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...um...mid-2007? Takes place when Hakoda was fourteen. Remember "Bato of the Water Tribe," where Bato was reminiscing with Sokka and Katara, and he told them about how he and Hakoda had impersonated a water spirit? This is my version of how that little scenario played out. Oh, and I wrote it so that Khana is Kya's mother, not Hakoda's, even though I'm not sure if Khana is the paternal or maternal grandmother of Sokka and Katara. The horizontal lines represent passage of time. Read 'n' review!
Warning for mention of corporal punishment.
Hakoda's Misadventure
"I've seen that look before. You're plotting something."
Hakoda shot his friend a mischievous grin. "You know me too well, Bato."
"Well, I hope it's not something that's going to get us into trouble. I'm still recovering from my last run-in with a sealskin lash."
"The false avalanche was child's play compared to what's coming next," Hakoda promised. He gave an exaggerated sigh. "But, if you're afraid of another lashing, I guess you won't want to join me. . ."
"Fish heads," Bato contradicted snappishly. "I'm not about to let you run off half-cocked without an accomplice."
"Just what I wanted to hear," Hakoda said. With the air of someone about to reveal a grand secret, he whispered, "Have you ever considered impersonating a water spirit?"
A half-hour later found them floating in their canoe in a deserted inlet near the village.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Bato asked doubtfully. He and his friend were waiting for a likely-looking candidate to swim beneath them along the sandbar.
Pausing to adjust the harpoon on his shoulder, Hakoda said matter-of-factly, "We're young, we're handsome, and the world is our oyster-clam."
"What does that have to do with . . ." Bato's voice trailed off as comprehension lit his face. "You're trying to impress Kya, aren't you?"
"Lucky guess," Hakoda returned, grinning, his eyes still fixed on the pool.
"You know, you could just give her a lupine trillium," Bato pointed out.
At that moment, Hakoda pounced. His harpoon entered the water with barely a ripple. When he pulled it out, an octopus dangled from it by one long tentacle.
"Flowers are boring!" Hakoda scoffed, making short work of the octopus with his dagger. Then he began to eviscerate his prey, throwing the innards into the water.
"But why would doing this impress her?"
"It impresses you, doesn't it?" Hakoda replied, as though that settled the matter.
Bato rolled his eyes. "In case you hadn't noticed, I'm a boy, not a girl. Girls are interested in different things, I think."
"What do you know about girls?" Hakoda argued sensibly. He held up the octopus, stretching it experimentally before slipping it over his head. He had removed the jelly-like eyeballs, and now his own sky-colored eyes blinked bizarrely from behind the empty sockets. It was a perfect effect; his head truly resembled that of a water spirit.
"Well, you look great," Bato admitted, "but from the neck down everyone's gonna know it's you."
"Leave that to me," Hakoda answered, his voice muffled from behind his freshly-made mask. "You just concentrate on doing the spooky voice."
The citizens of the little Water Tribe village stared at the strange being making its way toward Khana's hut. Where its head should have been, there was only an octopus. Instead of furs, it wore seaweed and fish netting wrapped around itself. Gliding along through the snow, it was a fearsome sight to behold. Some of the youngest children fled to their mothers, and even the adults drew back slightly. The creature stepped through the opening to Khana's dwelling, its footsteps short, clipped, and purposeful.
Khana gasped as she looked up from her mending, causing Hakoda to smirk behind his mask. She was completely terrified! Everything was going perfectly according to plan. He allowed her to stare at him for long moments and find her voice.
"What are you?" Her voice was steady, although her hands shook.
"What, indeed?" Bato's hissing voice answered from above, right on cue. He was secretly perched on the roof above, speaking through a tiny opening in the ice and magnifying his voice by talking through a seashell.
"I am a spirit of the water." The untrue statement reverberated around the tiny one-room hut.
"Can you prove that you are a water spirit?" Khana asked, her eyes narrowing by a barely perceptible margin. Hakoda knew that she was suspecting a trick.
"YOU DARE ASK ME TO PROVE MYSELF TO YOU, MORTAL WOMAN?" Bato boomed out from above. He was really outdoing himself this time. "I AM THE WATER THAT BRINGS YOU THE FOOD IN YOUR BELLY AND THE CLOTHES ON YOUR BACK! I HAVE BEEN MERCIFUL, AND HAVE FAITHFULLY PROVIDED FOR YOUR VILLAGE, BUT YOU HAVE GONE TOO FAR! NOT ONLY DO YOU NOT BOW DOWN BEFORE ME, BUT YOU DARE TO QUESTION MY POWER! YOU AND YOUR PEOPLE SHALL FEEL MY WRATH!"
"Oh—no—please, great water spirit," Khana begged, kneeling before Hakoda: Bato had obviously managed to convince her, and convince her well. She now pressed her pale face to the ground. "I beg your forgiveness, and I implore you to have mercy. Please, spare us, great spirit— "
"I SHALL BRING UPON THESE PEOPLE SUCH A TYPHOON THAT ALL WILL BE DESTROYED!" Bato thundered.
"Have mercy," Khana moaned, still bowing low. "Great spirit—I beg you—this village is not to blame. It was I who wronged you; lay the guilt on me instead! Please!"
"NONE SHALL ESCAPE ME! ALL SHALL COME TO RUIN! DEATH, DESTRUCTION, AND UTTER ANNIHILATION SHALL BE YOURS! FEEL THE WRATH OF THE MIGHTY—"
Without warning, the roof caved in, unable to bear Bato's weight. In a shower of fluffy snow he fell onto Hakoda, knocking him flat. Stunned by the fall, the two unfortunates lay on the ground while Khana rose slowly to her feet.
"Hakoda, is that you behind the octopus?" she asked, her voice ominous. The two boys disentangled themselves as Hakoda pulled the clever mask off. She grabbed them both by the ears and dragged them out into the sunlight.
"You two must think it very funny, scaring the living daylights out of a woman," she said coldly. "Well, let's see how funny your parents find it."
The worst part of the day, for Hakoda, at least, wasn't the tongue-lashing he received from his mother, or even the sealskin lashing he received from his father. It was the look he saw on Kya's face as he was dragged past her by the ear. He didn't know which was more unbearable: her amusement or her pity.
Hakoda slouched dispiritedly past the huts, heading for the sea, where he could be alone. He needed to take his canoe far out into the icebergs, where no one could see him burn with shame.
He had made it to the beach and was in the process of shoving his canoe into the water, when he heard Kya's voice from behind him.
"What are you doing out here so late?"
He turned to see her standing outlined in the moonlight, as beautiful as ever, with her waist-length braids twisting in the chill wind.
"I should ask you the same thing," he replied evasively.
"I was following you," she admitted.
"Come to mock me like the rest?" Hakoda muttered.
"No. I thought what you did today was pretty amazing."
"Amazingly pathetic," he grunted, scowling.
She laughed. "Maybe. But . . .it was pretty brave, too."
He stared at her, trying to decide if she was making fun of him or not.
"I'm serious," she said earnestly. "I never would have had the courage to try to fool Mom like that." She grinned. "And I've never heard Mom sound so scared. It was a great joke."
"A joke's only great if it works," Hakoda answered stubbornly.
"Can't you accept a compliment?" Kya asked, starting to sound irritated. "You're funny, you're clever, and you're brave. Who cares about the joke?"
Had she come all the way out here just to compliment him? Perhaps he wasn't as pathetic as he'd thought—perhaps he had managed to impress her, after all.
"You're strong, you're talented, and you're beautiful," he whispered in return.
"Maybe you're better at giving compliments than receiving them," she murmured with one of her slow, demure smiles that he loved so much.
He held out his mittened hand. "May I walk you home?"
She took his hand without a word, and they walked back to the village together in the cold moonlight.
~The End~