#fff308

"I know," I tell my shadow; "I know. You're unloved and mistreated. You've never known a scrap of kindness in your whole life. I bet you've never been fed either." A glance through into the kitchen reveals that for the lie it is: the dish I'd set out not five minutes ago is suspiciously, tellingly empty. Truly, this is the most neglected beast to have ever lived.

(The said beast takes advantage of my momentary hesitation to map figure-eights around my ankles, tail lashing, still wailing.)

"You're not having second-dinner."

The beast pauses in its quest to discover the secrets of perpetual motion. A little louder: "Aouou-aou—"

I sidestep the complaints, and make for the sofa. The wailing creature continues to pursue. No sooner have I sat down than a little weight leaps into the space next to me, and immediately starts a sharp procession across my lap, still litigating my many, many crimes.

I try placation — "I know, you're right, I'm sorry." I try negotiation — "What is it, hmm? What do you want?" I try, in my clumsy human way, to trill responses to the persistent meows and mrrps my companion has to offer.

(I don't offer the t-r-e-a-t-s word yet. That's the tactic for when all else has failed.)

And after a minute or so more of this, my shadow climbs back down into the space by my side, front legs propped up on my lap, hind-legs and belly hunkering down over my unguarded hand in a clear hostage situation.

"Oh, that's your hand now?" 

I reach across with the other and tousle that soft little head, gently cup and scrunch from cheek around to little triangle ear; the beast answers with a rumbling purr peppered with strange, hitching squeaks. Of course, that turns into a sound of reproach when I dare to lift my spare hand away. That's me told: no checking my phone, then. I press a kiss between those triangle ears and settle back into the rhythm of petting, bolstered by the motor-loud purrs, which show no sign of abating.

If this is to be the price of peace, then surrendering the free use of my hands is practically a bargain....

A twitch of the tail is all the warning I am given: mercurial in temperament, the beast suddenly stands up and withdraws, though not without first aiming a nip at my no-longer-captive wrist.

"Oh, was I touching the forbidden belly fluff?" I call after the cat's retreating back, too amused to be annoyed, and unable to not laugh when one ear flicks, just briefly, as if to say, Yes. As if it was my fault for having my hand occupy the perfect sprawling-spot, and I had ruined things for both of us.

“Meelo, would you help your father?”

“Jinora, you’re so patient with him…”

“Tenzin, please sit…”

“Tenzin, it’s right there…”

“Tenzin, stand still, i’ll pick it up…”

...

“Sister Pema, Honored Lin, please bear with me a moment. Let me get him prepared for bed, and I’ll join you in the sitting room.”

The wives looked at each other, and saw each other’s face, drawn and defeated. When Lin dropped her eyes to the floor, Pema placed her hands on her shoulders. Gently, slowly, they guided the wheelchair to the sitting room.

Pema found a spot where they could sit at an angle. Lin was close enough to touch, but didn’t have to be obvious about avoiding eye contact. It was a sign of her distress that she hadn’t wiped away the one tear.

Pema knew better than to draw attention to it.

The silence stretched.

Pema startled when she realized Lin was reaching out for her hand. But even her hand, still so warm, was slack with dejection.

Her heart broke all over again.

They heard the scuff of acolyte shoes at the threshold. Lin startled and jerked her hand away.

It hurt, just like it always had. Even here, where everyone know what they were to each other, Lin still feld the need for propriety.

Pema squelched her sigh. This wasn’t the time.

Brother Yonten stepped around Lin’s wheelchair until he could face them both. Pema gave a passing thought to how little his expression ever changed - rarely smiling, but never frowning, either. His downcast demeanor, as he knelt in front of them, emphasized how unhappy he was to be part of this unwelcome conversation.

“Sister Pema, Master Lin. We are all saddened to see Master Tenzin struggling so frequently with his verbal expression and his kinesthetic balance. I remember watching him demonstrate so many advanced forms to your children and the Harmonic Benders. It hurts to see him unable to stand without support.”

A new tear glistened on Lin’s cheek.

“You have shared with me how difficult it has been to keep him in your family quarters, how often he has stumbled against the steps of the kang in your room. You are wise to recognize that a change is for the best.”

He paused again, granting them time to consider his words. She met his eyes, and the way he gently raised his brow assured her that he shared in their pain.

Beside them, Lin snorted. “I tried that contraption Varrick’s kid sent over, but I couldn’t manage those braces and my wheelchair at the same time. It’s not like I’m that much younger than he is.”

She looked over at Pema, her lips as tightly pressed as they used to be, years and years ago.

Pema reached up to caress Lin’s cheek, and rubbed the tear away. She felt the faintest pressure from Lin before she knew to withdraw her hand.

But when she did, Lin had relaxed the tension in her face, leaving only sadness. They gazed at each other until Lin slowly closed her eyes and turned back toward Brother Yonten.

He inclined his head and continued, “When I left him, Master Tenzin was already asleep. The draught I gave him is very dilute and gentle, but still effective. He is likely to remain asleep for most of the night. One of our staff will check on him every hour tonight, and for the next week. We expect him to experience some disorientation, but that will likely wear off as time goes by.”

He sighed. “Unfortunately, I expect you will experience the same.”

Pema was so focused on the window she could see over Yonten’s shoulder, she was caught off guard by Lin’s sudden grip on her hand.

“Thank you for trusting us with Master Tenzin’s care. My experience in assisting elderly firebenders may be useful, but he will be our first powerful airbender to care for in his elder years. We are not entirely sure how his bending will change as he continues to age.”

Pema very much wanted someone to shake her awake, reassure her that this was all just a bad dream, and that life would return to normal. Her tall, imposing husband, and her tall, imposing wife, both focused on the future, ready at a moment’s notice to answer the call.

But at the sharp squeeze from Lin, Pema looked up, and she breathed away the fantasy of it all.

“It is for the best,” Lin said with resolute regret. “We have to let him stay here, where he can be safe.”

Pema searched Lin’s eyes. “Walking away is the price of the peace we all need.”