Chapter Text
Every fishing trip is a unique experience. Currents change directions. Ice floes float away, melt, and refreeze in accordance with the seasons. Fish migrate throughout the different stages of their lives. Each venture out on the open sea must therefore forge a new path to improve the chances of success.
Most importantly, though, Sokka always comes up with some ridiculous new gimmick to make the trip more exciting. This time is no exception. He pulls out a spear as soon as they get on the water and declares that he’s going to teach himself spearfishing. It goes badly. He constantly misses his targets, nearly falls into the ocean twice, and somehow gets his spear lodged in an ice floe almost fifteen feet from them. Azula can’t quite tell if he’s being serious or just trying to lighten the mood with his myriad of failures. Regardless of his motives, she’s thoroughly entertained.
“It’s not getting away from me this time,” Sokka declares yet again. Azula peers forward to see a fish far too small for spearfishing swimming alongside the boat. “Watch and learn, Katara.” He grins like the brilliant idiot that he is and brandishes the spear with an almost comedic flair. “This is how you catch a fish.”
Azula looks from Sokka to Katara and finds that she’s already stopped paying him any attention. Instead, she’s staring at the water. Azula frowns, concerned. She hopes her friend hasn’t gone back to worrying about whatever chores surely await her when they return to the village. The whole point of this trip is to give her a break from all of that. It won’t do her any good if she dwells on it the whole time.
But then Katara takes off one of her gloves and starts bending ripples along the surface of the water. Her movements are slow and serene at first, almost like she’s playing. Then the other glove comes off. She guides the water under her hands in a spiraling motion until a single, slightly wobbly sphere breaches the surface. In the center of the sphere is the unmistakable sight of a cod icefish—a main staple of their diet now that there are no fishermen left to sail farther out for bigger catches.
“Sokka, look!” Katara exclaims happily.
Sokka doesn’t look up from his prey. “Shh! Katara,” he whispers as if it will make a difference to the fish. “You’re going to scare it away.”
“But I already caught one!”
This time, Sokka does turn. Unfortunately for him, the blunt end of his spear knocks into Katara’s water orb, causing both the water and the fish to fall directly on his head. The fish bounces off his wolf tail, flops back into the water, and makes its lucky escape.
“Hey!” Katara scolds him as she gestures to the ocean. “You made me lose my fish!”
Sokka glares at her even though it’s his own fault he got soaked. “My hair is mere seconds from freezing solid, and you’re worried about the fish?”
“Don’t be such a baby,” Azula tells him. She ignites her palm to dry his hair, but Sokka pushes her away.
“Absolutely not! I’ve experienced more than enough bending for today.” Sokka makes a grand show of drying his hair with one of his gloves instead. “There’s only so much magic a normal guy like me can take.”
“It’s not magic!” Katara snaps.
But then the canoe jerks forward as it hits a warm, rapid current, and suddenly their argument doesn’t matter anymore. They’re being dragged dangerously far out to sea at a speed they can’t hope to steer through. Azula pulls her oar into the boat before the strength of the current rips it out of her hands. Sokka, on the other hand, tries in vain to paddle through even though it isn’t helping their situation at all.
“Watch out! Go left!” Katara directs him as if it’ll make a difference. They’re at the mercy of the ocean spirit now. “Go left!”
They do not go left. Instead, they manage to barely slide between two ice floes before crashing directly into a third. The canoe splinters underneath them as they throw themselves onto one of the floes. Sokka slams his spear into the ice to keep the three of them anchored until the wake from the crash slows to a stop.
“You call that left?” Katara asks sardonically once everyone’s hearts stop racing.
The two siblings start to bicker, but Azula has had years of practice at tuning them out. She focuses instead on trying to discern their current position. Wolf Cove isn’t visible from this far out in the ocean, but she knows it’s somewhere vaguely behind them. It’s just a matter of how far. She has no idea if they’ll be able to make it back before the single hour of darkness the South Pole will experience tonight. They have no supplies either, having lost what little they brought with the canoe, so they might have to deal with the issue of scrounging for food and fresh water along their journey. It sounds like an impossible situation, but she reminds herself that she’s faced worse odds before.
Before she can finish coming up with a tentative plan, waves start to rock the floe they’re stranded on. Alarmed, Azula snaps her gaze back to her friends just in time to see a massive iceberg cracking in half. Sokka throws an arm around both her and Katara as the three of them once again find themselves at the ocean spirit’s mercy.
It’s not as bad this time around. Their ice floe stays intact, and no one falls overboard. A few shards of ice fly their way, but between Azula’s firebending and Katara’s waterbending, none of them manage to hit the trio.
“Okay…” Sokka drawls once he recovers from the shock of what’s just happened. “You’ve gone from weird to freakish, Katara.”
Katara gasps, realization dawning on her. “You mean I did that?”
Azula purses her lips. What in the world had she missed by tuning out their argument? How did it end up with Katara accidentally cleaving an iceberg in half? Sokka rarely says anything stupid enough to warrant that kind of response.
“Are you making the bubbles, too?” Azula has to ask because now the water is bubbling like a boiling stew and emitting a strange bluish white light that she’s pretty sure isn’t a natural occurrence.
Katara doesn’t answer her, but she doesn’t need to. Azula sees the glowing iceberg emerge from underwater almost as soon as she finishes asking her question. If she squints, she can see two shapes frozen within: one shaped like a human meditating and another an indistinguishable mass of something. She’s never been devout, but there's only one explanation that she can think of: they’ve just disturbed the spirits.
Azula takes an involuntary step backward when the spirit opens its eyes, but Katara rushes forward. “He’s alive!” she exclaims. “We have to help him!”
Katara steals Sokka’s club from him and runs off before anyone has the chance to stop her. Sokka yells after her, but when it becomes clear that she isn’t listening, he grabs his spear and runs after her. Azula follows reluctantly because, as stupid as all of this is, she isn’t about to let her friends face a potentially angry spirit on their own.
She gets there just in time to be blasted with a great gust of wind as the iceberg splinters open like a massive egg. Bright, blinding light shoots upward, and all three of them have to cover their eyes. It’s like nothing Azula has ever seen before, and yet, she can’t help but find it familiar in some strange way.
(Those who are blessed by the spirits will always recognize their presence.)
Eventually, the light dims, and a figure emerges from what’s left of the iceberg. Rather than the angry spirit Azula had been expecting, it’s a little bald child with an arrow on his forehead. She observes him from afar, confused. It’s been seven years since she’s seen a painting depicting those same arrows, but she will never forget their meaning. Somehow, nearly a century after their genocide, Azula is face-to-face with an airbender.
Said airbender could not possibly care less about how out of place he is. He asks Katara to go penguin sledding with him, waves off both Sokka’s spear and suspicions as if it’s completely reasonable for him to be here (for someone like him to still exist), and introduces them to a gross fluffy monster that hasn’t been seen in just as long as any airbender.
“Did you see that crazy bolt of light?” Sokka reminds Katara, who is entirely too entertained by the newcomer and his pet to heed any of the usual safety precautions for encountering strangers. “He was probably trying to signal the Fire Navy!”
“Why would an airbender want to signal the Fire Navy?” Azula points out before Sokka can get too far into his conspiracy theory. “He’d be in even more danger than us.”
Katara gasps and looks at the boy with renewed wonder. “You’re an airbender?”
“Sure am!” the boy confirms.
Less enthusiastic than his sister, Sokka leans closer to Azula and whispers: “How’d you know he was an airbender?”
“All master airbenders had those arrows,” Azula whispers back. “What I want to know is how he and his people have been able to hide from the world for so long, and how he got separated from them.”
Sokka grimaces. “He has to go back to them as soon as possible,” he decides. “If the Fire Nation finds out that there are still airbenders around…”
He doesn’t have to finish his sentence for Azula to understand. She knows all too well what her country of origin does to benders from other nations.
*****
Miles away, another firebender sees that same bright light and recognizes it for what it is—no matter how impossible such a thing ought to be.
“Helmsman!” he shouts. “Set a course for the light!”
*****
They end up riding the fluffy monster back to Wolf Cove. Somewhere along the journey, Azula learns that the monster is actually a sky bison named Appa. The airbender is named Aang. It’s a name that none of them have ever heard of before and probably won’t hear of again.
Azula is staring up at the hazy evening sun when Katara asks Aang if he knows what happened to the Avatar. She doesn’t even have to look at him to know his denial is a lie. What she doesn’t understand is why. She plans to ask him when they’re back on land, but the kid falls asleep before they reach the shore. Sokka ends up having to carry him into his family’s igloo. Aang is so exhausted that he doesn’t stir once—not even when Sokka nearly drops him after tripping on a rock.
“He has hypothermia,” Katara tells them once she checks the boy over. “It’s surprisingly mild considering he was frozen in ice and has such thin clothing, but I’m going to need to check on him every half hour or so until his temperature comes up a bit.”
Azula takes this as her cue to grab one of the extra blankets she keeps for polar nights and drapes it over Aang. It’s not as if she’ll be needing it at any point in the next five months. She figures there’s no harm in letting him keep it until he’s well enough to return to wherever his people are hiding.
*****
Aang wakes up late the next morning looking awkward and out of place. He politely declines all offers to borrow warmer clothes, claiming that his airbending will be able to keep him warm now that he’s feeling better. Katara doesn’t seem to believe him, but Azula does. Her own bending can keep her warm for a few hours at a time if she focuses on keeping her breathing steady. Airbending, she supposes, must involve a great deal more breath control than any of the other elements.
Still, the thin yellow and orange linen stands out in an endless expanse of blues and whites and thick fur pelts.
Another thing that stands out when it comes to Aang is that he’s almost completely unaware of the war. It’s as if whoever had been sheltering him had never once bothered to explain why they were in hiding. Azula notices the horror and confusion written all over his face when Gran-Gran says that everyone thought there were no airbenders left in the world. She sees the way he pales when it dawns on him that their village is barely scraping by. She hears the tremor in his voice when he pulls her aside and asks how the state of everything has gotten so bad.
Azula tells him. She doesn’t go into detail—doesn’t share her own personal grief. They’d be here for days if she had to list out every hurt that lives within her and everyone else who remains. Instead, she lists the main points. The raids. The blockade. The abduction of waterbenders. The decades long genocide of the Southern Water Tribe. The men leaving to join the war because staying means accepting that the Fire Nation has already won.
“And this has been going on for a hundred years?” Aang asks, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. His eyes are so unusual, round and slate gray and unlike anyone else’s, and yet, Azula could swear she’d seen someone with eyes like his before.
“Nearly,” Azula replies, ignoring the way Aang’s eyes seem so familiar. She hopes he doesn’t actually start to cry. She’s never been good at handling other people having emotions in front of her. That’s usually Katara’s job. “It’s gotten much worse since Fire Lord Azulon took the throne.”
“Azulon?” Aang repeats like it’s the most ridiculous answer he’s ever heard. His face scrunches up in confusion. “But isn’t he like… only eight or nine? Why would he want to do this to the Water Tribes?”
Azula stares blankly at Aang, entirely at a loss for words. Her former grandfather was ancient when she left the Fire Nation. It makes no sense that a twelve year old would only know of the Fire Lord as a young child. Not unless—
“When did you get frozen in that iceberg?” she demands to know even though she’s already dreading the answer.
Aang shrugs. “I don’t know. A few days ago?”
“And the exact date?” Azula presses.
Aang raises an incredulous eyebrow but answers her all the same. “Two days before the festival for the Century Comet.” Azula feels her breath catch in her throat. No one has called it that since before the war. Aang keeps going, oblivious. “I take it from the lack of festivities here that I missed my chance to see it. Well, I guess I might see it again if I live to be one hundred and twelve. But I missed this one, didn’t I?”
Azula has no idea how to tell Aang that he missed so much more than a simple comet.
*****
Telling Aang goes badly—not that it could have gone any other way. His initial response is one of obstinate denial. It should be impossible for someone to survive in ice for a hundred years, especially without aging a single day. And yet he knows deep down that this world he woke up to isn’t the one he left behind. There is no other explanation.
Azula is relieved when Aang asks to be left alone while he processes the news. She can’t bear to witness another moment of his grief.
It isn’t until much later that she remembers that he’d lied about knowing what happened to the Avatar, but she supposes it doesn’t matter now. His information would have been a century out of date anyway.
*****
“We need to prepare for the possibility of a Fire Nation raid,” Sokka declares later that afternoon. “If they saw that light beam yesterday, then it’s only a matter of hours before their ships arrive.”
Azula doesn’t disagree, especially when Karmik reveals that she’d seen the light all the way from Wolf Cove. If the village could see it, then so could any Fire Navy ships that happened to be on patrol.
“Shall I go and steal Katara from her chores?” Azula asks before they can get into any specifics. “She’ll want to be a part of the planning.”
Sokka grimaces. “Yeah, about that…”
“What.” Azula says flatly. She has a feeling that she won’t like what Sokka is about to say.
“As far as the Fire Navy knows, we have no benders,” Sokka points out sheepishly, like he knows Azula is following his train of thought and that she doesn’t approve. “I don’t want to run the risk of them discovering otherwise. Should there be a raid, you and Katara need to take Aang far away from the village and stay out of sight until one of us comes to get you.”
“Absolutely not!” Azula disagrees immediately, vehemently. “I’m not hiding. You’re going to need me here if there’s a fight.”
She understands why Sokka wants Katara far away from any raids. While the last raid and the men leaving had spurred Sokka and Azula (and eventually Karmik) to train more and fight harder, Katara had been burdened with ever-increasing responsibilities. She wouldn’t be able to keep up in a physical fight—at least not without her bending.
But Azula has never slowed in her training. She’s the only one in the village who can match Sokka’s skill with a club. She can do this. She knows she can.
Sokka shakes his head. “No. It’s too risky,” he insists. “If something happens and you end up having to defend yourself with fire, you’re as good as dead.”
“And you’re so much better off with nothing whatsoever to protect you if you get disarmed?” Azula spits back. “I’m not letting anybody else get burned!”
“Anybody else?” Sokka’s expression goes from confused to horrified to understanding. “Azula, you were only eight last time. There was nothing you could have done.”
“Well I’m not eight anymore.” It feels whiny and petulant to say as much, but Azula refuses to back down. She hasn’t spent all these years training just to be sent away at the first sign of trouble. “I know how to fight with a club and a knife, and I can wear war paint to obscure my Fire Nation features. None of the raiders will ever suspect that I’m a firebender.”
Sokka starts to waver, looking at Azula like he’s weighing the pros and cons of letting Azula join the fight. Karmik uses this as an opportunity to voice her support. “Azula is a much stronger fighter than me,” she points out. “Our chances of success will be far greater if she stays.”
“Fine,” Sokka concedes. “You can fight with us.” He exhales a long, gusty sigh. “But I already suggested that Katara take Aang penguin sledding once she finishes up with her chores, and I’d appreciate it if neither of you tried to change her plans.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Karmik easily agrees.
Azula resists the urge to sigh, thinking of all the ways in which this could come back to bite them. “Okay,” she says anyway. “But it’s on you to deal with Katara’s inevitable rage afterwards.”
Sokka waves her off. “It’ll be fine,” he lies. And then, more truthfully, he adds: “I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.”
*****
They wait until after Katara and Aang leave the village to start preparing for the raid. Katara had been kind enough to repair and reinforce Sokka’s watchtower before departing. Sokka exclaims over and over again that she’s the best sister ever until she gets so annoyed that she hits him in the face with a snowball.
Aang laughs.
As soon as the two benders are out of sight, Sokka runs up to the top of the watchtower. “Fire Navy ship,” he reports to a waiting Azula and Karmik below. “Only one that I can see, but it could just be a scout.”
“How long do you think we have?” Karmik asks.
A moment of silence passes. “A little under an hour,” Sokka tells them.
Azula mulls this over. An hour is enough time for the three of them to prepare, but it’s not nearly enough to evacuate all the women and children. Even if they did have that sort of time, there’s nowhere to send them that won’t leave them vulnerable. There isn’t nearly enough cover out in the tundra, especially not in the light of the endless sun. They’d be sitting turtle-ducks for the Fire Navy to pick off one by one.
“We could try lying to them,” she suggests. “If they don’t attack us outright, I mean. We can say that we have no idea what light they’re talking about, or we can claim it was the celestial lights. With Aang gone, they won’t see anything out of the ordinary.”
She pointedly does not mention what happened the last time someone in their tribe lied to a raider.
Sokka shakes his head. “Either way, we still need to show some kind of resistance,” he points out. “It’ll be too suspicious if we don’t try to fight them off.”
“Then we attack, but not with everything we’ve got,” Azula replies. “We act offended that they’ve come to our shores when we’ve done nothing wrong.”
“And when they ask about the light,” Sokka continues for her, having figured out the plan. “We lie. They’ll see a small village made up almost entirely of women and children, decide we’re not a threat, and leave. It just might work.”
It will have to. The Fire Nation ship is nearly at their shores.