Chapter Text
Soulmates were a big thing in the southern water tribe when Sokka was a kid. As they were everywhere else he figured. It changed when the Fire Nation raids ended up killing his mother.
Shortly after, his father and every other male had left the village to aid the earth kingdom in fighting in the war. They couldn’t stand beside and let their newborns, their soulmates, or their village, burn bright crimson against the summer snow.
It was a subject they tended to shy away from now.
They didn’t leave more skilled than any hunter even if they trained for many months before leaving. Instead of training alongside them, he got stuck with Katara aiding Gran in delivering the next generation of the village. Just his luck.
Everyone else got to fight for who they lost and to protect who they cared for, so why couldn’t he?
He sat on the seashore, using fresh snow to wipe off his face paint, while the older men boarded the ships. He counted the waves as they pushed and pulled in the moonlight; not watching as his father sailed into the horizon.
“I need you to stay and take care of things around here for me. You and your sister,” Hakoda affirmed before messing up Sokka’s hair.
Regardless of how his father put it, they were being left alone again.
Every time he closed his eyes, Sokka remembered those words. With a groan, he flung himself back onto the snow and watched the stars twinkle above. His eyes itched and watered but Sokka didn’t feel sad enough to cry. He didn’t know what he was feeling.
He had never felt so lost in his life. A shooting star broke apart in the sky and for a brief moment, Sokka wondered what his mother would say if she was here—she always knew what to say. He was about to kindle the small fire when Katara appeared from behind him.
“You should be sleeping.” Sokka sat up, before pushing around the snow with a small stick.
She sat down with a huff.
“Yeah and who left you in charge?”
“Dad did.”
Katara was silent at first, her focus somewhere far on the horizon before she looked over to him once again. “Someone had to make sure you came back home in one piece. I was beginning to wonder if you had found some way to cling on the boats and stow away.”
“Wish I did.” Sokka snorted.
Katara smacked him with her gloved hand. “Being here is not so bad, you know.” She glowered.
Sokka didn’t say anything. Instead, he pulled his knees to his chest and watched as the fire blinked and the embers floated away.
Katara sighed and her muscles relaxed. “What did he say anyway?”
“Take care of the village for him. You and me.” Sokka threw his hands up, “How am I supposed to do that?”
“Fish? Help around? Seems sort of straightforward to me.” Katara shrugged.
“Thanks,” he dropped his hands into his lap. "That's great advice." he sneered, causing Katara to roll her eyes.
She hoisted herself up sneezing when a gust of wind blew by. “Do your normal chores, and I’m sure things will work themselves out. Dad wouldn’t have said that if he didn’t believe in you. You just have to be patient for once in your life.”
He shivered, looking towards the shooting star again only to find it faded away. “I suppose so.”
“Come on. Let’s go home before you catch a cold,” Katara mumbled before kicking out the fire.
The next morning came quicker than he would have liked. His eyes kept closing while he waited for the fish to take the bait. In the end, it took three hours before he could fill one basket with common soles and a few anchovies.
He didn’t expect to carry back a couple baskets but he was sure he’d have at least two. Sokka clenched his jaw as he stored the fish away with the rest of the rations in the shallow pit.
The men had left some food behind, rations to hold for a while. They planned to come back when they could, but that didn’t mean Sokka could slack off. Especially if his father was counting on him.
Three months in, the women in the village started calling him “Little Chief”. The nickname made his ears tingle and his cheeks warm. He is thirteen years old now. He wasn’t little anymore.
He tapped at his knees when forced to sit down. Katara’s keen eyes followed the box in Gran Gran’s hands as she kneeled on the floor. Gran Gran then dipped her thumb into the box and pressed a black thumbprint to his forehead. She smiled and looked at Katara who in turn gave the box to Sokka.
“What do I say?” Sokka stared at the brush as the ink spread along its bristles.
“Anything you want dear. A simple hello should suffice.” Gran Gran chuckled.
Sokka wrote out hello, focusing on each stroke’s legibility. Then they waited.
Nothing came.
“Maybe they didn’t see it?” Sokka searched their faces for some sort of answer. Neither of the two could look at him.
Nothing came the next day either.
His soulmate bond came and went and yet no messages littered his skin. Sokka found it hard to finish dinner. Instead of eating he made it a point to twirl the stick holding his halibut around. Katara had gone off to practice her bending yet Gran Gran stayed behind—staring at him when she thought he wouldn't notice.
"What if I don't get a soulmate? What if they died?"
Gran Gran chuckled, "Sokka, it is more than likely that they are younger than you. Even if you don't, there's no need to worry."
She took the fish out of his hands.
"Your grandfather and I were not soulmates, and I loved him all the same."
It wasn't until the first year passed that Sokka realized his dad wasn’t going to be coming home as much as they hoped they would.
Winter was going to be harsh. The howling wind battered against the sides of their yurt. Sokka yawned as he shifted in his bedroll, struggling to sleep. They were lucky that Katara and their neighbor Imeni helped him gather pelts and fish yesterday before the weather turned.
Sokka was about to close his eyes when the wind seemed to creep closer, and louder. He sat up, and pressed his ear to the wall. The noise continued but Sokka was sure now it wasn’t the wind, an animal had invaded the village.
He scrambled to get out of his sleeping bag and without a second thought, his hand wrapped around his whale’s tooth scimitar. (The fire nation once ransacked their village for Katara. He prepared to protect her if it happened again.) He leapt to his feet and shook his sister.
“Katara.”
She snored in response. A muffled groan came again and Sokka’s blood ran cold.
“Katara.” He hissed, harshly shaking her shoulders.
“Sokka.” She whined annoyed until Sokka held a palm to her mouth.
He pointed outside. “Polar bear.” Her eyes widened and she hoisted herself to her elbows.
A shrill cry blended with the wind. Sokka’s heart leaped to his throat as he sprinted to the door; stopping first to grab the spear mounted above the threshold with his open hand.
The wind nearly knocked him over the moment he stepped outside. He turned his head sharply to the warmth funneling from the open door, “Keep Gran Gran safe. Stay here!”
He ran to Imeni’s Igloo, where the cries had come from. The polar bear had broken the door down. The icey walls were filled with holes. Despite being outside, he had a full view of what happened. Blood stained white fur and blue ice, the animal covered the rest—Sokka regretted feeling lucky. Feeling sick, he threw the scimitar towards the beast.
Sokka was never lucky.
It sliced off its ear and embedded itself into the creature's forehead. It did little less to the creature other than tick it off.
He was going to die.
His hands trembled around the spear as the bear bared its sharp teeth in a roar. He clenched his jaw.
No one was here to help him.
He swung the spear forward. Gasping when his feet slid forward as the bear lunged.
The world seemed to move in slow motion as he fell backwards onto the ice. While he tried to keep hold of the spear, his hands started slipping down the bone shaft. He winced as he felt resistance against the spear.
Sokka opened his eyes as the creature groaned and whimpered above him. A heaviness settled on his legs and lower stomach causing him to grunt. Warm liquid soaked his pant leg and began to puddle in his shoes.
It was over. Sokka caught his breath and started blinking rapidly. He wasn’t dead. “Katara, did you see that!? KA—” He reared his head to the right, only to find she was already outside; her hands raised, determination written on her face.
Sokka shivered as the ice below him froze again. She was the reason he slipped. He sighed letting his head fall back and hit the ground. “I thought I told you to keep Gran Gran safe.”
“You could have died.”
He opened his mouth to object, he didn't need her help, shouldn’t have to rely on it. “Thanks, Katara.” Maybe he wasn’t as alone as he assumed. “Go wake up Mialle and Non and tell them what’s happened. We’ll need their help to lift this thing off me.”
“I could try.” Katara walked closer, her arms still extended. Sokka looked over into the hut and back to her. She didn’t need to see this.
“Katara,” he snapped. The word itched in his throat; coming out more brash than he intended but it stopped Katara in her tracks.
“Katara it’s like as heavy as an arctic camel!” He flung his arms up towards the beast, in a joking manner. Katara huffed, rolling her eyes before taking off towards the house.
Sokka barely had time to recount what had happened in his mind before the two came back. “Where’s Katara?” He asked.
They grunted as they lifted the bear, "Fetching water. You should go see your grandmother to get checked for injuries." He nodded and walked off, still in a daze.
His grandmother took him by the hand and gently sat him down. “I’m proud of you. You and your sister Katara. Taking down a fully grown polar bear. Not many would have survived such an encounter.” A tear slid down her face.
Guilt settled into his throat. “I’m sorry.”
She sighed and waved him off. “Let’s forget about that for now.”
The process took forever. On the bright side, Sokk came out relatively unscathed; aside from some scratches and bruises from when he slipped.
“Your soulmates asking if you’re okay.” She pointed to his knee.
His eyes bulged out of his head. “What?!” He brought his knee to his face, dropping on the seat behind him. There it was in all its glory.
‘What’s with all this blood? Is it all yours? Are you okay?’
“Be Careful.” His grandmother scolded him.
“How can I be careful?” He let out a short laugh smiling. “I’ve been waiting for this for months now! Do we have any Ink?”
“After you get dressed .” She smiled and pointed back to a new set of clothes. "Your parka was looking rather tight on you. It was time."
By the time they finished, Sokka had left again to help the others with the burial ritual for Imeni. She wasn't young, but it was still his first burial since his father told him to protect those left. The words rang in his ears; he had failed. He shifted against the wall of his home.
He was in charge of watching the fire; the rest had gone back to their homes to sleep before their young ones woke up. Gran Gran had brought him the ink set to keep him company. He tried to grip the brush with his covered hand but it slipped out of his grasp and onto the snow.
He winced when he took the gloves off, the wind bit at his fingers but the fire kept the process bearable.
There were a few things that he realized since the first question popped up on his skin.
Sokka’s first reply was in response to something he did. It wasn’t a 'hello', 'are you there', or even an 'I’ve been looking for you.' Which meant that his soulmate was probably--no, definitely older than him.
They read his message months ago and they hadn’t responded all this time. They ignored him.
‘ A polar bear killed my neighbor. I’m fine .’
☼
Zuko awoke to his legs itching as if he danced on a lava ant’s nest. He groaned and got out of bed to wash his face when he looked in the mirror and stopped. Specks of blood covered the bottom part of his face.
“What the fuck?” Zuko whispered. He ran a thumb against his chin expecting the blood to wipe away. When it didn't, Zuko reared back from his reflection.
He hiked his pants up, where red swallowed up to his knees. “What the fuck?!”
A knock came at the door. “Go away!” Zuko threw his arm out trying to stop the door from opening but Iroh slipped in anyway.
“The terrors again?” Iroh’s head was between the door and room but made no move to enter fully.
“No!”
Iroh looked down at Zuko’s reddened limbs and then at the Inkstone box beside the boy.
Zuko scoffed. “Can’t you ever leave things be, uncle? I don’t need your help!”
Iroh’s demeanor did not change, but Zuko swears that the old guy was trying not to smile. He narrowed his eyes at his uncle’s words. “If you’re worried, you can ask them. It doesn’t have to mean more than that nephew.” With that, he left and silence filled the room once again.
It couldn’t hurt? He was going to say something anyway. It was time to tell his soulmate what he thought about the whole system.
‘What’s with all this blood?’
Direct and to the point, like his sister or his father. His eyes twitched at the thought of his father having a soulmate. Growing up he believed that his parents were soulmates. He didn't know how to feel when one night, after spying around with Azula, they spotted their mother with writing on her arm. Writing that didn't match their father's scrawl.
It made sense. Zuko still remembers Azula running down the hall to ask their father about it.
"I do not have a soulmate, for my soul is strong enough on its own." His father boasted.
His sister smiled in awe, she was only eight at the time yet she stood half his height. It did little to hide her Machiavellian demeanor. "I hope I won't have one either."
If she got what she wanted, it would only exaggerate Zuko's wrongness further.
‘Is it all yours?’
It would make sense for his soulmate to be as ruthless as everyone else he had encountered in his life. His father, Azula, Admiral Zhao, Another name on that list wouldn't be out of place. There was Iroh though, and while a fool in his opinion, it was the closest he’d get to normalcy.
The alternative was that his soulmate was dying and Zuko chose to ignore the way his heart sank. They ignored each other's presence. There was no need to feel guilty; his mission had to come first, above all else.
He tapped his foot against the floor and Iroh’s words echoed in his head.
It didn't have to mean anything.
‘Are you okay?’
He paced. An hour passed and Zuko paced. There was no answer. No note as the red disappeared. Nothing. Butterflies began to eat his stomach, with the threat of a broken bond looming over his head. It didn’t have to mean anything.
The second hour passed and he could not stop yawning. He dropped onto the bed with a huff. If it weren’t for the shaking of his leg, he could have fallen asleep sitting up. An itch caused him to fling the covers off. It didn’t mean anything.
‘ A polar bear attacked my neighbor. I’m fine.’
Zuko sighed in relief as the words lettered his skin. It was irking, the way his stomach settled with the knowledge that they were not bleeding out. He shouldn’t care. He repeated the words. It meant nothing.
He reread the words again.
Polar bear.
It was a damning sentence. The fire nation didn’t have any colonies in the poles. The cold made it hard to keep their strength and control. Of course his soulmate would be on the other side of the war. It couldn’t mean anything.
It had been two years since Zuko had been banished and sent to search for the avatar. He wasn’t helping anyone by talking with his soulmate from the water tribe. He hesitated reaching for the brush.
‘Good’
His uncle was wrong.
It meant everything.
Zuko needed to draw a line. For their sake as much as his. That would be the last message he would ever send. His soulmate never sent him messages anyway. It wouldn’t be a problem.
The night came and went, and the morning sun flitting through the clouds caused Zuko to yawn. He leaned against the side of the ship, watching the icebergs on the horizon. They weren’t close enough to be on the frontlines but they were skidding close to dangerous waters.
He tucked his hands under his arms, focusing on warming himself with his breathing like Iroh taught him but it still left him shivering.
The ship was stopping for rations in some out-stretched colony town near the Southern pole. It was a small place, with only a few kids his age that he could see.
“Does the southern water tribe have polar bear attacks?” Zuko asked in a hushed tone while the crew mates began boarding the boat once again.
Iroh raised a brow, flitting his eyes to Zuko while fixating on the shore. “Yes… I wouldn’t say as far as here, however. The animal would have to be desperate to get so close to humans.”
”Oh.”
”Fearing an attack?”
“No. I was merely curious.” Zuko turned his face towards the men walking onto the boat. “What are you doing? Stop lazing around!”
Zuko’s hand prickled, causing him to swat at the assumed bug offender, only to find cursive there instead. “I have to go. Set off for the Southern Air temple!” The men looked between each other but said nothing, causing Zuko’s eye to twitch.
He opened the door to the cabin and nearly ran into firstmate Lee. Lee’s eyes did not meet Zuko’s scowling face but rather the elegant scrawl on his hand. The man’s eyebrow twitched upwards and he fought a smirk as he casted his eyes upwards.
Zuko would not acknowledge it. To acknowledge it would be failure and while Zuko was struggling to regain his honor, he was not a failure. He covered his hand with the other before stepping beside him, not caring if he was pushing the man into the wall as he marched away.
He sighed in relief when he finally made it to his room bracing against the open door before slamming it. He walked over to the table before throwing his hand up to see what had earned him a month of hushed whispers and ‘inconspicuous’ stares.
’ So you’re real. That’s cool.’
Zuko scoffed, of course he was real. What did that even mean? He looked over to the ink stone box hesitantly. There was no reason to send another message to someone the universe had clearly wrongly chosen.
‘What do you want?’
’Youch. Soulmates remember? Usually there’s an introduction process for this sort of thing. ’ The words slowly filled his forearm, leaving Zuko to hunch over as they filled in his arm. He clenched his teeth mulling his reply over in his head, as each painstaking letter marred his sweaty skin.
‘I don’t want a soulmate.’
The response took a while. Zuko sighed, the tension leaving his shoulders. That was probably good enough to scare them off.
‘Okay.’
‘All things bearing, you might change your mind. Let me know if you do. I’m not sure about having a soulmate anyways.”
That’s not what Zuko was expecting.
Zuko replayed the look on the first mate’s face and pinched the bridge of his nose.
‘Do not message me where it can be seen.’
‘So I can message you? You’re already going soft on me.’
Zuko rolled his eyes and watched as the writing on his hand disappeared. A knock came at the door. Time for another useless lesson in breathing.