avocado_love | Another Brother: Chapter 5

S	M	T	W	T	F	S
				1	2	3
4	5	6	7	8	9	10
11	12	13	14	15	16	17
18	19	20	21	22	23	24
25	26	27	28	29	30	31

Another Brother: Chapter 5

Tuesday, August 19th, 2008 01:06 pm

Title: Another Brother
Rating: PG-13 (T)
Warning: AU
Summary: It was a mission of revenge. There weren't supposed to be any survivors, but Chief Hakoda couldn't bring himself to kill the Fire Nation boy. Against his better judgment, he brought him home. (A Zuko joins the Water Tribe story.)
Notes: Spoilers for Southern Raiders
*******

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Author's Notes: Hey guys! I’m really excited about this chapter, but I have to give a little word of warning: I’m introducing a couple of new ideas here that may not coincide with people’s view of elemental spirits in bending. I’m trying to make it as believable as possible, and I’ll explain my reasoning at the end of the chapter. So, enjoy!

I know, maybe you could find a nice Earth Kingdom family to adopt you.

- Azula, Zuko Alone

Hakoda sat, traditional style in the Tribe’s great roundhouse — the largest structure in the village. As per the name, the structure was circular in shape, both as a nod to the Spirit of the Moon and to best fit as many people in as small of space as possible. A blazing fire had been lit up in the center of the room, and the air was pleasantly warm and smoky. Soon, he knew, it would be almost uncomfortably hot both with the warmth of all of the Tribe’s adults packed in, and their angry words.

Bato took his place to Hakoda’s right, and sat whittling some kind of figurine out of wood. Hakoda could sense his curiosity, but even his second in command and best friend would learn what happened with the rest of the Tribe. He could read Bato like he could read himself, and he planned on using him as a gage to reflect the mood of his people.

Hakoda closed his eyes, collecting his thoughts — waiting. He heard murmured greetings as people slowly trickled in. Adult voices — for none of the children except for the smallest babies were allowed to attend. Someone grabbed up an aged seal-skin drum and began to pound out a low, welcoming thrum. As if that were a signal, the rest of the stragglers came in and took their seats.

Hastily called gatherings like this were rare. The tribe trusted Hakoda and his council of elders to make most of the major decisions in regards to when and where the next hunt would be, for marriage blessings, and war. But Hakoda was not a fool. This was a special situation; a decision that required the combined will of the Tribe.

Finally, there was a small, almost imperceptible shift in the air. Even with his eyes shut, Hakoda knew that everyone had gathered and was waiting. He took a final deep breath to steady himself, and opened his eyes.

Instantly, a hush fell over the crowd.

“My brothers and sisters,” he said, and his strong baritone voice carried easily to every ear. “I come to you today with a story to tell, and at the end we will decide as a people what to do about it. I ask only that you allow me to state my words first, and ask questions after.”

He looked around, meeting blue gazes one by one — People, faces he had known all of his life. They trusted him as their leader, just as they trusted his father before him to do the same. He hoped that it would be enough.

“I am sitting in front of you today as your Chief, but also as the father of Sokka. He is alive today because of the actions of the Healer Kuthruk, and to the Fire Nation boy, Zuko.”

So he began to tell his story, starting from the very beginning when Sokka first approached him asking if Zuko could come along on their ice-fishing trip.

Hakoda knew himself to be a great speaker. He knew how to stir a man’s heart with stories, and how to frighten children into behaving during long winter months. Just as he had seen Sokka’s own innate talent for creative planning, he had the ability to show the truth in his words, and make someone feel what he was speaking.

So when he told his people how one moment he was feeding the polar-dogs and watching the boys run off to hunt, and the next they had both fallen through the ice, some of the women gasped and Hakoda knew he had drawn them into his story.

“Most of you are aware,” Hakoda said, pausing at that moment to sweep his gaze around the room, “of the choice I faced at that moment.”

Some of the men looked away, not meeting his eyes. It was a cruel fact of antarctic life that if two people were hypothermic and there was only one parka to go around — a brutal decision would have to be made. Hakoda was the only adult, the only one to build a fire and keep a boy moving around it. . It was every man’s worst nightmare: Which to lend his jacket, and which to leave to death by exposure?

And they all knew, without saying, that this horrible thing had been on Hakoda’s mind while he fished the boys free from the water — and of course Sokka had won.

Hakoda paused, letting that sink in, and he nodded his head once. “So you can imagine my shock when, after I pulled both boys out, Zuko got to his feet. Naturally, he was very cold, but lucid. And he was in a panic. When I told him to go make a fire to help warm up Sokka — he bent one instead.”

A single gasp went up from around the villagers, along with an angry buzz. Hakoda held up his hand for silence. It took a few moments before he got it.

“Yes,” he drawled in such a dry fashion that he got a few chuckles. “Needless to say, when Sokka was as warm as I could get him, and I recovered my wits I interrogated the child. He did not know until then what he was capable of — I saw the truth myself in his eyes.”

Despite Hakoda’s warning to let him speak, Bato turned to him. “But Sokka… he will be fine?” The worry in his face, and eyes were clear. Bato loved Sokka as if he was his own, just as Hakoda had loved Bato’s two daughters, and had grieved as much as any father when they were killed in last spring’s Fire Nation raid.

Hakoda nodded, allowing a small smile to cross his face. “Yes. Zuko used his bending to keep him warm on the journey back. Healer Kuthruk believes it is because of that and how promptly he was put by a fire after leaving the water, that he will make a full recovery.” Now he raised his chin, his authoritative voice echoing down from one end of the meeting room to the other. “Sokka will grow up stronger, and wiser because of this. He will survive to lead the new generation in large part due to actions of a young firebender. Now we must decide, as a people, what to do.”

There was a moment of silence, and then several people spoke up at once — some angry, some confused.

It begins, Hakoda thought. Hopefully, he had stated Zuko’s case well enough.

Tatum was the first to stand. He was a burley, lug of a man with thick eyebrows. He was also one of the tribe’s most seasoned warriors. Hakoda acknowledged him with a nod, letting him speak freely.

“Brothers, and sisters; the choice is clear. While I am grateful to hear the Fire Nation boy helped saved young Sokka, it was merely a debt repaid. Chief Hakoda was the one to originally spare Zuko. He now owes this tribe nothing, and we require nothing of him.” There were several nods from around, and cheered by this, Tatum continued, “The boy must go to the Earth Kingdom. I’ve heard talk from Auya about sending him to Kyoshi Island. Let’s send him there.”

Bato stood up, bristling, and barely waited for Hakoda’s nod to rebuke. “It would be hard to get anyone to accept a Fire Nation boy on their doorstep, but a firebender? No. They would put him down like a dog.”

“And he cannot go back to the Fire Nation.” Tatum replied. “I will not stand by while another firebender is added to their ranks.”

Now there were more nods, and a woman, her face half hidden in the shadows called out. “Look what those Fire Nation savages already done to the boy! I can’t hardly look at his face without thinking about it. He was abused over there. We can’t send him back!”

Hakoda’s plan was to be silent and have his people talk this out, for he had faith that they were good and that they would come to the right decision in the end. But at this, he had to speak; not as Sokka’s father this time, but as Chief. “Even if I thought that it would be best for the boy to go back to his own people — and I don’t — I could never risk a ship full of my men in enemy waters just to drop off a child.”

“He can’t stay here!” Another woman shot back, and Hakoda recognized the voice of Auya. Instantly, he was dismayed. He had counted on the woman to be on Zuko’s side, since she was the one charged with housing him.

People started shouting, voicing their own opinions and Hakoda had to hold up his hand for silence.

Bato indicated that he wanted to speak again.

“I’ve watched the boy, and talked with him a few times. He follows the men around like a puppy, and imitates us. I have no doubt in my mind that he would wish to be Water Tribe, if he was given a chance.”

“It just wouldn’t be natural for the boy,” said Auya, standing. “His best chance is to go to the Earth Kingdom. Perhaps he could hide his abilities—”

Healer Kuthruk spoke up, cutting off her words. “As far as I’ve been told, bending is something from the Spirit, and not a physical power. Zuko could probably no more hide what he is than he can hide his eye color.”

Ekchua, the man who had served as cook on the ship, grunted from the back. “He might be useful to us as a warrior when he grows up — fight fire with fire, eh?”

There was more murmuring to this, and Hakoda was glad that it was more in approval then of anger. He saw his chance, and took it. “Bato, would you want to be responsible for the boy, then? He is young, yet. He could be molded into our ways.”

Bato stared at him for a moment, and then a flash of grief passed over his face, and Hakoda knew the answer before he spoke it. “No. I can’t… Hakoda, it’s too soon since my daughters…” he broke off, looking away and Hakoda placed a hand on his shoulder. His friend didn’t need to say any more.

There was a shuffling movement, and Kana stepped into the flickering firelight. Hakoda gestured for her to speak, intensely curious.

“Many of you know that I spent my childhood in our sister tribe up North.” Kana said, and although her voice was soft, the quiet reverence of the tribe allowed her words to carry to every ear. Even Hakoda leaned forward, for he had only heard her talk of North a handful of times in his life. “When I was young, there was a Fire Nation raid on our city. Many men were killed on both sides, but we held them off, and at the end three prisoners were brought up to the Chief; a Fire Navy Captain and two of his Lieutenants — all firebenders. They were kept alive, and put down in the cells. It was thought we could use them for prisoner exchange since the Fire Nation had captured some of our waterbenders.”

She paused then, hands folded within her fur-lined robes, head bowed. Hakoda wondered what was flashing behind her eyes — and what horrors she had witnessed as a girl. Was this the reason why she came down South? “I was friends at the time with a celebrated healer, Yagoda.” Kana continued, “She was charged with keeping the men fed and healthy. We were of the same age, and as she was afraid of them, I would often accompany her.” She paused, deep in thought, “They were… cruel men with tempers fit to burn… Looking back now, I don’t see our Zuko in any of these men.” A couple smiles went around, mostly from the women, but now Kana’s deeply lined face was blank. She was not in the roundhouse… her mind was back in another time. “They abused us with insults at every chance, because we were young and because they could. But they were healthy, and strong… then the winter came.” Again she paused. “Our Northern sister tribe live at a higher latitude, so they suffer four months of darkness to our three. As soon as the days of darkness started, the Captain and his two Lieutenants lost their firebending ability. Then, slowly, they became weaker. Yagoda did everything that she could for them… she was so very kind in the face of their contempt. But they wilted like flowers without the sun, and by the second month they were dead.”

She finished speaking, and a certain stillness entered the room, as if all the air had gone out of it.

Hakoda felt his stomach clench. He had no doubt that Kana’s words were true, for they had the weight of truth behind them. She hardly ever spoke of the North Pole. Automatically, he looked across the room to Kuthruk. “Have you heard sort of thing before?”

“I know that extreme cold can reduce the capabilities of firebenders.” Kuthruk said, after a moment. “We’ve used it to our advantage before, if my memory serves. But it seems more likely that the men Kana remembers caught some disease which they had no resistance against.”

Kana shook her head slowly, regretfully. “Yagoda was certain. She said there was no physical reason for it. It was almost as if the Spirits themselves had stepped in and seeped their life away.”

All was silent for another moment as everyone digested this news. The Tribe had been on the edge of decision, but now Hakoda could feel the moment slip away. The final door had closed, leaving Zuko with no options at all.

Again, Tatum stood to speak. “So the boy cannot go to the Earth Kingdoms, and we will not send him back to the Fire Nation. Who’s left? The Air Nomads? Well, it’s a hundred years too late for that.”

His words seemed almost unnecessarily cruel in the face of what they had just heard, and there was an awkward silence afterwards. Some people shifted uneasily in their seats.

Auya spoke again. “It isn’t fair, but it is his people who are to blame for this. Not us.”

Hakoda let out a long breath. He was impatient to speak, although he had promised himself that he wouldn’t. The Tribe may see him to close to this, because of Sokka, and Zuko needed an unbiased champion.

Bato cast him a long look out of the corner of his eye, and then stood. They had been friends since they were around Sokka’s age, and the other man could read him like a book. Predictably, when he spoke it was almost exactly what Hakoda himself would have said.

“So it comes to this, brothers and sisters: The boy will die. Either at the hand of his own people, or by an angry Earth Kingdom mob, or by some sort of spiritual defect. He will die. So the question is; which would be the least cruel? Kana,” and he turned, bowing his head respectfully at the woman who had always been like a mother to him. “Do you think that those Fire Nation men suffered?”

Kana closed her eyes. “Some,” she said, after a moment, “but not physically. It was their pride in becoming weak that hurt them the most.”

Bato nodded, “As I’m sure it would hurt any warrior.”

“I’m still not convinced that their death wasn’t caused by some sort of disease, or strange suicide pact.” added Kuthruk, from his seat.

Tatum stood with a sneer. “Perhaps then we should consult the Spirits, and let them decide if we cannot make up our minds about it.”

His words were clearly meant as sarcasm, but a ripple of agreement went though the Tribe.

“As us,” Bato corrected. “This winter could be… a sort of a test.” He stroked his chin and turned to Hakoda. “And if he dies… would it not be more humane for him to be surrounded by those who have cared for him?”

Hakoda privately thought that it was more than just a little harsh to test the boy with his very life. Something inside of him recoiled at thinking of Zuko wasting away from lack of sun. But he was also a realist, and nothing said in this gathering wasn’t true. The Earth Kingdom had suffered through a hundred years of firebender attacks, and they wouldn’t grant Zuko an easy death. No one wanted to think of what the Fire Nation would do.

And there was always the chance that Kana was wrong.

“If he survives the winter, he will be Water Tribe.” He said, and his voice carried with it the weight of an order. He looked around and saw acceptance on the faces of his people — and felt a flash of pride. They had all lost so much to the Fire Nation, yet they were willing to accept one of their children as one of their own.

There was still one matter to clear up, though.

“Auya,” Hakoda commanded, and the woman stood again. “No one will think worse of you for your words, so please answer truthfully; these might be Zuko’s last days. Do you think you could care for him as if he were your son?”

The woman had started to shake her head almost as soon the last word had left her mouth. “No, Hakoda.” She said, looking down at the ground. “I know he’s just a child… but every time I look at him I can only think of my sister, Ahnah, and how the Fire Nation…” she closed her lips over her next words and shook her head again, taking her seat.

Ekchua, the cook stood up. “It’s gotta be you, Chief.” He grunted, “You have the only other bender in your family, and I’ve seen how he respects you.” A round of pleased mutters followed his words.

Hakoda was taken aback. He hadn’t expected this. In actuality, he had thought that Zuko would go to Auya… but that was now out of the question. If he was going to be Water Tribe, he would need someone strong to lead him. He was young enough to mold to their ways, but he would still need kind direction. Hakoda wondered briefly if his beloved Kya was somehow watching this from the Spirit World, and laughing. She always told him that destiny had a twisting path all its own. Now in one turbulent year he had lost a wife, and gained another son.

Hakoda bowed his head in acceptance.

OoOoOoO

Zuko slept in usually late the next morning, well past the rising sun. When he awoke, Auya’s tent was empty; she and her baby had gone to their daily chores without bothering to wake him first, although she had set aside some bread, a little seal-goat cheese, and a small flask of water for his breakfast.

Mindful of Hakoda’s orders last night, Zuko ate in the tent and then only went as far out to peek out the fur-flap entrance.

Auya’s tent was set near the boarder of the village, and through the morning fog he could see vague adult shapes converging on the Tribe’s roundhouse. Zuko heard the low deep boom of a drum from that direction, and soon all of the adults had gone inside. Usually meetings were held at night, after dinner. He had never seen one held in the morning like this, and it made his insides twist with worry.

How he wished he was able to just find the stupid spark-rocks instead of having to set that log on fire! But then Hakoda might not have ordered him to keep Sokka warm like he did, and Zuko may not have thought of it himself…

… he hoped Sokka was okay.

An hour’s time found Zuko sitting just outside the tent, scrapping snow into small sloppy piles for lack of anything else to do. The meeting was still going on, and although he could occasionally hear raised voices he couldn’t quite catch the words. He dared not sneak closer, either. This was as far as he thought he could go, while still obeying Hakoda’s command to stay in the tent.

Zuko heard a crunch of footfalls against icy snow and looked up to see Katara standing about ten feet away from him. One look at her face, and he knew that she knew. She was back to being afraid of him, and now maybe she had a good reason. Only this time Zuko had his voice, and although he didn’t realize it, the few months of friendship and relative kindness from the tribe had done much for his confidence.

“Quit staring at me like that,” he ordered, “I’m not going to burn you.”

“How come you never told me?”

Of all the questions he thought she would ask, that wasn’t one of them. He looked away from her, and moodily added a handful of snow to the top of his pile. “I didn’t know… I just remembered.”

He glanced up, wondering if she would believe him, or accuse him of lying. Her hands were on her hips, much like he had seen Kana do when she was feeling stern. “You remembered?” she repeated. Maybe it was his imagination, but he thought he saw her face soften, just a little. “You mean, you got your memory back?”

“No, just one thing.” He flashed to that red bedroom and that horrible girl, and he shivered. “I don’t want to talk about it. How’s Sokka?”

“He’s sleeping. He’s the one who told me what happened, after he stuffed his face full of food.” Katara rolled her eyes, and dropped her hands from her hips. Then she hesitated, just for a moment longer, before stomping over and deliberately sitting down next to him. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“Good.” This was said harshly, to cover up the wave of pure golden relief that washed through him. He didn’t look at her, not directly. It was easier to pretend to be mad at Katara… just in case she was still secretly mad at him. Like a preemptive strike.

“In fact,” Katara continued, wholly oblivious to Zuko’s plan. After all, she had one of her own. “Now that you’re a bender, you can teach me.”

Zuko shook his head and grabbed yet another handful of snow, adding it to his growing pile. “Don’t be stupid.” The look she gave him then was so full of contempt that he again flashed to the girl in his memory. Quickly, he added, “Okay, look… Even if I got all my memories back; fire and water are opposites anyway. There’s no point.”

“But there’s no one else in the whole South Pole to teach me!”

“Katara—”

But she was more determined than he. After all, she had been waiting her whole life to see someone bend, and she wasn’t going to let a little thing like opposite elements stop her. “C’mon, I’ll show you.” She tugged him, still protesting, back in Auya’s tent.

It was warmer inside, but the wash bucket in the corner still had a film of ice across the top. This she broke and dipped her hand in, lifting some in her hand. The water held still for her, a near perfect globe in the cup of her hand. “Here, can you do this?”

“What? With water?”

“No,” and she gestured impatiently to the low coals smoldering in the tent’s small fire-pit.

He did a double-take, and then shook his head, actually scooting himself away from the fire-pit. “Are you crazy?! I can’t do that!”

“Yes you can.” She held out the water-globe to him almost as an example. “It’s your element. It will do what you tell it to do.”

He looked from her hand to the softly glowing coals and back again. She was staring at him, with her hand still held out, such a plaintive look on her face that it almost hurt to have to say no. “What if I become evil?” he said, and it came out as a whisper, because he didn’t really want to say it, and he didn’t want anyone else to accidentally hear his fears. “What if I… I become as bad as all of the rest of the Fire Nation, and I just want to burn everything down?”

Katara’s face fell, and she got that sad, pained look on her face she always got when she was thinking about her mother. Then she shook her head. “You won’t.” Her free mittened hand reached out for his, curling about his fingers in a reassuring squeeze. “I know you, Zuko. You’re not like the evil firebenders. You’ve been with us for too long, and you saved Sokka’s life.”

“But… what if—”

“You don’t know how it is, ‘cause you just learned that you could, but it hurts not bend. It’s like… not being able to see color. You can teach me what you know, and I can teach you what you know… and… and we’ll learn together. And if you slip and start burning people and stuff… well, I’ll be there too to put it out.” The water rippled in her hand, as if emphasizing her words.

Zuko would have never, ever done it if he didn’t see some sort of point in her words. He had to admit, though, that he did. He felt a sort of longing to try and bend again. All morning he had been avoiding looking at the fire-pit, because he felt that in a small way the heat drew him in. Now that he dared to look he saw that the embers were glowing a sort of sickly orange, and it disturbed him in a vague sort of way. Like coming across an animal which was slowly dying from lack of air. He felt sympathy for the dying fire.

Finally he nodded and carefully crawled forward, kneeling in front of the coals. There was every real chance he could get badly burned. “I can’t just stick my hand in there,” he said, feeling the weight of her gaze on him. Katara was beside him, water still in hand, watching his every move very closely. “I’ll get burned. Give me a minute.”

He closed his eyes, knowing somehow instinctively that he had to be calmer than he was right now. He could feel the heat of the close burning coals tighten his skin, and it was almost a welcoming sensation, but he ignored it. Instead he focused on breathing; in and out. In and out. Katara was right there with her water in case things got bad… she was right there…

“Zuko…”

His light gold eyes snapped open to Katara’s alarmed hiss. The coals were brighter now, and Zuko got the impression that they were breathing with him. He raised his hand, hesitated one more moment, and then shoved it in. It was hot, but he was quick enough so that it didn’t burn and when he snapped his arm back he had a little dancing flame in the cup of his hand. “Wow!”

“See!” Katara made a move as if to hug him, but at the last moment remembered he was holding fire, and just settled for grinning. She had been waiting her whole life — all eight years of it — to talk about bending with another person, and it didn’t matter at all if that person bent fire. “Do you feel a sort of… pushing and pulling with your fire?”

He frowned, and he looked at the fire in his hand thoughtfully. “No. It’s more like… it’s…” he trailed off.

“What?” she pressed.

“It feels like a little heartbeat. It’s almost alive.”

Now it was Katara’s turn to frown and look to her own element. She had never felt that way about water. It moved in ebbs and flows. Fire, she thought, must be very different. Carefully, she tugged the mitten over her free hand with her teeth reached out, holding her hand over Zuko’s flame as close as she could without getting burned. She could feel it flickering in tiny waves, something almost the same as her own water… but very different at the same time.

Zuko did the same, covering his free hand over her globe of water.

“I think I feel what you’re talking about.” Katara said.

“I think… maybe I do, too.”

The fur-lined tent flap opened, startling Zuko and Katara out of the reverie. Seeing who it was, Zuko snatched his hand back from the globe of water, and closed his fist; guiltily snuffing out the small flame. It was too late. Sokka had seen everything.

“What are you doing out of bed?” Katara’s concern was only for her big brother, and she leapt up, pulling him inside. He was wearing his thickest parka and blue leggings, but there was still a sickly sort of grey color about his skin. Katara sat him down by the coals, and deftly grabbed one of Auya’s best furs, throwing it about his shoulders. “Healer Kuthruk said you were to stay inside.”

“I’d rather die of pneumonia than boredom.” snapped Sokka, although his blue gaze never left Zuko’s face. “What were you two doing?”

“Bending.” Katara’s tone was nothing short of glib as she tucked the edges of the furs about Sokka’s body. She was always happiest when bossing someone around, or trying to mother them.

Sokka’s face darkened, and Zuko looked away guiltily. He knew what had happened to Sokka and Katara’s mother, and if Katara was going to pretend it didn’t matter, it was only because she was so excited to have another bender around. Sokka was a different story.

Sure enough, when Sokka spoke his voice was full of venom. “I can’t believe you two are just sitting around, wasting time like this,” He said, then pointed outside. “Dad’s in the roundhouse, telling the tribe now what you are, Zuko. I heard him and Kuthruk talking about it when they thought I was asleep. They’re probably going to send you away, and you two are just sitting around playing with your magic?”

Katara gasped and murmured “No…” but Zuko knew that he was telling the truth. He wasn’t going to say he was sorry, because he wasn’t, really, but he felt a flash of shame flush his unscarred cheek.

No one said anything more for a few pained moments. Finally Sokka let out a long breath and scratched the back of his neck. “And… I guess you saved my life back there. Sothanks.” This was said very quickly, followed by a hastily held out hand. Zuko gripped his arm, Water Tribe style, and noticed that he still felt cold to the touch, but he dared not warm him or increase the flame on the nearby coals.

“But…” Katara’s eyes darted from one boy to another, “Who will teach me about bending if they send him away?”

“Is that all you care about?” Zuko demanded, turning to her.

“I don’t!” she snapped, although her gaze darted guilty away. “But I just thought… you have a plan, don’t you, Sokka?” Katara turned to her brother, hopeful.

The Water Tribe boy seemed to sink down in the folds of the thick blankets. Zuko had never seen him look so tired. It must have taken almost all his effort to just walk over to the tent. “No,” he admitted, at last with a swipe of his hand across his nose. He looked like he was getting the sniffles. “I just wanted to say goodbye before they send him back to the Fire Nation and turn him against us.”

Zuko’s mouth felt dry. “I wouldn’t ever—”

“You won’t have a choice. They took away your memories once, right?”

Sokka had a point, and Zuko felt a sense of horror rise up with himself. It was too easy to imagine himself, in those blood-red uniforms, bearing down on the South Pole in one of those iron-ships… “No. I’ll— I’ll fight them. I’ll run away,” he said, clenching his fists. “and I’ll join the Earth Kingdom and…” he thought again of that golden-eyed girl in his memories, and he closed his eyes. “It was horrible over there. I remembered something, when I was in the water. I’m never going back.”

“Of course it’s horrible over there,” Sokka said, pragmatically, “Why do you think the Fire Nation is trying to conquer everyone else?”

But Katara had once again gripped Zuko’s hand into her own. “What do you remember?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I still want to know. Please?”

Zuko opened his eyes and saw that her face was sincere. Even Sokka seemed mildly interested, although he looked like he was pretending not to be. So he started speaking, telling them of his fragmented memory. Of the large bedroom, and of the girl with her hateful words which he could not understand today, but which had filled him with such terror before.

Sokka stopped him at points, and asked him to elaborate on certain details. Zuko did as he was told, and to his surprise with a little prompting he remembered things that he had half forgotten before. There had been a dagger laying on his bed stand, the hilt inlaid with some sort of pearl design. The rich russet hangings around his bed were ornamented with the Fire Nation insignia. Although try as he might, he couldn’t figure out one word that the girl had been speaking.

Finally there was noting more to tell. Zuko felt strained and worn, having to remember the unpleasant memory all of that all over again, although he felt anxious what Sokka thought of it. The other boy was thoughtful in ways that he knew he could never be.

But Sokka was also tired, and he sat huddled in his blankets, cold and miserable. “I don’t know.” He said, at last, “It’s weird to think of a bedroom that large. Maybe your dad was a Chief of his village, although… if he was he would have been looking for you…” he trailed off and sighed, his head bobbing in exhaustion.

Katara shot Zuko a meaningful look, and then went over to her brother. “I’ll take you back to our tent. Auya will yell at us if she catches you sleeping in here. Come on.”

She and Zuko hauled him to his feet, although Zuko could only help him to the door of the tent, remembering that he had been told to stay inside. “I’ll be back,” Katara promised, meeting his eyes again.

Then the two siblings were gone, and Zuko was stuck alone in the tent with nothing but a cold fire, and an unpleasant memory to keep him company. He stuck his head out of the tent, and reluctantly looked to the roundhouse.

What was taking the adults so long?

OoOoOoO

The meeting adjourned soon after. Once the decision was made, the Tribe as a whole was eager catch up with the day’s chores, and hunting and gathering. A whole morning had been wasted, and winter’s darkness would be upon them soon enough.

Only Hakoda stayed back, and with a nod to Bato to let him know he would be joining him later, he headed back to the main village to check on Sokka. This morning, Kuthruk had judged his health to be good enough to be moved back from the healer’s tent to his own. It was a short walk, but Hakoda’s mind was heavy with decision, and he ended up taking the long way —around the perimeter of the village.

He pushed back the fur-flap door and found Sokka curled up asleep under a thick pile of blankets, Katara by his side.

His daughter looked up. “Dad… you told everyone that Zuko had to stay, right?” she whispered. “He saved Sokka’s life. You can’t send him away.”

Hakoda favored her with a small smile, but didn’t answer her directly. “Go on outside and play, Katara. I need to speak with your brother.”

She hesitated, nearly wiggling with curiosity, but she had been raised to mind her elders at all times and with a sullen nod, took herself outside.

Sokka seemed to be asleep, but he woke easily enough when Hakoda came to sit down beside him. He had eaten heartedly several hours before, much like Kuthruk had said, and had seemed to be in his usual high spirits this morning. Now he seemed to be tired again, but his eyes were clear and he watched his father with a clear, intelligent gaze. Clearly, he was expecting bad news.

Hakoda had picked his words very carefully. The boy had just lost his mother to a firebender attack this spring, after all. The best way would be to talk to Sokka in a clear, concise way. “Everyone thought that Zuko showed himself honorably in saving your life. He will stay with the tribe, and since our family has the only other bender he will stay with me as my son.”

Sokka jerked back in surprise, and then grinned. “Really?!”

“Yes, although I know it won’t be easy. We’ve been a small family now for some time and it may take some patience and understanding to make sure everyone finds their place.”

“I think its right,” Sokka said, after a long moment. Some of the jubilation and relief was fading, and now Sokka was thinking again. “But… I still get to be the elder brother, right Dad? I mean,” he set himself up more fully in the bed, trying to make his point. “Zuko doesn’t know anything. Like how to look for rock fish, or what season is best to hunt seal, and he still can never hit anything with a boomerang. I do, and I could teach him.”

His son would make a great and wise Chief one day. Hakoda smiled and clapped his hand on his shoulder. He too, had thought of this, among many other things on his long walk. It was impossible to say how old Zuko was, exactly. The years just before adolescence sometimes made age an ambiguous thing. But where being the older brother was mostly a source of pride for Sokka, Hakoda plans were further reaching. In the coming years, it would mean who had the greater decision on who Katara would be betrothed too, or who would lead the tribe. “Yes, Sokka. You will be the eldest. That’s why I came to you with this, first. You must help guide your brother to our ways. He’s made a good start, but as you said there’s much more to learn.” He paused then, meeting his son’s gaze, and judging him to be old and mature enough to know the rest. “You must help him be strong. Your Gran Gran is wise and knows many things, and she has said firebenders need the sun to live.”

Sokka’s blue eyes widened, and Hakoda could almost see his quick mind make the connections. “But, there’s gonna be no sun at all in the winter, and that’s not to far away!”

“Exactly my point. The elders have decided it will be a test for him and if he lives then the Spirits mean him to be with us. So it’s going to be our job to make sure he’s as strong as he can be.”

“Oh.” He was quiet for a long, long moment. Then, “Do you think he’ll die, Dad? Is that why you sent Katara out?”

Hakoda hesitated at this, but in truth if Sokka was now eldest of two siblings, and he had to know the entire truth. “I think he has a better chance with us then anywhere else. The world won’t be kind to a young firebender.”

The boy sighed and shifted around, plucking a tuft of hair out of the fur blanket. “No, I guess not. They would all think he was just like the rest of them. Not that I mind… it would be kind of neat to have a little brother, even if he is another bender.” He looked up, “How are we going to tell him about the winter?”

And now they had come to the question that had been plaguing Hakoda the most during his walk. “No,” he said, at length. “I don’t think he should be told… not yet.” Sokka opened his mouth, but Hakoda continued. “There’s nothing we can do to change when the sun will or will not shine, and having Zuko worry about it won’t help him at all. Sometimes, Sokka, people are stronger when they don’t know that they need to be.”

Sokka didn’t agree fully with him. Hakoda could see it in his eyes. But he nodded all the same, accepting his wisdom for what it was.

Hakoda rose. “I will make sure Kuthruk stops by to check on you soon. Is there anything you need? Are you warm enough?”

“I am sort of hungry.” Sokka admitted, ruefully.

OoOoOoO

Later that afternoon, Hakoda visited Zuko in Auya’s tent. He could see the boy brace himself for the worst, but there was no whining. The Fire Nation were a savage people, but they bred their boys and men to be tough… Hakoda would give them that. Looking down at Zuko, he couldn’t tell that the boy had nearly drowned the day before. It seemed impossible that he could be so susceptible to a lack of sunlight.

“Zuko,” Hakoda said, matter of factly. This was a matter of fact situation. How he wished that Kya were still here…. This needed a woman’s touch. He probably should have brought Kana along, but it was too late now. “It’s been decided that you are to stay with the tribe, as one of my son’s. Go on and pack your things. You’ll be moving into the family tent.”

The boy seemed not to understand for a moment. He just looked up at him with large, light golden eyes. “You… you mean I’m not going to be banished?”

Banished…? Hakoda knelt down so that he was eyelevel with the child. “No Zuko. I think you will make a fine Water Tribe warrior one day. Would you like to stay with us, as a family?”

“More than anything!”

“Good boy. I’ll help you pack your things.”

He didn’t have much, and shortly thereafter Hakoda led him to the tent. Katara squealed upon seeing the boy — Hakoda assumed that Sokka had just told her the news — and he watched in amusement as she threw her arms around Zuko, embarrassing the boy horribly.

Kana set to work pressing Katara, Zuko and Sokka into cutting up sea-prunes for the night’s soup. Soon the air in their small dwelling was filled with the smells of cooking, and children’s high pitched talking and laughter.

Hakoda sat by the fire, watching the scene, and allowed himself a smile. This tent had been empty, and too quiet since Kya had died. Now, for the first time, it seemed full of life again.

Outside, the short antarctic day was ending — the long night was beginning.

OoOoOoO

Notes: Zuko has a family now! :)

Okay, so while I was writing this (and boredly looking up random Wiki articles at work.) I came across polar night. In season 1 it was supposed to be winter, but Sokka made a reference to ‘Midnight Sun Madness’, and when I rewatched the episode I realized that the sun never set. It might be winter for the northern hemisphere, but in the southern I guess they were in summer. Since they were having Midnight sun, I would assume that polar night would also occur. And because the Water Tribe apparently live at the South Pole I would assume at least some of this would be astronomical polar night — where no trace of light is at the horizon during any point in the day. (Again, all of this researched at work. I am the worst employee ever.)

Now, we know that firebenders lose their ability during eclipses and gain more of it with a comet. Waterbenders also lost their ability when the Moon Spirit was killed. I also think that the earthbenders in the out-to-sea jail were stricken with more than normal despair when they were separated from their element. If I really stretch, it’s almost like the earthbenders only got some of their hope back once they were presented back with their element. Katara’s inspirational speeches didn’t help. The coal did. Of course, they did had metal — which none of them realized is possible to bend. So they didn’t fade away completely.

Anyway those are my thoughts, and why I turned the plot in the direction that I did. Whee!

Thanks for reading! Your thoughts are appreciated!

Next up: The long, hard winter.

Next Chapter: TBC

Current Mood: accomplished

Tags:

Navigation

Page Summary

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags