Chapter 30: The Importance of Proper Introductions

"We need to figure out titles before we get there," snapped the world's grumpiest sleeping bag. "And for the last time, you are not my father."

Sokka was trying very hard to listen and take his nephson's concerns seriously, but. But he was just so grumpy. And completely sleeping-bag-wrapped, like a big blue caterpillar-turtle with lemur ears on top. Zuko, his brilliant little fire-child, had forgotten to pack his arctic coat when he'd gone a-treasonin'. Sorry: when he'd joined Team Avatar as an advisor.

"I have previously established my favorable views on being your Crazy Uncle," Sokka said, resisting the urge to poke at all that grump, just to see if it would grumble-ooze out its seams. Resist, resist. "So we'll just introduce Katara as your mom—"

"The waterbender is not my mother!" the little rage-ball fumed. Literally. Steam rose out of the sleeping bag's top. Momo purred, his ears relaxing in the kind of contentment that honestly made Sokka a little bit jealous. The lemur and the hawk had their own personal prince-sauna, while the rest of them just had Appa's breezy backside.

"Young man," Sokka said, "that is no way to address your mother."

"I am loyal to my father and I had the best mom and neither of you are either of them."

"And the Northern Tribe probably has a lot of ice flows where a non-tribe firebender could sleep with the turtle-seals. Com'on, just pick: dad or mom. Like you said, we'd better get this sorted before we get there."

The steam continued. Sokka was getting tempted to hold his hands over it, just for a wee bit of mitten-warming, when his nephson stuck his head out just far enough to make proper glare-y eyes. A suddenly exposed Momo chittered reproachfully and dove down the back of Zuko's collar, leaving only fantastically mused hair-spikes and a firebender who was already starting to shiver without his self-heating lemur-hat.

"You're not my parents," the prince said. And pulled the sleeping bag back up over his head, leaving only his golden eyes exposed. He mumbled something into the fabric over his mouth.

"That started with a 'but'," Sokka prompted.

"...But Fire Lord Azulon ordered my death so if Hakoda wants to be my new grandfather—GET OFF!"

"The rules have been clearly established," Sokka said, keeping his arms wraped firmly around the squirming bundle. "Every time you casually say something mind-bogglingly traumatic, you get a hug."

"How am I supposed to know what's traumatic!"

This was a frustrated exclamation more than a question, but nevertheless, Sokka answered it. With more hugs. And the gleeful realization that his nephson was far too bundled up to elbow him properly, and valued his sleeping-bag-cloak too much to burn himself free. In both his capacity as Dad and as Crazy Uncle, Sokka had no qualms with exploiting this weakness.

"Ssh, go ahead, get all your ineffectual struggles out. But remember: I can and will upgrade this to a group hug."

The Fire Prince went limp as a scruffed bear-pup. "I hate you," he muttered. "So much."

Parenting, Sokka had determined over the last few days of endless ocean, was really just one long string of threats. And making good on those threats. And occasionally having his clothes lit on fire around the edges.

He was pretty sure he was doing it right.

"Zuko," Katara said, scooting closer. Making herself hug-adjacent, thus indicating her status as hug-available without trespassing into his anti-hug-grump-zone. "Did your grandfather really…?"

"Where is this stupid city, anyway?" the firebender huffed. "Appa can barely stay in the air and we've been flying forever and if I'd known you were this bad at navigating I would have had Lieutenant Jee plot a course before I left."

Sokka was pretty sure he was getting pecked through the sleeping bag. Hawky, he had noted early and often, appreciated hugs even less than her human heat-pack. Just one more squeeze—

"Stop it!"

—And he let go. "You know what would have been even more useful than a map, nephson?"

"If you say 'a coat' I will burn yours."

Sokka simply grinned, content that his message had gotten through. Also because Zuko had proven capable of making good on his own threats, and establishing healthy parent-child boundaries based on mutual physical retaliation was important.

He was definitely doing this right.

"I think you are stressing too much about this title thing," Sokka said. "I mean, Water Tribe. We don't do that. Plus, we've got this whole 'the Avatar has returned' news, plus plus, oh yeah, 'and there's a huge invasion fleet assembling just south of here'. Pretty sure titles are going to be the last thing on anyone's mind."

The sleeping bag huffed dramatically enough that it both chittered and squawked. "You don't know anything about courts. Unless you're important enough, no one cares. They'll hear your news and then they'll stick you in the turtleduck garden and pretend you don't exist while more important people make all the decisi—go away!"

"That was a little too specific to not be based on trauma," Sokka said, with all due pre-threatened hugging. Since it was only a little trauma, he made it a quick hug.

"Do you really think the Northern Water Tribe will be like that?" Aang called back, from Appa's head. "The Southern isn't."

"In the South, the Chief's son and daughter let people call them peasant," Zuko said, like all that peasant-calling hadn't originated solely from him. "If I'm even going to pretend to be related to you people, you need to act more dignified. If we can find this stupid city before the next solar eclipse, they'll have weeks and weeks to prepare. It takes forever to organize major assaults, and to gather all the ships and supplies, and Zhao only just started, plus it would be really stupid to do this so close to winter when they could wait for summer, the only thing worse would be timing it for a full moon. It would be really stupid to attack now."

"Stupid," Sokka said. "You mean like Zhao?"

His nephson haughtily re-adjusted his sleeping bag in clear acceptance of Sokka's accurate character assessment. "My point is, the invasion is urgent but not urgent enough that they have to listen to a bunch of kids. Not unless we can make them take us seriously. This isn't some scattered chiefdom like the South, the tribes are united, and Arnook might still call himself 'chief' but he calls his daughter 'princess'. He's their Fire Lord. ...Their Water Lord? That sounds so stupid, no wonder they kept 'chief'—"

"Okay, first," Sokka interrupted, "you really need to stop with the casual cultural disparagement before we get there. Ice flows, ice crevasses, icebergs. Lots of icy places to disappear, only three of us to protect you."

Appa groaned.

"Four of us," he corrected, and ignored any chittering because lemurs were hardly effective personal protection and really, what had Momo ever done for this team except get Sokka blamed for the glue incident? "Also: seriously? They have a princess?"

"Why do I know more about your sister tribe than you!"

A literal century of cultural isolation thanks to your grandpappies, Sokka did not say. Because he was also working on his casual disparagement. And his nephson was a blameless little incendiary butterfly-moth.

"So I'm Princess Katara?" his sister smirked.

"Yes," Zuko clearly tried to throw his hands up in exasperation, but only succeeded in making himself a hilariously flailing sleeping bag rectangle with bonus sounds of irritated wing-flaps. "This is why we need to figure out titles! You might be stupid peasants that live in unsanitary ice huts at the bottom of the world—"

"Oh we are not having the sewer discussion again—" Katara said, giving Sokka yet another tiny piece of her week-on-Zuko's-ship puzzle.

"—But we can make you sound really important. All of us sound really important. We have the Avatar and a princess and two princes. And if we're really important representatives of our nations, then they can't afford to offend us by leaving us out of th-their war councils… and..."

Sokka had no idea why war councils made his little buddy's throat close up. But he did know when it was time for more hugs. Zuko barely even tried to squirm out of this one.

"You're right," Sokka said, "this title thing sounds really important. Thanks, Fire Nation Advisor."

Zuko nodded tersely. And relaxed in his arms, just a little. Sokka absolutely did not make any comparisons to turtle-seals peeking out of their shells, except in the warm-fuzzy-feelings comfort of his own mind.

"What do you know about the Northern Tribe?" Zuko asked, eventually. "My tutors didn't talk about it much, because it doesn't import or export and there's not really anything there we'd want and they haven't done more than scout a little too close to our waters in eighty years."

"Well," Katara said, "Gran-Gran ran away from them, but she never really wanted to talk about it."

Which… yeah. Was pretty accurate. But now Zuko and Aang and Momo were peeking over and/or out to stare at Katara and him, and Sokka was struck by something that would maybe have been obvious if he hadn't grown up with it.

"That's probably a bad sign, huh?" he asked.

Which was when they were attacked by more waterbenders in one boat than there were men under seventy in Sokka's entire village.

And that was just the one boat.

%%%

One of the scout ships had returned a full week early, they reported to Chief Arnook.

They had found the Avatar, they reported; or rather, the Avatar had found them.

The Avatar was twelve, and traveling in the company of three similarly aged children. The eldest two were the heirs of his Southern counterpart, Chief Hakoda. The third was, very loudly, claiming to be the offspring of his Western counterpart, Fire Lord Ozai.

The Fire Prince was also twelve, and had offered informal proof of his claim by lighting one of the scout's parkas on fire.

This was after they had tried to drown him for responding to their ice-attacks on the… the flying bison with firebending, but before Chief Hakoda's son had given another scout a concussion with his boomerang, and Chief Hakoda's daughter had proven to be not just a waterbender, but one that was unfamiliar with her proper role as a non-combatant healer. When her bending had proven too weak to compare to a true warrior's, she had pulled a knife on an unnamed member of the scouting party until the others had dragged the firebender into a boat and agreed to let Chief Arnook judge him, rather than the ocean. It was reported to be a very gaudy knife, though Arnook failed to see the relevance of that detail, and did not appreciate the vehemence with which it was delivered. He kept his own face impassive, as a subtle reminder of how a real man gave and received news.

The scout leader reporting all this was, on the whole, soggier than Arnook was used to his scouts being. The man kept rubbing at his throat. And… were those claw marks on his face, or peck marks?

...Both?

The Avatar himself had, reportedly, laughed nervously. And held off the rest of the scout ships with some manner of wind-and-water cyclone, and preemptive apologies for any property damage that might result in them getting too close, really he would be so sorry so could they all please just keep their distance, thanks.

"Gather the council. We will see what the Avatar and his companions have to say," Chief Arnook ordered, because there were very few other options, and have a headache was not mutually exclusive with meeting its cause.

%%%

Zuko wasn't as cold as Katara and Sokka seemed to think he was. He was dripping a lot, and Sokka's sleeping bag was at the bottom of the northern ocean by now, but he had his breath of fire and he should be able to keep it up until they got somewhere warmer. Somewhere that wasn't the middle of an ice-street in an ice-city surrounded by ice-houses. They weren't ice on the inside too, were they? But he'd be fine even if they were, because… because breath of fire. He wasn't cold at all. Uncle had always known he'd fall into polar waters sooner or later, and Zuko maybe owed him an apology for how much he'd shouted that he wouldn't. To be fair, Uncle always made it sound like when it happened, it would be his own fault.

The scowling Water Tribe warriors flanking him were definitely not his fault.

"Stop that," one of them growled.

"Get my hawk a towel," Zuko countered. When no towel was forthcoming, he took in an even deeper breath through his nose and blew out a lick of flame over his tongue. Fire Flake appreciatively huddled against his warm back, perching on his tied hands. Tied with rope, ha. If it wasn't such a good hawk perch he would burn right through. Could burn right through. Definitely wasn't shivering hard enough that maybe it wasn't a good idea to try doing any close-to-his-skin burning-right-through.

"Listen, you," Sokka said, poking the leader of their escorts in the chest. "You… you gigantic man-bear you, either you need to tell your people to stop freaking out every time they see sparks and let my son firebend himself dry, or you need to get him some new clothes. Are we clear?"

Chitter, Momo added angrily, his head peeking out of Sokka's half-buttoned coat.

Zuko really wanted to protest the 'son' part of that, but even if his teeth definitely weren't chattering too much for casual conversation, it was important that they present a united front. Which was exactly why they should have worked out all their titles ahead of time.

Katara and Aang were a few yards away, riding on Appa's back as he swum through a canal. Zuko wondered how deep down those canals went, but also decided that for right now he'd rather walk as close to the buildings as his guards would let him and not try to investigate that. Aang was on the bison so Appa wouldn't try to eat another boat's cargo of sea-lettuce. Katara was on the bison so she was only in eye-stabbing range of the warriors, not literal stabbing range. They'd… made some comments. About girls, and fighting.

She rolled her pirate-knife over her knuckles in a way that Engineer Hanako had definitely taught her, it was too terrifying to have come from anywhere else, and watched the warriors surrounding Zuko and Sokka. The warriors refrained from looking back.

"Stop that," Zuko's guard snapped again.

"Sorry," Zuko said, steaming slightly in a way that made Fire Flake coo. "I guess it's just my natural evil venting."

They'd made some comments about firebenders, too.

"Nephson," Sokka said, "please stop deliberately antagonizing the nice men who tried to drown you." He jerked his head towards the canal, like he somehow expected Zuko to have forgotten all that depthless water that was one hard shove away.

Zuko took in a breath, and let it out, and could almost feel his fingers again. "I can hold my breath a lot longer than it takes for Aang and Katara to pull me out."

"That. Is not the point. The almost dying is the point."

"I almost die all the time," Zuko rolled his eyes, "it's not that big of a—don't you dare—"

"Excuse me," Sokka elbowed his way past Zuko's guards. And hugged him. In front of their escort, and everyone, and why did it feel like the whole city was watching. "There there, little buddy. There—whoa."

Zuko followed his gaze to the gondola floating past, and the really-awesome was-that-even-real completely-white-haired but-not-super-old girl in it, and took this as an opportunity to headbutt his distracted hugger. He would have elbowed him, but Fire Flake seemed really comfy back there. "Don't check out girls while you're hugging me!"

"Don't worry, nephson, no woman will ever come between us." But his eyes were still following the stupid girl. Zuko ground his heel into Sokka's boot, and stomped onwards. It was super easy to see where they were going, there was a giant snow palace.

His guards hurried to follow, looking progressively more lost the longer they let their captives talk.

%%%

The councilors came, with varying degrees of confusion that told the chief exactly who among the noble houses had their own access to unreleased information. Master Pakku was the last to arrive, and took his place at Arnook's right with a simple stoic nod that did not admit to knowing anything, while implying he knew everything.

"Send them in," Arnook said, with a nod to one of his guards, who opened the door to the meeting hall with a bow.

Ice was an excellent sound-proofing material. Open doors, less so.

"I am not wearing your stupid over-sized coat to a formal meeting!" shouted a shivering boy. His thin clothes clung to his skin, their red so deep it gave the illusion of blood; the fact that it was dripping made the sight even more disconcerting.

"You're not catching pneumonia either, mister!" a scrawny teenager in appropriately practical layers of blue shouted back. "And I really don't think they'll appreciate you breathing fire in front of their chief!"

"Uh, hi?" A small bald child waved at the council. "Guys, I think they're ready for us."

"I'm going to light your coat on fire," the Fire Nation boy said. The hawk perched behind him on his bound arms leaned around his side, and screeched in apparent support.

The lemur down the front of the Water Tribe teen's coat chittered back, as the teen poked the younger boy in the chest. "Young man, in this family we don't use our threats, we use our words. We talk things through, and then we decide that the adults were right all along."

"I'll be sure to listen if I find one."

"Zuko," the only girl among their number hissed. "Sokka." She grabbed a shoulder each, and turned them towards the open door.

There was, Chief Arnook noted, an extremely gaudy dagger tucked in her boot.

It was almost as distracting as the boy's face. Arnook did not gasp, as some of the other councilmen did, but he felt a brief flash of unease for such a terrible wound on such a young child. He'd seen worse burns, but only on the oldest of the tribe's veterans. The boy straightened haughtily under the council's scrutiny, and glared.

It was a timely reminder of who and what they were dealing with. If Ozai's spawn was that much of a fire hazard to himself, Arnook held little hope for what he would do within their city.

"I am Chief Arnook," he announced, cutting short the murmurs of the council. He let the silence grow, providing no direction to these children; how a person reacted to silence was telling.

The Water Tribe siblings glanced at each other. The boy with the airbender tattoos—the Avatar, he presumed—was looking all around the chamber with curious eyes. The young firebender stood as still as his shivering allowed, head imperiously high, as if perfectly used to the stares of a room full of adults. He would be.

"Is this the part where we introduce ourselves?" the Avatar stage-whispered to his companions.

They all, Arnook noted, looked to the Fire Prince.

%%%

There was supposed to be a court crier, what kind of backwards barbarians expected people to introduce themselves. But no one had taken their full names before they'd come in, and now Aang and Sokka and Katara were all looking at him like he should know what was going on, and the first rule of court life was to always act like he did because if he got it right than everything was okay and if he got it wrong than Azula would laugh at him later but if he asked then everyone knew he was stupid.

So he nodded tightly to Aang.

"Hello your Chiefliness," the monk said, with a really dramatic bow, what was he doing, if that was his idea of a court bow Zuko was going to kick him later. "I'm Avatar Aang."

"Princess Katara, daughter of Kya and Chief Hakoda. Waterbending master in training." At least she didn't do anything stupid, even if crossing her arms was maybe a little more stand-offish than necessary. She definitely wasn't his mom but she could maybe be his aunt if she kept being the only one to not embarrass him. Because he knew he was going to get embarrassed, Sokka was grinning before he even started—

"Prince Sokka, son of Kya and Chief Hakoda, Tactical Advisor to the Avatar, Navigation and Evasive Maneuvers Specialist—"

Zuko had never taught the stupid functionally-a-peasant the difference between written titles and what people actually said when they had to introduce themselves. So a part of this was his fault. But an even bigger part was Sokka's own fault, because he kept grinning and not looking at Zuko which meant he definitely knew what he was doing—

"Scientifically Minded Traveler of the Spirit World, Flaunter of the Western Blockade, Incidental Destroyer of Fire Nation Cultural Heritage Sites, Occasional Knight-Champion of Earthbendia, Father of—"

No no no—

"Prince Zuko," Zuko interrupted. "Son of Ursa and Fire Lord Ozai. ...Grandson of Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe."

He felt way too warm. It had nothing to do with either his bending or any pending hypothermia. He let out a breath, and hope-wish-prayed he wasn't as red as he felt.

%%%

The grandson of Fire Lord Azulon and Chief Hakoda blew out a flame, as if to prove a point.

It struck Chief Arnook that, perhaps, they should have maintained closer ties with their Southern sisters. And closer communications with the world in general. Isolationism was all well and good until there were royal firebenders in the Water Tribe.

%%%

AN: Back! We will likely be marathoning to the end of the Northern Water Tribe arc (and the end of Season One, woo!) Some Pai Sho Cheating may occur in the middle. Towards the Sun to resume afterwards. I've officially taken down the "weekly or better" update promises from all stories, 'cause I seem to have shifted to a rotational update system. Check my Tumblr for what's-currently-updating status reports (same username). Avoid the heck out of said Tumblr if you are not caught up on Towards the Sun. And I cannot recommend visiting the fanart tag enough, you need to witness the sheer adorability that is Little-Zuko-Getting-Group-Hugged-(With-Animals-Included) by the wonderful terminalnaps. I can't even. He is such a little ball of grump wrapped up in so much love.

AO3 is fully caught up on all stories, for anyone who'd rather follow over there. Comments over there are also more likely to get a reply, 'cause AO3 be awesome. But I appreciate and read and occasionally compulsively re-read comments on FF too, love you all, use whichever site works best for you.