174 AG

Opal walked into her old bedroom. They had kept it as it was, it had even been dusted. If not for the fact that it didn't smell like her anymore, it was all exactly as she'd left it three years ago. Opal lay down on her mattress and almost gasped at the sensation. Her bed was firm but soft; she hadn't felt a bed this comfortable in years.

From what she learned, not much had changed around the estate either, but people had advanced and grown in ways she was proud, if surprised, to learn about. Over lunch, Opal had forced Chef to gossip to her about her brothers. Both of her younger siblings had joined Zaofu's guard, taking up positions Kuvira and so many others had vacated. They were still eighteen, and hadn't been given a lot of power, but Opal could tell that Wing and Wei would be good at their job.

On the less professional aspects of life, when Wing had turned seventeen he had begun ploughing through romantic partners and had currently paused on a boy Opal remembered from school. Wei, on the other hand, was resolutely single and Opal could tell he, being the more idealistically romantic of the pair, was waiting for the right person. Even in wartime people didn't change much.

Huan had dropped by the kitchen and accidentally ran into Opal. She promptly subjected him to a tight hug and when she finally let him go he grabbed a wrap from the kitchen counter. He moved to leave, an excuse about his latest work ready on his lips, but Opal managed to convince him to stay and eat with her. Suyin, reading the situation, turned and chatted lightly with the chef while Huan ate his lunch and Opal interrogated him about all she'd missed.

Her brother wasn't an outgoing person; he was a sort of blunt introvert who enjoyed art more than people. Opal was friendlier than he was but they both enjoyed solitude with their respective hobbies and because of that had been close to each other when they were children. It didn't take long for Opal to get him to relax and just talk to her.

Huan, according to himself, didn't have much to tell her about his life since not much had changed in it. He didn't ask her about her life and she was hungry for news about Zaofu so she bullied him into expounding on his. In the three years that had passed between them, he'd thrown himself into his art, the impending war hadn't changed that. As he spoke his fingers twitched, somewhat nervous, and she could tell that even then he was eager to get back to his studio.

She wondered if he ever felt like guilty about pursuing his passion while the world outside crumbled, like she did, or if he felt like it was a duty to do so. There was something in the way he spoke and acted that made Opal realize his reasoning was that art and individuality needed to be protected and nourished in such harsh times, not cast aside.

Their conversation waned, and they sat together silently and listened to their mother speak with the chef. Huan finished his lunch eventually and left, but when he did his movements were more relaxed than they'd been when he'd walked in and Opal smiled to herself.

Chef had already been preparing lunch by the time she had arrived, and he'd fed her the food he'd already prepared before going on to make more vegetable wraps than she could possible eat, later insisting that she take them with her. She knew that when this was all over she'd have to invite Kai to visit and let him be pampered as much as he deserved. She left lunch after awhile and wandered back to her bedroom. With a full stomach and a soft bed, she felt totally at peace.

She'd anticipated a battleground but instead found a safe haven, her home eagerly welcoming her back in. Lying on her bed, she rolled her head to the side to look at her bed stand. Her eyes fell on a book she'd started but never finished. She picked it up, and opened it. She lost herself in the novel until her father knocked on the door and told her it was time to eat again.

Dinner was a surprisingly tense affair; her family hardly spoke. Baatar's chair remained empty. There were so many empty seats now . . . first Aiwei, now Baatar. Opal could imagine her own empty seat. She looked at Wing and Wei. They were older than she'd been when she'd left but they'd stayed. She loved Zaofu, she loved her bed and her books and her family, but she couldn't imagine staying now.

When Chef came in she found out he'd prepared her even more of her favourite dishes and she'd almost started crying. She was still full from lunch but she couldn't stop grinning at him whenever he reentered the dining room with another course and eventually he just pulled up a chair and sat with her. They continued their conversation about the changes in Zaofu, but kept the subject matter more general this time around. They were nearly the only two people who talked the entire meal.

Chef's duties hadn't changed at all since the three years had passed, but the dinners had become less lavish due to wartime circumstances and overall mood. Chatting at dinner, and quietly to each other during lunch, Opal managed to piece together most of what had happened since she'd been gone. Suyin had tried to keep a brave face about Kuvira, continuing the dance troupe and parties, but things weren't the same after all that had happened and Suyin slowly let those traditions die.

Her father kept to his innovations, sometimes helping Asami in Republic City with her own plans. He also spent a large portion of his time with Suyin, supporting her quietly, and it was refreshing to see that at least that hadn't been lost through the years. Baatar wasn't a similar person to his wife, but he knew how to make her happy and how to support her goals and she always made sure to do the same for him.

Suyin, momentarily snapping out of her gloom, regaled Opal with the story of how Baatar had secretly taken dancing lessons to cheer her up after she disbanded the troupe, and how it had been his clumsy dancing that had managed to get her to laugh for the first time in weeks. Opal loved hearing about how her family, no matter how fragmented, still loved each other. She ate those words up and basked in it all.

It was so nice to be back here, even if her family was too anxious about the impending battle to really welcome her fully. Walking back to her bedroom, having eaten more food in two meals than she had for three years, she considered the future. She didn't know what was going to happen tomorrow but she knew she'd missed this place. Did Baatar? Did Kuvira? She found it hard to believe that they didn't, at least a little.

She wondered if that was why there were so intent on claiming Zaofu. But then again, with the amount of force they were bringing with them Opal felt like they wouldn't care if they tore the place to the ground in order to get it under their control. Opal couldn't understand why, and beneath all their empty platitudes, she knew they wouldn't tell her either.

All the same, Opal felt dreary and sentimental. In a few days, her brother and Kuvira would be back in Zaofu, and she wondered if they would they feel anything at all. She closed her eyes and remembered how it used to be. Opal's life had been so harmless and childish once. Bitterness squeezed her throat. With those thoughts, suddenly, her bed was too soft; the world was too quiet for her to be comfortable.

171 AG

She was nearly asleep when Kuvira paced into her room. Moonlight was drifting in through the open window along with a soft breeze, teasing and stirring the night air. It was the click of her door shutting that alerted Opal to Kuvira's presence. Opal sat up in her bed, pulling her sheets with her.

"Is something wrong?" she asked. "Are we under attack?"

Kuvira stood there for a moment, the light making her skin shine. She looked surreal, like an apparition. Her face was blank but her eyes were searching. She walked closer to Opal with the grace and quiet of a dancer. Her silence worried Opal but there was something calming in the way Kuvira moved. She walked cautiously but not fearfully.

"No," the woman replied, sitting down on Opal's bed. Her weight made the mattress shift, gravity pooling around her in a way that made Opal's knees fall against her back. Kuvira turned her body, placing one hand by Opal's head, and looked down at the girl. Opal looked up at her, eyes wide. Kuvira smoothed Opal's hair behind her ear. Opal held her breath.

"Why are you in here?" she asked after a moment. Kuvira's lips suddenly broke into a smile. Opal watched her eyes, less apprehensive now and more interested. Kuvira bent down closer to Opal and the nonbender's back straightened. She wasn't sure what was going on. She didn't feel unsafe but this was something new, something unfamiliar. Kuvira now was eye-level with Opal, their lips were close enough to brush against each other.

"If you want me to leave," Kuvira said in a low voice, and trailed off. Shivers rippled across Opal's spine. Kuvira's pupils were so dilated that her eyes were black. She smelled sweet, like flowers and soap. She wasn't wearing her guard's uniform; she was dressed in her dance clothes. The moonlight hit her shoulder where the strap of her shirt had rolled down.

Kuvira leaned in closer and Opal pressed her hand to Kuvira's chest to halt her. Kuvira's skin was hot. Kuvira moved her face and leaned her forehead into the crook of Opal's neck. Opal gasped then bit her lip. Her hands moved to hold onto the backs of Kuvira's upper-arms, and she could feel the strength coiled there.

Kuvira's breath was hot on Opal's chest. Opal shifted in the bed and Kuvira pressed her down. She moved her legs onto the bed, kneeling between Opal's, and pressing her lips against Opal's neck. Opal let out a noise of surprise, and Kuvira kissed her again.

"Kuvira," Opal stuttered, voice shaking. "What are you doing?" She knew what Kuvira was doing. She was kissing Opal's neck, soft, hot kisses, over and over.

"Nothing," Kuvira answered, pausing to look up at Opal with shining eyes.

"Is there something wrong?" Opal asked again, but her hands were finding the edges of Kuvira's arms and were tugging her in closer. Kuvira nudged open Opal's legs with her knees, moving into the space she made there. One hand tilted Opal's face to look at her as her thumb slid across Opal's lip.

"Is there?" Kuvira asked. Opal could tell Kuvira was asking for permission, but the woman was leaning closer to Opal, caressing her face. Opal couldn't say no even if she knew what she was saying no to. Opal's breath shook in her lungs. Kuvira leaned down and pressed a firm kiss on the space between Opal's collarbones. Opal's fingers tightened on Kuvira's arms.

"Kuvira," she whispered. Kuvira kissed her again, on her neck, under her jaw, on her neck once more. Opal trembled as Kuvira lightly slid her tongue along Opal's jugular, and barely bit back a gasp when the woman gingerly nipped her skin. Wherever Kuvira touched her, Opal's skin sung.

The girl's hands abandoned Kuvira's arms and moved to cup the woman's face, stopping her mid-kiss. Kuvira's lips shone in the moonlight. She didn't move. Opal tucked her black hair behind her ear, marvelling at how soft it felt. Kuvira's body was so warm on Opal as she pressed her down into the sheets and her weight felt anchoring.

Opal threaded her arms around Kuvira's neck, pulling Kuvira's forehead to rest against her own. She could hardly breathe. She'd shut her eyes and she could almost hear Kuvira smile in the darkness. The metalbender ran her thumb idly across Opal's neck, calm and reassuring. Opal opened her eyes again.

She could barely see Kuvira but she could feel her. Her warm breath, the feel of her chest and stomach flat against Opal's, and the simple feeling of Kuvira watching her. Kuvira seeing her. Opal's arms wrapped tighter around Kuvira's neck, pulling her face closer to hers. Opal leaned into Kuvira's soft lips, and woke up in the same bed alone, disoriented and desperate.

Moonlight in Zaofu should have been the first sign.