Avatar The Last Airbender Fan Fiction ❯ Hidden in the Myst ❯ Some Day ( Chapter 2 )

Disclaimer: Avatar, its characters, its copyrights, storyline, etc etc belong to its owners. I just write for fun.

 

Warning: Spoilers for up to Book 3, Chapter 13 the Firebending Masters

 

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Some day, her heart whispers.

 

Through blood and violence and gore, she fights and dreams and hopes. She has always looked to the future with faith, but she never expected that faith to come with a form, with a face.

 

His; the Avatar.

 

It is hard to reconcile the awesome belief of her heart to the goofy, carefree child that she finds. It is so easy—too easy—to look past what he is supposed to be and see all that he is not. She slips into the role of a mothering sister without conscious thought, taking him under her wing as she has taken her brother. She has grown up in a village filled with little boys. His crush on her is nothing more than a fleeting thing of spring; something she finds both flattering and slightly uncomfortable.

 

In the cold chill of the North, she is measured against those of her own kind and found worthy; worthy to teach the Avatar, worthy to stand by his side, worthy to follow him as a warrior. During the dark death of the moon, she leaves her childhood and becomes a young woman. She is only fourteen.

 

He is the Avatar, and he is a twelve year old child. His nightmares come to haunt him at night and—when they are especially fierce or their situation is especially bleak—she makes the concession of kissing him on the forehead and assuring him everything will be alright. She gives him the love and support a child needs, platonic and unshakable.

 

She is there to bear witness as his power eclipses hers, as he steps onto the path of his destiny, as he faces the fight he alone can win. Her belief is rewarded and tested in turn, until the darkest hour comes and she stands firm, saving him from oblivion. She learns how much he means to her, not as a savior, but as a person.

 

His kiss changes everything.

 

A child; a monk; a vegetarian. A prankster and practical joker who bears the weight of the world on his small shoulders. She should see the ridiculousness of it; instead she only sees him succeeding where grown men would fail. She respects him too much to shrug off the seriousness of his unspoken feelings, no matter how young. When his confession comes, she will think of him as a man and listen to what her heart tells her. Yet she fears her answer will not be the one he wants to hear.

 

Only at night, in the dark, when his nightmares come again is she less sure of herself. Her fingers find the smooth surface of his forehead by feel alone, her voice refusing to come as she chokes on the comfortable lies one tells a child. She finds herself empty of the platitudes that might ease his slumber. Uneasy, afraid he will wake, she stoops to give him his kiss…only to hesitate.

 

The moon, gentle in her light, seems to wink as a cloud drifts over her face. Katara is reminded of love and loss, and of those things she might regret if fate steals away her choices.

 

Barely daring to breathe, she ghosts her lips over his.

 

It is nothing more than a possibility, a tiny glimmer of a beginning, but it satisfies her as, with a quiet sigh, he settles into deeper, dreamless sleep. She does not let herself linger, turning instead to resume her own rest. Her drift from consciousness into dreams is an easy one, as fluid as water, as inescapable as destiny.

 

Some day, her heart whispers, Some day…

 

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