Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Fire came back into their lifes just like it did the first time: A roaring storm, tearing down everything they love.

There was no warning, no time to prepare. Soot fell from the sky the second the soldiers in black armor began razing their home to the ground. 

Bright red fiery flashes of flame soared high into the night sky, destroying everything she held dear for the second time in her life. 

Huts melting, tents burning, the cries of those running for their lifes. 

It was just as bad as in her nightmares of that day.

Sokka tried to protect their village. He really did. He stood tall where he could but against the onslaught of invaders he wound up having no chance.

She’s lucky he didn’t —

“Hey, you alright?”, Sokka asks from in front of her, ripping Katara out of her spiraling thoughts.

Her brother glances worriedly over his shoulder, stopping in the middle of the snowy wilderness of their untamed homeland.

They’ve been walking for an eternity, sun barely rising for the few hours of sunlight they get a day at this time of year. Katara’s legs quake as the energy begins to seep out of her.

“...I’m fine.”, she lies out of breath, trudging past Sokka in a desperate effort to stake of her fatigue.

She manages to take a few peaceful steps, nothing but the white horizon and blue sky in her vision, thoughts disturbingly quiet for once. 

That is, until Sokka catches up, resting his palm on her shoulder and stopping Katara in her tracks: “Stop. You can’t keep going on like this – You’ll burn yourself out.”

Icy wind bites at her exposed skin, chipping away at her like millions of tiny icicles. 

The screams. The fire. The smell of grease. The smell of blood...

With a deft movement of her shoulder she shrugs off her brother’s arm, marching deeper into the icy wasteland. 

“We can’t stop Sokka, where would we go?”, she comments, disappointment and sorrow more than apparent in her voice, “There’s nothing here! Look around! ”

Either they find shelter or...

She marches on, body protesting and thoughts wandering again.

Her brother sighs, tired and angry, followed by the unmistakable noise of snow crunching under his feet as he follows. 

The sound manages to keep her grounded, their own movements the only thing breaking through the deathly stillness of the pole.

Their feet keep carrying them, minute after minute, hour after hour. The sun makes it’s way across the sky and the moon returns to shine on them with all her beauty.

She’s never walked this long in her life.  

-

Black iron, high as the sky, darkening the blue light of the moon into a shade only seen in the deepest shadows. 

The groaning of the metal hatch, descending unflinchingly into their home like a dagger into flesh.

The soldiers, marching, their ghastly masks, the flames–

Katara wakes with a silent cry on her lips, a dull ache at the back of her head pulling her out of her nightmares.

She must have hit her head on the ice…

Moonlight illuminates the small cave they found shelter in when their legs couldn’t carry them anymore, casting everything in the colors of the night.

Sokka lies next to her, chest rising evenly with each breath. He seems to sleep calmly, no dreams haunting him. 

She knows her brother better than to think last night doesn’t plague him; He’s been quiet, a silent companion except for only the shortest of phrases.

The weight of what happened lies heavily on him. That she knows. 

As the silence of the wilderness they call their home stretches on, she watches Sokka sleep, wondering what might be going on in his head.

With no other choice she hugs him close, drifting back off into the sleep that has only brought her nightmares so far.

-

Walking through the heartland is hopeless; Stupid.

They’ve made their way back to the shoreline, walking along the edge of the ice in hopes of finding anyone– anything else that survived the attack.

And if that warship still patrols here…

No. They won’t. They think they’ve got them all. There’s no reason for them to stay. 

He couldn’t put up any fight – The monsters overran every position he had so thoroughly prepared. 

Even when he tried to defend his home, those that couldn’t fight, he didn’t even land a. single. blow. 

A charred patch on his parka and the nick in his bone club the only reminder he only escaped death by a hair’s breadth.

And only because his sister–

Sokka violently shakes his head. He needs to stop thinking about it. This helps no one. There are more important things to do. More important things he can still do. 

Mainly, finding a way out of this mess.

There might be… an old fishing boat, long forgotten by a hunting party just waiting for them. Or… or other survivors, there’s safety in numbers. They’ll find something.

But until then their desperate march continues, leaving them with nothing more than the snow and ice under their feet and the sun and moon shining down on them.

-

Snow keeps crunching under his feet, and soon it’s going to drive Sokka crazy.

Usually when he was out with Katara banter and laughter would fill the air, rarely a moment spent in silence when everything can be used to rile each other up.

But now it’s so quiet; No one dares to say a word. It’s as if whatever made their trips enjoyable remains with what is left of their village. 

He can’t take it. They can’t have lost it all. They still have each other, they need–

“So… How do you like the weather?”, he says, surprising even himself when the words just stumble out. 

It’s a incredibly lazy conversation starter, especially for Sokka, but if it works –

Katara’s footsteps cease behind him, the rhythmic composition of snow crunching beneath their feet breaking. 

He swivels his head, he knows that wasn’t up to the usual standard, but surely nothing that could stop his sister in her tracks.

As his eyes catch sight of Katara’s face his heart almost misses a beat; Her features run deep with two emotions he can discern: Surprise and worry.

“Excuse me?”, she demands accusingly at first, before her face smoothes over again until her eyebrows settle close to her eyes, “Are you alright?”

Is he alright…?

No. 

“...No.”, again, the word just stumbles out of him, and with it comes a wave of sobs bubbling out alongside.

Sokka can feel himself crumble under the sudden loss of self control, stumbling into his sister trying to find support. 

His search for understanding is answered with a tight hug, Katara’s arms wrapping around him almost instinctively. 

He couldn’t protect the village. Couldn’t do what dad left him behind for. What is he even worth if he can’t do that? 

And now his sister has to comfort him for being such a failure…

He hangs onto her with all the strength he can, legs turning numb underneath him, refusing to carry him any longer.

The world narrows itself down to pinpricks, black making up most of his vision. All that remains in his sight the blue of Katara’s parka.

It’s all spiraling. All getting worse. And worse. And wors –

Something pulls at him. Like a steading hand something manages to get him out of this abyss. 

Slowly, but surely, his vision feels out again, the white of their home joining the blue of his sister’s clothing. 

As he finds his feet again he realizes with a startle what managed to pull him back: Katara’s humming. 

It’s a song he doesn’t immediately recognize; The melody old and almost forgotten, but when he does it brings a smile on his face – It’s one of the songs their parents would sing, back when they were all her and together.

Together… 

He sniffs, once, twice. He needs to get himself together. For the both of them. For their family. They need to stick this through, together.

“...Thank you, Katara.”, He rasps out in thanks despite how sore his throat feels, letting Katara go as his legs fully support him again.

His sister nods steadily, also forgoing their usual banter again, eyes shining with her own tears that don’t yet want to be shed. Her jaw is set, resolute in pulling through. 

“Let’s go.”, she states, voice low and tired, pointing past Sokka further down the shoreline, “There has to be something here. We can’t give up now.”

With a slow, yet decisive move of her arm she grasps his hand, pulling him along and forcing Sokka to keep up.

Their trek continues, tired and slower than before, but it does.

-

At first, Katara thought the black dot on the horizon was the long abandoned Fire Nation ship their forefathers destroyed. A cruel reminder that they still haven’t gotten nowhere. 

But then she realized, it can’t be that ship. It can’t. The landscape just doesn’t match. She knows the land of their old home and this isn’t it.

So that means, this is not the ship they knew of. This is something different. Something new. 

Sokka’s breathing is growing ragged behind her, her tempo increasing the closer they get to the black spot in her vision. 

“Wha– What’s gotten into you now?”, her brother grits out, stumbling after her as she drags him along by the hand,

Can’t he–

“Can’t you see it? Right there! There’s something here!”, she responds, breaking out into a full sprint as her hopes to get out of this mess soar.

The dot grows closer, and closer and clos –

Spirits no…

Her intuition was right at the start. In front of her is a Fire Nation ship. Unmistakable.

Did they– Did they really run in circles?

No. No. That can’t be it. It just doesn’t match. 

Her eyes roam over the darkened metal of the warship… It’s similar to the one near their village, but different. More maintained. It’s not as big as the warship that – did this…

“It’s new…”, her brother breathes out next to her, his voice ripping her out of her thoughts. 

If it’s new that means – She scans the wreck once more, trying to see what made it run into the ice in the first place. 

There! A patch of metal, darkened even more than usual near the tower these things have.

She turns her head to speak with Sokka, not taking her eyes off the forgotten ship in front of her: “It looks like it was burning… Do you think that’s why it’s here?”, she whispers.

Without really intending to, she squeezes Sokka’s hand still in her grasp tight, the eerie silence suddenly getting to her more than before.

Sokka doesn’t answer immediately, quiet dominating the space between them. 

It feels like an eternity until her brother takes a step forward, shaking his head and carefully investigating the ship’s burnmark himself.

“No… No. Not just burning… This is… too concentrated. I think they were attacked…”, he says the words like he can’t really believe it himself, leaning in close to take a better look without daring to go any closer.

Time passes, the creepy silence settling between them again. They both know what opportunity the ship presents but can’t bring themselves to say it. 

And then there is also the risk of –

No doubts. They can’t keep going on like this. This has to be a sign, be it from the Spirits or otherwise.

Katara rests her hand on Sokka’s shoulder, catching his attention again: “There could be supplies inside.”

Instantly her brother’s eyes snap onto her, wide and fearful: “There could be soldiers inside.”

His answer comes without hesitation, hands forming into fists. Katara can see him grimace even from her position behind him.

At his words, she begins to frown, the same unpleasant thought already having crossed her mind. And yet…

She squeezes his shoulder, whispering into his ear: “I don’t think we can pass this up.”

Their desperate escape hasn’t given them any chance to stock up, the trek they went on only fueled with hope and prayers till now. Exhaustion keeps gnawing at her and she knows it can’t be very different for Sokka.

Underlining her words, she slides her hand off his shoulder, taking the first few hesitant steps towards the snow that has piled up around the ship that would allow them to climb on deck. 

“Kat–!”, Sokka shouts, halting when he realizes raising his voice would only attract those he fears are waiting for them.

Instead, after just a second of deliberation, he scrambles after her, the unmistakable noise of drawing his bone club resounding behind her.

She allows herself to smile, just a bit. As long as they stay together they’ll be safe. This will work out. It has to.

-

Why does Katara have to be right?

The Fire Nation warship is their best chance to stock up, maybe even find one of their lifeboats, but for that they first have to get through it. 

The dark, metal corridors stretching on like an endless manmade maze. The small chambers smelling of iron. It feels like they are descending into a grave.

Their only solace is the walls being lined with still usable torches; At least they don’t have to fight through the darkness too. 

Deeper and deeper they make their way into the destroyed boat. Even from the outside Sokka could tell this one is far smaller than the one that attacked their home, but now from the inside it also seems like it’s older too. 

In the light of the torch it becomes apparent the ship is only held together by patchwork, hopes and dreams.

Who’d willingly sail on this thing?

Sokka can tell Katara notices too, her eyes shooting questioning looks at him at the appearance of the ship. 

He’d love to be able to give her an answer, but he has no idea either. 

Regardless, he stays vigilant, club at the ready all the same the more they explore the wreck.

Though, so far there’s been nothing that tipped him off; The ship is deserted, no trace of any soldiers, no noise or even bodies – it’s entirely empty, desolate .

What perplexes Sokka even more is the damage to the ship: Holes are ripped into the hull, metal warped and discolored from heat. As if Firebenders blasted holes into the walls to escape. 

…Or blasted their way in.  

Surely that’s just daydreaming, if those monsters were starting to eat each other up like this this war wouldn’t last a day longer. There has to be a reason no trace of the crew remains. 

The more empty rooms they find, the more confident they grow. Soon enough only the command deck remains, the rest of the wreck already combed through.

An iron ladder leads up to the highest part of the ship, the cold wind of their homeland howling the higher they get. The noise is almost comforting.

Rung for rung they ascend, and within just a few minutes they stand inside the brains of what once was a warship.

Whatever had attacked them in the first place landed a direct hit on this deck – half the walls are missing, an ice cold breeze blowing inside. Rubble and debris is strewn about everywhere, making traversing the room extremely hard. 

Good.

He glances over at Katara, opening his mouth again for the first time since they boarded: “I don’t think there’s anything here for us.”

Shaking his head, he’s already turning back around towards the ladder. There’s not even any maps or documents visible – it’s just total destruction. 

He’s about to turn around and leave but before Sokka can even take a step back Katara’s hand snatches his forearm lightning quick, her eyes big, curious and afraid.

“Wait.”, she hisses, awfully still, “Look. Look.”

“Ka–”, he tries to whisper back questioningly, but instead of answering his sister raises her shaking hand, pointing at a seemingly innocuous pile of rubble.

That is, until he notices.

A hand. 

A hand sticks out between the pieces of debris, gloved and armored in the unmistakable way of the Fire Nation.

It’s the first body they’ve found in the entire ship, it’s existence a grim –

A twitch.

Two gloved fingers move, snapping back and forth in a way that can in no way be caused by the South Pole’s winds.

A twitch.

For just one second his sister’s hand seizes his arm like a vice grip, a ragged breath making its way out of her mouth, before she dashes forward, digging through the debris. 

He follows behind immediately. First off, he’s not letting Katara dig out what could be a living breathing Fire Nation soldier, probably a Firebender to boot, and second, they need to find out what danger they are in. 

If worse comes to worst he should be able to deal with a wounded guy with his club…

Hands dig through blackened shards of metal, throwing whole chunks of what would have been the walls of the command deck aside. 

With both their feverish efforts to unearth the soldier it doesn’t take long until all the rubble is pushed aside.

Underneath lies exactly what they expected: A dead Firebender.

He looks quite young, closer to their age than dad’s. His head is turned to the side, a helmet covering what would be most of their visible features. Their armor is unsurprisingly damaged, large dents and ripped fabrics visible.

Sokka is almost about to sigh in relief at the harmless state of the soldier in front of them when the worst comes to pass.

Another twitch, then a slight turn of the head. 

He’s alive!

“Un– ggh…”, the Firebender groans, slowly regaining consciousness.

Sokka freezes in shock as he hears the ruined armor grind against the soldier's body with every single move of his.

How can he still be alive?!

It’s as if something invisible pins him to the ground – an unseen weight settling on his chest as the soldier sits up.

Only slowly does he regain control of himself as two bright golden eyes stare him down.

Chapter Text

The taste of ash coats his throat, every centimeter of his body feeling like it’s on fire. 

His memory is hazy, patches of memory flitting through his mind as he slowly comes back to.

A giant warship, fireballs high in the sky, barking orders, lifeboats descending –

“...Arggh…”, he groans, his memories returning along with his body’s state becoming a worsening mix of pain.

He pushes himself further up, sitting up as best he can. 

This mess –

Without warning his head erupts with hurt, a splitting headache making him fear for the integrity of his skull. 

Violently, he shakes his head trying to dispel the pain, ripping open his eyes with a yelp. 

Spirits willing, his suffering lessens just enough for him to think clearly, but his eyes manage to present him with something that causes a different kind of headache:

Two Water Tribespeople, right in front of him. Kneeling and staring at him in a way he can only decipher as a mix between disbelief and fear.

What the –

He blinks, once, twice, trying to understand what could have led them to be in this place.

Apparently his shock must be visible, as it manages to rouse the other two out of their respective states; The guy with the charred parka grabs ahold of the girl’s shoulder, stumbling backwards as he raises his club, aiming it squarely at Zuko.

“Stay back.”, he growls defiantly, trying to project as much resolve as he can despite his weapon shaking in his hand. 

He still doesn’t manage to cut a particularly intimidating figure in Zuko’s opinion, but he can’t fault him for trying.

Slowly, he pushes himself upwards, his feet planting him  more or less steadily on the ground.

The duo opposite of Zuko takes a few more frenzied steps back in reaction, terror more than apparent on their faces. 

How –

Before he can even begin to think of any way out of this mess a stab of pain pierces through his forehead, headache returning with fervor now that he’s standing. 

“Arggh!”, he howls before he can think better of it, stumbling backwards and finding support in resting against the wall.

His skull feels like it wants to burst, pressure increasing and decreasing in waves making it hard to get used to it. 

Despite his lungs viciously struggling against him, he manages to stop his breathing from going ragged. His face grows hot as twin streams of flame exit his nostrils, pain slowly subsiding with the heat leaving his body. 

However – as usual – he didn’t think things through; The sight of the orange fire summoned on his command has the boy and girl scramble into action.

With startling speed the guy closes the distance, his club descending down on Zuko even before the fire has completely left his nose. With increments of a second left he manages to dodge, the half hearted punch he tries to retaliate with going nowhere as a large chunk of metal connects with his ribcage, sending him stumbling sideways.

The girl!

More pieces of debris come flying his way, some small and sharp, others big and blunt, his sore and damaged body would scream at him in protest if it cou –

Another swing, another desperate dodge backwards, leaving him standing right at the edge of the hole in the walls of the command deck.

Enough!

He bares his teeth, ripping off the last pieces of his helmet still on his head as he barks with the full strength of his voice: “ What are you doing on my ship?!”

Fire sprouts on his hands as she shouts the words, another warning hopefully making the others think twice before doing anything else stupid.

It’s not like he can’t fight two mere Water Tribe runaways in his state, it’s more like he just wants to know how in the Spirits’ names it even came to this?!

Thankfully – Thankfully, the two seem to see reason, halting their attacks but not taking their eyes of him, every muscle poised to continue their combined efforts at the smallest sign of aggression.

“What are you doing in the South Pole?!”, the girl shoots back at him, already raising her arm to throw the next piece of rubble at him. 

Endless ice – a black spectre on the horizon – fire flying from the sky –

His memory is coming back in bursts, flooding his senses with flashing pictures he can’t quite piece together.

What was he doing in the South Pole? 

Hunting the Avatar, of course. But why here? And why is he here, his ship destroyed and abandoned?

He shakes his head, hoping it unearths some memory that will make it all click , but his mind remains blank.

Angrily, he sighs, pushing the air out of his lungs with as much force as he can. Lacking a better answer, he scowls at the girl, growling in response: “What’s it matter to you?”

It doesn’t matter if things escalate again, he’s not losing this either way. If they can’t accept he won’t talk he’ll find another way out of this.

Instead of being hit with more pieces of debris as he would have expected, the boy steps forward, face morphed into a furious mask.

“Did you do it?”, he demands, voice low and deep, laden with emotion Zuko couldn’t read even if his life were to depend on it.

Without any better answer, he barks back immediately: “Do What?!”

Who knows how long he was out? Hours? Days? Whatever they think he did it can’t have been him.

The guy keeps staring as if he can determine his honesty if he just looks at Zuko long enough. This will be going on forever. 

But before he can truly try his best glare on the tribesman a sudden pain erupts on his side – the girl threw something at him again. 

“Stop lying! You burned down our village!”, she screams as she continues her assault with renewed fervor.

The constant stream of attacks continues, debris big and small clattering against what was once his armor. 

Stupid girl!

“I didn’t do anything! Stop this immediately!”, he orders, nerves wearing thin. Another growl escapes his lips, and fire forms at his hands again. 

If this doesn’t stop he’s going to–

Another swing from the guy, aiming directly for his head. He ducks low, repositioning to stand right in the middle of the two.

That’s it. He’s settling this.

Without wasting another second he widens his stance, fire at his hands bending to his will; A fireball singes the metal just a hair’s breadth away from the tribesman’s feet, just before another hits the wall right next to the girl.

“ Leave!”, he bellows, reading the next tongue of flame to underline his point. If they don’t move now he’ll be getting serious.

Fire – barking orders – a flag hoisted high on a black cruiser.

Another wave of memories hits him, and with it the headache returns again. He stumbles slightly, but manages to regain his stance almost immediately.

The flag, that flag… He knows it from somewhere. He knows.  Who – What–

Him.

The fire flares sky high in his hands, scorching the remains of the roof. It was him. 

Caught in his rage his vision starts to blur, the world as he sees it looking more and more like he is underwater, colors blotched and bleeding into each other.

Another large piece of debris hits him square in the shoulder, his bones crunching uncomfortably under the impact. Zuko sees it fall to the ground as if time was slowed.

Another swing, one he manages to dodge purely on reflex. He ducks low, answering the attack with a kick aimed right at the guy’s stomach.  Despite or maybe even because of his anger, his foot connects, sending the tribesman flying into the nearest wall.

Blood is rushing through his body, and for the first time this day he does not feel pain of any kind. He’s focused, channeled. His rage flows through him and fuels his fire. It’s just like his tutors used to tell him: Nothing strengthens Firebending more than hate.

…And does he hate that man.

He swivels, focusing on that pesky girl to finally settle this matter. His feet move into a familiar stance as he turns, arms poised to send out a tongue of flame just like he was taught but the girl is faster.

The debris has left her hands, a furious yet determined expression on her face. Something changed about her, something Zuko can’t put his finger on.

With a decisive movement, she raises her arm, before bringing it down like a lightning strike and pointing directly at him.

“ Get out of our home you mon– ”

CRACK.

Deathly silence. Her scream is interrupted by the unmistakable ear-shattering noise they both immediately recognize: 

Ice breaking.

They all hold their breath, the only noise the howling unforgiving wind of the South Pole. It’s as if they all forgot they’ve been in the middle of a fight. 

For just a few precious seconds Zuko manages to believe it was just a mirage, that it never happened, but then the ice begins to break in earnest. 

CRACK. CRAAACK. CRA- CRACK.

His eyes meet those of the girl, then the guy’s, just now pushing himself back onto his feet. Both of their gazes confirm his worst fears.

The ship is sinking.

The ice is giving way beneath them, breaking apart under the weight of his boat.

…And if they don’t do anything, they’ll die here.

“I- I- The-”, the girl stutters, hand shaking as she points outside through the hole in the wall.

“Katara, we need to go!”,the tribesman interrupts, moving as quick as he can through the rubble: “Come on!”, he shouts, pulling  her in the direction of the ladder leading back onto deck.

CRA- CRAAAACK. CRACK.

His ship begins to rock violently, almost making Zuko lose his footing as it slowly descends into the icy waters of the pole. The other two aren’t as lucky, falling flat on the ground from how hard the boat is shaking.

Descending down the ladder would take almost a minute. A minute they don’t have. 

Spirits damn his bleeding heart –

Decision made, Zuko steps forward, taking his two uninvited guests by the back of their parkas.

“Hey-!”, the guy starts to struggle, but Zuko immediately cuts him off: “I’m saving you two, best not make me think twice.”, he growls out, walking toward the opening in the wall.

Saving them might not be the best choice given they wanted to kill him just a minute ago, but he was never good at making right choices anyway.

Without leaving any time for second thoughts, he jumps, hoping it will stop the others from objecting to his plan. 

A yelp and a fearful scream are all they manage to get past their lips before Zuko is already sending out streams of flames at his feet, slowing their descent as best he can.

Still, only few Firebenders manage to keep themselves in the air just through their bending. And he’s not one of them.The impact on the metal deck remains hard, a resounding CLANG echoing through the air as his boots hit steel.

His momentum has him stumbling forward, barely able to stay on his feet. Only because of years of combat training is he able to remain standing.

The second he regains control of his legs and stands securely on the sinking ship he lets go of the other two, breaking out into a run as soon as he can to leap off the deck into the ice and snow of the South Pole.

Once, twice, thrice, his feet hit the deck of the ship as he sprints before he jumps, landing in the snow and rolling to cushion his fall further.

His mind registers the footsteps of the others, behind him by mere seconds. His head whips around just in time to see them slide down the snowbanks surrounding his ship.

And they are not a second late, stumbling away from the remains of the boat as the ice gives way completely; The deathly cold waters of the Pole devour what was Zuko’s ship like a monster out of a spirit tale. It’s not even a full minute before it has vanished completely, forever forgotten by the sea. Pieces of ice float back up to the surface of the water, reforming the landscape of this wasteland like the ship had never been here in the first place.

The tribespeople plop down tiredly next to him as he watches his father’s last gift be destroyed by the waters of their homeland. 

They remain quiet –thankfully– , watching the forces of nature at work just like he does. The eerie silence would allow him to mourn, but he can’t bring himself to. 

Zuko would have thought he’d feel … more , different about losing his last piece of home, but instead he feels numb, like there’s a void in his chest. 

It has to be the cold…

More and more ice floes float up, an entire glacier slowly surfacing. It’s appearance is unnaturally spherical, dispersing the light in such a way it almost appears to be glowing.

It’s beautiful, yet Zuko feels nothing.

Next to him the girl – Katara the guy called her – sits up straight, staring at the glacier head tilted, eyes wide.

“...There’s someone inside…”, she breathes out like she doesn’t even believe herself.

Someone’s inside the ice?! Impossible… her eyes have to be playing tricks on her.

Zuko sees Katara blink, focusing even harder and narrowing her eyes, inspecting the glacier intensely. 

She can’t be right, what –

Suddenly, she jumps up, eyes wide as she shouts: “There’s someone inside! Sokka, give me your club!”, before grabbing the weapon herself and dashing towards the glacier with clear intent.

Lost for words, Zuko desperately tries to see what she sees, leaning forward on his hands, searching feverishly for any trace of a person encased in the ice. 

He just can’t believe what she’s telling them, he needs to see –

A silhouette. 

Deep inside the iceberg, sitting as if in deep meditation, unmistakably human.

…who could survive inside a glacier…

Chapter Text

It’s so cold…

Did he leave the window open again? No. No… The wind wouldn’t chill him it’s –

A rush of air, the flow of water, the breaking of ice.

Lightning, rain, thunder, a roar –

Something happened – What happened..?

Slowly, he pries his eyes open, expecting to see the sunlit sky of the Southern Air Temple stretching out over him, but instead he’s met with two big blue eyes staring at him with wonder and surprise.

“Huh?”

The other person doesn’t shift, the only thing Aang notices is her expression changing into a slight frown. He must have said that out loud…

Embarrassed, he smiles lopsidedly, rubbing his head. Maybe she can help?

“Uh…hi?”, he starts, blinking owlishly at the girl leaning over him. 

Not a word. She just keeps staring. Whatever trick he did to knock himself out must have been really impressive.

Best not to worry though, the ground he landed on is really soft. Curious, he fists his hand into the dirt, finding it’s not earth at all; It’s snow.

Did it turn winter already?! It was still spring yesterday!

His hands sift through the snow in disbelief, grabbing fistfuls and forming them into a snowball absentmindedly. 

Maybe he made his way onto one of the mountaintops? There was always snow there… Or– Or he got to the Pole? …But that would be pretty far…

As he thinks, a sizable snowball forms in his hand, and he’d be perfectly willing to continue, however, a much more important thought manages to make it to the forefront of his mind:

“Appa!”

Instantly, he’s on his feet, snowball forgotten, turning wildly on the spot, eyes flitting around searching for his closest friend.

No need to worry though; The sky bison is right behind him, answering with a low friendly roar at the sound of his name, slowly standing up on all his six feet as if he’d just woken up from a goodnight’s sleep.

“Appa!”, Aang cries in greeting, happy to see his furry friend is with him in this weird situation he got caught up in.

Taking a step forward, the bison nuzzles him gently with his broad nose, and Aang responds in kind with a big hug, burying his face in his fur.

He stays like this for quite some time, enjoying how it reminds him of home; dry grass, stone and the fresh breeze blowing through the Air Temples.

Rain, wet, sadness, fear, –

Pulling his head back up he suddenly, embarrassingly, remembers he’s not alone; His eyes return to the girl who just kept staring at him, to his surprise finding he’s now being watched by three people instead.

Two boys stand behind the girl, one is similarly clothed in a blue parka with a big black scorch mark on it, and the other is wearing some kind of dark tattered armor, red clothing visible underneath.

However, what they all have in common is the way they look at Aang; The three gawk at him like he’s a rare bird or just flew here like Guru Laghima. He can’t fight the smile coming onto his lips but he can just barely stop himself from laughing out loud.

What’s so special about him? Something with his hair?

Their empty astonished stares make it seem like they think he’s a ghost. It’s unbelievably funny.

Still, the silence is getting to him. It’s wwwaaayyy past due time they settle this. 

Trying his luck with a shy wave and another big grin he introduces himself: “Hi. I’m Aang, and that’s Appa! Nice to meet you all!”

There! If that wasn’t proper then what is? Gyatso would be proud.

The other three blink back at him like they can’t understand. Do they speak another language?

Aang’s about to break out the few words he remembers from his classes on the Water Tribes’ when the girl finally breaks free of whatever stupor had befallen her.

“...Aang… It’s nice to meet you Aang, too. …My name is Katara.”, she explains, slow and methodical, eyes flitting around wildly in their sockets without ever looking away from him.

Appa rumbles lightly behind him, as if greeting her as well, but his –as Aang knows– well meaning attempt has the exact opposite effect; His new friends scramble backwards several meters, only fear displayed on their faces.

“Woah! Hey, calm down you guys Appa’s really nice!”, he pets his head and rubs behind his ears in emphasis, “See?”

The sky bison moves his head, guiding Aang’s hand to all the places he enjoys getting scratched. When he does it just right, he can hear Appa make little noises of pure contentment.

It doesn’t help calming his new friends though apparently, as they don’t come any closer again. Instead, only the boy in the blue parka pushes himself in front of the girl; carefully, protectively , even.

His eyes are wide, mouth hanging open slack jawed like he can’t believe what he sees.

Seriously… What's wrong with him? Why can’t they just tell him what’s so strange…

“So…Aang. Where do you come from?”, the boy in blue asks hesitantly, eyes trained on him just like how Katara did when she introduced herself.

Really quickly, Aang looks down at himself, wondering if his monk’s robes or arrow tattoos have vanished for some unknowable reason. Finding it’s all still there just as he had left it, he whips his head back up to answer.

“Well from the Air Temple of course! I’m a monk!”, he exclaims joyously, opening his arms wide to show off his humble attire. Living with less was always a tenet the elders made sure they remembered.

Somehow, this was the wrong thing to say, again. The boy’s eyes go even wider, two blue orbs staring back at Aang like moons.

He frowns, finally finding things just don’t add up here. What is going on here?

Suddenly, the other boy in armor scrambles forward, his expression wild and slightly crazed. He looks at Aang like the younger kids do when they beg him to teach them how to airball.

“How old are you, …Aang?”, he demands breathlessly.

He cocks his head, frowning even more. Their questions are becoming weirder and weirder…

“...I’m twelve!”, he responds dutifully, exasperation leaking into his voice. Wanting to get to the bottom of all these questions he adds on: “…Why do you keep asking me stuff? What’s wrong?”

Silence follows. For the first time, Aang notices how eerily quiet this place is. This whole thing is starting to give him the creeps.

He could swear it’s an eternity when finally Katara speaks up, voice hesitant yet heavy with emotion: 

“There haven’t been any Airbenders in a hundred years.”

Storm, lightning, freezing cold water, loss –

“Of course that’s not true! I’m right here! Just yesterday I was at the temple, I swear!”, he counters immediately, not believing what he’s hearing. 

Of course it’s not true. Nuh uh. Never.

Katara’s eyes change, glazing over into a dull shade of blue. It looks like she’s somewhere else when she’s about to open her mou –

Suddenly, and without warning, the armored boy lunges at Aang, teeth bared like fangs and palms alight with fire.

Aang twitches in surprise, not expecting a spontaneous match of tag, before elegantly pushing himself out of the other’s boy's trajectory with a gust of wind and a little flourish of his feet.

The boy faceplants into the snow with a growl when he doesn’t catch Aang, a small heap of it staying on his head when he whips it back up.

He can’t keep the chuckle out of his voice when he comments playfully: “You could have told me you wanted to play tag from the start! That would have made this a whole lot less awkward!”

The boy in blue begins to stammer from Aang’s right: “...Uhhh, Aang –”, before being interrupted by a growl even louder than the first one from the Firebender.

“You have to come with me! You must know something about the Avatar!”, he shouts, spitting fire and pointing at Aang.

Lightning, rain, loss, …the Avatar.

Oh no. 

Immediately Aang can feel his eyes widen comically when he finally remembers what happened yesterday, only to feign ignorance the second he realizes what that means.

“Oh! The Avatar… uhhhh… Never heard of them…”, he lies, dwindling his thumbs and staring at the sky. 

Easy… Don’t let them know and you’ll be just fine…

The boy in armor grimaces, face distraught and marked by fury: “That can’t be true! You must know something!” 

Aang laughs mirthlessly, as casual as he can: “Hehe, yeah, crazy huh? …But I really don’t know anything, …sorry.”

Smooth. Smooth…

Acting as natural and relaxed as he can, he collects his staff lying next to Appa on the ground, whistling a silly tune as he goes.

Smooth.

Still however, his easy-going act doesn’t convince the Firebender: “No! You must know something! You have to come with me!”, he bellows, just before lunging at Aang again.

Acting on his instinct as an Airbender, he maneuvers out of the way again, only this time it doesn’t deter the boy; He shifts into a combat stance, bending a flurry of fire at Aang. 

Not expecting that, he’s overwhelmed, scrambling to stop the fireballs.

“Woah!”, he yelps, panicked, sending out a horizontal gust of wind without having any time to think.

Snow and ice is sent flying, and looking at it now he might have overdone it. 

Gritting his teeth and already wincing in sympathy he watches the air disperse the flames sent his way just before hitting the Firebender square in the chest, sending him flying backwards several ten’s over meters. 

There’s a cut-off scream followed by a low groan and then – Silence.

“...Spirits, did you kill that guy?”, the water tribe boy mumbles to himself, and Aang immediately jumps in to clarify.

“No, no, monks don’t kill, he has to be fine!”, he states, and as if on cue there’s another groan coming from the heap of snow the Firebender’s caught up in. 

“See?”, he points out relieved, waving towards the source of the noise.

Apparently not worrying too much about the state of the Firebender, Katara approaches him fast on her feet, raising her hand and offering up: “Maybe we should leave, I don’t think –” before immediately being cut off.

“You’ll only leave this place with me!”, the Firebender shouts weakly, struggling to dig himself out of the snow. Vapor rises into the sky as he begins to melt himself out of the sleet.

Katara keeps glancing at Aang, eyes worriedly jumping between him and the melting snow. 

At the end of his rope he just shrugs at her, shouting back in the direction of the Firebender: “Why can’t we just get along?”

…which is immediately answered with a clear response: “You can come along with me!”

A hand lands on Aang’s shoulder as he listens, finding it belongs to the boy in blue.

His face is neutral, stern, serious yet open: “I don’t think he’s going to listen to you.”, he says, before changing the topic.

“Katara and I have been trying to find a way out of here. You wanna stick together?”, he asks, and Aang’s face instantly lights up.

“Of course! Me and Appa can go anywhere! You have got to see the Air Temples!”, he chitters energetically, already jumping into his furry friend’s saddle.

Slowly, the other two follow uncertainly. Aang’s not sure why but he’s not going to pry. This has been a really really really weird day.

Everyone’s in the saddle when suddenly one more fireball comes flying their way, soaring over their heads.

Oh right!

Leaning out of the saddle he shouts: “You wanna come along too?! There’s still space here!”

“Aang you–”

“I think he’s good on his –”

His two new friends immediately offer up their own perspectives, but just as before, the Firebender cuts them both off: “I’ll find you! We’re not finished!”

He’s marching towards them, stopping a few meters away from Appa, vapor rising out of his clothes and face utterly displeased.

“We can take you with us wherever you wanna go!”, Aang offers again, waving enthusiastically at Appa beneath him.

The boy’s scowl deepens, his eyes shining like he’s in deep thought. 

Aang just smiles even broader, if that is even possible. He’d really love to say he made three friends instead of two. 

The boy keeps staring at him with eyes narrowed to a pinprick, but no response comes from his lips.

Slowly, from his right, the Water Tribe boy leans in, whispering in his ear so only the tree of them can hear: “I think that means he doesn’t want to.”

Glancing over his shoulder at him Aang finds him nodding sagely, and Katara too jerks her head in agreement.

Well if that’s the case…

Aang shrugs, taking the reins in his hand and saying goodbye to his almost-friend: “Suit yourself! Let us know if you change your mind!”, followed by a quick, “Yip yip!”

Appa soars high into the sky at the command, at the same time as their almost-friend rushes close with a strangled: “Hey–!”, but whatever he might have wanted to say doesn’t reach them anymore. 

They’ll run into him again, Aang’s sure. They’ll catch up then. He seemed nice.

Feeling the wind rush around him, the clouds growing ever closer he begins to feel at home already. 

However, his two new friends don’t seem to be as at home in the sky as he is; They grip the saddle tight, eyes wide and alight with fear. 

Wracking his brain for any consolidation he tells them exactly what Gyatso did during their first flight lessons.

“Don’t worry guys as long as we don’t fly a loop we’ve got nothing to worry about!”, he states, laughing at how giddy flying again makes him. It feels like it’s been ages.

Focusing ahead he can’t wait for what’s coming next; vibrating with excitement he calls out their first destination:

“Next stop: The Southern Air Temple!”