Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender; someone else who's very lucky does. I didn't create it; that credit goes to the two geniuses and my role models, Mike DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko. And I'm not making money by posting this story.

A/N: Originally completed in August or September of 2008. After watching "The Day of Black Sun," I had a lot of theories on how the next episode was going to pan out. So this story is just one author's ideas on what was happening as the Aang Gang flew to the Western Air Temple. Review, oh, please!

After the Eclipse

Hakoda watched the sky bison disappear over the sea's horizon and gave a small nod of satisfaction. The children were safe now. The roaring of bombs on the nearby beach signified the destruction of the submarines. Teo's father sighed sadly, grieving for the loss of his beautiful inventions. As the hum of the airships approached, Tyro spoke a few last-minute words of instruction to the assembled fighters.

"Remain calm, everyone. Remember, once we surrender, we will be taken alive. The Fire Nation won't execute war prisoners." He bent close to Hakoda and muttered, "I hope."

Hakoda was just as uncertain about their fate as Tyro was, but he held his head high and stood calmly as the Fire Nation balloons landed a short distance in front of them.

"Stand your ground!" he shouted. "This is not the surrender of a band of cowards, but an assembly of warriors." He glanced around, proud to see his men holding their positions without flinching at all. He felt sorry for the men from the Foggy Swamp. Facing the prospect of surrender and imprisonment in the notorious Fire Nation prisons, they were tense, looking almost like frightened children.

As the Firebenders exited their balloons, Tyro boomed, "We surrender!" The soldiers, obviously suspecting a trick, filed forward threateningly, holding flames ready in their hands. Hakoda could tell which one was the general from the arrogant tilt of his head. His piercing amber gaze took in Hakoda and his men before he gestured at them and said tersely,

"Drop your weapons." With a clatter, a forest of spears fell to the ground. Hidden daggers were drawn from inside boots and discarded. Machetes and bone clubs thumped softly into the sand. Finally, Hakoda slipped his glittering boomerang from its case, stroked it one last time, and placed it on the ground at his feet. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Pipsqueak drop a club that resembled a tree trunk, and even the mechanist laid down a small knife. A thin, bearded little man came hurrying up to the general and said, with a low bow,

"Sir, the men wearing leaves for loincloths are Waterbenders."

"What?" the general snapped, his eyes flashing in alarm. "Put your hands on the ground!" he snarled at the Foggy Swamp residents with more force than was necessary. A few of them cringed, but as they knelt to press their palms to the dune sand, Hakoda heard Yu murmuring comfortingly to assuage their fear.

"And you, Earthbenders, put your arms behind your back," the general continued, waving his hand vaguely at the group around Tyro. He pointed to the battalion of masked soldiers under his command and ordered, "Subdue the prisoners." He uttered the last word with a sneer of triumph. As the Fire Nation troops moved among Tyro and his men, pinning their arms behind them with metal shackles, the general strode regally back and forth.

"So, you imagined that if you attacked with enough men on the Day of Black Sun, during the Firebenders' time of greatest weakness, you could defeat the firelord. But the Fire Nation is not overcome so easily." The sporadic clanks of helmets hitting the ground punctuated his statement. Each time a soldier bound one of the Water Tribe men's hands behind him, he ripped the man's helmet off his head and tossed it away. Looking on, the general grinned sadistically and continued,

"We are a race of people as powerful and tenacious as a burning flame. And the fire of our determination, the strength of our will, our drive to achieve great things—none of these traits have diminished in the generations since noble Firelord Sozun began this great war."

The soldier came to Hakoda and yanked his arms behind him. Hakoda heard the chink of a shackle locking into place. Shoving him roughly aside, the masked soldier continued past him to bind Bato.

"On the contrary," the general went on, his nose in the air, "these noble traits, all inherent to the Fire Nation from the beginning, have only grown stronger in our hearts. And we will continue to—"

At that moment, the general's aide came running up to him and interrupted, "Sir! The prisoners have been subdued as you requested. Their weapons and armor have been confiscated."

"Ah, good," the general acknowledged, looking slightly crestfallen that he wouldn't get to finish his speech. His eyes narrowed as he surveyed the chained men assembled before him. "Which one led the invasion, then?"

"Reports say that it was a boy of about fifteen or sixteen years old, sir."

"A boy?" the general repeated in disbelief.

"Y-yes, sir. Many of our men swore they saw him leading the charge on the royal palace, riding the flying bison into battle."

Hakoda smiled proudly. Not only had his son single-handedly led the entire invasion force, but he had also managed to baffle an entire legion of soldiers.

"Impossible," the general said softly, beginning to mutter to himself. "They wouldn't entrust leadership to a boy who had neither the talent nor the experience to fight. The boy must have been a decoy—yes, of course." He raised his voice. "The real leader must be here somewhere. We will find him—so that he may be brought to justice." He began walking around, scrutinizing each man as he passed. He strode quickly by the Hippo, the Boulder, and Pipsqueak, and didn't even spare a glance at the Waterbenders from Foggy Swamp. When he came to a halt among the Earthbenders, his aide spoke up eagerly,

"The Earthbenders have always been the ones who resisted us most stubbornly. Perhaps the leader is one of them." This theory seemed to make sense to the other soldiers, who began nodding to one another. After a long pause of contemplation, the general shook his head.

"No," he decided, his hard stare resting on Tyro. "They would not send their elder to lead their troops. And besides, the Earthbenders were not the first ones on the beach—the Waterbenders were." He stepped through the Water Tribe men, his gaze raking across each man's face. After searching among them for many minutes, he came to a halt in front of Hakoda, his eyes wide with recognition.

"Hakoda of the Water Tribe, leader of the Southern Fleet. Your ships have caused much trouble for us in these past years. Perhaps you thought you would always be one step ahead of us," the general addressed him smugly. "But you've led your last charge." He whirled on the nearest group of soldiers and barked, "This man is the leader! Take him away." Immediately four of the Firebenders grabbed him and began dragging him toward the beach. The rest of the Water Tribe men surged forward, but Hakoda shouted,

"Hold your positions!" All he could do as they led him away was gaze at Bato, whose face was full of pain and doubt. The general wore a gleeful grin.

"The rest of the prisoners will be taken to a separate prison, but you, Hakoda, will have the pleasure of staying at the Boiling Rock."

Hakoda was dragged down to the sea and forced to board a prison transport ship. Stuck in the cramped hold with a dozen or so rough-looking prisoners, he tried to ignore the stale, smelly air and keep to himself. After three days of sailing, he was the only prisoner on board that wasn't seasick. The stale bread and watery tea that he was given wasn't exactly a banquet, but he was grateful that he could at least keep the food in his stomach after eating.

At last, the engines of the ship stopped growling, and light flooded the hold as the trapdoor was opened. A guard above tossed down a mass of scarlet material and shouted,

"Undress and put these on!"

Hakoda slipped out of his sealskin trousers and woven blue tunic. He folded them solemnly before pulling the red prison uniform over his head. They were trying to remove his identity along with his clothes, but he didn't care how long he was imprisoned here—however long he was obliged to wear this scratchy robe, he would not forget that he came from the Water Tribe.

As the prisoners climbed the ladder to the trapdoor and filed out onto the upper deck, Hakoda coughed involuntarily: the air was sharp with the tang of smoke, and ash drifted on the hot wind. The prisoners debarked in a single-file line, heavily flanked by masked soldiers. They marched through coal-black soil, their boots giving off puffs of smoke with each step. Their climb up a sheer mountain—which Hakoda later gathered was actually a volcano—took most of the morning. When they reached the top, they were pushed into a metal gondola suspended above a boiling lake. As the gondola slid downward to an island in the lake's center, Hakoda panted in the searing, steam-filled air. The idea that he would soon be locked within the walls of a prison atop a barely-dormant volcano filled him with dread. He had no idea how long he was going to remain here, or what to expect during his stay. Yet there was no regret in his mind. He had come to this hopeless place of his own free will, and if he had the chance to repeat his actions, he wouldn't change a thing. Miles from here, the children were safe. And if he had thought he could protect Sokka and Katara by doing so, he would have gladly consented to remain on the Boiling Rock for as long as he lived.

~The End~