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 Koneitzko. And I'm not making money by posting this story.
A/N: DON'T READ THIS PARAGRAPH IF YOU DON'T WANT SPOILERS FOR THE STORY TO FOLLOW! Pretty early work, this story was originally completed June or July, 2006. After I had watched the first season and was beginning to watch the second season, I got to wondering when and how Sokka would reunite with his father (as well as how the Earth finale would play out). So this story explores that. But Toph is AWOL, because I hadn't seen "The Blind Bandit" when I wrote this. I was such an Avatar newbie that I even thought Sokka's dad's name was "Cota"! But I fixed it when I posted the story. The horizontal lines represent passage of time. Read and review!
Sokka's Surprise
Sokka awoke when he heard the soft rush of wind through Aang's glider. He opened his eyes, squinting against the glare of the sun, which was just starting to peep over the cliffs. There was Katara's graceful silhouette, kneeling next to the fire. Aang crouched next to her, whispering something in her ear. It must have been important news, because she rose quickly and ran away from camp, her braid streaming out behind her. Sokka merely rolled over and buried his head in his sleeping bag. She was probably hurrying off to see a waterfall, or something. He, on the other hand, wasn't about to get up until he'd had some decent sleep.
Unfortunately, Aang had different ideas.
Fwoosh. Sokka felt pressure descend on him like an avalanche. Poking his head out angrily into the sunlight, he saw the Avatar plummeting straight toward him from above, poised to Airbend with his staff.
Fwoosh. Aang rode his most recent blast of wind high into the air, while the impact threw Sokka flat on his back.
"Wake up, Sokka!" Aang shouted enthusiastically, now zipping back and forth in his glider.
"You may like waking up at the crack of dawn, Aang, but I—aaaaahhhh!" Sokka stopped talking abruptly and screeched; there was something moving in his sleeping bag! Before he could reach for his dagger, however, the animal emerged—a white lemur. Momo, chittering angrily, flew off in hopes of peace and quiet.
"You tell him, Momo," Sokka agreed.
"If you don't hurry, Katara will get there before you!" Aang sang out from above.
"Get where before me?" Sokka demanded. But Aang, grinning broadly, wouldn't answer. Sokka sighed and began pulling on his boots. He could see that he wasn't going to get any more sleep.
Sokka hoisted himself over the last bluff with a grunt. He had asked Aang where they were going at least once a minute for the last ten minutes. And he got ten similarly vague, frustrating answers, all of them involving the word—
"Hurry!"
Annoyance flared up in him; the kid was starting to make him mad. "Will you stop saying that? It's really getting on my nerves!"
Aang only laughed, shooting ahead on his Air Scooter. Sokka hadn't seen him act this excited since their trip to the Southern Air Temple. He was burning with curiosity about their destination, and hurried faster. Where in the world was Aang leading him? He ran the possibilities through his head. Ba Sing Se? They were close to the Earth Kingdom capital city, but Sokka knew it was at least twenty miles away. No, that suggestion was definitely out. A river, perhaps, or the sea? Both quite possible. He smirked—probably they were going to a cave somewhere, with ancient writing adorning the walls. Or a beautiful rock formation, or a cliff with layers so colorful, that he just had to come see.
Then he noticed Aang had come to a stop at the top of the next rise. For once the Avatar wasn't saying anything, but his face spoke for him. It was alight with eagerness. Sokka ran the last few steps to the top—and drew a shuddering gasp.
His father was standing in the shallow seawater, embracing Katara. The waves whirled around them, millions of droplets sparkling in the sunlight like jewels. Whether Katara was willing it to happen, or causing it unconsciously, Sokka didn't know or care. His father—his father—was back, was alive, was here!
The two in the surf broke apart, Katara beaming joyfully through her tears. Then, Hakoda turned to look up at him, and Sokka started forward, slowly, hesitantly.
He had been longing for this moment for two and a half years. So why wasn't he running? Because he was afraid. How many times had he seen this exact scene in his dreams, only to wake up and find that it was all a lie? How could he be sure that this, too, wasn't a vision in a creepy swamp, or an illusion that his desperate mind concocted to satisfy itself? Then, like an old wound slit open with a knife, the pain would return with a vengeance, and the despair, the yearning, the sorrow. . .
"Sokka." So long, so long he had waited to hear his father call his name. And suddenly he was sprinting over the rock, dust flying from beneath his boots, then sand, then water—and he was there.
Hakoda wrapped strong arms around him, nearly squeezing the breath from his body. And as Sokka buried his face in his father's chest, inhaling the musky, salty scent of the fur garment, it felt as if no time had passed. For a moment, he was a boy once more, trapped in Hakoda's platypus-bear hug.
The tears escaped, though he tried to hold them back. He clung to his father, never wanting to let go. Neither one of them said anything—they didn't need to. It was enough for them simply to be together.
Far too soon, the moment had to end. Hakoda gave him a last squeeze and stepped back. Sokka heard the soft purr of leather as his boomerang was pulled from its case. His father examined it, stroking its polished surface and running his finger lightly along the sharpened edge. He handed it back to his son with a warm smile and nod of approval.
"You've become a fine warrior, Sokka."
Sokka looked at his boots, blushing at the praise.
"And Katara," Hakoda continued, turning to his daughter, "you are truly a Master." Katara beamed with pride.
But no smile could eclipse that of the Last Airbender. Hovering above the ground on a ball of air, he was tracing circles and figure eights on the clifftop above them. Out of the dust he was kicking up, his mile-wide grin shone like a sideways crescent moon. When he noticed he was being watched, he shot down towards them. Perhaps wanting to make an impressive entrance, he leaped gracefully from his Air Scooter, opened his glider, and shifted smoothly into flight. At the instant before he would have crashed into the group, he stopped himself with a burst of wind, landing lightly on his booted feet.
But braggadocio met humility, as he placed a fist into the opposite hand, bowed low, and said quietly, "I'm Aang—and I'm honored to meet you, sir."
"The honor is mine," Hakoda replied with a smile. "Your skills and accomplishments are legendary."
"Well, I definitely wouldn't be here now if it wasn't for Sokka and Katara," Aang admitted with a rather crooked grin. "I don't know what I'd do without them."
Sokka was just fine with being complimented, but Katara insisted on being modest.
"We need each other," she said firmly. "It's teamwork that's helped us get this far."
"And it's teamwork that will help us through the battle to come," Hakoda finished gravely. When met with the questioning stares of the children, he turned and walked along the shoreline, gesturing for them to follow.
They trailed after him for some minutes, with the sea on their right and the bluffs on their left. Scaling cliffs, sliding down steep inclines, and ducking under low shelves of rock, Sokka grew impatient, anxious to know where they were headed. Just when he thought he couldn't take the suspense any longer, the crags retreated sharply, sloping away to the horizon. Sokka gasped for the second time that day.
In front of him lay a natural harbor, sheltered by towering rock walls. And in the water were ships. Dozens of them! Sokka recognized the graceful, curving sails of the vessels in front—it was his father's fleet. The skillfully woven ropes held them at anchor. On the shore was a company of men at least a hundred strong. Some were from the Northern Water Tribe, and others were men that hadn't been seen in the Southern Water Tribe for two years. Aang, Katara, and Sokka gazed, mouths agape.
And if this surprised them, it was nothing to what came next.
"The city of Ba Sing Se needs our help," Hakoda said soberly, "in their final stand against the Firebenders. We received word yesterday that Fire Lord Ozai has ordered a last, furious attack. He plans to break the Earth Kingdom's defenses where their resistance is strongest." He turned to them, sadness in his eyes. "We ask for the help of you three warriors, to sail into battle with us, so that together, we may fight for our freedom."
A long silence followed. Sokka's thoughts crashed around his head like waves on an iceberg. To meet his father again, at long last, then to have to risk his life—all their lives—in battle, seemed almost unthinkable. Yet he knew that there was no choice in the matter. If people were in danger, he needed to help them—no questions asked.
"When do we sail?" came Aang's soft voice from beside him. Their minds were made up, and the Avatar knew it: he was merely voicing the question they were all thinking.
"At dawn," Hakoda answered simply. And there was nothing more to say.
They all paused apprehensively to watch the red sun sink into the ocean, the men and children each thinking of the task ahead. And as he felt his father's arm warm around him, Sokka felt defiant, courageous, ready.
He would show those Firebenders what happened when they messed with Sokka of the Water Tribe!
~The End~