A/N: Written for the prompt 'celebration'

Transfer

Everyone else had long since gone to sleep. The Southern Water Tribe settlement, more than just a collection of skin tents and a few ice huts now, a thriving city in fact, small compared to that of the North, but still growing, was silent.

Hakoda, appearing a bit wobbly, grinned happily and stared across at his son. They sat together on a pile of furs, drinks in hand, privately celebrating the transfer of power from one to the other.

"You all right, Dad?" Sokka asked. His blue eyes twinkled and he reached over and gave the fifty-five year old a solid punch in the shoulder. "I thought you could hold your liquor better than that."

"I'm just fine, son," Hakoda retorted, holding out his cup. "Pour me some more. This day, this moment, is one I never want to forget. You're the chief of our tribe, the leader that everyone will look to for guidance. And I know that you'll do a great job."

The younger man squished his eyes shut tight. He did not want to cry, but the tears were there. He'd experienced more than his share of joyful occasions. There was his marriage to Suki and the birth of their three children. He'd watched as his sister, Katara, blossomed even further, married Aang and had her own family. And his friends, each of them happy in their own way, provided plenty of moments to treasure.

But this day, a special one for both father and son, and Tui, he loved his father, was different, and one day he would pass the title of chief onto his son…or daughter. Sokka liked to keep an open mind these days. Suki insisted.


A/N: written for the prompt 'yellow' and just a bit sappy.

Everyone has a Colour

Born and raised in the Southern Water Tribe, all Katara knew of colour, besides the yellow of the sun and the red of destruction, was blue, blue in its seemingly infinite varieties. The sky above, the ocean and its creatures that gave them life and the few flowers that dared to bloom in the spring; plants that gave them dye for their clothing, also blue. She knew absence of colour too; the white of the clouds and the snow and the ice, the black of the endless night.

When Aang came into her life, changing it irrevocably, he brought colour along with his naïve joy. His clothes were orange and yellow, bright and cheerful like he was. And when Katara and her brother decided to travel with him, out into the remainder of the wide world, everything, including shades of all colours imaginable opened up before her.

The green of the forests was vibrant and fresh, the purples of fruits delightful, the browns of the earth varied and the reds of anything that wasn't Fire Nation bold and enticing. The young waterbender was surrounded by colour now and she quickly grew to love it, wondering if she would ever be content with just blue again.

Innocently one day, after the war was over, Aang asked Katara what her favorite colour was. She did not hesitate in her response.

"Yellow," she declared firmly.

The young man before her stood resplendent in his yellow monk's robes.

"Not blue?" he wondered.

"No, because yellow is you."