breathing together
CH 02. Chief Hakoda
Hakoda, his flower, and Toph: Ordinary Solace,
"Flowers seem intended for the solace of ordinary humanity."
He often wondered, toyed with the idea, if she was with him – in spirit, because her body could no longer be. He questioned where she was, and whether was happy. Those were the things he learned to keep to himself, though: insecurity, loneliness, and apprehensions, securely fastened away where his children could never find them. There was no need for three people to think of those things – one person was enough. However, when they lay asleep in a pile of snoring bodies, he was free to express himself to the rising sun, and found comfort in that fact. Snow was giving way to malachite weeds, which towered high and stemmed upwards from the thawing Earth. He released a sigh, slumped his shoulders, and spoke:
"My flower, how are you today?" He spoke softly to his wife. There was not a reply, but Hakoda did not seem to mind in the least, continuing.
"The children are becoming so strong, dear, because they know what's at stake now." His voice betrayed subtle doubt and worry, uncertain whether or not children, avatar or not, could handle the daunting task ahead – overthrowing Fire Lord Ozai. With a second release of breath, the chief glanced to his side, where a small figure knelt, cradling a dandelion. With an inward chuckle, Hakoda smoothed his beard. The girl said nothing, paying no mind to the contemplating leader. For a moment, he thought she did not even notice his presence with her blind eyes.
"I wonder if some of them are strong enough, love." Hakoda yawned briskly, turning in his place to witness Toph breathe the dandelion fibers away. "I wonder if they are ready or not." Sokka and Aang had raved for weeks about the strength of the girl before him, despite born handicaps and a fragile appearance. He had briefly seen her training the avatar, and, since that moment, he shared their confidence in her.
With an incomprehensible speed, the young bender called the Earth to her will, and was pushed to her feet. After bidding the last fibers goodbye, Toph disregarded Hakoda, leaving his side.
"I wonder who you really think isn't strong enough," Toph said, and that was all she had to say.
With a grin, the chieftain smiled intensely. Tearing a new flower from it's place, he withdrew the fragrance and spoke,
"Maybe I'm the one not strong enough, my dear wife."
Hakoda and Katara: Midnight Preservation,
"Sometimes there is no darker place than our thoughts, the moonless midnight of the mind."
Midnight was an hour he had always been well acquainted with; Hakoda was always keenly awake, stirring while others slept. It had been habit since his youth, when fighting in the war between nations became a constant occupation, one that called for caution and awareness. He had still never learned to sleep properly, and thus he and midnight were fast companions in no time at all. Generally, their friendship was a duo, until recently. His only daughter, Katara, he noticed, became the second of the midnight hour, tip-toeing about the temple of the Air Nomads.
And, for the third time in the past week, father confronted daughter in a hushed whisper.
"Katara?" He questioned from behind her. Startled by the intrusion of the temple's usual midnight silence, the water bender jumped, and, by habit, twisted her body into water bending forms. Katara turned to glimpse her father, stunned. After Hakoda rested his hand on her shoulder, motioning it was only he, she settled and muttered a swift apology, gasped out of her lulling dream. Again, Hakoda frowned, worried. After moments of silence, standing in the dimmly lit paths, Hakoda placed his strong arm over Katara's shoulders, and began a slow pace, trailing her tired body along.
"What's troubling you, Katara?" The leader spoke in a deep voice, supporting his daughter with a strong arm.
He briefly glanced to catch her expression, recognizing a look he was familiar with himself, especially at this particular hour: fear. With a tremble in her voice, Katara squeaked her next words with effort. "It's ... nothing, dad. It's ... nothing" The bender stopped in her steps, grasping her own arms, struggling to lie, and shivering in the post winter air. She shuddered, remembering her dream. Katara dreamed about the old woman again – the one who changed her, the one who made her think things that she did not want to think. The one who taught her the unforgiving evils of blood bending.
With an unsatisfied breath, Hakoda nodded and held his daughter again. Father held daughter as she sunk low to the ground, crying hard, but refusing to say.
She would tell him in her own time, he mused, crying with daughter.
Hakoda, Appa, and Momo: It comes with age,
"You can't help getting older, but you don't have to get old."
He just could not keep up with them – in haste, labor, and especially in conversation! When one minute his son spoke of "Hawky", which would be a story for another time and place, the other moment the prince of Pai Sho and Oolong Tea, and his daughter of her disgust of Papaya, he felt as though he had been deprived a great deal. And, indeed he had. With a grunt, the chief realized he was getting old, and he did not like it. He grunted lowly again, only capturing the attention of Toph, who was sensetive to every noise of her surroundings. He was not a grandfather age, nor an ancient age, but father-of-two-almost-grown-children age, which, still, did not sit amazingly well with Hakoda. Not well in the least
As his mind boggled with the mention of Sokka's cross dressing days, which sent the Kiyoshi girl into fits of laughter, Hakoda took it upon himself to be excused – no one noticed. He would hear the origins of his son in a skirt some other time, which begged some explanation to the father. When he left the thought of Sokka's dress behind him, Hakoda gazed towards the tips of the outgrown earth, aweing the sun at half set, half awake and half asleep. He, like the sun, was half awake and half asleep, tired – it came with age, he supposed, a thought that he soon retracted. Getting old did not sit well with him. Not well at all.
After pacing a good ways from the group, out towards an eroded balcony, Hakoda came upon a large being with it's legs sprawled numerously. Adjusting his sight to the new lighting, he confirmed the creature to be the avatar's sky bison, Appa, with a lemur rested on his read. With a chuckle, in likewise company, the chieftain rested against the massive body of Appa, only warranting a hushed yawn from the mass.
"We're getting older, friend," Hakoda yawned to Appa, receiving a subtle roar in return from the bison. Momo emitted a high-pitched nonsensical sound, in return, which cost Hakoda a smile. As if to say, but not old, Appa added a short groan. Within seconds, Momo concurred the none-statement with a wild squeal that echoed into Hakoda's ears. Hakoda nodded, and rested more easily against Appa's fur.
"I guess so, friends." He stretched out. "Our kind of wisdom must come with age."
From Hakoda's conclusion, Appa growled, and Momo glided past Hakoda's eyes in unrest.
The chief corrected himself. "I mean, with experience."
© Disclaimer: I own nothing from Avatarverse,
or any of the pretty quotes used. All characters, places, and
quotes remain the intellectual and creative property of whoever
they belong to, which, if you did not catch, is not me.
Dear, FF.NAZI, I love you, yet hate you for your formatting stupidity. The End. Oh, also, Hakoda is one of my favorite Avatarverse characters - so, you should like him, too. Write more about him, got it? There is not enough about this epic water tribe chief. The content in these chapters are still for the amazing wives Suki and Ana, who are amazing. Amazing. and EPIC. Tally ho!
Next Chapter: Teo.
¤ composed by lunamaria.
