Fic: The Thing with Wings
Title: The Thing with Wings
Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Rating: PG
Characters: Aang, Bumi II
Summary: Aang has a son. He's going to teach him airbending and never be alone again.
Disclaimer: Avatar: The Last Airbender and its characters belong to their creators and not me.
His son was born with coal-black hair and dark gray eyes. He was beautiful and perfect. Aang grinned like an idiot through his tears as he held him for the first time. What he had felt when Hope was born was nothing compared to this. He had a son. Aang would teach him airbending. They would make fruit pies together and bend them at people. They’d play air-ball and have air scooter races. Someday his son would have children of his own and Aang would never be alone again.
The next day, Aang took Bumi flying and the wind sang his joy.
****
At one year old Bumi ran around with his arms out and the wind ruffling through his hair. “Look, Daddy, I’m flying,” he laughed.
He was always laughing, always moving, as free as the wind. There was so much to do in Republic City, but Aang always made time to be with his son. They went flying, practiced circle walking and even meditated together. Or, at least, Aang meditated while Bumi dozed on his lap. Real meditation could come later. Aang had so much to teach him, so much to share, and he was looking forward to every minute of it.
****
Most kids started bending around their second birthday, but Bumi hadn’t started yet. He’d actually managed the spinning gates and even knew a handful of basic airbending moves, but had yet to create a puff no matter how hard he tried. Aang watched his son chase Zuko’s daughter around the courtyard as he shared his concerns with the guys.
“Maybe he’s just a late bloomer,” Zuko offered. “I didn’t start bending until I was nearly three.”
“Or maybe he’s just not a bender,” Sokka pointed out. “ Would that be so tragic?”
Yes, Aang wanted to shout. It would mean that the next Avatar would have no one to teach her airbending, or the one after her. It would mean that Sozin had been successful in whipping out the Air Nomads. It would mean Aang was all alone again.
Aang didn’t say any of that though. He watched his son run around the courtyard with his arms out and waited for the winds to lift him up.
****
At age three nothing seemed to be working. “Like this,” Aang demonstrated. They’d been at their usual morning practice for an hour. Bumi had the motions down and it was such a simple move. Aang knew his son could bend if he just tried harder. “You can do it!”
“No, I can’t,” Bumi shouted, stomping his feet. “I’m not an airbender. I’ll never be an airbender!” The boy’s face crumpled as he started to cry.
Monkeyfeathers! How had it come to this? Aang never meant to push so hard. He couldn’t remember when this had stopped being fun. “Bumi,” he reached out to draw the boy into a hug.
“No!” Bumi pulled away. “I don’t want to play with you anymore,” he sobbed, running for the comfort of his mother’s arms.
Aang sank to the stones of the courtyard. Bumi was right; he wasn’t an airbender. His people were dead and Aang was alone again, the last of his kind in the world. He would always love his son, but the soaring thing of hope and joy that had been born with him had died.
*****
His newborn daughter looked like Katara in miniature. She was beautiful and perfect and, once again, hope soared in Aang’s chest. When he took Kya flying the next day, Bumi watched them from the ground.
Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Rating: PG
Characters: Aang, Bumi II
Summary: Aang has a son. He's going to teach him airbending and never be alone again.
Disclaimer: Avatar: The Last Airbender and its characters belong to their creators and not me.
His son was born with coal-black hair and dark gray eyes. He was beautiful and perfect. Aang grinned like an idiot through his tears as he held him for the first time. What he had felt when Hope was born was nothing compared to this. He had a son. Aang would teach him airbending. They would make fruit pies together and bend them at people. They’d play air-ball and have air scooter races. Someday his son would have children of his own and Aang would never be alone again.
The next day, Aang took Bumi flying and the wind sang his joy.
****
At one year old Bumi ran around with his arms out and the wind ruffling through his hair. “Look, Daddy, I’m flying,” he laughed.
He was always laughing, always moving, as free as the wind. There was so much to do in Republic City, but Aang always made time to be with his son. They went flying, practiced circle walking and even meditated together. Or, at least, Aang meditated while Bumi dozed on his lap. Real meditation could come later. Aang had so much to teach him, so much to share, and he was looking forward to every minute of it.
****
Most kids started bending around their second birthday, but Bumi hadn’t started yet. He’d actually managed the spinning gates and even knew a handful of basic airbending moves, but had yet to create a puff no matter how hard he tried. Aang watched his son chase Zuko’s daughter around the courtyard as he shared his concerns with the guys.
“Maybe he’s just a late bloomer,” Zuko offered. “I didn’t start bending until I was nearly three.”
“Or maybe he’s just not a bender,” Sokka pointed out. “ Would that be so tragic?”
Yes, Aang wanted to shout. It would mean that the next Avatar would have no one to teach her airbending, or the one after her. It would mean that Sozin had been successful in whipping out the Air Nomads. It would mean Aang was all alone again.
Aang didn’t say any of that though. He watched his son run around the courtyard with his arms out and waited for the winds to lift him up.
****
At age three nothing seemed to be working. “Like this,” Aang demonstrated. They’d been at their usual morning practice for an hour. Bumi had the motions down and it was such a simple move. Aang knew his son could bend if he just tried harder. “You can do it!”
“No, I can’t,” Bumi shouted, stomping his feet. “I’m not an airbender. I’ll never be an airbender!” The boy’s face crumpled as he started to cry.
Monkeyfeathers! How had it come to this? Aang never meant to push so hard. He couldn’t remember when this had stopped being fun. “Bumi,” he reached out to draw the boy into a hug.
“No!” Bumi pulled away. “I don’t want to play with you anymore,” he sobbed, running for the comfort of his mother’s arms.
Aang sank to the stones of the courtyard. Bumi was right; he wasn’t an airbender. His people were dead and Aang was alone again, the last of his kind in the world. He would always love his son, but the soaring thing of hope and joy that had been born with him had died.
*****
His newborn daughter looked like Katara in miniature. She was beautiful and perfect and, once again, hope soared in Aang’s chest. When he took Kya flying the next day, Bumi watched them from the ground.