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madsthewordclown · 4 years ago

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Pancakes | Sokka x Reader Modern AU

warnings: minor language

summary: you’re tired coming home from a trip over break and also freaking out about your feelings for a certain friend of yours. ft. best friend sleepover.

This fic was somewhat inspired by Pancakes for Dinner by Lizzy McAlpine and the rest of my pining playlist. Hope you guys like it! Also I’m sorry the title is not very relevant but I was tired after spending three days trying to pull this together :/ whoops

“Don’t worry, I’m almost home.” You talked just a bit too loudly to make sure your phone picked up the noise.

“Are you on the phone while driving, Y/N?” Sokka asked. He could probably hear the sound of your car on the highway—there were too many bumps on this road.

“It’s on speaker,” you clarified, being careful to keep your eyes on the road. You had been hoping to get home before dark, but the sun setting to your left was not a great indicator. You glanced down at your dashboard clock—only 5:30. You cursed daylight savings time. “I think I might have an hour left?”

“Know your way from there?” Sokka’s voiced cracked in your phone speaker. He sounded like he was chewing something.

“Yeah, I think so. I was just checking in to let you know.” You had been calling and checking in with either Sokka, Zuko or Katara every hour of your drive. Driving for so long made you especially nervous, and you never said anything so not to worry them, but you wanted one of your friends to have a general idea of where you were if anything were to happen. You knew that you were just being paranoid, but the dimming evening light only served to heighten your nerves.

“Drive safe,” Sokka told you. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”

“I will,” you replied, gulping. You thought of the millions of things you wanted to say to him, but kept your mouth shut. You glanced down to see your phone screen go dark, indicating that Sokka had hung up.

You didn’t tell him how you wished he would stay on the phone to keep you company. You didn’t ask him to see about getting you food for when you finally got home. You most definitely didn’t tell him about the very unhelpful thought that was streaming through your head; I like you, I like you, I like you.

You didn’t know when things had changed between you and Sokka. Your feelings for him had grown into something more than purely platonic, that you couldn’t deny. But you were pretty good at keeping those feelings hidden—in most cases your infatuations would come and go quickly, and you didn’t like to embarrass yourself by acting on an impulse. Even so, you felt like Sokka had been distant lately.

You supposed he had offered to let you stay at his and Zuko’s apartment while you were temporarily kicked out of your dorm for what your college said was a “routine maintenance procedure,” but that might have been more Zuko’s doing. Besides, they had offered the same service to Toph. Toph said that “routine maintenance” was probably code for “getting rid of roaches”.

At least the temporary displacement was over fall break, when lots of students went home. The university did offer other temporary accommodations, but Katara had insisted that the stay at Sokka and Zuko’s would be “the ultimate best-friend sleepover,” and that they’d all spend the night when you got back. As much as you loved your friends, you were happy that you had spent the first half of your break with your parents. You felt like you needed to give Sokka some space, and maybe take some time to let your feelings pass. Unfortunately, they hadn’t, but maybe Sokka would stop acting so distant.

You kept your speed at 5 under the limit as you drove. You felt ridiculous, but somehow your brain could never stop imagining worst-case scenarios; a deer jumping out in front of you, a police chase coming to a violent end over the top of the next hill. It was like a mini-existential crisis every time you were behind the wheel for too long.

You breathed a sigh of relief as you reached the city, the streets once again becoming familiar, illuminated by the streetlamps. The tight feeling in your chest loosened its grip, and you let your hands relax against the wheel.

You hardly believed your luck when you saw the empty space in front of Sokka and Zuko’s building. You quickly parked. Spaces were usually impossible to find. You unbuckled your seatbelt and leaned back with a sigh, relieved to finally be done driving. You had made it, the full 8 hours finally over.

You got out of the car and stretched your legs. Cars weren’t built for tall people, you lamented to yourself as you grabbed your bags out of your backseat, feeling the stiffness in your back as you leaned to grab your things.

Going up the stairs to the third floor was awful, and by the end of it, you wanted nothing more than to lie down. You knocked on the door—they had temporarily offered your spare key to Toph while you were gone—and leaned on the frame while you waited for someone to answer.

“Y/N!” Sokka cried as he opened the door for you. The instant you saw his smile you felt butterflies in your stomach, and the overwhelming urge to just say it—I like you, I like you, I like you—repeated like a mantra in your head.

“Hey, Sokka!” You leaned in to give him a half-hug; it was the best you could do with all of your bags.

“You should’ve called,” Sokka eyed your bags with a frown, “I would’ve helped you bring your stuff in.”

“It’s okay,” you brushed him off, pushing through the door.

“Y/N!” Katara cheered. You could see her sitting on the floor with Aang, leaning back up against the sofa where Zuko and Toph were sprawled out as much as possible. Somehow, Toph managed to take up more space regardless of the height difference. Zuko, Aang, and Toph echoed Katara’s cheer, although Toph did so half-mockingly.

You dropped your bags off by the kitchen table—you’d sort those out later. You just wanted to rest, and you knew you’d have to answer questions about your trip. Suddenly, a smell hit you. “Is something burning?”

“Shit!” Sokka exclaimed suddenly, rushing over to the stove.

“What’s that?” You asked, going to look over his shoulder. It was a bit difficult, as he and Zuko somehow managed to be taller than you. It drove you crazy, as you had been used to being the resident tall-person before you’d met. They loved holding it over your head, both literally and figuratively. (But you most definitely did not have a Napoleon complex. No way.)

“Pancakes,” Sokka answered, carefully flipping two off of the pan. “I figured you’d be hungry.”

“And we wanted pancakes!” Toph yelled from her spot on the couch.

“Make your own damn pancakes!” Sokka yelled back, “I’m giving up.” He turned to where you were standing behind him.

“Here, I’ll take the ones that I burnt, and you can have these other ones.” He held out a plate to you. “I hope four is enough.”

“You really didn’t have to make me food.” But you were so, so happy he did. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were, but now your stomach was being very demanding. You took the plate from him. “Thanks, Sokka.” I like you, I like you, I like you.

“Well, we know Sokka has a favorite,” Toph deadpanned.

“You never make me pancakes, Sokka,” Zuko pouted, sticking out his tongue.

“Shut up,” Sokka replied simply, following you over to claim a spot on the floor next to Katara and Aang, a bottle of syrup in hand.

You and Sokka ate pancakes while your friends asked you about your trip, with a random Mythbusters episode acting as background noise. Yes, your parents were doing great, yes, your hometown was as interesting as ever. The pancakes were delicious, and you felt even more grateful for Sokka’s gesture.

Despite the joy you felt to be reunited with your friends, you couldn’t deny that you were tired. You felt yourself wanting to doze off as you leaned on the couch. You yawned, stretching your arms up. Sokka noticed immediately.

“Hey, you can take my room if you want,” he offered, accurately sensing your exhaustion. You tried in vain to keep your cheeks from reddening—you didn’t think Sokka had noticed, but you were sure Katara did by the look she gave you.

“No, it’s okay,” you reassured him, “all of my bags are in here anyway, and they’re a mess.”

“Here, I’ll move them and get things cleaned up. You need to sleep,” Sokka insisted, proving his insistence by immediately getting up to gather your things. The second he disappeared into his room, Katara turned to you.

“Y/N, I give you my permission to date my brother.”

“Katara!” You blushed. “It’s not like that.”

“Y/N, you’re my best friend and Sokka’s my roommate,” Zuko said, “and I of all people would know that you two have been dancing in circles around each other for months.”

“It’s disgusting,” Toph added, unhelpfully.

“Sokka doesn’t like me like that. He’s been acting weird and avoiding me for weeks,” you reasoned, not bothering to deny your own feelings. It’s not like it mattered.

“He’s not avoiding you today,” Aang mentioned as he leaned on Katara’s shoulder. You supposed you couldn’t deny it, but before you had the chance to respond, Sokka was back.

“I’m sorry if things are still a bit messy, but you can head in and go to bed if you’re tired. I can take the couch.”

“Hey, Snoozles, Zuko and I called dibs,” Toph snapped. “Take the floor.”

“Zuko has a bed here, you know.” Sokka put a hand on his hip.

“Yeah,” Zuko looked up at him from his position on the couch, “but now I’m here, and I’m not moving.” Toph nodded in agreement.

“Then I’ll take Zuko’s room,” Sokka amended.

“Okay, then,” Zuko conceded.

“What?!?” Katara cried indignantly, sitting up straight like a bolt. “You told me I couldn’t!”

“Yeah, because he doesn’t want you and Twinkle-Toes canoodling,” Toph cackled. Katara scoffed.

“We do not canoodle!”

Sokka turned to you as you yawned again. “Get some sleep,” he said. As much as you wanted to refuse, you couldn’t resist the opportunity to finally get some rest. You slowly stood up and walked yourself towards Sokka’s room, and he took your spot on the floor. “Goodnight.”

You took a deep breath when you entered Sokka’s room and switched on the light. You had been in his room once before, when you offered him a ride to a lecture, and he wasn’t awake on time—you had come in and smacked him with one of your notebooks. It was small—Sokka felt bad that Zuko paid most of their rent with his rich-person money and had actually convinced him to go for a cheaper apartment when they had decided to move in together.

You got the vague sense that you needed to shower, but you were too tired to worry about it, and you didn’t want to fish your toiletries out of your stuffed overnight bag. You checked your phone once, and saw you had a text from Katara.

Sokka was paying more attention to you than Mythbusters, Y/N. The MYTHBUSTERS!!!

You rolled your eyes and shot back a quick, “whatever.” And for once, your overwhelming exhaustion drowned out the fluttering feeling in your gut as you climbed into Sokka’s bed. You were asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow.

You could tell when you woke up that it was way too early. You could also tell that you weren’t in your own bed, and then you remembered. Right. Sokka gave you his room. You sat up, pushing the comforter off of you. You had a shaky feeling in your chest, and you knew you’d woken up from a bad dream, but you couldn’t quite remember what it was. You felt like you did when you were driving the night before—jittery, a million thoughts going through your mind all at once.

You decided it might be a good course of action to get a glass of water to help you calm down and relieve the dryness in your throat that further prevented you from going back to sleep. You quietly tip-toed out of Sokka’s bedroom. You noticed multiple papers with sketches and diagrams from his engineering classes scattered about the room, and it gave you a little bit of comfort.

You tried to be as quiet as possible so as not to disturb the others, who were all fast asleep in the living room. You quickly got your glass of water and downed it, not wanting to bring it into Sokka’s room and risk spilling on any of his stuff. You made your way back to his room and crawled back under the covers. No sooner had you pulled the blanket up over yourself did you hear the door open once again.

“Oh.” Sokka’s frame stood in the doorway. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. I was just coming in to get something.”

“It’s okay, I wasn’t asleep,” you said, sitting up.

“Oh.” A beat. “Are you okay?”

The tone of his voice made you pause. It was how he’d been talking to you for weeks, save for last night.

“Yeah.” You put a hand to your head, trying to clear your thinking. “I think I’m just a bit stressed after all of the driving and stuff. I hate it.” You gave a dry laugh, and you could see Sokka approach you in the dark.

“I thought you said the drive went fine,” Sokka pressed, now standing next to you.

“It did!” You assured him. “I just don’t like driving, especially at night. It makes me nervous. Why did you think I was calling so much?”

“Oh,” Sokka said dumbly. He was close enough now that you could make out his features. He frowned at you. “Can I sit?” He asked after a long pause. You nodded and awkwardly scooched over to make space for him.

“You know, if you wanted someone to drive with you, I could’ve gone.”

“Sokka,” you laughed, “it’s 8 hours. What could you possibly do to stay entertained up there for three days?”

Sokka shrugged and smiled at you. “I have friends over that direction.”

“Of course you do,” you rolled your eyes. Sokka somehow knew everybody and was friends with almost everyone he knew.

“Plus,” Sokka bumped his shoulder against yours, “I think your parents would love me.” You elbowed him in response, trying to quell the fluttering of your heart and the words that threatened to bubble up from your throat.

“Seriously,” Sokka told you finally, turning to look at you. Even in the dark, his eyes were startlingly blue. “I could’ve at least stayed on the phone with you for a bit.

“I don’t want to ask that of you. You have more important things to do.”

“No, I really don’t,” Sokka said, looking you in the eye. You gulped in the silence, and suddenly everything felt like too much. You could feel his leg up against yours, and his eyes were so blue, and his hair was hanging out of his ponytail, and he said it like he meant it, and you were surrounded by his drawings and his smell and I like you I like you I like you and—

“I like you.”

For a moment you thought you had spoken your thoughts aloud, but that wasn’t your voice, and Sokka was still looking at you and there was something about his expression, and—oh. You sat there with your mouth hanging open.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, I shouldn’t have said that, and…” He trailed off when you put your hand on his chest to stop him.

“Are you joking?” You asked plainly, looking up at him. Sokka stared back.

“…no.”

With just that one little word you felt the thoughts you’d been holding back for the past months flood up, as if a dam had been broken, and there were so many things that you wanted to say all at once, but your mouth wasn’t working.

“Me, too,” you replied dumbly, and Sokka cocked his head at you.

“What?”

“I like you, too,” you mumbled, leaning forward to bury your face in his chest. You were sure that he’d be able to see your horrible blushing, even in the dim light. You felt Sokka chuckle a little bit.

“What was that?”

You felt your blush deepen as he gently pushed you away from him. “I like you, too,” you repeated, finally looking him in the eye. Sokka gently laid a hand on your cheek, and your eyes fluttered shut as he leaned in.

Kissing Sokka was somehow softer than you had expected. He wasn’t exactly a subtle person—loud, passionate, outgoing, and too smart for his own good—but his kiss was gentle and loving and ended way too soon.

“Do you wanna go out some time?”

“Um, obviously,” you giggled, leaning in as he wrapped you up in a hug, pulling you close.

“Just thought I’d check,” Sokka hums, hand circling your back gently as you yawn into his shoulder. “Now you need to get some sleep.”

“ZUKO, Y/N AND SOKKA ARE CANOODLING!” You and Sokka jumped, awoken by Katara’s yelling. You blinked your eyes open to see all four of your friends standing in Sokka’s bedroom doorway.

“We were not canoodling!” Sokka shouted indignantly.

“This isn’t my room, Katara. It’s not under my jurisdiction,” Zuko shrugged.

“Why couldn’t Aang and I take your room?” Katara demanded. You wiped the sleep from your eyes and felt yourself blushing.

“My room is a canoodle-free zone, Katara.”

Zuko and Katara bickered for a while, while Toph laughed and Aang stood by awkwardly, although you didn’t miss him shooting Sokka a thumbs-up. When it seemed like they’d forgotten you were there completely, Sokka cleared his throat.

“Excuse me, guys.” Katara and Zuko stopped bickering to look at him. “If you don’t mind, I want to go make Y/N and I some pancakes.” With that, Sokka stood and took your hand to pull you along with him. You blushed.

“Only if you make us some,” Toph crossed her arms and blocked your way.

“Fine, Toph,” Sokka relented, but smiled as he pulled you closer and wrapped an arm around your waist. “Good morning, by the way. Want some more pancakes?”

#sokka fanfic #atla fanfic #modern au #sokka x reader #sokka #sokka x y/n #atla

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2ns-fanfic · 7 years ago

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Letting Go

Zuko asks Aang to provide a miracle and restore hope to a village on the brink of destruction due to a famine. Aang realizes it might be time to let go of his excuses to not propose. This story is for the Kataang Week 2017 “clouds” prompt and has some sweet fluff at the beginning and end, but it has a section that is much more dramatic in the middle. This story preceeds “My Heart in My Pocket” and starts to set up some of the context that will ultimately lead to Aang and Katara’s betrothal.

Rating: T; 4,774 words

The hawk had come late in the afternoon as they had been packing up to move on after helping an Air Nomad settlement recover from a mud slide that had nearly buried the entire village. The hawks always sought Katara out, even though they had been sent to Aang because they knew she was the one more likely to reward their efforts with a strip of dried meat. Katara recognized this one at once as once of Zuko’s. Rather than alighting on her proffered arm, it landed carefully on Katara’s shoulder and affectionately leaned into the side of Katara’s face, nipping gently at her ear.

Aang laughed. “Those hawks are entirely too fond of you! What have you been feeding them?”

Katara grimaced. Aang knew she had to reward the hawks for their messages, but she didn’t think he needed to know the details. “Oh, this and that . . . besides, Zuko usually sends us the same one. He mentioned on our last visit that this one has a particular knack for finding us quickly, even when we are in a remote location.” She stretched her neck back to get a better look at the hawk, but it leaned closer to her face, rubbing its head against her cheek. She stroked its sleek back and giggled. “This one has become attached to me, I think!”

Aang abandoned the bedroll he had been tying and walked across the clearing. Reaching out a hand, he stroked the hawk’s back. “They are beautiful, but I can never tell them apart—how do you?”

Katara laughed and hiked up her shoulder to lift the bird closer to Aang’s line of sight. “Look at his leg. All of Zuko’s birds are banded with an insignia for the royal house of the Fire Nation. Do you see the beads that are linked onto the band?

“Yeah . . .” Aang reached out a finger to touch the jump ring dangling from the band. It carried three glass beads: orange, yellow, and blue.

“I think that that is how Zuko has designated anything he has set aside specifically for us. Haven’t you ever noticed that when we are in residence at the palace, he removes the Fire Nation flags that fly to either side of his own crest over the Fire Palace and runs up sets of orange, yellow, and blue pennants to indicate that we are there?”

“He does what? No . . . are you sure?”

Katara snorted in amusement at Aang’s consternation. “Even the servants that Mai assigns to our quarters wear a gold bangle that carries beads in the same colors.”

Aang groaned. “You can’t be serious . . . we can’t have servants assigned to us! I was mortified when he insisting on giving us a permanent residence in the royal wing of the palace and making us members of the royal court at their wedding. Why didn’t . . .”

Katara laughed, and grabbed his hand, shaking it. “Relax! Mai knows that. It’s a kindness to the servants. She knows we hate being waited upon, so when one of the servants is pregnant, ill, or becoming too old to serve, she assigns them to us. It gives her a legitimate excuse to allow them to continue on as part of the household without violating their honor. They perform little to no duties since we are so rarely there, and even when we are there, we never ask to be waited upon. Plus, many of the older servants have served several generations of Fire Nation royalty—it’s an honor to be trusted to be the personal servants of the Avatar and it would be a disgrace to be dismissed.

“Haven’t you noticed how often the servants find excuses to touch you and dote on you like mother lizard-hens? Since you mentioned to Itzhad how much you liked fire pears, she always makes sure that there’s an enormous bowl of them on the table every time we arrive! Mai told me that when Itzhad hears that we are coming, she hurries out to the orchard as fast as her old bones will carry her to pick them herself!” Winking at Aang, she continued, “I think that one’s quite taken with you. Truth be told, we probably have twice as many personal servants at the Fire Palace as Zuko because he can’t bear to have any of them dismissed, so Mai simply assigns them to us.”

Katara laughed when Aang groaned again. She retrieved the message from its canister on the hawk’s back and continued, “It’s not just us. Zuko does the same for Sokka and Suki, as well as Iroh and Toph. He considers us family—you know that! He can be very gallant when the mood strikes him, and deep down, I think he enjoys fussing over us. He will be a great father when the time comes.” Katara regarded Aang skeptically. “You know, this arrangement probably gives him even more enjoyment knowing how much it would annoy you if you knew.” Katara leaned into Aang’s face, the bird shifting on her shoulder to compensate. She dropped her voice, “It is my solemn honor to welcome the Avatar to the Fire Nation . . . and now that I finally have you right where I want you, you should take a nap and eat your fire pears!”

Aang rolled his eyes. It had taken some time, but over the years, a companionable, almost brotherly affection had developed between them and Zuko. They might not hear from Zuko and Mai for months, but then Katara would receive a hawk bearing a finely wrought gold hair pin a few days before her birthday, or they would receive an “urgent” summons to the Fire Nation a week before the date of the Spring Festival traditionally celebrated by air benders, only to arrive and find that whatever manufactured crisis had been resolved, but they “might as well just stay for a few days and enjoy the festival”.

“That was nothing like Zuko—I don’t think you remember what he’s like at all. Maybe the next time we visit, I’ll just leave you there a while to enjoy his hospitality—“ Aang laughed, dodging Katara’s playful slap at his shoulder, but the smile fell from his face immediately as he scanned the note. “Get your gear—we have to go.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Zuko is in the middle of trying to sort out a famine. He’s only a few hours flight from here.”

During Ozai’s reign, famines had been common. The tiniest offenses against the Fire Nation could lead to an entire region’s crops being burned, and the grip of terror often interrupted trade routes that brought vital supplies to outlying communities. After seven years of peace, though, they were almost unheard of.

Aang had heard rumors of a very removed region of the western Earth Kingdom where a land dispute had turned lethal. The rumors suggested that a band of earth bending marauders had diverted the course of a broad river that had brought fresh water and life to the valley below for generations, and now the remaining inhabitants were hovering close to death. With only rumors to go on, though, Aang didn’t know where to look to find the village. Because the village was closer to the Fire Nation than one of the great cities of the Earth Kingdom, their desperation had been sufficient to appeal to the benevolent Fire Lord himself for aid.

Zuko’s note indicated that he had been successful in rooting out the marauders, but the devastation to the land was more than he could repair. He had brought sufficient food stuffs to supply the village for a few months and seed to start their crops, but he desperately needed water to bring the village back from the brink of destruction.

While they travelled, Aang reflected on Zuko’s accomplishments and smiled at how far he had come since the first time they met. After the Hundred Years’ War, Zuko had gone to great lengths to repair the damage the Fire Nation had wrought in their world. It had taken time and a great deal of effort to win the trust of the other nations back, but Zuko was now well-respected and in some places, as well loved as the Avatar himself. Less than a decade ago, inhabitants of the Earth Kingdom would have been terrified at the thought of the Fire Lord coming to their village; now they called for his aid in times of crisis. Zuko had discovered something Sozin and Ozai could never have imagined: he held more power and respect for showing compassion, humility, and kindness than they could ever have garnered through the force of war and destruction.

Following Zuko’s directions, they neared the valley in less than three hours. From the air, the land looked perfectly fertile until they crested the last ridge. Although the peak of the mountain was still green and lush, as they flew down the slope, there was less and less green. By the time they reached the flat of the valley, there was only parched earth, cracked and barren. The bowl of the valley had become a crucible, and the heat of the day seemed to magnify as they travelled deeper into the valley. As they neared the heart of the village, they were greeted with wailing and a sweet stench that did not dissipate with the wind.

Aang lept from Appa’s saddle, his staff in hand, crouched and cautious. Katara was crouched in the saddle itself, looking for the cause of the wailing. The street was empty, with the exception of a single woman keening, kneeling in the dust and rocking, the lifeless body of a young child clasped in her arms.

Katara gathered her bag of medicines, and leapt from the saddle. “Aang!” Aang turned to see Katara in mid-leap, and he bent the air to soften her landing. Katara ran to the woman’s side but was grabbed and roughly pulled away.

“No! I can help! Let me go!” She fought like a bear-cat against the strong arms that pulled her away and pressed her close, restraining her with as much gentleness as possible.

“Katara! Look at me!” It was Zuko. He forced her around to face him. “There’s nothing you can do. Her child died two days ago, right before I arrived. We have tried to comfort her, but nothing helps. Let her mourn. More children will die if we don’t get them water by morning.” He held her for just a few moments while she continued to fight him. He continued softly, speaking into her ear so as to not disturb the mourning mother. “You can’t help her—respect her sorrow and leave her be. You have to let that one go.” Katara tore away from Zuko with a snarl but was gathered almost immediately into Aang’s arms instead.

“Let’s go see what we can do to help. Come on.”

Zuko lead them into the village. As they walked, Katara peeked into the open windows they passed. This end of the village had been transformed into a place for the dead, the earth too dry and hard to dig graves. She saw the village’s dead wrapped from head to foot in strips of cloth of many colors and laid side by side, many surrounded by wilted flowers. Loved ones had set candles at the open doors of many of the houses where they had burned down to the base, leaving inches of pooled wax on the steps.

When they reached the other end of the village, they found what remained of the village. Children laid against their mothers, too weak and listless to lift their heads or brush the insects away from their eyes and mouths. Zuko’s men moved quietly between the villagers with bowls of rice and skins of water, trying desperately to encourage the living to eat.

“Why won’t they eat?” Katara was twisting the strap of her medicine bag between her hands in distress. “You brought food and water . . . why won’t they eat it?”

“We’ve been trying for two days. Many of these people are just hours from dying, but they don’t want food and water . . . they want hope.” Zuko turned and looked at Aang. “That’s why I sent for you. They need a miracle, not a meal.”

Aang turned slowly on the spot, observing the entire bowl of the valley. Sliding his feet apart into a wide low stance, he slammed a foot into the earth and closed his eyes. Following the vibrations in the earth with his mind, he could see where the path of the river should be, and he saw where the river had been diverted away to the opposite side of the mountain. He could move the river easy enough, but it was summer. The snow pack that fed the river wouldn’t be enough to revive land starved for months; if he wasn’t careful, it would just cause a flood that would destroy the village completely.

Aang turned his head over his shoulder to look at Zuko. “What kind of miracle do they need?”

“The elders have been praying for sacred rain. They say . . .” Zuko huffed in frustration. “They say legends tell of a sacred rain that will wash over the land, and the spirits will provide nourishment from the stones themselves. I believe they won’t even try to save themselves until it rains.”

Katara looked up at the cloudless sky. “How long has it been since it rained here?”

“Six weeks. They have been managing off of the dregs of water from the last rain, but it is gone.”

“Aang, how far are we from the coast?”

Aang turned to Katara, “It would take Appa two days to fly to the coast.”

Katara crossed her arms and and smirked. “That will work. We’ve got a full moon tonight . . .” Katara turned to Zuko, “ . . . and you’ve got two master water benders.”

In the gathering dusk, Zuko’s men had retired, leaving only Katara, Aang, and Zuko in the center of the village. Turning to Katara, Zuko asked, “Have you ever made it rain before?”

“No . . . I don’t have the power alone. We need to move an enormous amount of water, and we will need the power of the full moon. We can’t just drop salt water onto the land—it will destroy the crop land, and they will never be able to grow anything here again. The water will have to be warm enough to lift into the clouds but leave the salt behind, and Aang will need to move the clouds, but I think between the two of us we can do it.”

“I don’t think we have a choice. If they need rain, then we have to find a way to make it rain.” Aang had taken off his summer robes that he wore looped over one shoulder and belted at the waist and dropped them on the ground. He tugged the strap of Katara’s bag. It’s going to be windy where we’re going. You need to leave this here.”

Katara dropped her bag on top of Aang’s robes, followed by her obi and her long, traditional Water Tribe gi, revealing the halter she wore beneath. Aang stepped close behind her, wrapped an arm around her waist, and pulled her tight to his bare chest. “Hold on." Katara leaned back into him and braced her hands on his hips.

Aang thrust his empty hand down to the earth, twisted at the wrist, and then ripped it up over their heads. Katara and Aang leaned into one another, bracing themselves as a column of stone raised beneath them, thrusting them skyward. While they had waited for moonrise, Katara and Aang had discussed what they would do, and they agreed that they needed to be able to see the coast to really make this work.

When the column stopped abruptly, Katara nearly lost her balance, but Aang pulled her back. “Are you OK?” Frightened and breathless, Katara squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. Aang let go of her waist long enough to reach down with both hands, and bring them up twisting, causing stone to spiral up over their feet and ankles, effectively locking them into the stone. “Better?”

“Much.”

From this height, much of the western Earth Kingdom spread out before them, while they stood suspended in a dense field of stars. The coast was a black ribbon of velvet, distant but visible, the life-giving sea sparkling just beyond. The full moon had just crested over the mountains, and Katara and Aang could feel their blood stir, the power of their bending unfurling like tendrils of smoke within their veins.

Katara closed her eyes and laid her head back into Aang’s shoulder feeling the warmth of his body pouring into her back, his wiry strength and taught muscles supporting her own softer curves. Aang closed his own eyes, dropping his face into the hollow between her neck and shoulder and placing a soft kiss there. He relaxed into her weight and rested his head on hers, breathing the scent of her hair. They had agreed to wait until the moon reached her apex when their water bending would peak for the most difficult part of the task. In the meantime, they waited.

Though only a few minutes had passed, Aang could start to feel the subtle changes he had noticed the moonrise always brought. This time, though, they were dramatically amplified by Katara’s closeness, her bare skin pressed against his own. He felt the power of his bending vibrate through every muscle, demanding to be unleashed; Katara trembled against him, feeling the same energy flood through her own body.

A full moon always left them restless and unable to sleep. When they laid in camp only inches apart, it was as though he could feel her blood stirring as well, the coiled power blooming in her body, and it called to him. When he was younger, he had thought that it was simply his own bending responding to the moon. As he approached manhood, he noticed that his proximity to her dramatically affected his response to the moonrise. On the few times he’d allowed himself the pleasure of drawing Katara into his arms on the night of the full moon, he’d found it nearly impossible to control his desire when he realized that it was matched by her own. One of them would always eventually break away, trembling and breathless, afraid to allow their need to run its course. As a result, he always anticipated the full moon with brittle expectation, both relishing the passion that would rise within and between them but dreading the moment when one of them would inevitably pull away. Though they never discussed it, the tension had grown steadily through the years of travelling alone together to resolve one crisis after another, and he knew that the night would come when it would become too much to bear.

A shudder ran through Katara’s body. Aang ran his hands over her bare arms, cool in the night air. “Are you cold?”

Katara sighed with pleasure at the heat that flowed through his hands to her chilled skin. “A little, but that feels nice.” She wriggled slightly and curved her back so that it fit tighter against his chest and her hips pressed deeper against him.

Aang allowed his lips to find their way to the skin behind her ear, and he kissed a path down the side of her slender neck as he continued to slowly caress her arms. Encouraged by her soft “mmmm”, he continued down the slope of her shoulder, alternating between soft kisses and gently sucking her bare skin. With their feet locked into the column of stone, she was unable to turn to meet his kisses, so she twisted to the side, resting her head in the hollow of his shoulder and she lifted her face in the moonlight to meet his hungry mouth. He wrapped his arms around her and clasped them at her waist, cradling her as she relaxed into his kiss. Aang drew in a deep breath of pleasure as Katara’s hands slid down his hips to curve around his thighs, pulling him closer.

When Katara opened her eyes, they were full of starlight, and she was gilded in silver by the moon. She sighed as he kissed the shape of her jaw, and her breath caught as he tasted the soft skin of her throat, salty from the heat of a day spent travelling. Sighing, Katara whispered, “I’m so sorry, but it’s the moon’s nearly risen . . . we should get ready.”

“I know.” The moonlight filled Aang’s grey eyes, and when she looked at him, she saw a lifetime of longing looking back at her. She reached up and stroked the side of his face, and when she pressed her palm against his cheek, he turned his face into her hand, kissing the palm. She pulled him close for a final slow kiss, and then she carefully twisted away, only reluctantly drawing her gaze away from his.

They straightened together, and Aang rested his forehead on her shoulder, eyes closed and willing his heart and breath to slow. After a few minutes, he could hear and feel Katara’s breath had slowed as well, matching his own, and she could feel his heart beating through her back and knew that their hearts beat nearly in time with one another. He dropped his hands from where they had come to rest on her hips, and he briefly clasped her hands, already relaxed at her sides in preparation to bend.

In order for their bending to be powerful enough for what they were about to attempt, they would need to be completely in sync, move for move, breath for breath. He didn’t dare attempt the Avatar state with her pressed against him . . . the result could be disastrous.

Aang curled around her, crouching slightly so that his chin hovered over her shoulder and the side of his face nearly touched hers, close enough to feel the waves of heat and the power that seemed to radiate from her. They both concentrated on the foam of the surf, a thin undulating ribbon miles away and barely visible in the moonlight. They breathed in together, out, in . . . and on the third breath, they raised their arms together, his broader shoulders and longer arms wrapping neatly around hers, hands hovering in the crisp air side by side.

They moved as one, pushing the water back from the sand, sweeping their hands left, drawing them back past Katara’s heart, over her shoulder, past Aang’s ear, holding the waves with the left hand, while right arms extended back, drawing the water from deeper in the sea, then sweeping both hands back to the center. On the second and third repetitions of the form, they leaned deeper into the pull of the ocean, Katara supporting Aang’s weight as he bent over her, pressing his chest into her back as they reached out to pull up more water. Aang supported Katara’s weight as they leaned back together, circling their right arms wide from her heart, over their faces, now pressed together at the temple, the move continuing far beyond Katara’s reach to the tips of Aang’s fingers. They could hear the water gathering together into a knot that swirled over the surface of the ocean. As Katara continued the form, drawing more and more water into the gathering maelstrom, Aang heated the water from within, the motions of his new form diving into and around Katara’s, elegantly twisting out of the way as she drew her arm back over Aang’s shoulder. As they worked, the water dissolved at first into delicate tendrils of steam which turned into billows as the heat within the maelstrom increased. Eventually, the steam began to gather into clouds, and lightning began to shimmer from deep within the thunderhead.

Now their forms changed, Katara holding the water imprisoned in the clouds by circling her raised left palm before her face, extending it, and pulling it back, the right hand circling in the opposite direction palm down, extending and then circling back over the top of her head. Aang’s arms extended past her ribs, reaching out to draw the wind towards them, bringing the thunderhead closer. As Aang leaned back into the form, Katara followed his movements, swaying back against his chest, her arms aloft, then bending forward, Aang’s face pressed to the damp curve of her back.

Twice more they swayed through Aang’s form, and tendrils of cloud had started to creep past their feet, locked into the grip of the stone column. From over her shoulder as they leaned back together to draw the wind, Katara heard, “Almost there . . . hold the rain through just two more cycles!”

On the next repetition of the form, Katara felt the temperature drop rapidly and the wind picked up, lifting the damp hair off her face and away from her neck. Aang laughed, and she knew that they had nearly managed to move the storm into position. On the last repetition of the form, Aang leaned deeper and slower into the form, planting a row of kisses along her spine and up the back of her neck. Katara drew in a quick breath, surprised, and the pattern of her bending faltered, allowing rain to begin to fall. As they leaned back to complete his form, Aang swept his right hand around her and wrapped an arm around her waist, while sliding the left hand up her thigh, past her hip and over her ribs, wrapping gently around her arm as he slid his hand past elbow and wrist to entwine with her fingers, finishing their forms in full extension. When she turned to look at him over her right shoulder, he captured her mouth in a deep kiss.

“It’s time to let go.”

Katara relaxed the tension in her body that had held the rain in the clouds, and the clouds opened into a steady pour, the thunder reverberating in their bones. She felt the stone around her feet and ankles release, and pushed down a rising panic of vertigo as Aang allowed them to fall gracefully off the top of the column. He brought their entwined hands to her waist and tightened his hold, pulling her against him and leaning back into the fall, supporting her as they spiraled down through the rain. Katara laid her head back against his shoulder and they both watched as lightning illuminated the cloud.

When Aang set Katara back into the street, the villagers had begun to emerge from their homes, hands raised aloft to catch the rain. Their miracle had come, and they were saved. Katara looked out over a forest of thin arms reached out, trembling hands cupped together to catch the rain. Zuko’s men emerged from the shadows, pressing bowls of steaming rice into now eager hands.

Aang looked up and smiled into the rain, and felt Katara’s arms wrap around his waist. Katara squeezed him in a hug, and he felt her sigh and relax against him. Almost everything that he had been able to accomplish in his life was made possible by Katara, and the attraction and need between them was becoming physically painful to put aside. Perhaps the time had come for him to let go of all the excuses he found to delay proposing to her . . .

Aang turned when he heard Zuko splashing towards them through the rain.

“Thank you, my friend. You never fail to astonish.”

“Thank you, Zuko. You always come to the aid of those who call. Without you, we wouldn’t have known to come here, and you have supplied the town with what they will need to survive the coming months.

“So little of the good we do in the world can be done alone.” Looking over his shoulder, Aang could see Katara beaming up at him. “It takes heat, water, and wind, working together, to build up enough strength for a storm. In the morning, the clouds will clear, and they will start to rebuild. I’ll put the river back where it belongs, and your men can start replanting the fields. Tonight, though, let’s just enjoy the rain.”

I hope you enjoyed the story--sorry it’s late--I’ve been out of town. I love getting reader feedback. Please visit the story on fanfiction.net to leave me comments: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12553523/1/Letting-Go

I also posted a new chapter to my longer story, My Heart in My Pocket, this morning. You can read it here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12535152/1/My-Heart-in-my-Pocket

#kataang-week #kataang #kataangtag #avatar: the last airbender #avatar: tla

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