Healing Waters

Competition: Pro-Bending Circuit Submission for Round 1

Word Count: 2,158

Prompts Used:

(character) Hakoda (quote) "If you love somebody, let them go, for if they return, they were always yours. And if they don't, they never were" - Khalil Gibran (dialogue) "It can't be… It's been so long..."

Bonus: Include the element Water in your story.

Sokka sighed for what felt like the millionth time that day. Obviously, there was no conceivable way for him to have sighed that often in the few hours he had been cognizant for, but he could have easily accumulated that many if one were to take into account the past two years' worth. Regardless, he couldn't just lie in bed all day, as he had work to do.

Standing up from his bed and stretching his arms high above his head, feeling the little pops all throughout his body as his bones cracked, he sucked in a large breath of fresh, South Pole air. It felt hollow, despite being cool and crisp beyond compare. Then again, most of life's many grand and wondrous activities were feeling stale and lifeless to Sokka. Such was life, sadly enough.

The fact that he had been awake for a couple of hours that he had spent just lying in bed was not lost on him, but he was just completely apathetic to that fact. 'It's not like there's any real reason for me to be up,' he mused internally. The day was a holiday, anyway, so his usual routine of supervising the visiting Waterbenders from the North in the construction of the South Pole's capitol was unnecessary. Unfortunately, it wasn't a holiday that carried the same cheer and hope as the anniversary of Sozin's Comet, where the Firelord had fallen and been imprisoned. No, that would have seen the entire city alight with life, color, culture, and a spectacular display from all Benders present. That day, that dreaded, maligned day held a much more somber air about it.

The Death of the Avatar.

This fact alone would have made Sokka distraught enough every time it rolled around; Aang was a dear friend of his after all. However the day also held the memory of another departed member of the Gaang, this one much, much closer to home. Katara.

No-one knew any true details regarding their disappearance, but the safest assumption was that they had departed this plane of existence. Apparently, Appa had been found adrift somewhere in the ocean by a passing Fire Navy ship, dead. The clear signs of a struggle were littered across his corpse, and the way he curled his legs close to his stomach suggested that he had been trying to protect someone, most likely Aang and Katara. But there was no trace of either of them anywhere. Search parties had been sent out from all four of the Nations, but all attempts to find the Avatar and his significant other proved to be in vain.

Three years had passed since that accursed day, and only a select few still held out hope. Their fortitude was based solely on the fact that in the years since Avatar Aang was stated to have died, the successor to the Avatar Cycle had not been found. Some subscribed to this faith, blindly wishing for their savior to one day return to them, while others were dismissive of the entire notion that Aang could have possibly survived. Sokka truly wanted to believe that Aang and his sister were still out there somewhere; just biding their time until making a grand entrance and declaring their years that they had been absent for just a protracted vacation; their deaths just a cruel hoax borne from the mind of the incurable prankster the world called 'Aang'.

He just couldn't, though. No matter how much he wanted to believe that Katara would return and bring his family back together in sheer happiness, he simply could not rationalize it to himself. Sokka was a man that dealt with facts, logic, and reason above all else, and all evidence pointed to her being… 'Dead.' Even still, he could barely manage to vocalize this view, even within the privacy and safety of his own thoughts. Shaking his head, he resolved to put some clothes on and adopt a face far braver than he had been since the news had been broken to him. He knew that he had taken the news of her passing far worse than either Hakoda or Gran Gran. He was the one who sat in his room all day in a quagmire of misery while Hakoda gave his best effort to restore the morale of all the disheartened citizens who were succumbing to a grief that would only lead to more tragedy had they not been snapped out of it, putting aside his own catastrophic pain at the death of his daughter. He was assisted by Gran Gran and Pakku in this task, and they were able to get the community back on their feet. Sokka didn't know how any of the other members of the group were faring over the news. All contact with the Earth Kingdom and the Fire Nation had ceased reaching them, which was not helped by their remote location, and he hadn't seen Toph or Zuko in some time before the news hit, so the lack of communication hadn't been as big of a surprise as he would have preferred it to be.

As he pulled his coat over his shoulders, he drew a breath to brace himself for the day ahead, which loomed dauntingly over his head; a shadow that enveloped him completely in its embrace. Thankfully, the igloos the village had once called home had given way to actual houses with rooms and all, though they were still a very close-knit, group activity-oriented sort of people. Stepping through the large, tiger seal skin covering that served as a makeshift door, he entered the dining area to discover his father. Hakoda's eyes were bloodshot, and had readily apparent bags under them. He looked up as he heard Sokka's boots hitting the ground with all the grace of a one-legged platypus bear.

"Good morning." His usually smooth, calming baritone was rough and uneven, further proving that he hadn't slept the night before.

"Morning, Dad." Sokka replied, his voice lacking its usual jovial edge. It had been so long since his voice had carried it.

They remained in their positions for a time: Sokka standing and Hakoda seated at a table, staring awkwardly at the floor as the silence crescendoed to a near deafening volume. 'Fine. Might as well try to spare him this agony.' Sokka thought as he wracked his brain for the most enthralling topic of conversation he could uncover.

"How are you doing?" he asked, cursing himself for having nothing better to inquire into.

"I'm doing fine, son. How about you?"

"I feel fantastic." The sarcasm there was bitter and callous, much unlike what had spewed from his mouth in earlier years. Taking stock of how his father's face fell, Sokka felt instant guilt for speaking so thoughtlessly. "I'm sorry, Dad. I… I didn't mean that. It's just… You know…" He was dancing around the issue as if it were a fire licking at his heels.

Hakoda let out a sigh as his eyes closed. "Yes, Sokka, I know." Another period of silence stretched between the two, as there was really no way for them to segue into anything. Before the tragedy had transpired, their rapport with each other had been something that would make fathers and sons envious of them. Hours could pass while they traded comments on the most inane of topics. Now the very notion of having a conversation that lasted for longer than a few brief sentences stymied the both of them completely and utterly.

"Sokka?" The questioned party raised his head in acknowledgement. "Seeing as it's a holiday and all, would you like to go catch some fresh air together; just the two of us?"

Scrutinizing his father's expression, Sokka noticed that there was a very hopeful glimmer in his eyes, and knew that declining the offer would only serve to crush Hakoda further.

"Sure."

The center of the city was practically silent. While there was the typical hubbub that one would expect from the citizens out shopping and surveying the stores, there was a distinct lack of the usual cheer that usually permeated the area in an almost obnoxious way. The street performers were Waterbending to practically no audience whatsoever. Sokka just looked away from them, not caring at all about it. Ever since Katara's disappearance, the subtle beauty and grace of Waterbending had vanished for him. Try as he might, he could not see it through the same, slightly envious eyes that he once did.

Turning his attention back to his father, Sokka noticed that Hakoda was leading them out of the city and into the ice drifts. 'I guess he's gone completely suicidal,' Sokka inwardly snarked, though he kept following without asking any questions. Within a few minutes, they were out in the wild, only armed with the coats on their backs and their wits. Stepping to his father's right side, Sokka began to walk in adjacent tandem with Hakoda. Soon after, Hakoda decided to make an effort to break the ice.

"I know you're thinking about them."

Sokka nearly stopped dead in his tracks. Had his father really been that blunt? Was he hearing things?

"I… Of course I am." His voice was hesitant.

"Do you wish that I had forbade her from going off with him?"

"No… Actually, I think a quote that Aang told me applies here. He said 'If you love somebody, let them go, for if they return, they were always yours. And if they don't, they never were.' Granted, I think that refers more to romantic love, but it applies here nonetheless."

"So, you think that I showed that I really loved her by not getting in the way of what she wanted to do?" Hakoda had a visage that resembled how he used to look at his son's surprising depth of thought and character.

"Yeah, I'd say that fits."

The reticence that they fell into then was much more amiable than any of the previous periods. The fact that their postures were less hunched than they were prior served as physical proof that a large, figurative weight had been cast from their shoulders.

Some ways later, it was Sokka's turn to pierce the noiselessness with a spear of dialogue. "I… I wish I'd been able to tell her how much I admired her."

Hakoda looked over at him and made a noiseless gesture for him to proceed.

"She was always full of life; always wanting to help others. She saw it as her duty to help Aang do his Spirits appointed job. I've never known anyone who was even a fraction as selfless as Katara was. I mean, I always bugged her, called her a nag, and I was pretty fast and loose with the sarcasm, but I only did it because I loved her. She was just the best"

It was clear at that point: the barrier between the two had suffered its first major breach. Naturally, it would take more time to mend the wounds that had been inflicted by such a long emotional separation, and they were only just now working through the pain, but the healing waters were starting to wash over them, and eventually everything would work out.

As they strolled back into town, Sokka was quick to notice a massive throng of people gathered in the center of town. The comparative noise level between how it was when they departed and how it was at the moment was staggering to say the least. Through the many cacophonous shouts, one rang out, leaving Sokka dumbstruck.

"SHE'S ALIVE!"

In an instant, Hakoda was shoving the crowd aside in his urgency to confirm that the shouts yielded accurate information. In the center of it all was the person he had thought to be gone forever.

Katara.

She was wearing some foreign garb (Fire Nation, based on the reds dominating the color scheme), and her hair was much shorter than its previous waist-reaching length, now reaching the middle of her neck. But it was still her face, still her bright blue eyes which he still remembered as his mother's, and her earsplitting grin as she rushed to hug him. As she embraced her brother for the first time in years, he could only offer one utterance.

"It can't be… It's been so long..."

She responded by clasping him tighter, never letting go for even a moment. Eventually, though, she did relinquish her grasp and looked up at him, almost opening her mouth to speak, but she decided not to at the very last second. There was no need for words; those could come later. Now, they could watch the impromptu celebration that the Waterbenders put on for them. 'It's beautiful,' Sokka thought as Hakoda came up behind them, looping his arms around the two of them as they returned the favor. The healing waters had burst through the emotional dam, and were eager to make up for lost time.

This is rough, but I essentially wrote it in a few hours, so this is the best I can do all things considered. Now, don't think that means that I don't want you to be harsh with any Reviews you might wanna post, because I welcome any and all criticisms. Feel free to let me know if you enjoyed it too, I guess...

Read, review, and I'll see ya next time

-TheNotSoTalentedPoet