Chapter Text
Many years ago, before the Southern Water Tribe was blessed with another waterbender after so decades deprived of one, the Fire Nation came to the south for a reason besides raiding.
One day in the middle of spring, a fleet of Fire Nation ships–headed by someone with the rank and power necessary to command such a force–made landfall at the Southern Water Tribe. The warriors were sparse on patrol and all within the village knew that such a large enemy force could easily overwhelm and destroy them if they were to attack right then.
The Fire Nation held them all at ransom that day.
After a long journey at sea and clashes with the Earth Kingdom, their reserves were running low, and the firebenders demands were mostly simple: food enough to be distributed to their stores and time for repairs to their ships.
But there was one demand that was not so simple or so easily forgotten.
It happened near the end of their unwanted stay. By the soldiers’ words their commander was a “man of high taste” who frequented clubs of high standing that offered grace and entertainment. Or at least, that was the explanation they gave when they ordered a beautiful young woman named Kya to come aboard the the lead ship and dance for their leader.
And though the man she loved was not present to see her be chosen, the pendant around her neck was clear and obvious. The fact that the Fire Nation could easily be ignorant to its meaning did not comfort her. Kya was not foolish enough to point it out to them.
But she submitted to this, because she was a woman who would do anything to protect her home and the people she loved from destruction, even at the cost of her pride. No matter what she told herself though, it did not stop the rising burn of the shame in her heart.
And when she exited the ship late in the evening, her arms wrapped around her sides and head low, Kya could feel that shame bloom with agony.
If only the only thing asked of her was a simple dance.
Soon after the ships finally departed–their hulls heavy with food stolen from their village–the bulk of the warriors returned, furious at the crime that had taken place. Chief Hakoda was one of those men, and it was in him that Kya found solace in the night, her husband’s tender hands and calm understanding that drove it all away.
For a time, she chose not to dwell on it, and Kya busied herself with her husband, her tribe, and her soon to be growing family. Kya wouldn’t tell anyone who it was that used her; she had no interest in talking about it at all. Time was supposed to be the cure.
But it couldn’t stay forgotten forever.
And even Kya couldn’t restrain a cry of unrelenting guilt when her baby was born with eyes that were not blue, but instead a shade of burnished gold.
-[Fifteen years later]-
Sokka knew this was a bad idea from the start.
But did anyone listen to him? Oh no, it was all about finding a teacher for Aang, even if that meant walking directly into a Fire Nation town in the midst of a festival of all things. Sokka felt the discomfort the entire time, his heart beating like mad beneath his chest. That was the last place he wanted to be. It was a only due to good luck that the three of them had the fortune to run into a Fire Nation defector who helped them escape from the city.
The realization that there were members of the Fire Nation who opposed the army’s actions was startling in of itself, an indicator that maybe things weren’t black and white as they appeared.
But that was no reason for them to let their guard down.
Sokka said as much himself when their rescuer, the ex-soldier named Chey with a penchant for explosives, wanted to lead them into a meeting with his boss. Apparently he served under an ex-general or admiral or whatever named Jeong Jeong.
Of course, not being part of the official military didn’t mean they weren’t dangerous to be involved with. They’d already made the mistake of assuming that just because he was fighting the Fire Nation that Jet and his buddies were trustworthy. Aang was dead-set in this, but they had to be ready at a moment’s notice; going out of your way to ask a firebender to bend just didn’t seem like a good idea.
As far as Sokka was concerned, nothing good came from firebending.
Strangely enough though, the old man did agree to show Aang a thing or two, though he looked sour as all get out about it. Sokka’s eyes kept straying to the young Avatar’s training while he was fishing without meaning to, a strange curiosity burning in his blood.
As if on cue, his mood plummeted immediately when that training took a sudden nosedive.
Sokka had a few choice words for Aang and the old man when his sister ran off, holding her singed hands closely to herself. Seeing her hurt like that–of all the ways–was intolerable.
He would have gone on, should have gone on, but the warrior had to remove himself when he could feel the old familiar heat building up in his chest. He had to clutch at his chest for a moment until the feeling faded away.
Sokka shook off his discomfort; he had to check on Katara. She was the most important person at the moment. But when he reached the riverbed where she’d run off to, he heard the voice of the old master on the air and stopped in his tracks, ducking behind a tree to listen in. “I've always wished I were blessed like you–free from this burning curse,” Jeong Jeong’s grumbled voice worked out. Sokka was taken aback, not expecting to hear such harsh words to be leveled on his own element.
Katara seemed to be thinking along the same lines, “But...you're a great master. You have powers I'll never know.”
“Water brings healing and life. But fire brings only destruction and pain,” The man’s voice was unrelenting, and as he continued, it was hard not to see the truth in the words. Jeong Jeong clearly believed what he was saying. “It forces those of us burdened with its care to walk a razor's edge between humanity and savagery. Eventually, we are torn apart.” As he spoke, Sokka’s hand wandered subconsciously back to his heart, fingers tightening in the blue cloth.
The heat inside pulsed like a second heartbeat.
Jeong Jeong sighed, and Katara seemed to be struck speechless, no response coming to her lips. “We do not have much time,” He said, changing the subject. “It’s time for you to leave. Go gather your friends before the Fire Nation finds this place.” The waterbender in question kicked it into gear, jumping to her feet and darting into the trees, missing Sokka’s hiding place by a fair margin. The awkwardness might have helped to speed her steps.
Although Sokka’s reason for coming to the waterside was to see his sister, the topic they touched on then was more than a distraction.
Maybe Jeong Jeong wasn’t exactly the kind of guy Sokka thought he was.
He needed to confirm it.
Sokka stepped out of the treeline and made for the bank. The old master didn’t even turn around, but his rough voice called out anyway, “You should go back to your friends, boy. I have nothing to teach your little group any longer.”
“I know that. What happened at the camp spelled that out perfectly well. I actually have a question for you.” The warrior said it in the most forward way he could manage, hopefully to let the man know he was serious. Jeong Jeong didn’t even respond, which Sokka took as a sign to continue, albeit while losing some steam on his serious-face. “Say you know this guy, hypothetically of course, and he grew up in a society that’s all...one kind of person–”
He was rambling, and probably would have continued rambling if the old master hadn’t harshly snapped him out of it.
“Get to the point,” The old man barked sharply, causing Sokka to jump to alertness.
“I just want to know what you’re supposed to tell a firebender who grew up in the Water Tribe!” The teen burst out, nearly shouting at him.
This caused a reaction.
Jeong Jeong straightened, and then slowly turned around to face Sokka down. He hadn’t paid much attention to the boy before, especially with the Avatar so close at hand, but he was doing so now. And all it took was for Sokka confess his most shameful and closely kept secret.
Appearance-wise, it was clear just from a brief look there was mixed blood in his veins. But no one outside of his immediate family knew there was fire in him. He could hardly believe that he was confessing that to a man he barely knew. Though mostly of Water Tribe stock, Sokka’s coal-black hair and golden eyes stood out easily. They had neatly othered him since he was a kid (an unfortunate consequence of his birth that his parents and grandmother tried their best to defend him from to little avail). The eyes in particular Jeong Jeong lingered on, his expression briefly turning very grim.
It wasn’t trust that Sokka was extending to the former enemy. Far from it. But it was the first time someone’s words managed to so concisely echo what he was feeling.
Jeong Jeong’s eyes were sharp and demanding when he spoke next, “Show me.”
The blunt delivery was unexpected. Somehow the reality of being forced to confront it caused his boldness to take a shot, “Well, it was really supposed to be hypothetical…”
“Show me.” The man wasn’t backing down.
Sokka breathed out slowly, stepping closer and sitting down on the bank. He held out his hand palm facing up and–calming his racing anxiety–called a tiny flame into existence. It hovered just above his palm, releasing a faint pulse of warmth. It was so small and fragile that looking at it like this, the fire didn’t look that dangerous at all. Just a flickering tongue of crimson light.
But Sokka wasn’t fooled. He saw firsthand how that flame could hurt his sister, his Tribe.
There was nothing in that fire he could trust.
“This is a choked flame,” Jeong Jeong observed, his voice steady and neutral. Sokka found that he appreciated it, the complete non-judgement, the rough directness, and the lack of a demand for an explanation as to why he was like this. But then, knowing how sharp the old man seemed, he probably guessed exactly why the warrior’s blood was mixed. Jeong Jeong used to be in the Fire Nation military, deserted them even. He had to know what his countrymen were capable of doing, when drunk on power. “You’ve restrained it very thoroughly, starved it,” The man stared at him with flinty eyes, “It would take years of non-action for a firebender’s core to grow this weak.”
“I don’t bend. It’s not me,” Sokka said, not bothering to elaborate any further. What fire he held in his hands then didn’t count. “And I have no intention to do it either.”
The man frowned, now showing obvious displeasure. “Just as there is a difference between controlling the flame and allowing it to run wild–the way your friend did, there is also a difference between simple restraint and self-destruction.” Jeong Jeong gestured sharply at the offending fire in Sokka’s hand, and the displacement of air from that movement alone caused it to sway, threatening to go out. “The fire isn’t the only thing you’re starving, boy.”
The conversation wasn’t going the direction Sokka wanted it to. He’d wanted Jeong Jeong to validate his actions, confirm that the easiest method of preventing destruction was to cut yourself off from it completely.
He clenched his hand shut, extinguishing the fragile fire quickly. The action was so abrupt, and the flame so frail, it wasn’t even able to so much as scorch his fingers.
He wobbled to his feet, feeling off-balance. This was a mistake.
Jeong Jeong rose as well, attitude still just as dark. Sokka found himself wishing the guy would give an emotion that fell outside the realm of super-serious.
“Mark my words, continuing on this path will cause more problems for you than simply a weakened flame,” Jeong Jeong announced, not moving from the bank as Sokka backed away. “The longer you bottle all of that energy inside, the more it will eat at you,” The man continued. “It is one matter to refuse to fight with that power and only use it for minor, innocuous means, but to suppress it so fiercely that your bending glows no brighter than a candle? No. You must learn to understand your flame, or let it slowly consume you.”
Sokka turned away from him, one hand darting to his chest, feeling the heat bubbling inside of him. It was the uncomfortable burn that had begun to follow him from the moment Prince Zuko’s ship crashed through the ice of his village. Of an odd feeling like thrill and pain put together surfacing on the first time he saw real firebending since the day his Dad left home.
Was this what he meant?
Would his health keep deteriorating the longer he refused?
He wanted to deny the announcement, but it was somehow extremely difficult to outright reject what the older man was telling him. There was just something about Jeong Jeong’s words that rang true in Sokka’s mind. Or maybe it was because the master firebender most likely didn’t care enough about him to bother trying to deceive him.
Sokka hated the idea of relying on firebending, but was it really worth it to take these risks?
Deep in his head, Sokka realized that it really wasn’t worth it. If repressing to this level caused something terrible to happen to him, who was going to look after his sister and Aang? He could tolerate maybe lightning a candle or a torch every now and then...right? Like that, he might still be able to hide it from other people if he was careful.
Even so, the shame and disgust that caused him to repress it in the first place still festered in his thoughts.
Sokka didn’t get the chance to respond. Just when he was about to open his mouth and express his lingering doubts, there was an explosive crash of heat and suddenly the riverbank was wreathed in flames. Jeong Jeong threw up his hand instantly, bifurcating the inferno around them with minimal effort. If nothing else, it proved that despite no longer having any taste for combat, the master was still an indomitable force of bending.
He was nothing like Sokka.
The chugging of a bulky Fire Nation riverboat quickly became priority, interrupting his thoughts. At the head of the ship was a man in armored regalia that matched the description of the Admiral Zhao that Aang had told him about. It was time to go.
“Go get your friends and flee!” Jeong Jeong ordered Sokka, “Do not come back here or you will all be destroyed. Hurry!” He assumed a defensive stance and faced down the approaching ship.
Sokka heeded his words, dashing back into the treeline. But even as he was racing to meet up with the others, his chest was burning with a new layer of understanding of what the old man had told him. Maybe he would always hate his firebending, and maybe he would never truly accept it, wishing to be anything else.
But he would never put his family at risk for his own discomfort. That, Sokka could be certain of.