Disclaimer: I don't own the fabulous Avatar, The Last Airbender. *sighs regretfully* And I'm making no money off this story. *sighs louder*
A/N: Originally completed 06/?/12. Horizontal bars indicate timeline change or scene change. A nod to another one of my stories, "Sokka's Surprise." Read 'n' review, please! Which of the two stories do you like better?
Hakoda's Surprise
Families in the Southern Water Tribe were all basically the same. At the end of the day, parents tired from a long day's work would approach bedtime quietly, often gratefully. Children, in contrast, were often wide awake and eager for as much frolic as their parents would allow them before bedtime. And the family in Hakoda's igloo was no exception.
Katara gave a shout of triumph as she wrested an icicle from her brother's hands. She dashed around the one-room hut, squealing as she danced just out of range of Sokka, who was determined to recapture his prize. Sitting next to the fire, Hakoda watched them fondly while sharpening his spearhead.
"Those two never run out of energy," Kya murmured to him, shaking her head as she gathered up the supper bowls. "Can you put them to bed tonight?"
Hakoda nodded and stood up to put his spear on the ledge above the door. As Sokka and Katara ran past him, he stooped down swiftly and picked them up.
"Come on, you two—time for bed."
"But I was about to win the icicle," Sokka complained, still attempting to reach past his father's arm and get at Katara. Hakoda set them down on the sleeping pelts, pried the icicle from his daughter's little hand, and buried it in the loose snow near the door.
"You can finish your game tomorrow," he said firmly. "Right now it's time to go to sleep."
"Tell us a story first," Katara begged, her eyes shining pleadingly.
"All right, one story," Hakoda agreed. He cocked his head to one side and grinned as his boyhood memories came back to him. "Have I ever told you the one about me and Bato and the arctic hippo?"
"This has got to be your craziest idea ever!" yelled eleven-year-old Bato.
Hakoda shot his best friend an exaggerated look of wounded pride. "Crazy? It's genius!" he countered.
"It's insane!" Bato re-countered, throwing up his arms for emphasis. "You just don't lasso an arctic hippo! That's . . . insane!"
"Nope, it's the best plan in the whole South Pole," boasted Hakoda. "And I need your help."
"No way I'm helping you do that!"
"Oh, I get it. You're afraaaaid," Hakoda taunted him.
Bato balled up his fists. "Am not!"
"You think it won't work?" Hakoda continued.
"Of course it'll work, and that's what I'm afraid of."
"So come on, then!" Hakoka put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Bato. I need you. Where would I be without my partner?"
The entreated partner shoved Hakoda's hand away and crossed his arms crossly. But his answer was positive. "Oh, all right." Hakoda punched his fist in the air and laughed. He'd gotten what he wanted—again.
"You'll see, Bato. We're gonna be the bravest hunters this village has ever seen!"
But the two boys didn't inspire the greatest confidence as they sneaked into their canoe. Their nervous glances and wide eyes were a dead giveaway; fortunately they were too far away from the huts to be readily spotted. Bato shoved the little boat from its ice perch into the sea. Hakoda pitched wildly and barely recovered his balance. They grabbed the oars and began paddling feverishly and asynchronously.
It wasn't quite as impressive as when the menfolk put out to sea, but at least it got the job done.
After making straight for open water, the boys found no luck fishing for their prize. Bato groaned, having had enough of sitting and doing nothing. He flopped back against the prow dispiritedly, but then his eyes widened. "Hey! What're we doing here? Hippos don't like deep water!"
"What are you talking about?" Hakoda grumbled, irritable from his lack of success.
"They're seaweed swimmers! They feed along the bottom of shallow waters!"
"No, they don't!" Hakoda contradicted his friend. "They eat deep-water fish!"
"That's seals, not hippos!" Bato yelled back, rolling his eyes. "Look, we're not getting anywhere here, right? So let's try closer to the sandbars!"
"It's not going to work," Hakoda muttered, but he put his oar into the water, and Bato did the same.
They went to one of the favored fishing spots of the village, the sandbar around the starboard cliff. Time crawled once again, and Hakoda was confident in proving his friend wrong.
But then a huge shape swam beneath them. "There it is!" Bato cried. He had completely forgotten his reluctance to join in Hakoda's scheme in the excitement of spotting such a rare creature. As if responding to his call, the animal surfaced and reared its pale head at them. Bato could only gape at it, but Hakoda was ready. He leaned past his accomplice, already whirling the rope in a circle with his arm. When the hippo was in mid-yawn, he let it fly. The loop encircled the creature's upper jaw and landed near its nostrils. Hakoda pulled the line tight. Totally bewildered, the animal let its mouth hang open stupidly while it tossed its head from side to side.
"Nope—think again!" crowed Hakoda. "We've got you now!" He fastened the rope to the canoe.
"Uh, Hakoda, are you sure you should—?" Bato started to ask. Bursting into sudden action, the arctic hippo shot off through the ocean like one of those arrows that Firebenders used. Both boys were thrown into the stern in a heap. For a while, all they could do was scream.
Through a huge effort, Hakoda sat upright. "I wish my aim wasn't so good!" he howled.
"I wish you'd never had this dumb idea in the first place!" Bato yelled back.
Hakoda fished a harpoon from the bottom of the canoe. "Let's kill it and take it back home!"
"Are you crazy?!" Bato screamed at him. "You can't kill an arctic hippo with a harpoon! You need a whole fleet!" When Hakoda scowled and moved to throw it anyway, Bato grabbed the shaft. "Don't! You'd just make him mad!"
"Well, then, what are we supposed to do?!" Hakoda demanded to know. Bato racked his brain.
"We've got daggers, right? Let's cut ourselves loose!" Both boys pushed against the whipping wind to make their way to the front of the canoe. They took their daggers out of their boots.
But it was much easier shouted than done. The hippo wasn't taking them on a smooth trip. The boat veered and tipped wildly every second of the way. Spray and wind made it almost impossible to see. Clinging bravely to the bow and each other, the two of them sawed frantically at the rope.
But they hadn't cut all the way through the line before the beast dived. Shockingly suddenly, they were in the water, and the boat was no longer underneath them. They were choking and gasping for air as the waves slapped them in the face. It was nearly too cold to move or breathe, even for natives like them. Getting to shore was an impossibility if they couldn't somehow retrieve their canoe. No one survived the sea for more than two minutes.
But there was a canoe Hakoda could see with his peripheral vision, and he had never been happier to spy the familiar craft.
"Hakoda! Bato!" rumbled a deep voice that he knew and loved.
"Dad!" he answered back, echoed by Bato. The canoe cut through the seawater and stopped next to them. Two sets of mittened hands reached out and pulled two sopping boys out of the ocean. The men stripped their sons of their soaking garments, and within moments the boys found themselves bundled in their father's heavy coats.
"What on earth were you doing out here?" Bato's father asked as he rubbed Bato's head with a pelt. Hakoda tried to pull a grin, but it came out as a grimace.
"Would you believe . . . fishing?" he attempted to sound light-hearted. His excuse was not well received.
Back on the snowy shore, Hakoda's father took his shoulders and shook him. "Did you not even stop to think about what you were doing?"
"Do you have any idea how dangerous it was?" Bato's father went on, frowning deeply at his son. The boys hung their heads.
"Yes," they mumbled as one. The men began dragging them up the beach.
"Come on," ordered Bato's father grimly. "You know the consequences."
All too well. Hakoda and Bato both gulped but kept trudging along. Their fathers weren't gentle as they herded them onward, but a fond caress found its way to Bato's head. Hakoda felt a warm hand squeeze his shoulder. "What am I going to do with you?" his father said in a low voice.
But Hakoda could hear affection there, too—almost a chuckle.
Having wrapped up his tale, Hakoda looked to see bright-eyed Katara sighing with satisfaction. Sokka had fallen asleep while still leaned against his father's knee. It was probably a good thing he hadn't heard the story's end, Hakoda thought. He didn't want Sokka, who was already prone to mischief and misfortune, getting any ideas. "Come on, water princess," he said to his daughter with a smile, helping her lie back on the pelts. "Time to go to sleep." He lifted his son up. "You, too, my little scamp."
"Mm?" was all Sokka answered, eyes still bleary from sleep. Hakoda placed him next to his sister and tucked furs around them.
Kya sat with her mending still half finished in her lap, watching them with her strong yet gentle gaze. She set her work aside then and began to unfasten her parka. Her slow, meandering lullaby was the only sound to fill the igloo as Hakoda got to his feet and went to blow out the oil lamp.
"Spirits of the water deep,
Hearken to me from afar.
In the realm of deepest sleep,
I may come to where you are.
Something to me, you may teach
Before I fly far away.
Perhaps your wisdom I can reach,
E'er the bright dawning of day."
It was dark when the light went out, and the wind howled around the edges of their little dwelling. But inside, all was warm and safe.
~The End~