ataraxia

touch

He can only touch her in his dreams.

Well, not only, but it is the least difficult means for them to reunite. Dreams are funny like that, though Aang has never been one to complain about the unique ease of access. Neither has Yue. "Always bound by duty," she says in jest, and they both know she isn't joking.

"Your dreams always have us out here at night," Yue notes with amusement as Aang braids her hair. They sit together on a beach, the cool tide lapping at their toes as white stars twinkle in the dark sky above. "Do you like being able to see the moon at the same time as me?"

Aang pauses at her comments. He's never thought about their setting before, how they are so often reunited at the witching hour. Perhaps it was a coincidence? Or simply a matter of logic, where nighttime in the real world translates to nighttime within his mind?

One glance at Yue reveals the true answer to her query.

"Because the moonlight makes you glow," Aang says, honesty ringing without shame in his tone. He continues weaving her hair into a simple braid.

Yue chuckles. "Of course. You desire to see me at what you deem my most beautiful. How superficial of you, Avatar Aang."

It's Aang's turn to laugh. "Princess, you know I don't mean it like that."

Yue hums, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. "Then tell me—how do you mean it?"

Aang pulls the last of Yue's vibrant locks into the braid, tying it off with a pale blue ribbon he didn't know he had before nudging it to rest over her right shoulder. He moves so he is sitting directly next to her. After a pause, a quiet exhale escapes his lips. "I like getting to see you." Aang slips a hand into hers. "Every side of you." Then he shoots Yue a wink. "And as I said—the silver glow is a good look."

Aang is familiar with all kinds of spirits, each one awe-inspiring and powerful in their own way, but none ever make him so speechless as when he sees Princess Yue bathed with such an ethereal light.

Yue smiles at him, squeezing his hand. When Aang meets her sharp blue eyes—a shade darker than the ribbon in her hair—they are tender, but there is an ancient wisdom behind them that reminds Aang he is never speaking solely to the Princess of the Northern Water Tribe. Although, he supposes the same can be said for himself.

"You Avatars," Yue muses affectionately. "Always treading the line between the mortal world and the spirit realm. One would think you'd learn from your mistakes."

Oh, Aang has learned. His body burns with Yangchen's regret, aches with Kuruk's grief. He knows their mistakes well. But he'd choose Yue a thousand times over.

Maybe that's the mortal in him.

"It's my job to tread that line. Besides." Aang shifts his hand in hers, lacing their fingers together. "You'd miss me if I stopped visiting."

Yue rests her head on his shoulder. "I would," she acknowledges. There is no hesitation. "I've been around a long time, Aang. I've seen a lot of things." A smile tugs at her lips. "Known a lot of Avatars, too." She hums. "And yet you alone manage to surprise me."

Aang chuckles. "Well. I'm just catering to the human in you." It's not the full truth, and they both know it. But neither says more. That would be the spirit in them, Aang realizes, and he almost laughs. Instead, he presses a kiss to the crown of Yue's head, and she gives his hand another gentle squeeze. They sit in silence, where the soft cresting of the ocean is the only sound that falls upon their ears.

Though Aang knows it is only a dream, he feels the presence of La beside—within?—him. Perhaps he knows because of how the sea rushes up to thread between his toes before it retreats. Perhaps he knows because La never truly left him all those years ago, when he channelled the might and the mourning of the ocean to overpower the Fire Nation's navy. Perhaps there is another reason entirely, a reason no mortal is privy to. Even the Avatar.

But all the same, La is there. Aang knows this. Tui knows, too, if the way Yue smiles with such easy contentment is indication of anything.

"I hate leaving you," Aang whispers. Time passes differently in dreams. Soon he will have to wake, no matter how much he wants to stay.

"You know you never really leave me," Yue says, amused. She raises her head, eyes twinkling with starry mirth. "And I wouldn't let you even if you tried."

Push and pull. The endless dance Aang shares with the princess. And though he treasures every step, it is the parts where he must pull away that make his chest ache with the weight of a thousand moons. He wants to be selfish, knows Yu wants to be selfish, too, but selfishness is in neither their nature nor their duties.

Sacrifice. That is what they are most, no, what they are too familiar with. So Aang clings to these dreams with both hands, clutches at these moments with his princess that are a step out of time.

"Let me rephrase." Aang lifts his other hand to cup Yue's cheek, tracing the edge of her lips with his thumb. "I hate not being able to touch you." Here, in his dreams, the moon and the Princess of the Northern Water Tribe both glow, separate yet intertwined. In the mortal realm, their bond is far more literal, and Aang can only feel her within his beating heart. But to feel... to feel has never been the same as to touch.

Yue stares at him, into him, through him. She nods, slowly. "I understand." Her lips brush against his thumb as she speaks and spirits, Aang wants this moment to last forever. But he knows, sees, feels. The glow is weakening, the stars are dimming, her touch is fading—

Aang closes his eyes, leans in to press his lips against hers. When he opens them again, the sky is blue, the stars are gone, and he is alone. Well, alone with the exception of Appa snoring behind him. The steady hum of his sky bison makes Aang smile.

He can still see the crescent moon tucked away behind the trees, though. Aang always sees her. Always looks for her. It's a habit that can't be helped.

Aang sighs, slowly getting to his feet. His hands are warm. Warm, but empty.

Yue's touch never lingers.