleeping constantly.
Spring arrived and with it came a sigh of relief. Not only was everything easier now but something else was happening, something Longshot was having a hard time ignoring. Smellerbee was having a growth spurt. She was fourteen now and he sixteen. He tried not to notice how her clothes suddenly became to small or how she was becoming curvier, but he couldn't help it. Suddenly, Jet was paying more attention to her. And somehow, that didn't sit right with the archer. Everytime he saw Jet leaning over her, her back pressed against a tree and his arm above her head, something hot and bitter boiled in his chest. And then when she would come back to his side, her cheeks pink, the hot bitter feeling would vanish and be replaced by something heavy in the pit of his stomach.
And then Smellerbee wasn't always attached to his hip. She was with Jet most of the time and it left a strange, empty, aching place in his chest. As the first month of spring passed Smellerbee no longer sat with Longshot at meals or worked alongside him, but always stayed glued to their leader's side and only returned home after Longshot had just curled up in bed. He wasn't angry with her, he just felt a little... alone. But one night he heard Smellerbee arrive sniffling. Something must be wrong because she didn't cry anymore, hadn't in a long time. He shot up and was on his feet in a second, lighting the lantern that hung from the ceiling. He grabbed her shoulders and started checking for injuries. Something must be hurting badly for her tears. He looked at her, pleading for her to tell him what happened. She shook her head and moved out of his grasp. She sat down on the edge of her bed and stared at the floor, suddenly very quiet. Longshot knelt in front of her and dipped his head so he could catch her eyes. When she finally looked at him her resolve broke and she started crying. She wiped the tears from her cheeks with the heel of her hand but it was of no use because they kept falling. "He hates me," she sobbed. "H-he kissed me and I kissed him back and then he tried t-to take m-my shirt off," she hiccupped. Rage coursed through Longshot, hot and searing like he'd never felt it before. If Jet had hurt her, he would kill him. "And I told him I wasn't ready and he p-pushed me away and told me I was a tease... I-I don't even know what that means!" She cried. " Then he yelled at me and told me to get out."
Longshot pulled her into his arms and sat on the bed next to her, pulling her across his lap. "Did I do something wrong?" She asked softly. "I don't understand." He leaned back and held her chin in his fingers, forcing her to look at him when he shook his head that, no, she hadn't done anything wrong.
He noticed that after that night Smellerbee suddenly became very bitter about her gender. She cut her hair shorter than ever before and purposely dressed in Longshots old clothes that were too big so that her figure was obscured. She became rough around the edges and always seemed to snap at people a little more often that before. When Longshot silenty asked her why she didn't like being a girl she said "It makes me weak." Longshot didn't like that answer. He quite liked that she was a girl.
That winter was much easier to get through than last year, although the pair still had to sleep in the same bed to keep warm. But Longshot didn't mind. She was his bestfriend and he loved her for it.
Spring brought about something new. A strange fluttering feeling in Longshots stomach whenever Smellerbee looked at him. It made his heart race and his hands shaky. He couldn't figure out what was wrong with him, afterall, he'd never had a crush before.
Longshot and Smellerbee started to notice a change in Jet that spring. He became more distant. His behavior riskier and wilder. He seemed to become very bitter and talked more often about the evils of the Fire Nation. The Freedom Fighters started making more raids on Fire Nation troops and their "salvaging" of razed towns suddenly seemed a little more like stealing.
Summer was hot. Fire Nation hot. Agni the sun god hot. Longshot and Smellerbee started swimming that season. She didn't know how to swim, but Longshot sure did. Afterall, he spent the first ten years of his life living in a fishing village. Smellerbee was not a shy girl. No. Not shy at all. She pulled her shirt over her head like no one was even around. Longshot turned it head away so quickly he felt it crack. It wouldn't be polite to be a looky-loo. Then Smellerbee spouted off with "I've got my underwear on, you can look you big panda-lily." His ears were even red when he turned around and saw her.
She was beautiful.
All lean muscles and pale skin, it made his heart race. He could see a few light colored burn scars on her waist but save for that, her flesh was flawless. She was much more grownup than he originally thought. She looked like a woman, not a girl. He was still baffled why she was ashamed of being a female because he thought she was perfection. He shyly pulled his shirt off and stripped down to the white wraps he wore for underwear and waded out into the water.
Longshot dove headfirst into the water and resurfaced, pushing his long black hair out of his face. Smellerbee thought he was magnificent. He was not bulky but she could see the strong muscles in his arms from years of pulling a bowstring back. His chest and stomach were sculpted but not deeply defined. She blushed and pretended to look at the trees. She waded out into the water until it reached her shoulders. The water only came to the middle of his pecs and she envied his height for a moment. Without a word as usual, Longshot suddenly picked her up by the waist and carried her out into deeper water. No one had ever taught her how to swim so she scrambled towards her bestfriend and latched onto him for dear life. She looked up at him and saw his strong jaw, drops of water trickling down the side of his face and dripping off his chin. He suddenly looked down at her and she blushed deeply.
He supported her feather-like body as she flattened out on the surface of the water and learned how to float and he was there to yank her back out of the water when she forgot how to float. He stood steadily, just his shoulders out of the water, when she clung to him as she regained her breath and her confidence. He thought she looked absolutely stunning with her brown hair plastered to her neck and forehead, and the red paint on her cheeks smeared on her jaw. It made that weird thing happen in his belly again, when it felt like there were wolf-bats in there. He showed her how to paddle like a rabbit-dog and how to hold her breath like a buffalo-toad. She was a quick learner, like she was with everything else, and by the time the sun was sinking and everything was plunged into orange, she could swim.
They slogged out of the water, laughing at some joke she had made. He took a moment to duck under water to get his hair out of his face before he followed her onto the bank. He bent down to grab his clothes when a sharp gasp came from Smellerbee. He looked up and saw Jet leaning against a tree, his eyes narrowed wantingly at her. Longshot saw her clumsily trying to cover herself up with her clothes. He snagged his clothes and was at her side in three strides. He covered her with his shirt and took her fumbling body into his arm to shield her from Jet's prying eyes. "Too bad. I rather liked the look," he leered.
"Put a lid on it, Jet," she growled, her cheeks pink, betraying her tough shell.
The older boy rolled his eyes and then turned his gaze to the archer. "Is she putting out for you, Longshot?"
"Jet!" She yelped, scandalized.
"Harlot," he sneered under his breath as he turned and walked into the trees.
"I am not!" She shouted after him, her hands tensing into little fists. Angry tears pricked at her eyes and she swiped them away angrily. Longshot bent down and handed her her shirt. She grabbed it angrily and yanked it over her head. She did the same with her bottoms and then wrung her hair out frantically as Longshot dressed. "Stupid short hair!" She yelled when the ends kept slipping from her fists. "Stupid life, stupid me, stupid being a girl, stupid, stupid, stupid!" She ranted, kicking a rock so hard it flew into the forest and knocked on a tree seconds later. He reached over and grabbed her shoulders, holding her seething body in place. She glared at him, her eyes watery, her fists shaking. "It's not your fault, Bee."
"It never is, is it?" She said bitterly.
Stupid Jet.
Fall came faster than they thought possible. Jet was acting more and more crazed by the day and Longshot and Smellerbee avoided him whenever possible. And then one day, there were three new mouths to feed. Longshot didn't really care on way or another, but he had a feeling that things were coming to a head with Jet and these new comers would be the catalyst.
No. He wouldn't do it. There were innocent people down there and Longshot didn't take innocent blood.
"You're lucky, Longshot," Jet said, turning his back and unsheathing his hook swords. "Smellerbee is a pretty girl. I bet she would do anything you asked," he said with a smirk that was full of innuendo. "It's be a real shame if something were to happen to her..." he drawled, admiring the blade of the swords. "She's strong, but I'm stronger."
"I'll do it," Longshot blurted out loud. His was shaking in fear at the thought of something happening to her. There was a feeling that went beyond friendship with her now, something that was stronger than a common bond. Longshot didn't know what it was, but it made his heart grip in terror and caused him to agree with Jet without his conscious consent.
"I knew you would," he smiled.
Thankfully the ponytail guy got to the village in time and Longshot would not have to deal with the guilt of killing innocent people.
Things changed after that. Smellerbee and Longshot did not even have to speak to know they were leaving. That very night.
After two weeks of traveling and camping under the stars they finally came to a town that was far enough away from the treehouse that Jet wouldn't come looking for them. Longshot struck up a job of hunting and selling his kills to the local butcher. He made enough money that way to rent a small room in a house owned by a cranky middle-aged man. It wasn't much, but they were happy. Smellerbee tried to find jobs but when her figure gave away her sex, many people turned her down because "this job is not for a young lady." Despite being judged by her gender, she was happy. Annoyed, but happy. She got to spend the afternoons and nights with Longshot and she was learning to cook. She thought she would hate the chore but when she found she was actually quite good at it, she liked it. For a while Longshot was the sole provider and the didn't really sit well with Smellerbee. She wanted to help too. She yelled her concerns to Longshot one night, not really angry with him and she had to apologize for her outburst later. Two days passed and he came back with a piece of leather armor. He tied it on her and smiled proudly. It hid her curves enough, even if it did fit snugly.
Smellerbee got a job two days later. It was so much easier being a boy than being a girl.
However, Longshot really enjoyed that she could be her true self at their little home. The space was not much larger than their room together at the treehouse but it was still hard to get used to not being able to wander around whenever they so well pleased. But that was alright, at least they were together. Longshot found it strangley attractive when she wore a ragged apron around her waist when she cooked. Now that they had to share a small wash basin instead of a whole forest, he started to see more of her habits, the little routines that made Smellerbee, Smellerbee. She always brushed her carefully before bed but tossed her clothes in a rumpled pile on the floor. She always made sure her blades were clean before she curled up under the covers. In the mornings she would open all the windows -a luxury they did not have at the treehouse- even when it was raining. She sang when she took a bath in the small washroom they had. She would insist that Longshot eat something before he went hunting and he would accept the piece of bread or cheese she would offer as he smiled at her messy bedhead. It was the little things like these that made him fall in love with her without even knowing it.
Longshot had been offered a hefty sum of money if he could bring back a platypus-bear, and extra if he brought some eggs along. He informed Smellerbee and set off early the next morning. He was gone for two whole days and nights. He dropped off the meat, hide and eggs at the butcher and walked home. When he arrived, dirty, blood-covered and all, Smellerbee threw herself at him and hugged him tightly. It was a shock, but a welcome one.
Smellerbee's job was a little risky. She was basically a hired guard and that could entail injuries. So when she came home limping and clutching her ribs late at night, Longshot was at her side in an instant. He practically ripped her shirt from her body in a frightened frenzy that left Smellerbee stunned. Suddenly everything was different than when they swam at the pond that summer. It was... intimate somehow. He gathered their meager medical supplies and sat down on a stool across from her by the table. She was bruised pretty badly on her left side and the skin had broken in one place. He dabbed at the little cut with a wet towel as she explained what happened. When he started to wrap her ribs the tips of his fingers grazed her skin and they both froze. Something had burned both of them. He could hear her shaky breath in the silent room and felt it warm across his face. He looked up at her, his heart beating fast. Something in him grew brave and he leaned in closer. "Longsh-"
He pressed his lips to hers softly. He was about to pull away when her hands weaved through his hair and pulled his mouth to hers. Neither of them knew what they were doing but instinct guided them. Lips parted and words of love exchanged. He leaned back and looked at her, her ribs still half bandaged and her lips swollen.
"I love you, Longshot," she whispered. "I guess I've loved you for a long time."
"I love you too, Bee," he grinned. He gave her a gentle kiss and then, blushing went back to tending her wounds.
A year later and a wedding was held in the town. They were young but they were destined.
AN: Alright I've been wanting to write that for a while. Its AU and kind of drabbly and maybe rushed towards the end idk. Let me know what you think and if anything was confusing let me know! :)
