Chapter Text
Zuko felt seasick. That didn’t happen to him.
On the deck huddled in the sunlight, he gripped the edge of the taffrail like a ladder-rung with his body slouched on the floor. He was hoping no one was minding him, but Sokka strolled over with a note of amusement in his voice and step to shatter that hope. “Gonna hurl?”
Myself, overboard. Yes. “Go away.”
He crossed his arms over his chest triumphantly. “Not like your metal clunker-junkers, huh? Water Tribe ships embrace the waves.” He bent his kneels and waved his arms like a jellyfish. “Feel the motion of the ocean.”
He wanted to shout that he was not seasick—obviously, he’d had quite a damned lot of experience on a ship—but that would mean confessing the real reason he felt ill, which was not going to happen. Unable to reply, he groaned and huffed out fire threateningly, not sure whether his stomach or his ego felt the more injured. Sokka leapt back. “Keep it up with your flames and I’m going to dump a bucket of water over your head to extinguish you. You know, you really ought to learn how to relax, like me.”
At that moment, a bucket-like-content of water splashed onto his own face, taking him off balance and leaving his wolf-tail sopping. Katara stomped towards him, then put a hand on her hip. “Sokka, stop lording over him. Go help Dad with the rigging.”
He wrung his hair out. “A guy can’t even joke around without getting a bath?” He grumbled on his way to the other side of the deck. Even Hakoda, upon seeing him, had a hard time not laughing.
Katara turned to Zuko and put a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“What am I going to say to them? Your grandmother is going to chase me into the ocean with a wooden spoon in hand.”
“Knowing Gran-gran, she would use a fishing spear.” As he frowned, she giggled. “You’ll be fine. It’s thanks to you that we were able to end the war, Zuko. Even my dad is warming up to you.”
“That’s not as evident to me as it might be to you.”
She sat down beside him, resting her head against the wooden side-rail. He was already in the heavier winter coat, but she was in a lighter outfit, used to the temperature. Her outfit was from Agna Qel’a’s market, and had a beaded collar and embroidered sash. Into the white fabric was stitched a pattern of flowers and foliage with bright-colored thread. All of that would be hidden under a heavy coat soon. “Sokka was trying to cheer you up, in his own way. He just happens to be an idiot.” As she leaned against him, he began to perk up. Her warmth was like a small fragment of the sun. He was about to get a lot of that. Summer was coming into bloom in the South Pole, with its extended period of daylight. They had left just past the spring equinox, and by the time they arrived the igloos would be replaced by their summer tents and the season for hunting and gathering would be opened. He’d heard enough about it from Katara. While it was certainly better than winter, he still hesitated, remembering their summer in Agna Qel’a that left him an insomniac.
He asked, “Is your father okay with us? Being together, I mean.”
She hesitated. “Well, like any father, I’m sure he has reservations. You’ll be fine.” He glanced over her shoulder and met eyes with Hakoda, who was watching them carefully while his son performed a complicated set of adjustments to the rope controlling the sails. “What can he do about it?”
“Kill me.”
She laughed. He wished Aang was there to vouch for him. Aang had gone off with a daughter of a wealthy Earth Kingdom family to train for earthbending. Her family was from Gao Ling, the city which had been destroyed by Azula and Zhao’s fleet. Zuko had earmarked a fund for the construction effort, but rebuilding would take time, and the resentment would linger for generations. The girl had fled with her family during the cannonade and was the only earthbender not captured, since her father wouldn’t let her participate as she was blind and thought by him to not be more than a novice, as incorrect as that proved to be. According to Aang she was a genius, but Zuko had no baseline for measuring such an ability.
The ship was passing the outlying islands, forested but relatively chilly compared to Caldera City, and still classed as taiga. The Water Tribe unofficially governed the otherwise uninhabited area and used to forage and hunt there seasonally. The islands were peppered in wild-growing once-domestic crops because of that, and had once served as logging camps, though it had been too risky in the past decades as Fire’s navy kept patrol. The seas were free again and expeditions would return.
Hakoda and Sokka began shouting and waving their arms. He and Katara stood up to see what was happening, and Suki came out of the cabin, dressed in Water clothing in white and navy-blue. Another ship was nearby, anchored at the shore of one of the islands. Hakoda and his son brought the sail in and cast an anchor, then they stood by the siderail to check the other group out. They were launching a rowboat into the shallows to come out to meet them. “They’re from another settlement,” said Hakoda. “One of my men is heading them. We disbanded after the conclusion of the war and sent them home.” The rowboat pulled aside their ship in speaking distance. “Hanta, how have you been?”
“Hakoda, nice to see you. We’re out gathering wood and meat. Did you come from the meeting at the North Pole?”
“Yes, and we’re heading home now.” He looked over and motioned for Zuko to join him at the railing. “And we’re bringing the new Firelord for a tour.” The other man grew silent upon seeing Zuko. Hakoda offered, “My children have been traveling with him for quite some time now. About a year and a half, is that right, Sokka? He’s signed a peace treaty with Chief Arnook and King Kuei.”
“Treaties are well and fine,” Hanta said dispassionately. Zuko felt self-conscious at the cold reception. “We’ll be heading back to our village in a few days. Do you need any supplies?”
“We have everything we need for now. I’ll see you around the close of the season. Come to us and we’ll have a meal and host a market.”
“Sounds good. See you then, Chief.” He had the look of remembering something. “Is your daughter here, the waterbender?”
Hakoda gestured for her. Katara walked over, standing beside Zuko close enough to touch shoulders in a protective gesture against the veiled distrust of the man, and demonstrated some waterbending for him. His expression changed, and he was put into a good mood. “Beautiful. My father will come for the meeting, he’s always wanted to see waterbending. Until then.” He waved goodbye and headed back to shore. When he was out of the danger from their wake, Sokka restored the sails as they lifted the anchor to continue.
“They live about a hundred miles from us,” explained Hakoda. “They’ll come after first snowfall, as soon as the sleds can run. They’ve stayed inland, away from risk of a raid, in the past two generations. He lost his infant daughter a few years ago. His family was holding out hope she might be a waterbender, but she didn’t survive the winter. I’m sure he adores Katara.”
Zuko didn’t want to ask how many settlements there were total, as the answer would always be, ‘Fewer than before.’ Suki called them all to tea. Sokka and she stayed out on deck to control the ship, but they three went inside to get out of the wind. Zuko opened his coat and shrugged it off. Half of his clothes were Fire-red, half Water-blue. He was coming to like that.
Half an hour later, Suki popped in and called them out to deck. In the water were a pod of humpback whales, diving and resurfacing to herd the krill into a mass. Their blow-holes blasted out a wide spray. Each whale was larger than the boat itself.
#
As they drew close to landfall, Zuko had a difficult time recognizing it as the same place he had once landed. Gone was the ice, withdrawn to the far south closer to the magnetic pole. Those ice floes his ship had grappled with were absent. Instead a grass-banked coast bordered glittering blue water. Children had seen the incoming ship belonging to Hakoda and raced along the coast to follow them to dock. The village of an ice-wall and igloos had changed to a circle of tents erected from driftwood and hide. Katara sat back and watched her father and brother land the ship expertly without needing any assistance from her.
The previous summer, still in the blush of the defeat of his father, he and Katara had stayed over the season in Caldera City until the time came to head to Agna Qel’a, but her brother and Suki had taken a trip to the South, and the children already recognized her. Zuko stood next to her and took a glance at her necklace, rose quartz with a trio of peridot in a ribbon of peach silk. The craftsmanship was better than expected, despite being carved by Sokka’s hand, as apparently his crafts skills were better than his drawing ability. It suited her as something bright and appealing but fundamentally foreign, part his tradition with a space reserved for her own desires.
The ship was stabilized and they stepped down to the bank. Pebbles washed in clean surf and bordered silt-dense sand with a rough grit. All else had exploded to color. Having seen it for the first time frozen over in deep snow, it was hard to recognize any feature of the landlay in that state. Lichen, moss, sedge, and small flowers covered the continent. Already the villagers had gathered to greet them, and Zuko was subject to their stares. Katara took his arm and stood at his side. This act transformed their expressions into acceptance, like it was that easy, and they began pestering for news and stories.
An old woman with white hair greeted Katara. “You look more like Kya every time I see you. Is this the lucky young man Sokka mentioned?”
“Gran-gran, this is Zuko.”
She met his eyes and examined him. Blue-eyed, edged in age lines, calm but hiding wisdom and clarity of mind. Zuko braced himself to be chewed out, but she smiled without comment to the event. “Let’s have tea.”
It may have been summer, but the sea-breeze was still arctic cold, and the temperature was the equivalent of Fire Nation winter. Without trees the wind swept across the land unchecked.
The teaset was white painted with blue motifs of ships and albatross. Zuko sat down and pulled from his bag the wrapped parcel and presented it to the family. Her grandmother paused to unwrap it. He explained, “Gifts, to thank you for hosting me. My uncle has also written a letter.” A book, the letter, and several tea-cakes of high quality were stacked inside the fabric wrapping. The book was from Agna Qel’a, a collection of cultural stories dating back to when the two tribes had been still in contact. The old woman looked at it appreciatively, then set it aside to examine the tea-cakes, which were pressed dried tea leaves aged to achieve better flavor. The true tea bush grew in both the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom, but not in Water territory, as it preferred a mild climate high in altitude. At the poles they had only herbal teas.
“Well, I’ll use this tea, then. How thoughtful.” She took one and opened it to break a chunk off with a slender knife, then prepared a kettle and pot. Zuko squirmed, as that hadn’t been his intention and he didn’t know how to take her comment. Hakoda spoke with the others from the village, recounting his trip north. The tent was by far their largest, but even then, seating inside was limited to a dozen, and most of the villagers could not join. Children yelled in play and scampered around, and there were sounds of tools being used and dogs yapping in the distance. Inside the tent they spoke in soft voices, and the atmosphere was warm and increasingly fragranced with the brewing tea. In the background were notes of kelp and cooked meat.
The stove was open-flame below with a grate and metal case above, upon which could be placed a cooking pot. The smoke channeled up through a gap in the tent’s ceiling to vent the smoke. He felt at peace with the fire, but in watching it missed some of the conversation. Hakoda had been describing Agna Qel’a, and the grandmother commented, “Sounds the same as ever.”
“Pakku mentioned he would like to come down, if you would have him.”
The old woman set the teapot on the table and wrapped it in a square of fabric to retain the heat. “Did he, now?”
“He gave me a bird—I have it in a cage the boys are bringing down from the ship. Think of your answer and I’ll put it in the letter to send at the end of the season. I’d like to spare the poor thing a flight in winter.”
She exhaled, slowly, heavily, like there was a lifetime’s worth of frustration penned up inside her. “I’ll have some time to think about it, then.” At that time a woman ducked into the tent and sat a variety of dishes at the table for them, greeted the chief, and left again. The matter was let lie, and tea poured out for everyone by Suki’s hand. She hardly left Sokka’s side, and the two were settled together sitting as close as possible on the cushions surrounding the low table. The grandmother took her cup and inhaled the fragrance from the steam. “Thank you. What excellent quality.”
Zuko sat up straight, waiting for her to take a sip. They began speaking about fish—what species had their run already, which were coming down migrating to the spawning grounds. The grandmother sipped it, paused, then set the cup down, and continued talking to Hakoda about salmon varieties. Zuko fidgeted, but resettled when Katara put a hand on his arm. “This is good tea,” she whispered.
The tent was decorated in furs and hides, telling the history of the tribe’s successful hunts. In the back the sleeping area was partially cordoned off with curtains hung from hooks running along the tent frame. There was enough room for two or three people to have slept there, but the majority of the floor was living space for gathered friends at the table. Eager to calm his stomach, he began sampling the dishes: strips of yak fat salted and fried crisp, seaweed salad topped with lumpfish roe, sliced raw fish laid out on kelp, musk-ox meat tartare, dark salty dipping-sauce with a sweet fruity note, green salad of sprouts, watercress, and edible flowers, and a dish of glistening magenta berry compote. He watched how Sokka ate and copied him.
The same woman entered the tent with counted-out ramekins of steaming-hot soup for them all. Katara said it was suaasat, made with boiled tiger-seal. It was dark and rich, served out in small portions because it was so filling and creamy with fat. While the North refined their food to a more gourmet arrangement, the South preferred to leave it reminiscent of its origin and plain to showcase the ingredient quality.
After the meal and conversation they were released. The sun was just as high and felt disorienting. The village wasn’t built like any city he’d been to. It was a jumble without streets, and on its periphery were a variety of domestic animals and communal storage areas. Katara was happy to guide him. She was bright and energetic, finally back to visit home; no matter what the facilities provided, it was worth it to see her happy. The polite refrain was broken, and she was swarmed by children all talking over each other at her. She picked up a girl around seven and swung her around. “You’ve gotten so big, Yuka!”
The oldest were around age twelve, but there was an obvious gap: under age six, there were no children at all anywhere in the village, representing the period where all the men had gone out to war. It would leave a strange mark in their population which would last for another eighty years as a constant reminder of what had been taken from them. Some of the women were newly pregnant, since the return of their husbands, though it was less evident under the bulky clothing than it would be in Fire garments.
Something rammed him from behind and he was taken down, landing face-down on the ground with an “Oof!” A child knelt atop his back, pinning him down. Zuko twisted out of it, hopped back to his feet, and before he knew it had one child hanging from his neck and another from his arm.
“Firebend for us!”
Having just regained his inner warmth from the meal, the kids put him to task bending for their entertainment, and wouldn’t leave him alone until he was exhausted and Sokka was shouting at them that the arctic hens needed to be fed and the eggs collected. Then the pack of children raced off without apology or thanks and the two were left in quiet. Katara was suppressing a laugh. She reached a hand up and wiped sand from his forehead. “So, still nervous?”
“Your family didn’t ask me anything. I thought I would be pestered with endless questions, but they ignored me.”
“They didn’t ignore you. They accepted you. It’s respectful not to question people’s pasts, or to treat them like a stranger.”
“Wait, really? So, are they not mad at me?”
“If you’re dating me, you’re a part of our family already, from their perspective.”
He slumped in relief. She pulled him close and ruffled his hair. “I thought I did something wrong,” he said. “My uncle picked that tea out. But then I was worried it was presumptuous, like your tea wouldn’t be good enough so I had to bring my own, and I was sitting there in dread that I had mortally offended your grandmother.”
Katara laughed. “Every time anyone goes out, she begs them to bring back tea from abroad. Your uncle picked well. She said she liked it, didn’t she?”
“Well, yeah, but wasn’t she just being polite?”
“People here mean what they say.” She glanced at his face, bit her lip, and looked down. “Anyway, it would be good to head to bed soon. We have our own private tent, you know. Just us.”
He grew excited until remembering it would be a thin tent with no real door, let alone the sound-dampening quality of walls. “They’ll hear everything.”
She tugged his arm and whispered, “So, do it quietly.”
Her, in a blush of warmth, the salt of sea-travel still on her skin, a tangle of blankets, every draft a thrill on his bare back; finishing into the lure of sleep timed for their four-hour grace of darkness, her body close to his, exhausted enough to sleep late even through the sunrise.
Instructions for the morning reached similarity to land camp with his disbanded crew. It came easier to him than he’d imagined—after so many years, it was the palace he was raised in which seemed the stranger setting. Breakfast was hearty and the meal energy-rich. Then came the bad news. She said, “For the first day back we had mercy to recuperate, but now it’s work. You’ll be going with Sokka today and he’ll let you know your tasks.”
The South Pole’s tribe put even the Firelord to work.