Under Attack/Child of Two Worlds
3
After much ruminating and mulling it over, much hesitation and uncertainty, that morning, if it could even be called that, marked the first time Sokka picked up his hunting gear. It had taken him a long time to build that resolve… but someone had helped him do so.
"Ready, son?"
Hakoda smiled by the igloo's door, his bags and weapons slung over his shoulders. After Sokka had confessed to wanting to try his hand at hunting once more, Hakoda offered to join him in an outing once he was ready. Delaying it would serve no purpose, Sokka had reasoned… so he had decided to do it today.
His father's gray hairs, and the new wrinkles on his face, often could go ignored… but sometimes their presence would take Sokka by surprise, much as he suspected his own changes startled Hakoda. Their last memories of each other were as distant from their new reality as could be… and perhaps that was for the best. They hadn't parted ways on the best of terms, and Sokka knew he was at fault for that… but his father's kind smiles and warm hand on his shoulder ever reminded him that what most mattered to Hakoda was his son's safety, wellbeing and happiness: all their past conflicts could be set aside without much struggle. After spending so long away from his father, fearing he might never meet him again, Sokka felt the same way about him.
"Yeah… ready, Dad," he offered Hakoda a small grin that Hakoda welcomed with a proud nod.
He pushed the door open, and they stepped outside together. It was early still, but several hunters already had started their own preparations for their respective outings. Sokka and Hakoda carried a soft, dim lantern that they'd mainly use for tracking any paw prints of non-hibernating animals if they came across any, and to make sure they'd find their way through the tricky, icy terrain of the South Pole. They waved at the other hunters as they passed them by and continued onwards, crossing the open gates at the wall, buffeted immediately by the icy breeze once they were past the safety of the village's enclosure.
"Might be better if we don't spend too long outside…" Hakoda said, glancing up at the overcast sky. "Could be we'll have a storm upon us soon."
"I suppose the weather had been too nice so far," Sokka sighed, shaking his head. "You sure it's wise to go hunting today, then? I don't mind waiting for better weather to try…"
"Good to know you wouldn't mind," Hakoda smiled, but he shook his head. "But let's see if we can find something quickly. If it's not looking promising, we'll come back before the weather takes a turn for the worse."
"Alright," Sokka said, with a weak smile.
"Then off we go, eh?" he said, patting his son's shoulder gently as they continued their trek into the wintery landscape.
The obvious choice in prey during the winter were seals: the creatures didn't hibernate and provided the Tribe with many resources to work with, not only as far as food was concerned, but also for crafting tools and weapons. They also reproduced quickly and effectively enough that hunting one on occasion wouldn't represent a severe hazard for any groups of seals living by the South Pole's shores.
Hakoda and Sokka didn't talk much as they braved the cold weather, walking as smoothly as they could across the snowy grounds. The seals' shores stood at a fair distance from the Tribe past a few tall, dark mountains: there was a crossing through the mountains, frequented by the Tribe's hunters, and the two men would hike it until they reached the other side.
As ever, they were greeted by the dark ocean once they'd traversed the shortcut fully. The moonlight lit up the snow, allowing them to glimpse the seals as they lounged lazily by the water. A few would dive into the sea on occasion, where they would become the predators rather than the prey.
"Alright… let's go carefully. We don't need to rile up the whole herd," Hakoda said, and Sokka nodded.
"I remember. The outliers," he said, softly. Hakoda smiled.
"Didn't expect you'd forget, but… the way you talked about being out of practice, it sounded like you'd lost all your hunter's training and instincts," he teased his son. Sokka smiled.
"I suppose I could have. Traded them for fighting instincts, instead?" he said, tossing a light barb at his father, who chuckled and shook his head.
"You most certainly did no such trade, my boy. You're surely better at this than you remember, even now," Hakoda determined. "Alright… let's head left. It should be easier to target one of those, I believe."
Sokka nodded, following Hakoda's lead. Hunting ever proved an invigorating, nerve-wracking practice for him in his younger years, for failure would be devastating. He had to find food for the whole Tribe back then, even if it was only a small group of women and children… any mistakes would have cost him their lives, a trade-off he refused to accept. The return of the men had allowed him to share those duties with others, and the merge of all Tribes had seen a spike of growth for the Southern Water Tribe's food reserves, all in all… but those dark times hadn't lost their grip on Sokka's heart. He'd still fought his hardest, feeling an unwanted sense of foreboding every time he found prey that might slip through his fingers…
Today, strangely, he didn't feel that sensation nestling in his chest, at least, not for now. This time, he followed Hakoda down the mountain's ridges, carefully following the path that would lead them far from the bulk of the cluster of seals. As always, a few creatures lingered on the outskirts of the group, making them their ideal targets.
"That one, at the ridge," Hakoda said, raising a gloved hand towards it.
Sokka nodded upon glimpsing the sole creature, distant enough from the others that the herd wouldn't pose much threat to the two hunters if they attacked it, but close enough that the rest of the group of seals would surely realize they were in danger.
"Want to do the honors?" Hakoda asked, as he dimmed the lantern's fire further. Sokka clenched his jaw. "We'll still have to move in closer, but…"
"We won't have to. I think I can get it from here. We'll be safe enough if we stay behind these rocks if the others want revenge or so…" Sokka reasoned, reaching for the boomerang he carried across his back. Hakoda blinked blankly.
"Huh… well, after our duel, I suppose nothing should surprise me anymore, coming from you," Hakoda smiled, nudging him gently with his elbow. "Alright then. Let's see how badly out of shape you are, Sokka."
His father's teasing remark landed on a slightly smirking Sokka. He focused on the seal again afterwards, drawing his boomerang carefully. It was a long distance, certainly, and the throw would need to be powerful to deliver quick, swift and deadly damage. He seldom resorted to his boomerang to deliver the worst possible damage in the Gladiator League… but it had often dealt meaningful blows to his enemies, especially when they least expected it. Such would be the case now, too…
After taking a deep breath and measuring the strength necessary to toss the boomerang across that large expanse of ice, Sokka's eyes narrowed as he aimed the weapon. Hakoda watched him intently, intrigued by the enhanced focus he saw in his son now, as opposed to how he worked in the past: he took in his target and worked towards taking it down, no distractions, no carelessness. His brow furrowed as his azure gaze grew more frigid than the air they breathed…
He swung his arm forward without holding back any of his power once he released his weapon: the boomerang arched upwards.
Hakoda watched the weapon's trajectory as it soared towards the sky rather than horizontally. Sokka didn't intend for the boomerang to return to him, putting forth all the strength of the weapon's flight and momentum into a single journey instead.
It seemed to soar and spin for a long time, almost fading into the darkness of the sky… but then it swung down, beckoned by gravity, still spinning most lethally once it struck its prey.
The effect on the rest of the seals was immediate: a symphony of alarmed barks and bleats rang all across the shore, and many of them leapt into the water in a panic, no doubt warning each other that they were under attack. Sokka and Hakoda waited by their rocks, watching as the creatures escaped in a rush… Hakoda's heavy hand fell upon Sokka's shoulder, and the son bit his lip with uncertainty as his father grinned proudly at him.
"Quite good, for being out of practice," he said. Sokka smiled a little.
"Well, that wasn't quite a hunting technique… more of a gladiator technique," he said, sourly. Hakoda's hand tightened gently over his shoulder, a comforting gesture that only caused Sokka to flinch, alerted that he was allowing his misery to get the better of him again. "Well, not that I used it that way very often anymore. I didn't have to kill a lot of people after…"
"After you left the Amateur League, is it?" Hakoda said. Sokka swallowed hard and nodded. "I see…"
"I think they've cleared out now," Sokka said, gesturing at their prey. "We can go get it."
"Right. Off we go, then," Hakoda patted Sokka's shoulder once more.
Together, they hiked to where the seal's corpse lingered. It had been a swift kill, effective and immediate: Sokka certainly preferred it that way.
"Clean your boomerang first, we'll haul it out of here once you're done," Hakoda said, and Sokka nodded promptly. "We're lucky the seals have been at predictable locations lately. With the awful weather we had last year, they'd fled to islands north of here, apparently, escaping from all the blizzards…"
"That's why you were having so much trouble finding food?" Sokka asked, wiping the blood off his weapon with the nearby snow.
"One of the reasons, yeah. We're better prepared this year, fortunately, and the seals aren't beyond our reach, at least," Hakoda said, smiling a little. "We'll get by, for sure."
"Did you use up all the money?" Sokka asked, impulsively. He regretted it immediately, for a painful jab struck his heart as his father worked on binding the seal properly with strong ropes.
For a moment, he hoped his father hadn't heard his question… but in the silence of the South Pole, only affected by the tide brushing against the icy shore, it wasn't likely that Hakoda would have failed to hear him.
"I don't believe so, no," he answered, finally. Sokka's stomach twisted and turned at his response. "Though I can't say I know for sure. Zuko would have kept whatever was left from the purchases, he took care of that himself, from my understanding…"
"Right," Sokka said, nodding as he put his boomerang away at last. "Want some help?"
"I think I have it well in hand, but if you're offering…" Hakoda smiled, passing another rope to his son. "We haven't needed to do it again, by the way. Returning to Whaletail Island to find more food, I mean…"
"Good to know," Sokka said, with a tight-lipped grin.
"I don't know if we'll have to at any other point in time… I almost hope not, frankly," Hakoda admitted. "But, if you don't mind me saying so… that money saved our lives. Our whole tribe."
Sokka swallowed hard, grinding his teeth together when he was immediately choked up by Hakoda's admission. So far, the only one to bring up the topic was Suki, who, by definition, always had been the easiest person with whom he could talk about the Fire Nation… about Azula. Yet the truth was that Sokka usually fled from the topic, and most Water Tribe people had no interest in pressing it, especially now that he appeared calmer than he'd been on his first days of returning to the South Pole.
Hakoda had been just as respectful of Sokka's need for distance, of his silences, as everyone else, if not more so. He had comforted Sokka when he'd broken down at the end of that feast… he had spoken words that had meant the world to his son, too. In that moment, Sokka had found far more similarities between himself and his father than he'd ever known could exist… similarities that had nothing to do with the many regards in which he'd always dreamt to follow Hakoda's example. The Chief had grieved over so many losses throughout his life… the loss of his father, the loss of his wife, the loss of his best friend, and then his son had vanished, too. Many members of the Tribe had died as well, and each final farewell would hurt anew, for no matter how practiced in grief one might be, the pain could never be kept at bay. It wasn't something where experience helped, as far as Sokka could tell… but experience did help in empathizing with others. In understanding each other's sorrows where others might fail to relate to them fully.
Sokka had made progress lately… perhaps more than he thought he would, when it was almost two months since he'd lost Azula. His pain was no less real… but he had learned to walk again. To talk, to share his thoughts, to speak of what he'd thought he'd never have the strength to, even if under the guise and masquerades of Jing and Wentai…
Perhaps he was wrong to think he could, or should, share such thoughts with his father. One part of his heart refused to do it, wanting to hide away the pain, to keep it to himself, in a bid to protect himself as selfish as it was poisonous. The other part of his heart, though, knew that Hakoda would understand. Even if he wouldn't see eye to eye with Sokka, throughout… he'd understand.
"I'm glad it helped," he finally managed to say, breaking through the silence when he finished fastening the knot around the creature's body. "It… it was what she would've wanted. What we hoped for… and it's great that it paid off."
"It is," Hakoda smiled, nodding positively at his son. "I wish you had seen the feast we threw… though, of course, we didn't spend all the food right then and there, if you thought we had…"
"Good to know that you didn't," Sokka said, with a weak grin. "I wouldn't have expected you guys to be reckless with the food distribution…"
"We weren't, we weren't," Hakoda chuckled. "Though, I must say… we did eat quite some unusual meals for the Tribe's standards. Most of those meats… I'd only ever tasted some of them while I was out in the war, and then there were others I'd never eaten before. And the spices…"
"Oh? Did you like them?" Sokka asked, surprised and amused.
"Well… they were a little overwhelming," Hakoda admitted. Sokka chuckled as he hoisted the creature by the head, and Hakoda by the tail. "I suppose you built up better resistance against them while you lived there, of course… frequent exposure should serve that purpose, huh?"
"I had thought it would… but it didn't work as well as that, frankly," Sokka admitted, smiling weakly as they returned to their previous spot: they'd left their packs there, along with a large enough basket to transport their catch, which Hakoda had carried in his rucksack. "At least, I didn't build up enough resistance to endure the Spicy Ramen Challenge."
"The what?" Hakoda repeated, perplexed. To his delight, his son laughed suddenly, much as he did at times, when retelling the story of Jing and Wentai.
"It was… a contest we joined. Azula and I," Sokka whispered. The pain jabbed again… but tenderly, smoothly, no longer akin to an uncontrolled hemorrhage but rather, the bleeding out often done to weed out poison from a wound. "It… it was shortly after we went to Whaletail Island, actually. She was overwhelmed with work, so we took a vacation for a week to help her unwind. We visited a few places, but the first was Firelight Town, and… and I was hungry, so we went looking for food. We found an inn called the Dragon's Casserole, and they were offering a special deal: you'd eat for free if you could finish ten bowls of spicy ramen in one go. I… assumed I could do it. I figured, ten bowls? Not that big a deal…"
"Uh-oh," Hakoda grimaced, and Sokka laughed again.
"She warned me I wasn't going to withstand the spices… I taunted her, said she wasn't enough of a glutton to eat all ten courses," he said. "In the end, we wound up challenging both the restaurant and each other… but mostly each other. I was so confident, but… the spices were far stronger than anything I'd ever tasted. Than anything I've tasted since."
"Burned through your tongue?" Hakoda asked. Sokka snorted.
"Felt like they would, yeah," he said. "Meanwhile, Azula… she was in ramen heaven, pretty much."
"Oh? She liked the wild spices?" Hakoda smiled. "That… probably makes perfect sense in a firebender, I suppose. Though I don't think I've heard Zuko complain even once about lacking spices in food…"
"I don't think it's a firebender thing… it's just an Azula thing," Sokka said, with a weak smile. "Nobody ever ate anything quite as spicy as she did. Even in the Palace… they'd make special, extra spicy courses of food for her in the kitchen, wilder than everyone else's. The first time we went to the Earth Kingdom she seemed disgusted with all the meals… I think, in the end, it just boiled down to her palate being far too used to all her favorite, crazy spices. By the last time we were there, she… she liked their food far better than before, I think."
"That's good to know," Hakoda said, with a gentle smile. "I suppose she learned to appreciate variety… though I guess she still preferred her meals as spicy as could be, huh?"
"Yeah, if she had a choice, yeah…" Sokka nodded, taking in a deep breath – the scent of the seal snuck to his nostrils, and he heaved out the air quickly.
They returned to silence as they focused on bringing the seal to the mountainside. They only spoke to give each other warnings about unstable ice or deeper snow than it appeared, until finally they reached their goal. Hakoda pulled out the large, folded basket from his pack and together they hauled the seal into place, locking the basket safely before strapping it to both their waists with a set of ropes, wound together as harnesses. They'd carry it together, sharing the load as they returned home before the storm started to pour down upon them.
"This was pretty quick, huh?" Sokka said, glancing at his father with a small, appreciative smile. Hakoda nodded approvingly.
"Thanks to your perfect aim. It was a great throw, the poor thing didn't even hear it coming," Hakoda said, patting his son's shoulder affectionately again. "Now, let's see if we can outrun the weather again… though if things get bad, I guess we'll look for someplace to take refuge in the mountain."
"Right," Sokka said, putting forth none of his usual qualms about caves. Strangely enough, the matter seemed insignificant nowadays, perhaps because he'd found plenty of cruelty in the world over the last months, cruelty that seemed far worse than that which had afflicted Rhone's soul.
They would hoist the basket and carry it together at first, then they would simply drag it over the snow on their way back to the village. The mountain path, as much as it was quite smooth, had enough complications that could severely damage the basket if they dragged it carelessly upon the rugged terrain all along. So, side by side, father and son began their trek back through the mountain, an easy silence between them… a silence that was broken when Hakoda suddenly cleared his throat.
"And… who won?"
"Huh?"
"The Spicy Ramen Challenge," Hakoda said, with a small, mischievous smile. "You didn't say, so…"
To Sokka's surprise, his father's surge of curiosity didn't sit ill with him in the least. He actually smiled, his heart appeased, perhaps even more than whenever Mari begged to know more about the stories he'd shared with her. He wasn't hiding behind alter egos with his father… he wasn't embellishing the story for Hakoda's sake, somehow. No… he had told him the pure truth so far, and his father wanted to know more about it, still.
"Neither of us," Sokka answered, still smiling. "Or maybe we both did? At this point… it's hard to say."
"How does that work? You won and lost at once?" Hakoda asked, amused. Sokka chuckled.
"Well, the spices were out of my comfort zone, like she said they'd be… and the amount of food was outside hers, like I said it'd be. By the final dishes, I couldn't stand the heat and broke the rule of only drinking one glass of water to chase away the burning sensations, and she only managed to sample one bite from the last bowl before she surrendered. But after I soothed the stinging in my mouth a bit, I, uh… finished both her bowl and mine."
"What? You ate them both?!"
"Is that really so surprising…?" Sokka said, with a guilty grin… that was followed up by a resounding bout of laughter from Hakoda's lips. Before long, Sokka joined him with softer laughter of his own.
Hakoda asked for more details on the wild spices, flinching at the descriptions Sokka made of the strange sensations, astonished that there was any food out there even his son would be daunted by. They had crossed the gorge when the first flecks of snow began to pour down, and as the skies seemed quite dark, Hakoda determined the safest course of action would be to take refuge in a nearby cave by the mountainside.
"It's not so deep," Hakoda told his son, as they hauled their prey into the cave with difficulty. "I've had to hide away in here a few times… though I doubt we'll have to wait long today. The clouds don't look that bad now that the snow's falling…"
"Right…" Sokka released a breath, unfastening the basket from his waist and pulling it to the cave's wall.
Hakoda released a breath before digging into his bag again: as a norm, every hunter had to bring food for themselves and some bones to serve as tinder, in case they were stranded in a blizzard that took a worse turn than expected. Within moments, the Chief crafted a small fire, filling their cave with warmth and a gentle glow that matched that of the lantern they kept by the cave's opening.
"Well… there we are. Now we wait," Hakoda said, with a sigh.
Sokka had taken his seat by the cave's furthermost wall, finding his father's assessment had been accurate. The cavern didn't swirl into the depths of the mountain, the way many others did. It was as good as a small opening in the mountainside, suited for the purpose of offering refuge to tired hunters.
"It's a safe cave," Hakoda reassured him, and Sokka's stomach clenched upon hearing the distinct tone in which his father spoke this time. "If the snow starts piling up much, we'll shovel it away from the entrance."
"It… it should be fine. It's okay, Dad. I don't feel unsafe here," Sokka responded. Hakoda smiled a little.
"Good. I guess a lot has changed, but I figured you might still be apprehensive about caves, after all…"
"I'm… not as apprehensive as I was once," Sokka admitted, swallowing hard. "Not that I'll pretend they're not dangerous, but… there's worse things than being stuck in a cave."
Such as getting out and becoming a mad killer, hellbent on revenge. The thought brought a frown to his face, his gloved hands tightening around his own elbows as he sat, cross-legged and with arms folded, staring at the small fire. The glow of the flames revealed the change of his expression to Hakoda, however, who only gazed at his son in silent compassion and uncertainty.
"You… you were right, you know?" Sokka finally said, and Hakoda raised an eyebrow with puzzled curiosity.
"About…?"
"Well… everything, I guess, but… about what you told us when you returned from the war. About Rhone."
Hakoda's nervous, calm demeanor suddenly shifted into wary, unsettled confusion. His brow was more furrowed than Sokka's, a glint of fear gleaming in his blue eyes.
"What… what's that supposed to mean?" Hakoda asked. Sokka gritted his teeth as he glared at the fire… fire like the one that had scorched Rhone's corpse, right before his eyes.
"He did it. All of it," Sokka whispered. "Killed his parents… betrayed the Water Tribe."
Hakoda's silence compelled Sokka to glance at his father… to find him horrorstruck, eyes wide, lips parted and trembling lightly. It was one thing to hear the story, to struggle to believe it, even then… and another to hear his son speak those words with no hint of doubt, of uncertainty. Again, a part of Sokka's long story appeared to rear its head, and this time, Hakoda would be the only member of his audience.
"He… became a gladiator. Called himself Kinslayer," Sokka explained, bitterly. Hakoda covered his mouth with his ungloved hand, shaking his head as he struggled to believe Sokka's words. "He challenged me, and… that big scar I have on my back? That one's his doing."
"Sokka…" Hakoda gasped. His son gritted his teeth, unwilling to meet his father's eyes anymore as he continued his tale.
"He owned up to it then. Told me I didn't understand… said he'd betrayed no one with his actions. It took me some time to learn why he thought so," Sokka said, gritting his teeth. He could speak of Rhone, share his overwhelming rage over how his former friend had acted… even own up to his death without regrets. But sharing this with his father… it would be hard, even if he suspected it was also necessary. "I came up with… an explanation before I met him a second time. Figured it out because of some things Zhao said, and…"
"Zhao? Admiral Zhao?" Hakoda cut him off. Sokka glanced at his father to find that, as much as all the information he'd shared so far had taken Hakoda by surprise, that one tidbit seemed the first to truly displease him.
"Guess I didn't mention him much so far, huh…?" Sokka whispered. Hakoda grimaced. "He's a weird man. The way he acts… it feels like he's a much more reasonable guy than Ozai could ever be. Sometimes it felt like he truly respected me… I wouldn't be alive anymore if he didn't, I suspect. But he also made… made terrible choices. He's done a lot of harm in more ways than I can even imagine, I'm sure…"
"Certainly," Hakoda said, scowling. "His fleet was responsible for the destruction of many Earth Kingdom ships, and who knows how many deaths can be pinned on him. He came after us, once… fortunately, Water Tribe ships still outrun their machines when the wind's in our favor. If he'd caught up to us… I have no doubt he would've butchered every warrior he'd gotten his hands on."
"And then he went north and tried to do that there, too," Sokka sighed. "It's just… really messed up. People are complicated. Kindness and cruelty shouldn't go hand-in-hand… but it does in some people. People like him and Rhone, at least…"
"What did you learn from him that had anything to do with Rhone, though?" Hakoda asked, confused. Sokka took a deep breath.
"I… can't really remember why, on one day, he spoke to me about the Southern Raiders. The bastards who attacked us… who, according to him, were tasked with capturing every waterbender long before I was born. When I told him they'd attacked when I was young, he seemed confused. They'd apparently celebrated their final raid many years before that… so he thought it was strange that any attacks had happened later. I told him I wasn't mixing anything up, my mother had died that day, and… and afterwards, he explained that waterbenders were made prisoners until one woman escaped capture. The Fire Lord's orders were usually to capture waterbenders, not kill them, let alone kill non-benders… so he guessed that escaped prisoner had changed things. He offered to put me in touch with the man who led their last attack, but I refused. I… I didn't know what I'd do if I met the guy, and… and whatever I did, it wouldn't have brought Mom back. So, I thought… there was no point to it."
"Right…" Hakoda almost barked, his voice unusually jarring. His whole body trembled at Sokka's words… at his still unlinked explanations. "Vengeance… would have amounted to nothing. It didn't when I… when I tried to fight in the war, and it wouldn't have worked now, either."
"The true culprit was Fire Lord Azulon," Sokka whispered. "Even if the bastard who killed her had enjoyed his assignment… the ultimate blame is on someone who's already dead."
"Of course," Hakoda said, nodding and swallowing hard. "But… what does this have to do with Rhone?"
Sokka gritted his teeth, closing his eyes as he dropped his head against the wall.
"I… didn't want to think about it. But that night, my mind just… it went wild as I tried to piece together what Zhao had said. If they thought they'd killed every waterbender, but then sent a raid later… didn't it mean they'd learned there was another waterbender, somehow? It's also very strange that they attacked on that day and never returned. As if… as if they thought they'd actually killed the waterbender as they were told to. As if no one had given them any information that revealed Katara was still alive…"
"Wait… you're saying they had a source," Hakoda scowled, staring at Sokka in chagrin. "They… they knew about Katara? How…?"
The easiest, most instinctive explanation struck him then. His sudden silence, his horrorstruck features… all of it told Sokka his father had reached the right conclusion before he'd spoken it aloud.
"Only… only three people had left the Tribe when I was a kid," Sokka whispered, gritting his teeth. "Only Rhone and his parents. Everyone else… if anyone else in the Tribe had been the source, they would've revealed Katara had survived afterwards. The raids would have continued until they got her. But if it was them… they wouldn't have known, because they were already gone. So…"
"T-they were captured by the Fire Nation? Forced to reveal the existence of our waterbenders just to survive?" Hakoda asked, desperate. Sokka gritted his teeth and shook his head.
"Didn't sound like it… the way Rhone put it," Sokka whispered, gritting his teeth. "I confronted him some time later. There were… murders in the Fire Nation Capital, we had no idea who was responsible at first. Rhone happened to be there at that time, too, and… I questioned him. I watched him to make sure he wasn't doing anything sketchy. We talked, and… it came up. He always said I shouldn't talk of what I didn't understand, so… I made it clear I might have understood far more than he realized I did. I don't know how he found out… I guess his parents didn't tell him the truth right away? Whether out of shame, or out of guilt or just because they thought he'd never understand. Not that what they did could ever be understood, but… as far as I can tell, he killed them as soon as he learned of what their intent had been. When he learned they… they'd tried to have Katara killed. And he thought they'd succeeded."
"Katara…?" Hakoda repeated, eyes filling with tears as Sokka gazed at him mournfully.
"He didn't know Mom had died instead. S-so… I'm guessing Mom lied to the Southern Raider bastard… said she was the waterbender. A-Azula says… they wouldn't have waited for a demonstration to make sure it was her, so…"
"So, Kya… Kya sacrificed herself for…?" Hakoda asked.
Sokka couldn't answer through anything other than a nod: the sight of his father in tears was rare, even these days. He had always been stalwart and strong… he only remembered seeing him cry after Kya's death, and upon seeing Hakoda again, after he'd woken in Zuko's igloo. But there was no containing the tears now… not when he'd only just discovered the truth behind his wife's actions from many years ago.
He covered his mouth with his hands, tears streaming freely down his cheeks as he closed his eyes tightly. Sobs shook his shoulders, even if he tried to contain the sounds… and Sokka's own heart clenched at the sight of such a vulnerable side of his father.
Sokka crawled towards his father's side, near the cavern's entrance. Much as it had been months ago, when Sokka had broken down over the sacrifice Azula had made to save the Tribe and Hakoda had held him, now it was the son who held the father, wrapping his arms strongly around his body, rubbing Hakoda's back gently as the man's head fell on his shoulders. Sizzling tears fell upon Sokka's parka, as his father shuddered with every sob. It wasn't fair… it wasn't right for him to mourn over a woman as kind, as good, as selfless as Kya had been. She should have lived… she should have been here, raising her family all along, encouraging her husband to live proudly every day, as he did the same for her…
"I'm sorry, Dad," Sokka said, softly. Hakoda shook his head, and Sokka gritted his teeth. "I… I didn't want Katara to know. T-that's why I… why I haven't said anything about Rhone to anyone else. She… she'll blame herself, I know she will, and…"
"I-it won't… w-won't do her any good. Please… don't do it," Hakoda said, sobbing against his son's shoulder. "She… she has enough burdens as it is. Rhone… his actions, she'd blame herself for those, too…"
"Guess so… but whoever died or lived, Rhone still acted as he did," Sokka said, gritting his teeth as he rubbed his father's back gently.
"There was… a reason, though. He didn't simply lose his mind, then…" Hakoda said, sniffing as he tried to sit upright again, though Sokka's arm remained around his shoulders, keeping him steady and close to himself. "He was… avenging Katara, or Kya, without his awareness…?"
"I guess, but… he shouldn't have done it anyway," Sokka said. To his surprise, Hakoda nodded.
"I can't say I would've done any better than he did, had I known… they were our friends," Hakoda said, snarling as he glared at the fire. "We… we had our meals together. You and him, you played often, and they… they even talked in passing about how Rhone and Katara might be a good match, once they were older. They were upset when the cave accident happened, but… but that would never justify their actions. This… this revenge of theirs, nothing could justify it. Nothing."
"No, nothing could. Nothing would," Sokka said, nodding. Hakoda breathed out and shook his head. "But… Rhone wasn't all that sane anyway, Dad."
"I know, I understand, but…"
"You don't yet," Sokka said, softly. Hakoda frowned, glancing at him in confusion.
"Why do you say…? Was he killing those people?" he asked. "You said… you suspected him?"
"He wasn't the culprit back then… Ozai was," Sokka said, bitterly. Hakoda's frown returned to his face immediately. "He wanted to kill everyone working for the White Lotus… an organization that's tried to destabilize his rule a few times. I resented them for enough reasons, but… after everything, I almost wish they'd succeeded now. Anyway, at that point, Ozai… there's an assassin who serves him, some strange man with corrupt, black fire, who could make himself invisible at will, and he was killing everyone he believed was part of the White Lotus. Azula… she was beside herself when we found out. Ozai was killing his own people, spreading chaos and fear all across the city, all be it on some ego trip to prove himself stronger than the White Lotus, I guess. Rhone's sponsor was part of the group. We only managed to save him… the others died. I helped Rhone get away, and… I thought I'd done the right thing. I thought… I might never see him again, but as long as he could make something better of himself, that'd be fine. We didn't part ways on the worst terms, but… but I was wrong. Of all the people Ozai's fucking assassin could've killed… the only one he should've caught was Rhone."
"W-why? Why do you say that…?" Hakoda asked, shivering again. Sokka gritted his teeth, tightening his grip on his father's shoulders.
"I… had a strange dream once. Near a swamp with… spiritual powers," Sokka said, glancing at his father almost guiltily. "I didn't really believe in anything spiritual… I didn't either, that night. Then I actually met a spirit later, and…"
"You truly met a spirit? A solid, corporeal spirit?" Hakoda asked, perplexed. His tears had slowed, and he dabbed at them with a thumb as Sokka shrugged. "You… you have been through far too much in too short a time. I mean, you've been gone a long time, Sokka, but the more stories you share, the more I wonder how all that happened in less than twenty years…"
"Heh… guess it feels like it didn't happen all that fast when you actually live through it," Sokka said, with a watery grin. "Either way, what I dreamt was… that Rhone was going to find a spear, him and a group of men. T-then… then I glimpsed Azula's body, unmoving, and… and I woke up to find she'd had a strange dream of her own, too. Everyone else around us had weird dreams. But many of them dreamt of… of impossible things, or of past events. Me? I… I was dreaming of the future, Dad. Of… of what Rhone meant to do."
"He gathered people? He attacked… the Princess?" Hakoda asked. Sokka chewed on his lip more violently than he should have.
"He found a spiritual weapon. A horrific one, at that. The… the Bloodlust Spear," he said. Hakoda frowned. "If you've never heard of it, it's no surprise, but… it was an old spear, possessed by the bitter, vengeful spirit of its wielder who was betrayed in battle, or so. It… it killed everything it cut into, not genuinely by chasing blood but by… by consuming and corrupting their chi. Rhone found it, somehow… I guess he found it because the universe has the most disgusting sense of humor ever. Either way, he… he gathered a following and charged into the Fire Nation with that damn spear in hand. It… it took us a while to figure out what he was up to, to even figure out it was him, and then to come up with any plans to fight back as best we could. Ozai wasn't in the city then… he'd left Azula in charge briefly. She… she came up with the strategies, and she wanted me to lead a group of reinforcements that would take down Rhone's allies, or Rhone himself, if he didn't split his group as I'd guessed he might. I didn't want to leave her, but… she convinced me to do it. So, I… I did my part. I helped fight back, I did what I could to save soldiers from this mad northern waterbender Rhone allied himself with… but when I was arranging safe transport for the injured on the airships, they told me she was… s-she was fighting him. He was chasing her, and she appeared to be wounded…"
Hakoda frowned: his arm looped around Sokka's waist upon recognizing that Sokka's comforting embrace now seemed to seek comfort for himself, rather than providing it for his father. He shivered violently, but after a pause, he continued.
"I… I went after him. I threw a hot-air balloon at him…" Sokka said, shaking his head. "But I… I couldn't keep him from hurting her. He'd hurt her shoulder somehow, she was bleeding, but she wasn't out of it yet. I went to help her… she and her dragon would keep the spear at bay, while I fought Rhone…"
"The… the spear? How? Could it… move on its own?" Hakoda asked, puzzled. Sokka nodded, and the man's eyes widened.
"They destroyed it," Sokka said, swallowing hard. "With… with my sword. I tossed it at her, she… Azula used her fire, and her dragon's, to neutralize the spirit's corruption long enough to cut it cleanly and destroy it. But… the corruption spread out of the spear after that. S-some of it leaked into her wound. It festered inside her and… and it damn near killed her."
Hakoda shuddered. His mouth was open, but no words came out as Sokka snarled viciously at the fire, tears streaming down his face now.
"I… killed him for it," Sokka said, fists tightened so much his cold bones resented him for the violence of the gesture. "When the spear was finished, I… I ran him through. I killed him."
"Sokka…" Hakoda managed, raising his hand to his son's head, which Sokka tilted down as he shook his head.
"I don't regret it… I know I had to. I gave him a chance to… to make something of himself. He had full freedom to do whatever the hell he wanted, once his sponsor and him were saved, but… but the son of a bitch decided he'd destroy the whole Fire Nation with that chance. Worse yet, he… he wanted to kill her. I… I couldn't let it happen. I wouldn't. That he even touched her at all was… it was unforgivable. S-so… I don't regret it. Even if… if I hate that there was no other way, I don't regret it…"
"Oh, my boy," Hakoda sighed, and now it was his turn to hug Sokka tightly. "But she… she recovered, surely. If she brought you here, then…"
Sokka gritted his teeth: his silence sent a pang of distress straight through Hakoda's chest.
"Sokka…?"
"She… recovered. To a fault," Sokka swallowed hard, shivering again. "She couldn't even stay awake for long, at first. Still, she was getting better… but by the time I fought Toph, she wasn't fully healed yet. She… she couldn't fight back when…"
Hakoda gritted his teeth and pulled Sokka closer. His son shuddered, pain splitting him open as the tears poured down his cheeks. Hakoda released a breath, rubbing his son's back affectionately before glancing outside: the snow continued to fall, perhaps a bit more enthusiastically now. Sitting so close to the entrance wouldn't help, he thought… so he squeezed his son's shoulder gently, ushering him to move with him.
"Come. Let's… let's sit by that wall, Sokka," he said, wrapping an arm tightly around his son's waist as he led him there.
Sokka followed his father's instructions quietly, breathing deeply through his nose, exhaling through his mouth. A white fog hung in the air whenever he did so, dispelled in instants, but ever returning when he breathed out again. Shivers plagued his body still, even as he tried to restrain the tears… he hadn't intended to share this, only to tell his father the truth about Rhone. Now, however, he found himself sharing the worst moments of their story instead… the horrors he'd never wanted to tell Mari. The nightmares that plagued him still, that forced him awake most nights, reaching out to take Azula's hand… only to find it wasn't there. Only to find she wasn't there… and she might never be again.
The mournful thoughts were interrupted when his father offered him a chunk of jerky out of his pack of supplies. Sokka blinked the tears away before reaching for it. Hakoda patted his shoulder gently, munching on some jerky of his own, hoping the food would serve as some comfort for his heartbroken son.
"Don't feel the need to… to keep anything to yourself so you won't burden others, Sokka," Hakoda whispered. "At least, not with me. Your sister… I'd protect her from the worst of it, certainly. This… this tale about Rhone, she would be beyond distraught if she learns the truth. But… you don't have to hide it from me. Any of it. No matter how much it hurts, Sokka, because I…"
"Because you're my dad…" Sokka whispered, his voice still strained with tears. "Because you… you care about me. And you're always there for me… no matter what."
"That's right," Hakoda replied. Sokka gritted his teeth, glancing at him with uncertainty.
"I… I'm sorry I couldn't be like that too, for you. That… that I couldn't share your burdens the way you're trying to share mine…"
"Sokka, you were a child," Hakoda said, gazing at him mournfully. "Even… even asking you to be the man of the Tribe, to be responsible and protect everyone… it broke my heart to burden you with so much. Of course… you were capable of that and more. I knew you and Katara could take care of everyone, as well as yourselves… and I hoped to come home to reveal the war was over, that we'd won and saved everyone. But… that's not how it happened. I came home with nothing to show for my efforts… without my best friend, even. How… how could I ever burden you, a young man and a strong warrior with so many dreams and hopes, with everything that weighed me down?"
"I… I guess you felt that way. I can't even swear I… I would've been good at listening, if you'd shared anything at all," Sokka said, swallowing hard. "I was… a pretty stupid kid back then."
"You weren't…"
"I didn't understand a lot of things you tried to teach me," Sokka admitted, gazing at Hakoda remorsefully. "If I had, then…"
"As far as I can tell… we make our own mistakes. You learned enough from mine, too," Hakoda said, placing a hand on Sokka's forearm. "But your path was your own, Sokka. You've been crafting it for yourself since you were a child, and… and I always knew you were capable of grand things. Everything Zuko said, everything Kino learned about… all the news they brought of you convinced me that you were making the most of that devilishly clever mind of yours and achieving countless things I'd never thought possible. Nobody… nobody has been closer to changing this world for the better than you were, as far as I can tell."
"But I… I failed," Sokka said, drawing his knees up to his chest, letting his arms rest atop them. "I didn't change a damn thing, I… I probably just made everything worse in the end. For her… for us. For the Fire Nation… for the whole world. B-because, if he doesn't allow her to succeed him, after this… we'll all be worse off for it. Everyone will be worse off for it…"
"Well… I can't say for sure that you could have prevented those outcomes," Hakoda said, softly. "But I'm sure you reached far more people than you ever knew you had. If even a monster of a military leader like that Zhao would respect you… perhaps the Fire Nation, at large, will see the Fire Lord as in the wrong for his actions. Perhaps they'll side with her, and…"
"And if they don't? If… if they decide to condemn her, just to stay on his good side?" Sokka asked, bitterly. "Not everyone would do that, I know, but… damn it. I don't think anyone could even voice support for her without Ozai striking them down immediately. He… he was ready to kill me, but I don't think he would have stopped there, even if he had succeeded."
"No, I guess not…" Hakoda sighed. Sokka gritted his teeth, shaking his head as he buried his face in his forearms.
"None of this… none of this was supposed to happen," he said, with a soft sob. "T-the ending… the ending I'll tell Mari? It… it won't be this one. It won't be… Wentai and Jing torn from each other forever. I can't do it… b-because this shouldn't have happened in the first place."
"It certainly shouldn't have," Hakoda agreed, rubbing his son's back gently again.
"We had… plans. Ozai… he wanted to give her more power," Sokka sobbed. His admission startled Hakoda.
"More power…? As in…?"
"He was… going to name her High Governor. Of all the Fire Nation Colonies."
Hakoda fell silent, his hand rigid on Sokka's back. Sokka sobbed again, pressing his face to the sleeve of his parka.
"We were supposed to… to relocate there, once she felt better. To move, and… and live away from him. T-to help the Earth Kingdom people… to ensure they were treated fairly, to stop the worst of the abuses by the Fire Nation. We… we could have reunited slaves with their families, helped keep them safe, protected them with the Enforcers, the way we already had in the Capital… t-there was so much we could do, damn it. So much we wanted to do… t-to change the world for the better. To make true balance a reality. But… all of it crumbled into nothing. One stupid mistake… one we didn't even realize we were making. We just… were impulsive, we thought we could get away with it. No one should've… n-no one should've seen us. No one should've known. But Iroh… either he did see something, somehow, or he just… just went to Ozai with a gut feeling, whatever it was, and… and all of it was over."
"Iroh…" Hakoda repeated, gritting his teeth. "Zuko's uncle, right? The Dragon of the West. Another infamous man… though one I never met in battle myself. He was long retired when I went out to war. Zuko's never talked much about his family, but… he never said anything bad about that man."
"Of course he didn't… he never knew this side of the bastard," Sokka hissed, shaking his head. "All he wanted… was Zuko to come back. He convinced himself Azula was to blame for Zuko's departure. He tried to pry the truth from her about us, once, and she shut him down. But I guess he just… had been biding his time until something angered him enough to take action. And… I suppose us beating Toph was what did it."
"His gladiator…" Hakoda said. "But I suppose… if Iroh were the worst of it, none of this would've happened either."
"No… I mean, I resent the bastard and I always will," Sokka said, swallowing hard. "But… it's not even a fragment of the hatred I feel for Ozai. He… he just… demanded for that damn purity examination. She… she didn't tell me much about it, she mustn't have wanted to, but… but they hurt her. In more ways than I can ever know. Her dragon couldn't help her… I had no idea what was happening either, but… I couldn't sleep. Something felt wrong, and the next thing I knew, a whole group of Imperial Guards barged into my house, beat me up and… and they just dragged me off to prison."
Hakoda's eyes grew colder as Sokka explained the story: never had he thought the Fire Lord would show any kindness or true mercy to anyone, but hearing of how he'd treated his son, of how he'd treated his own daughter, set a fire of outrage in Hakoda's soul that he hadn't felt in a long time.
"I… had no idea what was happening. No one gave me answers… I just knew we'd been caught," Sokka continued, shaking violently as he hugged himself even more tightly. "T-then… at one point, she came to me. S-she disguised herself as a prison guard… and she came to me. She told me what had happened, she swore she'd get me out somehow, but… but she was so broken. She was more distraught than I ever saw her until then. I… I hate Ozai for what he did, for how he hurt her, but the minute I remember her face that night, I… I could do without revenge. I could do without tearing him off that pedestal, so long as I could erase her pain somehow. If I… if I could've done away with it, if I could've spared her… if I could've taken it all for myself, I would have. I begged for that, but… nobody listened. N-not the guards… not the fucking Fire Lord. Not the damn universe, for all that matters…
"The next thing I knew… a bunch of guards started keeping watch on me, at all hours. I feared she'd been caught visiting me, but… she had confronted her father. He suspected she'd try to break me out, so… so he did that to prevent it. But then… Zhao showed up and offered me one chance to die with… with supposed dignity. As a gladiator… in the ring, fighting against his own gladiator, Combustion Man, who… who'd never lost a single fight. I was supposed to die that day… and I was ready to. I was allowed to get my weapons… I picked up Azula's necklace too, hoping she'd be able to recover it from my corpse if I… if I didn't make it. But…"
"But you did. You survived," Hakoda said, frowning. "Long enough to come to us… no matter how strong that Combustion Man was."
"I… I had weapons. Means to fight him with…" Sokka nodded weakly. "We'd come up with some strategies long ago, but… but I wasn't ready yet. Let alone was I ready when I'd barely recovered from getting beaten to a pulp by those fucking guards. A-at the end of it, I… I'd done damage, but he was going to kill me. I… tossed my bombs at him. My final weapon… volatile gas bombs, and he blew them up, like he did with everything.
"T-the next thing I knew, everything was fire. I… I really thought I'd burn to death right then and there… but she wouldn't let that happen. She flew with her dragon to snatch me out of there… she dove into the fire for me. We almost… almost died there. But we got out, at the last moment. Her personal guards… they were the only trustworthy ones. They helped… they had set things up so that, if she could save me, they could help us escape on her Barge. I wasn't all that conscious by then, but… but I was alive still, even if I couldn't believe it. I thought, stupidly, that… t-that we'd both go hide somewhere, figure out a plan, survive together. But… but when I asked her what she wanted to do…"
"She chose to go back," Hakoda said. Sokka whimpered softly as he nodded.
"It was… probably the right choice. If I were in her place, I… I would've done the same damn thing. But the minute she sailed away, Dad, I… I couldn't keep on living. I couldn't keep going when I… when I thought I'd never see her again, when I saw her vanishing in the horizon, on her way back to the monster who'd done everything he could to break her.
"I… I'm scared, Dad. I'm scared of what he'd do to her… whatever he's already done to her. It was bad enough already… I don't know how much worse it could be, but I know that piece of shit would hold nothing back. And I… I just have to sit here, waiting for nothing, b-because I… I can't do anything to help her. I can't do anything to save her…"
"Well… not now, you can't."
Hakoda's words broke the spell in which Sokka had submerged himself. The tears still spilled down his eyes, trickling over the fabric of his parka, until he raised his head towards his father.
"W-what… what do you mean, not now?" Sokka asked. "I…"
"Oh, I know you, son," Hakoda said, breathing deeply. "Probably because… because I know myself: you'd take all the pain, shield her from it, the same way I wished I could have for your mother, when… when I found her at the verge of death. It was too late, though… but all I could think of, all I could want, was to take her place. To be the one who died in her stead… s-so she could be with you, with your sister, for as long as possible. My life… it didn't seem to matter at all at that point. Or at many points, going forward. My mom, she tried her best to help me regain my center, to calm me down… but all I could feel was grief, grief I kept translating into rage. I wanted… I wanted revenge, Sokka. I wanted it so badly I nearly took off on the wake of your mother's funeral, anything so I could find the damn Southern Raiders and snuff the life out of their eyes myself.
"But then… then I saw Katara crying, right next to me. I saw you, standing firmly, with that… that determination you gained, since that day. You were holding her hand… you were stronger than I felt, at that moment. And… and I knew I had something to live for when I saw you. I knew it was what Kya would have wanted me to do, so… I couldn't possibly turn my back on you just for revenge. It… it didn't work that way. It couldn't. So… when it was clear the war couldn't be won, not with our resources, I… I knew I had to go back to you. To you and your sister. I'd wanted to better the world for your sake, but I failed at it. But Sokka… I couldn't bring back Kya, no matter what I did, just as you said you couldn't have, even if you'd confronted the Southern Raiders' leader. Nothing I did would change the reality that she was taken from us. Your Princess, however… Azula isn't gone for good."
"I… I know that. I hope for that every day, Dad, with every beat of my heart…" Sokka said, his jaw clenched. "I mean… I don't want to think the Fire Lord would've… I don't want to believe he could have gone that far. But… even if she's still alive, even if she survives his rage, what can I do? She's… she's out of reach. I can't go back to her, not while Ozai's still a hazard for the Tribe…"
"I'd say… that hinges on how that eventual battle turns out," Hakoda said, enigmatically. Sokka frowned as his father eyed him with uncertainty. "There's more ways to win a war than just by outnumbering the enemy. Sometimes having more troops isn't enough. Superior tactics… they can win the day against odds that appear insurmountable at first."
"But…" Sokka gazed at Hakoda, his heart drumming strangely, strongly, in his chest… stronger than it had in what felt like ages. Perhaps as strong as it had when he'd still fought for Azula… as strong as it had when he'd taken her into his arms, knowing their place in the world was found by each other's side. "She… she gave it back. The necklace, I… I made her promise she'd come back if she had a chance. That she'd return to me… but then I found the necklace and it seemed she never would. I… I might be wrong to think that's what it meant, but…"
"It could be. It might have been a way to say goodbye," Hakoda admitted, with a sad sigh. "But… it might have been a way to seal that promise, too. If that necklace is meant to be hers… shouldn't she come claim it, some day?"
"I… I don't know," Sokka said, gritting his teeth. "Maybe… but it feels wrong to return a symbol of betrothal, of marriage, like…"
"A symbol of what?"
Sokka gritted his teeth upon Hakoda's reaction. He hadn't intended to say it, truthfully… he had barely intended to tell Katara when he had. There was no point in backtracking now, though: Sokka yanked his right glove off slowly before showing his palm to his father. The Chief's eyes widened at the sight of the scar, one he hadn't noticed when Sokka had been unconscious, brought home by Zuko…
"It… happened on that trip. I mean… we did it then," Sokka said, softly. "We… we did it by the Fire Nation rite first. Under… under the names of Jing and Wentai."
"That's where those names came from…?" Hakoda asked. Sokka swallowed hard and nodded.
"We… we used them one time before. But it was even better then, because… we just got to live life, for a week, with each other. After that… we did it again once we were by ourselves, following the Water Tribe rite."
"She has a scar of her own, then?" Hakoda asked, softly. Sokka nodded again. "Then… you are bonded, for life."
"We are," Sokka said, gritting his teeth. "I'm part of her… as she's part of me. The way it always will be."
"Then it's… it's even harder to believe she could have returned that necklace to break your promises, Sokka," Hakoda whispered, a hand on his son's head. Sokka winced, tempted to bury his face back into his arms. "I can't speak for her, evidently… but I'd think it's even another way to make a promise. Almost… like a challenge. So that, when you're ready…"
"I'd go find her?" Sokka asked, choked up. "I… I don't think so, Dad. The way she talked, t-the things she said, she… she asked me to live my life here. To be as happy as I could be. To live on because… because she couldn't keep going if she believed I was gone."
"All of which leads me to think… that she knew the gesture might hurt you, but she might have hoped, even against her better sense, to convey a deeper message than her words did," Hakoda said, hugging his son kindly. "She didn't make this commitment blindly, carelessly, did she? Everything she sacrificed for you… all the struggles you endured for each other's sake, none of it was done in ignorance. Both of you knew what they meant. If you were married… if you intended to spend your lives together, to make hard choices for each other's sake, all the more reason to believe she wouldn't want this. Right?"
"I… yeah. I mean… of course she didn't, nobody could've wanted this…" Sokka managed, rubbing his eyes again as more tears threatened to spill from his eyes.
"Your mother… if what you learned is true, it means she died while doing what Princess Azula has done for you," Hakoda whispered, swallowing hard. Sokka shivered and nodded. "Two extraordinary women, I'd say… who somehow settled for dorks like us, eh?"
"I have no idea why. I… I really don't, most days," Sokka said, softly. Hakoda chuckled, shaking his head.
"Most people cannot understand or grasp their own worth, so I'm not surprised to hear that," Hakoda said. "You, in particular, have spent far too long measuring yourself in other people's example, trying to fit into… I don't know, some mold of what you should be, completely unaware of the fact that you've long outgrown the mold in question. If you stop thinking of who you should be, and look at the man you are now… a warrior without compare, capable of returning to the habit of hunting with ease upon first attempting it, wise beyond your years, a leader everyone looks to for guidance… why would you ever look down on yourself? Because of your mistakes? Well… those actually make us human. The true measure of a man isn't found in the greatness of his actions, the power of his words, the boldness of his decisions… but in who he chooses to be when his path leads him in the wrong direction. Can someone claim they've never let themselves fall into dark thoughts, into the temptation of doing something they never should have? I sincerely doubt it. But if they can accept the consequences of their actions… more than that, if they can learn from them and grow from them, they prove their worth and show the world that there's more value in growth than in perfection. And, as far as I can tell… that's who you are, my son. You didn't have all the answers from the start… but you've found them, day by day, until you've become someone even a Princess would sacrifice everything for. Someone she bonded herself to forever, no matter the distance between you."
Sokka gritted his teeth, closing his eyes as his father spoke earnestly. Tears spilled down his cheeks, kept warm by the fireplace before them… fire, just like that which burned inside her. The fire she had channeled through him, shared with him, as they became dragons in the eyes of those magnificent creatures… as they fought, side by side, against fearsome foes. The look in her eyes when he'd held her against his chest, when blood had still trickled down her shoulder… she had been willing to do anything, to go anywhere, to fight her hardest, because she knew he stood beside her through it all. Because she counted on him… because she wasn't alone, since he'd never willingly leave her.
He hadn't been all that willing… he had walked away, climbed off that ship, only because she'd needed him to. Only because she'd asked him to. She knew he'd never wanted to leave… he made sure she understood he needed her, just as much as she needed him.
The discovery of the necklace had felt like a punch to the gut, even more powerful and painful than the one she'd dealt him when they first met. The possible meanings of the necklace's presence had barely fazed his misery: he'd never realized just how much it had mattered to him to ensure this necklace would stay with her… that she would keep it forever. It was a symbol of their commitment… but it was, indeed, just a symbol. The mark on his hand served as a symbol, all the same… that connection, that commitment, remained deeply etched into his aching heart. His love for her would last forever, for as long as he drew breath, even if each of those breaths broke him, even if each memory would inflict further pain upon his weary soul.
The measure of a man was who he'd choose to be, in the face of hardships… those words resembled his own when he'd spoken to Toph after the Race. Losing would reveal who you truly were, it challenged you… It was as true to losing a gladiator fight as it was true to losing the person he'd intended to spend his life with.
He raised his gaze again, glancing at Hakoda. He gritted his teeth, wrapping an arm around his son, reeling him closer. Sokka sighed, letting his head fall on his father's shoulder as he kept his silence, waiting for Hakoda to share further wisdom, if that was his intent. Right now… he just wanted to listen, to learn whatever he might yet discover thanks to his father.
"We are not so different, you and I…" Hakoda whispered, swallowing hard. "Our pain is terribly similar, I fear. Our grief… it's overwhelming. Once you've lost what we have, my boy… it's impossible to look back without melancholy. It's impossible to reclaim the person we once were. We learn to live with the scars, to bear with them, much as you have… even with scars that threaten to shatter us for good, like these do."
"You kept going for us… for me and Katara," Sokka spoke, softly. Hakoda nodded. "For the Tribe that would need you. Even if… if deep down, you were just as lost as I am now? You… you wish you could see her again, every day, don't you? You wish you could talk to her… show her everything that's happened since she died…"
"Why… yes. That's true," Hakoda smiled, as tears trickled down his cheeks as well. "But, more accurately… I see her again every day. Whenever I close my eyes, I evoke her in my mind. I let myself imagine… just how beautiful she'd look now, if she still lived. Maybe she'd have a few gray hairs like mine… a few wrinkles, here and there. But that smile… it'd be bright enough to light the dark period all on its own, as it ever was. And I speak to her too, Sokka… I tell her about every new day, about every hardship and every blessing. All I wish… is that I could hear her voice, responding to me. But sometimes… sometimes I swear I can hear an echo of it. Sometimes it seems she's merely standing behind me, furtively, teasingly… and when I turn, even if there's no one there, I can still feel her close. I… I suppose I'm mad, but…"
"No… y-you're not, Dad. That… I want to think she's always with you too. Always with us," Sokka said, with a sad smile, dabbing the corners of his eyes with his fingertips.
"And so, I still feel her right here, even now," Hakoda said, nodding gently. "There's no consolation at first… not for a long time, of course. But… it helps, a bit. To speak… maybe even to write to someone you've loved and lost. Somehow, it… it feels like they'll still hear you, they'll still feel you, even if they no longer belong in this world. It's odd, though… how it's even appeasing to think of death once you've lost someone you don't wish to live without. We fear it, for years, fight it off on every new day, but once the one you most treasure is gone… the immediate urge you feel is to follow them wherever they've gone, no matter what. It may be odd that I'd find comfort in this thought, but… Kya is waiting for me. I know I will find her again, so… so I can take my time. She wants me to, I'm sure of that. She wants me to live my life, as best as I can… she wants me to watch over you, your sister, my mother, the whole Tribe. As much as I may struggle on the worst of days… I have purpose still. My time hasn't come… and I intend to make the most of however much I have left of it until I can be with her anew. That way… that way, when we do meet again, I know she won't be disappointed in the man I've been since she died."
Sokka nodded, sniffing softly as he huddled against his father. Somehow, it felt as though he were only learning who Hakoda truly was beyond the surface, beyond the strength he'd always projected, seemingly effortlessly. Just as Sokka had finally dared open his heart to his father, Hakoda had done the same for him: for a moment, all hierarchies and authority had vanished entirely, leaving them grounded, on the same level, as their bond deepened and strengthened.
"I… still have a lot left to live for," Sokka finally said, swallowing hard. "She… she saw to that. I will keep you safe… everyone in the tribe, as best I can. If we succeed, though… if we do, Dad…"
He glanced at Hakoda with uncertainty, as though waiting for permission. His father smiled warmly, patting his son's head gently.
"If we do… will I let you go, once you have a plan to find her again?" he finished.
Sokka's stomach suddenly twisted, jumped, somersaulted, with a spree of fireworks spreading from his lower stomach, reaching throughout his whole body: finding her again. If he handled this well… if he managed to free his people from the incoming, certain Fire Nation assault, should he do that? Should he go after her?
Would his heart stand for anything less?
"Son… I'll say the same words I spoke to your sister, when she didn't know what to make of your choices in Whaletail Island," Hakoda said, and Sokka tensed up. "You, and your sister, are your own people. You build your own paths… paths that no doubt will take you away from me. Paths that may see you rising into greatness well beyond my reach, or even beyond my reckoning. But even if that path saw you staying here, all along… your life is yours to make into whatever you wish to, Sokka. You are free to make your own choices, and if your choice is to return to her, to save her from her father, to defeat a whole army if it stands between you two… well, all I can ask of you is that you plan things very well, most thoroughly, so that you can achieve what you intend to. So that you can live up to your choice… so you won't have to sacrifice anything else to go as far as I'm sure you will.
"Therefore… I won't hold you back, my son. I won't demand you stay here… I won't expect you to live out your life alone, mourning what you've lost, when it isn't quite so lost just yet. If there were a chance, even a small chance, that I might have saved your mother… I wouldn't have hesitated to reach for it. I would have traded my life for hers in a heartbeat. But you… you can't make that trade, I fear."
"No… she won't be spared from Ozai's fury if I sacrifice myself," Sokka said, nodding. "I've always known that. I thought I'd die, but… I knew my death would amount to nothing. It wouldn't help her… it wouldn't save her."
"Then you'll find another way," Hakoda said, with a gentle smile. "I know you can. And once you do… I will support you however I can. Even if it's just by bidding you good luck and waving as you leave… even if it's only that, I'll do it. I won't ever hold you back again, my son."
Sokka breathed out as he gazed at his father with heartfelt eyes. Strangely, his heart ached over the notion of leaving again… just as it raced with the thrill of seeking a true solution, a way to put an end to the torment plaguing the woman he loved. His tribe was a beautiful place, with far kinder people than anywhere else he'd been, where everyone would work together for a better future. He had expected explosive, adverse reactions once they learned the truth of why he'd returned… and as awkward as those days had been, in two months that uneasy sensation had faded away. They'd welcomed him again… no longer seeking a long-gone Sokka inside him, but instead, acknowledging the man who had returned from the Fire Nation exactly as he was. Their generous spirits, their open hearts… he knew he would cherish them forever.
Where coming back had felt wrong while on Azula's Barge, it no longer seemed quite so bad, after two months of being here. Yet that unsettling, miserable feeling of bleakness dwelled inside his gut every day… until now.
It was the lack of purpose… the loss of a horizon to strive for. His fighting spirit hadn't been broken, despite his fears: it had been weakened, perhaps, dormant, waiting for a reason to rear its head anew. Waiting for a sign, for permission, for the right push to rise once more.
Now, though… now it seemed the obvious solution stared him in the face. How would he go about it? He had no idea. He'd need time to plan, to gather resources, perhaps… to figure out how many allies he could count on for this idea. Aang's distaste for violence might make it so the Avatar would choose not to follow Sokka into whatever battle he charged into… Katara's distaste for Azula, in turn, might be too strong, and she might not wish to sacrifice so much just to save her. Zuko and Suki had their daughters to take care of… and the warriors of the Tribe belonged here, protecting everyone.
So… perhaps he'd go alone.
Strangely, that didn't seem like such a bad idea right now.
"Ah… the snow seems to be slowing down."
Hakoda's remark broke through Sokka's ruminations. The Chief smiled, squeezing Sokka's shoulder gently with a hand before crawling to the cave's mouth, shoving and kicking the loose snow that had piled before it, until the way out was clear once more. Sokka swallowed hard, glancing at the fire one more time: he still remembered the feeling of flames rushing through his body without burning him. The feeling of union with someone whose heart was so connected to his that their souls, their energy, had become one and the same…
His brow drew together as he stared at the fire. Azula had asked him to stay… she had asked him to be patient with himself, to get used to his life anew, to find happiness. To live his life as best he could…
She was unaware, it seemed, that Sokka could only do that by standing by her side.
"I think we can go now," Hakoda said, glancing back at Sokka from the cave's entrance. "You ready, Sokka?"
After breathing deeply, the Gladiator nodded. He collected his bag, handing Hakoda his own, before snuffing out the fire. Together, they set out through the snow again, side by side, with their basket trailing behind them.
His father smiled a little as they walked together, silently, yet comfortable in that quiet, cold landscape. Sokka had much to ponder, Hakoda knew… so he'd let him do that. His son had needed more than just a shoulder to lean on… he had also needed a hand to push him forward. It was possible Katara wouldn't be pleased once she knew of what ideas Hakoda had encouraged Sokka to indulge in… it was certain that Hakoda would regret encouraging his son if the outcome was tragic rather than triumphant. Yet Sokka's confession about Kya, his revelations over why she'd died, came back to him again: hearing the truth behind her death had felt as though his wife had only just passed, as though a firebender had murdered her mere moments ago, when it had already been twenty years since then. If only he'd been able to do anything, anything at all, to make sure it wouldn't be Kya…
Sokka still had that chance with his own wife: he'd never forgive himself if he dared waste it.
Even from a distance, the Southern Water Tribe was visibly active as they returned, trudging through the recent snowfall. Lanterns' lights throughout the village made it seem as though fireflies floated in the middle of the South Pole, Sokka thought, with a small smile… an impossible idea, but one that brought him back to thoughts of other lands, other places… places that might not be as far from reach as he had feared they were. Maybe he couldn't get going today, or tomorrow… but soon. All preparations for the tribe's defenses were finished by now, after all – unless he came up with anything new, though nothing else had come to mind so far. Maybe, instead of planning further defenses… he ought to start planning his next moves, once the battles in the south were dealt with. If he ensured the Fire Lord's army would leave his Tribe alone… if he succeeded at that, he'd be able to set out on a new journey shortly afterwards, whether by himself or with whoever wished to accompany him. It wasn't too much to hope for, was it…? If he made his moves carefully, thinking them through, Azula wouldn't have to resent him for not fulfilling her express request that he'd stay here, safe, sound and alive, for as long as possible…
Tribe members welcomed them as they entered the village: Nanuk congratulated them for their successful hunt, and Hakoda thanked him graciously as he and Sokka continued to walk towards the center of the town. Suki's lessons were about to begin, and Mari's worried gaze traveled around the group of villagers until her anxiety was appeased upon glimpsing Sokka.
"Uncle Sokka!" she exclaimed, beaming as she raced towards him: as much as Sokka had even referred to himself that way before the little girl, and others sometimes did it too, it felt all the more powerful when the words were uttered by that innocent child.
"Ah, Mari. Give us a little moment, okay?" Sokka said, smiling at her as he and Hakoda slowed down right before the child. Sokka leaned closer to Mari, his hands on his knees. "Me and my dad will put this away, and I'll tell you today's story right after we're done…"
"Oh, I can take it myself, you shouldn't deprive Mari from her wonderful stories," Hakoda grinned.
"Well, it wouldn't take long for me to help you, would it?" Sokka asked, glancing at his father with uncertainty, but Hakoda laughed and shook his head, working to undo the fastening of the basket on Sokka's waist.
"It wouldn't, but you must have priorities in life, my boy. And when a little girl is so eager for story time, well… you must be a gentleman, right?"
"Oh, well…" Sokka said, smiling at Mari again. "Alright, then… want to hear the story of how Princess Jing and Wentai found a huge, secret Library in the middle of the desert?"
Mari's mouth opened into a broad smile… but that smile waned quickly when her eyes traveled beyond Sokka's face. She blinked a few times before pointing at the fur that lined Sokka's parka:
"Snow…" she said: they'd only just had a chance to leave the safety of the igloos, but it seemed the charged clouds still had more snow left to unload upon them…
Something was odd about the snowflakes, though. Something that wasn't easy to notice, in the midst of the dark period. Mari, who had never seen any snowflakes of the sort, didn't know the difference between those and normal snowfall…
But the rest of the Tribe did.
A sudden rumor of noise, of urgent, anxious voices, suddenly took wind in the village, startling the child. A few of the women exclaimed fearfully, while some of the men shouted, watching as the dark stains that fell upon the snow seemed to melt into the normal, pale snow and ice that ever could be found in their home…
It took Hakoda an instant to recognize it. The urgency of the voices around them was as familiar and unwanted as were the dark stains that fell from the sky. It took Sokka a single moment, just as well, to glance at the dark speck upon the white fur of his outfit and recognize it for what it was:
Black snow.
The Fire Lord's forces had arrived.
A/N:
Cliffhangers galore lately, huh? Sort of sorry about that. I hope you guys have been bearing with the latest developments of the story as best as possible, but things are indeed kicking into high gear from this point onwards on both sides of our tale. There's of course some dark moments left ahead… but the future is slightly more promising, going forward.
If these reassurances aren't enough yet, feel free to jump over to read Leap of Faith, my Sokkla Saturdays story for this year. The event, as always, will go on until the end of November. I'll be posting nine oneshots, the first of which was already posted – some people who read it have already found it to be a comforting story after the chaos Gladiator has plunged into since around thirty chapters ago, so if you want further reassurances of a brighter future, head right there to see them.
Without further ado… see you guys next week!