Duck Avatar AU

Disclaimer 1: Ducktales or the Mickey Mouse and friends are not from my authory.

Disclaimer 2: The avatar universe is not from my authority.

Warning: Every similarity of this with another thing is only coincidence.

Chapter 1: Burning the ship.

When the triplets hatched, there was no one caring for them. There was only a single lamp above them to keep them warm, protecting them from the frozen wind of the South Pole awaiting them outside. Naked with yellow feathers and with no one there to care for them, one by one, with only a few seconds between, they broke through their shells and left that safe place to enter this world alone.

But even though an act as beautiful as birth, especially that of triplets, becomes sad with no one there to hold them and keep them warm, there is still something even sadder; Death. In the moment the ducklings were breaking through their shells, elsewhere with the strike of lightning and upon the glass-strewn ground, before his best friend's very eyes an important public figure died.

But what was special about this person? The fallen one was the avatar, the only person capable of mastering all four elements. And what does this have to do with the birth of these ducklings? One of those newborns was his successor.

A duck entered the room where three little ducklings were sleeping together in the large cradle they shared. One of them was wide awake, moving around in the crib despite being wrapped in a blue blanket. The elder watched him and only smiled, and he took the duckling in his arms. He began to sing a lullaby, trying to soften his hoarse, harsh and sharp voice so that he could lull the little one to sleep.

When the child started to yawn, the duck lowered him back into the cradle and wrapped him back in his blankets.

"I wish your mother was here. SheShe would be so proud of you … You are growing very strong," the older one smiled, and he gave each of them a kiss on the head: first the one who was wrapped in a red blanket, who yawned softly as he shifted; then the one with the blue blanket, whose eyes were half-closed as he fell back into Morpheus's arms; and lastly the one with the green blanket, who smiled a little, revealing small dimples in his cheeks. "… Why do they look so much like you…?" As he walked away, tears gathered in his eyes.

He was not their father, he was just a relative who would take care of them from then on. Uncle Donald …

Donald wrote letters every day. He repeated them but he always ended up burning them all in scorching fire. What did they say? Nobody knew, but it was for someone important. For whom?… The only thing anyone really knew was that he began writing them after his nephews hatched.

The nephews were normal children, or at least they looked like they were. The three of them were special, but it first showed up in the eldest triplet. Do you know the legends of this world? There are people who are able to control a natural element: water, earth, fire, air … The eldest brother had manifested the ability to control water at six years old. For this reason, he helped his uncle with some domestic tasks that included the use of the skill. However he hadn't really trained his ability, at least not until he became a part of the "Boy Scoutz: the Junior Woodchuck" group.

Louie also developed this ability a year later, but more vaguely than his eldest brother. In truth, every time Dewey or Huey started to bother him when they were out of the house, small cracks formed in the ice at his feet, but they went unnoticed. At least they did until one day, when Dewey was being bothersome, Louie threw a blow and accidentally made the ground crack, causing them both to fall into the water below.

And Dewey … Well, we'll talk about Dewey a little bit later.

The letters never stopped- he wrote them and always burned them- but they did decrease in number. At first there were five letters, but in the end there was only one with five names in it. Burned in the fire, his words became smoke.

"Listen to me all! A story for dinner time!" shouted an old dog with large ears, dressed in the typical fashion of the Water Nation, though his clothes looked very worn. His eyes looked crazy, but the inhabitants sat around the fire to hear him speak, as if he were the wisest of them all.

"Hey, Huey, do you really think those clothes keep him warm?" asked one of the children around the fire, chuckling. This child was a duck, and he was sitting in between two others who, curiously, looked very similar to him. The only thing that differentiated them were the feathers on their forehead.

"Yes, they do, Dewey," answered Huey, a boy with a small winter red cap, contrasting completely with the blue suits worn by the populace. "We, the Junior Woodchucks, made those thermal clothes so that old Jenkins doesn't die of the cold."

With a call from the eldest of the family of ducks, who wore a sailor's hat, the two little ducks fell silent.

Thus, the story began: stories of the different "avatars" of the world: about the avatar Felix and how he accidentally caused a small fight between spirits and mortals, about the avatar Julius who was one of the most violent and died in the spirit world, of the avatar Walt who was the first of them all, of the avatar Pattience who was the first woman and who gave the official order to learn the elements, about more avatars, about the spirits, about the white lotus and how these together with the great spirit master Yen Sid maintain the balance of the world… But the one who he spoke of the most was the avatar Mickey and his team, to the disgrace of Donald.

The old man in town knew who Donald Duck was. Or rather, what he had been. He told stories of epic battles, about the great waterbender he was, about the most powerful avatar up to that point, about a warrior from the Earth Kingdom, about a reporter from that same nation, about the princess of the Fire Nation, and the last female airbender in the world. He told of the great team they were, the "avatar team" as they called them: Mickey Mouse, a benevolent and childish young man who kept at bay a growing war until his imminent death at the hands of someone who is currently in prison.

Donald did not like to hear this, but he always ended up listening to the old man for his nephews: Huey, Dewey and Louie. Especially for the middle one, who seemed to be even more excited than the other two about the stories each day.

Donald never denied having done such feats, but he never confirmed it either. What has happened to this poor man to only be present for his nephews and not for himself? …

"Imagine that the avatar is in our tribe! Just imagine that!" Dewey said to his brothers excitedly, raising his arms and pretending to do the motions that the old storyteller made when relating historical events.

"It would be great to meet the avatar. I mean, that guy is a celebrity since his birth…" the third child who, until now, had not spoken, smiled, and amusedly tried to imitate the one with the wild hair, pulling from the ground a small, inconstant flow of water that floated around him, which due to little experience fell back to the ground without warning. He let out a small, disappointed sigh.

"Well yes, Louie. It would be pretty cool… but I do not think he'll show up again. According to the old Jenkins and the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook, it's been seven years without an avatar and he was supposed to be born among the air nomads but…" the eldest of the triplets gave a grin, remembering the old man's words saying that the cycle was broken since there were no more air nomads in the world. Or well, there was one but this guy didn't have kids.

"Oh, come on. All this is a matter of magic and those things, right?" said the youngest of the three, draping his arms around his brothers' shoulders from behind, looking from one to the other. "I mean, you have that weird magic too."

"It's called Waterbending and it's not about magic. It has to do with energy and our brains," Huey scolded Louie, annoyed. "And you're also a waterbender, I'm not the only one!"

"Magic, energy, whatever." Louie raised both eyebrows, smirking in amusement.

"The avatar has to exist! … yet…" Dewey said, looking thoughtful, before he finally smiled towards his two brothers confidently. "I know it. I mean, he could not disappear just like that."

"Oh, yeah? And how do you know, dear Dewford?" Huey raised both eyebrows as a challenge, jokingly.

"… Maybe intuition? I don't know."

"Maybe you are the avatar!" Louie said mockingly, giving a little push to the elder, who did not hesitate to push back.

"Boys, stop talking, please," their uncle said, turning to look at them with irritation.

"Yes uncle Donald…" The triplets chorused.

Years passed. Donald raised them, burned letters, trained in secret to not forget anything he knew… and in the meantime, the boys played, studied and were protected by the eldest of the house. Typical in a small and broken but good family…

One day, however, that protection turned into overprotection, as just a month after Louie's ability made itself known Dewey's own revealed itself.
But it was not water. It was air.

That day Donald wrote letters again, two to be exact. One was addressed to four people, and the fifth was going to only one person. Who…?
But these… He did not burn them.

Donald's nervousness increased, and he had the three locked in the house most of the time. Huey was no longer allowed to be part of the woodchucks, Louie couldn't get along with the other children in the town, and Donald never took his eyes off of Dewey. He had even forbidden the use of airbending in public.

Although in the beginning this bothered the children a lot, they managed to survive their paranoid uncle for three long years. Sometimes they even ran away from home to have fun outside, and although he always found them, they remembered those moments of freedom with joy. They really did not understand the current danger … At least Dewey, who was the most daring of the three, did not understand.

The moment came when their uncle locked them up when he had to leave. This was the moment Huey realized why his uncle was so paranoid.

"Water, earth, fire, air. When we were little the old man of the town told stories about a person, born every so often between each nation, who could control the four elements they called "the avatar". He told how the last avatar maintained peace throughout his time until he died due to the betrayal of one of his relatives and that, due to this, a war was about to begin. I also heard the stories, told by that crazy man, of how the avatar had had a group of companions in which my uncle Donald was listed as a great waterbender and sailor. I personally did not believe these stories and I was skeptical. Seeing is believing.
We all knew that the next avatar was among the air nomads, but according to the old man there was only one, who didn't practice the air nomad habits, and, according to him, had no children…
Strangely, my younger brother, Dewey, was an airbender. Uncle Donald, after my brother showed his power, did not let us out of home. Would he be the Avatar…? No, I really do not believe, it's just coincidence … It has to be coincidence."

The situation of confinement worsened with the passage of time, to such an extent that Donald no longer allowed them to even help him clean up at home, as if he thought that they would escape or something. Unconsciously, this caused fights among the children: Louie blamed Dewey for the situation, Huey was not a great mediator and only took care to make sure they did not get hurt from the blows, Dewey blames the other two for doing nothing against Uncle Donald, Huey yelled a lot at both of them (especially to Dewey because the child is too reckless)… it was just a disaster.

One day, when one of these fights occurred, the brothers were in the kitchen. Louie boredly watched as Dewey tried to create a swirl of air in his hands, another good excuse to get into trouble.

"Leave that, you'll never make it," Louie said mockingly, leaning his elbows on the kitchen counter and his head on the palms of his hands.

"Do you want to try?" Dewey glared at Louie, crossing his arms.

"… No thanks. I'm not an air person, you know…" He turned to a small glass of water, trying to move the water without success. "… Meh, one day I'll get it…"

"You know you have to practice, right?" Huey asked, and with a single motion he lifted the water from the glass and put it back into it.

"Stop doing that, kids!" Donald's scream was heard from the top floor. "I do not want you to get hurt or something!"

Louie leaned on the bar, face down, in frustration. Dewey grimaced. Huey just sighed in resignation…

"This is impossible…" said the middle brother.

"You said it," Louie's voice, muffled by the large jacket he wore, grumbled out an agreement.

"We'll find something to have fun. We always do…" said the eldest, trying to encourage the other two.

And so, Dewey just started hitting the bar like it was a drum. What? He was bored. It did not cause Louie to flinch, nor did he lift his head from its place on the counter. Huey, on the other hand, did react, and he raised an eyebrow questioningly at his brother.

"Excuse me, but what are you doing?"

"Rhythm…?" Dewey answered, and he continued to beat lightly on the counter without noticing that each tap left a small black spot on the wooden bar. "I'm bored."

"Eh… Dewey…" Huey, noticing those little marks, tried to make his brother stop. A second blow on one of them generated smoke, but the kid with ruffled hair did not flinch even a little.

Huey kept trying to make Dewey stop, but as if believing it was a challenge the younger kept on even stronger. Annoyed, Louie looked up to try to make them shut up for once, but felt a strong blow to his right arm, on the sleeve of the jacket, and stared at it in shock. After a few seconds watching a small incandescent light on the garment he finally screamed. After him was Huey, and in the end Dewey shouted.

Donald heard the cries of the triplets and, surprised, he ran awkwardly down the stairs. What was found was something unpleasant; his kitchen was on fire.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"

With nothing more to think about, he grabbed them one by one and took them out of the house while the flames swept across each and every piece of furniture, through every room.

And in the distance, the family watched the flames destroy their home.

"… Now pay me, Dewey…" Louie, freezing without his large jacket, just stretched his arm to Dewey, waiting for something. Dewey, without even looking at his brother, just took out of his pocket a pack of dry meat and a few coins and gave them to Louie.

"I can't believe you were right…" Dewey just whispered, with shock written in his face.

"I didn't wanted to believe, but THAT day arrived. The day that Dewey accidentally burned our home down with his hands, since he actually controlled the air. My uncle Donald went into such a great panic that he took us out of town a few hours after that, in a boat that he says he bought. I could see the terror in his eyes and I did not know why, but I was also very afraid. The avatar was born again, and it was my brother… What could be worse than this?"

Welp, this is my first english fanfiction in all the world. also my first ducktales fanfiction... I wish you like it guys!