pride: (n) consciousness of one's own dignity


The annual five-day winter games at the South Pole is an event enjoyed by men and children of all ages. There are dog sled races, ice fishing, otter-penguin sledding, eating contests and even zebra seal hunting. No bending allowed, by decree of Chief Sokka!

The Polar Games, as they are often referred to, have gained unprecedented popularity and prestige since the end of the war. People from all over the world travel to the South Pole to participate in the event. However, this is the first year a firebender has participated; or, more specifically, this is the first time a Fire Lord has been invited to enter the competition.

Against his better judgement, Zuko lets Sokka convince him to enter the games. Of course, if he'd known how insanely competitive Sokka can get when it comes to sports, Zuko would have never set foot on the icy continent. But he joins in the games all the same, despite the fact that it's completely out of his element, both literally and metaphorically, and finds that while he's average at some events, he's downright pathetic at others.

The last event of the evening is called 'build your own igloo', which sounds simple enough, yet it really isn't—at least not for Zuko. Each contestant has until sunset to finish his construction. The judges then tally and total each participant's scores for the entire week and the overall winner is announced the following evening.

Zuko, who is behind yet again, is working late into the night. The moon above is his only source of light as he toils relentlessly in the bitter, unforgiving cold.

"I thought you were going home," Katara says, watching Zuko cut misshapen blocks with his saw-knife while cursing colourful expletives she's never heard before.

"I am home," he mutters, placing the block of snow next to the others. "I'm just feathering the nest."

"I can see that." She hides her grin behind a gloved hand and then points down at the semi-circular structure. "So is this your igloo?"

"What does it look like?" Zuko snaps, carving out yet another oddly-shaped block.

"A dirty pile of snow?" She shrugs and then slowly circles his encampment. "You do know that igloos are different from children's snow-forts, right?"

He stops his sawing and pitches Katara a dirty scowl. "No comments from the peanut gallery. Shouldn't you be saving baby seals or something?"

"Hey, I came to check up on you." She brings her other arm around from behind her back, revealing a large mug in her hand. "If you don't want this cup of tea, I can take it to someone else."

"No, wait!" He's already on his feet. His cheeks are already flushed from the cold. "I could really use some tea right now. I'd like to wash the taste of sea prunes out of my mouth."

He makes a face and Katara laughs, handing him the cup of cold tea, which he quickly heats in his hands. He's not supposed to use firebending—Sokka made that perfectly clear about a half dozen times before and during the games—but Zuko figures heating his tea this one time won't help him win the last event of the games.

He brings the jasmine tea to his lips and smiles as he drinks. The hot liquid coats his stomach and warms his frostbitten skin. Katara takes a seat next to him on the snow and glances over at his awkward pile of snow blocks.

He winces. "It's horrible, isn't it?"

Katara shrugs uncertainly. "It's not bad for your first try."

"Yeah," he agrees without much conviction, before taking another sip of tea. "Sokka's already done, isn't he?"

"He finished hours ago," she says. "He's already back at the hut, bragging." She places her gloved hands on her thighs and looks up at the star-studded sky. "Sokka always wins these things—mainly because he is the oldest boy in our tribe and girls aren't allowed to participate."

Zuko snorts. "Yeah, you'd definitely win this thing if you were in it, bending or not."

Katara offers him a warm smile before punching him affectionately on the shoulder like Toph would. Except Katara's punches are actually gentle and playful and won't leave a bruise on his arm the size of her fist the next day.

"You know—" her voice is an upwards inflection and Zuko just knows he's in for one of those hopeful, optimistic pep talks "—for a firebender, and for someone who isn't used to the cold and the snow, you're doing a lot better than most people here thought you would."

Zuko rolls his eyes at the backhanded compliment. "Gee, that's a comforting thought."

"But I've had faith in you all along," she says with that beaming smile of hers, and Zuko's ears begin to burn. "You really don't give up."

He nods shyly at the compliment and then tips back his cup, draining the last of the tea. "Well, I had better get back to work." He stands up and hands her the cup, their gloved fingers touching. "Thanks, Katara."

"Good luck, Zuko." She says it with absolute sincerity, and he's appreciative of that. But then a mischievous grin surfaces on her lips. "I may or may not kick a hole in Sokka's igloo on my way back."

Zuko laughs, a hearty bark of laughter, and watches Katara turn. She curtly waves to him before trudging down the snowy path back to her hut. He's suddenly very thankful that he's never been in direct competition with her. Sokka he can handle. However, his pride would never recover from the thorough ass-kicking that Katara would likely give him.