Chapter 2: A Problem

So the stupid camera was out of the stupid film and I couldn't take that stupid picture. Why do I care?

This was what Sokka couldn't help asking himself as he sat outside on the porch, slowly swaying back and forth on a rocking chair, stroking his sleeping niece's hair and feeling her head resting against his chest. Washing over the two of them were slivers of the moon's light, which penetrated the stubborn clouds to light their faces aglow. Sokka tried to ease his heart; she was here. She was with them. She was just a blink away, not eons.

It can't really be something like jealousy, right? Though it didn't seem like a far-off guess given the many missed opportunities that plagued him throughout his life to this very day. There was a time when he'd felt jealous that his father got to fight in the war while he had to stay behind, though that only turned out for the better. Apart from that, he was jealous that he didn't earn his mother's affection nearly as much as Katara did, that he didn't get to see the woman for the last time while Katara did. When it came to his sister, he was jealous of how she doesn't tell him nearly half as much as what she tells Aang. Then there was the fact that Sokka was a nonbender, that he wasn't gifted like the overwhelming majority of his peers.

And as he stared at the moon, he felt the throbbing reminder of how jealous he'd been of Hahn— how puzzled he'd been that such a heartless person tried to steal his chance to court with Yue, tried to snatch away his rightful position beside her. And even with that heartless jerk out of the way, there existed the crushing reality that La— whatever it meant to be such a kind of existence— had more of a chance than he did.

"The speaker of those poems is always the moon's lover, right? The ocean?"

No, I'm the moon lover! He just wasn't featured in the poems and the ballads as much as that La, that's what.

Jealous, jealous, jealous. He spent his whole life feeling jealous for various things, but this was what stung him the most. He was supposed to be over that stage now that he is well into his late thirties, but he is still jealous. But whatever that had to do with his disappointment earlier…? Maybe he wanted to be a part of the family in the photograph, too? Maybe he wanted that picture to be taken anyway despite knowing he would have resisted such a sappy possibility if he was his teenage self?

No, that's not it.

Then perhaps he was jealous of his sister's highly successful family life and wanted one of his own, which would be impossible with Yue gone? After all, he did ponder quite a bit about how Katara has someone else other than him to look up to. She has children who look up to her and are willing to protect her. She had a family of her own, and that was something Sokka didn't have. Something he refused to have without...

Yue, Yue, Yue.

But even if it's true that Katara was different from him this way, was that really it? Was that what he wanted? Or was it what could've been? What could've been if Yue was here?

Yue, Yue, Yue...

Noticing how Kya was constantly fidgeting, he slowly positioned his niece to where she was lying on his shoulder. A soft breeze rustled through the waterbender's ponytail and lightly whistled through the warrior's hair.

"It's cold," Kya mumbled in his shoulder.

He melted a little on the inside and wrapped his coat around her, and he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes as his life after the war flared before him. There was no point hiding the obvious; he had been depressed since he lost Yue, and everyone knew it. Time had whisked by the days and months following her loss all those years ago, demanding that they pick themselves up before they even had the chance to fall apart and grieve. The darkest part of him opted to grieve for her the day Ozai was beheaded, but that didn't turn out as expected, and the former Fire Lord rotted in prison for the rest of his days, fed and allowed to keep his life-breath.

It's not fair! Indeed, it wasn't fair that the man who was responsible for taking so many lives, taking away so much from so many people would be nourished behind prison walls while Sokka became like a prisoner over time, wandering aimlessly in the world of the living, looking for some kind of relief, knocking himself out in grief following the hours after Ozai's defeat. Perhaps it was the realization that the war truly was over, or perhaps it was the way so much stress had been piled up within him, but his first public breakdown had been just minutes after Zuko's coronation.

Many things had taken place in their journey of ending the war, and Sokka had sought many distractions along the way, one of them being an attempt at a relationship with Suki. He was not surprised or devastated when a few years after the war's end, the time came for him and Suki to officially separate. They were never in the same location following the war's end anyway, and there were no emotional strings attached from his end, so he didn't make that big of a deal about it. No one else was that surprised, either, when he mentioned their separation as a mere detail.

Then there was the fact that the universe had not treated him so kindly in terms of career. Given that he was a nonbender, it meant that there were scare opportunities for him. Training Toph's students and trying to restore peace took a heavy toll on him but didn't manage to get him any further as far as recognition went. He spent a lot of time drowning himself in inventions, some of which were formally recognized as his, some of which were stolen by large companies.

He remembered all he had to go through and all he gained with lots of effort, and he was not going to deny the fact that he was now better off as a public speaker, friend, and advisor to the Avatar. He was not going to deny the fact that he enjoyed this time of peace even if he did fear it would be temporary. However, that did not mean he never considered going back in time to the days he was oblivious to the intensities of the Hundred Year War. It did not stop him from envisioning an alternate universe, either. How things would've been if they were different. What if Yue never had a suitor? What if Sokka actually stopped her from giving up her life to become the Moon Spirit? What if he never even met Yue?

He shuddered at the thought. No, he would've met her. They were meant to be; any universe that defied this, he refused to let exist. If only he had been stronger. If only he'd been more insistent. She might have never left. They would've been married a long time ago, most likely, engaged in their own family photo sessions.

She would've been his as much as he was hers.

Yue...Yue...Yue...


The weight on his chest stirred. Bright sleeves were draped around his shoulders. A soft hand was cupping his cheek, and a petal-like thumb was tracing his lips. Sokka opened his eyes, his breath quickening when he saw Yue, clad in her ethereal spirit dress, resting her head against him and looking up at him with that world-healing smile of hers.

This was a dream, wasn't it? Only in dreams, she seemed to be with him. But can't this be real? Couldn't they have this moment? As if they'd been together their entire lives and had no kind of separation to fear? His hand shakingly reached for hers, and her touch felt so real that he wanted to lose himself. His eyes welled up with tears, little sobs trapped inside of his throat.

"Do you want me to get up—?"

"No no no! No, love," he choked out in panic. His hand brushed over her head, tucking back her long white locks. "Stay here," he held her to his chest, "Stay with me. Yue." Shakily, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. She was warm from the light she was exuding. Almost like the sun rather than the moon. "You promised me you'll always be with me. Yue, you promised."

"And I will be," she wiped away his tears. "I promise you."

But as soon as she said that, she faded away from his arms, leaving behind only a harsh wind. Sokka jolted up from the chair, overcome by pain and horror. "Yue?! Yue! YUE!"

And in the distance, the howl of a lone wolf overtook the moonlit night that blanketed over the porch. He could also hear something else: the clanging of what sounded like shackles.

And there, up ahead, her voice.

"Sokka!"

"Yue!"

Suddenly, he wasn't on the front porch of Aang and Katara's temporary Ba Sing Se home. He was standing in the middle of a swamp— the Foggy Swamp, to be precise. And at the other side of the swamp, he saw her. Not clearly since she appeared to be a white silhouette, but she was nevertheless there. Faint white mist was beginning to take on the shape of a beautiful, white-haired maiden in shackles. But why was she restrained?

"Yue!" he called out. He started running towards her and noticed she was struggling to be free of the chains. Her hands and feet were tied together, the shackles binding her wrists and looping around her like an infestation of dark snakes.

"Yue!" he cried, "I'm coming! I'm coming for you, Yue!"

But it seemed like he couldn't run fast enough, and the closer he thought he was getting, the farther away she seemed to be. At one point, it was like she was eons away, forever out of his reach, and it crushed his weeping heart. "Wait!"

"They're coming, Sokka."

"Who's coming? Yue!"

He thought he got closer to where he could see her clearly, but she began to fade. Her eyes were glassy, and she seemed powerless. With a shackled arm, she reached out for him.

"They're going to kill our way of life, Sokka."

"Don't go!" Sokka violently wiped the moisture away from his eyes and let out a frustrated groan, and when he finally managed to reach her, he dropped next to her. But before he could even touch her, some force grabbed him and drew him back— the same kind of shackles— this time in the form of strong vines— that bound her away from him.

"Aah!" he fought against the vines, kicking his legs, trying to reach for his sword to hack them off, but they only coiled more tightly around him. Yue was starting to disappear, but she was looking at him earnestly.

"They're going to imprison me, Sokka."

"No, they won't! I'm here now! I'm here, I'll protect you!" He stomped his foot on a few of the vines, his face drenched with desperation and tears, "I won't fail you ever again! Give me a chance, please!"

"My father is in danger. My people are in danger."

"No!" He grunted and tried to break free from the vines. "Ugh, let me go! Stupid vines!"

"They're going to separate us, Sokka."

"No! I won't let them! I won't! I love you, Yue, so please!"

But she didn't stop fading. The warrior caught one last glimpse of the Moon Spirit through the tears in his eyes, shaking his head in a plea for her to not go as he sobbed.

"They're going to kill me, Sokka."

"NOOO!"

"Sokka? Sokka!"

Sokka shivered in his sleep, mumbling to himself. "Love you...Yue, I love you…please..."

"Sokka, you need to wake up," Aang frowned worriedly. "Sokka!"

The warrior jolted awake, his entire world spinning. His bloodshot eyes searched frantically but relaxed as Kya stirred against his shoulder. His heartbeat was going crazy, and his body seemed to vibrate with the rush of adrenaline as if he was still running.

"Sokka, are you okay?"

She'll be okay. She's the Moon Spirit.

"Sokka, I'm talking to you. Sokka?"

It was just a nightmare. He was worrying for no reason.

"Sokka? What's wrong? You're sweating like crazy."

"H-Huh?"

"You're sweating quite a bit."

"I am?"

The Avatar carefully took his daughter into his hands. "Thanks for watching Kya. You're okay, right?"

"...Yeah..." But his voice was very unsure. He rubbed his eyes and got up from the chair, walking over to the corner of the porch. The pulled back the floorboards at the usual spot where he kept his intoxicants.

"Sokka," Aang sighed at him helplessly, "You know we're here if you want to talk."

"I'm fine, Mr. Avatar," he popped open a bottle of spirits. "Go put Kya to bed, I'll be here."

The nightmare was not unexpected for Sokka in spite of it being so intense. It was normal for him to get more emotional and have increased nightmares around the month of the week-long Moon Festival, particularly its last day, the Day of the Red Moon, which marked the second and last day of the Northern Siege and commemorated Princess Yue's sacri…No, he wasn't going to say that word, let alone think of it.

But why did he have a nightmare like this? It had to mean something, right? Why was Yue in chains? Was it just another product of his broken mind? Was it a sign? Was he attaching meanings to it unnecessarily? Was Yue trying to say something to him? Was she trying to communicate with him? After all these years...she hadn't forgotten him, right?

But he couldn't help worrying either way; deep in his heart, he had a horrid feeling that Yue might be in trouble somehow.

"I cleared your schedule for three weeks," Aang stepped back outside, having tucked Kya to sleep. "I know it'll take much longer to get to the Northern Water Tribe by ship. But…"

"But what?"

"I'm afraid you have to be there longer than usual this time." On Aang's face was now a look of great uncertainty.

Sokka looked up, swallowing the contents of the bottle, "Why would—?" he paused in alarm. "Unless there's something really…"

"Things have gotten out of control. I know this probably isn't a good time to tell you this, and with how you've been doing recently, but it can't be helped." Aang reached into the folds of his robes and handed Sokka a scroll. "I received this message from General Kano about an hour ago."

"Kano…" Sokka frowned. "Of the Northern Water Tribe?"

"He says the tensions have not been subsiding and...apparently...an assassination has taken place."

"What?" Sokka frantically stumbled to his feet and threw the bottle of spirits aside. "Who, what?" He unraveled the scroll and skimmed through the context. His eyes widened with panic, and he ended up dropping the scroll. "Oh no."