Author Note: I thought this would be a really fun story to write, and so far it is. Tell me if I should keep going.
Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender, or the Chronicles of Narnia (also known as One Hundred Years of Winter, which the title is based off)
The sky filled with the not so distant sound of planes, a terrible humming that rang in the ears of those who were awoken at such an ungodly hour.
Enemy planes came in hundreds, dropping bombs on the sleeping city.
And while bright search lights tried to penetrate the nighttime sky, the heavily black clouds hid the enemy and made the hunt fruitless.
They flew over the city, destruction and fear spreading.
War had only just begun.
The fifteen year old stared in wide eyed shock as another house exploded in fire and brick.
That was Sangok's house… three blocks away…
His heart thumped faster as the planes got closer and the humming grew louder.
He laid his head on the cool window pane, and blinked away tears.
This wasn't supposed to happen. Dad was supposed to stop this! Dad, where are you…
"Sokka!"
He turned his head towards the voice, right before he was roughly thrown to the wooden floor, his head narrowly missing a table.
"Get away from there!"
He pushed himself up, watching his white-haired grandmother close the dark blue curtains in haste.
If they were to block the frightful scene of war outside, they did a poor job for Sokka could still see the fire. He could still hear the screams.
A shiver ran up his spine.
The elder pulled Sokka to his feet, shaking his shoulders.
Sokka looked down at his grandmother; her eyes were red with tears and her hair a mess.
Never before could Sokka truly see the age of his grandmother until that very night.
Her face scrunched in such anger that he had never seen.
Her nails pinched his skin when she squeezed his upper arms. "What do you think your doing?! Where's your sister! Find your sister, go to the shelter. Now!"
Sokka shut his icy blue eyes in self-hatred as his grandmother pressed a flashlight into his clenched fist.
I'm sorry dad, I-I didn't protect her. I'm sorry…
He broke from his grandmother's grasp, running off down the hallway, glancing backwards to see her grabbing knitted blankets before running for the backdoor.
Even though she had just yelled her grandson, she seemed quite calm and clear-headed.
A loud thunder shook Sokka out of astonishment.
The floor trembled under his bare tan feet, the bombs were getting closer.
"Katara!" his voice sounded horse, cracking with signs of maturity.
Sokka pushed open his sister's door, the light's beam searching the once neat room.
Books had fallen from their shelves and Sokka stumbled clumsily before righting himself.
He directed the flash light towards his younger sister's bed.
She was there, hands pressed over her ears.
Her hair, usually in a braid, fell down her back in tangled disarray.
"Katara!" Sokka shouted again, rushing to his sister's side.
She jumped from the bed, throwing her arms around her brother's neck in a rare sign of affection.
When she pulled away, he saw her lips move, but a detonation drowned out her words.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her through the house, picture frames falling from the walls and the ancient china set breaking onto the floor of the kitchen.
Sokka threw open the backdoor, letting Katara go first into the night.
"Run, Katara. Run!" He shouted over the buzz of the planes overhead.
She in slippers, and him bare, they ran across the back lawn, the wet grass slippery.
The fire in the sky lit up their faces, and reflected in Katara's cobalt eyes.
She stopped running, and took a step backwards. "Wait, Mom!"
Sokka tried to grab Katara as she passed him, but his fingers only felt the air as he stared in fear.
His sister ran back to the house, her nightgown flying out behind her.
"Katara!" Sokka shouted, taking off sprinting.
He could hear his grandmother scream from the shelter, but didn't care.
I made a promise, dad. I won't let anything happen to her.
"Sokka!" his grandmother screamed again. "Sokka, come back!"
He turned as he ran, nearly tripping, "I'll get her!"
Sokka turned towards the house again, Katara just slipping through the back door.
"'Tara!" He shouted, a blast of fire rising from two streets away.
He ran back through the house, sounds of sirens deafening and adding to the confusion of the night.
"Katara! Come back here! Katara!"
He skidded into the living room to find her opening a small box next to the couch with nervous fingers.
Boom.
An explosion rocked the house, sending Sokka to his knees and Katara flying against the wall under the window.
The world outside seemed hazed in dark tints of orange and red.
"Katara!"
He shouted for his sister again, crawling towards her crumpled body.
Glass shards sliced his palms and cut into his legs, but the pain seemed so distant.
"'Tara! Come on! We need to get outta here!" he yelled when he reached her body.
She blinked open her eyes, eyebrows shooting up in realization.
Sokka grabbed her forcefully as they ran together, from the house.
The smell of smoke even more prominent now, the moon blocked from the planes that shadowed the land.
"Hurry!" their grandmother shouted, standing in the door of the bomb shelter.
Sokka placed a hand on his sister's back and put on a burst of speed, pushing Katara even harder.
I promised to protect her.
Katara tripped into the shelter, landing on a low bed, dust flying into the musty air.
Sokka slammed the door behind him, breathing heavily, the terrifying noises of war outside silenced.
As he stared at his sister, eyes closed and tears streaming down her face, his anger broke out.
"Are you crazy, Katara! You could've gotten yourself killed! What the heck was so important you would risk your life… our life. What's wrong with you!"
His grandmother gave him a look of disapproval, as if this were all his fault. "That's enough."
Sokka crossed his arms, and sat next to Katara on the bed.
He shook his head, whispering in a gentler tone. "What's wrong with you Katara?"
She sat up shakily, fingering the object that had nearly cost her life.
Quietly, Katara tied it around her neck.
A dark blue necklace, with a light blue pendent on a gold latch.
Their mother's.
Katara's shoulders shook as she began to cry silently.
Sokka pulled her into a hug, and together, they cried into the night with their grandmother as an unvoiced observer.