The Price of Peace

Summary – Aang ponders the mysteries of women and what happened at Mt. Mahaku.

Interlude Two –

Bowing to the old fortuneteller, Aang backed out of his former mentor’s room. “Goodnight, Aunt Wu.”

The move from Mt. Mahaku had been exhausting, some of the villagers becoming ill from the difference in elevation. It had taken only one trip from the burned village to the Southern Air Temple. Appa had handled it with ease. After all, they had only the clothes on their backs.

Walking down the long hall, he paused by Meng’s room. To say she had changed would be an understatement. She has bumps – girl bumps. Just as he was contemplating Meng’s bumps, the door opened and wide brown eyes went wide with surprise.

Her hair was piled high on her head, resembling some intricate nest. She was dressed in a traditional monk’s robe that was two sizes too big for her. This was a monastery after all. He’d grown up here. He had never been around girls…ladies…much.

“H-hi, Aang!” she greeted him with a warm smile, tugging on the robe in an effort to protect her modesty. “What are you doing here?”

Aang was speechless. In moving the material, she had given him a glimpse of her bumps! “I uh…”

She stumbled past him, trying to walk, but her feet kept getting caught in the material of the long robe. Grabbing his shoulders, she steadied herself. “I’m sorry,” she huffed, gathering the layers around her and lifting them up.

Her feet were small, encased in white slippers. Her ankle was slender. Her calf was bare and curved into the hollow of her knee. Once she collected the material she walked past him and smiled. “Thanks, Aang.”

He watched her walk away, his eyes drawn to the slight sway of her hip. His mouth was dry, and he felt as if he had airsickness. Aside from Katara, he’d never seen so much skin on a girl before.

He had been delivered to the monastery when he was very young. He had vague memories of his mother.

“I am not sad,” she had told him. “It is a great honor… a time for joy. It is the way of our people. All boys must be sent to the monastery. When the time comes, you will choose.”

He had never taken the vow of chastity. He hadn’t been old enough. According to Monk Gyatso, he would have taken the vow on his sixteenth birthday if he had decided to seek the path and become a monk. But now it seemed pointless.

“What are you standing around for?” Sokka asked as he walked up behind him.

Aang jumped. “W-what?”

“You’ve been standing there like a lump,” Sokka replied. “Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah!” stammered Aang as he blushed. “Yep, I’m fine.”

Sokka’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, I see!”

“What?”

“You’re standing outside Meng’s door!” The Water Tribe warrior wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“So.” Aang was reminded of the time when Sokka teased him about his crush on Katara. A blush crept up his neck and settled into his cheeks.

“You should go for it,” Sokka suggested, slapping him on the back. “She certainly has filled out.”

“What do you mean?” Aang would have scratched his head, but he was too busy studying a spot on the floor to manage such a complex move.

Sokka gave Aang a strange look and walked off. “You have got to get out more.”

His frustration getting the better of him, Aang ran after his friend. “Where should I go?”

Stopping, Sokka turned and stared at his friend as if he had something strange on his face. Then he shook his head. “Even though we’ve lived here the last few years, I keep forgetting that you were raised in a monastery.”

He stared at Sokka as if the young Water Tribe warrior had all the answers in the universe.

“When a girl gets older she…uh…her…” His voice cracked. “Well…um…we have a huge library! There’s got to be a book in there about women!”

Soft giggles sounded at the end of the hall as two women walked past. Blushing, Sokka grabbed Aang by the collar of his robe and pulled him in the opposite direction.

Remembering the last time he had accepted advice from Sokka, Aang tried to back away. “Uh, never mind.”

“Do you want to know about girls or not?”

Rolling his eyes, Aang started to walk toward the library. “The last time I listened to you didn’t work. Katara didn’t even know I existed?”

“Huh?” Sokka sounded perplexed. “What are you talking about?”

“You told me to act aloof, as if I didn’t care one way or the other and Katara didn’t even bat an eyelash!” Aang scowled as he jumped onto a teetering plank that connected the library with the living quarters. There were still some parts of the monastery that he had yet to repair.

“You were after Katara!” Sokka asked incredulously as if the thought of anybody with his sister was distasteful. “Hey, wait a minute! I thought you were after Meng!”

“I am!” Aang shouted across the bottomless chasm, wincing as the echoes of the conversation carried on the wind. Sokka was standing across the way, scratching his head and looking perplexed. It would be like the blind leading the blind if he asked him about ladies.

Pushing the large library door open, Aang stopped in awe as light spilled into the vast room. There were wall-to-wall shelves, which were covered in old books. The spiraled ceiling climbed as high as the eye could see and, as far as he could see, the walls supporting the ceiling were lined with ancient volumes.

His shoulders slumped in defeat. By the time he read all these books he would be another century older. Then what good would it do him?

“…Have to fix the walkway,” Sokka’s voice carried into the library. “I almost fell trying to cross the plank. You could have… Oh wow!” He had obviously seen how extensive the library was.

“We’ll never find a book on girls in here,” Aang said, all hopes of successfully courting Meng quickly deserting him.

Sokka walked farther into the room and approached a stack of books on a table, which had been left there as if the person who had been reading them would return soon. Flipping through the dusty pages, he squinted to read the writing. “Tactics of War.”

Aang ignored him, walking through the large maze of shelves.

“Whether it be for spite or for personal gain, deception heralds the arrival of doubt. With doubt comes resentment. Through resentment come harsh words. Words are a double-edged sword. They are the weapons and tools of the diplomat. Used wisely, they heal all wounds. Used in vain, they wound deeply.” Sokka’s reading stopped and Aang continued to meander through the shelves, lost in thought.

A picture of Fire Nation soldiers harnessing lava flashed in his mind. Earthbenders! Why would Earthbenders be dressed as Fire Nation soldiers? Why would Earthbenders attack an Earth Kingdom village? The Southern Air Temple was like a self-contained world, its isolation often lending to the illusion that he was alone. Sometimes he forgot the other nations beneath the clouds.

Aang scowled, a bad feeling dampening the thrill of his current predicament. He was the Avatar – master of all four elements. The balance of those elements was the basis of life. No matter how much he wanted to, he could not ignore the other nations. They were key to everyone’s survival.

Could he survive another war? Could they? The balance between them was fragile – the peace between them tenuous. Sokka’s reading summoned a memory from long ago. Monk Sai had returned from a meeting of some sort, informing the others of the withdrawal of ambassadors. The road to war had been paved.

“Sokka!” Aang called out in a panic.

“What?” he replied.

“What day is this?” Aang ran toward the warrior’s voice.

“I don’t know,” Sokka mumbled into the desk as he tried to nap. “The days all blend together up here.”

He had missed so many already – the summits between the Air Nomads, Earth Kingdom, Fire Nation, and Water Tribes. He couldn’t miss another one. What if the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom started going at one another again? One thing was for certain. He couldn’t miss another meeting. He needed to make sure that the other nations knew what happened at Mt. Mahaku.

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TBC