A/N: Hello there! Before we begin, there's a little narrative I would like to tell regarding how this story came to be. Now, I have been an Avatar fan for quite some time, but I'd never given any serious thought to writing fanfiction for it. One day, though, an OC popped into my mind fully-formed, with a story to tell. I said no. Big mistake. The story started writing itself in my mind, whether I wanted it there or not. So, I gave in and started writing on my computer. But I was resolved not to publish it. Three months and 43K+ words later, I gave in. And so here it is.

Also, before we begin, I would like to throw out a few disclaimers and warnings. This is an OC-centered fic. Yes, this story mostly follows canon events (with some major exceptions, I've got to have a little fun, yeah?). I will leave the question of OC pairings up in the air, as I don't want to spoil anything for those who truly don't wish to know. If, however, you believe that you cannot read this story without knowing, feel free to send me a PM and I will answer any questions you have. I do hope, though, that you will read on and let the story unfold as it may.

Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender. That honor would go to Michael Dante DiMartino, Bryan Konietzko, and Nickelodeon. Some of the dialogue/plot points I use are not mine, but also belong to those already mentioned. Avatarspirit is where I've gotten some of the dialogue. The only things I own are my OC and plot points/concepts/ideas that you do not recognize. There. That should cover just about everything.

And now, I present to you:

Honor Among Thieves

Chapter One

To Catch a Thief

The only reason she lost the fight that night was because the guard landed a lucky elbow to her face.

She stumbled back, tears welling up in her eyes. She blinked furiously in an attempt to clear them, but it was too late. His companion already had her arms pinned behind her back. She swung her wrists around as she tried to strike at him with her rods, but he squeezed the inner flesh of her wrists, and her weapons dropped to the ground.

"What do we have here?" he hissed in her ear. "Looks like we caught a sneaky little thief."

She knew they couldn't see her glare from underneath the cowl of her cloak, but she didn't care. She'd been so close to escaping, so close to slipping into the black woods where they would never find her again. But one of the guards picked that night to change his habits, and as a result, she'd been spotted. He'd shouted in alarm before she could silence him, and it was the guard who'd come running that had elbowed her. She'd twisted away from a boulder Guard One had thrown her way, and she'd run face first into Guard Two's elbow. She cursed her stupidity. She should have been more aware of where the other guard was. Or better yet, she should have just fled while she had the chance, instead of staying and trying to fight. Now she was going to spend the night in prison before they "tried" her and sentenced her to some horrible punishment so she could become an example to everyone else in the small village.

So much for justice.

She glanced mournfully at her rods as they led her away. She'd spent ages crafting them just right, only to have them left in the middle of an Earth town road.

Perspective, she scolded herself. Even if you did manage to hang onto them, you probably wouldn't ever be able to use them again after tomorrow.

So she walked away, head held high, trying to avoid thinking about her fate.

Twelve hours earlier…

"Sorry miss. You don't have enough. Come back when you can give me five more silver pieces." The merchant turned away from her, already scanning the crowd for more potential customers.

She cursed silently and returned the money to the pouch at her waist. She had been positive that the money she'd purloined that morning from the rich traveler would be enough. But in actuality, the traveler had very little money on him (his rich clothing and rotund appearance had led to her to believe he was wealthier), and the prices for a hot meal were much higher. So she turned away and walked along the marketplace, hoping to spot a sign for some cheaper food.

She'd only recently come to this town, but it looked very similar to the ones she'd passed through in this region. Earthbender soldiers patrolled the streets, pretending to protect the villagers while they secretly leeched away the life within. She saw dangerously skinny children staring wistfully at produce resting in the stalls. She saw tired mothers balancing infants on their hips, the bags under their eyes testifying to the sleepless nights they'd had to endure. She saw fathers sweating away in the shops and in the fields, trying to scrape enough money together to put a meal on the table. All the while, the leaders and soldiers ate like kings and threw away the scraps while their people starved. Her stomach turned just thinking of it.

She hadn't been paying attention while she'd been walking, and as a result, she bumped into a soldier as he walked down the street. "I'm so sorry," she said quickly. "It's just very crowded here, and I didn't see you there—"

He brushed her off with a wave of his hand and continued on. She smiled to herself as she fingered the fat purse she'd just relieved him of. Now she had more than enough to buy a meal for herself.

As soon as the thought ran through her mind, a small girl ran by, heading straight for a woman selling fresh fruit. She carefully placed her coins on the table and opened her mouth—

But the woman shook her head and pushed the money away. "It won't be enough. I'm sorry."

"But my little brother is hungry," the girl said, on the verge of tears. "And my momma said it would be enough."

"I truly am sorry," the woman replied with sympathy in her eyes. "But prices have gone up. I have a family to feed too," she added quietly.

The girl slowly took back her money and walked away, her face downcast.

And with that, she realized that she would not be eating today.

"Wait," she said, calling softly to the girl. The girl turned around, but grew instantly wary at the sight of the hood. "I'm not going to hurt you," she said, maintaining her gentle tone. She lifted her hood up slightly so the girl could see her face. "I want to help."

"How?" said the girl, relaxing at the sight of another female.

She pulled the coin purse from her belt and added what few coins she already had. "Can you do me a favor?"

The girl nodded eagerly, not taking her eyes from the purse.

"Can you take this and give a little to everyone? You need to make sure everyone who needs it gets some money, alright?" The girl nodded with even more vigor, her eyes sparkling in delight. "Oh, and don't tell the mean soldier men, okay? It's a secret," she added, pressing her finger to her lips in a shushing motion.

"I will," the girl said solemnly. "I'll make sure that no one else tells either."

"You're catching on," she said, winking. "Now go," she said shooing her away and raising her hood.

As she watched the girl run away with the money tucked underneath her shirt, her stomach rumbled. She could feel the hunger pangs set in, but the hope on the girl's face when she'd parted with her money made the discomfort bearable. She could go without if it meant feeding those who truly needed it.

As she turned away, a large building at the end of the street caught her eye. What drew her attention wasn't the building's appearance (though its impressive looks did point toward it being an official place). Rather, it was the groups of soldiers gathered around it. And they weren't off duty either. They looked attentive and serious, nothing at all like a group of soldiers on leave.

You don't post guards unless you have something worth guarding.

And to have something valuable in a struggling town like this was despicable.

She ducked behind a nearby building and crouched in the shadows, her eyes trained on the front door. Surely someone would come in or out today. Perhaps she could discern what was being kept in there.

Then she would liberate it that evening.

So she sat and watched. She didn't fidget, or make any noise, or move in any way. She knew how to sit still, and she was good at it.

She remembered a time long, long ago when sitting still was a chore, that every second ticking by made her fidget just a little more. But she had learned time after time that movement was deadly in situations like this. She had forced herself into stillness, and now it was a part of her.

Ten minutes later, her waiting paid off. A merchant from the marketplace, a bag thrown over his shoulder, trudged up the road, heading straight for the house. As he stepped up on the portico, however, the seam on his worn bag gave way. Fresh fruit tumbled to the wooden floors. The merchant bent down to pick up the fruit as the guards around him jeered. None made any move to help him. Finally, he cleared the deck of all produce and headed inside.

It's a storage house, she realized. For food. The officials collect food from their people and keep it for themselves while their citizens starve.

Well, that wouldn't be the case for much longer.

She found herself in the same spot behind the same building many hours later. She was wrapped in her forest green cloak, which did wonders for disguising her in the dark. The cowl was up (as usual), and her tall brown boots were silent (as always). She sat, and she waited once more. She watched.

The guards seemed to have a regular patrol around the storehouse. One guard would walk by the front to the left while another walked by on the portico to the right. Two other guards completed the same circuit in the opposite direction, so that they crossed at the sides of the house. That left a gap that she knew she could sneak by in. She would just stay to the shadows and move carefully, as she always did.

She slipped from her cover and moved low to the ground, which ensured that her entire body was covered by the cloak. She was dressed in dark colors (from the ¾ sleeved green shirt and the dark brown leather strips wrapped around her forearms to the dark green leggings that tucked into her boots), but the cloak helped her to appear as a shadow and less as a collection of parts. Underneath it, she was one dark, shadowy whole.

She allowed herself a small smile as she moved. There was nothing she loved more than using her skills to right the wrongs of the world. Others may have seen her actions as trivial, but she knew that the smallest act of kindness could have the farthest-reaching effects.

She stepped quickly, quietly, and surely on her way to the storehouse. She was almost to the front steps when suddenly—

He wasn't supposed to be there that soon. A guard rounded the corner much earlier than he should have. He saw her (well, he'd have to be blind not to). And he shouted in surprise.

She froze momentarily, like a gopher-bunny in a hunter's crosshairs. She could turn and run now, into the woods. They would never find her among the infinite shadows that danced around during the night. But she hated the thought of leaving these townspeople to their own devices.

Her hesitation was her undoing. By the time she pulled her wooden rods from the loops on her belt, the first guard was already stomping his foot onto the ground, catapulting a rock into the air. He punched at her, and the rock hurtled towards her midsection, forcing her to twist away. As she turned, she met resistance. A hard, bony object collided with her nose. Pain shot through her face, and hot, salty tears threatened to spill past her eyes. She blinked furiously, determined not to let one spill. She couldn't remember ever crying, and she was determined not to start now. She tried to bring up her rods to swing at the guard, but the one who'd thrown a rock at her was already behind her, grabbing her arms and forcing her to drop her weapons.

She was caught.

It took her fifteen minutes in the metal prison cell she was locked in to determine that it was impenetrable. She peered out between the steel bars and surveyed the prison. The guards paced up and down the hallway at a regular interval, and the lock keeping her in was solid and new. Even if she did manage to pick it with whatever she scrounged up in her cell (they'd taken her lockpicks), there was no way she could escape without being spotted. She didn't want to take the chance of getting caught again and facing a tougher sentence.

The bitter taste of disappointment sat on her tongue. She shouldn't have been caught. She should have known the second guard would be there. She shouldn't have hesitated. If she'd just run, she could have disappeared into the forest, never to be seen again. But she had been indecisive, and it had cost her her freedom. But "should haves" never did her any good.

So she sat back against the wall in resignation, once again pushing aside any thought of what might happen tomorrow. She needed to be thinking clearly when her trial came around. Fear would only cripple her mind.

A loud noise interrupted her. She was startled for a moment before she realized that it had come from her stomach. She hadn't eaten all day. She'd been depending on stealing some food from the town storage for her dinner, but she'd been caught before she'd even made it inside. So now she was sitting in prison with no food and no hope for escape.

She crawled forward until her face was pressed against the bars. As a guard passed her cell, she called out to him, making sure to keep her voice gruff and short. "Do I get a meal?"

He laughed in her face. "Thieves don't get food in here. Teaches 'em a lesson."

Well, she figured as much. She sighed and crawled back to the wall. She leaned back and closed her eyes, again resigning herself to an uncomfortable night.

Her thoughts once again turned to the direction she'd picked for her life. As good as she was at what she did, she hadn't been born in the circumstances she now found herself. But she was glad she'd ended up where she had. There wasn't much she could do to make a difference in the world, but she could do something. And she believed that if you had the power to do something, you had an obligation to. So she wandered the world, trying to find people who needed help. Sometimes it was lending a body for work. Sometimes it was lending an ear to listen. Sometimes it was taking from those who had too much (unfairly, she had no bone of contention for those who worked hard) and giving it to those who had not nearly enough. Of course, it was the last that she was best at. She knew it wasn't the most honest of lifestyles, but beggars couldn't be choosers. At least she'd never had to resort to the former. Her skills and talents would ensure that.

At least, if she got through tomorrow in one piece.

After a sleepless night spent in the cell, the guards led her outside to the town square, where the townspeople were gathered in a large semicircle. She caught sight of the little girl she'd given the money to yesterday hiding behind her mother's leg, watching her with sadness. A single tear track traced its way down the girl's grubby face. Her mother, too, was giving her an expression of pity. The girl had obviously told her mother where she'd gotten the money. In fact, based on the somber expressions she was receiving, everyone in the village knew whose act of kindness had sent them to bed with full stomachs.

So instead of the usual chatter and bustle of an early village morning, the square was silent. This obviously bothered the guards standing at the perimeter, who kept shifting and eyeing each other nervously.

The guards responsible for her, however, were not as on edge. She hadn't given the guards any trouble when they'd pulled her from the prison, and she could feel them going lax as they walked.

She smiled beneath her hood. Perfect.

She'd worked quickly and quietly as soon as they'd put the metal cuffs on her. She wriggled her cloak through the restraints until her hands were bound below the fabric. As soon as they reached the edge of the square, she moved. She didn't care about the risks right now. She needed to try.

She leapt up into the air and tucked her legs up as her bound hands passed underneath, like some strange jumping rope. Her hands were now in front of her, giving her the freedom to strike out. Which she did gladly.

She lashed out to her left and hit the guard in the stomach. He kneeled over with a groan as she spun to the right. Unfortunately, this guard was ready for her. She dodged quickly as he threw a rock her way. It went sailing past, ruffling the ends of her cloak. As she turned, she saw the woods in front of her. She could run now, and escape, or stay and try to find the keys to her cuffs.

After what had occurred the night before, it wasn't even a decision. She started running (a little awkwardly, due to the restraints) for the forest. She was almost to the outskirts of the town when…she tripped. The guard had bended the ground in front of her, creating a step that caught her foot and brought her crashing down. Before she could get up and continue fleeing, the guard was on her, and she was being hauled to her feet.

There went her chance. They would be extra vigilant with her now. There would be no way that she could attempt escape again.

She held her head high as they dragged her back into the square. She would not give these people the satisfaction of seeing her cower, especially now that her escape attempt had failed so spectacularly. She was led to the center of the square, where the town mayor stood. He was a rotund man, obviously used to full, nutritious meals. Her lip curled in disgust. There were starving children in the region, and he was content to stuff himself like a pig. And she was the criminal.

"You have been accused of the crime of theft and assault," the mayor said without preamble, his voice booming out across the waves of people. "How do you plead?"

Does it matter? she was tempted to ask. She knew she would be found guilty no matter what she said, so she held her tongue and looked right into the mayor's eyes. He shifted uncomfortably and turned his gaze elsewhere. That was one of the innumerable advantages of the hood. She could look right at others, but they couldn't see her at all. It had a tendency of making the other person very uncomfortable. She remained silent, letting the question hang in the morning air.

"Your silence will be taken as an admission of your guilt," he said. "And as for your penalty…" He pretended to think for a moment. "A thief uses their hands to steal. So we will take one of yours, to prevent any future crimes from taking place."

For the first time since she'd been caught, she felt an icy stab of fear. Taking her hand? That would mean the end of her. She would no longer be able to steal her food, to defend herself, to survive…He might as well have handed down a death sentence.

They're going to chop off my hand for stealing, and they don't even know my name.

One of her guards unlocked her cuffs and pulled her hand forward. Another guard kicked the back of her knees so she fell onto the dirt. He bended the rock in front of her until a crude chopping block lay before her. Her hand was forced slowly down, until it rested on the rock. She struggled mightily, but the guard's grip was strong, and he had the advantage of standing over her.

The second guard unsheathed his sword, the blade winking as the early morning sunlight hit the cold steel. She swallowed a lump in her throat as the sword slowly descended through the air in a practice swing until it rested above her hand. She turned away, biting her lip and bracing herself for unendurable pain…

"What's going on?" A young male voice cut through the stillness of the crowd and gave the swordsman pause. She, along with everyone else in the square, turned to find the source of the question.

A young boy stood at the edge of the crowd, holding a tall staff and looking confused. A girl a few years older stood next to him, and on his other side was a boy, also older. The older ones, judging on their clothing, were obviously water tribe, but the boy…his clothes were unusual. They were a bright orange and yellow, instead of the Water Tribe blue his companions wore, or the green of the Earth Kingdom, or even the red of Fire Nation. And instead of sporting hair, like his companions (the boy's ponytail and the girl's braid), his head was smooth, and dominated by a pale blue arrow.

She'd seen pictures of tattoos like that before. That could only be…

A sign of a master airbender.

But there was only one airbender left.

Which could only mean…

The Avatar.

"We are merely dispensing justice, young man," the mayor replied.

"It doesn't look like justice to me," he said, stepping forward.

The mayor turned an ugly red color. "And who are you to tell me this?" he spluttered.

"The Avatar," she murmured, unable to stop herself.

The mayor looked down at her in disbelief, then turned his gaze on the boy. "What—is this true? Are you the Avatar?"

"Yes," the braided girl said, a spark of anger infecting her voice. "He is. Now, can you explain to us what's going on?"

The mayor blustered for a bit before gesturing down to her. "This young man was caught stealing food from the town's supplies. He has confessed, and we are dealing out his sentence."

He? The mayor was more of an idiot than she thought.

"But he didn't even confess!" the older boy with the ponytail said. "He said nothing!"

"His silence was taken as an admission of guilt. If he was innocent, he would have defended himself," the mayor said, beginning to grow angry.

"That's not how all people work," said the Avatar. "Let me try."

The mayor stuttered and stumbled, but he could not turn away the Avatar without looking like a fool. So he merely stepped back and waved the Avatar forward.

The boy stopped in front of her and reached down a hand. She looked pointedly at the one still being restrained by her guards. He followed her gaze. "Release him, please." The guards looked at the mayor for permission, and when he gave it, they let go of her and stepped away.

She took his hand and allowed herself to be pulled up. She marveled at his youth, as she towered over his smaller form. "I know you didn't want to tell them, but do you think you can talk to me?" he asked, smiling at her. His smile shrunk as he peered up at her. "Hey, wait a second…"

A disadvantage to the hood was that those shorter than you could much more easily see into the cowl. She subtly tried to tug it down farther, but an idea hit her. If she could prove the mayor a fool, perhaps the Avatar could supersede his authority. Perhaps he could overturn her sentence. It was worth a shot…

She reached up and removed her hood, prompting a gasp from the surrounding audience. Her wild black locks tumbled down past her shoulders as her delicate features revealed her true gender.

"That's not a boy," the ponytailed companion said.

"Oh really, Sokka?" replied the braided girl sarcastically. "I couldn't tell."

"Well, that's one thing he got wrong," the Avatar said. "But I still need to know…were you stealing?"

"No," she said clearly. "I hadn't touched a thing when the guards caught me. I wasn't sneaking out of the building, as they claim. I wasn't even on the portico."

The Avatar turned to the mayor. "Is this true?"

"Of course not!" the mayor cried. "You can't rely on the word of a thief!"

"They didn't find anything on me," she continued. "They took away my weapons, but other than that, nothing. You can search me if you want." She held her arms out. "I haven't changed since last night."

"I believe you," said the Avatar, eyeing her carefully. "It sounds like she was just walking around after dark," he said, his eyes drifting over to the rotund leader.

The mayor deflated as he realized he was fighting a losing battle. He threw his hands up in the air. "Fine! Let her go. But you'll see. She'll be caught again, and then you'll see what she really is!"

And with that, the crowd dispersed, and she was free. Well, almost.

"Can I have my weapons back?" she asked the mayor.

He waved a hand to a guard resignedly, and he handed over a medium-size sack that clanked as it moved. She pulled her daggers and throwing darts out, stowing them on her belt where they belonged. Her hand brushed the empty loops that usually held her rods and felt a pang. She would have to make more.

She'd almost turned to leave when she remembered something. She bowed to the Avatar and said, "Many thanks."

She'd turned again and started walking away when she heard, "Wait!"

The Avatar and his friends were running to catch up with her. She eyed them warily as they pulled up next to her. "Can I help you?"

"You might not want to stay around here," he said obviously.

She rolled her eyes. "I wasn't planning on it. This isn't my first time." His eyes widened, and she cursed her carelessness. This was why she wasn't talkative. It was too easy to reveal something best kept hidden.

"You've been caught stealing before?" the girl asked, a frown on her face.

"Not caught," she corrected. "I'm never caught."

"Why would you steal?" asked the Avatar. "It's not right."

"It's either steal or starve," she said simply, looking him right in the eye. "And I prefer living. Now, if you don't mind, I need to go find something to eat."

"Well…you could eat with us," offered the girl, who looked slightly disturbed at her own words. "We have some extra food."

She opened her mouth to decline, but a large growl from her stomach cut her off. The ponytailed boy arched an eyebrow. "Sounds like you're pretty hungry."

"I didn't eat yesterday," she admitted.

"Didn't they give you dinner last night?" asked the Avatar.

"No," she snorted. "Thieves don't get meals in prison. Teaches us a lesson."

"That settles it," said the girl firmly. "You're eating with us tonight." She paused, then said, "I'm Katara, by the way. This is my brother, Sokka." She gestured to the ponytailed boy.

"And I'm Aang," said the Avatar. "What's your name?"

The name she always gave when asked tripped off her tongue immediately. "Mirala. But you can call me Mira."

Pulling her hood up, she followed the three at a distance as they led her back to their camp for lunch. They led her through the woods bordering the village, where they fell into a single file line within a thin, worn path. The foliage overhead was thick, but sunlight still managed to filter through in small rays. She listened carefully and catalogued each sound that reached her ears. She walked silently along the path, despite the leaves and branches that littered her way. She looked around with small turns of her head. She could see nothing out of the ordinary, but she did not let herself relax. She could never be at ease living the lifestyle that she did.

As they broke through the trees into the large clearing where the others had made camp, she let out a small gasp. Coming from her, this amounted to a scream of shock.

Lying in front on her on the opposite side of the clearing was a large creature the likes of which she'd never seen before. It resembled a giant buffalo, but it sported the same arrows that the Avatar did. It rumbled slightly as the other stepped forward.

Just as she was processing the huge creature in front of her, another one swooped down from the trees above them. A lemur with wings chittered at the group before landing on Aang's shoulder.

She looked around carefully for any more unusual animals before fully entering the clearing. She noticed the boy, Sokka, staring at her curiously, and tilted her head in a silent question.

"Most people are a little more freaked out when they see Appa," he explained while setting up the fire.

"I can't afford to be freaked out," she said simply.

"Right," said Katara, who was unpacking food from a bag. "Because you're a thief. And can you take off the hood? It's weird talking to you with it on."

She looked at the girl for a minute before slowly drawing back the hood. "You don't approve of my lifestyle." A statement, not a question.

Katara shifted uncomfortably, but said, "You steal for a living. Don't you think that's wrong?"

"I used to," she said simply. "But that was before I nearly died of hunger. That makes you rethink your morals."

Katara looked shamefaced as she fiddled with the ingredients in her hands. "I'm—sorry. I didn't know."

"I know."

"Why were you breaking into that house then?" asked Aang, who was sitting on a log by the fire. "Couldn't you just take something from the market?"

"Those people hadn't seen a decent meal in weeks. The mayor and officials require a portion of their crops, so the villagers don't have enough to feed themselves and sell at the market. All the extra food is kept in that storehouse. I was planning on stealing it for the town." She could see a grudging respect in Katara's eyes at her words.

"So…do you have any family?" asked Sokka as he stirred the ingredients in the bowl. Steam was now wafting from the cauldron and caused her stomach to roll in anticipation.

She shook her head. "Mother died in childbirth, lost my father in the war. No siblings, aunts, uncles, grandparents. I travel alone."

"That's rough," said Aang. "But I know how you feel."

She shrugged. "That's just how it is. I work better alone anyway."

He looked at her skeptically. "Really? I'm not sure I could. I'd be lost without Sokka and Katara."

"I've had more time to get used to the idea," she said, accepting the bowl Sokka handed to her.

He accepted her answer, but still looked doubtful.

She ate her soup quickly. She did not try to guess what it was or what was in it. She'd learned that it was better to eat without questioning the contents of your food. All that mattered was that it was food.

After she'd finished, she handed the bowl back and said, "Thank you for your kindness. I must be going."

"Where?" asked Katara.

This made her pause. "I don't know. Wherever my feet take me."

There was a long silence in the clearing, then: "You could come with us," suggested Aang. "You looked like a good fighter back there. We could probably use your help. And…you wouldn't be alone anymore."

She stood in shock. They wanted her with them? The promise of a goal, something concrete to focus on was tempting. But she worked alone. What would they expect of her? What would she even do with them? And…who would help these townspeople? "No," she said. "I don't think you want me. Besides, someone has to help those people." And with that, she turned her back on them and left the clearing.

That evening, she was crouched behind a tree in the woods behind the storehouse. She'd spent the afternoon working out a plan and gathering the supplies she needed. She had a long coil of rope hanging on her belt, and her hair was tied back in a neat braid. She couldn't afford any of her wild curls falling in front of her face. She peered up at the tree she was standing behind. It had several thick branches overhanging the sloped roof of the storehouse. It was prefect for breaking in.

She pulled two of her thickest throwing darts from her belt and stuck them in the soft wood just above her head. She pulled herself up, made sure her feet had a good grip on the bark, and started climbing. She used her darts to create handholds for herself, pulling one out and sticking it higher on the tree before pulling out the other and doing the same thing. Once she reached the lower branches, she stowed the darts back in her belt and began to climb at a much faster pace. She swarmed up the tree, and in an instant, was perched on a branch that nearly brushed the storehouse roof. She looked down from in between the leaves and watched the guard's rotation. There was only one guard at the upper level, and he looked to be on the verge of falling asleep. It seemed that her attempt last night had done nothing spur the guards to action.

As soon as the guard had rounded the corner, she burst into motion. She scampered across the branch, and just when it started too bend a little too far, she leaped into the air. She landed lightly on her toes on top of the roof, and rolled into a crouching position to rid herself of any extra momentum. She quickly pulled her lockpicks from a pouch on her belt and put them in between her teeth, biting down to hold them in place, thus leaving her hands free. She stayed still and silent, looking down off the roof onto the patio surrounding the floor below her. She didn't try to crane her neck over the edge, for fear of being seen. Instead, she watched the floor. Minutes later, a shadow in the same shape of the guard crossed by in the opposite direction, and she had another opening.

She grabbed the edge of the roof, swinging herself down and landing lightly on the wooden floor below. She quickly pulled the picks from her mouth, jimmied the lock, and swiftly pulled the door shut behind her just as the guard rounded the corner.

She took a few tentative steps in the dim room, only to catch her foot on something hard and scratchy on the ground. She caught herself quickly before she could fall. She squinted in the darkness, and made out a tall, tapered candle on a table to her left. She lit it and surveyed the room with narrowed eyes.

A sea of cloth sacks overflowing with food filled the room. She could feel a hot flame of rage lick at her insides at the sight, but as always, she quickly squashed it. Dangerous things tended to happen when she was angry. She found it more productive to transform the emotion into something useful. She could be angry later, when she was alone. Now it was time to do something.

So she walked over to a window on the opposite side of the room that she'd noticed that afternoon, taking care not to trip on anything else. The window was on the far side of the storehouse, facing the woods. Perfect for moving supplies without being noticed. She slowly undid the latch and swung the window inside, grateful that the window didn't swing out.

She pulled a dart from her belt and tied one end of the rope to it. She coiled the rest of it on the floor, and drew the dart up past her head, making sure she got the feel and balance of it just right. She pulled back her arm, and let it fly. The dart let out a slight whizzing sound as it flew, but it was easily disguised by the sounds of the forest at night. The dart bit deeply into the bark of a tree just past the edge of the forest. She pulled the rope taut, and secured it to another dart she stuck into the wall where it met the ceiling on the opposite side of the room. Then she got to work.

She pulled several rope loops from her belt and set them aside. Then she grabbed the first bag of food she could reach and hoisted it up on the windowsill, right underneath the rope. She attached a rope loop to the neck of the bag, then sent the bag sliding down the rope, until it landed with a soft thump against the tree (she was lucky that the upper portico only wrapped partially around the warehouse. Otherwise, she was at risk of clothes-lining the guard as he made his rounds). She repeated this over and over, until the rope, sagging under so many bags of food, began to pull at the dart holding the rope taut. She untied the rope and let it snap out the window, hoping that the rope would fall far enough from the light the porch lamps cast so as to be unseen. Then she closed the window, cracked open the door just slightly, and darted out as soon as the guard had rounded the corner. She quickly locked it behind her, then swung up onto the roof. She pulled herself onto the tree branch and slid down as quietly as possible. She gathered the rope and cast it into a bush, took the bags (and her dinner), and started her rounds.

She avoided the front doors of the houses in the village, as there was too large a risk of being seen. Instead, she snuck around to the back and quietly knocked on doors, offering up piles of food to the underfed occupants within. She could feel the anger within her abate slightly as children gaped in awe at the food she brought. Mothers smiled for the first time in weeks, and the fathers' shoulders began to relax. Her step grew lighter as she continued. She was helping those in need, and that was all she really needed in life. She was happy.

That is, until she reached the last house. An older woman answered her knock, and at seeing the food sack in her hands, scowled mightily. "I don't want it," she said tersely.

She was taken aback. "Why?"

"They'll think we took it," she said, folding her arms across her chest. "And we'll be worse off than we were before. Did you even think about that?"

She felt her spirits sink; no, she hadn't thought about the consequences of her actions. She had only been focused on acquiring the food and distributing it, not what would happen the next morning. But there wassomething she could do about it.

"I'm sorry," she said, drawing her shoulders up. "I'll fix it."

The woman looked at her searchingly, and said. "I know you will. Now I'll take some of that." She helped herself to the remaining food in the sack, then closed the door.

She returned to the woods and tossed the sack (along with the others) onto the ground right at the edge of the forest, and crept up behind a tree. If she allowed the guards a good look at her apparently sneaking out, they would know it had been her who took the food, and not the villagers.

So she once again climbed the tree and landed on the roof. She jumped down onto the porch, unlocked the door, and slipped inside. Now she waited at the door, trying to time her exit just right. As soon as she saw the guard round the corner, she opened the door and rushed out.

"What the—Hey, you!" he yelled, staring at her in shock. She took advantage of his surprise and swung up and onto the porch before he could even start toward her.

She could hear the cries of alarm as she scurried across her tree branch. She looked over to find the guards on red alert, spreading out to search the area. She knew they would find the picked through storeroom, and the much emptier bags on the ground below. With a start, she saw guards roaming through the forest directly below her, dangerously close to the foot of her tree.

Can't climb down. They'd catch me for sure.

But her nimble feet and agility made tree-hopping easier for her. They would never catch her if she stuck to the sky.

So she flew. She leaped from branch to branch, her cloak flapping in the wind like the wings of a bird. And up there, so close to the sky and so far away from the ground, she truly felt free. She could taste the sweetness of the air, could hear nothing but the sound of her own heart beating. She could feel an uncontrollable smile start to grow on her face, and for once, she didn't try to hide it. Instead, she let her happiness reign free. She smiled until her face ached.

She began to slow twenty minutes later. She could no longer hear the sounds of pursuit behind her, meaning she'd lost anyone who might have spotted her a long time ago. She paused for a moment to regain her breath. She perched in a tree, not unlike a very large bird of prey. She sat and she listened.

She stiffened slightly as she heard a rumble echo through the forest. It sounded familiar, but she couldn't quite place where she'd heard it. Wait. Appa. The rumble was an exact match to what she'd heard that afternoon. She was near to the Avatar's camp.

She followed the rumbling until she was sitting in a tree on the edge of the clearing where they'd made camp. They were all asleep, Katara and Sokka wrapped in sleeping bags and Aang stretched out on the bare ground. As she watched, she remembered their offer from that afternoon.

You could come with us.

Once again, the words gave her pause. Did they seriously want her to travel with them? What help could she offer? Aang had said that she was a good fighter, but the only reference he could have was the botched escape attempt of that morning. Surely that wasn't enough to go on to judge her skill? And Katara had clearly disapproved of her thievery. Why would they ask her to travel with them?

What if you could help?

The tiny voice in her head startled her. Where had that come from? But the more she tried to push the idea away, the more it grew in her mind. Obviously the Avatar was going to bring down the Fire Lord and end the war. What if she could play a part in ending it? What if she could make much more of a difference than she was right now? Feeding the hungry was a temporary solution. Ending the war would bring soldiers home, and would drive out the corruption. It would end the cruelty of the Fire Nation. She could be doing so much more than she was right now.

The offer now sounded much more appealing. She would be working toward a long-term goal, instead of drifting around aimlessly, trying to find some way to help. She would have a purpose. She could use her skills for something better than stealing.

And so it was decided, right there in that tree. If it was still valid, she could take them up on their offer tomorrow morning.

She wedged herself in the tree, pulled the cloak in tight around her body, and fell asleep.

The smell of smoke woke her the next morning. The acrid, sharp smell pulled her from the clutches of a dreamless sleep and sent her slamming back into wakefulness. The scent of burning is not one she liked to wake up to, especially when lying in a tree. In seconds she was awake and alert, probing the forest with eagle eyes. It took a few more seconds to remember that she was just above the Avatar camp, and that the smell of smoke was accompanied by the scent of roasting meat. Her stomach immediately rumbled and her mouth started watering.

Maybe I can ask for some breakfast when I'm there.

She carefully extracted herself from the fork she'd wedged herself in and climbed a little lower. She moved from tree to tree until she was perched on a branch that reached a little further into the clearing than the rest. She was now directly above a spot next to the fire, and across from Sokka, who was cooking breakfast. A small smile crept onto her face.

Time to have some fun.

She stood up quietly, balancing herself on the branch. Then, she took a small step forward and plunged through the air, her cloak rising up behind her. She fell vertically, and she landed in a crouch right behind the fire, and right in front of Sokka. To him, it looked like she'd appeared out of nowhere, falling from the sky.

His reaction, though, was much more exaggerated than she'd hoped for. She'd never heard a girl scream that high-pitched, much less a boy. His arms flailed up in an attempt to protect himself, and he fell backwards off his heels onto the ground. He laid there, staring up at the sky in shock, while Aang started laughing so hard that he fell off where he was perched on Appa, and Katara had to hide her snickers behind her hand. Mira, however, merely smiled.

"Why," he asked weakly as he struggled to sit back up, "would you do that?"

She shrugged.

"Seriously, though, why are you here?" asked Katara curiously.

She took a deep breath. "I wanted to know—is your offer still open? Can I travel with you?"

"Of course," said Aang, who had picked himself off the ground and was now walking towards them. "What changed your mind?"

"I think I can make more of a difference with you than I can wandering around."

"So you're not going to raid the storehouse?" asked Katara.

She waved a hand airily. "Oh no, I already did that. And now I'd like to come with you. If that's all right."

"Fine with me," said Aang.

"Sure," said Katara.

A pause, then, "Does she have to?" grumbled Sokka.

"Sokka," Katara chastised him.

"Fine, fine!" he said, throwing his hands up in the air. "But I am so getting you back," he growled at Mira, pointing at her threateningly.

She shrugged again. "You can try."

Something in her tone caused Sokka to gulp, but the others ignored him.

"Welcome to the team."

A/N: Please review!