AtLA crossover: There's Your Trouble
Title: There's Your Trouble
Disclaimer: As always, I don't own any of the characters.
Rating: G-ish
Summary: Daemonar strikes out on his own.
Notes: I don't really know how well this works, I've never tried writing from the perspective of a child of under five. As with everything in this dumping ground, if you think you can get an actual proper story out of this, feel free to take the idea and run with it.
Daemonar had run away.
Well, not really run away. It was just so boring going shopping with his mother. She wouldn't let him go flying in the shops, she never looked at anything interesting like toys or picture books or weapons like his father's. No, it was all household goods and clothes. Or food. But it was never interesting food like candy. It was boring, icky food like spinach.
So when she turned her back, he snuck off. He was going to follow the river that passed right by the village, and that wound all the way to where their aerie was. His father hadn't taught him tracking yet, but he knew about the river, so he wouldn't get lost.
He started off flying, very low so no one would see him, but eventually he got tired and landed so he could walk along the riverbank. He got even tireder then. Walking so far was really hard. And the trip that seemed so fast from the safety of his parents' arms took forever. Now that he was on the ground, and his wings were too tired to carry him, he also felt a little lost. He wasn't really lost . . . the river was right there, after all. But he couldn't see very far through the trees, and it had already taken a really really long time to get this far.
In spite of the fact that Hallevar always told him that big boys didn't cry, he felt tears starting to well up. Before they could, though, there was a sudden snarling sound from the woods to his right. Pounding out of the underbrush came several dozen feral winged men. They weren't Eyrian. They were something else. They snarled and ran at him, looking more like some kind of animal than people. Even the kindred looked more like people than these people.
Daemonar panicked and tried to fly, but they were on him too fast, grabbing him and holding him so tightly he started to bruise.
"Daddy!" he called. Daddy! He was too little to be very strong in his Craft yet, and he didn't hear any response. Still, he kept screaming until one of them backhanded him across the face. It hurt lots and lots. Worse than when he'd fallen and scraped his knee, worse even than when he'd tried touching the pot with his favourite stew in it while it was on the fire.
That was when she came.
She was dressed all in blue, and she shouted at the strange men, "How about you let the boy go and deal with someone your own size?"
They snarled and tried to run at her, but she moved her arms and water flew out of the river and hit the men hard. Hard like when his father was training the Eyrian warriors. The snarling men went flying backwards into the trees behind him, making loud 'thuds' as they hit. She ran forward, with water floating all around her like the armour he'd seen on display sometimes at the Keep. Gesturing again, that water stretched out and hit the men holding him, and they lost their grips.
Then he was snatched up in her arms and she was carrying him to the river. She didn't even stop at the riverbank and he watched, amazed, as she made a boat out of ice just well up out of the water.
"This is gonna be really cold," she warned him, as she put him down in the boat. It was really cold, but he hardly noticed, because she was moving her arms again, and the boat started to move down the river really really fast. As fast as flying. He looked up and saw that the scary men were still following, but they were going fast enough that they might still escape.
"Who are you?" he asked her.
She smiled down at him, briefly, before turning back to steering their ice-boat. "My name's Katara. What's yours?"
"Daemonar," he told her. "Can you take me home? My Daddy will make the scary men go away."
"Depends," she said. "I can't move this fast anywhere but on water, and there are too many for me to fight and keep you safe at the same time if we leave the river."
He frowned in concentration then said, "The river goes right by our aerie. It's not far to there, and Daddy and his warriors should be home."
"Do I need to keep going this way?" she asked. Daemonar nodded, and she nodded back. Then she did something that made them go even faster. She was really pretty too. Her skin was dark and her eyes were blue like Auntie Jaenelle's. She was wearing strange clothing, but it was a very pretty blue. He'd never seen a witch like her.
He was distracted when one of the scary men suddenly managed to get close enough to try to hit them with a club. Katara whipped one hand up, and water came out of the river, encased the man, turned to ice and then she just dropped him into the water, where he bobbed up and down, covered in ice several feet thick all over and with only his head sticking out. "Wow!"
Daemonar thought that if he had to serve a witch when he grew up, he wanted to serve this one. She was really neat.
Then they were coming up on the closest point to the aerie from the river. "There!" he shouted.
"You're kidding," she told him. "This is only close if you . . . you normally fly the distance, don't you?" she asked.
"Yes," he replied. "But Daddy should be there."
She frowned, then seemed to come to a decision. "Climb onto my back and hang on really tight, okay?"
"Okay," Daemonar said. He got on piggyback, wrapping his arms tightly around her, and doing the same with his legs.
"Now," she said, "Can you tell me exactly where you think we need to be?"
"Uh-huh," he said. He carefully described the point where his family's aerie was, describing the decorative additions his mother had placed on the entry.
"Okay," she said. "Hang on, here we go!" A few gestures later and they rocketed up into the air, a platform of ice under her feet. Then they reached the peak of the arc and started falling. It was really scary again, especially since the scary men seemed to have caught up, but somehow, she landed them on the ledge.
One of the scary men tried to make a run at them, but she whipped her arms around and formed a thick bubble of ice around them which took the brunt of the blow.
"Daddy!" he shouted, banging on the door that was ebon-gray locked. "Daddy!"
Behind him, he was aware of her doing something with the water that gave it lots and lots of tentacles, which she was using to fight a whole bunch of them at once. It felt like forever before the door opened. "Daemonar?" he said. Then he took in the scary men attacking them and Called his bladed sticks to hand, launching himself into the crowd.
Watched the fight with wide eyes, he didn't even realise his grandfather was there until the man picked him up and took him inside. "What did you think you were doing, running away from your mother, young man?" asked his grandfather.
Daemonar knew he was in trouble, but he had to at least try to explain. "I was bored Grandpa," he said earnestly. "Mama only looks at boring stuff when we go shopping, so I wanted to go home."
"Do you have any idea how worried your mother was?" his grandfather asked.
"I thought I'd be home fast and then Daddy could tell her where I was," Daemonar explained. "It tooked longer than I thought."
His grandfather didn't look impressed. He took Daemonar's face in his hands, tilting it back and forth. "I see you ran into a lot of trouble."
He nodded. "Katara saved me from the scary men and then made a boat and took me the rest of the way home."
"I assume Katara is the young witch who brought you here in such . . . unorthodox manner?"
Daemonar frowned. "Um . . . what does un . . . unorth . . ."
"Unorthodox?" his grandfather asked as he collected some ice to put on the bruises on Daemonar's face.
He nodded again. "Yeah. What does it mean?"
"It means . . . unusual. Not the normal way." Then his grandfather put the towel-wrapped ice on his face.
"Oh. Then, yes."
The noises outside had stopped, and his father came in accompanied by Katara. "Daemonar!"
"I'm sorry Daddy," he said, hoping to avoid another lecture.
Katara stepped forward and knelt beside him. She turned to his grandfather. "Is that ice in the towel?" she asked.
Eyebrow raised, his grandfather said, "Yes."
She plucked the towel from his hands, and suddenly the ice had melted and reformed into a pretty glowing blue glove around her hand. She put it on his face and the pain just went away. A minute later, she pulled her hand away, reformed the ice and said, "That's better, isn't it?"
"Impressive," his grandfather told her. "I'm quite sure my daughter would be delighted to discuss your method of healing. My name is Saetan SaDiablo, this is my son, Lucivar, and my grandson, whose acquaintance I believe you've already made."
She smiled slightly, but said. "I'm sorry. I wish I could, but those . . . the people who attacked Daemonar are following the orders of someone I have to hunt down. She escaped from where she was being held, and I'm afraid that Azula is far too dangerous to be allowed free rein."
His father's eyes narrowed. "Then you will allow us to assist you in your hunt. Anyone who can convince the Jhinka to attack this close to the Keep needs to be dealt with."
Katara smiled. "Thank you. We've had . . . bad experiences in the past with asking for help. Sometimes we just try to deal with it on our own to avoid the trouble. Help will be very appreciated. I'd better get back though. The only reason I came here was because I was getting Daemonar somewhere safe."
"I thank you for that," said his father. "Can I offer you a lift?"
She smiled. "I'd like that. I'm sure my boyfriend is worried." They left, and moments later, his mother arrived home. "Daemonar! What were you thinking? I just turned around and you were gone!"
He'd learned his lesson. Leave Mama while shopping and get attacked by scary men. "I won't do it again, I promise."
He was still pouting over his thwarted ambitions when his father got back. "Everything I've heard about this Azula makes me very concerned," his father told his grandfather. Then he looked at Daemonar. "What's wrong?"
"She's got a boyfriend," explained Daemonar. "I wanted to be her boyfriend."
The adults stared oddly at him for a moment, then his father commented, "At least he has good taste."
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