One true pairing?! But there's so many to choose from

—

Below them, the battlefield was already set.

A ring of armored fighters—mercenaries by the look of them—stood spread out across the cracked earth. Their stances were tense, coordinated. Firebenders, earthbenders, even a waterbender or two.

And at the center of it all…

…stood one girl.

Still. Silent. Alone.

Miralyn Vesper.

Her dark hair hung loose around her shoulders, barely moving despite the charged air. Her expression was unreadable—calm in a way that didn’t belong on a battlefield.

“You’re surrounded!” one of the men shouted, though his voice wavered. “There’s nowhere left to run!”

She didn’t respond.

Didn’t move.

Didn’t even look at him.

Up above, Appa dipped lower, the group watching closely.

“Okay,” Sokka whispered, “either she’s incredibly brave… or incredibly bad at situational awareness.”

Katara shook her head slowly. “No… look at them.”

They weren’t advancing.

They were waiting.

Afraid.

Toph’s brow furrowed. “They’re the ones cornered,” she said.

Aang’s eyes widened slightly.

“What… is she?”

—

“Last chance!” another attacker barked, trying—and failing—to sound confident. “Surrender!”

Miralyn blinked.

Slowly… she lifted her gaze.

The moment her eyes met theirs—

—the world shifted.

The first move came from the attackers.

Fire roared to life, spiraling forward in a coordinated strike. At the same time, earth cracked upward, jagged stone spearing toward her from below. Water surged from skins, snapping into whips. Air bent violently, pressure slamming inward from all sides.

A perfect, overwhelming assault.

Aang leaned forward sharply. “We have to help—!”

He never finished the sentence.

Because the attack… stopped.

Not slowed.

Not deflected.

Stopped.

Mid-air.

Flames hung frozen, flickering without heat. Water curved like glass, suspended inches from impact. Stone halted mid-surge, cracked edges trembling but unmoving. Even the air—visible in swirling distortions—ceased its motion.

Silence fell again.

Deeper this time.

Sokka blinked. “Okay. I take it back. That’s not normal.”

Katara stared, breath caught. “She didn’t even move…”

Toph’s voice dropped. “…She didn’t bend.”

At the center of it all, Miralyn tilted her head slightly.

Like she was examining something uninteresting.

Then—

she stepped forward.

Everything moved with her.

The frozen elements didn’t fall or shatter—they shifted, parting around her as if making way.

A flick of her gaze—

—and the flames went out.

Just… gone.

The water dropped harmlessly to the ground.

The stone lowered back into place, cracks sealing like they had never formed.

The air stilled completely.

One of the attackers stumbled back. “What—what are you—?!”

She raised her hand.

Not dramatically.

Not forcefully.

Just… raised it.

The ground beneath them trembled.

Then it lifted.

A low, crushing pressure forced every attacker to their knees at once, the earth itself pinning them down. Not violently—but completely.

Unavoidable.

Unbreakable.

Aang’s heart pounded. He had never seen bending like this—had never even imagined it.

This wasn’t control.

This was authority.

Miralyn’s eyes moved across them, distant.

“You came prepared,” she said softly.

Her voice wasn’t loud.

But it carried.

Effortlessly.

“And still thought it would matter.”

No one answered.

They couldn’t.

The pressure increased just slightly—not enough to harm, but enough to remind them.

Then, just as easily— she lowered her hand.

The force vanished.

The earth settled.

The air returned.

The world… resumed.

The attackers didn’t hesitate this time.

They ran.

Not in formation. Not with pride.

They fled.

—

Silence lingered in their wake.

Miralyn stood alone again, as if nothing had happened.

As if the world hadn’t just bent itself to her will.

Above, no one spoke for a long moment.

Then Sokka whispered, “So… we’re not fighting her, right? That’s not the plan?”

Katara didn’t answer.

Toph exhaled slowly. “I’ve never felt anything like that.”

Aang’s eyes stayed locked on the girl below.

There was no anger in her.

No strain.

No triumph.

Just… stillness.

And something else.

Something he couldn’t quite name.

“We’re going down,” he said quietly.

—

Appa landed with a soft but heavy thud a short distance away.

Miralyn didn’t turn immediately.

But she knew they were there.

Of course she did.

Aang stepped forward first, careful, calm. “Hey,” he called gently. “Are you—”

Her gaze snapped to him.

Not aggressive.

Not surprised.

Just… aware.

For a moment, the air shifted again—not violently, but enough to send a chill down Katara’s spine.

Then it steadied.

Aang offered a small, hopeful smile. “My name’s Aang.”

A pause.

Her eyes lingered on him longer than the others.

As if… something about him was different.

“I know,” she said.

Sokka blinked. “Oh good. That’s not ominous at all.”

Katara shot him a look, then stepped forward slightly. “We saw what happened. Those people—were they after you?”

Miralyn’s gaze drifted briefly to the direction the attackers had fled.

“They usually are.”

Toph crossed her arms. “Yeah, I can’t imagine why.”

Silence again.

Then— a new presence.

A flicker of heat in the distance.

Aang felt it immediately.

So did Katara.

Toph tilted her head. “…Someone else is coming.”

From the ridge above, a figure stepped into view—outlined by firelight, eyes sharp and unyielding.

Zuko.

His gaze locked instantly onto Miralyn.

Not confused.

Not afraid.

Focused.

Intent.

Then his eyes flicked to Aang—and narrowed.

“Of course you’re here,” Zuko said, voice low.

Sokka groaned under his breath. “Great. This just got worse.”

But Miralyn didn’t look away from Zuko.

And Zuko didn’t look away from her.

Two forces.

Completely different.

Equally unyielding.

Aang stepped slightly forward, tension rising. “Zuko, wait—”

But Zuko barely seemed to hear him.

His attention stayed on Miralyn.

“…You’re the one they’ve been talking about,” he said.

Not a question.

A statement.

Miralyn’s expression didn’t change.

“And you’re late,” she replied quietly.

For the first time— Zuko smirked.

Aang felt something twist in his chest.

Not fear.

Not exactly.

Something else.

Because the way Zuko looked at her— wasn’t just as an enemy.

And the way she looked back— wasn’t indifference.

Not entirely.

The air shifted again, subtle but undeniable.

A tension forming.

Not just between enemies.

But something more complicated.

Something dangerous in a completely different way.

Aang glanced between them… then back at Miralyn.

And for the first time since landing— he wasn’t just wondering what she was. He was wondering where he stood.

And why it suddenly felt like it mattered.

—

The air didn’t relax.

Even after the fight… even after the silence… even with no one attacking—something still lingered between them. Thick. Unspoken.

No one moved first.

Not Aang.

Not Zuko.

Not even Miralyn.

It was Sokka, of course, who cracked.

“Okay,” he said, gesturing vaguely at… everything. “I think we’re all thinking it, so I’m just gonna say it—what was that?”

Miralyn’s gaze shifted to him slowly.

Not annoyed.

Not amused.

Just… measuring.

“A failed attempt,” she said.

Sokka blinked. “Right. Obviously. I meant the other thing. The… stopping-all-the-elements-mid-air-like-the-world-glitched thing.”

A pause.

Miralyn tilted her head slightly, as if deciding how much to say.

“They tried to bend,” she said simply.

Toph frowned. “Yeah. And then they… didn’t.”

“They couldn’t,” Miralyn corrected.

That landed heavier.

Katara stepped forward just a bit. “How?” she asked, voice steady but cautious. “Even the most skilled benders can’t just… shut other people down like that.”

Aang’s eyes stayed fixed on Miralyn. “Not even the Avatar.”

Miralyn looked at him again.

That same pause.

Like she was seeing something layered beneath him.

“You ask the elements for permission,” she said.

Aang’s brow furrowed slightly. “…What?”

“You move with them. Guide them. Borrow their strength.” Her voice remained calm, almost distant. “That’s bending.”

A faint shift in the wind curled around her, subtle but deliberate.

“I don’t.”

Silence.

Zuko’s eyes narrowed. “Then what do you do?”

For the first time— Miralyn’s expression changed.

Not into a smile.

But something close to certainty.

“I don’t bend the elements,” she said.

“I decide what they are allowed to do.”

The words settled like weight.

Sokka let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh. “Okay, yeah, no, that’s worse.”

Toph took a step forward, her bare foot pressing into the earth.

“I need to feel this,” she muttered.

Miralyn didn’t stop her.

Toph slammed her heel down—

Earth surged upward, a sharp column aimed straight for Miralyn.

It never reached her.

Not because it broke.

Not because it missed.

It simply… stopped.

Hovering inches away.

Toph froze.

Her connection to the earth—normally so clear, so constant—felt… interrupted.

Like someone else had picked up the line.

“…That’s not possible,” Toph said under her breath.

Miralyn didn’t look at the stone.

She looked at Toph.

“It is when the earth listens to me first.”

With a slight shift of her fingers— the column lowered.

Not dropped.

Lowered.

Like it was obeying.

Toph stepped back, something like disbelief flickering across her face. “You didn’t just block me,” she said. “You… overrode me.”

Miralyn said nothing.

Katara moved next.

Water flowed from her skin in a smooth, controlled ribbon—sharp, precise.

It curved toward Miralyn—

Then froze.

Suspended.

Katara’s eyes widened slightly as she tried to pull it back.

It didn’t respond.

“…I can’t feel it,” she said quietly.

Miralyn’s gaze flicked briefly to the water—then back to Katara.

“You’re reaching for it,” she said.

Another small movement of her hand—

The water shifted… then returned to Katara’s control.

Katara pulled it back instantly, the liquid snapping into place at her side.

Aang stepped forward now.

Slowly.

“You can do that to… all of them?” he asked.

Miralyn didn’t hesitate.

“Yes.”

Zuko’s jaw tightened. “Fire too?”

She looked at him.

This time, there was something sharper in her gaze.

“Try.”

Zuko didn’t need to be told twice.

Fire burst from his hands—controlled, precise, fast.

It surged forward—

And stopped.

Just like the others.

Frozen in midair.

Zuko pushed harder—flame flaring brighter, hotter—

Nothing.

The fire didn’t move.

Didn’t respond.

It wasn’t his anymore.

Miralyn stepped closer.

The flames hovered between them, casting flickering light across both their faces.

Then — they vanished.

Not extinguished.

Gone.

Zuko’s expression didn’t break—but something in his eyes shifted.

“…You didn’t redirect it,” he said quietly.

“No,” Miralyn replied.

A beat.

“I ended it.”

Silence fell again.

Heavier this time.

Sokka slowly raised a hand. “I just want to go on record and say I officially hate fighting people like you.”

No one laughed.

Aang exhaled slowly, trying to process.

“You can control all four elements… at once,” he said. “You can stop other benders completely… and you don’t even need to move.”

Miralyn nodded once.

“That’s not even all of it, is it?” Katara asked.

Miralyn’s gaze drifted briefly to the horizon.

“No.”

The single word tightened something in the air.

Zuko crossed his arms slightly. “Then say it.”

Another pause.

Miralyn didn’t seem hesitant.

Just… precise.

“I can change temperature,” she said. “Anywhere. Instantly.”

The air around them dropped.

Not gradually.

Not naturally.

One second it was warm—

The next, frost laced across the edges of Katara’s sleeve.

Sokka shivered. “Okay—yep—felt that.”

Then— heat.

A sudden, dry warmth swept through, evaporating the frost in a blink.

“I can move water without a source,” Miralyn continued.

Moisture in the air condensed—tiny droplets forming, swirling faintly between them.

“I can compress air.”

A subtle pressure pushed inward—not painful, but undeniable.

“I can reshape land.”

The ground beneath them shifted slightly, leveling itself.

“I can redirect or disperse energy.”

Aang’s breath caught at that.

“And,” she added quietly, “I can stop all of it.”

The wind stilled.

Completely.

No rustle.

No movement.

Nothing.

For a brief, impossible second—

the world felt… paused.

Then it returned.

Like a held breath finally released.

No one spoke.

Not immediately.

Because there wasn’t really anything to say.

Toph was the first to break the silence.

“…Yeah,” she said slowly. “That’s… not normal.”

Sokka nodded. “That’s way past not normal. That’s like—new category entirely.”

Katara’s eyes stayed on Miralyn. “How long have you been able to do this?”

“Always.”

Zuko studied her carefully. “And you’ve never lost control?”

Miralyn looked at him.

Another pause.

“Control isn’t the problem.”

That answer didn’t comfort anyone.

Aang stepped forward again, softer this time.

“Then what is?”

For the first time—

Miralyn didn’t answer right away.

Her gaze drifted between them.

Aang.

Katara.

Sokka.

Toph.

Then— it settled, just briefly—

on Zuko.

Something unreadable passed through her expression.

“People are,” she said finally.

The words weren’t cold.

But they weren’t warm either.

Just… true.

Silence followed.

Different now.

Heavier.

Because they all understood what she meant.

Power like that didn’t need limits.

It created them.

Aang swallowed slightly, then offered a small, careful smile.

“Well… you’re not alone now,” he said. “We can help you. Figure things out together.”

Miralyn looked at him.

Really looked this time.

Like she was trying to understand something she’d never experienced before.

Then—

a flicker of movement.

Firelight, distant.

Zuko shifted slightly, still watching her.

Not offering help.

Not stepping back either.

Just… there.

Steady.

Unyielding.

Miralyn’s gaze lingered between them—

Aang’s openness.

Zuko’s intensity.

Two completely different forces.

Both focused on her.

For the first time—

something in her expression shifted.

Subtle.

Almost imperceptible.

But it was there.

Interest.

And something far more dangerous— choice.

The air stirred again.

Not tense.

Not calm.

Something in between.

Something new.