A Monk and the Water Nymph, an avatar: last airbender fanfic

A Monk and the Water Nymph

Nymph: a divine spirit who animates nature, taking the form of a beautiful, young maiden. The origin of their name is associated with the veil—hence their reputation as the mythical brides.

A/N: This is an AU, i.e. an alternate universe from the normal Avatar world. Here, there's still an Avatar and benders etc. etc., but I've added Greek mythology into it as well—namely the existence of water nymphs as one of the spirits that inhabit the human world.

Oh yeah, also, there is no war… in Ba Sing Se.

…

Hahaha, sorry, that was lame xD But yeah, there was no war and the Fire Nation never attacked. There's just peace all around yeahhhh (for now anyway)

Find pictures/scenes from this fic at my deviantART and Tumblr accounts! Enjoy!

"And did you hear that guy when we jumped over his cart? When we accidentally toppled it and he was like 'Noooo, not my radishes!'? I could still hear the echo even after we escaped the city!"

Aang laughed heartily, barely able to feel the twinge of guilt over the rush of adrenaline still pumping in his veins. The wind didn't help his mood; as they soared through the sky on his sky bison, he couldn't help but feel exhilarated, completely out of reach from anyone who would judge his most recent misadventure. "You mean when you toppled it, Kuzon! I dodged that cart completely!"

From Appa's saddle, the Fire Nation youth spluttered and exclaimed, "Hey! Not all of us have super convenient airbending skills that let us hurdle over impossible objects, you know."

"If you were an airbender, I doubt you'd be any less clumsy," Aang chuckled good-humouredly, giving his friend a rueful glance over his shoulder. "I mean, seriously! Of all the people in town, why did you have to perv on a girl whose boyfriend was the head of the city guard?"

Kuzon's face flushed red with both embarrassment and indignation. "I wasn't perving on her, Aang! We were just casually chatting and walking from stall to stall, and then she suddenly tripped. What was I supposed to do—let her fall into the dirt and ruin her dress? I was being the perfect gentleman!"

"Which was why she screamed and slapped you for grabbing her at inappropriate places," Aang returned smartly.

"It was an accident! I was trying to catch her!" At Aang's laugh, Kuzon leaned against the saddle and pointed at his friend's back accusingly. "Well, what about you then?" he said, unable to keep the teasing smirk from his face despite his annoyance with the Air Nomad. "Every time we go somewhere, you always tell people that you're just a humble monk. It doesn't seem to stop the ladies, though."

Aang rolled his eyes and kept his gaze resolutely forward. He had to make sure that they didn't crash into a rogue bird, after all—like a wild dovegoose—or get swallowed by a menacing cloud that aimed to blind them. The skies were treacherous territory indeed. "I don't know what you're talking about," he replied innocently, keeping his tone aloof and disinterested.

"Oh, come on, don't play that with me," Kuzon needled. "I don't know whether it's an Avatar thing or not, but you're really quite popular with the ladies despite being no fun—"

"I'm lots of fun!" Aang interrupted, sounding deeply offended.

"—with romance," Kuzon continued without missing a beat. "I mean, I know you don't like telling people that you're the Avatar and such, but still. They just flock to you and you don't do anything about it!"

Feeling appeased that he wasn't being accused of being a stick-in-the-mud, Aang shrugged. "Why would I do something about it?" he quipped. "I'm honestly just not interested in anything like that right now."

Now it was Kuzon's turn to look slightly affronted. "But how can that be? You're in your prime! The Avatar! You travel the world and meet so many beautiful women! How can you not want to, you know, get a girlfriend or something?"

"I told you, Kuzon: I'm not interested in getting a girlfriend. Girls are nice and all, but I just want to keep traveling, probably for the rest of my life. I doubt any girl would want that."

Kuzon threw his hands up in exasperation. "It's a monk thing, isn't it?" he griped, unable to comprehend a life of chastity at all. "You've vowed to never get married or something, right?"

At that, Aang couldn't help but chuckle softly. He wondered whether his friend could hear his laughter over the noise of the wind as they flew. "You think that the senior monks at my monastery would let kids take a chastity vow when they don't even know what they want to do with their lives? Of course not, you ridiculous man! They don't let us take that vow until we reach the age of twenty-one."

Kuzon frowned, extremely confused. "So… you haven't taken that vow?"

"No," Aang replied. He felt at peace and content, sitting on Appa's head with nothing but the open sky ahead of him and a good friend at his back. He closed his eyes. "But I'm thinking of doing it. I don't see myself being tied down with a family—I honestly don't know what it would be like in the first place, being raised by monks. Besides"—he flashed Kuzon a grin—"maybe then I wouldn't be bothered with so many girls! It's kind of hard telling them that I can't reciprocate their feelings without making them sad. At least if I tell them that I've taken a chastity vow, they'll be able to tell themselves that they got rejected due to my unbreakable sense of duty instead of any lack of fancy."

"You, my good hotman," Kuzon said, pointing at him, "are a terrible man."

Aang couldn't help it; he fell onto his back and shook with mirth.

Kuzon leaned over the saddle to stare at his giggling friend. He had to remind himself that this man—who acted like such a goofy kid at the best of times—was the world's Avatar. "You better watch out," Kuzon warned half-seriously. "One day you're going to meet a girl even more free-spirited than you are and you're going to fall madly in love with her. Hopefully, you'll meet her before you make that ridiculous chastity vow. Or after. It might be the justice you deserve for breaking so many hearts."

Aang inclined his head to quirk an eyebrow at his friend. "Remind me again of how many breakups you've had, oh wise one?"

Kuzon narrowed his eyes and huffed, falling back into the saddle and cutting himself from Aang's view. "Just keep your eyes on the sky, lover boy!"

The Air Nomad chuckled. "Shouldn't I be calling you that, hotman?" Aang teased. But he sat up and finally took notice of how late it was getting. "Hmm… I think we should find a place where we can make camp for tonight. I don't think we'll reach another village before nightfall." At the answering grunt from the saddle behind him, which Aang took as an agreement, he began scouting the ground for a good camping spot. They were flying over a forest now, thick with trees and nowhere to land the giant sky bison. They flew for a few more minutes before Aang finally spied a small clearing sandwiched between the dense forest and a flowing river.

"That's as good of a place as any, I guess," Aang muttered to himself. With a gentle flick of the reins and completely unaware of the future perils he would face in that forest, he said chirpily, "Let's go down, boy."

Aang had been flying through the air with a herd of sky bison when he found himself slowly and gently being pulled away from the realm of dreams and into the waking world. He blinked his eyes open, increasingly aware of the small balls of light that danced in circles in the air, like falling flower petals in the summer to an unheard tune. He lay completely still as his eyes adjusted to the sporadic flickers against the darkness of the night, concentrating on the glowing specks. They were like fireflies, but when Aang reached out to touch one that hovered above his face, it dispersed into a puff of light that drifted up into the sky. With a bemused grin, Aang sat up and looked around the camp, fully awake. There was someone singing in the distance but he couldn't make out the words; it was a whisper, like the wind. He spied Kuzon in his sleeping bag near Appa, the young man unconsciously navigating towards the sky bison for warmth. Aang smiled softly at the sight and slowly stood up, careful not to disrupt the dancing spirits.

'Who is that?' he thought, scanning the camp. The voice was beautiful, haunting yet wholesome and free. He quickly walked towards his friend and gently shook him awake. "Kuzon," he whispered. "Do you hear that?"

Kuzon snapped his eyes open but once he caught sight of Aang and the bright, full moon, he simply groaned and batted Aang's hands away. "Go away, Aang," he grumbled, closing his eyes again. "Not another one of your tricks…"

"No, it's not a trick…" Aang started. But then he glanced at the lights; they were slowly drifting away, disappearing into the forest. "I hear something and I'm going to check it out. I'm just telling you so you don't freak out if you find me missing."

"I don' care," Kuzon murmured sleepily, snuggling back into his sleeping bag. "Go 'way now."

Aang shook his head and stood up; he checked the camp one last time to ensure that his friends were safe. Eager to find this foreign voice and to follow the small orbs of dancing light, he quickly took off, bare-footed but not feeling the chill of the night air at all. The grass was moist with dew beneath his feet but he loved it, this feeling of raw adventure. As he was swallowed by the forest, he felt a sense of thrill as he weaved and ducked and twisted around the large, thick trees with hazardous branches and hanging vines, following the strange lights into the unknown without any fear in his heart. At times his vision was tested but he never once tripped, his reflexes and a small gust of airbending keeping him upright despite all attempts from nature to make him turn back and away.

The voice was getting louder now and Aang's heart was thumping in his chest with uncanny speed. He quickened his pace, unable to explain his eagerness and this desperate need to find the owner of that lovely voice. It was just… calling to him. The tug was familiar—like how the light spirits called him here—but for some reason, hearing this voice was a new and bizarre sensation; it was pulling him by the very essence of his soul, gentle, soothing, and persistent, and even though he knew he could turn away and never look back, he couldn't bear the thought of denying this call.

As he drew nearer, he began to recognise the sound of shifting water. With his heart pounding like a hammer and the blood threatening to deafen his ears, Aang ducked beneath a low-hanging curtain of vines and he just—stopped.

Stopped, and stared.

Because there, in the water, was the most beautiful creature that Aang had ever set eyes upon, standing in the river beneath the bright, white moon with the small spirits of light spinning and twirling around her in a mythical dance that seemed age-old. She spun slowly, gracefully, moving with the water that shifted against her as if they were a part of her. Her arms were outstretched, elegant fingers moving through the air as she played an invisible song, the water following her movements and encircling her at her command. Her dark mahogany hair cascaded down her back and over her shoulders like tendrils of a waterfall, decorated and intertwined with vines and flowers. Atop her head was a crown of petals and river lilies, her eyes softly shut and an expression of pure and utter peace on her lovely face. Full, glistening lips sang her words and even still, Aang could not understand what she was saying—she was singing an old, ancient song, one unknown to man but known to the spirits, and it filled him wholly and completely with nostalgia and this longing to join her, to know the language to sing with her.

But he did not know the language and he did not know who she was—what she was. He'd never met a human as beautiful as she, with copper skin that glistened with the water and a white gown that reflected the lights surrounding her so gently. She was like a waterbender, but he'd never met a waterbender who was in such harmony with the element they bended that they looked as if they were one and the same, their separation non-existent. Aang's throat was dry and his eyes were wide and unblinking, his mouth agape. Even though she looked so peaceful, even though the atmosphere was so calm and magical and beautiful and safe, Aang's heart was beating faster than the wings of a hummingbird, so incredibly loud and frantic, thudding like thunder in his chest; he would have wondered why she couldn't hear it but his mind was completely blank as he stared at her.

And then she opened her eyes and in the next instant, their gazes connected, deep, stormy grey with bright, icy blue.

There was a beat of silence more deafening than any roar of a sky bison and with a splash, she disappeared into the water, the lights extinguishing and fading into the sky.

"Wait!" Aang immediately called, snapping out of his daze. "Please! I just want to talk with you!" He didn't give it another thought: he jumped into the river.

The water was freezing that night and it was so dark that he could barely see. It was quiet beneath the surface and yet everything seemed to echo and amplify in the currents as well—everything just sounded dense, separate from everything. As he allowed himself to drift deeper into the embrace of the water, he closed his eyes and felt with his senses the shifting water around him and the channel of energy that connected all things. Then he felt it: that spiritual tug, that bending of water. With a grin, he launched himself through the water in pursuit, determined to catch her.

Eventually, he needed to replenish his air, so he broke the surface of the water and took a deep breath. He spied her a few yards away from him, using the currents of the river to get away. Aang bended himself out of the water, used a gust of wind to dry himself, and followed her, calling out, "I'm the Avatar! The great bridge between humans and spirits! I'm friendly!" He ran across the surface of the water with light steps, barely breaking the surface and creating a pattern of ripples that followed his wake. He saw her stop for a moment and glance back at him, a curious look passing through her eyes. Hope flared in Aang's chest but then she suddenly turned, stepped out of the river, and disappeared into the trees. Aang was not far behind her.

"Hold up; I'm not going to hurt you!" Aang persisted, weaving and ducking through the trees, barely keeping sight of her white dress as it flickered in and out of his view. "Please wait!" He broke through a curtain of hanging vines and was just able to stop himself from falling headfirst into a natural lake surrounded by thick trees. There was no glowing, no orbs of light—he couldn't see her. There was just quietness and darkness, pierced only by the moonshine. "Hello?" Aang said, trying not to let the disappointment crush him. "Are you there?"

Silence answered him and after a moment of stillness, Aang slumped to the ground and groaned, collapsing on his back. He swung an arm over his eyes, unable to believe that she was able to slip through his fingers—like water that he couldn't bend. He'd never wanted to connect with another person so much in his life and the reality that he'd never even get a chance to speak with her was unnaturally heavy in his heart. It was almost suffocating.

After a while of wallowing in his own self-pity, Aang released a sigh and grudgingly sat up. He was completely unprepared for the sight of bright blue eyes that greeted him, and thus he unwittingly released a small yelp and almost fell back again with surprise. He stared at the young woman in the lake, almost close enough to touch, with unfiltered shock. He stilled completely, dared not even breathe; the last thing he wanted to do was frighten her away.

After a beat, the creature began to frown. She tilted her head to the side and narrowed her eyes at the monk. "Why did you chase me?" she suddenly spoke, her voice chilling and demanding, different to the soft voice that she sang with.

But Aang could still hear it—the gentleness, the kindness. It made his heart flutter, even when she glared at him. "Well, I chased you because you ran away," Aang said, openly honest. "I wouldn't have needed to otherwise."

The young woman stared at him curiously. Aang took a mental note that honesty was probably the best way to go when speaking with her. "You said you were the Avatar," she said, slowly gliding forward through the water. She came close enough to rest her arms against the grass as she peered up at him. "I've never met the Avatar before. I thought you'd look more… fearsome."

"We're peacekeepers, not fighters," Aang replied with a small laugh. He felt himself relaxing as the beautiful creature smiled gently in response to his words. He crossed his legs beneath him and willed his rapidly beating heart to calm down, even if by just a little bit. "My name's Aang," he said quietly. "Can I know yours?"

She grinned and a spark of mischief ignited in her eyes. "How sure are you that I even have a name?"

"Everyone has a name," Aang persisted.

She slowly began to sink backwards into the water, letting her arms fall away from the earth. "Only humans really need names," she whispered with a teasing upturn of her lips. "Do you think I'm human, Avatar?"

Aang followed her movements, leaning forward as well as she slowly retreated. He thought about following her into the water but decided against it—it seemed violating, somehow, if he did that now without an invitation. "If you're not a human, what are you?" he breathed, transfixed. "Are you a spirit? I've met a few spirits in my lifetime, but I have to say… not many of them were very attractive."

Her eyes widened and her smile dropped completely. "Excuse me? Are you calling me ugly—"

"I'm calling you beautiful!" Aang quickly corrected, heart hammering. "More beautiful than anyone I've ever met or anything that I've ever seen."

Her face coloured a flattering shade of red, contrasting prettily with her brown skin and blue eyes. Aang swallowed the lump that suddenly appeared in his throat. By the spirits, what was happening to him? He was an awkward mess, a bundle of nerves, and he couldn't seem to speak anymore. He must have looked like a complete idiot to her as he sat there leaning forward with his mouth opening and shutting wordlessly.

"Well, you certainly are a charmer, Avatar," she finally said, breaking their silence. She grinned and swam up to him swiftly; Aang didn't anticipate it at all when she suddenly leaned up and gently took his face into her hands. "Be careful, human," she whispered, her striking eyes piercing into his and her breath ghosting across his cheeks. "Because if you aren't, you might make me fall in love with you."

Aang was as still as a statue, lost in her eyes and her closeness and by all that was holy and spiritual, he felt like his heart was going to collapse and stop functioning when her thumb shifted slightly to gently caress his cheekbone. He was trapped, the most powerful being in the world rendered helpless in the clasp of smooth, soft hands; she could kill him if she wanted to and he wouldn't have been able to bat an eyelash. She could drag him into the water and drown him, and all he would be able to think about was her eyes. She could kiss him and he'd return it, full-heartedly, even though she was a stranger and he knew nothing about her but the sound of her voice and the curve of her smile. A spell had woven around him, cast by her but unknown to her, and Aang was left breathless and yearning, wanting her to close the gap between them that suddenly felt like a chasm.

"… Just kidding." The hands slipped away and he opened his eyes—when had he closed them?—to gape at her cluelessly. She laughed at his boyish expression; it was rare and refreshing to see that on a young man. "It'll take more than an adorable face and pretty words to do that. You're not that good, Avatar."

Aang blinked owlishly, completely at a loss and uncomprehending of her words at all. Then, slowly, the red began to creep up his neck and into his face and he spluttered, "I-I wasn't trying to—! I mean, I just wanted to—!"

But their moment together was interrupted when they both heard the shout of "Aang!" echoing between the trees of the forest. Aang's eyes widened and he twisted his head towards the sound, immediately recognising the caller and spotting a small light in the distance made by a fire. He turned back to the young woman only to realise that she'd swam even further away from him, deep towards the centre of the lake. "Wait, I still don't—"

"It was nice meeting you, Avatar Aang," she said, bowing her head and smiling at him serenely. "But it's time that you went back to your human friend."

"I still don't know your name!" he said, beginning to panic. He didn't want her to leave. "Please—I need to know." He could barely see her; she was slowly sinking into the shadows, untouched by the moonshine.

He must have been able to convey the urgency to her, because she stilled and called out softly, "Katara." They shared one last look and then she dived into the water, disappearing completely.

"Aang? Aaaaaaaannng! Aang, are you out there?"

Aang slumped back to the grass and stared at the surface of the lake, not even one ripple left from her departure. A part of him was sad that she was gone but mostly, he felt giddy. He couldn't stop the smile from stretching across his face, his heartbeat strong and alive.

"Aaaaaaang? Where the flameo are you?"

"Katara," he repeated, looking up at the moon. "Katara."

"You want to what?" Kuzon shrieked, staring at his friend as if he'd just sprouted a second head. He nearly dropped the supplies that they were supposed to be loading onto Appa.

"I want to stay," Aang said casually, leaning against his glider staff and looking quite content with himself.

"You want to stay," Kuzon repeated slowly, unable to believe his ears. "The first thing you say to me after being all goo-goo eyed and dreamy-faced all morning is that you want to stay." He looked tempted to check Aang's temperature for some forest fever. "Does this… have anything to do with how you disappeared last night?"

"Yup."

"You told me nothing happened!"

"No," Aang drawled. "I told you that I just needed to get some sleep and think. And I've done that. I've thought about it a lot and I decided that I want to stay."

Kuzon glared at the Air Nomad for a moment before he dropped the supplies, marched over to him, and promptly made him sit down on the grass. He sat in front of him cross-legged, a serious and completely fascinated expression on his face. "Alright, hotman. You're going to tell me what happened to you last night. Maybe if you do, I'll think that you're sane again."

So, with a laugh at his friend's disgruntled-ness, Aang told him about the lights and the spirits, and the young woman he met dancing in the waters of the forest. He told him about the chase, about the way she spoke; when he described her to him, his cheeks turned pink, but he couldn't care less because speaking about her made him happy—made her real. The words escaped his lips and the clarity of them, the sureness, obliterated any doubt that she was just a dream.

"And I can't explain it, Kuzon! I just… want to stay. I want to get to know her better; I want to talk with her again. I want to see her bend the water like she did last night, see what she else can do. I want—"

"By the dragons, it's happened, hasn't it," Kuzon suddenly said, blinking rapidly as he stared at Aang with newfound fascination.

"What's happened?"

"You, my dear, stupid friend, have fallen in love."

Aang coloured and opened his mouth to rebuke the ludicrous claim, but Kuzon wasn't finished.

"You fell in love with a water nymph."

Now it was Aang's turn to blink at him questioningly. "A what?"

Kuzon suddenly leapt up and started pacing frantically, crossed between laughing and sobbing with hysterics. "I just—what even… This… I can't believe it!" He spun towards Aang again and the monk felt beads of sweat manifest on the back of his neck at the intense look his friend was casting his way. "A water nymph! You fell in love with a water nymph!" Then he suddenly pounced, locking the Avatar in a headlock and rubbing his bald head with a knuckle. "You crazy man! You sure know how to pick them, huh?"

"Ow! Kuzon! Knock it off!" Aang cried, wrestling with Kuzon briefly before managing to disentangle himself from his mad companion's grip. "What are you talking about?" he griped, curious yet agitated at the same time. "What's a water nymph? Why are you acting like that? And I haven't fallen in love! I just met her!"

"Ha! Don't lie to me! I know the look of a smitten man!" Kuzon collapsed to the ground with a decent imitation of a swoon, a hand at his head and a hand to his heart as he dramatically fell in a faint. Then he bellowed with laughter, unable to take the irony of it all, and just clutched his stomach as he twisted and turned. "I take it that you're not going to be making your chastity vow after all?" he giggled.

Aang watched as his friend rolled around in mirth, feeling his eyebrow tick with irritation. He tried to control the mad blush that surfaced on his face and when he failed at that, he settled for ignoring it instead. In fact, he convinced himself that the blush was due to his rising temper. "Kuzon! Stop it! You're being ridiculous. First of all, she's a spirit! Even if I liked her like that—which I don't, stop looking at me like that—then it's not possible for us to have a relationship anyway. Even if I'm the Avatar, I'm still just the bridge—I can't… have that kind of relationship… with a spirit," Aang said, dismissing the twinge of disappointment he felt at his own words. "It's immoral and unnatural—spirits, what would Gyatso say if… Just, no! Stop laughing!"

Kuzon seemed to sober a little at Aang's discouraging little rant; still on his back, he tossed Aang a disbelieving look. "… You really don't know, do you?"

"About what?" Aang asked, irritated and suddenly sad.

"About nymphs. Being the Avatar and all, I would've thought that you'd know about them!"

"It sounds a little familiar," he admitted grudgingly. "There are a lot of spirits, Kuzon. I haven't studied them all yet. Still—what's so different about them? A spirit's a spirit regardless of their name and it's still forbidden that a mortal—"

"There are exceptions, you idiot," Kuzon laughed. He was enjoying this probably a bit too much. It was always Aang who knew more, who teased him more, who tormented him with pranks and tossed him into the deep end more times that he could remember. Now the shoe was on the other foot and Kuzon was enjoying this role reversal thoroughly. Ah, the miracles of love. "I can understand why you haven't studied about nymphs yet, though. They're extremely rare and their tales are mostly lost in legend. They don't like people all that much and can exist for centuries without anybody even catching sight of one."

"How do you know all this?" Aang asked doubtfully.

"Hey! I'm the one who told you about the dragons, didn't I? I know about awesome supernatural creatures, okay."

Mood elevating slightly, Aang held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. Go on, please." He tried to look disinterested but that was far from the truth. Kuzon's words were unwittingly nursing a seed of hope in Aang that he hoped he wouldn't regret later.

"They're spirits, yes, but they chose to live in the mortal world. Nymphs are special because, well… they're known as the mythical brides. They're looking for their soul mate here in our world—probably because they didn't like their choices in the spirit world, and who can blame them with how handsome we are." Aang's lips twitched despite himself while Kuzon let out a hearty laugh. "And once they've chosen their lucky man," he continued, "then they live happily ever after! They get what they want from the mortal world and some lucky man gets bragging rights about being married to an unnaturally smokin' lady."

Aang was definitely not expecting such a fairy-tale end to the story. "… That's it?"

"What do you mean, that's it?" Kuzon asked, affronted. "You should be leaping for joy, lover boy! You get to hook up with a gorgeous water nymph and not have society judge you for it!"

Aang still felt a little uneasy about the topic—everything had been so black and white before; what had changed?—so he decided to simply bypass the topic altogether. "All that doesn't matter anyway," he said loudly, trying to convince himself as much as his friend. "I'm not planning on courting her or anything." He looked away and cast his gaze onto the river. The sun was still young and warm at their faces, since it was only a couple of hours into the morning. Appa was softly grazing on grass off to the side, ignoring his eccentric human friends. Looking at the shimmering water, Aang was reminded of last night, of the lights and the song and the sound of gently shifting water. A gentle, tender smile crossed his face and he didn't care if Kuzon saw it. "I… just want to know her a little more. Honestly, Kuzon… I've never felt this way before about anyone." He gave the Fire Nation man a sharp glance. "But that doesn't mean I love her!"

Kuzon shook his head and smiled ruefully, throwing his arm around his friend's shoulders. "My poor, naïve friend," he bemoaned. "I cannot wait until irony slaps you in the face."

Aang pushed him off half-heartedly. "You might be waiting for quite a while then, and we both know you're not a patient man," he drawled with a roll of his eyes, unable to stop himself from grinning.

"Shut up, Aang. Everybody would look like an impatient nutter next to you."

They shared a companionable silence, only broken by the sporadic noises Appa made as he munched on grass. Then Kuzon quietly asked, "So… I take it that you weren't kidding, then? You're definitely staying?"

Aang remembered a mischievous smirk, the waves of dark mahogany hair, and a set of stunning blue eyes that stared into him daringly and without fear. His lips curved upwards and he answered, "I'm definitely staying."

So Aang stayed. He sent Kuzon with Appa to return to the Southern Air Temple to inform Gyatso and the council of monks of Aang's decision. Appa came back a few days later with more provisions that would last him for a few weeks in the forest and soon left again to return Kuzon back to his own home in the Fire Nation. While Appa was away, Aang built a sturdy and semi-permanent tent for himself just a few yards away from the bank of the river and beneath the shade of trees. He was always mindful to leave a red sash tied around a tree near the river so that Appa would know where he was when he returned from his trip.

Aang found the arrangement quite comely, if he was honest with himself. He knew that the council of monks had no say of what he did in his free time now that he was an adult and a fully-realised Avatar. In this peaceful era, there wasn't much for the young Avatar to do anyway; but just in case, he'd marked his location on a map that had been taken to Gyatso. If they ever needed to contact him for any emergencies, they knew where he was and would be able to send a messenger to him.

Living in a tent and eating the barest amount of food one could ration (and eventually forage) wasn't everyone's cup of tea, but for an Air Nomad, it was almost second nature. He wasn't a stranger to travel and sleeping without a bed; in fact, he enjoyed the experience of living on the barest of necessities. It produced a pure feeling of existence, stripped down to the bare essentials, and it was peaceful.

It also helped that he was a firebender and being out in the cold was no problem for him at all.

The first few weeks of his stay in the forest—which he'd found out was unnamed and unclaimed—he was busy with setting up his temporary home and sorting his provisions. Appa would stay and keep him company but he was free to fly anywhere he saw fit; like the Air Nomads, sky bison were drifters as well. Aang would visit the rivers and the lakes in the hope of seeing Katara again, but for two weeks she never appeared before him. It disheartened him, since the reason why he didn't want to leave in the first place—even for a few days—was because he wanted to tell her that he would be staying. He wanted to ask her if she was planning to stay here as well. Did she even live here, or had she just been passing through? He hoped with all his heart that she was still here. Spirits were usually tied down to a specific location but Katara seemed so… like him that Aang sometimes forgot that she wasn't human. The letter he'd received from Gyatso on the matter of nymphs was barely helpful either—they really were quite the mysterious creatures.

It was during the third week of his stay that he finally saw Katara again.

He had been meditating by the river in the afternoon and it was just turning into dusk. Feeling his stomach rumble, telling him that it was time to eat supper, he brought himself out of his self-induced trance and blinked open his eyes.

When he yelped and fell back at the sight of Katara peering at him from the bank of the river, he couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu. "Spirits! Oh, sorry, I mean—Katara! You frightened me!"

The sun was just setting and it was creating wonderful patterns of colour against the sky and the water. Aang blushed and resolutely kept his eyes on Katara's face and away from the wet, white cloth that clung to her body. Katara herself didn't seem to mind her state of dress and she stared at Aang openly, intensely curious. "Hello, Aang."

"Hi," Aang spoke quietly. He'd wanted to see her again for so long but right now his mind had been conveniently erased of any semi-intelligent thought.

"You're still here," Katara said, and her tone was not malicious or hostile, but inquisitive. "Your other friend has gone and so has your giant beast. For now. But you're still here."

Aang chuckled nervously and waved at her. "Yup, still here. I hope I'm not being a bother."

"Surprisingly, you're not," Katara mused, looking away from him finally to peer at his makeshift home that was partially visible behind the wall of trees. "In fact, if it weren't for all your human items, you would be able to pass as a forest spirit inhabiting this place. You're as silent as a ghost—when you're not calling out for me, anyway—and you take care not to leave a mark or defile the forest with your habits. You haven't even hunted any of the animals."

"I'm a vegetarian," Aang supplied helpfully. But halfway through her speech, he had been steadily growing a blush. "So you've… been watching me?"

Katara returned her gaze onto him and Aang's breath caught in his throat at the sight of such striking blue. "Of course," she answered, grinning. "You're quite the interesting Avatar to be camping out here for leisure."

Something clicked in Aang's mind and he couldn't help but pout. "So you heard me when I was calling out to you, right? Why didn't you come?"

Katara casually spun in the water, making waves and ripples at her command. "I wasn't sure what your plans were," she said, not looking at him. "I've honestly been quite confused with you."

"If you were confused, then you should have just talked to me," Aang quipped. "I've wanted to see you again for a while."

The water nymph stilled and stared at him. "So why are you staying here? Why haven't you left?"

Aang anticipated these questions but that didn't make him any less nervous to answer. "It's because of you," he said quietly, avoiding her eyes. "I just… I don't know. I wanted to know you better. I've never met anyone like you."

Since Aang was looking away, he didn't see the tint of colour that spotted her cheeks. "So you've never met any of my kind before?" she asked, her tone careful. "You've never met any other nymphs?"

The Avatar shook his head. "I've been to plenty of forests and rivers and lakes—miles and miles away from any human towns—and never once have I met a nymph." At the lack of a response, Aang glanced at her. He was alarmed by the carefully guarded expression she wore and he hastily tried to fix whatever mistake he'd just made. "Uh, I mean, I don't think I've met another nymph before. They definitely didn't leave the same impact on me that you did."

Her eyes widened and Aang blushed. Spirits, he hated this. He felt like an awkward teenager again. But whatever he did must have been the right thing to do because Katara then smiled at him softly and laughed. "You're really sweet," she said warmly. "But you should leave soon. There's nothing here for you."

'There's you,' Aang thought, but he figured that he'd embarrassed himself enough for today. "I want to stay," he said instead, smiling brightly. "I like it here and I like spending time with you."

Katara sank into the water so that only her head bobbed above the surface. "I'm not that interesting," she said dismissively. "You'll get bored eventually."

"Want a bet?" Aang asked, and the mischief that sparked in his eyes made her lift an eyebrow. Aang grinned at her lopsidedly.

She slowly returned his smirk with an answering one of her own. She demurely tugged a strand of hair behind one of her pointed ears and said innocently, "It's not wise to challenge a nymph to a game—you're sure to lose." Then she flicked her fingers and a splash of water from the river hit his face, sending him spluttering onto his back. When he recovered from the sneak attack, his ears were ringing with her laughter and she was nowhere to be seen.

Aang stared at the water and a wide grin stretched across his face.

He conveniently forgot to tell her that he never lost at games either.

The days passed, and with every passing day the story of a monk and the water nymph began to unfurl like the blossoming of a panda lily.

Day 23:

When Aang saw Katara again, he was washing his clay bowl in the river. She, like all the other times, simply just appeared out of the blue—quietly and without warning. Aang did well not to jump this time, clearly understanding that while she didn't intend to frighten him—it was just the natural way she moved—his reactions surely amused her and he wanted to appear at least a little bit mature.

"Hello, Katara," Aang greeted brightly, always happy to see her and his heart always fluttering pleasantly in her presence.

She didn't return his greeting right away. She just quirked an eyebrow at him and said, "You're really planning on staying, aren't you?"

The monk's cheery disposition was not dampened in the slightest. "Yup! It's really nice here. I guess we'll be neighbours for a while."

Katara gave him a strange look—one he could not decipher—but then she looked away and said, "The leaves that you took from a plant today—the one with the ragged edges—are poisonous. I suggest you don't make that into tea."

Aang's eyes widened and he looked alarmingly back at the kettle pot he'd been boiling the leaves in near his camp. "Oh! Wow, thanks for that! I thought—" But when he looked back at her again, she was already gone, as silently and as abruptly as her entrance.

Day 30:

Katara was watching him as he sat by the riverbank again, crossed-legged and eyes closed.

"… You mediate a lot, you know," she suddenly commented.

To her surprise, Aang's lips twitched and he answered with a hum, "Mmhmm."

"It doesn't seem like a lot of fun. All you do is… sit still."

"Ah, but I'm not only sitting still. I'm listening to nature and pondering the mysteries of the universe."

"You can do that without being so boring, you know."

"I find it fun."

"… You're a strange one, mortal."

Day 35:

"I have a question for you, Katara."

"What?"

"How do you style your hair? I mean, it's always so pretty, and you always have these flowers in them. I see you diving in and out of water and I just can't understand how your hair doesn't get all tangled up, and how the flowers keep in place, or how—"

"Aang."

"Yes?"

"Spirit, remember? We don't need to obey the mortal laws if we do not wish to."

"Oh. Right."

"You silly Avatar."

Day 40:

Aang sent a blast of fire into the air as he completed the final step of a firebending form. When he was finished, he took in a deep breath and brought his hands to his centre, properly finishing it. When he turned around, he wasn't surprised to see a certain water nymph watching him from the riverbank. "Hey, Katara!" he greeted with his usual cheerful smile, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his forearm and grimacing about how disgusting he must look.

But Katara's gaze didn't seem disgusted; in fact, she seemed transfixed, and her face was a little red. Aang wondered if it was because she appeared before him in the day time—she usually only visited at night, since she was more comfortable beneath a moon. "Why do you still train?" she asked him with a familiar tilt of her head.

"I'm the Avatar," Aang said, kneeling by the river close to her and splashing some water onto his face to cool down. "I have to keep training so I don't grow slack. Besides, it feels good to sweat a little. I can't always just sit around, otherwise I'd get fat." He flashed Katara a playful grin but quirked an eyebrow when she avoided his eyes.

"… You seem to like to train without your shirt and monk sashes," she mumbled.

Aang looked down at himself. Yes, he was indeed topless. "Well, yeah—it gets pretty hot and I tend to sweat a lot, especially if I'm earth or firebending." At the silence, he began to grow self-conscious and a blush began to creep onto his cheeks. "Do you… often watch me train?"

The reaction was instantaneous: Katara's face lit up like a tomato. "Only because I'm curious about the other bending forms!" she protested loudly. Then, embarrassed, she dove into the river and went away, creating a large splash in her wake that left Aang soaking and his heart thudding madly.

Day 44:

"I told you that you shouldn't challenge me to a water fight."

"I have a feeling you enjoyed that a bit too much. Ow."

"Sorry, I got carried away a little. It's been a while since I've let myself go like that. But I do hope that you've learned your lesson. Avatar or not, you'll never master water like I have."

"I most certainly did learn my lesson. That's why I want to ask you something…"

"What is it?"

"Can you teach me?"

"…"

"Please? You're amazing, and I want to learn from you."

"… Okay, fine. But only because that'll mean we get to spar more often. It's actually quite fun."

"Great!"

"Now get in the river and let's start with your terribly flawed octopus stance…"

Day 50:

Aang was sitting on a rock on top of one of the smaller waterfalls in the forest. He was facing the open air in front of him, unfrightened by the drop. He let the waves and the sound of crashing water soothe him, accepting their offer to listen to their music. Katara was with him too, watching him from the side as she leaned against one of the other rocks in the water. They said nothing to each other even though they were aware of each other's presence; they simply played a game of silence as they listened to nature's melody.

Day 53:

When Katara visited his campsite that day, she was instantly aware of a foreign aroma filling the air. She spied Aang next to a… She honestly didn't know what it was. He'd clearly bended the earth to form some sort of mound, but when Katara looked closely, she also spied fire flaming inside the earth beneath what looked like an iron pot. She didn't leave the river so she waited and stared, trying to figure out what he was doing while trying not to drool at the scent. Aang looked like he was concentrating deeply at whatever it was inside his furnace and Katara, bored with waiting and intensely curious, called out his name.

Right on cue, Aang whipped his head around and gave Katara his signature boyish smile. "Katara! You're just in time! It's nearly done."

The nymph leaned against the riverbank and asked, "What's nearly done?"

"Hold on for a few more minutes; you'll see!"

Katara wasn't a naturally patient sort but, after spending so much time with the bizarre monk, he began to rub off on her. So she waited, trying to identify the aroma in the air. It was like… berries. Roasting berries and some sort of sweet bread. Luckily she didn't have to wait for long and she watched intensely as Aang took out the pot, blew on it, and then slid something onto a wooden plate. He burned himself slightly—Katara knew when he yelped—but that didn't deter him from running towards her with that newly-baked something in his hands.

"I've made a traditional Air Nomad fruit pie!" Aang said triumphantly, brandishing his pie for her to see. It was a little lopsided, but it was crisp and colourful. "I had Appa go to my home in the Southern Air Temple and he came back with the ingredients needed to make one! I really love them—I hope I made them as well as Monk Gyatso does."

They'd talked about Monk Gyatso before and Katara smiled gently. Aang always looked so happy whenever he reflected on his father figure. "It smells wonderful, Aang," she said honestly. "I've never smelt anything so good before!"

"I doubt you've tasted this kind of thing before either, since the fruits I've used can't be found in this forest," he said with a laugh. Then he sobered up a little and blushed slightly. "I don't know what nymphs eat," he mumbled. "And I'm not entirely sure if spirits can eat—actually, I should have asked you about this before. Urgh, I'm so stupid."

When Katara realised what he was trying to get out, her eyes widened with surprise. "You made this for me?" she asked incredulously.

"Made it for us," he corrected. He put the plate on the grass. "I wanted to share some of my home with you since you've shared your home with me."

The sincerity in his eyes struck her deeply and she felt something inside her flutter. She glanced between Aang's earnest, nervous face and the pie, and she felt her fondness for the monk grow. "Wow. Thank you, Aang." There was a beat of silence, and then she asked quietly, "… Can I try some?"

"You most certainly can! It'll be my pleasure!" Aang responded immediately, returning to his happy disposition. Together they shared the freshly-baked fruit pie and, even though they didn't say it, they both found that this meal was the best one they've ever had.

Day 60:

"Katara? Were you alright? You were gone for a while…"

"Sorry, Aang. For some reason, I just wasn't feeling very well."

"… Was it the pie? Was it because you ate something not natural to your forest or river, and you got sick?"

"… Yes."

"… I'm such an idiot. I'm sorry, Katara. You shouldn't have eaten it just to make me happy. I'm sorry."

"I wanted to! It smelt good! Don't look so down, Aang. I've never had anything so delicious in my life. It was worth it!"

"Right…"

There was an interlude of silence. Then:

"Sometimes I forget that you're not human."

Then an answering whisper:

"… You make me forget sometimes too."

Day 62:

Katara usually didn't leave the waters of the river or lakes. As a water nymph, she was more comfortable in her element; she even confessed to him that being on land made her feel insecure and unsafe. So when Aang woke up one morning to find her on land gently patting Appa's head, he was at a loss for words.

And when she turned and smiled at him with the soft sunlight dancing in the droplets of water in her hair, he realised then and there that he was completely and utterly in love with her.

Day 65:

The water nymph had grown to trust the nomad monk completely and was no longer afraid of leaving the waters to walk around his camp.

"I feel safe with you," she told him with a playful grin. "And I'm sure that even on land, I can out waterbend the great Avatar any day."

Despite her talk, however, she was still weaker on land and spent most of her time in water. And although Aang was delighted beyond words whenever she took a stroll with him through the forest or whenever she helped him forage for food, a part of him was relieved that she could only spend so much time on the surface.

After all, Aang found himself greatly distracted whenever she was on land. He suspected that it had something to do with her legs; he was able to see more of her than he ever could when she was half-hidden beneath water.

It was definitely not good for his little monk heart.

Day 73:

Katara watched him from her usual spot at the riverbank as he packed his equipment on Appa. He felt her stare and with a hand on the sky bison's leg, he smiled at her reassuringly. "Don't worry, Katara. I'll only be gone for a couple of weeks, maybe even less than that! You won't even notice that I'm gone!"

They both knew that that was a lie. The monk and the water nymph had been spending nearly every day with each other and she would definitely notice if he wasn't there to greet her mornings with his customary smile.

"Be careful, Aang," Katara said instead, her tone guarded.

"I will be careful; I'm sure to impress everyone with my new waterbending skills, that's for sure," he grinned. "It's just a small scuffle in the Earth Kingdom. It's probably nothing."

Katara didn't reply and simply watched impassively as Aang airbended his way onto Appa's head. Feeling his owner settle himself, the sky bison stood on his six legs with a ready rumble. Aang took a hold of the bison's reins but he hesitated for a moment—he paused and looked at Katara again, looking so sad and lonely in the river waters. "I'll be back," he whispered, just loud enough for her to hear. "I promise."

The water nymph refused to acknowledge the fear that lodged itself in her heart. "Goodbye, Aang," she answered quietly.

He grinned. "Not goodbye, Katara. Never goodbye."

Then with a "Yip yip" the sky bison was off, soaring through the skies and flying further and further away from that small clearing that the Avatar had lately called his home. Katara watched as they faded away into the sky and when she lowered her eyes, she felt her heart grow heavy at the empty space where his tent and all his meagre belongings used to be. All that was left him—his only mark in this forest—was the red sash that he'd tied around one of the trees.

She looked away and faded into the depths of the water, pretending that she wasn't lonely and it would just be like the old times, before she met an awkward monk beneath a bright, glowing moon.

Day 74:

She came to his camp hoping that him leaving had just been a bad dream.

She told himself that she didn't miss him.

Day 80:

She danced beneath a full moon, fully intending to forget about mortal concerns and to just lose herself in nature.

But as she danced, she was reminded of the night that Aang and she met.

She wondered if she would ever feel as free and as careless as she did before he came into her life, and she thought she resented him a little for making her feel this way.

Day 90:

The first time she hugged him was when he came back. She didn't even care that it was in the middle of the day or that she was dripping wet and likely to soak his robes, but neither of them minded anyway. They embraced and didn't let go of each other; eventually, Aang said hoarsely against her hair, "I'm home."

At the sound of his voice, Katara silently admitted that she had been telling herself lies from the moment that he'd left: she'd missed him deeply after all and she could never, ever resent him for making her feel this way.

Day 91:

"… You're burned."

Aang stilled at his routine bending form and glanced at her in confusion. "Huh?"

"There's a burn on your back."

He tried to twist around to see but he couldn't quite sight the wound. "Oh. Really?" He chuckled wryly. "That would probably explain why it was so uncomfortable to sleep on my back."

Katara didn't seem to be as amused as he was. "You were attacked by firebenders. Why did they attack you?"

The Avatar avoided her eyes as he answered, "Just some social unrest between the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom. Don't worry about it; as the peacekeeper Avatar, I did my job flawlessly and everything's fine!"

"I'm not worried about foreign nations and their disputes. I'm worried about you. Come into the water, Aang. Let me heal you. Your form had been sloppy and you've been moving slowly ever since you came back."

"I'm fine, Katara."

"… Please don't hide your pain from me."

Aang smiled at her tenderly. "It's not as if I can, apparently."

"That's right—so come into the water already."

"… Yes ma'am."

Day 94:

Aang was woken up some time just before the break of dawn by a small whisper of "Aang?"

He opened his eyes at the sound of her voice—he had always been a light sleeper—and was surprised to see her poking her head innocently into his tent. As his grogginess was suddenly replaced by awareness, he sat up quickly and tossed the water nymph a concerned look. "Katara. Are you alright? Is everything okay?"

She was looking at anywhere but him, which Aang found strange. There was nothing in his tent besides him and his quilt. "Everything's fine…" she said slowly. "Just… I have a favour I want to ask of you." Then she abruptly walked into his tent and sat down right in front of him.

Aang had relaxed slightly at the knowledge that there was no danger, but her sudden movement caused him to stiffen again. He felt himself blush at their proximity. His tent was small and definitely not made for two people; they were so close to each other that all Aang had to do was shift forward a little and their knees would be touching. He tried to ease the rapid beating of his heart by telling himself that Katara, although definitely teasing and playful in nature, was more naïve than he was; she didn't know what it could mean for a man and a woman to be alone in one's sleeping space. But ironically, the thought made his face burn even more. He hoped that the sun, which had barely risen, wouldn't expose the redness of his face to the nymph.

"A favour?" he asked, his voice coming out as breathless. He cleared his throat awkwardly and tried again. "A favour for you? Anything, Katara."

It may have just been the trick of light, but he could've sworn that her face was blushing furiously. Before he could confirm what his eyes were seeing, however, she turned suddenly and presented him with her back. She mumbled something and Aang, extremely confused, didn't hear her.

"I'm sorry; what?"

"… Comb my hair."

The Avatar's eyes widened to the size of saucers. "Eh?"

Katara hunched her shoulders and appeared to be curling in on herself. Aang couldn't see her face but he imagined that she was just as red as he was. "It got tangled up!" she said loudly, her voice catching a little. "Swimming around in the water all the time can do that to long hair, you know. I-I need help. And the flowers need replacing so you're going to have to help me find more and—and weave them in place."

Aang seemed to recall a time when Katara said that as a spirit, her hair wasn't slave to physical laws, but instead of voicing that out, he tactfully (and yet paradoxically dumbly) said, "… I don't have a comb."

"You don't need a comb," she said softly. "Just… use your fingers."

There was a moment of stillness where all they could hear was the twittering of morning birds. Aang didn't even dare to break the silence by breathing. He reached out to her, fingers just a touch away from the wavy locks of her hair, and he could tell without even crossing the distance that the tendrils were wet; they still shimmered with drops of water. When he looked down at his own hand, he was surprised to find it trembling slightly.

Aside from her professionally fixing his stances and their one embrace, he'd never touched her. He wondered if she knew that he'd wanted to run his fingers through her hair for a long time now. It had always fascinated him; he wanted to know how soft it was, what the texture was like, how silky it would be. He'd lost count of how many times he'd stopped himself from simple reaching out and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. He wondered if she knew his struggle, and whether it was the reason why she had offered to let him comb her hair for her.

At the stretching silence, Katara began to fidget and she suddenly said, "It's fine if you don't—"

"Okay," Aang said quickly, breathlessly. His hand was still shaking but he still didn't close the gap between them. "If that's what you want, then okay."

Aang couldn't see her face but he dearly wanted to. He wanted to know what expression she was wearing; he wanted to see her eyes. He wanted to see if her face was as pink as he imagined, wanted to see the contrast of the colour against her copper skin and her bright blue eyes. Then she spoke, breaking his musings with a quiet whisper, "… You have to want to too."

Aang's heart thudded in his chest so powerfully that he thought it would burst. In the quiet hour of morning, he confessed, "I do." Then, without giving it another thought, he finally breached the gap between them and he began carefully unpicking the flowers from her hair, placing them in a pile off to the side. Katara was stiff and unmoving at first but slowly, as Aang's gentle fingers stroked through her hair and untangled the knots, she relaxed and hummed in contentment. Her hair was just as silky as he imagined and he feared that he'd never be able to stop running his fingers through the soft tresses ever again. The small tent was filled with the scent of lilies and lotuses, heady and thick. Aang breathed it in deeply, intoxicated, because he knew that this was the scent of Katara the water nymph.

He worked in silence, the quiet between them comfortable and familiar, and he enjoyed the sighs of contentment that she released. Eventually, he finished, all the flowers and vines in a pile and her wavy locks tangle-free and gorgeously shining. Reluctantly, he pulled away, and his heart skipped a beat when Katara released a disappointed whine. Then she finally turned towards him, her eyes misty and unreadable but her lips upturned in happiness, and Aang returned her smile lovingly. She was beautiful.

"Let's go find you those flowers," he said, his voice a bit more throaty that he intended it to be. He blamed it on the morning, even though he knew that he'd been sitting there for hours just stroking her hair. He grinned lopsidedly at the nymph, his eyes sparkling. "Lucky for you, I'm an excellent flower weaver. Did you know that I was recommended to start my own jewellery business? For you, I'll make my first masterpiece."

Day 101:

"Katara, can I ask you a personal question?"

They were lying side by side, looking up at the night sky. They did this often, simply lying in the grass together to watch the stars flicker and dance. Sometimes, they would speak, their conversations a secret only between themselves and the wordless sky; at other times, they would say nothing at all, but feel as if they'd shared something deeply intimate with each other all the same.

"Of course you can, Aang," Katara answered softly, not looking away from the sky.

"… Before I came, were you all alone?"

"Of course not. You've seen the other spirits. They're spirits of the forest, although they don't really talk like you and me. They just like to float around as orbs of light but I've always had them for company."

"But what about… other nymphs? Your own kind? I've been wondering for a while and I just find it strange that you seem to be the only one here."

"… That's because I am."

"Why?"

Katara turned her head to look at him and Aang did the same. They held each other's gazes comfortably, although Aang was concerned about the slightly guarded sadness in her eyes. "You do know about nymphs, don't you, Aang?"

"A little. You're spirits personifying nature."

"Yes. But we're… more than that. I had lots of sisters before, but they've all gone away. Eventually, they found true love, and they left. Some of them had even travelled to other forests, to other rivers and lakes, to search for their soul mate. Not many people come here, Aang, even way back then. They wanted to find happiness and so… I was left behind."

"… Why did you stay?"

She looked away, back to the sky. She reached out with a hand as if she was trying to touch the moon. "Nymphs are brides," she said into the air, eyes glazed. "That was our nature—a shared dream. But it wasn't mine. I just wanted to be free. I was happy being free. What was the extent of happiness, if I had to leave the place I loved? How could I choose a mortal man above the happiness I felt when dancing beneath the naked moon? Why did I need to be a bride? How could that define me, when before I was a bride, I was water, I was the river? Why did I need to wait for a man to come find me; why did I need a man to make me happy? I was already happy. I was content. That's why I stayed."

Aang's heart was beating wildly in his chest as he stared at the side of her face. There was an ache inside him, raw and powerful, and it made his mouth dry and his hands clench. "… You know, being married isn't such a bad thing."

His comment seemed to surprise her and she turned again to look at him, her eyes wide. "What?"

Aang cursed himself for saying anything but now that the words were out, he couldn't stop. "I've been around the world, seen a lot of places, met a lot of people. There are some unhappy marriages, yes, but sometimes… I see people so happy together, so radiant and perfect, that it moves me so deeply that I need to look away. It's like they belong together and nothing could break them apart—as if their match was decided by fate."

They didn't blink; they didn't even move. His words entranced her, put a spell on them both, and they wondered if the other could hear the rapid beating of their hearts. "… That's probably what my friends found. You said that I'm the only nymph you've ever met, Aang, and yet you've travelled so much. Most nymphs aren't shy—they actively seek out people." Then she said with a slight shaking of her voice, "… I'm probably the only nymph left—the last one. I'm the only one who hasn't found that special someone."

Boom—boom—boom. Aang's heart was so loud that his ears were ringing. He felt dizzy despite not having moved an inch; he made sure to hold her gaze because it was the only anchor capable of keeping him afloat. He found himself saying, under the effects of the moon and the atmosphere and the spell of her eyes and this deep and longing ache inside of him, "… You might still find him."

Her eyes widened—such a bright, beautiful blue—and she breathed out, "Really? But… I've never even wondered what it would be like as a bride."

"Never?"

"… No."

Boom—

And then, in the wake of the sudden stillness and in the heavy silence and at the very crux of what would make or break his whole universe, Aang gathered every inch of his courage and fear and longing and desire and love and he asked, quietly, "… Would you like to be mine?"

Day 102:

The next morning, Aang mediated on top of a rock.

Katara didn't visit him that day.

Day 105:

"Katara?"

Aang looked out into the river; not even a single ripple was made.

He collapsed onto his back with a groan, his heart breaking. Shielding his eyes from the sun with his forearm, he told himself resentfully, "I'm an idiot…"

Irony hurt.

Day 110:

Aang was washing one of his robes in the river when Katara suddenly appeared and asked him again about his adventures as the Avatar. Aang answered all her questions and recounted his journeys for her amusement, their comfortable, friendly dynamic slowly easing back into place as they both avoided the topic of his proposal, his heartfelt words picked up and lost to the wind as if they'd never been uttered at all.

Day 126:

"Do you have to go?" she asked quietly, watching grimly as Aang once again packed up his stuff and moved it into Appa's saddle. It was just like the last time he needed to leave, except this time she was on the land, a hand gently stroking the fur of the sky bison's head.

"Unfortunately, yes," Aang said, just as discontent with the situation as she was. "I… don't know how long I'll be gone, this time. The letter was really bad. Apparently, the Fire Nation is on the brink of declaring war. It might take a while. I'm sorry."

Katara gnawed on her bottom lip, her heart heavy with sadness and guilt. She looked down onto the ground, feeling exposed out here in the air. "Aang… you don't need to come back."

A hand appeared and gently lifted up her chin. She was forced to look into compassionate grey eyes and a ruefully smiling face. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. Of course I need to come back. Are you trying to push me away or something?"

Katara couldn't help it. She was suddenly consumed by regret and selfishness and longing and despair. The weeks that had passed—she was not blind to his pain. She knew. She knew every time he looked at her when he thought that she wouldn't notice; she knew every time his fingers twitched as if he wanted to stroke her hair. She knew every time he told her sweet things, every time he was forced to fake a smile for her; she knew every time she saw his face that he was in pain.

Because of her.

And yet, she wanted him to stay here—in this forest, in isolation, with no one but her wicked self as company, and she hated it. She hated herself, because despite this knowledge, despite being the disease that she was to him, she didn't want him to go. She wanted him here—where he was safe from war and from firebenders that wanted to harm him, where he wouldn't leave her alone.

"Shhh, Katara, why are you crying?" Aang's thumbs tenderly wiped away the rapid stream of tears that fell from her bright blue eyes, his hands cradling her face gently. "I'm going to be okay. I'm going to come back. I promise." When he smiled at her, she recognised the pain and longing that she'd grown accustomed to seeing—and this time, she was forced to acknowledge the whole-consuming love in those deep grey eyes as well, the love that she feared but at that moment couldn't remember why. Aang leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "I love you, Katara."

And she clutched him and cried.

Day 257, the last counted day:

Katara was a spirit—immortal and forever young. She was water personified that made her home in this forest's river and lakes. She loved to sing beneath a bright white moon with her spirit companions; she loved to bend the water to her graceful movements in an age-old dance. She was happy with her life of solitude—her existence was pure and wild and free.

At least, that was how it was supposed to be.

Now she hardly ever danced and she never sung. Something was missing inside of her, a spark that had kept her spirit alive through the ages. It was an ache, chasm-wide and impossibly deep, leaving her empty and hollow; the abyss that resided inside her made the bright windows into her soul fade into a melancholy dark blue, like the still waters of a dead lake.

She could no longer keep track of the days—they had blurred together, mixed with the unfathomable loneliness and the days she'd relived again and again with a certain bald monk. On one day, she could live multiple days, reliving the weeks she'd spent with a young man who made her smile and laugh and her heart soar higher than any water she could bend into the sky. On another day, she would feel like she'd lived through an eternity of nothingness, of a life without that man. As an immortal spirit, time meant nothing to her, but that also meant that she meant nothing to time. It was not kind to her. It confused and angered her, made her lose track of the days, the weeks, the years; how long had it really been since he had been gone? She could no longer say.

She had permanently settled herself against the tree with that single, red sash tied around it. She lived her days there, yearning and taking comfort in the only thing she had left of him. He hadn't been a dream; the time they spent together had been short, yes, but she refused to let it be forgotten and twisted in the cold sea of her eternity.

She may have lost track of the days but she would wait. For him, she realised, she would wait the rest of her immortal days.

There was a shift in the air, a disturbance in the spiritual realm. The animals of the forest flew and fled, the birds screeching in fear and warning of danger. Katara acknowledged it but did not open her eyes. She ignored a small twinge of pain as something in her forest was disrupted, but she did not move. It was too far away. She remained seated at the tree and continued to wait, swearing that whatever threatened to break her vigil was going to pay a thousand deaths if it ever came close enough to endanger this tree.

But then the disturbance passed and the pain trickled away. Shortly after that—or had it been short? She couldn't be sure—she suddenly felt a gust of wind against her face. For the first time in an age, she finally opened her eyes.

And there he was, appeared before her suddenly and without warning, a trait that she was guilty of and one he'd apparently adopted. His clothes were singed and there were awful burns on his body, and one of his arms seemed to be at a strange angle. But despite himself and his condition, despite the dirt and blood and pain, there was a tired smile on his face as he gazed down at the water nymph sitting by the tree.

"Sorry I'm late," he croaked, his voice rough and wheezing but still kind, still undeniably warm. "But it's over. I needed it to be over." His eyes misted over. "I couldn't let him destroy this forest. I couldn't let him… get to you."

And when he collapsed, she was there to catch him, wrapping them both in a cloak of water that held them together just as surely as her arms held him close.

The wait was over and they were both finally home.

When Aang opened his eyes next, he didn't know how long he'd been out for. He found himself staring at the ceiling of his tent and for a crazy moment, he wondered if he'd just been dreaming the whole war and he was still in his home at the forest. But it couldn't have been a dream because his bones felt age-weary and the horrors he'd seen could never have been a product of his imagination. Slowly, he sat up, realising pleasantly that most of his wounds were healed. The heavy burns on his chest and arms were nearly completely gone and when he moved his left arm, he only felt a little residue ache from the fracture. For the first time in over a year, he felt safe. He wished he could just lie back against his futon and sleep for the rest of his days, but he had an even greater desire to stand up and find a particular water nymph with certain blue eyes that had haunted him every time he closed his own.

With shaking limbs, he got himself onto his feet and slowly walked out of the tent. The bright sunlight of the afternoon was nearly blinding to him and he squinted his eyes against it. His surroundings became clearer as his eyes adjusted and once he got his bearings, he felt like he'd just stepped back in time. Everything was the same. The river, the trees, the grass—everything was untouched by the horrors of the war. Aang felt himself tiredly smile. Good. With a deep breath, he took in the freshness of the air and felt it replenish his soul; he'd never been so tired of breathing and only tasting ash.

Aang began to look for the nymph and wasn't surprised to find her in the river, dancing just as he first found her, except this time it was beneath a sun instead of a moon. She was still beautiful— radiant, even; the sunlight played with the colour in the water, highlighted every droplet that glistened in the air and against her copper skin. She moved gracefully, in tune with all that was around her; pure, untouched, beautiful. He felt himself falling in love with her all over again. In fact, he had a moment of clarity when he realised that he'd been in love with her from the very start.

"Katara."

She slowly turned at the sound of his voice and Aang's eyes widened when he recognised tears falling down her cheeks. She let the water drop into the river unceremoniously and without another word, she leapt out of the water with a splash and dashed towards the monk. Aang opened his arms automatically and she fell into him, clutching at his bare back and burying her face against his chest, shaking. Aang held her closely, his arms enveloping her small frame as if she belonged there—they fit so perfectly. He nuzzled his nose against the wavy tendrils of her hair, inhaling her scent deeply. He'd missed her. So much. Her scent of lily and lotus filled his senses completely and it was like the past year faded away, his corruption wiped clean and the heaviness in his heart uplifting. Her water healed his wounds but she herself was the only remedy to his spirit, and his arms tightened. In a voice complete with worship and adoration, he muttered into her hair, "Katara. Katara."

She pulled back slightly to beam up at him, her eyes bright and blue and just how he remembered them to be—no, actually, even better than he remembered. "Aang," she responded in a whisper, with the same level of adoration and open love. She'd never said his name in such a way before and Aang's heart skipped a beat, just like the old days. It really was like he'd never left.

But something had changed. He could feel it, and he was even more sure when Katara wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him down and lean their foreheads together intimately. Aang was drowning in her gaze again and she didn't look away when she grinned and asked shyly, "Can I still be your bride?"

Aang's eyes widened and his heart nearly soared out of his throat—he hadn't been expecting that at all and he could only stare at her gobsmacked. Her soft laughter slowly brought him out of his shock, and while a part of him was filled with joy, there was another part that was wary. He returned her smile sadly, keeping their foreheads connected. "You sure you're not saying that just because you missed me?"

Katara recognised the pain in his eyes, the vulnerable, wary hope in them, and in response she held his cheeks in her hands and littered his face with feather-light kisses, gently pecking every inch of skin while carefully avoiding his lips. She continued to do this wordlessly until he slowly relaxed and his arms stopped trembling around her waist. He slowly fell to the grass and she followed him to straddle his lap, finishing her shower of kisses with a peck on his nose and a soft giggle. When she looked into his eyes again they were bright and shining, full of affection and laughter, the darkness obliterated. She leaned her forehead against his again and they grinned at each other, their faces flushed pink.

"What changed?" Aang asked her in a whisper that reminded them both of the secret conversations beneath the moon.

"Nothing," Katara said honestly. But she did allow herself a rueful smile as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I just… stopped being afraid." She nuzzled her cheek against his tenderly, pleasantly surprised when she felt the soft scratches of a budding beard on his usually clean-shaven face. She found that she liked it. "From the beginning, I was a spirit. A bizarre one, I admit, but that was what I was. I was meant to spend an eternity with nature, to have a close affinity with water. So, at one point, I must have had a clear purpose when I decided to live in the mortal world. Over time, I guess I just… forgot. You made me remember."

Aang, while enjoying the feel of her against him and unfathomably happy with this turn of events, was also really confused with her words. "Katara?"

She grinned at him, her face open and sincere. "At one point, I knew that an immortal life was not for me. I desired to be mortal. That's why I came here. I desired to be mortal so that I could spend the rest of my days with the one person I loved with all my heart, because I understood that a lifetime of happiness was worth more than an eternity alone. I—"

"Wait, Katara," Aang interrupted, pulling back slightly to grip her arms. He was growing steadily alarmed. "What are you talking about? Turning mortal?"

She nodded but was growing a little confused as well; a part of her was disappointed that Aang didn't appear to be as elated with her revelation as she first thought he would be. However, she excused him because he was a naïve human, Avatar or not, and the explanation sat well with her. "Of course," she said out loud when she realised that he was still uncomprehending. "When a nymph chooses the man she wants to be with for the rest of her life, she turns mortal for him. That's how it works." When she tried to calm him down with a smile, she realised quickly that her assurances weren't working.

There was conflict in Aang's eyes as a myriad of thoughts shot through his mind. He shook his head, breaking eye contact with her; his hands, however, still maintained their grip on her arms. In fact, they actually held on tighter as if they were rebelling against the mental order to let her go. "I… didn't know. I just… thought that… I didn't really…"

Katara tried to shush him, touching his face again to urge him to look at her. "Aang, it's okay. That's—"

"I can't do that to you," he suddenly choked. When their eyes connected, his were pained. "Katara, I can't. You're… You're a spirit. You're divine and pure. To turn you mortal… is to corrupt you, to corrupt your essence, your energy. You're perfect as you are—perfect—and to bring you completely into the mortal world, into my world, will introduce you to death and I can't—"

But with all the patience of an age-old soul, she simply pressed a finger to his lips to silence him. She gave him an indulgent smile, understanding and fond. "You know, Aang," she said lightly, cupping his face and cradling him close. "We make an odd pair, you and I. You, a monk, and me, a water nymph. All your life, you've been striving to be what I am—to be spiritually free, to severe your connections with this world and achieve enlightenment. As a monk of the Air Nomads, you have lived as spirits live in this mortal place." She placed a hand over his heart. "You slept on our earth, ate our fruits, swam in our rivers. I told you once that you could be mistaken as a spirit and I mean it." Her blue eyes gleamed and Aang was trapped in her gaze and in her voice. "I, on the other hand," she said, placing her other hand over her own heart, "have always wanted to be mortal. I want to love. I want to make the earth my home. I want to laugh and cry and be a mother of children; I want to be free, not be trapped here—I want to live and die by the side of the one I love, walk where you walk, fly where you fly, without having to worry about being left behind. Freedom is out there, beyond this forest. I want to see the world... by your side. Aang, don't you see? There's nothing that I would want more than to spend a lifetime with you."

Aang couldn't take her sincerity; he couldn't face the kindness in her eyes, the promise of a future he saw. So instead, he held her closely and buried his face against her neck. In her arms, he trembled. "But… how can I let you sacrifice yourself? How can I let you forsake your own spirit to live a limited life with a mortal man, when all my life I've been striving for the opposite, like you said? I'm... not worthy. I'm not worthy."

"You are," Katara whispered, holding him tightly. "You're being stupid right now, but you are. I'm not forsaking anything, Aang. Sacrificing eternity to spend the rest of my mortal life with the person I love isn't much of a sacrifice at all." She felt tears prick her eyes. "I learned that… when I thought you weren't coming back," she confessed quietly. "Eternity… is too long without you, Aang. Too long. It… hurts." She pulled back and looked at him, and they found themselves once more at the crux of their universe, where everything was balanced on the tip of a knife and the next few words would change everything and tip the scales once more. "I love you," she said. "Aang, I love you." She gripped him tightly, her hands shaking. "I love you."

She couldn't stop repeating the sentence and she couldn't stop her tears; they just flowed out of her like waterfalls, powerful and profound and as natural as the sun being chased by the moon. Aang felt his chest swell and he leaned forward to capture her lips with his, sharing with her their first kiss. "I love you too," he murmured against her skin, his eyes softly shut. "I love you too." He loved her with all his heart; the year without her had been torture, and the prospect of losing her if he failed to stop that tyrant had frightened him to his very core. His love for her had given him strength, enough to stop a war. He wanted nothing more than for her to be happy and safe, and while a large part of him still doubted the moral righteousness of letting the last water nymph sacrifice her own immortality, he'd made a promise that he would never leave her alone. He could never leave her alone again and, just as much as she did, he wanted her by his side always.

He opened his eyes to stare into hers and he smiled brightly, all doubt erased from his mind and nothing but joy in his heart. Then he spoke the words that were once lost to the air, "Katara, the last water nymph… will you do me the honor of being my bride?"

She tackled him and laughed, her answer slipping from her lips as smoothly as water flowing downstream, "Yes. Yes. It took you long enough. Do you know how long I've waited for you?"

Aang grinned and held her close. "Sorry to keep you waiting. But I have the rest of our lives to make it up to you."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

And then they sealed the deal with a kiss.

Thus was the story of a young man who would have been the perfect monk, if he hadn't crossed paths with a mythical creature who just wanted to be a mortal girl. The promise was kept, and the days following blurred into a blissful eternity.