Promise, 2
For #11 - gardenia
When Aang arrived at the healer's tent – a dry, warm thing that smelled of earth and herbs and incense – Sokka was laying Katara down on a low bed and the healer, an old, bent woman, was leaning over her. The woman, whom Aang recognized as one of the Earth Kingdom healers that had followed the army to war, was pulling clothing from Katara's body, peeling it back from the sticky area around the wound.
"Arrow?" she asked, not bothering to look up as she began to reach for her tools.
Aang came in out of the rain and managed to find his voice in time to answer, "Yes."
"Left the arrowhead in," she observed, noting the few inches of broken shaft protruding to the left of Katara's navel. She gave him a grim look and muttered, "Good boy," before turning to a low table to collect a vial and few pouches.
Aang nodded, because he had lost his voice again, and Sokka laid a hand on his shoulder.
"I smell gardenias," Katara murmured, turning her head to glance blearily at her surroundings. "And lavender…"
"Incense," the healer answered gently, laying a hand across Katara's forehead. "To help keep you calm, dear. One of you," she said to the boys, who were now standing idly by the entrance, "the small one, help her drink this. You," she pointed to Sokka, "get her sitting up and hold her still."
Numbly, Aang moved to the bedside and took the small earthenware vial the healer offered. He knelt by Katara's pillow, and touched her cheek. Cloudy blue eyes opened and made a desperate attempt to focus before falling shut again. He called her name.
"Just tip it down her throat," the healer said when Katara didn't respond. "She'll swallow it, or choke and then swallow it."
Aang's hands felt like lead as they uncorked the tiny bottle. Gently, slowly, he eased an arm under Katara's shoulders, raised her head as best he could, and poured a thick green liquid into her open mouth. She coughed, and started, and swallowed and then her breathing evened and her eyes glazed over until she was staring at the ceiling with an expression of the utmost boredom on her face.
Sokka took Aang's place, wrapping his arms around his sister and pulling her up to lean against him.
"Your friend is very lucky, you know," the healer said as she dabbed a dark brown paste on the area around the wound. "Another inch over and she might not be alive right now."
Aang looked up, hope in his eyes, before the woman continued, "Of course, that doesn't mean she hasn't already bled out." Then she took a hold of the arrow shaft with both of her slim bony hands, and gave it a very tiny, gentle wiggle. Katara let out a deep, sudden breath and froze.
"All right," the woman said, looking at Sokka. "Hold tight, now. Don't let her squirm."
She began to push the arrow shaft farther into Katara's side, her left hand guiding the arrowhead, the palm of her right against the broken end of the shaft.
Katara let out a high, keening wail, and Aang stumbled outside the tent and sat down heavily in the mud. He clamped his hands over his ears to block out the sounds of the pain and tried to think about what her voice sounded like when she was strong and well. She would laugh and say it was nothing, and open the folds of her tunic to show him the soft, unmarred plain of her stomach. She would reach for his hand and lay it against her belly, fingertips against dark skin, and lean forward to kiss him when his cheeks grew warm and he began to stammer.
He didn't realize he was crying until a pair of feet splashed into view, spraying mud across his shoes and breeches.
AN: So... I'm feeling kinda blah about this one, though I am rather proud of the mild erotica in the second to last paragraph. Haha. Don't expect any smut from me, you dirty fangirl!.. I haven't gotten nearly enough reviews for that!
God, I'm such a review whore!