Disclaimer: A:TLA and A:LoK are not mine.
Aang comes sprinting down the hallway, adding a little gust in his step to speed himself along. It's been a day far too full of nothing— greeting visiting dignitaries and politely accepting gifts and idly chitchatting about the condition of his wife and son.
His son.
That's where he's headed now, running in a most undignified manner along the wooden hallways of their house, to the room where Katara is resting with baby Bumi. It's been three days since the birth, and Aang has never been happier, though his Avatar duties of keeping the peace – in other words, of not offending various nations by refusing to entertain their ambassadors – have never seemed more of a bother. All he wants to do is lie in bed with Katara all day long and marvel over Bumi's tiny hands, coo over his every gurgle and burp.
The door is ajar. Aang is about to burst in, when he hears a soft voice. He peeks through the crack.
Katara is asleep, long hair loosened and fanning across the pillows, and Aang pinches himself for the hundredth time, wondering how exactly he managed to be so lucky to have such a wife.
But Bumi isn't in cradled in her arms. After a moment of temporary panic, he sees his baby, wrapped in swaddling clothes, being rocked back in forth by a figure pacing the room.
Sokka. He and Suki had been spending the year in Kyoshi Island, and Sokka had insisted on traveling to Republican City before Katara had gone into labor, despite his sister's insincere protesting. Katara had been more than glad, Aang knows, to have her big brother with them to welcome the newest addition to the family.
Sokka is the one talking, softly, to Bumi. Aang leans in a bit closer, the tone of Sokka's voice – light, but not the normal baby-talk that Aang has been employing for the last three days – making the Avatar reluctant to burst in and interrupt the moment.
"So it isn't going to be easy," Sokka is saying, in a serious tone that Aang still isn't quite used to hearing from his brother-in-law, "I know your mother doesn't want me to tell you this, hell, she'd probably sock me—get it? – straight into next week if she knew I were telling you this, but the thing is, I can tell you're bright. I see it in those big grey eyes of yours. They're clear, just like mine; we see the world the same way, you and I. So I'm going to tell if to you straight, okay, little buddy?
It's hard, not being a bender. Really, really hard. Especially when your kid siblings are. Now, I know, I know, you don't have anything siblings yet, you just being born and all, but you will. You know that as well I do, don't you? Your parents can barely keep their hands off each other; they're in love, which is awesome, blah blah blah. It weirds me out, and it'll probably weird you out too, but still.
You know that chances are, whatever siblings you have will end up being benders. Air benders, water benders, watery-air benders, airy-water benders, whatever. I don't really know how this whole bending thing works, obviously, but when your dad's the Avatar and your mom's the strongest water bending master in this side of a century, well, it's just a matter of time.
What I do know, and what I want you to know too, is that it's going to be hard to see your kid siblings doing all sorts of craaaaazy nonsense, and not being able to join in. To want to protect them, but not being able to because how on earth can a good head and a boomerang compete with the ability to shoot fire out of your flippin' hands? Am I right?
But I know you're a strong kid. Just like me: strong, and smart, and extremely good looking, if I do say so myself. You got all that from your mom's side of the family, and don't you forget it, little man. Your dad, well, he's okay, I guess, being the Avatar and all, but he's not always the smartest fishy in a school of panther-barracudas, if you catch my drift. Oh, you do catch my drift, that must be why you're spitting up all over me. Cute.
Well, anyways, like I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me… what was I saying?
Oh yeah, panther-barracudas. Aang… he's got a lot on his plate, you know? He's got the pressure of being the Avatar and making sure all the nations at least keep from destroying each other. He's got the pressure of being the last Airbender, and hoping against hope that maybe somehow he can keep an entire race from dying out. And on top of that, for some reason he decided to marry my crazy sister, which is a whole lot of pressure in and of itself, I bet.
So it's going to be a bit of a juggling act for your dad. Take today, for example. He wanted, more than anything, to be with you today. You saw how he practically had to earthbend the ground beneath him to force himself out the door. But his Avatar duties came first. Not because they're more important than his daddy-duties, but because he's trying to build a world that you can grow up in happily, and to do that, he needs to attend to his Avatar-ness. From now on, you and your mom and your siblings are going to be the first reason your dad does anything. Even if it feels like he's abandoning you sometimes, to do his Avatar duties, or his Airbender duties, you have to know that everything he does, he does for you. Even if that means leaving you behind, sometimes. I mean, take me for instance. Your granddad left me alone in the South Pole with your mom and a bunch of villagers when we were just kids, not because he didn't love us, but because he loved us enough to try to make a better world for us. Your dad's the same way.
Yes, I know, I know, he wanted his first child to be an airbender. Oh, come on, don't give me that look, Bumi. Don't cry, don't cry, please don't cry. You're tougher than that, little man.
See? I knew you were made of sterner stuff. Besides, it's not like I'm telling you something you didn't already know. It's no secret that your dad doesn't want to be the last airbender, and the easiest way to ensure that he can pass on that legacy is by passing it on to his kids.
But that doesn't mean he loves you any less than he would if you had been a bender. It just means that there's a part of him, the airbender part, that you might not be able to share with him. But the bigger part of him, the part that is Aang, and human… the part that your mom fell in love with, and the part that I. with the fewest misgivings possible, agreed to let my baby sister marry… that part is all yours, nephew.
All-powerful Avatar or not, though, he won't be able to teach you what it is to be a non-bender in a bending world.
So. I'm going to teach you what it is to be a non-bender. It's about being smart, because these silly benders think they can just pound and pound away at a problem until it disappears. Take your Auntie Toph, for example. Was that a shudder or a burp? I think it was a shudder, but a burp seems to be an appropriate response too, now doesn't it. She's the kind who just whacks away again and again and hopes that something different happens. That, my nephew, is the definition of insanity. She's absolutely cuckoo. Me, I'm going to teach you how to break a problem using your head, by looking at it creatively and from all the angles you can. And I'm going to teach you how to convince people to listen to what you say, not because you'll burn them to a crisp if they don't, but because what you're saying makes sense. I'm going to teach you how to lead people, from their hearts and their minds.
And I'm going to teach you how to trounce anyone, bender or not, with nothing more than your quick wits and a boomerang in the air and a trusty sword at your side. I can best Firelord Zuko in a duel now, did ya hear? That's not something to sneeze at, now is it?
And I'll teach you how to rise above watching your little sister control water with just her mind and splashing you with every chance she gets, or watching this tiny ant-shrimp of a boy flying through the air, taunting you without ever meaning to or even knowing it. I'm going to teach you how to become stronger than just wishing you could do that too. The key is self-confidence, and the knowledge that you are worth every bit as much as they are, bender or not. Anything they can do, you can do too; your way is just different, is all. Humor helps too—if you can laugh at yourself, you can laugh at anything, and if you can laugh, well, nothing seems quite so bad and unfair anymore, right?
And more than anything else, I just want you to know, that if you ever need anything, Aunt Suki and Uncle Sokka's house is always open to you, okay, little buddy?"
Katara stirs, and Sokka stops pacing to glance at his sister. Her eyes are just barely fluttering open, brilliant blue, when she suddenly jolts awake.
"Bumi," she says, sitting straight upright, sleep-dazed eyes frantically searching the room.
"Right here, sis," Sokka holds up his nephew as proof, "I was worried you'd roll over and squish him in your sleep, so I rescued him."
Katara visibly loosens, relaxing back into the pillows, holding her arms out for her baby, "Gimme."
"What's the magic word?" Sokka sing-song teases, but he hastily places the child in his mother's arms as Katara fixes him with a death stare.
Aang decides that the time is ripe to enter. He knocks lightly on the door as he pushes it open with his hand instead of a burst of breeze, for once. He finds that for some reason, he can't meet Sokka's pale blue eyes, clear as baby Bumi's. Sokka's always been able to see through him, ever since that day in the Southern Water tribe when two siblings found the century-lost Avatar hidden away in an ice bubble.
He kisses his wife, and sits on the edge of their bed, his hand on her shoulder, his eyes fixed on his son. Bumi, of the clear eyes, beams toothlessly and adoringly up at his parents.
Aang can feel Sokka looking at the three of them. Aang can feel Sokka seeing the three of them, and wonders not for the first time if this is what Sokka can bend. Not elements, nothing so tangible and pedestrian as fire or air, but information. Knowledge. Intuition. Heart.
If so, Aang muses as he looks at Bumi, unable to tear his gaze away, there is no better mentor for this child.
"Thank you, Sokka," he whispers, feeling all of twelve-years old and so unsure of himself all over again.
Sokka doesn't ask why Aang is thanking him. The water tribesman is smart. He knows that Aang was listening at the door. He knows that he managed to put the Avatar's feelings into words better than the airbender ever could.
"No problem, little bro," he mutters back, sitting on the other side of Katara, "That's what uncles are for."
A/N For my big brother, 'cause I know you read these. Thanks for always being the Sokka to my Katara. :)
Next is Honora, with Uncle advice from Iroh.