Note: Title taken from the Explosions in the Sky song, "Have You Passed Through This Night?" Please excuse any spelling errors, as this was written at 4 am without Word. Notepad is a cruel invention. Also excuse the crappiness because...well...4 freaking am.
Thanks to Sirena-Lune for editing!
Through the Night
From atop the roof, Ba Sing Se glitters like a million stars reflected on a dark ocean surface. Houses, both dark and glowing, roll as if suspended on temperamental waves from the far edge of the outer wall. It swells, and passes behind a small girl that sits with her legs dangling over the rooftop of her dwelling. In her hands, a sleek dagger catches starlight.
Smellerbee has not seen the ocean in a long, long time.
Her thumb traces the curve of the knife, just hard enough to cut the skin but not enough to draw blood. If Longshot were here, he'd take her hand gently in his own and tuck it away from the sharp edge. But Longshot isn't here; he sleeps soundly in the hut beneath her. All the same, Smellerbee pulls her thumb back.
On the street, an old man totters down the cobblestones. A heavy bag swings from his shoulder, jingling merrily. Enticingly.
She hesitates. Unconsciously, her fingers close around the dagger.
The jingle of money is unmistakable. And he is such a frail old man...
From her palm, the knife smiles at her. Smellerbee flips it, and the blade frowns. Some habits are hard to break.
She takes the hilt of the dagger in her tiny hand, and thrusts it deep into the dark chasm of the alley. The old man passes her, unperturbed and safe.
-x-
In the morning, Longshot climbs up onto the rooftop and finds his companion hunched over the edge. The wind early wind catches her hair in its claws, and against the pale sky she is very small.
He drops down next to her and with a touch of alarm notices the slice in the center of her palm. From beneath her paint, dark circles hang from her eyes. Something tells him that it has been a long night for Smellerbee in Ba Sing Se.
"G'morning," she mutters, and he nods in return.
For a moment they are silent. Light is spilling over the outer wall, painting the sky gray and yellow. The city yawns, its eyes just beginning to creep open to meet the morning.
Beside him, Smellerbee looks up. Her jaw sets.
"It's going to be different this time, Longshot," she tells him determinedly.
A weight seems to lift from her shoulders, and Longshot reaches out and carefully curves his arms around Smellerbee's tiny frame. She smiles softly and leans into the touch as though it is the most natural reaction in the world.
Together, they watched daylight wash over a sea of houses.
Silently, Longshot hopes that she is right.
