(Zutara) Let Me Pretend; Your Soul is Winter Fire

Watching and Waiting

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Four Months Previously:

The Cave of Two Lovers

Aang's octopus stance is near flawless, but Katara knows Sokka hasn't been sleeping. He's quick to take the first watch, and she knows more time passes than he lets on when he finally wakes her or Aang to take over. She feels the moon in her blood after all. She knows the nights like they're ingrained in her soul. And she knows her brother's grief is still fresh. She's had similar sleepless nights for years, ever since their mother's death.

Lounging on his leaf, drifting contentedly between her and Aang, is the most relaxed she's seen Sokka in weeks. Even if he is determined to move them along to Omashu. Always pushing himself. Always looking forwards for all of them because it's Aang's job to look around him, and Katara's always left a piece of herself in the past.

"You have to be done by now," he groans, the noise turning into a yawn. He didn't bother to lift his hair out of his eyes that time. "Aang knows the stance. Knows too..." He trails off into another yawn. "Let me know when you slowpokes want to go."

Her good-natured, stubborn brother flops back onto his leaf, snoring before Aang can lower the water which makes his dancing octopus. "Is he okay?"

"Tired." Katara sends a little current to sweep Sokka gently away, mindful of the noise their sparring can generate. "Show me again."

"Katara, I think I-"

"Again, Aang." He knows how seriously she takes her role as his teacher; she shouldn't have to ask twice.

He repeats the waterbending exercise without complaint, and she immediately spots the imperfection she was looking for. His arms don't cover his chest and stomach together in the way she just spent an hour showing him, and she resists the urge to shake her head. She knows his teachings are about flowing movements, lightness. She's seen his arms down in close combat, relaxed, no hint of where he might go. Moving like a leaf on the breeze has taken him far, but it also takes him backwards.

Without warning, Katara rushes in. Aang squawks in surprise, his arms flying out, but the gust of air pushes feebly against the wave she throws up, then crashes down in front of him, hooking around his submerged feet. She could take them out with a quick pull, but she's making a point, and jumps through the water to land directly in front of him. One hand plants firmly on his shoulder while the other, two fingers extended, jabs lightly into his solar plexus.

"What was your mistake?"

His chest rises and falls, a flush of embarrassed defeat rising in his cheeks. She can feel his breath on her face, she managed to get in so close. "I didn't protect my centre."

"Wrong." His brows crease over large, confused eyes. She steps back, but not far, emphasising how little space between them is left. "You relied on your assumption Waterbenders fight defensively. You let that predict my movements, so when I rushed in, you panicked."

Aang's eyes lower to the water rippling around their ankles. "I know, but I didn't fight back because I didn't want to hurt you."

That softens her. This time, when she touches his shoulder, it's gentle and reassuring. It feels more like herself. "I know." He smiles up at her. "But I'm not wrong, am I?"

He blushes again, rubs the back of his neck. "It's not what Master Pakku showed us."

"Exactly."

It was something she'd been developing herself. Unbidden, a slash of a smile rears itself in her mind, the triumphant, haughty voice taunting her before she lost consciousness at the Spirit Oasis.