So, after yesterday's extremely sad, depressing one-shot, I decided to write something happier, but not entirely fluff. If you haven't noticed, my writing always tends to default to something serious, and that's because it's much easier to write something serious than something funny. But that's beside the point. Enjoy! Also, I did have to adjust Katara and Aang's age a bit in this one, please forgive me. Another thing, I hope I was pretty obvious in implying what has happened before the story, but if for some reason I'm not, feel free to PM me and I'll let you now. :D
The Mark Of An Airbender
This was Katara's favorite time, after her breathing returned to normal, after her heartbeat had slowed, and her and Aang were just laying side by side, their fingers entwined, staring up at the ceiling. They didn't need to speak, they were content just being with each other.
While everything leading up to this moment was by no means boring, Katara enjoyed the silence and the peace. She turned her head a little bit, and stared at Aang, who was looking up at the ceiling, his breathing slow and even. Katara's eyes slid down his body, studying it, appreciating it in ways that was impossible earlier. His chest was muscular, sculpted, shaped from the years of training that Aang had gone through after the war had ended, five years ago. His legs were strong and his tattoos highlighted his calve muscles, and Katara didn't understand why Aang ever needed to fly on his glider with such strong legs.
As Katara's eyes traveled back to Aang's face, she found herself wanting to touch his tattoos. She had never truly touched them, only brushed them on the way to something other body part, and she found herself wanting to quite badly. And so she sat up, abruptly, causing Aang to fall out of his peaceful stupor. He looked at Katara, confused. She stared back down at him, her hair tickling her bare back. "Sorry," she said quietly. Aang sat up slowly, stretching a bit, before tucking a stray lock of Katara's hair behind her ear. "It's okay," he said, staring into her eyes. Katara stared back, and momentarily forgot why she had sat up so suddenly. Aang had a way with doing that, pulling Katara out of reality and into their own, perfect little bubble. She shook her head quickly, and returned to the present.
"I was just wondering if I could, uh, touch your tattoos," she said, feeling rather silly, but not awkward. This was Aang, after all, and there was nobody else she felt more comfortable around. Aang hesitated, before breaking into a smile, and chuckling a bit. "Of course, Katara," he said, and took her hand, place it on his forehead, where his arrow ended. The scar was colder than the rest of Aang's body, and it felt slightly raised. Katara traced the outline of the tattoo, before sliding her hand down across Aang's scalp, and down his back. Aang closed his eyes as Katara rubbed her hands across his back, her fingers light as air, as she felt every inch of the tattoo, running her hands to his waist and back up his back.
Katara rested her hand for a moment on the scar in the middle of Aang's back, a constant reminder that Aang was not invincible, that he was human, that he was mortal. Though it happened almost six years ago, the scar still shown, bright and red, fresh. Katara had tried to make it fade away, but the scar was persistent, unable to be fully healed. In a way, it helped Katara, helped her remember all it took to get to where she was now.
Katara moved on to Aang's arms, turning them over and following the arrows all the way to Aang's hands. Aang's hands were one of her most favorite things about Aang. They were soft, and strong, and fit into hers perfectly. She loved watching his hands when he was bending, the way they moved so effortlessly, so fluidly, it was beautiful. She touched the tattoos on Aang's legs next, and was surprised to see that they weren't raised, it was more like they were a part of Aang's skin, as if he had been born with them. Katara supposed it had to do with the fact that Aang's legs weren't exposed as much as his arms were, and whilst being covered by some sort of garment, they had fused and broken down into Aang's skin, over time. Katara liked it.
When she was finished, she laid back down on the bed, and Aang opened his eyes, gazing down at her. Katara didn't say anything as Aang gazed into her eyes. The two stayed like that for what seemed like forever, and that was okay.
Out of the blue, about fifteen minutes later, Aang spoke. "Have you ever thought about having children?" he asked. The question startled Katara, she was not prepared for it. She knew the answer was 'yes', of course, but the topic had never come up between the two before. She supposed that they were old enough now, seeing as she was already nineteen, and Aang was about to be eighteen years old, but still. She wanted nothing more than to spend her life with Aang, and she knew that children were going to be a part of that, because she knew that it was Aang's responsibility to repopulate the air nomads.
Katara sat up slowly, pushing her hair behind her shoulders. "Of course I have," she answered truthfully. Aang, blushing a bit, looked down at his hands. "Would you ever, er, consider having them with me?" he muttered. Katara smiled at his embarrassment, taking his hands in hers. "Aang, it's not even a question. I don't have any plans on spending my life with anyone else," she said. Aang looked up at her, smiling deeply. Katara's heart swelled with such love for the Avatar at the moment that she lost her train of thought. After a brief hesitation, she remembered what she was going to say.
"However," she said. "Before we can have children, you need to do something for me," Aang tilted his head, leaning in closer to Katara. "I'll do anything for you," he said, his voice full of conviction and love. Katara chuckled, grinning. She reached her hand up to touch his arrow again. "You're going to have to marry me,"