A/N: Alright, the beginning is over and so is the depressing stuff. It's time to pick this thing up and get the plot moving! While the beginning is a wrap-up of the sad aspects, I hope you find that we're beginning to find the path of plot.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Happy Reading!
Chapter Three – In Secret
Good Friend
Loving Husband
Caring Father
Strong Leader
Services were always the same. Same inscriptions, same eulogy, same attire. What Katara found was that funerals never did their subjects any justice, and they were never run by people who knew the dead person well enough to make a good eulogy. This funeral was no exception. Sure, mountains of people from all over the world had come to pay their 'last respects' to the Great Avatar who helped to change the world, but those people hardly knew him.
All in all, the service was alright. Katara thought that the best part – and possibly the only good part – had been Toph's Earthbending a little extra segment underneath the usual mumbo-jumbo of depressing comments and the comments on Aang's great achievements as the Avatar:
A terrible cook with a short attention span and a heart big enough to make up for it.
Yes, Toph, Sokka, and Katara had shared a mighty laugh over this particular segment. Even now, when Katara thought of the words 'attention span' she heard the word "PENGUIN!" echo through her head in Aang's voice.
And then there was Kiyodu, who had come all the way from the Southern Air Temple to attend his father's service. At the age of eight, the boy understood the significance of the event and the events that would soon occur thereafter. He'd sat between Sokka and Katara and held his mother's hand through the entire ordeal.
-
"Mom?"
In the kitchen, Katara stopped her conversation with Sokka, turned to face her son, and was struck again by just how much he resembled Aang. Kiyodu wore the traditional monk attire, courtesy of Aang's teachings, and bore a shaved head with an arrow atop it in representation of his Airbending mastery. The resemblance was so strong, in fact, that when she'd first seen him coming up the street with his staff, she'd almost mistaken him for Aang. In a way, they were almost the same person. Then again, Aang had never been able to develop a taste for stewed sea prunes.
"Yeah?"
Kiyodu turned his staff sideways in his hands and twiddled his thumbs nervously. "Does all this –" Katara noticed his determination in not mentioning death "– mean that I'm the last Airbender?"
Katara sighed and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Yes," she replied, "But, perhaps, not for long." When she said this, Kiyodu looked up at her with a questioning expression. Katara smiled and got down on one knee in front of him. "I'm going to have a baby, Kiyodu."
A moment of silence followed.
His face brightened and he exclaimed, "Really? That's great! Maybe he'll be an Airbender like me, and I can teach him how to make an Air Scooter and play Airball!"
"Yes, maybe you can," she answered. Clearly the boy had forgotten that the baby could be a girl, but she didn't have the heart to remind him at the time. Instead, she shot Sokka a significant glance and he nodded once to show that he understood. A smirk was evident upon his face.
"But there's something else," she added hastily, before Kiyodu could get further off track. He fell silent. "I don't want you to tell anybody about this, okay? Not a soul."
He made a confused face. "How come?"
Unsure of what to say, Katara didn't reply. Sokka, on the other hand, came to the rescue just in time.
"Because we don't know if we can keep it," said Sokka, stepping forward until he was beside his sister. He and Katara shared a look that the young boy missed. Katara mouthed the word 'we?' and Sokka shrugged as if to say, "You're my sister".
"How come?"
"Because…" Sokka drifted off and glanced in Katara's direction. "The king might make a child limit because of… of…"
"Overpopulation," Katara finished.
This time, the siblings' smirks were apparent. Apparent enough for Kiyodu to roll his eyes at the ceiling and sigh loudly.
"Alright, I get it," he said, annoyed by the lack of trust. "I won't tell anybody."
-
The night after Katara's startling premonition, she'd told Sokka exactly what had happened, minus the more sentimental aspects of the ordeal. Much to her surprise, he'd shown no skepticism, though he'd seemed mortally offended that she hadn't gotten him awake to say goodbye to Aang ("I mean come on, Katara, I was in the next room over! You could have given me a kick in the ribs or something!").
In addition, he'd elected to hang around the house for a while in order to maintain order and keep things moving in the house. While this was his excuse, she knew better than to believe itt. Or, at least, she knew better than to believe that 'maintaining order' was the only reason that he'd chosen to stay. For one, he'd had a falling out with Suki, and he most probably wanted to make sure that she, Katara, could still function through her daily routine. And she could. She had to now.
"First thing's first," muttered Katara to herself as she sat, cross-legged, on her bed. An unfurled scroll and an ink bottle stood ready in front of her. "I need to contact the masters I'll need in order to make this happen. If I can't, then I might as well say goodbye to –"
"Talking to yourself again?"
Startled, Katara jumped and whirled around to see her brother standing in the doorway with his machete in one hand and a sharpening tool in the other. She harrumphed and crossed her arms before turning away from him.
"I've found that the only person I can have a civilized conversation with is myself," she replied haughtily, fighting a smirk.
Sokka held up his full hands as a sign of surrender. "Okay, alright, I get it. I'll leave you alone with yourself."
For a moment she made to stop him, but she held herself back. Instead, she yelled at his retreating back, "Do you still consider yourself to be a brave warrior, Sokka?"
He stopped in the doorway, turned around, and made a face. "Of course I do," he replied. "I am a warrior."
"I see." A small smile graced her lips. "How would you like to be the Avatar's personal trainer? For non-Bending training, that is."
Sokka grinned, dropped his weapon, got down on his knees in mock praise, and made as if worshiping his younger sister. Katara laughed.
"Oh worthy sister, how can I ever repay you for allowing this honor?" he begged jokingly.
"Well, you can start by cleaning out Appa's shed," Katara replied airily, closing her eyes and turning back to her scroll with meditative poise.
The grin on Sokka's face quickly turned to a scowl, but he nevertheless climbed back to his feet, scooped up his machete, and marched out the door. Katara grinned and went to work.
A/N: The quality of this chapter makes me very sad, but it will get better, I promise. D:
