Disclaimer: I own nothing you might recognise from the series.
Notes: Crayon's Pink was the one who'd asked for Sokka and Hakoda PoVs, and at this date I don't have anything more detailed than that. However, I think there were a few points where I added in extra PoV bits when people just said, "I want more X PoV." I think this is one of them. So, Hakoda and Sokka. Actually, this picks up right after the last entry left off.
Of course he just had to realise moments after seeing Katara off that his son was going to be at the centre of the battle.
"You ready to go, Dad?" Sokka asked as he threw bundles onto the back of the bison that would be carrying him, Suki and Toph to the front lines where the Fire Lord was planning to burn the Earth Kingdom from his fleet of airships.
"Are you?" he threw the question back. His readiness wasn't at issue. When they'd gone to retake Ba Sing Se his son and daughter had been going on a surgical strike. That meant they weren't going to be in the middle of a battle, and they were travelling through a city of disabled firebenders. This time, he and his men were to be dropped at Ba Sing Se a second time for a second attempt while his son was going to be running headlong at airships filled with firebenders at several times their normal strength.
Sokka didn't seem worried. "As ready as a rabbaroo in a pile of raspberries," answered his son.
"Really, Sokka?" Hakoda asked.
Bato, wandering past, said, "He's just like you."
"Go find someone else to bother," Hakoda told his best friend. Bato gave him a salute that was mostly just a very rude gesture and went off to inflict himself on the rest of the warriors.
Unnervingly, Sokka just looked understanding. "I get it, you know? I'm worried about Katara and Aang, and I'm worried about bringing Toph to a fight in the air." He sighed. "I'm really worried about Zuko, since he's gonna be facing off with his crazy sister."
"I know you think you understand, son," Hakoda said, "But you don't. Yes, the way I worried about Bato after his brother died was . . . terrifying. I know you feel that way about Zuko and I am glad you have found a friend who is to you what Bato is to me. There are few things to equal that sort of powerful friendship, a bond that is as close as family - closer even, sometimes."
Smiling, a little teary-eyed, Sokka smiled at him. "I'm glad you think so."
"But it is different when it is your children, and it is something I hope that you will not experience soon, if ever." Hakoda explained. "You and Katara are a part of me, you both come from me and your mother in a way nothing and no one else ever will. That fear, of seeing the ones who you held as babies, who relied on you in all things and trusted you to make everything right - that fear of seeing you hurt, or worse, there is nothing more overpowering and frightening."
Sokka didn't quite know what to say to that. His father had never spoken like this to him. There had been the assurances of what it truly meant to be a man, there had been hugs and love and comfort as a child, there had been the words he'd longed to hear from his father for so long, "Sokka, I am so proud of you." He'd been asked to take care of Katara, watch and protect the tribe, protect the Avatar, but this was a different sort of honesty. It was something . . . it was like when his father had deemed him an equal on the battlefield and free to join the warriors of the Tribe, but it was different from that too. It was a conversation of equals as people. Not just in the aspect of the warrior, but as a full person in his own right. It was sort of scary. But he didn't want his dad dwelling on that right then either.
"You're right, I can't imagine that, and I hope I don't have to anytime soon because Suki would probably murder me," he said, careful to keep his response not too heavy. "But I'm asking you to trust me as a warrior of the Tribe to take the risks everyone else takes and that I know my strengths and limitations."
His dad sighed. "It won't help in the least if I say that I trust you, it's just all the firebenders on the other side I don't trust, will it?"
"Nope," Sokka said. "But maybe you can explain why Zuko's mom doesn't feel like that about him." He actually was kinda hoping his dad knew something because at some point it was all too possible Zuko would realise for real that he'd performed a one-man rite of exclusion, and with his sisters being what they were and only General Iroh to rely on he might get a little weird again.
"You and Katara have a strange fixation on that prince," his father complained. "Oh, I know he's your best friend and Katara's . . . involved . . . with him, but really." Then his dad sobered. "I don't know. I know that some people are born . . . not right. They don't think of other people as being real. There was a man in the tribe when I was a child, Siluk was his name. They performed a rite of exclusion on him because he had killed his sister. I was there when it was done and he didn't understand why it had been wrong to take her life for annoying him. It was as though he felt his wants were greater than those of everyone else in the tribe."
Sokka frowned. From his observations Ursa wasn't like that, she was constantly certain what she was doing was for some sort of greater good, but perhaps it was a good place to start finding out what went wrong with her.
A shout went up from the assembled troops. "That's my cue, Dad," he said as he hurried up to their borrowed bison's head. "You get going with the rest of the troops at Ba Sing Se and I'll see you on the other side. Good luck!" he finished.
As they took off, Suki asked, "Are you sure you should leave it like that?"
He took her hand, squeezing it gently, and replied, "He worries. He's like me that way, and this way he won't have time to freak out."
"Just so you know," Toph said, "I think he's probably not gonna be too happy with you for trying to manipulate him. Also, you'd better not get mushy up there when I can't do anything about it."
"Then I'll cross that ice floe when I come to it," Sokka said determinedly.
You'd better be there to be mad at me, Dad.
