A/N: There was so much humor in the episode Cave of the Two Lovers that it has become my favorite. Sokka's reaction to Chong and his entourage inspired the following drabble. I see no reason why this couldn't happen.
Disclaimer: Okay, I don't own Avatar or its characters. Owell. I'll get over it. So will you. In the meantime…
At first, seemingly forever, the noise was simply horrific. An assault upon the senses that, frankly, only love could forgive. And after a while they even questioned that.
"I thought you hated them, hated the whole experience," Katara said, early on in their suffering. "What can have possibly possessed you?"
"You weren't there." Sokka's face had that particularly mulish look, an expression Katara disdained, but one Aang recognized as a family trait. "I know they were horrible - I thought I'd go mad having to listen for hours. But, the monsters loved it. And it wasn't magic. Anyone could do it. Hell, I did it!" He strummed another torturous note on the instrument they had picked up along with supplies at the last market. Katara winced as he executed a series of notes that reminded her of nothing so much as a dying turtle-seal.
"Well, but honestly, Sokka, the nomads were pretty good, really." She said, trying to comprehend. "Maybe it really was their music that won over the badgermoles. They sounded good to me"
"What? Are we talking about the same people? They had nothing, nothing!" his tone was derisive. "Their 'music' was a joke! What, are you deaf?"
"I wish" muttered Aang under his breath. Momo no longer curled up with Sokka on a regular basis, and even Appa looked askance at the water tribe boy who made his flying hours a living hell.
But Sokka persevered, driven by the sudden change in a badgermole's eyes as it heard the notes accidently rendered by his errant hands as he scrambled to escape its savage claws. That the harsh tones and absurd lyrics he and the wandering nomads spouted had had the power to turn their furor into helpful acquiescence still left him in awe. Perhaps, because he recognized that this was a power within his reach. On his own terms.
Then a time came, surprisingly soon, when one of Sokka's apparently random series of notes stuck in Aang's head as he air-bended his way back to their camp on the evening breeze, and Katara found herself humming another as she filled her water-skin.
Sokka's own ear seemed never satisfied; when he wasn't attempting to hone his boomerang skills yet further or exploring how the Kyoshan moves Suki had taught him meshed with the moves driven home by the Northern Water Tribe warriors, he "relaxed" by fingering chords and melodies that presented themselves to his weary soul. He didn't notice that, in searching to harness a potential power to use against his enemies, Sokka's own anger and frustration had found release.