The Warrior's Gambit (Zutara)

XV

Momo made a chirping sound, something that Aang interpreted as sympathy. Momo rubbed his head on Aang's shoulder.

"Anyway," Aang said, trying to brighten. "You must be hungry, little guy. It's been hours since breakfast. We'll go into the kitchens. I'm sure they have some fantastic fruit already cut. Sometimes, being a Fire Nation Royal Cousin has its perks," Aang said, winking.

Momo crawled onto Aang's head, which seemed to be his place of choice. Aang liked to think it was because Momo enjoyed watching everything and needed a good vantage point. It was also the easiest leaping place, though Momo had clung close to Aang since arriving back at the palace, which was for the best, truly. Aang was more than a little protective over him.

As far as he knew, Momo was the last flying lemur around. He was tempted to add on, like himself, but then recalled he wasn't the last airbender out there. He was the last one that hailed directly from an Air Temple, but that was just semantics. An airbender was an airbender.

Nature always has a way of balancing itself, Yangchen reminded him gently, Whenever there is an absence, something else will spring up. It may not be the same, but the spirit of it is. The Avatar cycle should have taught you that.

Her tone was not scolding, but a reminder. While each Avatar was, physically, a different person, they all had the same literal spirit within them. It made even Aang's head hurt if he thought about it too much!

Aang thought about this as he walked through the halls, watching Momo's tail swish in front of his face. He had never thought there'd be more airbenders, unless he created them himself. Maybe there would never be this exact lemur again, but who knows where a similar flying marsupial would return? The world was always changing. Always in motion, never stagnant.

Aang waved to the chefs in the kitchen, who smiled jovially at him and waved back in between flipping noodles and chopping meat.

"There he is! The little creature that the whole palace is talking about," the lead chef said, reaching out to scratch Momo's chin.

"The whole palace?" Aang wasn't sure if he liked that.

"Well," The chef rested the fist holding his oversized knife on his waist, "Besides Lady Ursa's turtle ducks, the last actual Royal Pet we had was...oh, was it the racoon-collie? Back when the Royal Children were six and eight?" He scratched his chin.

"No, no," a line-worker piped up, "Remember? Princess Azula had the mouse-canary when she was twelve!"

"That one, yes." The chef furrowed his eyebrows. "I can't believe I forgot about that adorable little thing."

"Well, it didn't stick around very long. Or should I say last very long," a different line-chef snorted, "Because-"

Whatever he'd been about to say was cut off quickly, like something had choked in his throat. Aang was almost sure that he could feel the air being sucked out of the kitchen, like some evil spirit had crept through the walls.

"He was a sickly thing, tragic," Azula's calm voice seemed to cut through the area, despite the hissing of the food, the noises from the pots, and the squealing of the kettle. When she spoke, it seemed even inanimate objects quieted.

The head chef made a face that showed he didn't think that was quite it, but changed expressions before Azula saw. Aang wanted to stuff Momo in his shirt, away and safe from Azula.

"Well, we don't pay you to just stand there," Azula said through a narrowed glare. The kitchen burst back into work, double-time, to show the crown Princess that they deserved their jobs. The workers were still silent, sans the necessary noises from their preparing.