Author's Note: Well, it's literally been years since I've written anything for fun, and the past few days I've been on an Avatar fanfiction bender. Seriously. It's been keeping me up until 3 or 4 in the morning, thank goodness it's been spring break. Anyway, this is going to be a challenging story, because I want to get the characters right, but more mature, I'll be writing teenage characters, which will be interesting, and I'll be writing ROMANCE without getting too sappy or too flippant, which will be...difficult for me. Constructive criticism will be necessary, I think, so thank you in advance for reading and reviewing!
Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: the Last Airbender, or its associated properties.
Sweat, ash, smoke, and moisture.
Those were what triggered the most memories. They hung in the air, wrapped in the overwhelming smell of the ocean, but when those scents on the wind reached Sokka standing on the deck of the ship, he could feel the memories welling up behind his eyes, strong enough almost to push the view of shoreline from his sight. Memories of fear and subversion, of concealment and a sickly paranoia that had clung to him for weeks on end, before giving way to the euphoria of victory that had muddled his head for weeks after the fall of the Fire Lord. The dichotomy between the feel of those memories was almost savory, like biting into a piece of meat soaked in sweet and sour sauce. Sokka could enjoy it, even as a twinge of uncertainty began to gnaw at him as the harbor came closer.
Twenty years.
How could it possibly have been that long? But the passage of time was plain to see. The rebuilt and expanded Southern Water Tribe city had been proof of that as he saw it sliding backwards over the horizon when the journey began, but watching the Fire Nation capital approach with its shining new highrise buildings, elevated train system, and enormous shipyards filled with ship after steel ship, a thriving metropolis built on trade rather than war, Sokka leaned forward on the cold metal railing as he felt time weighing on his shoulders. The city was completely different. What about its occupants?
Hence the uncertainty, a small but persistent doubt that Sokka had felt many times before, the kind that appeared before seeing someone that he had known well, but no longer knew how well he knew them now. He smiled wanly at the twisted sentiment, but clarity had never been his strong points, even within his own mind. He could see what was and what needed to be done and he did it, and spirits help whomever he had to explain his actions to, because no medium besides action had ever appealed to him as a way of explanation. In the Water Tribe in which he had grown up, that was rarely a problem. It didn't take more than a few hand signals to effectively coordinate a hunt or more than a few yelled commands to direct troops in battle. Plans always went wrong, anyway, and improvisation had saved him more times than he had fingers. And toes. And hairs. More than I can count, ok?
But nowadays, with a growing tribe with growing needs…
The world was changing. He had fought to rebalance the world, but he hadn't realized it would be a new balance, a balance which was rapidly throwing people to the ground if they couldn't strike a new stance quickly enough. As he watched the ship pass by the fire-crowned sentinel towers that marked the civilian harbor entrance, Sokka reflected on the lessons he had received from Master Piandao about stances. A strong stance is a strong foundation, but never forget that an earthquake may liquefy the foundation's foundation he mused, idly tracing the movements of dockhands preparing for the arrival of the Water Tribe ship. His smile grew stronger as he noted, even at this distance, the looks of surprise and scrutiny as the ship drew alongside the dock far more nimbly and stopping far too quickly for a ship her size, but Sokka guessed they weren't used to waterbending-assisted trimming and docking procedures. It was odd enough for a steel ship to be flying Water Tribe colors-that her engines would be supplemented by a dedicated trio of waterbenders (Southern waterbenders) wouldn't be expected of backwards, overly traditional tribal aborigines who had teetered at the edge of extinction for a century. Most of their trading fleet were still wooden and wind-powered, after all. But not all, and the last wooden military vessel commissioned by the Southern Water Tribe (and what a foreign term that was!) had already been half-built when Sokka returned home from the Hundred Year War. But they were there, below deck, Hama, Fyatto and Yaj, three waterbenders who specialized in helping steel behemoths power through the seas with more speed and agility than coal could provide alone. They had even given Kya some pointers that she swore would help her show up all the apprentices when she arrived in the North. Not that she needed many…
Docking was complete, and the gangplanks were in place. An official-looking man in clothes of imperial red strode out of what could only be the harbor master's post, looking expectedly at the first men and women disembarking with various supplies.
Sokka stood away from the railing and stretched his arms upward, groaning as several cracks sounded from his spine, before sweeping up a canvas knapsack at his feet and swinging it onto his back with a gentle plof, on the opposite side from his sword, of course. He walked, silently as usual, down a flight of stairs into the ship's interior. He reached the passageway with the open hold door where a gangplank was laid and looked around quizzically. Men and women were trickling to the gangplank with various boxes and bags. Kya had said she only needed something from the cabin…
"Here I am, Dad!"
Her voice, so like her aunt's, was hoarse from panting as she burst out of an open doorway to his right. She skidded to a halt in front of him, breathing deeply as she regained her breath and looking up at him, her father's blue eyes twinkling so merrily from her face that he couldn't help but smile back. Luckily, her eyes and her skin color were the only things she had inherited straight from her father. Her nose had settled on the midpoint between his own and Suki's, but everything else, from the shape of her eyes and lips to the shade of her brown hair, was Suki. She even carried herself like Suki had, with the brash, confident grace that marked the Kyoshi Warrior style.
"And where have you been, Miss Oh-No-I'll-Be-Right-Back-Don't-Let-Them-Dock-The-Ship-Without-Me?" he asked, reaching out to tug a hair-loopy back in place from behind her ear. "The ship has sailed on that one."
She rolled her eyes at his joke. "Yaj was showing me how to swing the bow over without smashing the dock. It's actually pretty hard! You hafta be powerful enough to move the ship but careful enough to make sure it slows down before-"
"And did you or didn't you remember the reason you went below in the first place?" A grin split Sokka's face as Kya yelped, twisted and ran.
"I'll be right back! For real this time!" she yelled over her shoulder before disappearing around a corner. It wasn't a huge ship, but Sokka knew she would be a little while. Perhaps he should go greet the official, whoever he was, while she took care of whatever she needed. But no, he seemed to recall something about proper procedure or diplomatic protocol or something equally headache-inducing. He and his-entourage?-couldn't disembark until they were completely assembled for public viewing. He smirked a little, remembered how Toph's sarcasm had dripped all over "public viewing" the first time she'd explained it to him. The clothing he wore would be stifling once he got out into the sun, and the public viewing him would be likely to note how utterly unsuited Watertribesmen were to the tropical heat. But protocol was protocol, and if that meant the tribe had to waste time and coin on a ceremonial outfit that he would be wearing a total of four times on this months-long journey…
Not that it was a bad outfit, he thought, catching a blurry image of himself in the highly polished steel wall opposite him. It was in the style of the warrior uniform, deep blue trimmed with white fur and a half moon splayed across his chest, but the cloth was much finer than any warrior's kit he had worn during the war-real silk imported with the proceeds of the Southern Water Tribe's growing wealth, so that the blue shimmered with points of white light even in the dim passageway. The half moon was outlined with real silver thread, and the fur was the result of months of hunting hare-foxes, soft and white bordering translucence. Hare-foxes he himself had hunted. As long as he was going to be wearing it, he might as well help gain the materials for it, after all.
But still, it was utilitarian. Even from a distance he could tell that the official waiting for him on the docks below wore robes that were much richer than his, but it was a reminder of just what it took to be the future Chief of the Southern Water Tribe. He had fought battles alongside the Avatar, trained with the best warriors, and had claimed victory where none had seemed possible. He didn't need clothes to command respect; he had wretched it from the field of battle with his bare hands.
And it showed, he was pleased to see. He had grown taller since the war, his face had matured under the unforgiving midnight sun, his hair hung to his shoulders, and his body had filled out into the lean warrior he had always dreamed of becoming. Not bad, he thought, half turning and flexing a little to see how his muscles moved under the silk. Not bad at all. Even twenty years after he was last seen in these parts, he could still claim his title as Sokka, Ladykiller of the South, ready to dazzle and ensnare beautiful women with just an easy smile and a raised eyebrow.
And it had been a long time since anyone had seen a dazzling smile on his face. Not since-
The sound of tigerseal boots thudding on steel announced the return of his daughter long before she rounded the corner again, this time with a satchel swinging from her arm.
"A handbag?" he asked with a degree of amused disbelief. "You needed your handbag before we left? Kya, I know a young lady has needs, but this is-"
"Not just the handbag!" Kya snapped, rolling her eyes. "Before we left, I got something from Aunt Katara, something she said she'd found in-but I'm wearing them! See?" she grinned and gracefully turned in a full circle, stopping to look at him hopefully.
It was times like this that he wished he'd spent a little less time training with swords and more learning what girls wanted him to see. He had thought this point would be moot after the wedding, but a wife and a daughter had patiently (and not so patiently) taught him otherwise. Now, however, he had no idea what he was supposed to be looking at while she spun, yet Kya thought it was obvious, that much was certain. Well, all he could do was guess, so…
"Um…"
Her smile faded a little, annoyance creeping in. He gulped, and looked harder. His daughter's formal wear couldn't possibly match the opulence they were likely to see up in the palace, but the seamstresses back home had outdone themselves regardless. Like him, she was dressed in a simple design based on the parkas and pants they wore in their homeland, but made of whispering, light blue silk. Darker blue thread was embroidered in the shape of moons and waves that signified her status as a powerful waterbender, and her sleeves carried the fur of the very best hare-foxes he could find after scouring the tundra for days of travel from their city. Blue cords were woven into her hair-loopies, with silver clips that glittered with-
Oh, thank you, most blessed Yue!
"Are those real sapphires?" he asked, poking the clips that held the loopies in place.
Kya grinned with relief. "Yes! All the way from the jewelers of Ba Sing Se, can you believe it?"
"Given the way your aunt and uncle travel? I can." His smile was tinged with relief, too. It didn't go well when someone missed something Kya thought was obvious. But now that that was settled, they could go and-
"Aunt Katara even sent some for you!"
"What." His flat tone didn't ruffle his daughter, as she reached into her satchel. He looked at the clips in her hair, noticing that the clips were in the shape of butterflies. Not the sort of thing to go on the braid framing the right side of his face, or on the wolf tail keeping part of his hair back. "Mine better be shaped like wolves. Or at least an otter-penguin." He did not put it past his sister to let her niece put otter-penguin clips in his wolf tail.
"Come on, Dad, nobody wants to see that." Kya's face was bent over the satchel, but he could practically hear her eyes roll for the third time in ten minutes. "They'll be manly enough for you-aha!" And she withdrew her hand from the satchel and thrust out an open palm. In it were a simple, clear blue bead and a sapphire embedded in a silver clasp with a thin strip of cloth threaded through it. "See? You'll hardly notice them. Here, bend over." Sokka raised an eyebrow again but dutifully leaned over so his daughter could slip the bead up and over the blue band that held his braid. Then she swept behind him to swap out the band in his hair with the ornamented one. Once she was done, she stepped back and prowled around him, surveying from every angle. He straightened into a rigid military stance, eyes straight ahead, waiting.
She stopped in front of him, nodded once, then broke into a smile and hugged him. He relaxed immediately and wrapped his arms around her.
"You look great, Dad. The Fire Lord won't recognize you."
"I hope not. The time before last I was here, I was blowing up his city!" She laughed, the sound of it musically echoing in the passageway. "You look beautiful, Kya. Your mother would be so proud to see you." A flash of sadness passed through his heart, and he saw it mirrored on his daughter's face. He quickly pressed on. "Not that you're not always beautiful, I mean, you're always pretty and I'm always driving away suitors who don't deserve you and it doesn't matter what you're wearing because true beauty-" He felt a hand press against his lips.
"Thanks, Dad." Kya's eyes were soft. "Should we go?"
He breathed deep and let it out in a rush. "I guess we should. Never a better time than now, I guess." He turned and offered his arm, and Kya hooked her elbow with his. Together they strode out into the bright sun.
Walking slowly to let their eyes adjust, Sokka soon spotted the official he had seen earlier, waiting at the foot of the gangplank. He was thoroughly bureaucratic, average height with thin hands clasped in front of him, thin face with watery eyes looking mildly at them from beneath slim, black eyebrows, hair jet black and slicked back with not a strand out of place, and immaculately dressed in imperial red robes which barely swished the ground. I'm going to be hearing the word 'quite' and 'very good' from him. A lot.
As Sokka and Kya reached the bottom of the gangplank, the official strode forward, spreading his arms in welcome. Sokka noted the neutral gesture. "Good day to you, Sokka Hakoda's son of the Southern Water Tribe," he said, his voice sounding a bit louder than one would expect from one of his stature, but with the same detached courtesy Sokka had learned to expect from all bureaucrats in Official Mode. "Good day to you, Kya Sokka's daughter. I am Jorun, Deputy Minister of Homeland Policy. Welcome to the Fire Nation. I trust your journey went quite well?"
Sokka bowed his head slightly, and felt Kya do the same. "Yes, thank you. We are honored to meet you, Deputy Minister Jorun." He could already feel the sun beating down on him, heating his dark clothes. Sweat was beading on his face. He suddenly remembered tales Katara would tell him of officials and bureaucrats dragging on official welcomes while the sun shone mercilessly or rain and snow lashed at them. How long were official Fire Nation welcomes? He had no idea.
Jorun inclined his head slightly, acknowledging Sokka's reply. "Have you any objections if we proceed to the palace immediately? The Fire Lord is honored by your visit, and wishes to see you as soon as may be. Your goods will be sent to the palace with all possible speed."
"Yes, that would be fine," Sokka said, trying to keep his voice level so as not to show his relief too obviously.
"Very good. If you and the Lady Kya would be so kind as to follow me." Jorun turned and began walking along the pier. Sokka and Kya followed behind, Kya giggling as quietly as she could at being called a lady. Sokka looked down at her.
"Don't be getting any ideas," he teased. "He may think you're a lady, but I know-"
Kya poked him in the ribs with an elbow with the inconspicuous speed and force of a Kyoshi Warrior. It would have been hard to believe she was sixteen, if her mother and father hadn't been up to certain adventures at her age. "From what Aunt Katara has told me, the ladies I'll be meeting won't be very ladylike at all," she whispered, a note of trepidation in her voice. "Stuck up highborns who won't like associating with a Water Tribe peasant."
Sokka nodded, a hand stroking his short goatee. "Go with a water whip to the face. If you must strike, make sure you only need to strike once."
If Jorun noticed the half-shocked, half-amused sound Kya made, he gave no sign as he lead them to some-
"Palanquins?"
"Oh, yes, quite. It's the proper way to bring honored guests to the palace. Quite the honor indeed, sir."
Sokka tried very hard not to laugh in the man's face. Of all the ridiculous- "Ah…thank you, Deputy Minister, I'm sure it's a very-um, relaxing way to travel," he said, looking at the rather forlorn troupe of palace servants ready to heave the ornate, red-and-gold palanquins-spirits, they had a separate one for Kya-all the way up the steep, crowded, hot, sunny, filled-with-Fire-Nationals-who-may-or-may-not-welcome-them streets between the harbor and the palace.
"…you know, come to think of it, I've always wanted a ride in these things. What do you think, Kya?" he turned to her to see her outright boggling at the palanquin reserved for her. Four musclebound, thuggish men were assigned to it, looking like anyone who approached them would be chewed up, spat out, and ground into the dirt.
Ah, the Fire Lord knows how a man likes to protect his daughter.
"Well, then! Off we go!" And he pushed Kya towards them and very nearly bounced into his palanquin, kneeling excitedly and beaming at the servants as they hefted him up. Jorun began to slide thick curtains to shield him from view, but Sokka waved him off. He wanted to see the city, after all. He did lean over to the deputy minister and say softly, "Make sure my daughter goes in front, and that I can see her at all times." Jorun was too well-schooled to gulp or react in any way, but he paused briefly and nodded before moving to speak briefly with the thugs carrying Kya. Sokka leaned back and thought Ah. Well, that confirms we're not entirely welcome. Not surprising. They moved to the harbor entrance and out into the city beyond, Jorun walking between the palanquin, slightly head of Sokka.
Trained with a warrior's eye, Sokka took in a lot of details as they wound from the harbor up towards the palace, matching what he saw with the maps and scrolls that had reached the Southern Water Tribe. It was just passing noon when they arrived, so the streets were fairly crowded with people looking for a quick lunch before returning to their business. Sokka let his eyes slide over them, judging their reactions to seeing palanquins cutting through the busy masses and seeing him dressed in Water Tribe finery. Most of the looks he caught were merely curious, a few even excited, but a disquieting number of eyes flashed with anger and pointedly looked away until they had passed. Sokka spared a glance out the corner of his eye when this happened and usually saw small knots of muttering people looking darkly after him. Note to self: do not let Kya wander around by herself. Disquieting as it was, it was far from the overwhelmingly bad reaction he had imagined in his darker, more paranoid moments as they had made the journey here, so Sokka had plenty of time and attention to spare to look at the city itself.
The civilian harbor hadn't existed twenty years ago when Sokka had assaulted the Fire Navy base just to its east. All supplies the capital city needed had been imported by the military, and only a few smaller fishing vessels had used the deep bay now encompassed by the harbor. The Fire Lord had built it in the hopes of attracting merchants drawn by proximity to the seat of power and the rather convenient crossroad the capital city offered with trade flowing east, north, and south, but even he had been astounded by the number of people who had come to set up shop in the plain between the volcanic caldera housing the palace and the new harbor, the city spreading first to the slopes of the caldera and the edges of the Fire Navy base, and then clockwise around the caldera before it was stopped by the pastures and farmland that fed the capital.
And so the new arrivals had nowhere to go but up.
Iron and steel were responsible for the new highrises sprouting all over the city. Sokka had heard that the Mechanist was rebuilding some of the towers of the Northern Air Temple with steel skeletons that would allow them to be twice as big as their predecessors, but he had doubted it until now, despite Aang's exuberant description. Some of these towers seemed impossibly high, and Sokka knew from experience that the higher you went, the faster the wind tended to blow. Being on top of those things must be like being on a ship at sea.
"Oh yes, quite." Jorun said when Sokka pointed this out. "Some people can get quite sick, but they can't make them too stiff or they'd fall over in a typhoon or earthquake. Quite the problem."
And if there was something that Sokka liked, it was a problem. Oh yes.
Besides the highrises, though, this new section was fairly traditional. Red and gold were the dominant colors, of course, with the flat water roofs and flame eaves to match his memories of the capital city within the caldera. But given the speed of its construction, he was impressed to see how wide the streets were-back home, the expansion had given rise to some very cramped quarters indeed, with some neighborhoods having little more than alleys to serve them. Much like the Lower Ring of Ba Sing Se, and he'd shuddered at some of the neighborhoods he had passed through when that section had been full to the brim with refugees. He asked Jorun about that, too, and got a shrug and a small smile.
"The Fire Lord has ruled that all streets on the island must be wide enough for two komodo rhinos to easily pass each other," he murmured, barely enough to be heard over the street activity. "The test is rather straightforward. Two komodo rhinos pass each other, and shove any offending structures out of the way."
Ouch. That explains it.
They reached the slopes of the caldera before too long, the path full of switchbacks and curves like the one leading from the Fire Navy base. Sokka was particularly glad to be in the palanquin at this moment, but felt sorry for the servants carrying him, so like any good leader he coaxed and encouraged them. "Come on, we're almost there!" he called out, leaning out to one side and thumping the front right bearer on the shoulder. "Soon we'll be going downhill! Just hang on, you can do it!" he added, switching sides to give the rear left bearer a grin and a thumbs up.
"Dad!" his head snapped towards his daughter's voice. "They'd have it easier if you weren't throwing your weight all over the place!" Her curtains had been mostly closed during the walk, but she had drawn aside the curtain behind her and was glaring rather meaningfully over her shoulder.
Oh. Right. He sat in the dead center of his seat. "Yay. Go Team Palanquin." He turned his head to watch the panorama of the city spread below them as they went around a hairpin curve. They were a good distance up the slope, yet they were only now passing the roofs of the tallest highrises. Amazing.
Soon enough they were up and over the rim of the caldera, passing guards that scrutinized everyone carefully before waving them through. Sokka's breath hitched a little at the sight of the capital city below them. It was like stepping back in time. He almost felt fifteen again, looking down into this crater for the first time, still not believing that he was there as both victor and honored guest, that the war was over. Nothing he could see had changed since then. The streets were wide and grand, the buildings ornate with deep red, shining gold and whitewashed sides. It was almost painful to look at under the glaring sun, but he couldn't look away. It was like an anchor in a turbulent sea. Maybe some things never change after all.
They descended into the caldera. The people here were far more differential, moving aside quickly and bowing with eyes closed and hands in the Flame until they were passed, then hurrying on. Once or twice he caught the eye of some official or servant as they waited for them to pass, but he couldn't sense the mood here as easily as in the civilian streets. Officials and servants were always in a hurry; it didn't matter if the issue at hand was a lack of jasmine tea or an all-out attack. Although the palace may consider the lack of tea a higher priority these days. Sokka drank in the city, marveling at how much he remembered after two decades, even spotting bushes he swore he remembered from the last time he was here. This was where he most strongly associated euphoria with, the place where he had been reunited with Dad and the invasion forces and had partied for weeks straight as they planned how to rebuild the world. Nothing had seemed impossible, because they had beaten the impossible. Nothing was out of their grasp.
And, lost in these recollections, Sokka missed how Kya's palanquin had slowed and pulled level with him. Kya's curtains were drawn aside now, and she was looking at her father with a soft expression. "Remembering the good old days?" she asked.
Sokka shook himself and smiled at her. "Yeah." Then he looked ahead and saw they had arrived at their destination.
Their bearers set the palanquins on the ground at the base of the low steps leading up into the palace and Sokka climbed out and began thanking and congratulating his on a job well done. "Work out the stiffness, that's right, get blood back in your arms, I know it was difficult, hey, is that a bruise? Oh, that'll be when I was moving around too fast, sorry about that-" Kya drifted over to his side after a shy and awkward "thank you" to her thugs. Jorun waited off to one side, letting Sokka clap his bearers once or twice on the shoulders and shake their arms to help the circulation to their obvious discomfort and shock before striding forward.
"If you would be so kind, please follow me to the audience chamber. The Fire Lord is-oh. Well, he's here."
Sokka's head swung around, and his jaw dropped a little. A tall, broadshouldered figure in robes of red and gold, the Golden Flames atop his topknot, was striding down the steps and landings. Tall, taller than Sokka and a tad broader, with jet black hair draped down his back and short, pointed goatee, and golden eyes that blazed with warmth. Sokka couldn't help glancing at the right eye before meeting the gaze squarely. This was it. This was Fire Lord-
"Zuko!" he yelled, closing the distance between them at a run and bearhugging him. He felt ribs creak a little, but after the briefest of moments Zuko was returning the full strength of the hug, a deep laugh booming. He broke the hug and whacked the taller man on the shoulder. It didn't faze him at all, he was pleased to see. "Good to see you, man!" he gushed, a dazzling smile on his face.