Author's Notes: Tada!! Presenting the all-mighty chapter eight!! It's probably one of the better chapters so far, so please try to enjoy! (Oh, and I gots a new poll up. Its totally random, but its still fun...possibly...)
Deds: Unique Art, Avatar Airis, and Celtic Goddess of Fertility. Thank you guys for all da support!
Disclaimer: I do not own "Avatar: The Last Airbender," and I don't think I own the name Rontu. That name came directly from Island of the Blue Dolphins by Scott O'dell. (FINALLY!! Alternate references!!)
Somewhere, a man sits with his back against a highly uncomfortable oak tree. After several seconds' staring at his dinner, he takes a big unenthusiastic bite of the dirty apple before throwing it into a nearby bush. He struggles to get up, his left arm paining him in its crude sling. He doesn't want to get up, he doesn't want to wander through desert and forest and wasteland, he wants to go home. He imagines long day after long day about his family, the one that he knows he no longer has.
He stumbles through a wood, seeing a few dirty people jump from tree to tree. He doesn't care; he's seen these people before. He's listened to them complain about their "horrible" lives, infuriating him like everything else in his own miserable life. He has it worst, and he knows it. No family, no home, no friends, no joy. Maybe it was because he didn't know how to get it again, or maybe he just doesn't want it. He doesn't want to become lost again. He looks over years before; maybe it wasn't worth fighting for. But what's done is done, he would be miserable forever.
He comes to a shallow river. He looks at his distorted reflection in the clear water; seeing a much uglier image than he expects. On his face are deep long scars that run from ear to lip. His once kind grey eyes droop wearily, carrying dark bags under them from the exhaustion of traveling miles and miles with less than minutes of sleep to spare. His hair is scraggly and dirtied with bits of leaves and dirt encrusted in it. He examines the burns on his left arm that still hurt at the touch. As he touches the gash on his forearm that he recently has so kindly received, he cannot help but wince. He has been through so much, too much. He hates his life, almost as much as he hates living.
As he notices the full pouch of food and supplies pouring out of a suede pouch a few yards away, he finds it impossible to feel the least bit regretful about stealing it. He needs it more than he feels anyone has ever needed anything, so he deserves this. Living off a few scare bitter nuts and unfamiliar herbs has done him no good, considering how much weight he has lost in a few years' time. His ribs shone through his skin, his stomach is drastically thin and hollow.
In the precious few minutes of that night's rest, he has a dream. He usually sleeps painless nights of dreamless sleeps, feeling content for a moment's time. In his dream, he fights a familiar fight, one he had fought a decade ago. He knows he cannot win, but he must try. Flames fly everywhere, both from fellow soldiers and the enemy. He sees he is the last one standing of his troop. He runs, runs into the forest. He is not followed, or so he thinks. He stops in his tracks, for he cannot move any longer. And as a man throws a dagger at his heart, he cannot scream.
He sits up, heart pounding, eyes wide in the chill of the night. And it only pounds harder as a burning flame is held beneath his chin.
I pressed my knuckles against my forehead as I sat on the bed. How could he have been through all that? He definitely didn't act like that innocent little prince anymore; it miraculous how much someone can change in a few years' time. I wished there was something to make me stop thinking of Zuko, because that was the only thing I had done for a while now.
I picked up my bow and dusted it off once again. I started out of the room, until I spotted something shining in the sunlight. I bent over to pick it up, curious at what had so suddenly caught my eye. A dagger – a perfect one, with a mahogany handle and sharp brass blade. Engraved in the brass were the words, nearly too small to read, "Never Give Up Without a Fight" The words were enchanting and mysterious all at once. It wasn't like it was anything special, but it was. I stowed the dagger away in my robe and strolled, bow in hand, to the deck.
I turned around in dizzying circles, looking for something to aim at. For a few moments I considered a cloud, before realizing what I had just thought. In the end I just sat down and held the bow in my hand, aimed at the wall, and with the other pulled the arrowless string back over... and over... and over, until I finally lay on my back. I put my arms behind my head and stared at my first "targets." Seeing as there was only one, I searched my mind for something else. Say a Messenger Hawk was to fly by here. I could steal the message and have something to think about AND cause mischief at the same time! If only there was actually a bird in sight, that would be the day. Instead of letting more thoughts invade the privacy of my own head, I closed my eyes and almost drifted to sleep...
Squak! I sat up, and saw exactly what I expected: a Fire Nation messenger hawk. I can't believe the Universe actually heard me. I didn't even think it that loud.
It had already started to descend towards the ship, but I still readied my arrows. I pulled an arrow back, but I didn't have to. It swooped down toward the ship without falter. It landed right on my shoulder. Its claws dug into my skin, so I made sure to hurry in getting the letter out. I thought about opening it- but I thought it would be more fun to not. On the account that I was a pretty patient person (Ok, on some cases) it wouldn't be that difficult to wait. I thought over all the dumb things that it probably contained – a confirmation that an order of, I don't know, cabbages had been sent.
I stroked the hawk's beautiful crimson feathers and shook it gently. It stirred, and stood up in alert. It ruffled its feathers and flew away into the sunset. I stuffed the letter in my robe and headed into my room yet again.
After setting the letter into the top drawer of a dresser in my room, I went out onto the deck – again. It was my favorite place on the whole ship, and a great place to think. I came here just about every day, and this time I just enjoyed the scenery.
The sun shined a smoldering blaze of red and orange, sinking into the open sea.
The ocean lapped against the ship, begging for attention. In it the distorted image of yellow coy fish were placed, swimming gleefully in the tide. I just stood near the edge, and watched nature dance.
I turned around, the warm summer air kissing my cheeks as it hurried on to somewhere else.
The endless sky shone a tender shade of rose, violet clouds smeared here and there.
The seagulls cried a carefree song as they continued their journey north, not even noticing the big black unnatural object down below.
In all my joyous contentment, I found myself thinking; and not just the daydreams and the head-in-the-clouds 'Ifs.' It was unbearable. The worst thing about having nothing on your mind is having nothing in your mind to stop you from bringing back memories. Painful ones.
I took out the picture of my father that I always kept close.
Why him?
I crumpled it into a tight ball and threw it; threw it as far as I could, somewhere he couldn't haunt me.
Why me?
I sat in the corner and held my knees to my chest. A silver tear streaked my face.
"Why?"
I pushed him out of my mind and opened the door to inside. I just went out the door, and hopefully excitement would do me a favor and find me.
I turned a corner, and ran straight into it.
"Sor-," I started to apologize, but that dude I had just run into shoved me to the wall. Jerk.
"I've had enough of you." His voice was savage and unforgiving, but strangely young. I cowered; backing up against the wall. He was totally invading my personal space here. I mean, seriously, back up dude!
"Wh- what did I do to you?" I voiced my thoughts.
"You wanna know what you did?" He came closer to my face, so close that I could feel his warm breath on my neck. He kept a firm grip on my collar.
"You got me fired; that's what you did!"
"I do-,"
"You released the prisoner, you ambushed the crew! Because of you, I was fired!"
"What do you mean?" I kicked and squirmed but he wouldn't let me go.
"After you left, Prince Zuko had a nice little talk with me! Do you know how irrational he is?"
"Yeah," I muttered.
"I want even," he demanded.
"And how exactly?"
"Agni Kai," he said simply. "Tomorrow night, sunset."
Agni Kai? What? I never had an Agni Kai before, and I don't even think I've seen one! But with a shaking voice and forced sureness, I let out the words,
"I accept."
He let up his grip on my collar and backed away from me. He was young, only about 17. Wait- hold on a second. I knew this dude! I fought him in our ambush! Thank the Spirits that he didn't remember that.
Wait another second... I just agreed to duel the jerk. Major mental face-palm there.
"Wait," I called. He turned back to me. "W- What's your name?" A silly question to ask, but somehow was the most important thing in the world.
He sported a confused look. But he answered, "Rontu," turned and left.
I stared out the window for the second hour in a row. I was absolutely terrified. In less than an hour, I would probably be dead. That was a really nice feeling.
The sun hovered above the ocean, preparing to sink. I took a deep breath and set out for the deck.
As I entered the area, I scanned the entire place. The once small and dull space looked twice its normal size, and seemed to threaten me, "No chance." At the very end was Rontu.
He approached me, but I stood still. I wanted to stand up to him and fight, but I remained immobile. But after minutes of trying to move to the center space, my body obeyed.
We were only a few feet apart. Rontu seemed pleasurable, but as for me, I didn't know, or care, how I felt. I just looked to the west at the sun ready to set.
I regained a grip on myself. I was here, and I would duel. I backed away a few feet, as did he. The sun set in the water, and we returned bows. The battle had begun.
I turned, kicked, and punched in a quick flurry of movement. He returned the strike with a few punches of fire. With absolute sureness, I blocked them. I punched again, his actions mirroring mine. He kicked at me, the fire coming closer to singeing my sleeve. Fire illuminated the evening sky.
There was a kick, punch, block, punch and kick again. I had had this battle before.
I sent a line of inferno at him, and that was when I had the chance to win.
He stumbled.
I ran in for the opportunity and swept my foot along the ground right under his. For a second, I considered victory and let down my guard.
Wrong choice.
He got right back up with out even touching the ground, and in succession used a fire blast to knock me down.
On the floor I groaned, in considerable pain from the fall. I hit the ground wrong, and I don't think that worked well for me.
Soon enough, he was standing over me, in a pose to strike.
But he hesitated.
I got up from the ground in a rush and formed electricity on my fingertips. He looked like he was in total shock, but started a kick.
But before our faces could respond, lightning whizzed straight past him and fire didn't even come close to burning me.
While we both stood still.
I ran through the door, Rontu following behind me. Apparently he was bewildered, and I had a feeling to match.
I cornered Rontu. I hoped he knew what was going on, because I sure didn't. "What ha-,"
"I don't know," he finished.
"Why didn't you kill me?" How easy was it to kick at someone frozen on the spot, and yet we couldn't. He just stood in thought without any trace of an answer.
"What? Why didn't I kill you? Did you wanna be killed or something?" Rontu yelled.
"No!" I answered, putting my hands on my hips.
"Well? What do you want to do now? Just, go back to your room or something, and pretend like this never happened? You know... it might not be that big of a deal."
"No, Rontu, it is. Something in the Universe didn't want us to kill each other. Our minds both wanted us to, but something in our spirits told us not to."
I looked at Rontu, hoping for something to follow what I said. He looked at me, except like I was a child. I could almost see a red mark in the shape of a palm on his forehead without his hands moving at all. "I'm guessing you don't believe in that stuff, do you."
"No; I don't."
"Why, though? Why are you so, 'I must get the ultimate revenge for being fired,' and then, when you don't get it, you just don't care?"
"Why do you care?" He looked at me with so much annoyance, it almost burned. I answered with a look of my own. Because I do. Tell me.
"Maybe I just don't know, Ok?" He bit his bottom lip and cradled his hands into fists.
"I think you do know." My voice softened. There was something he was hiding, and I needed to know what it was.
Rontu looked down, determined to not make eye contact with me. He spoke. "In the first place, I couldn't lose this job. The pay I get here is the only thing keeping food on my family's plates. It's been that way for two years now. I lose my job; I lose everything. Without my family, I couldn't go on. They are the threads that keep me connected to this world, even when they're so far away. And because of that, I can't feel close to them. I don't want to. I don't want to care about them, or care about anything at all. I've always tried to not need something that can be gone so fast." His stare remained to the floor the entire time he spoke. After he had finished, he peeked up at me. "There." Rontu gathered himself before speaking again. "And by the way, don't think you can get away without telling me your life story, or something of the sort." There was a sparkle in his light brown eyes that I couldn't say no to.
"Well, I don't think I can exactly follow that story, but I'll try, if you want."
I leaned against the wall and tried to begin some sort of story. For a second I considered telling them about my village, and how we were all criminals, but then it didn't exactly sound so appealing. "I have an older brother, Haka-Sai. He was like a father to me, and owned a place in my heart that no one could ever replace. He was a warrior. When I was seven and he was seventeen, he left for war. I never saw him again."
"I'm really sorry," he sympathized.
"One of the things that I remember most was that every night, I would lie awake until he came in. He would sing to me in a somewhat off key voice, and sometimes kiss me on the cheek. After that, I would smile and finally fall sleep. I don't know what did it, but he made me forget my worries. I wish more than anything in the world that he would be here to comfort me, just something to make me think he was here." I made a simple smile, one that I would've worn had Haka been here.
"I think I can help with that," Rontu cooed.
He closed the space between us and leaned in toward me.
Next thing I knew, tender lips brushed against mine, and strong hands wrapped around my waist. I couldn't see, and I barely knew where I was. Nothing told me to pull away. I was lost in the moment; lost in Rontu.
Something clicked inside my head.
What am I doing?
I pushed Rontu's body away from me, and ran into the Prince's room. This time, I think I may need him.
Author's Notes: I just thought you guys should know that two of the original names for parts of this chapter were "Yet Another Guy with a Temper" and "Agni Kai with Temper Guy." Well, I didnt actually think you should know that, but I felt like tellin ya. Mhm.