This is a bit of an unusual story, just so you know. Enjoy.

Pronouns And Malevolence

Her steps were firm, echoing off the metal walls, and she held her chin high. She would not let her last moments be spent bowing to the defeat, accepting her own mortality. No, she would stare down the crowd the entire time, making sure that their last image of her was burned forever into their memory. Her hair was stringy, greasy, and pulled into a rough braid. Her clothes chaffed her skin red, and her shoes were two sizes too small but still she walked smoothly.

Her wrists ached and the smell of blood reached her nose, and she knew that she could easily bend her way out of her handcuffs, but she knew that if she made one wrong move, the whole spectacle would be for naught. She intended to die justly, and with purpose. She was not going to spend the rest of her life running, for she had done that, and she didn't want to do it anymore.

The wooden stairs creaked as she climbed up them, the guards shoving her to go faster, but she held her own, and took her own sweet time walking to the center of the platform. All was going fine, she was calm, for she had accepted her death, and it was so close to being over, and she had assumed her position when she felt it. Two heartbeats standing out from the crowd. She recognized the heartbeats.

And then suddenly she knew she would have to break free. They had come for her. Despite everything that had happened, despite her betraying them to the Fire Nation, they had come back for her. Her eyes widened, and she almost leaped off the stage, but then the rope was around her neck, scratching her shoulders, and she felt very, very afraid.

Her head whipped from side to side, as she tried desperately to think of a way to escape. As she did, she felt his light footsteps and her heavier ones, and she knew she was not alone. And so she forced to herself to calm down, assess the situation, and make a decision.

"I think we're going to have to reschedule this little shin-dig," she said, and then she stomped her foot, and the metal walls groaned, and the floor split, effectively breaking the fragile wooden platform and sending the crowd to their knees. She hastily bent away her handcuffs, and pulled off the itchy rope, throwing it on top of the executioner. "Over here!" they yelled, her saviors, and she ran towards them, jumping and ducking to avoid the guards that raced after her. She felt a sudden heat, and she swerved to avoid the ball of fire that avoided her face by mere centimeters.

She saw them a few yards away, and she reached out to them, and their hands caught onto hers, and the three ran away, using all of their power to keep the guards away from them. She did some of her best bending ever, surprising even herself with the sheer force she controlled. On either side of her, she felt the woosh of air and the soft mist of water, and she was free.

In no time, her feet hit rough, cracked earth, and the metal fortress that was her prison was behind her. She heard the groan of the giant bison, and she felt his breath and his fur, and she climbed it quickly, before collapsing on the saddle and catching her breath. The other two sat across from her, panting, and exhausted. They didn't say anything for a while as they flew far away, putting as much distance between them and the Earth Kingdom prison as possible.
Soon, he spoke up. "What happened to you?" he asked. She didn't want to have this conversation, not now, not ever. She didn't want to justify what she had done him or to anyone, because it was her decision and she had her own, personal reasons to make it. And so she turned her face towards the sun, and closed her eyes. "What have you two been doing since, uh, I left," she whispered, feeling awkward.

After all, the last time she had been in contact with them, she had seen the both of them hauled off in handcuffs, each of them screaming obscenities in her face. She had taken it, and she had expected praise, rewards, some sort of acknowledgement from the Fire Nation, but instead, they took her to the Boiling Rock, where she experienced the worst months of her life, and was forced to attempt an escape, resulting in her ultimate capture, relocation to Ba Sing Se, and subsequent execution. Well, failed execution.

But, just like she had, the two refused to speak about what had happened to them while she was away. She just supposed it was going to remain a mystery, and she could learn to accept that. What she was really curious about, anyway, was the future. Was she back in their group, or was this all just some huge conspiracy to return her to her original captors. She didn't think so. The two didn't seem particularly anxious or nervous about anything. In fact, they were surprisingly calm.

"Well then, what now?" she asked, sitting up straighter and resting her back against the edge of the saddle. He got up, his light gait pacing back and forth. "Now you get back to teaching me earthbending," he said quietly. Her eyes widened. She did not expect this. Not at all. She expected to be treated like the traitor she was. Of course, if they knew the entire backstory as to why she did what she did, she thought that they'd think differently, but that was never going to come to light. She expected to be an outcast, an unwanted, a person who was only valued enough if she weren't dead.

Least of all, she never expected to be back in the same position she had been forced to abandon all those months ago. "What?" she replied, stupidly. The other one cocked her head to her side. "What do you mean, 'what'? You heard him," she said, her voice a bit more venomous than his. Now that, she had been expecting. She knew it would take a lot more than a simple apology to get back in her good graces.

And so she sat back, and just nodded, not questioning their motives. And as she drifted to sleep, with the gentle sway of the bison to calm her, a little voice in the back of her head whispered a warning to her.

Be warned, for a kind gesture is often followed by a malevolent heart.