A/N: Semi-short chapter. Much thanks to Aryck1095 for helping me get off my butt and post this. Please, please review. If I add another please, it still probably won't convince you, but I'll do it anyway. PLEASE...enjoy. That is all.
Aang awoke to the sound of drums. He could feel their steady, distant thumping through the earth. The vibrations were as relentless as the ocean waves against a sandy beach, as soothing as a heartbeat, and made Aang feel warm and safe. As safe as he had felt over a hundred years ago in his own bed in the Southern Air Temple. Snuggling deeper into the gray fabric of his sleeve, he sought sleep once again.
But this illusion didn't last long. Reality washed over him like the tide at its highest, and the airbender's eyes shot open, pushing himself up to a sitting position. His blurry vision sharpened and focused, and the distinct throb of the drums pounded with the pace of his heartbeat, flaring in his ears.
The cave was dark, and only a sliver of sunlight slanted through a window hole outside his confinement. Judging by the light's intensity and the angle at which it came into the cavern, Aang guessed it was about mid-morning, much later than he usually got up. He and his friends were usually in the air before sunrise, to help further disguise Appa's ascension from early risers in the Fire Nation towns.
Shifting his weight, the airbender grunted. Though he was used to sleeping on the hard ground, the rough stone had scraped his palms and gave him a few more bruises than he was comfortable with. Despite the dull pain, Aang rose to a crouch, and took a few tentative steps toward the entrance of the cell. Alert, he curled his tender fingers around the bamboo poles that kept him inside and wondered how he had escaped from behind one set of bars just to end up behind them again. Gazing out upon the camp, his eyes met the pulsating red glow that emanated from the magma pool in the center of the cavernous city. He could make out several silhouettes surrounding the enormous glowing pool, dumping into it buckets of…was that stone? Aang squinted. He couldn't tell, the magma was too bright. He could hear the hiss and glub of the contents of the buckets as they met with the molten stone. A sudden wave of horror washed through him as he realized their actual identity…bones. Animal bones. Aang felt nauseous. He reeled, trying his best to keep from throwing up. He didn't succeed.
Wiping his mouth with a sleeve, he clutched his upset stomach. Yesterday, the likelihood of reviving the Air Nomad culture had had a bright future in Aang's mind. Today, witnessing what little he had, that chance seemed to steadily shrink. The Avatar was appalled. How could his people abandon their way of life…? He understood that they must've needed to use their airbending skill for self defense, and for protection of their new home…but how could they just drop everything they'd ever known in favor for something so…different? Despair crept into Aang's heart, and a sharp ache formed below the lump in his throat. Wasn't there anyone left who remembered the old ways? Anyone at all? Or was he truly the very last Air Nomad?
He was willing to try something…anything to ease the overwhelming sense of loneliness and loss that had numbed his limbs and his mind. There must've been a way to discover if there was anyone left from the original escapees. Surely, by now, they would be over a hundred years old, but Bumi had been alive. Alive and kicking. Literally. This thought gave Aang a flicker of hope as he knocked with a sore fist on the bamboo.
"Hel-loooo!" he called loudly, hoping to catch the attention of a passerby by sticking his arms between the bars and waving them madly.
A thick, muscled hand shot out of nowhere and grabbed his wrists fiercely, yanking him with a muffled "oof!" against the bars. A warrior, nearly two heads taller than Aang and looking to be several years older, leaned down in his face, hissing.
"Be quiet, boy, or I'll be forced to make you!"
The tone of his voice wasn't threatening, far from it. Shockingly, Aang detected a hint of uncertainty and—possibly even fear. He released Aang's sleeves and glared at him in what he probably thought was an intimidating manner. Deciding to use the man's slight hesitancy against him, Aang flashed a warm smile at the warrior. "Technically," he began matter-of-factly, gesturing in a wide sweep, like Sokka sometimes did, "I'm decades older than you, so 'boy' really isn't an appropriate title."
The warrior blinked, clearly not expecting this cheeky response. "Well…what am I supposed to call you, then?"
The Avatar smiled. "If you must, I suppose you could call me…sir. Or, if you aren't the formal type, you could just call me Aang."
Eyebrow raised, the warrior crossed his arms skeptically. "All right…Aang." His tone was one of mild curiosity, mixed together with slight amazement.
The airbender gazed at him expectantly from behind the bars of his prison.
"What?"
"Well," Aang prompted, "Now that I've told you my name, aren't you going to let me have yours?"
"We don't trade names with prisoners," the warrior responded bluntly, in a voice a tad weaker than he probably meant to sound.
"Oh," Aang deflated visibly. Another custom gone… "Well, uh, back in my day, the Air Nomads had no prisoners. Heh, it sounds so weird to say that."
A few moments of silence stretched out between the two before, finally, the warrior spoke again. "You know, you're not like the other Fire Nation soldiers that end up here."
Swallowing a stinging protest, Aang choked out, "What do you mean?"
The warrior shifted, his leafy green garb rippling in the sunlight that was beginning to flood through the cavern. "Our other prisoners just sat curled up in the back of the cells, never speaking nor making any noise. There eyes were always wide and white, and they'd flinch if anyone ever spoke to them. You…you're different. You seem to like us…care about us, even. And you're a windthrower. Just like us. But you're most likely going to be executed, just like the rest of them. It doesn't seem fair…I almost feel—betrayed."
Aang sighed, turning slowly all the way around to settle on the ground in a lotus position, his chin in his hands. "I kind of know what you mean."
The warrior tipped his head to the side, looking down at Aang's slumped figure almost compassionately. "Gorou," he said suddenly.
The Avatar glanced up. "What?"
"Gorou," the warrior repeated, hesitantly but with gaining confidence. "It's my name."
Aang glanced up, eyes shining. "Well, Gorou," he said, the name rolling over his tongue like so much sweet candy. He smiled broadly. "It's very nice to meet you."
A/N: Should I do it again? Eh, why not. PLEASE? Come on, people, it's RIGHT THERE! Have a heart!
