The sun was not yet up, and the southern lights rippled green and red and blue across the starry sky when Zuko, Hakoda, and Sokka left the igloo the next morning, heading through the village down to the empty beach from which the whaling boats would launch. Zuko was heavily loaded with the spears, lines, and floats Hakoda had given him; he had been barely awake before Katara's father had pushed him out the door, but the cold had struck him full force like a slap in the face and woken him up. He was feeling it full-strength too; he needed to conserve his energies for the hunt ahead, so he did not dare warm himself. Sokka, who was prancing like a war rhino eager for battle, didn't seem to feel the cold at all, nor did Hakoda.
"Wow, Dad, this is so great," Sokka exulted as they crunched through the fresh snowfall among the low white mounds of the igloos. His tackle was slung over his shoulder in a neat bundle; he was having nowhere near the difficulty managing everything that Zuko was. Zuko trailed behind the two of them, feeling like a cloak dragged on the ground. His breath plumed before him in the frigid air. He heard Sokka saying, "I can't believe I'm finally going to get a chance to go on one of these! I was wondering if they were ever going to hold the hunts again—"
"You are fortunate, my son, and I am sure you will do well," Hakoda said, smiling at his child. "Zuko!" he turned and called over his shoulder; Zuko, who had been lagging behind, hurried to catch up.
"Yes sir?" he managed, panting a bit and struggling with the tackle, as he came up beside them.
"I want you to stay close to Sokka today. Watch him and do everything he does. Sokka," Hakoda said, turning to his son, "keep an eye on Zuko. Make sure he doesn't get into trouble."
Zuko and Sokka glanced at each other. Zuko wondered if he looked as sour as Sokka did. "Yes, Dad," Sokka said, and Zuko nodded his own assent.
"Both of you," Hakoda continued, turning to look at both of them, "obey Bato. He will be your boat captain. It is his job to look out for inexperienced hunters, so if he tells you to do something, you do it, do you understand?"
"Yes, Dad," Sokka said, and Zuko added, "Yes sir."
"Under no circumstances try to make the kill yourself, except in the rare event that Bato expressly tells you it's all right. As a boat with an inexperienced crew, you will not be in the breaking wave—"
Sokka hissed in frustration. "But Dad—" he began angrily.
"Sokka." Hakoda's voice was firm.
"Sorry, Dad," the Water Tribe boy said sullenly. Zuko said nothing. Not being in the "breaking wave," whatever that was, was just fine with him—in fact, the farther back from the action, the better.
"You will not be in the breaking wave, and you will most likely not be among the boats in position to give the final blows. It is not necessary that you do so for this hunt to count. That is well. I don't want either of you taking a foolish chance and getting hurt, or worse, getting in the way of the experienced hunters and allowing the prey to escape. Our whole tribe depends on the success of these hunts; Sokka, you at least know the hardship a failed hunt could mean for our people this winter."
Sokka looked solemn. "Yes, Dad. I know," he said in a subdued voice. Zuko bit his lip. He hadn't thought that far—he'd just thought of this hunt as a hurdle he had to get over to marry Katara. The idea that people could suffer if this hunt failed was a sobering one.
"I understand," he said quietly, and was rewarded with an appraising look from Hakoda.
"I believe you do," he said at last. He paused, his blue eyes distant. "Both of you are intelligent young men," he said, looking at the two youths who stood before him, Water Tribe and Fire Nation, tan and pale. "I don't need to remind you that whale hunts can be dangerous…but I will anyway. Remember that discretion is the better part of valor. Both of you have young women whose hearts would grieve if you were to be claimed by La's watery depths. As would mine, for the loss of two fine young warriors."
Zuko looked up at him, surprised; Hakoda was as tall as his own father had been. Does he mean that…?
"Simply by participating in this hunt, you can be proud—proud that you have helped our people to survive, and proud that you have honored those who are counting on you. I will be proud of you both as well," he said simply.
"Yes, Dad. Thank you." Sokka looked very serious. Zuko was too caught up in thought to say anything.
He said…he'd be proud of us both. Did he mean that? The idea that Katara's father would be proud of him felt strange; he turned it over in his mind, examining it from all angles. He couldn't really have meant that he would be proud of me—he was just saying it to be polite. Wasn't he? Could he really…
"Come on," Hakoda told them both. "The boats are just up ahead."
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The skin boats were drawn up in a long line along the snow-covered beach, dark oval shapes against the bluish white snow; men clad in blue and white fur parkas were busy around them, loading tackle and gear into them as the sky above them lightened toward day. Zuko could feel his firebending growing stronger as the sun began to crest the horizon; it was a clear day, with no overcast so far. His guts were knotted with apprehension as they stepped out onto the beach.
"That boat is yours," Hakoda said, indicating a boat toward the far end. "Do you see Bato?" The other Water Tribe man straightened from packing something into the prow of the boat and lifted a hand. "Go to him. Good luck, both of you." He put a hand on Zuko's shoulder, gave Sokka a quick embrace, then turned and walked off, toward the other end of the beach. Zuko watched him go uneasily; as distant as Katara's father was, he still would have preferred him as boat leader. Sokka looked uneasy too; there's that at least.
"Come on," Sokka said roughly, turning away from his father's retreating back. "We can't hold up the hunt." He trotted off, down the beach to where Bato waited. Zuko followed, struggling with his harpoons, feeling acutely visible; he was sure everyone was looking at him. Hakoda had given him a set of Water Tribe furs to wear—"It is cold out on the ocean, and you will need to conserve your energy," he had told Zuko. "Water Tribe clothing is more suited to the climate than your own. Furthermore, if the boat is capsized, the Fire Nation armor you wear will pull you straight to the bottom. A parka can be shed much more easily if necessary." If the boat is capsized… Zuko had agreed based on that argument alone. The clothing was too big for him—it had been Hakoda's when he was younger—but even swathed in the heavy furs and with his feet encased in mukluks, Zuko knew that everyone could tell right away from his complexion and eyes that he was Fire Nation. It might have been his imagination, but he thought he detected several hostile glances as he followed Sokka down the beach.
Bato had been talking quietly to two other Water Tribe youths when Zuko and Sokka arrived; he straightened up and turned his attention to them. "Sokka," he said warmly, then with less warmth, "Zuko. Hakoda has told you that you will be in my boat?"
"That's right," Sokka acknowledged. Zuko simply nodded.
"Meet Artaq and Sangok," he said, indicating the other two. Both were young men of about their age; Sangok was taller, with longish features, where Artaq was short and compact; both appeared to be a couple years older than Sokka. He looks strong, Zuko thought, noting the breadth of Artaq's shoulders. "They are also young men preparing for marriage. Sangok is a waterbender, and we are fortunate to have him with us today. He is from the Northern Water Tribe." The waterbender lifted one hand shyly.
"I'm one of Master Pakku's students," he volunteered. "I came along with him when he came south."
"Artaq is one of our young warriors. Sokka, I believe you know him already."
"I do," Sokka muttered, looking at Artaq with dislike. Artaq returned the look insolently.
"I must go and speak to Hakoda with the other boat captains," Bato explained. "Zuko, Sokka, you can begin loading your gear into the boat. Sangok and Artaq have stored theirs already. I will be back shortly." Bato strode off down the beach; Zuko could see a knot of other Water Tribe men beginning to cluster around Hakoda.
Sokka was already putting his stuff in the prow of the boat, working fast and efficiently. Zuko leaned over the side of the boat to do the same, but Sokka stopped him. "Here," he said, yanking Zuko's harpoons out of his hands. "Let me see how you've coiled that rope."
Zuko handed over the harpoons and their attached thick coils of rope silently, keeping a careful hold on his temper. Sokka examined the coils of cable and made a face. "This is all wrong," he said in disgust. "Dad showed you how to do this last night. Weren't you paying attention?"
Rankled, Zuko responded, "What does it matter how they're coiled? I wasn't aware that there was some special Water Tribe way to coil rope."
"It has to be coiled so that it will pay out," Sokka's voice was harsh. "Dad told you that last night. Now I'm going to have to do it all over because you screwed it up the first time. Don't touch it. Stand there and watch, maybe you'll learn something." Working fast, Sokka began to unwind the heavy hawser attached to the bone shaft, cursing under his breath as the rope piled up at his feet. "The harpoon toggle heads are secured wrong, too," he added, holding up one of the barbed metal points so that Zuko could see it. "Look. See? You've got the grommet too far back—it's going to slip off too easily." He was already rapidly coiling the rope around and around in careful, overlapping layers; Zuko had to admit he looked like he knew what he was doing. Sokka wasn't even watching his hands, but still each swift turn of the cable was perfectly spaced. "Leave this much free. It looks like a lot, but it's not. And be sure the floats attached to the line are untangled. Then you secure this end to the prow of the boat like that—make sure it's really tight—"
"Why?"
"So it doesn't slip off when the whale runs, of course." Sokka looked annoyed, as if he felt he shouldn't have to explain.
"When the What does that mean?"
"Don't you know anything? It—You know what, never mind," Sokka said, with a not particularly nice smile. "You'll find out."
Zuko tensed in anger. He was already on edge about this hunt, and Sokka's smirk wasn't helping—he was starting to be reminded unpleasantly of Azula. "Tell me now," he demanded sharply. He could feel that his hands were starting to heat up.
"What's the matter, Sokka?" The sneer from Artaq brought them both up short. The other water tribe warrior had already stowed his gear and was leaning against the side of the umiak, watching them. "Don't like playing babysitter to your brother-in-law?"
"Shut up, Artaq," Sokka said sourly.
"You're going to marry Katara?" Sangok piped up from the stern of the boat. The young waterbender's eyes were wide with respect as he looked at Zuko, and he offered a shy smile. "Wow, you're really brave. A lot braver than I am. I'd rather go on a hundred whale hunts than marry her. Not that I mean any offense," he added quickly.
Sangok's friendly expression was the most sympathy Zuko had seen that morning, and he found himself offering a hesitant smile in return. "You know Katara?"
"She and I were in training with Master Pakku at the same time in the Northern Water Tribe. We used to spar together….she always won," Sangok admitted, hanging his head.
"That sounds like her," Zuko replied, unable to suppress a grin.
Sangok grinned back ruefully, and for a moment Zuko thought it would be all right, but then he asked, "Where are you from, anyway? You don't look like you're Water Tribe—"
"Sangok, you idiot," Artaq sneered. "Don't you know who this is?" Then as Zuko stood there, clenching his fists in frustration, the Water Tribe warrior continued, "He's from the Fire Nation. You're looking at the new Fire Lord."
The waterbender's dark complexion paled in shock; the friendliness drained from his expression and he recoiled as if looking at a venomous serpent. Zuko felt himself flush in helpless anger. So much for that, he thought. "What are you doing on our boat?" Sangok asked in a trembling voice. "Artaq, get him off—I don't want him coming with us!"
I can't start a fight with Katara's people, Zuko thought, drawing a deep breath. The air was so cold it was like breathing glass. No matter how much I want to…I can't… I can't… Sokka's face was sour, Zuko saw out of the corner of his eye; it looked as if he was struggling with who he disliked more, Zuko or Artaq.
"Who do you want off this boat, Sangok?"
The words of the returned Bato interrupted the standoff; everyone turned to see the older Water Tribe man, drawing up to their boat. In the distance, the knot of people around Hakoda was breaking up, men streaming toward the crafts that littered the shore. Bato paused for a moment, regarding the young men before him.
"Go on, Sangok," he prodded. "Who do you want off the boat?"
Sangok stammered for a moment, intimidated by Bato's imposing presence; Zuko felt a strange moment of sympathy for him. "H-him. Bato, he's the Fire Lord—"
"He is. And he is going to marry Chief Hakoda's daughter," Bato replied, his eyes distant. "Hakoda himself wanted Zuko assigned to this boat, under my command. He stays. You are free to leave if you so wish. That goes for you too, Artaq." Both the Water Tribe men dropped their heads and mumbled denials. "Very well. Sokka, Zuko, you have your gear stowed?"
"Yes, Bato," Sokka said, while Zuko nodded. Bato looked over the side of the boat.
"Nice work, Sokka, Zuko," he praised. "Hakoda is about to give the blessing, and then we will launch." He turned to look down the beach, to where Katara's father was standing, facing the assembled contingent of Water Tribe men. The rays of the morning sun sparkled off the snow behind Hakoda, turning the beach into a bright field. Even at this distance, Zuko could see Hakoda's eyes narrowed against the dawn. The chief held up his hands.
"Men of the Water Tribe!" he began.
And Fire Nation, Zuko thought.
"We are gathered here this dawn for a momentous occasion: The launch of the first whale hunt of the season. And these hunts are even more significant, for this is the first time the great whale hunts of the Southern Water Tribe have been held in many seasons. Since the survival hunts three years ago, before the hunters left for war."
Sokka was watching his father, his face very serious; seeing Zuko glance in his direction curiously, he hesitated, then leaned over. He whispered to Zuko, "I remember before the hunters left for the war, they were out every day for three months, trying to bring in enough to feed the tribe for however long they would be gone. They brought in more kills than even the tribal elders ever remembered being taken in one season, but the village was still running short by the time Katara and I left—"
"Sokka," Bato reproved, "be silent during the invocation."
"Sorry, Bato," Sokka apologized. Artaq smirked at him. Zuko ignored the byplay, frowning in thought, starting to come to a better understanding of just how important these hunts were.
"Today," Hakoda was continuing, "the war is over, and the hunters have returned. We adapted to the time of hardship—we changed to meet it, but we did not let it change the core of who we are. The time of darkness and sorrow has passed, but no one knows what the future will hold. However, one thing is certain: If all else changes, we are, and will remain, Water Tribe. Our community is strong."
"That's almost exactly the same thing Chief Dumaq said three years ago before the warriors left," Sokka whispered again to Zuko.
"Let these hunts be seen as an affirmation!" Hakoda called, holding up his hands. "We are continuity through change: we are Water Tribe!"
"We are Water Tribe!" the hunters on the beach echoed. Zuko was silent, wishing.
Hakoda lifted his eyes to the heavens. His voice grew deeper, his words and phraseology more formal; Zuko could tell that what Hakoda was saying now was ritual. "Tui and La, the Moon and Ocean: Spirits of our tribe, we call upon you now. Give your blessing and your protection to us, your people, that our hunt might be successful, and that our tribe might live. Tui, great and benevolent Moon Goddess: Let your rays light the ocean, and shed the moon path on the waters, leading our warriors to their prey and then safely back to the waiting hearts of our people."
"Yue, keep an eye on us, okay?" he heard Sokka murmur beside him. Again, Zuko wondered who Yue was.
"La, mighty Spirit of the Ocean: Give your great strength to our hunters, that they might travel far and strike true. Grant your mercy to those hunters who enter your domain, and render them up again, safely back to the open arms of our people.
"Together, Tui and La, we the Water Tribe beseech you for the success of this hunt and the safety of those who set forth upon it. Shed your light and your mercy on us forever."
"Shed your light and your mercy on us forever." The assembled Water Tribe hunters echoed Hakoda's last line, and this time Zuko joined in.
Hakoda dropped his hands. That seemed to be the signal; the assembled crews jumped into action. "Now what?" Zuko asked Sokka, as the Water Tribe youth straightened up. Sokka had turned to grip the side of the umiak; Artaq and Bato were already dragging it over the icy sand, while Sangok was drawing the water in from the ocean to lift the hide craft.
"Now?" Sokka grunted, throwing his back into pushing the boat. "Now, we shove off."