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Nanook
The Ullaakut was trembling quietly as Nanook stepped out of his cabin, the salty aroma of the ocean breeze finding its way throughout the hallway. The glow from his oil lamp cast an eerie glow throughout the hallway, flickering on and off just like his fast heartbeat. He gently closed the door behind him, making sure not to wake up Tomkin, but he suspected that Tomkin was awake too. The absence of his snoring had been obvious, but he didn’t ask. Nanook needed some air.
He had a nightmare again, but Nanook didn’t tell anyone, not needing to burden the crew. They had a lot on their hands, especially now. It had almost been three months since that day in Gaoling. Three months. Absolutely everything and nothing happened. Nanook had seen Sokka and Katara for the first time in 2 years, but it was nothing like he pictured his reunion with the Watertribe siblings.
Katara’s arrival was defined by tears streaming down her face and the Avatar in her arms. She spent most of her days in the infirmary with Kanut. On the days she did come out, she had barely looked the chief in his eye.
On the other hand, Sokka had returned with an air of leadership that was so familiar to Nanook. Sokka, who had only been only up till his shoulders the last time he saw him. Sokka who was now drafting up the genius that was the invasion plan.
The invasion plan. Nan had heard bits and pieces, something about a Solar Eclipse and Caldera city, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about the details. Details were that he always did care about, but they didn’t matter now, because they had a plan . For the first time in four months, he had hope. Something that he held close, as it was a precious thing. Nanook could be cynical and unforgiving, but this was something he hadn’t felt since Tomkin had said that the future Firelord had apologized for what happened to their village. In a few weeks, the war would be over, Hakoda would confront the Fong, and Nanook might just see his friend again.
“No.” Nanook hissed internally, shaking his head. He couldn’t give himself hope, not now, because it had done him no good in the past. It hadn’t done anyone good. He had to be grounded so that Tomkin had something, anything to hold down on to. Tomkin, his friend who swore wouldn’t see anymore darkness, Tomkin, who had already lost so much. But the silent truth was that...that Nanook was scared. Spirits, he woke up to nightmares now, nightmares that he thought he had escaped up from, only now Uki’s haunting face was replaced with Zuko’s. He had thought that he had escaped her, had let her be at peace during that Aurora. The Aurora, where he felt his arms wrap around her for the last time, and letting her go.
He remembered sitting for hours outside of the wall of the Tribe, for days, maybe even weeks after that. Because maybe, just maybe Uki would find her way home. She would claw her way out of that damned snowstorm, she would fight like the strong warrior Nanook knew she was, and she would find her way back home. Back to him. His parents had to drag him out before he had finally accepted the truth, and he had cried and cried and cried in their arms. Because Uki never came home, and Zuko wasn’t either. When he couldn’t protect Uki, he had vowed that he would never let anything happen to his friends. Nanook chuckled dryly, “ Almost four months.” Spirits, he was getting too alone with his thoughts.
Which is why when Nanook heard a loud crash from the infirmary, he returned to the present gladly. Kanut had stopped sleeping in the infirmary, even though Katara always moved Aang to another room when the sun fell, but no one questioned it. Those were the unspoken rules within the crew of the Ullaakut. Don’t question it, because you already knew that answer. Slightly startled, Nanook put his hands on the lock.
“ I just have a feeling he’s not bad.”
Nanook shook his head again, and opened the door.
“Nanook?”
It took a minute for Nanook to process what he was seeing, only he half expected to see the scarred face haunting his nightmares right back at him. Instead what he saw was the striking blue eyes of Sokka, sprawled all over the floor of the infirmary, Kanut’s books lay open around him, the tiny shelf that had been bolted to the wall now on the floor. Dust was swirling around him, the bits of wood crawling their way into Nanook's lungs.
“Tui and La Sokka what happened here?” Nanook said between coughs.
“Nanook!” Sokka smiled at him, eye’s lighting up impressively for someone who was up at this hour.
Given the hectic air of the Ullaakut, he hadn’t yet gotten the chance to spend time with his friend. This, however, seemed like the wrong time.
“I couldn’t sleep, so I…” he gestured with his free hand to the mess of books and parchment sprawled around him, his other hand holding on to a familiar book. The oil lamps were much to dim for anyone to do anything at this late at night. Nanook made sure not to ask why Sokka couldn’t sleep, the familiar mantra of don’t question it ran through his head.
“Don’t tell me you’re reading poetry again,” Nanook said, finally smiling. “I thought that was just a phase.”
“Hey I happen to be one of the most talented poets you can find, just ask those girls in the Ba Sing Se, I took them on in a full on Haiku battle!” Sokka paused for a second, eye's lighting up at Nanook's rebuttal, “Well, until I got kicked out.”
Nanook stared quizzically.
“In my defense, they probably learned for years. ”
“So it wasn’t just a phase then?” Nanook replied, raising an eyebrow.
“Shut up!”
But Sokka was laughing as Nanook snickered. Nanook went on about how everyone wanted to cut their ears off after Sokka had accidentally picked up one the books that arrived in the supplies, undoubtedly the true owner being Kanut.
Sokka looked at Nanook fondly. He had always seen Nan as a big brother, and had missed him and Tomkin the most when the crew left the South Pole, apart from his dad of course. The three of them plus Katara had alway been the youngest up the tribe, wounding up in the most surreal places together and getting into forms of trouble that even Gran Gran swore no one had ever thought of.
“What are you reading anyways?” Nanook said as he sat down on one of the beds in the infirmary.(Not the left hand one. Never the left hand one)
“It’s a book about Firebenders, I thought it might be useful to know their weaknesses during the invasion plan,” Sokka paused, “Not that their power hungry egotistical asses have any listed on here.”
He said with such a malice that made Nanook’s heart twitch, and he wanted to scream they aren’t all like that .
But Nanook had stopped listening completely, because Sokka was holding that book. The red one, the one about Firebenders that Zuko had been reading long ago in the South Pole. And as wonderful as it was to have Sokka and Katara back, they didn’t know the unspoken rules of the Ullaakut, and there was no way to explain them. It was a vernacular that only the crew conceived, a language that had no way of teaching. Bato hadn’t understood either, his nose a slight crook being the proof of his ignorance. Pointedly not looking at the left-hand bed in the infirmary, Nanook quietly said
“Hey it’s getting really late, don’t you think you should go to sleep Sokka?”
“But, I was just getting to the part about lightning! This could be useful if Azula-!”
“Nope. Absolutely not. You’ve probably been working on the invasion plan all day.” Nanook said, drawing his voice up again like he did when they were kids. “You need sleep, Sokka.”
Sokka crossed his arms. “If that’s really how you see it, what are you doing here so late?”
A sudden realization dawned on Nanook and before he knew it, he was pulled back into his head. Uki’s soft face. Uki’s face replaced Zuko.
Zuko.
Uki.
Gone.
But Nanook suddenly had a revelation as he looked at Sokka’s eyes, begging him for more time. Uki was gone, and Zuko wasn’t coming back, but Nanook hadn’t lost everything yet. Not yet. He had Sokka. He had Sokka, and Katara and Tomkin and the whole crew, and while Nanook could be cynical and unforgiving, he would do whatever it takes to make sure he didn’t lose another friend. To protect them. And if that meant making sure Sokka got some fucking rest, so be it.
“It doesn’t matter why I’m up so late Sokka,” Nanook replied softly, standing up and extending his hand downwards. . “Come on, you can sleep with me and Tomkin if you’d like.”
And while Sokka definitely groaned while he reached up, Nanook knew he secretly missed it when the three of them would hang out.
The two of them walked out of the infirmary after cleaning up the piles of books, Nanook reluctantly letting Sokka bring one of Kanut’s poetry books with him to the cabin.(He knew for a fact that Kanut hadn’t touched those since Sokka wasn’t there) They both looked at each other when the last thing left on the floor was the broken shelf, nodding in solidarity, acknowledging that it was now Kanut’s problem.
Nanook paused while locking up the door of the infirmary behind him, the lamp in his other hand casting yet another eerie glow in the long corridors of the Ullaakut.
“Do yourself a favour, Tomkin. Don’t fraternise with the enemy.”
“You okay, Nan?” Sokka asked, hints of concern lacing his soft voice.
And for the final time that night, Nanook stopped dwelling on his thoughts.
“Yeah,” he replied, looking at Sokka’s worried eyes. “I’m okay”
He swung his arm over Sokka’s shoulder, when the oil lamp in his free hand went out abruptly.
But Tui’s pale moonlight had seeped through the corridor from the sky, making way, two friends wandering through the Ullaakut, ignoring the shadows that poisoned their minds.
_
Kanut sat down in the infirmary, the pale glow of the water illuminated on his face. He watched, mesmerized as Katara’s hands glowed. The thought of water healing had always fascinated the Anakuq, and now right in front of him was the young girl who the last time he’d seen her, could barely lift a bubble of water. It had been three days since the fall of Ba Sing Se, since the fall of the Avatar. It was a lot for him to process, but Kanut was a healer and had to quickly adapt. Now, he spent most of the days side by side with Katara in the infirmary, doing whatever he could do to help.
Nothing seemed like enough though. Katara looked terrible, heavy black bags underneath her red rimmed eyes. Kanut, ever perceiving, knew how much the Avatar meant to her. Means to her . He was just a kid. Kanut remembered watching in horror as everyone had descended the Sky Bison on that stormy night, because the boy was struck by lightning. The familiar smell of burnt flesh still lingered in Kanut’s mind, as if it hadn’t been three months. Three months . Of course, the Avatar’s case was different. The lighting had caught him, but hadn’t passed through. Not like Zuko.
He watched as Katara’s glowing hands made their way to the Avatars back, deep in concentration, like if she held onto it a little tighter, Aang might wake up.
“How does it work?” Kanut thought outlook, a sudden curiosity manifesting him. He had read some stuff about water healing, but Katara looked awful. She could use a distraction
Katara jumped, as if she’d forgotten Kanut was there, taking her eye’s of Aang.
“The healing?” Kanut nodded
Katara thought back to her healing lessons in the Northern Water tribe, racking her brains for the information. It all seemed so long ago, the North Pole. She took a deep breath.
“I remember the woman from the water tribe told me Waterbenders can heal injuries by redirecting the energy that flows within us. The chi.” Her voice wavered just a little. “I trained with the elders, and mastered Water healing in a day!”
Her eyes abruptly started to water, as was slowly letting go of the tension she held close to her tear. Kanut suddenly felt 12 again, walking across the frozen pond, the pressure beneath him threatening to let go into the icy unforgiving water the lay underneath.
“Some water healing I’m doing.” She continued with a dry chuckle. “I’m doing everything I can! I-I should have spent more time learning how to heal in the Northern Water tribe. I should have tried harder to protect Aang!. I...I should have,” but by now Katara was sobbing, tears streaming down her face.
Shit . Kanut hadn’t meant to make Katara cry, but he could imagine how she felt. How many times had he been in that same position, wondering whether or not the people laying on these beds would survive?
His Crew?
His family?
The aching sense of familiarity as the boy lay on the bed bestowed upon, because not so long ago Kanut had been in the same place, but Katara was just a kid. Spirits, they were all just kids. As best as he could, Kanut walked over to Katara, placing an awkward hand on her shoulder, trying hard to comfort her. Katara, who in return wrapped her arms around Kanut, struggling to catch her breath as she cried,
“Shhh. It’s okay,”Kanut said, soothing her, hoping he was doing this right. How did you deal with crying kids anyways? He felt his mind drift back to three years ago, when they were doing the same thing, only this time instead of on the Ullaakut, they were at the south pole. Kya had always been a haunting presence in the Southern Water Tribe’s hearts, like many others before.
But Kanut didn’t understand why Katara didn’t just talk to her Hakoda, but it wasn’t his place to ask to utter his doubts. Don’t ask questions.
“Everything will be okay Katara,” Because in all honesty, Kanut needed that to be true too. Even if he didn’t truly believe it. “Come on, you should go rest, you’ve been working too hard.”
“But-” she tried to protest, looking up at Kanut.
“Katara you need sleep.” Katara looked over at Aang.
“Hey, what if I read you something? It’ll be just like old times.” Kanut remembered when the kids were little, taking it upon himself to read to the water tribe siblings. (“Watch it,” Hakoda had said in an amusing tone. “I think Sokka is starting to read as a hobby. )
“I’m not a kid Kanut.” Katara replied shakily, but her gentle nature had returned. “You don’t have to read to me.”
Kanut gazed at her and Katara rolled her eyes warm eyes.
“Fine,” She said with a slight roll in her eye, walking across and sitting at the bed beside Aang's. “Should I call Sokka? I know how much he used to love it whenever you’d read to us back home. But I get to choose this time, cause I know he’s just going to pick some sappy poem! Can you read the one about-”
But Kanut stopped listening and stared , not at Katara but where she was sitting. Because she should not be sitting there. The Chief knew that, and so did Tomkin and Nanook and Chena and anyone else who needed to use the infirmary. Suddenly, Kanut was pulled into his thoughts. Katara had reminded him of something he tried so hard to push deep down into him all surfacing back up to his mind.
It had felt strange, the first few months Zuko was gone. Like everyday Kanut woke up, he expected to see the already sitting up in his bed. Damn Firebenders. He used to think those days when Zuko would wake him up. He never meant to, and it had taken time for him to stop apologizing, as they were both learning that it was okay.
But after that ignorance left him, he became angry. It was the kind of anger he felt at the South Pole, the day the Spirits visited him. It was at his father. The kind of anger you felt when you know that you deserved better, because Zuko deserved better.He remembered getting up to make tea one day, instinctively taking two cups again. He didn’t know how many times he’d done that, but Tui and La he couldn’t take it anymore. He had taken the Zuko’s cup, and promptly chucked it out of the window of the Ullaakut and into the ocean. He didn’t regret it.
“Kanut?,” Katara asked
“Hmmm?”
“I was just saying that-”
“You know what, never mind,” His cloudy grey eyes looked at Katara’s powerful blue ones. She could sense the shift in the mood, and looked back questioningly. “You were right, you aren’t a kid.”
Something dark flashed through Kanut’s eyes, but it was gone as soon as it came. Katara thought she imagined it, but she couldn’t shake the uneasiness that prickled in the back of her mind. Kanut had always been her favorite, his sarcastic nature and dry tendencies somehow drawing her to him, but the man who stood in front of her wasn't him.
“Are you okay Kanut?”
Kanut didn’t answer, already knowing the answer
“You go get some rest okay?” He replied, keeping his tone as neutral as he could. “I’ll watch over Aang.”
Katara looked like she was about to say something, but quickly closed her mouth. With a last quick glance towards Aang,
"Okay."
But that was the truth, wasn't it? She wasn’t a kid. The war had taken that away from her, from all of them. Katara stopped being a kid, the moment that she walked into her mother’s tent. Sokka had stopped being a kid the moment he was to watch over the tribe. Zuko... well Zuko never got to be just a kid.. He was so young, but he was destined for fall the minute he was born. The minute his father wanted to throw him over the palace walls for thinking he was a non bender, the moment when all he had been reduced to was a game piece in a cruel game of Pai Sho.
Kanut’s anger had been like lightning, a fulmination It came in quick flashes, consuming his mind, and left. Just like that. They’re not kids, they're not kids they’re not kids.
Kanut looked back at the bed beside the Avatar. “I’m sorry tough guy,”
With a shake of his head, Kanut looked out the window, thinking for the time that he should have kept the teacup with him.
_
The fall of Ba Sing Se(more like the end of the world) still wasn’t an excuse to get out of chores, Tomkin had soon learned. The vibrations of the caulking mallet could be felt across the whole deck, the sun shining on his back, sweat slowly making way to Tomkin’s olive skin. He had always cursed the sun, growing up in the South Pole had made the two months of sunlight a rare gift, but nothing more than that. Now, Tomkin had learned to appreciate its being, he felt closer to him that day.
Sokka on the other hand, was grumbling incoherently beside him. Tomkin caught the lines stupid caulking and should be working on the invasion plan, and couldn't help but think whole ordeal sounded a lot like Sokka was mimicking his father.
“You know Toph,” Sokka finally mustered out, “you would be able to do this in a second.”
Toph, who was sitting by the rail, absentmindedly bending a metal spoon into intricate shapes, turned her ear towards Sokka, eyes glassy. She grinned evilly, and with a sickly sweet voice replied,
But Sokka! You know I can’t bend wood.”
“This is metal!” Sokka exclaimed exasperatedly. He still wasn’t over the fact that his dad gave him chores on his first week back. A sense of normalcy was something his dad valued, and spending the whole day locked up in his office with the invasion plan drafts was not one of them.
Toph smiled, enjoying this. Sokka sighed and tried again.
“Aren’t you the greatest Earthbender of all time?”
She grinned even harder.
“Well that’s all you had to say Snoozles!”
She proceeded to bend all the metal on Tomkin’s side of the deck, her hands moving with such a force that looked powerful(yet also graceful). Her hand movements were reciprocated by hammering motion on the metal below her. Tomkin beamed gratefully.
“Thanks Toph!” he said, cracking a wide smile, eyes bright, still getting used to the concept of Metalbending . Clearly he had missed a lot in two years.
“Hey what about me?!” Sokka whined, putting his mallet down, looking straight at Toph.
“Ahh sorry Sokka, but this wood just makes everything so fuzzy, ya know?”
"But-" Sokka started, soon stopping.
Sokka, knowing she wouldn’t budge, picked up his caulking mallet again, pointing it toward Toph menacingly, before returning to his side of the deck. The incoherent grumbles had arrived again.
Toph and Tomkin snickered. Enjoying this moment of free time, Tomkin rested his hands over the rail, taking in the soothing smell of the ocean breeze, watching as the Earthbender played with the spoons.
“Anyways,” Toph continued, plopping herself next to Tomkin as best as she could. She still had trouble navigating herself across the wooden ship. “When are we eating again? I’m starving.”
A sudden flame lit in Tomkin's mind. He stacked his figures on top of each other, trying to remember everything Zuko had said to him. Counting in his head, he tried to figure out how many hours were still left in the day. There was about 30 minutes to go until the sun disappeared.
“The Sun should set soon enough.” Tomkin said finally, putting a celebratory hand to his hips and beaming. Zuko would be proud of him.
Sokka who had returned to the duo, presumably to bug Toph again, looked at Tomkin with a curious glint in his eye. He had thought he knew everything about the Water tribe by now. Every sail, every trick, every weapon, but apparently not. Appealed, he asked,
“What was that?”
Toph’s face twisted into confusion, “What? What was what?”
“It’s a sailors trick.” Tomkin replied enthusiastically, words sounding familiar in his head. He’d remembered a few days after Zuko had tried to escape again, he had begged him to teach him the movement. “You stack your palms towards the sky like this...and with that you can usually figure out how many more hours of sunlight there are in a day!
“Cool!” Sokka answered back. That would have been useful to know on endless days flying on Appa. Toph gave up on trying to find out what they were doing, her feet only sensing slight movement in their arms. “Where’d you learn it?”
Tomkin smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Sokka had noticed that no one's smile quite reached their eyes anymore.
“Someone taught me.”
“Mysterious,” Sokka replied, crossing his arms, “But I’ll take it. I’m starving.”
“Yeah you’re always starving, come on Tomkin, enough with the hand tricks,” Toph waved him over to the Chop’s, even though there was still 30 minutes before the sun set. (Sokka’s mallet lay on the ground unforgotten.)
“Someone taught me”
The kids didn’t harp on the thought,(thankfully) because they didn’t know the weight of those three words. The flash of his golden eyes in the sunlight etched into Tomkin’s mind. He tried to shake the image away, but it wouldn’t go.
It had been a rough few months, and Tomkin had dealt with it crying,(And spirits he had cried so much that day.) but the kid who took his place the next week was silent. He felt a certain type of anger, one he hadn’t felt in a long time, and had absolutely no idea how to deal with it. No one called him Little Tom anymore, and Nanook had started to worry. Some days he wouldn’t come out of his Cabin until midday, absentmindedly tracing his fingers over the Tang Xianzu’s autograph, remembering how excited Zuko sounded and… and how he almost sounded like a kid.
But Tomkin had dealt with it. He had dealt with it in a way that shouldn’t be learned so young, yet it was a common language that most young kids in the tribe, in this war knew. They had known it for years, but it didn’t make the pain any less bearable.
Zuko had been a ghost, haunting the long hallways of the Ullaakut. The raspy voice ringing in his ears, as if Zuko was still here on the ship, taking in the sun's rays(Agni, he had called it), talking about Firebending. But his presence was an ephemeral one, lasting as quick as the Aurora, short but of an utmost significance.
But now Tomkin was in an aphelion, he recalled from Kanut’s poetry books from that day Sokka had joined them in his and Nanook's cabins. The point in orbit in which the planets were furthest away from the sun. Zuko was the sun, and the tribe were the planets. Some days, it didn’t even feel like they were in orbit, rather they were all scattered across the solar system, waiting for the gravity of the Sun to pull them back into orbit. To pull them together again. He didn't know when that day would come, but the Water Tribe were Warriors, and they didn't believe in just giving up.
He turned his face towards the sun, savoring its eternal rays for the last time before it disappeared under La. For the sun was the presence of Zuko, his shy smiles and his raspy laughter and his warm skin and how-
The loud yells of Toph had other plans.
“Hey Sunshine, Are you coming or not?”
His voice cracking, he replied “Sunshine?”
Toph raised an eyebrow, punching him lightly and Tomkin smiled warily.
“I’ll take it.”
_
“So you Sugar Queen, Sunshine, and Nan all tried to steal the rum in the South Pole. Multiple times.”
“Well Katara had always threatened to tell Gran-Gran and Mom, but really Tomkin was the one most interested.”
“I threatened to tell Mom because it was a terrible idea.”
While Sokka and Katara walked down the ever so familiar corridors of the Ullaakut, reliving all the precious times he had had together before the crew had left the South Pole, Toph asked questions.
“So did you ever get to that booze?” She asked dryly.
Sokka and Katara laughed as they descended the stairs, making sure to keep a hold on Toph who was still getting used to the Ullaakut’s wooden structure.
“Of course not, Tomkin got us all caught every single time,” Sokka replied with an over-exaggerated annoyance. "It was almost impressive."
“Oh yeah?” Katara, muttered “And that’s coming from Mr. Sokka the subtle himself.”
“Exactly!”, Sokka replied, pointedly ignoring Katara’s eye roll.
“They’ve had two years, I don’t see why Tomkin and Nanook haven’t attempted to try and steal it,” Katara remarked with a smile.
“Yeah, I asked Tomkin and Nanook about that, but they got really weird about it,” he exclaimed while climbing down the stairs.
Sokka, Katara and Toph finally reached the ship's hold, taking in the smell of the rustic wood. It was a mess, piles of documents and empty bottles scattered all over.
The three of them had been tasked with getting some supplies from the ship’s hold, because the lot of them had the most incredible plan ever. Sokka honestly didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of this earlier. While his sister was in Ba Sing Se, the general had mentioned a single fire nation ship heading to Omashu with some cargo. Sokka and Katara planned to intercept it before it had reached its destination, a perfect disguise against the fire nation. They had already had too many close calls. Hiding within the enemy was their best chance of surviving . And Toph couldn’t see much on the wooden ship, so the sooner they get to fire nation ships, the better.
They scourged the hold, looking for anything useful. Cutlasses, ropes, war paint. It was almost like looking through their childhood home, reliving memories they’d thought were lost in those two long years. (“Are those Tulok’s soaps?.”)( “Why does a ship even need flowerpots?”) ("Sokka do NOT eat that baguette, who knows how old that is?" "It's for science!)
“Huh, what are all these empty bottle’s doing here?” Katara said, picking them up.
Toph grabbed one of the bottles from Katara sniffing the tops, “Huh? Smells like rum.”
“Now how would you know how rum smells like?” Sokka questioned, taking one of the bottles and sniffing it for himself.
Toph started to explain, but was quickly cut of the Water Tribesman
“You know what, forget I even asked. Of course you know how it what it smells like.” Toph grinned. “Why is the rum gone? There’s tons of bottles”
“You ask me Snoozles,” Toph said, sounding bored.
“Spirits, this place is a mess,” Sokka finally acknowledged, scanning the unkept hold.
Katara stared at Sokka, knowingly.
“What…?” Sokka replied, still scanning the room.
“You want to clean it up don't you?” Katara asked deliberately.
“Of course I want to clean it up, do you see all these bottles?!” If there was one thing Sokka valued, it was order.
“That’ll have to wait, Snoozles, we can't get these up by ourselves.” Toph replied, hoisting the box of supplies up to her hip with an impressive strength. Sokka and Katara followed suit, getting as many supplies they could carry to the top of the deck.
Chena, Tulok and Aput were waiting by the rails, sharpening the weapons sprawled among them, preparing them for the attack. They had until nightfall to prepare.
“Took you guys long enough,”
“What did you expect?” Sokka questioned, “It’s a mess down there!”
“Yeah,” Katara said, walking over to be next to Sokka, setting down the box of caulking mallets. “Looks like Tomkin and Nanook finally got their hands on the rum” She added, grinning.
Tulok tensed next to him, momentarily pausing the sharpening of his boomerang and absentmindedly touching the ribbon on his head.
Chena’s face, however, was distant, his icy grey eyes turning towards the ocean. He took the supplies from the three kids, but his mind was in a completely different place.
“Yeah, guess they did.”
“Now that’s a story I’ve got to hear!” Toph said, sitting between Sokka and Katara.
Tulok and Aput both looked at Chena, who didn’t return their vigilant gaze. They were no doubt trying hard to forget that day., like a memory they had been so desperate to keep inside them had finally come out and been exposed.
When Chena was born, it was cold. Of course it was, it was the fucking South Pole. But the village had said he was a violent flame, his loud cries piercing through the vicious winds. He was born from the fire, and all his life that’s what he had been taught to see. A spark can set a whole forest in flames, and that’s how Chena felt that day. It had only been a week since his kidnapping.
Chena was angry. He was so fucking angry. Chena had learned to hate fire, but just as he finally started to view Zuko as something else, it had been snatched away from him. He had blamed the fire nation for the death of his daughter, because he didn’t want to blame himself. But comforting lies did no good to anyone. It was the Prince that saved his life that day. The Prince of the Fire Nation, and all Chena was trying to do was keep him safe. You had one job idiot.
Chena had been tossing and turning all night, much to Tulok and Aput’s annoyance. His mind a set of distorted thoughts, his fist clenched, as if Chena squeezed his eyes shut just a little bit tighter, this would all just be a horrible dream. It all became too much. He felt feverish, head throbbing when finally he shot up out of bed and threw the blankets over him.
“Chena wha-,”
“Not now Aput” he growled his voice deep.
The commotion would wake up the crew, he knew that, but if they knew what was good for them, they wouldn’t ask questions. He fist still ached from yesterday, and he hoped that Bato’s nose did too. I thought you of all people wouldn’t sympathize with some Ashmaker Chena.
Chena snarled at the memory, Bato had said it so offhandedly, as if he didn’t know what was going to happen next.
He stormed up down the rickety flight of stairs to the ship’s hold, his large feet shaking the corridor that was much too narrow for him. As soon as he got to the ship’s hold, he looked for the rum, throwing anything else aside to lay forgotten. His eyes finally set on the box labeled peanuts before him. He didn’t realize he was on the edge of the deck until he arrived, his thoughts a violent bloody pit, interrupted by raspy laughter every few minutes.
“In our defence,” Zuko tried, “Aput only checks the rum every other week.
“Yes” Tulok had said. “ but there are worse things than death”
It all felt so long ago, when he Tulok, and Aput, pouted over the rum being gone. The laughter of the three boys still echoed through the calm waves, if you listened carefully. But Chena didn’t, as the calm waves suddenly became brash and brutal, trying to drown Zuko’s laughter out.
Suddenly, he was looking over the rail, bottles of rum beside him. Chena hadn’t remembered getting there. He needed to clear his mind. To get rid of the laughter that was Zuko’s echoing through the haunting hallways of the Ullaakut. To cleanse his head of the things he should have done.
He took one bottle of rum, and proceeded and watched as it disappeared under the ocean, taking away the evidence, like La had always done. Fish be damned.
He took another, and a few more, until there weren’t any left. He resisted the tempting urge to chuck the bottles under the crashing waves too.
His mind was as empty as all those bottles of rum, well, empty wasn’t the word, it was clear. Those bottles of rum had served their purpose, cleansing his fire. But the truth was, he didn’t care. As of right now, he didn’t care about the war, or Hakoda’s plan for what they wouldn't do in Chameleon bay, or the Fire Nation.
He just wanted the kid back.
He saw his daughter who had gone much too soon from this world and for so long he had thought that he would never forgive them. Chena had hated the kid. It was times like these that he still wished he did. He hated that he’d saved his life, hated that despite all of the mistrust and anger he had put on him, the kid still fucking took a lighting bolt for the warriors. It would just be easier . Because the act of redamancy did no good to anyone anymore.
The crew had no doubt been woken up by Chena’s thundering presence. Aput and Tulok watched from the stairs leading to the cabins. Chena caught their eye, and glowered at them right back. They understood. In fact the whole crew understood. For that past week, things had been off in the Water Tribe. In the past their hearts were beaten at one, the thing binding them together a strong force, the promise of friendship, love and family that bound them together. After Zuko’s kidnapping, that force was scattered, the sync gone, but today was different.
Because if there was one thing the tribe understood, it was loss. They had been taught to deal with it as children, and the war had only made it go faster. Zuko had been an aching presence in their hearts, but today they could all tell that they were finally on the same ship. The Water Tribe were strong, and stubborn and a force to be yet defeated. And everytime they fell, every time something was taken from them, they got back up.
But today was not the day. Chena closed his eyes, Calo’s giggles replaced Zuko's low rasps of laughter.
And let it all go.
He was quickly brought back to the present.
“Maybe another time.” Aput replied, with a small smile. Chena looked at the kids, and smiled too.
_
The Chief of the Southern Water Tribe stood at the peak of the Ullaakut, the pale glow of the moonlight illuminating on his face as he stared at the mighty dark waves in front of him. The ocean had always been a big part of Hakoda’s life, the mighty waves were a reminder that the world was vast and empty, cold and unforgiving. He’d always seen the ocean as a tether, for it was the spirit of the crew, the very thing that gave them strength. But now, they were a reminder to Hakoda that it was vast and empty, cold and unforgiving, just like the world.
The quiet susurrus of the warrior’s whispers fell over the deck, as they put on their war paint, readying themselves. Any minute now, a Fire Nation ship would show up, and they would be waiting.The plan was simple. Katara had mentioned that there would be a fire nation ship headed this path on to Omashu to deliver some cargo. They couldn’t afford to be caught by the fire nation in these waters, so when they spotted the ship, when the time was right, they would take over the ship. It was the perfect opportunity to hide within the enemy
Hakoda hissed. Not the enemy.
His son stood beside him, in a similar fashion.
“It’s a beautiful moon.” Hakoda whispered, looking at the full moon above him. Tui would give them their strength today.
“Yeah,” Sokka whispered back,“It really is.”
Sokka’s nerves felt electrifying and giddy, it had been two years. And now he was finally starting to do something with his dad. For a moment, he felt 13 again, watching with a hollow emptiness as the crew left him behind at the south pole. Now, he was with them again, he was going to fight alongside them. His family.
Hakoda however, was worried. As a father should be. Spirits Sokka was only sixteen, he shouldn’t be fighting wars, he shouldn’t be drafting invasion plans he shouldn't-
But that was the reality. He looked over at his daughter, who was helping the little Earthbender, Toph, prepare. Their eyes met, Katara was looking at him with an opia, intense and unforgiving. Katara quickly looked away. Hakoda sighed, it was now or never. She had been cleverly avoiding him all week, and he had a distinct feeling why.
He wished Katara would get over it to say what was on her mind, because in reality maybe that was what Hakoda needed to hear. He had left his kids, just like he had left Zuko, helpless and abandoned. He gripped the Dao sword, as he did whenever he thought of the Fire Prince. But before he could walk over to Katara, something caught Sokka’s eye.
“Whoa, cool sword dad!” Sokka looked at with wide eyes, like a child who was being presented with a luxurious gift."I can't believe I didn't see that earlier!" .
“I can’t believe I didn’t SEE that either!” Toph exclaimed, crossing her arms, walking up to Sokka.
Sokka was still obvious, his mind racing. He grabbed the sword from Hakoda, looking at it intently.
“Sokka plea-”
Sokka made a noise that sounded in between a gasp of awe, and a shriek.
“It’s a Dao sword! A fire nation one too?! How did you get this?”
Hakoda tried as gently as possible to get it back from Sokka, but Toph had already stepped in front of the chief.
“A Dao sword? Isn’t that the one the Blue Spirit uses?”
Katara popped in, pointedly not looking towards Hakoda.
“The Blue Spirit?” She started, wiggling her eyes, "That must interest you, right Sokka?”
Toph grinned, and loud enough for the whole crew to hear she exclaimed. “Yeah! Sokka’s got this big stupid crush on the Blue Spirit!”
“You know, both of you are much more enjoyable to be around when your mouths are shut.” Sokka said through grit teeth, who was by now unsheathing the swords, trying(and failing) to mimic the moves Aang had described in his heroic retelling of the Pohui Stronghold escape.
“That’s one thing you and Tomkin have in common,” Nanook joined in too, while simultaneously putting war paint on Tomkin. “Having a crush on the Blue Spirit, that is.”
Tomkin immediately tensed up. It was almost incredible how you could see the red of his face through the darkness.
“No I don’t!” he said, messing up the paint on his face in the process, in turn getting scolded by Nanook.
“Do too,” Nanook retaliated smugly, and was by now imitating Tomkin. “Nan, did you hear about the Blue Spirit?! Look Nan, if I can figure out how to use these swords, I would be just like him. If he were my age, do you think we’d be friends Nan?!”
“No way, Sunshine here too?!” Toph replied, who was by now doubling over and clutching her stomach.
Chena popped in, sharpening his boomerang, “Yup. If I hear one more word about the Blue Spirit from Little Tom, I’m going to start throwing shit.”
Soon the whole crew was joining in on the conversation, making Tomkin's face go red while Nanook snickered. Other the other side of the deck Tulok, Aput, and Kanut arguing over whether the Blue Spirit could actually an Airbender.
The Fire Nation ship was going to be here soon, but Hakoda let the crew banter, not joining in. He was trying to get the sword from Sokka, who had strayed to the other side of the ship, inspecting the insignia closely. But the only thing going through his mind was Zuko.
Each member of the crew thought the events that happened that day was their fault. Kanut thought he shouldn’t have told Zuko to make some tea, Tomkin thought he shouldn’t have gotten mad at Zuko. Nanook though he shouldn’t have told Hakoda about the events that played out in the earth kingdom, Chena thought he should have tried harder to convince Zuko to stay, and Hakoda? Hakoda could have done a lot of things. That didn’t matter, it didn’t matter what had happened leading up to Zuko’s kidnapping, it was however what he chose to do next.
Your job is to protect the many. Not the few.
Is that all that Zuko was shrunk to, the few?
No Zuko was everything. He was the very reason for fighting this war, along with his kids and his tribe. He was the reason that Hakoda barely slept at night, thoughts drifting to the Fire Lord, and what he would do to him if they had ever met. He was...he was just another kid that Hakoda had failed.
But, Zuko’s skin was not born rough, rather it had been burned one too many times. And there were only so many times he could heal. He had been broken down all his life, but he always got back up. He thought about what people saw in Zuko, his stubbornness, his grit, his smoldering flames and raging winds, but when it came down to it, he was a child. A child who had burned out too quickly, like once bright stars did. Leaving his kids was a certain kind of loss, a barren ache that sat in the pit of Hakoda’s heart, and that helplessness that followed, it was awfully familiar.
Hakoda finally snapped, catching up to his son.
“Sokka give me back the sword,” His voice was loud and demanding.
Sokka obeyed, not thinking about it much. But the Crew had heard their Chief, and the light mood dispersed, just as quickly as it had started.
Hakoda scanned the deck, feeling dozens of eye’s on him. Some understanding, others questioning, but he didn’t pay heed to that.
Instead, he saw Zuko, hanging over the tip of the Ullaakut, lotus tile clutched in his hands, remembering just now scared and afraid he had been of him, of all of them. A kid who just wanted his Mom.
Instead, he heard laughter and smelt rum, as he turned his head to see the three of the youngest drunk, reminiscing how light and detached Zuko had been. A kid, who didn't quite know what that had meant.
Instead, he felt Zuko next to him, talking intently about the Dao swords, the meaning behind them. Hakoda could almost feel the misty ocean spray of that day, like if he turned his head, Zuko would still be here, a presence not yet lifted from the crew, from the ship. A kid, who he had failed to protect.
So when Hakoda spotted the fire nation ship coming towards them, he took in the sight like a gift. Because maybe, just maybe he would get rid of the shadows. He looked at the crew, they understood too, this week had been nothing but a painful reminder of what they’d lost. But then he looked at his children, their ready faces looking right back with a determination, and nodded his head.His voice was strong and unwavering as he spoke his commands.
He was doing this for them, for Zuko.
All week, Sokka and Katara’s being had only served a crew the reminder of what had happened in Gaoling. They were all ready to let that go. He waited until the fire nation ship was directly parallel toward him. He gripped the Dao sword one last time, and in an eerily familiar manner he raised his fist, and put it down. The fight had begun.