a/n: well well look who wrote something.

just a few notes before this oneshot! 1), i have no idea how realistic this is. probably not very. but i literally was just rewatching the episode and thought "hey, a tragic love story, there's something to write!" 2) i'm fairly certain this has been done before (?) but idk and i wrote it in case it hasnt. 3) i dont actually understand the avatar timeline? like with the lionturtles but also first earth bending badgermoles? so * might * not be accurate even in the avatar universe but eh, whatever:)

enjoy reading!

The flickering light from Oma's torch was getting smaller and smaller. It was already burnt down more than half way, and still there was no sign of Shu. The night was nearly over, judging by the time that had already passed, but Shu hadn't come.

Oma was worried. He'd never missed any of their secret meetings, never, even when she had been sick in bed he had told her days after how he had waited and wished for her health. She remembered the brush of his hand over her hair, kissing her worries away softly.

She needed it now, too, the soft feeling of his lips over hers, his reassuring embrace and his calloused hands whenever they met. But Shu couldn't give it to her, because he wasn't here.

Oma waited. She waited longer than she should have, because by the time she got up her legs were as numb as her brain and heart. Her torch was gone by then, and she followed the glimmer and gleam of the crystals. She remembered moving them with Shu, laughing and nudging each other, giddy with power and love. She remembered seeing the light reflect in his beautiful eyes, remembered how he had whispered to her. She remembered a lot of things, moments that had passed faster than they should have. It felt like yesterday had they said "I love you" for the first time, and like a few days ago Oma had moved the first piece of rock, breaking stance to turn to her lover who had been staring at her, laughing and full with adoration.

It felt wrong leaving the tunnels like this. Instead of her usual small smile and the warm feeling in her heart she felt cold and empty. She barely registered the rumbling of the earth around her, barely felt when a stone, sticking out of the wall she ran her hand along, nicked her palm and drew blood.

Her mind had stopped working. It only flooded with possibilities again when she stepped out of the tunnel, pushing a bush aside and getting greeted by soft dawn light. Oma put a hand over her eyes, shielding them and looking down to her village. She was late, she knew it. She should have been back by then. Her father and brothers would wonder, and her mother and sister would worry and Oma would be lectured about going out in the night during war. But Oma would not listen, could not, because she'd be thinking about Shu.

So instead of going home, she went to the second best place, to Alula.

Alula was barely awake when Oma knocked, but the girl immediately stopped yawning when she saw her friend.

"Oma?" she asked warily, stepping aside to let her in. "Are you alright? What's wrong?"

Oma didn't answer. She looked around the sparse room she had stepped into, and a wave of sadness and anger hit her. How often had she thought how well Shu and Alula, her two best friends, would have gotten along? How often had she sat with Alula over tea, laughing, and how often had she wished the war gone in those instances? Too many times had she held Alula while she cried over her parents, and too many times had she held Shu when he remembered his sister.

It hurt far too much and Oma only realised she was shaking when Alula's voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

"Oma!" she had called, and when Oma finally looked up, softened a little. "Your hand is bleeding."

Oma looked down to where the cut in her palm was dripping onto her clothes a little. It still didn't really hurt, only stung a little, but Oma clenched her hand into a fist either way. They couldn't go on like this. They wouldn't.

"Alula." She barely recognised her own voice. It sounded sharper and colder than usual, stiff, but she kept going. "Do you remember that boy from years ago? Shu?"

It hurt more than she liked to admit to say his name out loud.

Alula blinked, clearly taken aback by the sudden inquiry, but answered hesitantly, "I- I think so. You could barely keep your eyes away from him." She said slightly bitterly.

In the end she didn't keep away from him, Oma thought.

"Why?"

Before Oma could answer, there was a shout outside. Alula broke eye contact and bolted for the door, tearing it open. "Wha-,"

Outside was a horde of people. All ages, men and women, many of them armed but not all- and Oma realised with a start it wasn't just people from her village. She spotted her siblings, hustled together, looking as confused as she felt. She saw her parents and barely noticed when Alula's grandmother pushed past her to get to them in a hurry.

Then there were the people she had never, or barely ever, seen before. When she saw a little girl's tear-streaked face that was strikingly similar to Shu's, Oma suddenly understood the shouts.

"You kill us in our own home and then expect no repercussion?!" a man at the front screamed, waving a dagger around. "Think again!"

"Please," Alula's father shouted back just as angrily, "we all know what you did to six of us when they were eating peacefully on our side of the hill! The only reason Tal survived is because he was faster than you could chase him!"

When the voices rose, a different one, a small one, silenced most of the mass.

"You killed my brother!"

Oma's gaze drifted to the little girl, clutching something to her chest and shaking furiously. Her words didn't seem to file into Oma's brain.

"You killed him! When he was doing nothing bad! You killed him, and now he's never coming back, and he promised me- he-," she didn't continue, breaking down sobbing, but even if she had, Oma wouldn't have noticed.

There was a weird, high pitched ringing in her ears, blocking out her surroundings. Her vision filled with odd dancing black spots and her entire body felt like it was made of fire and ice at the same time. She could feel the ringing getting stronger, and with it the power thrumming through her veins and body. For a terrifying moment she couldn't feel or register anything but the pebbles at her feet trembling.

Then everything came back into focus too sharp and too sudden, and Oma ripped her arms up, and with them columns and platforms of earth sprouted like clay in the early days of summer. She barely realised she had screamed at the top of her lungs until she stopped with ragged breath.

Oma blinked, lips parting slightly as she looked around realising what she had done.

The entire clearing was silent. Everyone was staring at her. Mouths agape, eyes wide and fearful, frozen in place. Shu's little sister as much as Oma's siblings and parents and Alula, and both villages, united in their astonishment.

But that wasn't it. Not really. Amidst them and around them and almost through houses was rock, and earth, pushed up unnaturally and violently by her emotions. It was a sight- whether beautiful or terrifying or both, Oma wasn't sure. It was incredible though, and even if she had shaped an underground labyrinth she hadn't been aware of the extent of her powers.

"She- she's bending the earth to her will." Came a terrified whisper from somewhere in the crowd.

"It's like the legends said…!" Another whisper-shout.

"She's going to kill us all!" Another.

Oma wasn't going to apologise. There was no reason to- but she would speak. And they would listen.

"Enough!" she shouted, voice carrying far. She raised her hands so the earth rumbled, and she felt her body vibrate with it. Then she stilled. She was doing this for Shu, of course, but also for peace, and a future, and she needed to come to her senses before she destroyed or lost them all.

Oma took a deep breath and started.

"Enough. This entire conflict, this war, needs to end. Haven't we fought enough? This started more than two decades ago- I wonder if people even still know what it's actually about. It needs to end."

She looked down at the faces, each with a different expression and life, and she felt something heavy settle in her chest as she wiped a stray strand of hair from her face. When she continued, she was calm, with a strange sadness tinging her words.

"Who here hasn't lost someone to this war? Who here misses a loved one, or holds their loved ones when they grieve?" The crowd moved a little, like one single big creature, shifting in the face of something new and unknown.

"I lost someone," Oma admitted, tears staining her eyes and voice wavering, "And he lost someone as well. I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye." She looked Shu's sister square in the face, layering her words with meaning, "And neither did his family, apparently."

The small girl's gaze flooded with a confused realisation and tears. Oma nodded ever so slightly before addressing the entire crowd again. "It's too easy to end this. Everyone has fault. There were too many wrongs on both sides. Far too few rights. But-," and hope rose in her chest, she felt in her body like a physical thing, made her limbs lighter, and soothed the pain. She still felt it, raw and hurting, like a deep wound, but if this stopped- if she could just end this suffering- she might be fine. "That can all be behind us. We can be even, and work it out. I know it'll be hard-,"

There was a scoff in the crowd somewhere. Oma didn't even bother to seek out who it had been as she narrowed her eyes. "We cannot go on like this." She insisted. "At least, I can't. Everyone I know can't. We can start a new life, together, in peace."

It was Alula's grandmother who spoke up. Then a man from the other village. Then Oma's siblings, together. More and more people started talking, words blurring and mixing together. It didn't matter to Oma- all she heard was agreement. Enthusiastically or reluctantly or hesitantly or people simply bursting into tears.

It all faded into the background while Oma looked up to the mountain. She imagined Shu standing next to her, proud and happy, telling the tales of badgermoles and the labyrinth, and he'd sing and laugh and cheer. He'd hug his sister and promise her to take her to meet a badgermole, and he'd shake hands with Oma's family, and he'd be standing next to her, solid and real and alive.

Oma didn't bother to wipe away the tear when it slid down her cheek quietly. "We'll build a new city." She said out loud. "And it'll be the most beautiful city there is."

When silence greeted her words, Oma smiled, and raised her head to the mountain. And she saw the city, the future, for just a moment, and she whispered, "We did it, Shu. They can be happy."

thanks for reading, leave a review and have a nice day, bbye!