I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender. (And the world breathes a sigh of relief.)
Switching Sides
Chapter Five: In Disguise
Over the next week, Sokka had plenty of time to think about his promise to Katara. The siblings had to stay inside in order to remain undiscovered, which meant that their days had now fixed into the same boring routine: They woke up, had breakfast, talked, had dinner, sat together in their room – usually in silence, because there was nothing to say – had tea and then finally went to bed.
This monotony was starting to drive Sokka crazy, and he found himself thinking of his days back at the South Pole more and more. Back then, he had barely been away from the fresh air; he had gone hunting and fishing, and in the spaces between he had attempted to train the younger boys in the art of the warrior. After all, since his father had left, it was up to him to defend Katara, his mother and his tribe.
Those days seemed ages ago now, although it had really only been a small amount of time since he had woken up in Ailin's house. Maybe it was because their days were so boring that they seemed to drag on forever; his life here was far removed from his previous one.
But if he had his way, then both he and Katara would be back in the South before long. Although Katara claimed that she did not want to go back home now she knew their mother was dead (and refused to talk, or – he suspected – think about anything which concerned their previous life), he did not believe her for a second. After all, she hated the Fire Nation perhaps even more than he did; she must know, on some level, that one day they would have to move on.
Sokka was also not sure whether Katara's memories were real or not. After her first initial outburst, she had refused to tell him anything about what she had remembered, which caused Sokka to question the integrity of her memories. She had been delirious and in pain, and most certainly had not been in her right mind – and anyway, Sokka did not believe anything he had not seen with his own eyes.
And so, while Katara was gazing glumly out of the window at the smoggy city beyond and complaining about the heat, Sokka was busy thinking about ways he could get them both safely home.
Ailin twisted her hair back into a simple bun before her mirror, sighing as she registered the shadows beneath her eyes and the scruffiness of her clothing. She looked as though she had let herself go – and yet, she had been busier in this past week than she had been in years, although Katara and Sokka knew nothing about it.
For a week, Ailin had been hurrying about town, claiming favours from people she had not seen in years in order to attain what was now laid out immaculately on her bed: clothing suitable for a respectable, if poor, Fire Nation girl and boy, two sets of papers denoting 'Sonji' and 'Rei' as citizens of that most Glorious Nation, and an old, torn atlas of the most Rich and Plentiful Country.
In short, everything that was needed to turn Katara and Sokka into proper Fire Nation citizens.
She had decided to do this a week before, shortly after Katara's leg had been redressed. Now that there were three people in the house to feed instead of one, Ailin's food stores were dwindling fast; so was the stash of money in the pot at the back of her cupboard. However monotonous her job at the market might be, she needed to get back to gutting fish in order to pay for her two new charges.
Of course, it was easier said than done. When she went to work, Ailin would have to take the children with her; there were no two ways about it. If she left them to their own devices in an empty house, who knew what they would do? They were, after all, Water Tribe children, and so naturally had none of the refined manner of all good Sons and Daughters of Fire. No, when she went to work, they would have to come too.
That in itself posed another danger. Ailin had lived alone for years, and her neighbours were a nosy lot; she had no doubt in her mind that as soon as Katara and Sokka stepped outside of the confines of her house, they would be accosted by everybody who lived on the street and beyond: newcomers were always subject to a thorough inspection before being accepted as part of the community. At the moment, Sokka and Katara would not be able to cope with that: they barely knew the name of the Fire Lord, let alone all the ins-and-outs of Fire Nation life they would need to know in order to not be found out.
With this in mind, Ailin had decided to give them lessons in everything from the Oath to how to clip their toenails in the Fire Nation fashion.
The only trouble was that she had not told them yet. She had no delusions about how they would take the news; Katara still believed she would be going home by the end of next month. However, it had to be done, and if she didn't do it then who would?
With a sigh and a glance at the portrait beside her bed, Ailin left her room and made her way downstairs, her mind running through every possible way she could think of to break the news to the children.
In the end, the best she could do was to be blunt about it. If she got over the first hurdle and told them, then the rest would surely fall into place. Surely. Still, Ailin waited until dinner to tell the pair of her plans, and it was with an air of trepidation that she finally cleared her throat.
"Katara. Sokka. I have something to ask you." She did not like the word ask. She was telling them, dammit!
Katara, who had been gazing down at her noodles with an air of disgust, almost as though they were alive, lifted her gaze to meet Ailin's. "What is it?" She could tell by the tone of the old woman's voice that whatever it was, it was serious.
Sokka stopped eating to listen, wiping a noodle off his chin as he stared at Ailin intently.
"I need to work, and I need to take you with me. I want to teach you how to be Fire Nation citizens so you don't get caught."
There was a moment of silence, and then:
"NO!" Katara sprang out of her seat so fast she was just a blur. Her eyes were wide with shock and bewilderment; her wounded leg shook beneath her, but she refused to sit down. "I'm not going to – not ever –"
"Sit back down," Sokka instructed Katara, who slowly slipped back into her seat, although she had lost none of her desperation.
"But – but our identity, Sokka, and our plans to go home – we can't –"
"Shut up, Katara." Sokka turned to Ailin. "Listen. We appreciate what you're doing for us – really. But can't you see we're not here to stay? Another few weeks at the most, and then we're going home." He had the infuriating air of talking to somebody who was mentally challenged, or perhaps just not logical enough for his liking.
"I know you aren't here to stay," replied Ailin, thinking that Sokka's sensibility was a gift from the spirits; if it wasn't for him, she would be left dealing with an overly-hysterical Katara. "But while you are, you need to fit in."
"Why can't we just stay in the house?" asked Katara, directing a question at Ailin while keeping her gaze firmly fixed on her brother. Ailin studied the girl's profile through a veil of anger – anger that soon melted into fondness. She looked beautiful and wild, a child of the sea more than the land, and her whole demeanour betrayed the fact that she had grown up with the freedom to play, run around, and discover things for herself. Fire Nation children did not look like that: how could they, growing up with rigid rules, threatened with a beating for stepping out of line? For a second, Ailin wondered whether she should be attempting to 'civilise' these children at all.
"Ailin?" asked Sokka tentatively. How long had she been gazing at Katara?
With a shake of her head, Ailin banished all treacherous thoughts from her mind, and her thoughts returned to the matter at hand. "You can't stay inside because I don't trust you in the house," said Ailin bluntly, cringing at the softness she had just shown and determined to show them that she would not be won over. I must be going senile in my old age.
"We'd be good," pleaded Katara, turning her imploring face towards Ailin. "I promise I won't do anything. I'll sit on my bed all day, I promise – just don't make me change my name. Don't make me Fire Nation!"
Sokka put an arm round his sister's shoulders so that Ailin saw them as a united front. The sight made her want to give up.
"She's right, Ailin. I'm sorry, but we can't."
Ailin stood up slowly. "I see." And she did. Suddenly, she knew the only way to get them to do what she wanted – although it made her stomach curl to think that she had been reduced to such low methods. "But you still have to do it."
"But we –"
"'But, but, but.' Just shut up and listen for once. If you don't do exactly what I say, I will put you back where I found you, and that's on the harbour, by the sea. There are criminals there, people who don't care whether you're children or not; if you're Water Tribe, they will kill you. Maybe then you'll realise just exactly what a risk I'm taking for both of your sakes." Ailin's gaze was hard, daring either of them to challenge her. "I know about this place, and you don't. If you want to survive, you must follow my lead."
Slowly, Sokka nodded. Katara bowed her head.
"Right," said Ailin briskly. "Lessons start tomorrow morning."
They started with the Oath. All Fire Nation children were taught it before they could walk; it was intrinsically woven throughout their lives like a thread in a tapestry. It was a lullaby, a part of the school curriculum, and a recital at funerals. Given the importance it had amongst Fire Nation citizens, it was apt that they should begin with it.
It was also, as Sokka soon found, very hard to memorise.
"And with my – my mind, I seek to – er –"
"Wrong," snapped Ailin after watching him struggle to recall the phrase for a few moments more. "Come on, Sokka. I told you what the next line was only a minute ago!"
"Hey – I can't help it if I wasn't indoctrinated with in from before I was born – ow! What was that for?" Ailin had given Sokka a sharp cuff to the side of his head.
"For being disrespectful. Saying that sort of thing about town could earn you a night in the local prison – and it doesn't look too good from my point of view either. Katara, let's try you."
"And with my mind I seek ways to better my country," replied Katara instantly, her voice never faltering. Her tone was a flat line, her face blank – but the disgust that shone through her eyes was as clear as a candle in a dark room. She fixed her tutor with a chilling stare when she had finished, daring Ailin to fault her.
"You remembered it, Katara, but saying it like that won't get you anywhere. Sokka, what comes next?"
"Um." Looking intensely ill at ease, Sokka began to recite. "With my, er, nose, I seek to – to smell –"
"There is no 'nose' in the Fire Nation Oath!" Ailin slammed a palm into the wall. They were only two hours into their first lesson, and already the children had succeeded in making her livid. Not only were they not putting their full efforts into learning the Oath, they insisted on turning it into a battlefield. Sokka was sarcastic as often as possible, and Katara – well, she just wasn't willing. No matter how hard Ailin tried to impress upon her the importance of fitting in, the girl would not budge from her firm belief that the Fire Nation was evil. Ailin was starting to wonder if she'd ever learn.
"What is it about this that is so bad? It's just an oath! You don't even need to mean it! If you don't do this properly, we'll all starve, because I refuse to go back to work until I am certain you won't give us away and get us all killed!"
Humbled by Ailin's anger, Sokka mumbled a brief "sorry" as he gazed uncomfortably at the ground; Ailin was not their mother. She was under no obligation to help them in the way she was.
Katara's features softened into compassion. "Ailin," she said quietly. "I know you know how hard it is for us. Everything about this goes against our nature. But," and here she also stared at the highly-polished floor, trying desperately to swallow her pride, "it must be hard for you too. I'm sorry. I'll try harder."
For a moment, Sokka saw a flash of the kind Katara he had known back in the South Pole.
By the end of that day, both children had succeeded in reciting the Oath near-perfectly; by the end of the week they could say it with the correct accent, as well as locate and name all the major cities in the Fire Nation on a map, tell Ailin about the five most significant Fire Nation conquests in the past hundred years in detail (thankfully none of these involved the Water Tribes), and name every Fire Lord, starting with Ozai and working back to Sozin.
After two weeks, they could address a noble in the correct fashion, Katara could pour tea and cook several basic meals, Sokka knew (after a long, hard struggle and sharp words from Ailin) all the sports results since the last winter, and they both knew that 'flameo' was the same as 'ice' and 'hotman' was the same as 'brother'. The main bulk of their work was done.
"Now," said Ailin, dreading the inevitable friction that her next words would cause, "it's time to establish your characters."
"My name's Sonji," Sokka began. "I was born and raised in the Fire Nation colony near Omashu. My father was a foot-soldier in the war. His name was Xon. Because of my sickly nature early in life, I was never taught any fighting techniques, but instead went hunting with my father. When I was ten and my sister Rei was eight, he was killed by a band of Earth Kingdom rebels. My birthday is in the winter. When I am older, I want to become a soldier like my father."
"Good." Ailin turned to Katara, and Sokka breathed a sigh of relief, only to take in another breath and hold it; Katara's expression was a mixture of fear, resent and resigned submission. She was like a beast in the circus. "Katara, now you try."
"My name is Rei," she began slowly. "I was born and lived in the Fire Nation colony near Omashu with my brother, my mother and my father. My mother's name was – my mother's – she was called Tianqi. Under her instruction, I learnt to mend clothes and cook simple meals. She – she died shortly after I turned twelve, and my brother and I were sent to you. You are our father's second cousin."
"Well done," said Ailin quietly. Katara's forehead was glistening with sweat; lying about her nationality and, in particular, her mother caused her physical exertion.
Katara bowed her head. "I have to fit in and not give us away. I understand that."
But despite trying to convince Ailin otherwise, her misgivings were still strong – especially the next day, when she and her brother were made to look like Fire Nation citizens as well as act like them.
"We need to cut your hair," instructed Ailin first thing the next morning, briskly drawing up a chair for Katara, who sat down shakily, too tired and bemused to protest. The process of learning how to belong in another world had taken a toll out of her.
"Why?"
"Fire Nation girls don't wear their hair in long plaits," explained Ailin. "It shows looseness of nature and lack of discipline, and besides it's a hairstyle for men." Katara scowled. "Your hair is far too wild. Since I have no idea how to cultivate it, and we can hardly go to a professional even if I could afford it, I'm going to cut it off. Besides, it's practical."
"I –" Katara tried to protest, but found that no logical argument sprung to mind. Ailin's voice was that of truth and practicality. Still, Katara did not like it.
In the Water Tribes, long hair was the crowning jewel for young women; she had been the envy of her friends with her long wavy locks, which were just on the right side of manageable. She had started to realise, though, that Fire Nation life was all about holding things back; you pinned back your hair, kept your face impassive, stood neutrally and never raised your voice. All this constriction made her feel claustrophobic – and there was nothing she could do about it.
Sensing Katara's anxiety, Ailin chose that moment to begin issuing orders. A quick, clean cut: that was what they needed.
"Sokka, get me a knife from the kitchen."
"A knife?" Sokka clenched his fists in an instinctive gesture of suspicion. The very idea of handing Ailin – a citizen of the Fire Nation – a knife made his heart beat faster.
"What did you think I was going to use? A plank of wood? Hurry up; we have much more to cover today."
Slowly, and with misgivings in his every footstep, Sokka made his way to the kitchen. He was beginning to know where everything was here; the knife was placed neatly in a box with the other cutlery. Which one should he get – the wooden handled or the sharp? With a start, Sokka realised that this place was becoming familiar – almost like home.
He chose the sharp knife, reasoning that it would cut through hair much more cleanly, but halfway back to their bedroom, where the lessons were taking place, he wished he'd picked the other.
Sokka stopped abruptly and gazed down at the knife. He turned it over in his hands, shivering as the cold metal caught the light and glinted cruelly. This was no simple kitchen knife; it had been made with killing in mind, although Ailin used it only to cut meat. Its handle seemed to buzz with a thirst for blood, almost as though it was alive. Sokka tried to dispel such thoughts from his mind, but any attempt to abolish them was futile.
His eyes caught sight of an inscription on the handle. Holding it up to the light, he made out the words: Taj, in your fourteenth year. On the other side of the handle, there was another message, this one less personal: Proud soldier.
"– Ow!" In a sudden outburst of gasping pain Sokka dropped the knife, staggering backwards a few steps before regaining his composure and working out the source of the hurt.
His palm. The knife had cut his palm. Bright blood blossomed in the centre of his hand, spreading outwards through the grooves in his skin and spilling down his wrist. Sokka, who had only recently been able to take the bandage off his forehead, was furious at his stupidity. He had held plenty of knives before, and had never sustained even the smallest of grazes.
"Stupid Fire Nation craftsmanship," he muttered under his breath as he buried his hand in his robe to hide the blood and, with some trepidation, bent down to pick up the knife from where it had skidded into a corner.
"Sokka!" called Ailin from the next room. "Where – is – that – knife?"
"Coming!" shouted Sokka, hurrying as fast as he could towards their room, where Katara and Ailin were still waiting. When he entered the room, Katara stared at him with her grave blue gaze, and Ailin held out her hand for the knife.
Sokka found he could not pass it to her. "Look – I'll do it."
"Oh? And what do you know about cutting hair?"
"I –" Sokka caught sight of Katara's small brown neck, fully visible now that Ailin had lifted the plait up in order to cut it. He couldn't let Ailin put a knife anywhere near that neck. The thought of his mother filled his mind. He still had not recovered his memory, but he trusted his sister's account of events. "Look, it's difficult to explain, but I'm sure I can do it –"
"Sokka. If you trust me, you'll pass me the knife." Ailin knew all to well what was on the boy's mind, and she could not suppress the thought that this was a test of the siblings' trust in her to keep them safe.
Finding no way out of it, Sokka surrendered the knife into Ailin's small, wrinkled hand. He told himself he was being irrational – he knew he was being irrational. Ailin was perfectly safe, but somehow the disloyal thought that she might not be trustworthy still lingered in his mind. When he was younger, his grandmother – with the previous raid on the Southern Water Tribe clear in her mind – had impressed upon him the simple advice that he should never trust anybody in red. "If you see someone wearing red, Sokka, you run home and tell your father immediately. Don't stop for even a second."
And yet here he was, standing before Ailin, handing her a knife.
Ailin lifted Katara's plait a little higher, and Sokka's palms began to sweat. The cut on his hand stung painfully.
And then, in one swift movement, Ailin brought the knife down towards Katara's neck –
"GET THAT THING AWAY FROM MY SISTER!"
Sokka's reaction was so fast it was involuntary. He stepped forward, knocking the knife from Ailin's hand; it missed her face by inches and slammed into the wall on the far side of the room with an almighty crash, sliding down to land on the floor.
"Sokka!" cried Katara and Ailin in unison, both equally shocked at this irrational outburst.
Sokka realised what he had done in the same moment, but unlike the others he remained totally still, his hand still raised in midair, his expression holding something of a mix between disbelief and shame.
"Ailin –"
"Well," said Ailin, cutting across Sokka with considerable skill and aplomb considering the situation, "that's one way to cut hair." There was a note of finality in her voice which told both the children that they were not to speak of this incident.
Lifting a hand tentatively to her hair, Katara realised that her plait had been severed clean off; her head felt strangely light, in both senses of the word. She was thoroughly bemused – and chilled – by her brother's actions. He was always the rational one, the one to think before he acted – and yet here he was, shouting spontaneously and at the top of his voice.
The Fire Nation was changing them.
She would not allow it.
However, Katara still felt changed when she stood before the mirror – her leg was just strong enough to support her – in her new attire.
It was Ailin's mirror, and was by far the most expensive-looking thing she had ever seen. Its frame was either made of gold or was an excellent imitation; a pair of dragons was carved into it, twining sinuously around the piece of oblong glass. She had gasped when she had seen it; Ailin had muttered "family heirloom" and left it at that.
But for all its elegance, it was not the mirror that amazed Katara as much as what she saw within it. Never before had she seen herself with such clarity; back in the South Pole, the only way to see your own reflection was to bend over a freezing pool or a dangerous patch of black ice, balancing precariously on the edge and squinting until maybe you could tell if your plait was askew. Now, however, she could see everything: the slightly ragged ends of the newly-cut hair that brushed her cheeks, the startling blue of her eyes, the slender curve of her brown neck… To her shame, because all good Water Tribe girls knew that vanity was a sin, she found she was entranced by her own appearance.
Eventually, however, her eyes travelled down to her clothing, so strange and new, especially when lit from behind by soft lamplight. Shadows pooled in the folds of her new red dress and towards the front of her face; the spaces beneath her brows were thrown into such deep shadow that she might as well have smeared charcoal over her eyelids. The effect was terrifying and beautiful to her: she looked sinister and lovely, and she was not sure she liked it. After all, she was only twelve.
You're still the same, said a voice inside her head. You're still Katara. You'll never be Rei.
Ailin had given her some new red robes. They were made for children, but Katara felt nothing like a child as she raised her hands to touch her face and the red fabric slid smoothly down her arms, almost liquid in its texture.
It felt as though she were bathed in blood. Everything was red; even her shoes were red, even the pins that pulled the top section of her hair back, revealing a wide forehead. She felt sick wearing Fire Nation clothes – as though she was a traitor to her own country.
Don't be stupid, she told herself. It's not as though wearing their clothes makes you Fire Nation. You're only pretending, and only for a little while, too.
"Well," said Ailin. "Don't you two look the picture."
For the first time since she had seen herself in the mirror, Katara remembered her brother's presence. She could see his reflection behind her: he did not look nearly as spooked as she did. In fact, he was quite enjoying watching himself – she smiled as he clenched his fist and a muscle bulged in his arm, followed by a grin that swelled even more across his face. There was no need to ask him how he felt about his clothing; he looked good in it, and – typical Sokka – he knew it.
"I do look like a picture," he said. "A very handsome picture. How about you, Katara?"
Shaking her head, Katara replied, "I don't mind it… but I'm not all that wild about it either."
"Aw, come on! You never had clothes like this back at – before, did you? Lighten up! Looking like this, we can walk through a Fire Nation town without being discovered – doesn't that appeal to you just a tiny, little, practically invisible bit?"
"Not really." Katara raised an eyebrow.
"Then how about this." He lowered his voice. "We could maybe do a little…" Sokka leant closer to Katara and whispered in her ear, "spying… while we're here. How does that sound?"
"I heard that," said Ailin sourly from behind them, but to her surprise she found Sokka's comment amusing rather than insulting. He was just a boy, bless him – and she knew what boys of his age were like. "And I'm warning you, if you even so much as try to spy on my country –"
"It's our country too, remember," interrupted Sokka. His comment stopped Ailin in her tracks for a few seconds. "I mean – we're pretending it is. For now."
"Well," she said. "I suppose it is and all."
With some difficulty due to her leg, Katara turned away from her reflection and clutched at her mother's necklace; it was only just hidden beneath her high collar. I am still Water Tribe.
"Tomorrow," continued Ailin, "You join Fire Nation society."
Deep in the night, Sokka was finally left to his own thoughts. Their lessons had been exhausting, and he had barely had any time at all in which to plan a way to return to the South; now, he finally found that a solid plan was forming in his tired mind.
Tomorrow, they would join Fire Nation society. Sokka was not scared – how hard could fooling Fire Nation citizens be? As far as he could tell, propaganda had managed to fool all of them already, and he was cleverer than propaganda.
No, Sokka was excited. He was looking forward to seeing a little of Fire Nation culture – before leaving it. Hopefully tomorrow.
The marketplace was sure to be crowded. Once they were there, it would be easy to slip away from Ailin for long enough to charter a boat, or steal one if it was necessary, and then they would be away.
A/N: Well. Firstly: I'm sorry for the long absence.
And secondly, two things to ask:
- The difference probably wasn't all that much, but I used a different style of writing in this chapter from the others. Does it work?
- Please tell me whether this story is… working. Lately I've been thinking it's a little too off-canon. Is the whole premise a bit too... crazy?
And one thing to say:
Wow, I just realised I screwed up Katara and Sokka's past timelines majorly. Hakoda left after the Southern Raid (new episodes! Eee!), and searched for a master for Katara because she'd discovered her bending by then, and then he left. Sorry, but I'm sticking with the version of events in this story – it is an AU, after all. I just feel really stupid.
Thanks for reading!