Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Raava’s avatar had been missing from the world for almost a century and the world suffered for it. The Fire Nation has burned the Air Nomads out of the sky, ripped the Southern Waterbenders from the water, and was in the process of conquering the Earth Kingdom, eating through their land like a hungry wildfire. The world was out of balance, so much so that even the most ambivalent spirits began to take notice.

(“Something is horribly wrong,” the oldest spirits murmur. “Something has gone astray. There is no balance, the mortal world is soaked in blood, yes, but this started long before Sozin’s time.”

“The road to hell is paved with good intentions.” Older spirits murmur in return. “War is chaos, but it leaves a trail of blood and order. Fire casts great shadows, but only because it is made of light. Raava lost her way long before the mortal world did. This is why her avatars have failed us.”

“They are felled by her pride.” Ancient spirits whisper.

“They are tainted by her vanity.” Ancient spirits murmur.

“They are RUINED by her bitterness.” Ancient spirits shout.

“They are brilliant for her determination.” A lone spirit, long neglected in a tree, voices, unheard by others.)

The world has never needed Raava’s avatar more, yet they are absent.

Ideas begin to take root in the minds of younger spirits, and slowly rumors of their plans reach older forces. Agni hears this idea and worries, he plans, then he backup-plans, then he worries some more. La hears this idea and laughs, she snickers until she snarls, until she stops to think. Tui hears this idea and wonders, she considers the consequences, considers the problem, considers the avatar, the mortals, and her estranged eldest brother in his cage. Kho hears this idea and scoffs, he thinks of it no further, but if he whispers it into the shadowy roots of a certain tree none is to be the wiser.

(Vaatu hears this idea and sees, he sees a group of brilliant people, a dawning era of peace, a revival of balance, he sees freedom, and suffering too, but perhaps those are one in the same.)

It is decided that The Dark Water Spirit shall be the one to bring this idea before the eldest spirits. So, on the date appointed for gatherings of great and ancient spirits, The Dark Water Spirit stands before them with the minor spirits’ intentions.

“What do you have for us little spirit?” The Mother of Faces called out. In response The Dark Water Spirit held out a scroll. Oma took it from his hand, unrolling it so that the great spirits could read it.

“Let me get this straight,” said Shu. “You want us to pick a few human souls to TIE TOGETHER so that they can learn from one another?! Like the avatar’s past lives?! Moreover, you want US, THE MOST POWERFUL SPIRITS IN BOTH MORTAL AND SPIRIT WORLDS, to BIND our energy with them, similar to Raava?! AM I GETTING THAT RIGHT?!

La looked up with a bored look, that anyone who knew her knew meant trouble, and responded, “Well, you're missing the part where it’s more like a blessing and less of what Raava did, but that’s actually a great edition thanks for suggesting it.”

Tui cut in before her wife could anger Shu further, saying, “It seems that the other spirits want us to each pick a few mortals whom we believe can help the mortal world, and give the ones we choose our blessing and sponsorship. Then their minds and spirits shall all be bound together so that they can learn from one another and work together to accomplish peace. The bound mortals shall have a variety of skills and shall be able to communicate telepathically no matter the distance. This idea seems all well and good on paper, but I feel it is missing some important details.”

Tui leveled a look at The Dark Water Spirit, as if awaiting all the details the scroll had lacked. Agni, sensing the younger spirit’s mounting panic, was swift to cut in with his triple-checked revision of the scroll (admittedly most of his plan was based on the rumors he heard before this, but it’s the thought that counts). “If we give the mortals some time before we open the bonds, they will be able to develop personalities separate from each other, a good thing in the long run, and if we choose from a few ages, we will get an even better-rounded group. Also, if you want this to replace the avatar, they need to be able to bend multiple elements at a time, rather than just one each. Perhaps this ability could be gained when the bond is activated and can only be used when two of the mortals have a completely opened connection and are both focusing on the bending in question, of course the bending types used would only be the bending of the mortals involved at the moment of using it. This could be a good way to promote teamwork. To incorporate what La and Shu said earlier, perhaps we could attempt to bind the mortals with that of Raava’s current avatar. They are not dead, merely sleeping, and even if they never wake, the new mortals may still be able to access the previous avatars’ wealth of knowledge. To push this even further, and really to make it safely doable, one spirit ought to bind themself to these mortals in the same way that Raava has done, and that spirit can guide them and teach them to bring balance to the world. I hope that this makes the plan a bit more thorough, sister.”

Tui nods, she has suspected her twin had some plan for this already, as she knew he was desperate to find a way to get the Fire Nation to realize that they did not follow the will of Agni, but rather that of generations of madmen. The other great spirits were whispering, however. Finally, The Mother of Faces stood and addressed The Dark Water Spirit. “The elder spirits want nothing to do with this foolish plan, and we will not act upon it. However,” The Mother of Faces glanced to where La, Tui, and Agni sat “If some in our number wish to act they may but know that whoever does will bear the consequences if it goes wrong. That is all we will hear on the matter.”

With that declaration most spirits moved on, leaving The Dark Water Spirit standing beside Agni, La, and Tui.

“We’ll do this for you, but we will do it our way, and none of the younger spirits shall interfere if they doubt our actions. Is this acceptable to you?” Tui asked.

The Dark Water Spirit nodded and vanished into the shadows to deliver the news.

“Okay so what’s the plan?” La asked with a clap of her hands, far too cheerful for the rather grim atmosphere around them.

Agni turned to face her with a grim expression, “Aside from what I just detailed? Simple, Vaatu. We need a spirit to hold these connections and to guide this group on their journey. Who better to do this than one of the spirits of balance himself? Besides, I think we’ve all seen enough of a world dominated by Raava.”

Tui nodded with determination, while La’s face curled into a shark-like grin. “Finally,” said La, “I’ve been waiting for this for years. Let’s break him out!”

“La!” Tui hissed, “A bit more discretion, please, we can’t let anyone know we’re doing this. The others will have our heads. They might not love Raava as much anymore, but there is no way they would allow us to release the spirit of darkness and chaos back into the world. So please, for the love of the realms, don’t go speaking our plan in such a loud voice!”

“Shhh, both of you! Don’t you see where we are?” Agni pushed between the fighting couple and pointed to a few yards away from where he had transported them. As usual, they had been too busy arguing to notice the change in scenery.

“Oh,” said La, pulling Tui close, “we’re here.”

Vaatu hadn’t had visitors in a very long time. Centuries in fact. And why would he? History is written by the victors, and as such he was portrayed as a villain. Perhaps there is something to that, or course, and in retrospect he definitely should have been more thoughtful in his wording of certain things but was he really a villain deserving of this. No, he thought not. (“Yes,” his mind whispered, “You deserve this pain. You have failed. The world is drowning in blood, Raava cannot bring balance alone, yet you fought her plans at every turn. Perhaps if you had simply allowed her to have her way, you could have changed the outcome of this Raava made world.”) Despite all of this, he really wasn’t all that surprised to see his younger siblings standing before him. (Agni is so much taller now. He looks tired, it’s because of the war isn’t it. He shouldn’t have to try to wrangle the Fire Nation alone. Raava’s last avatar really did him no favors. Tui looks so determined, so much like Raava. She’s grown up so much since I last saw her. La looks older too. I always liked her, I’m glad she married into the family. She was such a funny kid. She looks so beaten down now. They all do.) Vaatu drew himself up and spoke, “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

Agni was the first to speak, “We have a proposition for you. Brother.”

Vaatu’s smile was all teeth at that.

La wasn’t sure how to feel when Vaatu accepted their proposition right away. On the one hand it was good for their plan, but on the other… she didn’t know what was on the other. (He was leaving them again just like that? After almost twenty thousand years away from them over a petty fight with Raava he was leaving again? When would she get her brother in all but blood back? He was the reason she built up the courage to confess her feelings to Tui. He was the one who stood in for her nonexistent family at the wedding. He promised he’d try to be back soon. She never cared if that meant Raava would vanish for a few hundred years, not if she got to keep her family. Raava had been family once too. Yet Vaatu would leave them again so easily! She missed him.) It seemed like Vaatu was making a rash decision, but what could she do about it? They needed him to agree if they wanted the plan to work, so she would just have to put her emotion aside.

“We need to choose what mortals to bind together.” It was Agni who spoke, voicing the last part of the plan that they could put into action now. “Ideally they will be a mix of people from all the nations, some benders and some not.”

Tui nodded at that, “Yes, and I know you mentioned a few different ages, so how about we pick a number of souls, and choose mortals to fill that quota over time? Maybe we only choose one, right now.”

“So, like, eight?” La suggested, “Two from each nation.”

“No.” Vaatu interrupted, “The only remaining Air Nomad is Raava’s avatar, though there are some with air in their blood. I feel that to get a true spectrum of people, more than just eight are necessary. I suggest nine, plus Raava’s avatar, making ten in total.”

“Okay,” La begrudgingly agreed, “And how do you propose we decide what nation gets what number of mortals? In case you forgot, ten isn’t divisible by four.”

“Simple, three from the Fire Nation, three from the Water Tribes, and three from the Earth Kingdom. Then Raava’s avatar represents air. Or perhaps one of the ones from the Earth Kingdom could be of Air Nomad descent, there are a few nomad lines that are still alive, though they aren’t benders.”

“Alright,” Agni said, “Ten it is. Tui, I know we suggested we start with only one, as a bit of a trial run to work out some kinks. Do you have someone in mind?”

Tui smiled mischievously, “In fact I do.” With a snap of her fingers the four spirits now stood, invisible, in the Fire Nation royal palace. “Crown Prince Iroh is expecting an heir, though he and his wife haven’t realized it yet. I propose we make the little royal as our first chosen mortal. He is well situated to take control of Fire Nation politics after all.”

Agni took a step closer, a little surprised by his sister’s choice. “So you want to bless him? Wouldn’t that make him a waterbender?”

Tui laughed, “No brother, you’re going to bless him. We can’t have a waterbending Fire Nation royal, now, can we?”

Agni still looked uncertain, turning to La and Vaatu for support. La merely shrugged in a way that seemed to express her disinterest but was more likely intended to show support for Tui's plan. Vaatu spoke, saying, “I think Tui is right. The child will be well positioned for the future, and any strangeness that comes from being the first involved in this plan will likely be written off as a ‘sign from Agni’.”

Taking a deep breath Agni nodded and reached towards the pregnant princess to bless the child. At the same moment Vaatu began to pour a tenth of his essence into the unborn soul, pulling part of his connection to Raava in with it. La and Tui, meanwhile, were doing what they could to bind this unborn soul to that of the sleeping avatar, deep within La’s ocean. When it was done, they all breathed a sigh of relief and hoped that everything would go well.

Raava felt the change in her twin’s essence. Not only that but she felt a change within the spirit of her own avatar. Was… was Vaatu doing something to her avatar? HE HAD NO RIGHT! She had won the world for these ten thousand years, and yes, it may have not been an entirely fair fight, but it wasn’t exactly cheating either. If anything, Vaatu was the one with an advantage, Wan had been just a puny mortal after all, he should have been easy to destroy. Vaatu never wanted to hurt mortals, she used to love that about him. When did that stop? But she had won. She had remade the world in her image, and she was not so blind to what it was becoming now. It was glorious. The Fire Nation would win the war and bring about a new era of light and order peace. The ends justify the means in this case. When did she start thinking like this? This is horrible. The war is horrible. Is it too late to stop thinking like this? (All she’s given up will be pointless if she stops now) She sounds like everything she hates. It’s almost a shame this avatar didn’t drown as she had intended, it would have been better for everyone. No, no, she’s glad little Aang is alive. She really is. No matter, if Vaatu really did do something to her avatar she'll soon discover it. She missed Vaatu. He can’t hide anything from her for long, after all, the light beats back all shadowy places eventually. The darkness can hide, but the light deceives (she deceives no one more than herself).

Several months later Prince Lu Ten of the Fire Nation takes his first breath.

Chapter Text

Prince Lu Ten was an energetic child. He was born in the afternoon of a clear summer’s day, he was healthy, and his eyes shone like molten gold. Every aspect of his birth seemed to spell out good omens for the future of the Fire Nation. (His late mother’s death was easily ignored. Why dwell on the loss of life rather than its beginning? And if her dying screams still echoed in the minds of all who had been present, no one needed to know.) Yet even so, Prince Lu Ten was a strange child. He would often be seen babbling seemingly nothing or making grabby hands at empty corners. It was even worse when he became a toddler. All the palace staff had heard about the incident in which a three-year-old Prince Lu Ten wandered away from his nanny only to be found later in the palace gardens. When asked how he got there all he said was that the ‘nice shadow’ took him there.

(“Um, La, I think he sees us.” Agni stated nervously.

“I think he wants something Agni.” La responded back, also a little nervous about being seen by the small child.

“What does he want? WHY IS HE CRYING?!” Agni practically shouted in panic as Lu Ten began to cry.

“How should I know?! The only children I interact with are DROWNING!” La said, now panicking as well.

Agni turned to Tui, “Tui, help!”

“Why do you assume I’m any better at this than you two?! I don’t know anything about mortal babies’ wants!” Tui responded, just as panicked as her wife and brother.

Vaatu sighed, wrapping a tendril around the little prince, “You are all horrible around children. Come on Lu Ten, let’s go visit the gardens.”

“Oh. He stopped crying. Thank you, Vaatu.” Agni said, relieved.

“No problem, Agni.” Said Vaatu as he guided Lu Ten away.)

When Lu Ten was five he had fully cemented his reputation as a troublesome child. He could often be found in trees or hiding in closets or under beds. While he never did anything malicious, it was becoming rapidly apparent that there was simply no staff member who could keep up with the boy. It was around this same time that it became known to most of the staff that Lu Ten had an imaginary friend he was quite attached to, and that the best way to get the young prince to behave was to ask him what his ‘friend in the shadows’ thought he should do. While this didn’t always work, it had a high enough success rate that there was a running joke amongst the palace guards that all the prince’s responsibility and self-preservation skills must only exist in his imagination. (A few of the more spiritual staff wondered if that imaginary friend was truly so imaginary after all when the prince avoided climbing on a weak branch because “his friend warned him about it”.)

By the time the prince was seven he had outgrown the worst of his strange habits, and it seemed to the palace staff that he had simply had an overactive imagination that he had thankfully outgrown. In the eyes of the palace staff, Prince Lu Ten was simply an energetic child.

The worst and best days of Iroh’s life were the same day. The day his wife died, her pained screaming and labored breathing as she exited the world, her hands grasping at his own, shakily reaching for a swaddled bundle she never got to hold. That day haunted his nightmares. However, the day his son was born was the best day of his life. Holding the bundled newborn up to his chest, seeing those bright eyes, so full of light and wonder, gave him a renewed hope for the future. From the first breath Lu Ten breathed Iroh loved him with all his heart. It was easy to forget the oppressive heat of that room and how, when paired with the stench of sweat and blood, it was so like a battlefield when he remembered how the warm sun rays danced on Lu Ten’s face, making his eyes squint so adorably. It was easy to be excited for his son’s future in the daytime, even if he could hardly sleep in his rooms in the palace now, with his wife’s side of the bed so cold.

As much as Iroh loved Lu Ten, he wasn’t around as much as he should have been. Between his responsibilities as a respected general and his responsibilities as the crown prince, his fatherly responsibilities were often neglected. When Lu Ten was young Iroh only saw him occasionally, in between military campaigns as he tried to drown the loss of his wife beneath the blood of the enemy. The child that Iroh had grown to love throughout the years was in truth only a fraction of the whole person that Lu Ten was quickly becoming. Iroh saw in his son his own strength and bending prowess, as well as his dear wife’s compassion. Iroh neglected to notice Lu Ten’s observational skills, his strategic mind, or the way he would stare at the nonbenders training in fascination. Iroh loved his son, and he was a good father in every moment he was there, but Crown Prince Iroh of the Fire Nation struggled to be the father Lu Ten needed. One that loved his son more than anything else.

(To love their nation above even family is a good trait for a prince to have, but not a good trait for a father. As Azulon’s son, Iroh should have known that.)

Even if Iroh was not the ideal father to Lu Ten, he attempted to be understanding. He had never been one to believe in spirit tales, in his opinion they were simply stories to tell children or relics of a less advanced age. Still, seeing the way Lu Ten would occasionally seem to interact with empty space made a man wonder. (“Don’t eat dirt Lu Ten.” Vaatu sighed tiredly. The two-year-old had the audacity to GIGGLE at that, as he continued to raise his muddy fist to his mouth. “I said no, Lu Ten.”) Without truly realizing he was doing it; Iroh began to rethink his stance on spirits. Lu Ten was afterall, a bright child, so obviously there couldn’t be anything wrong with him. (There couldn’t be anything wrong with Iroh’s son and if there was it was his fault) If Lu Ten had been blessed by Agni, then everything could be easily explained. Iroh could never quite accept that idea, but he couldn’t put it aside completely either. Iroh could easily recall a number of incidents, both ones he had witnessed personally and one that he only heard about later, where Lu Ten did something odd such as arguing with empty space, or suddenly stopping whatever ill-advised action he was about to make. Of course, Iroh wrote this all off as a child with an overactive imagination and an imaginary friend. It was far easier to accept than the alternative, and if it pushed him to reconsider sending Lu Ten to a real school, well then that was his business.

As Lu Ten grew and his strangeness shrunk, Iroh turned his worry upon another family member. Ozai had just married a young woman named Ursa. She seemed like a kind woman, but it was obvious she couldn’t care less for Ozai, which Iroh had to admit was likely spurred by Ozai’s own disinterest in his new bride. Iroh attempted to keep the peace within the family, a far more difficult task than he felt it should have been, and was relieved to find the little Lu Ten absolutely adored his new Auntie Ursa. So, Iroh developed a system; at all family gatherings Iroh would pass Lu Ten off to Ursa, who always seemed happy to play with the boy, and distract his brother as best he could, ideally keeping him away from both Ursa and Fire Lord Azulon. (Iroh did feel some shame at putting his son on the front lines of a family conflict like that, in this instance it was worth it for the sake of a calm evening. It wasn't as if this was a real war. He would never actually put his son on the front lines)

Iroh made sure to be home for Lu Ten’s seventh birthday. The young prince seemed so excited. Iroh decided to take his son out for a lunch picnic before the night’s celebrations and was happy to listen to Lu Ten ramble about his studies, and how excited he was to go to a real school next year. Iroh watched with some amusement as Lu Ten began telling him about a battle he had read about. Yes, this is everything Iroh had wanted.

Prince Lu Ten knew he wasn’t normal. Vaatu said that was a good thing, but even that couldn’t make Lu Ten ignore the whispers that followed him everywhere. Father didn’t understand Lu Ten, the servants didn’t understand Lu Ten, in fact the only one that understood Lu Ten was Vaatu. Vaatu was the only one who was always there for him. He was the one who dried Lu Ten’s tears when he cried. He was the one who Lu Ten went to when something was wrong. Sometimes it seemed like Vaatu was the only person who really loved Lu Ten. It took Lu Ten a while, but eventually he realized that Vaatu could still hear him even if he didn’t speak aloud. Eventually he realized that people didn’t stare as much if he just pretended like there weren’t four spirits bickering with each other out of the corner of his vision. Eventually he learned how to be ‘normal’.

Vaatu always told Lu Ten that he wasn’t the only one like him. He would promise that soon Lu Ten would have a whole group of people just like him who would love him as much as he loved them. As much as Lu Ten appreciated that, the only promise Lu Ten cared about was the one Vaatu made when Lu Ten found out what happened to his mother.

(Lu Ten ran to his room in tears. He hadn’t meant to overhear the maids talking, but he had, and now he knew that it was HIS fault he didn’t have a mother anymore.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Vaatu’s voice was calm as ever. Of course it was. He probably already knew.

“Easy for you to say! You probably knew this whole time! You-you didn’t tell me! You don’t get it!” Lu Ten buried his face in his pillow and cried. He may have never met his mother, but Father always said she was the best woman in the world. Lu Ten wanted to know her. But he couldn’t. All because he was born.

“Oh, Lu Ten.” Vaatu placed a hand (tendril? Lu Ten wasn’t sure) on Lu Ten’s shoulder. “Just let it out. I know it hurts to learn this right now, and that’s why I didn’t tell you. I always hoped your father would be the one to tell you, but I guess neither of us were that lucky. That said, I need you to understand me when I say this: IT WAS NOT YOUR FAULT FOR BEING BORN. Your mother knew the risks when she decided to have you. The world is a better place with you in it. There are so many people who love you, and who are happy you exist. It wasn’t your fault.”

Lu Ten’s sobs turned into sniffles as he turned to face Vaatu. “Do you love me?”

“Of course I do.” Vaatu replied.

“Are you going to leave like Father does?” Lu Ten asked quietly.

Vaatu pulled Lu Ten into a hug and said, “Never.”

“Do you promise?” Lu Ten whispered back.

“I promise.”)

Lu Ten didn’t know why he has Vaatu, all he knew was that he would learn when he got older. For now, he would just be happy he wasn’t alone, and next year he would start school. Then he would become the greatest general in the world and make his father proud. Just a little longer.

Agni knew that they might have messed up a bit on Lu Ten. For one thing, he wasn’t supposed to be a firebender. Agni hadn’t meant to put that in the blessing, but he was still figuring this whole thing out. He wouldn’t mess up the next one. As for another thing, Lu Ten could see them. Not just Vaatu but Agni, Tui, and La as well. That had never been the plan. Did that mean that Lu Ten would be able to see the others in the bond? Was that a good thing? Other than those two main things (and a long list of minor things that apparently only he thought were issues) Lu Ten had been an excellent first mortal. With Lu Ten already being almost seven, it was high time they picked out more mortals, which was, incidentally, the very reason Agni was here at this very minute. Listening to Tui and La flirt-fight and trying to get Vaatu to interrupt them since Agni had already tried and failed.

“That’s enough, both of you! We need to decide how many mortals to add right now and who they should be. Your… disagreement can wait.” Vaatu finally cut in, silencing the couple far more effectively than Agni.

“Right. Soooo, what’s the plan? We have eight mortals left, and we still need to decide how the bond should activate.” La said, clearly disgruntled at the sudden end to her previous conversation.

Tui glanced at Agni before speaking, “I think we should do most of them now. Perhaps five? Two water, two earth, and another fire?”

Vaatu nodded. “As for your other point, La, I think we should pick an age. Then when the mortals reach that age the bond will open to them. This way we aren’t waiting on only one person before putting our plan into action. I suggest the age of four, that way they mortals will have a decent sense of self and there won’t be too much of an age gap between them and Lu Ten.”

Agni nodded determinedly, “Okay, five mortals, and the bond will activate on an individual basis when they turn four. That just leaves the real question; who should these five be?”

Tui smiled slyly. “I have composed a brief list of possible options. First off, Chief Arnook of the Northern Watertribe’s wife is with child, and I think that baby would make a good addition to the group. So is Kya, Chief Hakoda of the Southern Watertribe’s wife, I think that child would make a good addition as well. For earth, one of the Kyoshi Warriors is pregnant, and her child will certainly add some diversity. Also, I found an Earth Kingdom family who are descended from Air Nomads, better yet, they are also going to have a baby. The timing of these things has really worked out well, hasn’t it?”

“And who do you propose for fire?” Agni immediately regretted asking when Tui’s eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Oh, I would have thought it obvious. Lady Ursa is pregnant. The fire palace is such a difficult place to grow up, and in case of any unfortunate accidents isn’t it better to have an insurance plan so to speak.” Tui was having far too much fun with this.

“That is a wonderful plan, love! I for one think that we should get started on this as quickly as possible.” La was definitely having far too much fun with this.

La and Tui quickly exited the room, Agni following them with a pained expression, already feeling the headaches that two superpowered royals would give him. Vaatu followed a few moments later with a melancholy smile.

(Vaatu remembered a million days like this. He remembered billions of conversations just like this one. There were differences of course, Agni had far more energy in Vaatu’s memories, La was somehow even louder, and Tui wasn’t as quick to voice her opinions. Raava always encouraged her, in Vaatu’s memories Raava was still there. Vaatu had missed them all so much. His tiny, broken family. Lu Ten had only made this longing for times gone by far more pointed. Sometimes Vaatu didn’t see Lu Ten, but rather Agni, or Tui, or even La. Then he blinked and it was Lu Ten. He blinked and remembered that those kids were grown up, they weren’t the bundles of joy and laughter they used to be. That was Vaatu’s fault. His and Raava’s, they forced them to grow up too quickly. Still, in that moment, he can almost pretend the past never happened.)

The bonding went much faster this time, and Tui could only hope that it would be successful and wouldn’t cause any harm to Lu Ten. Not only that, but she hoped that there wouldn’t be any harm to the mothers either. While the spirits weren’t sure if the bond had anything to do with the death of Lu Ten’s mother, it seemed unwise to ignore that possibility. This bonding needed to go well, otherwise this plan could easily be for naught. The world needed something to get it back into balance and this was the best solution they had found. If it worked, that is. The five new mortals would be born soon, and in a few years, hopefully less than seven, the next group will be born. Their plan was slowly coming to fruition, and Tui hoped it all worked out for the best.

Several months later Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation drew his first breath.

Chapter Text

Are all royal children simply like this? That was the question of the staff at the Fire Nation Royal Palace after spending time looking after Prince Zuko. Prince Zuko was born on a moonless midwinter night. He came into the world fighting for life with no apparent spark in his eyes. (“I swear this is harder than it looks. I know he doesn’t look like a firebender but he is. I promise the next one WILL NOT be a firebender.” Agni said in frustration.) The royal doctors feared the prince wouldn’t make it through the night, but by some miracle he did. Though his birth did not spell out good omens, the prince himself was adorable and just as troublesome as his cousin. Prince Zuko seemed to have the same active imagination as Prince Lu Ten, and twice as much flexibility to fit into small spaces. The staff worried that he would simply be impossible to contain in the next few years, especially once Lady Ursa had her second child and the staff became even more spread thin. At least Ursa made an effort to care for Zuko herself, and she seemed to be a good mother.

Lady Ursa was terrified her newborn son would die before he even got to live (maybe it was better this way, at least Ozai wouldn’t get what he wanted, and the child would never experience the snakepit that was the royal court). He was a beautiful baby, tiny and precious with beautiful golden eyes. She loved him already, but she knew the doctors were worried his fragile form wouldn’t survive. She prayed to Agni as she heard the doctors whispering, suddenly the room went very quiet. Prince Ozai walked into the room with a scowl on his face, unsurprisingly Ursa’s “dear” husband didn’t seem all too excited about the birth of their son. Ursa held the baby closer to her chest, worried that Ozai would try to take him from her.

“Where is my son?” Ozai asked the doctors in a bored manner. That question had not been one Ursa was prepared for. She was expecting a question about why the birth had taken so long, or whether the boy was a firebender, not asking to see the baby. (Maybe he will find some care in his heart for his son, then I won’t feel so guilty to leave my baby with that man.) In her surprised state she didn’t resist the nurses taking the newborn from her, and she said nothing as he was handed to Ozai. Ozai examined the child before looking to the doctors and asking, “Is he a firebender?”

“He has no apparent spark yet, my prince.” The head doctor answered nervously. Ursa began to feel her previous fear course through her once more as Ozai raised a brow at that answer.

“How long until she can try again?” Ozai asked the doctor disdainfully. Ursa jumped slightly, realizing that Ozai was talking about her.

“About a year sir. A few months at the lowest.” The doctor responded carefully, not even bothering to look at Ursa. Ozai hummed at that and began to walk towards the window. “He’s not even carrying the baby correctly,” Ursa thought somewhat hysterically. Ursa lept from the bed, desperately reaching towards her newborn, but fell back to the floor on shaking and exhausted legs. She might have screamed, she wasn’t sure. Ozai was speaking still, but Ursa couldn’t make out the words beyond the ringing in her ears, until a sharp voice jolted her back to awareness and stopped Ozai in his tracks.

“The child is not yet an hour old, Ozai. It is too soon to tell if he will bend. Do not dishonor yourself by killing a newborn infant.” Firelord Azulon’s voice was cutting as he berated his son. He was standing near the door with Iroh, and it seemed that they must have just come in.

“The child dishonors this family by being born under such ill omens, father.” Ozai responded, unwavering as he HELD URSA’S NEWBORN SON OUT A WINDOW. Ursa felt a new kind of terror as she watched helplessly as her baby hung out the window. All she could think about was what he would look like smashed on the ground below. She wanted to be sick. Ursa could only hope that Azulon would stop Ozai in time, as she had lost the strength to stand, and her throat was too closed in sheer panic to scream.

“It is a child, son.” Azulon said, turning his attention from Ozai to the doctors. “Now, bring me my grandchild.” The room unfroze. Ursa was lifted back into bed by the nurses as the doctors took her son from Ozai’s uncaring arms and placed the baby in the arms of the Firelord. Azulon looked approvingly at the infant and handed him over to Iroh.

“Oh, isn’t he adorable!” Iroh cooed at the little one, before walking over to Ursa and gently placing him back in her arms. Iroh continued, “What is his name, Ursa?” Ursa looked up and met her husband’s eyes.

“Zuko.” She said, “His name is Zuko.” Ozai glowered at that, and Azulon nodded in approval. In that moment Ursa made herself a promise; she would do whatever it took to save HER son from Ozai. Whatever it took.

Ursa’s promise turned out to be harder to keep than she thought it ought to be. Zuko was full of energy and had a habit of running off. She had panicked the first few times, before she realized that whatever direction Zuko ran initially he could always be found at the turtleduck pond. Ursa tried her best to be there for him, she really did, but it was difficult. Zuko was easily distracted, and she often caught him interacting with thin air. That had concerned her until she had spoken to Iroh, who said that Lu Ten had been the same way, and that it is simply a sign of an active imagination. That had both calmed Ursa’s fears and excited her. Zuko was so creative already, she could tell, and perhaps she could pass her love of the arts onto him once he was a bit older. Still, Zuko’s active imagination could be… frustrating at times. Although he normally listened to her, Ursa had heard about the staff’s trouble wrangling Zuko, apparently even resorting to tactics they had used on Lu Ten at that age. Even so, Ursa loved Zuko and did all she could to spend time with him.

When Zuko was approaching two years old Ursa was unable to see him as much, as she had fallen pregnant again. Ozai was a monster and Ursa worried about the way he looked at Zuko and what Ozai might do without her around. Still, there was nothing she could do but hope Zuko managed on his own until his little sibling was born. At least he wasn’t alone; Lu Ten loved playing with Zuko and the staff was always nearby to keep an eye on him as well (and his imaginary friend who apparently always led him to the turtleducks and kept him away from Ozai. Ursa had been very nervous when her son admitted that, but Iroh had calmed her fears.) Soon Ursa could return to spending all her time with Zuko, even if that meant running around the palace to see what nook and cranny, he had found that fit him now.

In the back of Ursa’s mind she wondered if she could love both of her children enough to save them from Ozai, or if one would need to be abandoned.

Prince Ozai couldn’t sleep. Down the hall from his chambers he could hear the insufferable screams of his wife in labor for hours now. He really wished she would just shut up. He hoped the baby wasn’t born until morning though, as having his heir born at midnight was hardly good luck. Still, Ozai was rather sure that it shouldn’t be taking this long, if the infant and Ursa both lived it would be a lucky thing. For them of course, Ozai couldn’t care less. After a few more minutes of the deranged screaming the halls went blissfully silent. Ozai debated whether he should just go to sleep now, or get dressed to meet his heir. Just as he had decided to dress and was pulling on his garments a nurse came in to fetch him.

“Prince Ozai, your highness, Lady Ursa has just given birth to a baby boy. Would you like to come meet him?” The nurse looked nervous as she spoke, likely because she had been sent to alert him of the labor and invite him to “support his wife” several hours prior.

Ozai sighed and said, “Yes, I will come meet the child.” He finished fastening his shirt and allowed himself to be led by the nurse to meet his son. Once he arrived in the room he was greeted by the overwhelming stench of blood and sweat, one of the windows was opened to air it out but was clearly failing. In the bed was Ursa, holding his son in blankets. He turned his attention from her to the doctors, boredly asking, “Where is my son?” The doctors hurried to take the child from Ursa’s grasp and hand it to him. The baby was pale and ugly, he had no hair and looked very small. His only redeeming quality was his golden eyes, though they seemed to lack the spark he so often saw in his own. “Is he a firebender?” Ozai asked impatiently.

One of the doctors answered carefully with some amount of nervousness, “He has no apparent spark, sir.” Ozai raised a brow at that answer. It was a disgrace, a firstborn born at midnight with no fire. He should have expected it from Ursa’s son. It was only made worse by the fact he would have to keep the awful witch even longer, until she could give him a suitable heir.

Disdainfully, Ozai asked, “How long until she can try again?”

“About a year sir. A few months at the lowest.” The same doctor jumped to answer. Ozai hummed in acknowledgement as he began walking towards the window. He had no use for a useless heir. Better to dispose of Ursa’s son now before he could become a problem. After all, a child without fire was a stain on his bloodline and would only hinder his ascent to the throne. Ozai needed a strong heir if he was ever going to convince the Firelord to give him the crown in place of Iroh.

“No!” Ursa shouted, as she suddenly leapt from her bed, clearly realizing what Ozai was planning, but her legs couldn’t support her and she crashed to the ground. Ozai merely ignored her plight, she had dishonored him enough for one night.

“Remove her from the floor. She has dishonored me enough with this fireless son.” Ozai addressed the servants. They didn’t move however, looking at something behind him. Ozai turned to see what they were looking at and pushed down his feeling of frustration as his father entered the room.

“The child is not yet an hour old, Ozai. It is too soon to tell if he will bend. Do not dishonor yourself by killing a newborn infant.” Azulon spoke. Ozai felt annoyed by his father’s, and brother’s too by the looks of it, interruption. It would have been far easier if they had arrived later, and Ozai could have spun a tale of the child dying before he arrived. Sadly this was not the case, so Ozai would simply have to make his father see sense.

“The child dishonors this family by being born under such ill omens, father.” Ozai spoke as he held Ursa’s son out the window, preparing to drop him and have this all over with.

“It is a child, son.” Azulon said disapprovingly, motioning Ozai reluctantly away from the window. Before continuing, “Now, bring me my grandchild.” The room burst into a flurry of activity at that, as Ursa’s son was removed from Ozai’s grip and Ursa was lifted from the floor. Azulon stared at the infant appraisingly, before nodding in approval and handing him to Iroh.

“Oh, isn’t he adorable!” Iroh cooed at the child, before walking over and returning him to Ursa. “What is his name, Ursa?” Iroh asked, causing Ozai to freeze and turn to his wife.

She met his stare head on before smiling and saying, “Zuko. His name is Zuko.” Ozai was boiling with rage at that. Ursa had known he wanted to name the child after either his father or grandfather in hopes of currying favor. The boy may not be a bender but he could still have been good for something. But no, Ursa had to give him a peasant name. Not only that, but one that sounded suspiciously like Roku, whom she had suggested naming the baby after. There was nothing Ozai could do about it now though, as his father nodded his approval at the name. Ozai glared at the bundle of blankets, that child didn’t realize how lucky he was to be born. Yet.

Ozai made an effort to avoid Ursa’s son in the coming year. Only seeing him when required at court, and only interacting with him as far as needed to appear a loving father. Zuko clearly was a waste of Ozai’s time and energy, he was unmannered, loud, distractible, still showing no signs of firebending, and very strange on top of it all. Ozai merely heard about this strangeness secondhand, but it seemed that the child had some sort of primitive imaginary friend who he thought was real. At least Ursa was finally pregnant again, hopefully this child would be born a bit luckier than Zuko. Maybe then Ozai would have an heir worthy of his attention.

(His attention. Maybe even his pride. Never his love. Ozai loved none but himself. Least of all Zuko)

Iroh loved his little nephew. Though he saw Zuko less than he saw Lu Ten between military campaigns, the child was an energetic and imaginative little one. Lu Ten had already fallen in love with his little cousin and Iroh was pleased that the boys would have each other while he was away. Zuko seemed to have the same oddities as well, which alleviated many of Iroh’s fears. The odds of both children being spirit-touched were far lower than that of them both inheriting the same imaginative nature. (Though for the life of him, Iroh had no idea where that came from. His family was only creative in politics and war, not stories of imaginary friends.) Zuko wasn’t yet two and he was already giving the servants the slip, he would make an excellent spy with that kind of stealth. Though, upon further consideration, so would Lu Ten.

Iroh knew that Ozai was displeased with Zuko, and Iroh could only hope that his little brother would begin to make time in his life for his son. Iroh knew that Ozai would come to love Zuko if he simply gave him a chance. Perhaps once Ozai’s second child was born he would step up the parenting. Iroh knew Ursa was nervous about the birth, but Iroh planned to speak to Ozai beforehand so it should go smoother this time. No dangling babies out of windows in attempted filicide.

Lu Ten LOVED Zuko. His little cousin was just SO CUTE! He wanted to play with him, and hug him, and tell him stories, and watch him make funny faces forever. Even better, having Zuko around meant Lu Ten got to hang out with Auntie Ursa more, and she was so nice. Everything had been going really well for Lu Ten recently. His father had only gone on small campaigns and was around more than normal, Lu Ten had started real school and had already made a few friends, even if they weren’t that close, and Lu Ten had the best little cousin in the world! Lu Ten had tried to find out why Zuko had to be his cousin instead of his brother, since Lu Ten had always wanted a little brother, but Father had just tried to explain family trees to him. All Lu Ten had really gotten from that conversation was that he couldn’t tell people that Zuko was his brother, but father hadn’t said anything about not thinking of Zuko as Lu Ten's brother. When Lu Ten had told Vaatu this he had laughed and told Lu Ten that family is chosen and that Zuko can be Lu Ten’s brother if that’s what they both wanted. Zuko was a baby so it was a little hard to ask his opinion, but Lu Ten appreciated Vaatu’s advice. Which actually brings up the only reason that Lu Ten’s life isn’t perfect right now, (besides his father always being gone and his mother being dead) Vaatu was more distracted lately. What if Vaatu was getting bored of Lu Ten? What if he leaves?

“What’s bothering you, little one?” Vaatu asked, interrupting Lu Ten’s spiral.

“Are you going to leave me?” Lu Ten blurted out suddenly.

“What! Of course not. I love you Lu Ten. You know that.” Vaatu responded worriedly. The spirit seemed concerned about why Lu Ten was even thinking about that.

“You’re distracted all the time. Am I getting boring?” Lu Ten asked, starting to tear up slightly.

“No, no, not at all. Lu Ten, do you remember those people like you that I mentioned? The ones who will love you as much as you love them?” Vaatu said in a comforting voice.

“Ye-yeah.” Lu Ten sniffled.

“They’ve been born. I’ve been distracted trying to keep an eye on them. My essence is spread between you, so I can be both here and there. But yes, it does make me a bit distracted. I promise I’m not going anywhere, you’re simply not the only one who needs me anymore, but that doesn’t mean I care about you any less.” Vaatu reassured the little prince. Lu Ten nodded and wiped his eyes. After a moment what Vaatu said seemed to fully sink in.

“They’re born?! Are they like my siblings? Can you tell me who they are? I want to meet them!” Lu Ten was bouncing up and down in excitement, his previous sorrow nearly forgotten. He had wondered about those people for years, and he had been so excited to meet them. Vaatu had always told him to be patient, but now they were here! Lu Ten could forgive Vaatu’s distraction, it was important that his soulmates (Lu Ten read that term in a library book once. The librarian had said that it was a big kid book, and he wouldn’t be able to understand it. She was right, but Lu Ten had asked about what soulmates were anyway and the librarian had pursed her lips and explained that they are people bound together in spirit. That they are made to love each other. It made sense to Lu Ten, and he had taken to calling the people Vaatu talked about his soulmates in his head.) received all the attention they needed from Vaatu.

Vaatu chuckled slightly and said, “In due time Lu Ten. Be patient. All your questions will be answered in due time.” Lu Ten huffed in annoyance but decided he could be patient a little longer. In the meantime, he would just go hang out with Zuko. Maybe someday he could even introduce Zuko to his soulmates.

Agni had a headache. Which wouldn’t be so strange except that he was a spirit, and he hardly had what constituted a physical body to begin with. Still, he had had this headache for about two years now, and it was killing him. One spirit-touched Fire Nation royal had been enough, but no, Agni had to go letting Tui convince him to have a second one. At least Tui and La were finally dealing with magical mortal babies of their own element. Agni hoped that those two were even worse headaches than Lu Ten and Zuko. Oh well, Agni would find out soon. He was heading to meet his sisters and brother to discuss the mortals' progress and maybe to pick a few more to add to the bond. Agni really hopes that La had a headache as bad as his, but if Agni was being honest, the only other person with a headache is probably going to be Vaatu. Oh well, at least they can wallow together.

Almost two years earlier Princess Yue of the Northern Water Tribe took her first breath.

Chapter Text

La was concerned. The dimly lit room in the Northern Watertribe was a flurry of anxious activity, with nurses rushing to and fro, and all of them focusing on the newborn princess. The baby had been born a few minutes ago but she still hadn’t cried. La was reasonably certain that that was something that was supposed to happen when a mortal child was born. Judging by the other mortals' panic, La was correct. The baby was being rushed to a table on the far side of the room and her mother still hadn’t gotten to see her. Vaatu was already rushing to the newborn’s side and Tui was following after him with the same amount of panic. That just left La standing beside Agni, watching the chaos unfold. Agni turned to her, and for a moment the fire and water spirits just looked at one another, before they tuned with unintentional synchronization to look first at Tui, Vaatu, and the baby, before simultaneously taking a few steps toward the little one’s parents. The mother’s breathing was labored, and she was clearly trying to get someone to tell her what was going on, though she seemed too weak to actually speak. La winced, the woman should be under the ministrations of a healer right now, but instead they were all crowded around the baby. La could feel the woman’s (La really needed to learn to pay more attention to names) blood all over the pelts underneath her, and the pool of crimson was only growing. She was going to bleed out, and even if she didn’t, she was almost guaranteed to get an infection. La glanced up at Agni, who met her eyes with a frown. The look on her brother-in-law’s face told La all she needed to know about his hopes for the mother’s survival.

“Vaatu! What are you doing?” Tui’s voice cut through La and Agni’s reverie, turning their attention to their fellow spirits. La could see that Vaatu was lightly touching the baby, he also seemed to be… flickering? He seemed to be fading in and out of focus around the edges of his form, occasionally disappearing and reappearing. Why would- oh, OH. Vaatu was using his own lifeforce to try and save the baby. That probably, no, that definitely wasn’t a good idea. If he overdid it he could not only risk his own life and the baby’s but could destabilize and potentially destroy the bonds. Or leave himself without enough energy to forge new bonds for the remaining three mortals.

“What do you want me to do Tui? We can’t afford to lose her this early in the bond. We don’t know what that would do.” Vaatu responded to Tui’s anger with an air of unshakable calm, which only earned him a glare from the younger spirit. “Don’t give me that look, Tui. I’m being careful. We’ve actually gotten lucky, her spirit is still mostly attached to her body, I’m just keeping it there. I think that if she wasn’t part of the bonds this would be a lot more difficult.” Vaatu was trying to be reassuring, but the slight exhaustion in his voice wasn’t doing him any favors. La heard the underlying message in his words, if the baby hadn’t been born with solid connections to this world, she would not have survived. She still might not. With some apprehension La turned her attention from Vaatu to her wife. Tui was biting her lip with furrowed brows, an expression of anxiety and planning, and not one La normally saw on Tui. No, that expression was far more of an Agni specialty. It was in moments like that that La could clearly see the family resemblance between the celestial twins. Speaking of Agni, he was wearing an identical expression to that of his sister, though his focus seemed to be sliding between the still unmoving form of the baby, and the still bleeding mother. La was almost afraid to look at the woman, she could feel the blood slowly leaving the woman’s body, and she could hear the prayers of the desperate mother in the back of her mind.

“We need to get them to take her to the spirit oasis.” Tui said firmly, having decided on her favorite course of action. “I can heal her if they do.” Those words gave La pause, as she fixed the love of her life with a searching look. Tui wasn’t paying La any mind though, instead watching the healers and baby. La turned to Agni, who seemed as concerned as she was.

“You’re not going to give her any of your life force though, right? Tui, you know how dangerous that would be. Not just for you, but for her and the bond too.” La asked her wife, nervously. Agni was nodding along to La’s words, showing his silent support, as Vaatu kept most of his focus on the mortal child he was meant to help.

“I… I will do my best to avoid it. It probably won’t be necessary with Vaatu here.” Tui answered with a little hesitation, glancing at Vaatu who nodded agreement at her words. La felt both relief and dread at that statement though. What would Tui have done if Vaatu wasn’t here? Would she have given this little one some of her life force? Would it even matter? The energy Tui gave wouldn’t be a large amount, and when the child dies, it would simply return to Tui. Yet, La was always nervous when Tui’s kind nature pushed her to do something so potentially risky. If something happened to Tui’s mortal anchor (why had La allowed Tui to convince her that a mortal anchor was a good idea? Why had she allowed her beloved to put part of her very soul into a FISH? Why didn’t La care that she had done the same?) while another being held some of Tui’s energy, she may not have enough power left to save herself. La honestly didn’t think she could live without Tui. (She didn’t think she could live without Vaatu or Raava either, but she had. She also couldn’t live without Agni, he better never leave her.) It won’t come to that, La tried to reassure herself, taking a steadying breath.

La refocused on Tui as Tui took a breath and spoke. “Agni, La, can you suggest the oasis to the chief? I’ll handle the healers.” Agni nodded and La followed suit a moment later. Agni was walking toward the chief, preparing to whisper quietly in his ear in the way that the sun spirit had perfected, loud enough to be considered, but quiet enough that the mortal perceiving them would think the idea their own. La had no such subtlety, it wasn’t a skill she had ever really practiced (and oh, how she regretted that now, when the Northern Watertribe had grown so sexist, and the Southern Tribe edged closer and closer to extinction) so instead she turned her attention to the chief’s wife.

Carefully La leaned down to the woman’s ear and whispered, “The spirit oasis. Take her to the oasis, the spirits will heal her.” La saw the woman stiffen, and for a moment it seemed that the mortal saw La. That shouldn’t be possible though, unless… she was dying. La sighed, she was now certain that the child would grow up without her mother. La looked up from the woman, who appeared to be gathering her strength, and surveyed the room. Tui was waiting impatiently for the healers to act on her words, while they merely continued to try healing the baby. Vaatu was still holding the baby with a shadowy tendril, and Agni was glaring at the chief in frustration as the mortal in question continued his thoughtful brooding, ignoring both his wife and child. Suddenly there was movement from the bed, as the mother made to get up. She got all the way to her feet, leaning heavily against the icy wall. With some trepidation La reached to help her, not that there was much the ocean spirit could do, still something was better than nothing. With as much precision as La possessed, she took control of the woman’s blood and did her best to stop the bleeding, redirecting the blood to where it would be of more use. La briefly considered using the water in the mortal’s body to help keep her upright but decided against it knowing that would be unnecessary discomfort for the already pained woman.

“We’re taking her to the spirit oasis.” The mother stated, walking toward her child on wobbly legs. The healers froze at her words, and the chief finally seemed to awake from his revelry. It was a bit shocking to see the mother, who had only moments before been struggling for the strength to speak, out of bed and walking. There was a fire in her eyes though now, a determination that La couldn’t help but respect. This was a woman on a mission, one who wouldn’t let even bloodloss keep her from her daughter. La remained beside the woman, and was quickly joined by Agni, who shot her a knowing look and used his own powers to warm the woman as she walked through the icy room. Ah, he must have realized her trick with the blood then. They accompanied the woman as she took her newborn into her arms and began the trek to the spirit oasis. It was only once the mother was out of the door that the rest of the mortals broke through their shock and rushed after her. La didn’t take the time to focus on the scenery, nor on what the chief was saying, instead looking at the pleased but nervous look on Tui’s beautiful face. La had every faith in her wife, there was nothing Tui couldn’t do if she set her mind to it, La only hoped that the mortals moved quickly enough to give Tui’s plan a chance to work. As if hearing her thoughts, the woman (La REALLY needed to learn her name) sped up, finally reaching the wooden door to the oasis. The chief moved to do the first marginally helpful thing he had done all evening, opening the door for his wife and following her inside, unaware that he was followed immediately by not only the healers but also four great spirits. The couple walked to the edge of the pool, watching the koi fish swim in their eternal dance as Tui stepped into the pool. La posted herself in the shallows opposite the mortals, pacing back and forth as she watched Tui give the child her blessing. La was vaguely aware of Agni standing behind her, and she could see Vaatu waiting beside the mortals, watching Tui almost as intently as La herself was.

As La watched, a sickening sense of dread rose up in her very soul. For a moment La thought she saw the moon bathed in an unnatural red, and her fish dancing in solo circles. Then La blinked, and the image faded. Still, La didn’t dare draw new breath until Tui stepped back from the now wailing, suspiciously white-haired, infant. La pulled Tui into her arms as soon as the moon-spirit was in reach, resting her head on the other spirit’s shoulder. La couldn’t, no, La WOULDN’T lose this.

“I’m okay.” Tui whispered to La, and La simply held Tui a little tighter before letting go.

“I know. You did a wonderful job, love.” La whispered back, Tui smiled softly and gave La a gentle kiss, before making her way back around the pool. La watched her go, worry settling in her heart as she swore to herself that she would not let anything harm Tui. La turned away, resolve hardening with that personal oath, only for her eyes to lock with Vaatu. The older spirit fixed La with an unreadable expression, before nodding solemnly. A memory drifted to the surface of La’s mind, so vivid it may as well have been yesterday.

(“I think I love her.” La whispered to Vaatu nervously. She was terrified he would be disgusted, terrified he would hate her, or send her away for daring to think such a thing of his younger sister. Instead, he looked at her appraisingly, his expression quickly changing into something unreadable as he nodded solemnly.

“Okay. Have you told Tui yet?” That was not what La had been expecting Vaatu to say.

“N-no. What if I tell her and she hates me! What if sh-she never wants to see me again! W-what if I have to leave?” La didn’t mean to the voice that last question, her greatest fear. La didn’t know where she would go, and she was terrified to be out alone in the world again.

“Oh, La.” Vaatu pulled her into a sort of side hug. “You won’t have to leave; I won’t let you. I promised I would be here for you, did I not? And I plan to keep that promise. Talk to Tui, even if it goes poorly, you won’t be alone. I promise.” Vaatu responded. At that La finally broke, sobbing into her big brother as he eased her unspoken fears with only a few words. It was comforting to know that at least he would still be there even if she lost Tui. It was nice to know he wouldn’t abandon her like Raava did, like the universe itself did. For the first time since realizing her feelings for Tui, La felt truly comfortable.)

Almost against her will, La felt some of her worry leave her, afterall, Vaatu wouldn’t let something like that happen to Tui, and neither would La or Agni. Besides, who would be dumb enough to try and harm the moon? Fears abated, La began to walk to Tui and the little princess. (La really needed to learn the baby’s name at some point)

Tui was terrified and beyond frustrated. The baby wasn’t breathing, Vaatu was risking his own life to give her the chance to start doing so, and the mortals weren’t listening! Tui had suggested to her fellow spirits that they needed to get the mortals to take the little princess to the spirit oasis; the mortals, however, didn’t seem nearly as receptive to her plans. Tui had done her best to be subtle in her suggestion, but even when she abandoned subtly with the head healer nothing happened. The mortals were ignoring her. (Is this how Agni feels all the time? Maybe I should stop making fun of him so much, this feeling is terrible.) Tui could only hope that Agni and La were having better luck with Chief Arnook.

“We’re taking her to the spirit oasis.” The voice of Lady Ikulliak, the baby’s mother, broke through the quiet chaos of the room. Ikulliak was walking towards the newborn on shaking legs, and carefully took the baby from the arms of the still shocked healers. It seemed to Tui that they had forgotten the poor mother was even in the room. (Tui hated to admit it, but she hadn’t given much thought to the mother either, her focus had been almost entirely on the baby.) Tui watched as Ikulliak walked out of the room with the baby in her arms, Agni and La following her out. Tui herself only remembered that she should also probably be going with them when Vaatu jolted slightly and rushed out the door behind the other two spirits. Tui managed to get out the door ahead of the mortals, many of whom seemed confused about what just happened and were whispering among themselves. Chief Arnook on the other hand, was trying to reason with his wife in a very loud voice, urging her to sit down and let the healers do their job. Tui really wished she could punch him in that moment, well, him and the patriarchal sexist society he represented. (Tui hadn’t noticed how bad the gender divide had gotten in the Northern Tribe until it was too late. Even when she as a great spirit tried to sway the leaders to become more accepting of women taking on typically male roles, or men taking roles usually assigned to women they chose to pretend that it was not one of their patron spirits talking to them. It was frustrating, but she could occasionally get them to change their minds on a case-by-case basis, depending on the current leadership. The most recent few leaders, however, had been particularly disappointing, (though Tui had had bigger fish to fry than gender roles in the Northern Tribe) and had tried to relegate Tui simply to her role as the ocean’s wife. They had failed, but the fact that they tried at all didn’t bode well. Perhaps attempting to dismantle this system should be put a bit higher on Tui’s to-do list.)

Finally, they reached the oasis and rushed inside. Agni and La had fallen behind, taking up posts on the banks of the spirit pool opposite the mortals, while Tui waded into the center, carefully avoiding the fish that swam there. Vaatu was watching her carefully as the silent newborn was lowered into the pool’s waters. Although she was terrified, Tui’s hand remained steady as she gently reached to touch the infant, focusing on willing the baby to take a breath, and after a moment of intense concentration Tui finally heard a loud shriek. Relief and pride coursed through her at that moment, as Tui’s plan proved successful. Tui pulled back as the baby was lifted from the water, but not before wincing at a certain realization (I now see what Agni meant about it being very difficult to not accidentally make them benders. I should probably apologize for making fun of him before he realizes I made the same mistake.) Tui was brought back from her slightly guilty train of thought by Arnook’s voice.

“What shall we name her?” Arnook asked Ikulliak, holding the baby like the most precious thing in the world.

“Yue,” Ikulliak responded, and for a second the woman seemed to meet Tui’s eyes, “after the moon who saved her.” Tui felt her stomach drop at those words. They felt like a heavy weight had been placed on her shoulders, like she was now responsible for this chil- Yue's wellbeing. (Aren’t you? YOU made her a waterbender. YOU forced her to life when she likely wouldn’t have lived on her own. YOU connected her spirit with the spirits of other mortals. YOU chose her destiny. Don’t you at least owe it to her to give her as much help as you can? IS THIS WHAT BEING A PARENT IS LIKE?! IS THIS WHY VAATU and to a lesser extent Agni ARE SO STRESSED ALL THE TIME!) Tui quickly backed away from the happy family, until she felt arms wrap around her. Tui winced; she hadn’t even really considered how nerve wracking this must have been for La as well.

Tui leaned into her wife and softly whispered, “I’m okay.” La squeezed Tui tighter for a moment, before releasing her hold.

“I know. You did a wonderful job, love.” La whispered back. Tui smiled, La always knew what to say to make Tui feel better. Tui pulled back and gave La a kiss before walking back around the pond towards Yue. Tui passed Agni as she walked, avoiding eye contact as best she could. From the slight huff of air he made as she passed him, she knew he was already aware that Yue was a waterbender. (Oh well. Maybe now I won’t apologize. On the principle of never admitting he has something to hold over me. And on the principle of being an insufferable sibling, of course.) As Tui walked, she planned. Tui was certain that she could get La to help teach Yue combative waterbending, and with enough effort Arnook and the council WOULD be convinced to allow Yue to choose her own partner and keep the throne herself. Tui would see to it.

Arnook loved his daughter. Yue was a beautiful baby, and her spirit blessing was a good omen for the tribe. He had to be strong for her. Still, that was hard to do when Ikulliak died only a week after Yue was born. Infection, the healers told him. After that Arnook spent less and less time with Yue, she looked too much like Ikulliak. Maybe it was more than that though. The night Yue was born Arnook received a vision,

(A beautiful, confident young woman held the body of a white koi fish. She was bathed in red light from the blood red moon. As Arnook watched, the girl's hands filled with blood and the moon darkened and went out.)

Arnook didn’t know exactly what that vision meant, but it made him nervous. As such, most of what Arnook knew about Yue came from what he heard from the palace staff. Some of Yue’s nurses thought that she might be a waterbender, Arnook was proud when he heard that. Other nurses had told Arnook that Yue was a very easy baby, who laughed often at seemingly nothing, according to the nurses this meant that she would be a kind soul with a creative mind. Arnook couldn’t wait to see that, and soon, once the pain of Ikulliak’s death passed, he would spend more time with his daughter. Yue was almost two now, after all, and Arnook would be there for her… soon. For now, though, he would protect and watch over her from a distance.

Yagoda wondered about Princess Yue sometimes. She was a happy baby, yet a strange one. She clearly enjoyed the night more than the day, not uncommon, especially if she turns out to be a waterbender, but even during the day she seemed to seek out the shadows. While Yagoda herself didn’t spend much time around the baby princess, some of her high-level students helped work as nurses in the palace as part of their training. They all spoke about some of the princess’ odder traits in hushed voices and some of them made the healer wonder if the spirits were more involved in the girl’s life than was previously believed. On quiet nights after a day of hearing all about the princess Yagoda would think back to the night Yue was born and ponder whether the voice that whispered words of the spirit oasis in her ear was merely her own thoughts, or if it was a meddling spirit. Yagoda never quite figured out the answer, and perhaps it was better that way. Even so, Princess Yue was a sweet child with a bright future, she would be turning two soon afterall. Still, Yagoda wondered if there were any other children in the world with quite the same oddities as Yue, for Yagoda had never seen anything quite like them in the Northern Tribe (except once, when she was still an apprentice herself and a young mother died in childbirth. The infant had been strangely unfussy, crying and quickly stopping, grasping at nothing in the air, staring intently at empty space. It was later discovered that the ghost of the mother had remained the winter with the baby before moving on. Yagoda hoped for the sake of Ikulliak that that was not the case for Yue.) Who knows, maybe there is another old woman out there somewhere, staying up late wondering what is wrong with the child in their care.

Almost two years prior, Sokka of the Southern Watertribe screamed out his first breath.

Chapter Text

Kanna was awoken in the middle of the night the night her grandson was born. Kya had realized her labor had begun and sent Hakoda for Kanna. All through the night Kanna and the other women had helped Kya through her first labor till just before dawn when screams for a newborn could be heard. The child was a healthy baby boy with big blue eyes and a loud voice. He was a cute baby and seemed very likely to survive the cold of winter, a good thing indeed. His little face held so much of Hakoda that Kanna had felt she had seen a ghost when her eyes first met him. This was her first grandchild. Kanna was determined to spoil him rotten and teach him all she could so that he could grow into a strong man just like his father. Speaking of her son, Hakoda was sitting on the bed beside Kya looking at the bundled infant in wonder. Kanna felt immeasurable pride just watching him, she was certain he would make an excellent father. She sighed, missing her late husband in that moment as she knew he would have loved to see this. Still, there was a new life to celebrate and Kanna had no intention of dwelling on past hurts when she was so certain of her grandson's bright future. Deciding that the happy family had had enough time, Kanna posed the question she had been holding in for nine months now, “What are you going to name him?”

The new parents exchanged a look before Kya turned to face Kanna with a smile. “Sokka.” Kanna nodded in support. A good name for a good kid, as Kanna was certain he would become.

Over the next two years Kanna watched Sokka grow into an… energetic child for lack of a better term. He seemed to have a very active imagination and often appeared excited by absolutely nothing. In short, Sokka was quite a bit more of a handful than Hakoda had been at that age and Kanna couldn’t for the life of her figure out where he inherited it from. She had briefly wondered if he was spirit touched, but as he didn’t seem to be developing bending anytime soon, she ruled that out. She hadn’t heard many spirit tales that revolved around a nonbender, especially one of Sokka’s age.

Aside from his active imagination and tendency for wandering off only to be found by one of his parents several hours later, (and oh the stories Kanna could tell about that, but Sokka never seemed to be in danger when that occurred, so the elderly woman decided to leave that particular quirk to the parents) Sokka was an undeniably vocal child. He was loud. VERY loud. When he was an infant, it often seemed like nothing could console his tears until he eventually stopped crying on his own. As a toddler he was much the same, although he seemed to lean more on his imagination now for comfort (and that didn’t concern Kanna at all. No, why would she worry that her two-year-old grandson was already so self-sufficient? Except of course because she had never seen anything like it, and it was a grandmother’s right to worry). But that didn’t mean that he was quiet by any means. No, not at all. While Sokka normally stopped crying on his own quite quickly, his other emotions were just as loud as his upset. His laugh was loud, which was wonderful as Sokka was always a very happy child, but he was beginning to learn to speak, and it seemed that he had yet to master the concept of an inside-voice. All in all, Sokka was a wonderful handful of a child, and Kanna could only speculate why.

Kya’s son was born just before dawn one chilly summer day. The labor had lasted hours, and by the end Kya had been uncertain if she was truly cut out to be a mother, but lo and behold her baby was born. When Kya stared into his big blue eyes, he was the most beautiful thing in the world. She could see parts of Hakoda in his face, and as loud as his screams were, Kya had never heard anything more lovely in her entire life. Kya was partially aware of the other women bustling around the room, and of Hakoda leaning to look at the bundle in her arms, but all her focus was on the little face in front of her. Suddenly, Kanna’s voice pulled Kya out of her revelry, “What are you going to name him?”

Kya froze internally for a moment; she had forgotten that she had to name this little bundle. Kya turned to face Hakoda, who gave her a supportive look. Hakoda had told her that their child’s name was her decision, afterall. Kya looked back down at her baby (her baby!) and considered all the names she had found, before settling on one.

“Sokka” Kya said, smiling down at her newly named son. She felt Hakoda lean into her, and she angled the baby so he could get a better look. Sokka had finally stopped crying, and as Kya watched he fell asleep. Oh spirits, how she loved him already.

Kya loved Sokka, she really did, but sometimes she wasn’t quite sure how she had managed to make it almost two years with him. Sokka was loud. He was very loud. Always. He was a very fussy baby, and at times it seemed impossible for Kya to get him to stop crying. In the early days it was even worse, Sokka would scream for just long enough that Kya would be at her wits end before suddenly stopping for seemingly no reason. That in and of itself probably would have been enough to drive Kya mad if she hadn’t been so exhausted all the time. It’s not as if Kya was without support. No, all the women of the village pitched in to help, and Kanna was an absolute spirit-send, but sometimes all the people in Kya’s hut, telling her how to raise her son, was worse than being alone with a crying baby. Hakoda also tried to help. Key word being tried. Child rearing, especially at the infant stage, was women’s work, and try as he might, Hakoda simply had no idea how to help. That’s not to say he didn’t make an effort, but between his duties as a chief, and his own inability to keep Sokka from crying, he wasn’t as useful as he thought he was.

Sokka was the light of Kya’s life, and she wouldn’t trade him for anything, but goodness knows that he was a difficult child. He was very creative, and very active. Very, very, active. As soon as he could walk, he was making every effort to toddle away from her to go play. The first few times it happened Kya nearly had a heart attack, but it had become routine by now. Now that Sokka was almost two, Kya finally felt like she was getting the hang of this parenting thing. Still, she knew that Sokka wasn’t an exactly ordinary child. Or, that he at least didn’t appear ordinary to the other members of the tribe. Kya was glad for it though, goodness knows how she would have gotten through Sokka’s early days without the extra help. Kya could still remember how she figured it out…

(It was the middle of the night. Kya was exhausted. Hakoda and the other men were on a hunting expedition, and Kya had ushered all the other women out of her hut earlier that evening, needing some alone time. She almost regretted that now. Sokka was still wailing his head off, and it didn’t seem like anything could calm him, no matter what she tried.

“Please just go to sleep. Shhhhh. Please, Sokka, I will do anything, just sleep. Please. I- I don’t know why you’re crying” Kya whispered, her last sentence breaking as Kya tried to hold back tears of exhaustion and frustration. Sokka only screamed louder at that. Kya stared for a moment in shock, she hadn’t thought it was possible for Sokka to get louder, before hurriedly putting him down in his furs.

Kya rushed out of the hut as if chased, collapsing against the icy wall of her home a moment later. She- she just needed a minute, that was all. She just needed a second to remind herself that she was a woman of the tribe, and that she could do this. That she was Sokka’s MOTHER, and she WOULD get him to sleep. She just needed a second to gather her thoughts and remember that she wasn’t just pretending, she did know what she was doing. She- she… she was sobbing quietly, feeling like a failure. Kya had no idea what she was doing, she hadn’t thought it would be this hard, everyone had always told her that her maternal instincts would kick in and she would just know what to do, but THAT HADN’T HAPPENED. Kya was so scared all the time, she was so worried that she wouldn’t be good enough, and even worse, some small part of her feared what everyone would think of her if she wasn’t. Maybe that was why Kya didn’t even consider asking for help when Sokka was crying. Wait… WAS crying?

Kya jerked her head up, fear curling in her chest as she became of the newfound silence of the night. There was an eerie quality to the silence, a feeling of foreboding that set Kya on edge. Kya stumbled as she stood, suddenly becoming aware of the cold of the night air. She bolted back into the hut, just in time to see… something. Kya wasn’t exactly sure what she just witnessed, honestly. It was like shadows had rushed away from her son’s body. Kya felt a shiver run down her spine as she got the distinct feeling of being watched. But there was no one in the room aside from herself and Sokka. Unless… suddenly all of Sokka's strange behavior rushed back to Kya, the way he would reach out as if grabbing at something she couldn’t see, the way he always seemed to gravitate towards dark corners, the way he always seemed to quiet down when there was no one around… (and wouldn’t THAT have been good to remember twenty minutes ago). Was there- was there a spirit in her house?

Moving quickly but carefully, Kya picked Sokka up and held him close to her chest. She fumbled for a moment as she tried to get the lantern to burn a bit brighter, it had begun to go out. Looking around apprehensively, Kya said, “There is a spirit here, isn’t there.”

For a moment nothing happened, but then the light in her lamp seemed to dim, as if covered. Kya’s heart was beating rapidly, but she managed to keep her voice steady as she asked, “Are you going to hurt Sokka? Or- or me?”

Again the lamp dimmed, and Kya decided to take that as a no. If the spirit intended to hurt her, or her baby, they probably wouldn’t have bothered answering at all. Still though, this seemed to be some sort of dark spirit, and Kya had always heard how dangerous those were. And yet… Kya couldn’t deny how helpful this spirit could be. She couldn’t lie and pretend like she couldn’t use the help of this being, that even in her worst moments (about ten minutes ago), had never made her feel judged. Of course, she hadn’t been aware of its presence until now, but even in this moment, if she really focused, the air seemed more… apprehensive. Waiting. Like the spirit wanted to see how she would react before acting themselves. Kya could admit she needed that. And Sokka seemed to like the spirit. Plus, wasn’t the ocean spirit a dark spirit? Kya could hardly say that all dark spirits were bad when one was a patron of her people. Mind made up, Kya said, “I’m not going to make you leave. I- can you make sure Sokka sleeps through the night, tonight? I’m exhausted and, well, you clearly have a way with him.”

Kya held Sokka out and waited with bated breath as shadowy tendrils seemed to guide her baby back into the furs. She hadn’t been sure that would work. Part of Kya had hoped it wouldn’t, had hoped that she was just imagining things. Still, she had decided to trust this being. Shakily, Kya walked to bed. In the morning, she would probably regret this, but for now she could sleep in blissful silence.)

It had been a long time since that night, and Kya could say with certainty that she did not regret trusting the spirit that night. Sure, sometimes Kya felt a bit guilty for not telling anyone, even Hakoda, about the haunting, but honestly, she had figured it out herself, and he could too. Just knowing that there was always someone watching after her child no matter the trouble he got into was a huge weight off her shoulder. When Sokka wandered away she would worry, until she found him somewhere safe every time, and he would babble in his babyish way that she loved and had learned to mostly understand, that the spirit had guided him there when he left her. Kya smiled as the other women of the village praised her for raising such a well-mannered young boy, while Kya knew full well that there was a spirit constantly reminding Sokka to be on his best behavior whenever she wasn’t around (and did she sometimes feel like such an imposter for accepting that praise when she had barely earned it? Yes. Absolutely. Kya sometimes wondered if she could claim any credit for the boy her son was growing to be). Some days the spirit was the sole reason that Kya managed to keep her sanity, especially when Hakoda had to go away for a few days on chief business.

Speaking of, Hakoda would be coming back tonight, and Kya had some exciting news for him. Smiling, Kya reached down to her abdomen, thinking about the new life her little family would soon welcome. Kya pushed back the cloth door of her hut, she hadn’t been out long, and she trusted the spirit could keep Sokka safe for ten minutes while she was gone. When she reentered Sokka was playing on the ground in the corner, he really did have quite the imagination, even ignoring spirit shenanigans. Kya smiled at him for a moment, and when she was sure he wasn’t listening, she spoke.

“You know, I never thanked you. You have done so much for Sokka and I, and I am very grateful. My mother told me once, before she died, that the spirits are always here to guide and help us when we need them, and I don’t know what kind of a spirit you are. You could be my mother for all I know, but I hope you aren’t, because if you were I’d hope you would tell me so. Still, you were here when I needed you. I love Hakoda to death, but you have definitely been the more valuable co-parent. So, thank you. And I hope you’ll be willing to help me with the little one as well.” Kya smiled as she finished her statement, the air around her felt loving, and she couldn’t help but feel that there was nothing about this new baby that she couldn’t handle with the help of her strange little family. She almost had to laugh, if anyone had told Kya before Sokka was born that one day she would be coparenting with a dark spirit she would have laughed in their face. How times change. Hopefully Hakoda figures out about the spirit soon.

Hakoda loved Sokka. He was a creative child, and he always brought so much joy to Hakoda’s life. Hakoda knew that he wasn’t always the best father, the bags under Kya’s eyes told him as much, but he desperately wanted to be. He was ready to step up, he was just uncertain about where the step actually was. Still, he tried. Hakoda played with and encouraged Sokka, he would take him around the village and tell him stories. When Sokka looked up at him with those big blue eyes, like Hakoda was some hero, he felt like he could do anything. From the moment Sokka was born he took over Hakoda’s whole world and made it better, just like Kya did. Hakoda saw so much of Kya in Sokka it took his breath away. Seeing them together, his two favorite people in the world, it was magical.

Hakoda was often busy, busier than he wanted to be, but as chief of the tribe he couldn’t shirk his responsibilities. He often found himself thinking of Sokka when he was working, imagining what it would be like to teach the boy all about being a chief. One day Hakoda would teach Sokka how to fish and hunt, one day he would take his son ice-dodging and celebrate his ascent to manhood with him. For now, though he would just be there for Sokka, and Kya.

Watching Sokka grow sometimes made Hakoda wonder if Kya would still be open to having another baby, especially since Sokka was such a handful. Still, watching Sokka grow up brought Hakoda so much joy, maybe another little one would be a good thing. If Kya agreed of course. There were times when Hakoda was at his wits end with Sokka, especially now that he had begun walking. The boy would likely make a good hunter one day, because for as loud as he was, he had an uncanny aptitude for sneaking away. It terrified Hakoda. Kya never seemed as worried though, and Hakoda supposed he could trust her judgment on this, he didn’t know much about toddlers after all. In spite of everything, the sleepless nights, the fears that something would hurt Sokka, and the feelings of uselessness in the face of the infant, Hakoda loved Sokka. More than anything.

Vaatu tried not to have many expectations when it came to the children he was bound to. They were all wonderful in their own ways and he loved each of them, having too many expectations would only put them under pressure that would hurt them in the long run (Vaatu knew that better than anyone). Vaatu did, however, have expectations of their parents. He didn’t think these were particularly high expectations, but he was still disappointed time and time again. Iroh was mostly absent and only saw the parts of Lu Ten that he wanted to see, Ursa was always hesitant and never did enough to advocate for Zuko or protect him. Of course, they weren’t bad parents necessarily, no, they did love their sons and Vaatu could sympathize with them. Ozai, on the other hand… Well, the less said about Ozai the better, and Arnook was hardly present enough to be called a father. The other parents were doing fine, and Vaatu had very few complaints about them. Vaatu knew that all- most of the parents loved their children in their own way, and Vaatu tried very hard not to play favorites with any of his children the children he was bonded to, but he could admit that he had a favorite parent. Kya, it was Kya.

Kya was the only parent who noticed him. She had accepted him into the family with kind words and she trusted him with her son. She was a wonderful woman and a fantastic mother. She managed to wrangle Sokka and was raising him to be a fine young man one day. Vaatu was grateful that he could help, though he didn’t have to do much but remind Sokka of his manners on occasion and keep the boy from wandering off onto the ice. She had recently told Vaatu that she was having another child, not that Vaatu hadn’t already known, but her heartfelt thank you had meant more to him than he had expected it to. (When was the last time someone had told Vaatu that what he was doing was enough? When was the last time someone had truly thanked him, who wasn’t a small child? When was the last time he felt like he had an equal partner in the rearing of children? (“Vaatu, they’re our siblings, you’re right. We have a responsibility to them. We’ll do this. Together. Order and chaos, balanced. I believe in us!”)) Vaatu found a friend in Kya, even if they never truly spoke. Sometimes she would air questions about Sokka, (“Do you think he would be okay staying with Kanna tonight? He’s been so fussy lately and I don’t want to put that on her, but I need a break.”) and Vaatu would try to answer with a flicker of the lights, or a quiet feeling in the back of her mind. It wasn’t uncommon for Vaatu to consider simply speaking to Kya, but he didn’t trust himself to do so. Great spirits rarely directly interacted with mortals, and he feared what would happen if he broke the fragile balance he and Kya had found (“If you had just kept quiet maybe this wouldn’t have happened! But you always have to ruin things! Don’t you get it, you are all the bad in the world Vaatu! Every time I have a plan to make things better you shut it down! WHY CAN’T YOU JUST STAY OUT OF MY WAY!?).

Vaatu was grateful for Kya, and he loved Sokka. He was certain he would love this new child just as much, especially if he can convince his siblings to allow the baby to be part of the bond.

Raava was restless. Vaatu was far too close for her liking. She was rather certain that her Avatar was somewhere near the South Pole, but what was Vaatu doing there? What if he was trying to open the portals to the spirit world (Why would he do that?)! Raava had to stop him. He was getting in her way once again! He never knew when to stop, never let her clean up the messes his mere presence caused without a fight. Why couldn’t he just rot in his prison and let her fix the world! She was peace and light; she would bring an era of prosperity if he would just stop fighting her. Order, she was order. Not peace. And she had had nearly ten thousand years where he barely fought her, contained as he was, and there was still so much hurting. Raava would do whatever was necessary to make sure this war ended her way. Whatever she had to do. (“We used to be a team Raava. When did that stop? I-I’m sorry, but can’t you see that what your planning will hurt people? Change is good, but we need to think this through. Wait, Raava. Ravva! PLEASE DON’T LEAVE! Please, Raava… you’re my best friend. Don’t- Raava- what are you doing?! WAI-”) (Spirits could bleed… what kind of a monster was she for discovering that?)

Almost two years prior, Suki of Kyoshi Island entered the world.

Chapter Text

There wasn’t a Kyoshi warrior on the whole island who didn’t love Suki. She was the sweetest little thing, and it was already evident that she would grow up to have her mother’s strength. While many of the warriors had worried when Yukari had announced the pregnancy, and even more when her labor had taken almost two days, Suki was a healthy and wonderful baby. Now, was Suki a bit strange? Yes, probably. Her habit of toddling away as fast as her little legs could take her to nowhere in particular and her tendency to to hold full baby talk conversations with either nothing or herself was more than a little odd. Did that matter to the Kyoshi Warriors? Of course not. Suki was their little niece, and any of them would be the first to punch you for daring to call the toddler anything but precious. All the warriors would take turns looking after the girl while her mother was training, working, or even resting. As much as Suki was Yukari’s, she had become something of a communal baby and was beloved despite her quirks. Suki was still young, too young to tell what she would grow out of and who she would grow into, but there wasn’t a Kyoshi Warrior on the whole island who didn’t love Suki anyway.

Yukari hadn’t wanted a baby. Don’t get her wrong, she loves Suki with all her heart and soul more than anything in the world and certainly more than whoever would be so suicidal as to question her devotion to her daughter. But, Yukari hadn’t wanted to be a mother. She hadn’t planned it. Suki had been the product of a one-night-stand with a sailor whose face Yukari was honestly too drunk to properly remember. But Yukari does remember the sinking feeling in her gut when her time of the month came and went without a drop of blood, and she remembers crying into her pillow when the healer told her that she was too far along to do anything but keep the baby. She remembers the shame she felt after she went out to train alone, to train too hard, and she slipped. She remembers how she felt a movement in her belly as she stood, she remembers how she realized that she couldn’t have her child’s blood on her conscience. Yukari remembers trying to prepare herself for the end of her life as she knew it. Yukari also remembers the 36 hours of horrific pain as she tried to bring her baby into the world. She remembers how a baby felt like the end of her world, like all of her dreams would become impossible to reach with a little life tethering her to the earth. Even with all of this, Yukari can’t look at Suki with anything other than adoration. Her little girl has had Yukari wrapped around her finger since the moment she was born.

(“You need to push!” The healer said, trying to make herself heard over the screams. It hardly mattered though, all Yukari could hear were her own screams. All she could process was pain. And fear. There was a good bit of that too. 36 hours. That was how long Yukari had been pushing. Far too long, in her mind. She knew that at this point she might not make it. Her baby might not make it. All of this might be for nothing. The hopeless nights, the pain, the nine months of discomfort. Yukari might have made peace with the end of her life as she knew it, but she wasn’t ready to DIE. She wasn’t ready to be a mother either. To raise a little person and set them up for success. She barely knew how to be a person herself, how could she teach that. And why should teaching it come at the expense of everything she ever wanted? Then suddenly, there was a new sound in the room, and the pain seemed less.

“It’s a girl.” The healer said, handing Yukari her baby. Yukari, sweaty and tired, stared into the tiny pink face of her daughter, HER daughter, and cried. All the hours of pain, for this. It shouldn’t be enough, it shouldn’t be worth it. And maybe it wasn’t, but her little girl was a fighter. She had to be, to be here after 36 hours. People had told her that holding your child in your arms was a life changing experience, and maybe it was. Yukari wasn’t sure yet. She hadn’t wanted this baby. She-she didn’t HAVE to keep it… she could give it to someone who dreamt of this. Someone who wanted this. But somehow, the thought of handing the baby to anyone else made Yukari feel ill. She didn’t want to let this tiny pink human out of her sight. Out of her arms. Yukari may never achieve all her dreams now, not because this baby would hold her down, but rather because she could never reach as far with her arms full. But that wasn’t the baby’s fault. None of this was the baby’s fault. And maybe fault didn’t matter. Maybe none of it mattered. Maybe Yukari could dream up some new dreams, for both herself and her daughter. Around her the other kyoshi warriors who had been with her through the birth were talking, offering encouragement and reassurances, but none of that mattered right now. All that mattered was her baby.

“Hello little one. I’m your mama, and I’m going to take good care of you. I love you so much.” With those words Yukari made herself a promise, she hadn’t planned for a child, but the child hadn’t planned to be born either, and now that she was here, she was Yukari’s responsibility. And Yukari would do everything in her power to give this little one the life she deserved, full of love and joy and opportunity. Yukari would love her more than she had loved anything before. A love with sacrifice, like the one Yukari’s own mother had given to her. Yukari could almost hear her in her mind, telling Yukari that she had had nine months to grieve her old life, and now it was time to pick herself up and celebrate the new one in front of her. Holding her baby, Yukari was reminded that she was holding a real human person, who would grow up and think and feel and BE.

“I can’t believe I made you.” Yukari whispered.

“You did really well, Yukari. She’s so sweet! She looks like she has your eyes.” One of the Kyoshi Warriors, Jade, replied. Yukari looked down at her baby, she did indeed seem to have Yukari’s greyish green eyes. She was precious. Perfect. She could do no wrong. And she was Yukari’s. Wasn’t that terrifying. Yukari owed her a happy life, but first, Yukari owed her daughter a name.

During her pregnancy, Yukari had danced around the topic of names, it felt like it made everything too real. When the labor had started Yukari had panicked, feeling abysmally unprepared for the baby when a day prior she would have done anything not to be pregnant anymore. Around the three hour mark she had started thinking about names, realizing that she really didn’t have one, and that she really needed one. After a day of labor, names had become the least of Yukari’s concerns. But now the baby was here, and she needed a name. Yukari stared into the eyes of her newborn daughter, thinking. Her pretty silver-blue eyes reminded Yukari of the moon, so maybe something like that? But Yukari could also name her after her own mother, or even a name that honors Kyoshi? There were too many options. Should Yukari choose a big important-sounding name for her baby to grow into? Or a smaller name that could grow with her? Something with nickname potential? Something with a lot of meaning? Maybe a descriptor for a personality trait? But she was just a baby, a few minutes old. Too young to have a personality or experiences yet. All she was right now was loved. By Yukari, by the other warriors in the room, and surely soon by everyone she met. Yukari couldn’t imagine anyone not loving her daughter. Maybe something about that then? Suki was a name that means beloved, and it was a nice name. Sensible, sweet. It was similar to Tsuki, which means moon, so Yukari could still make the eye connection with it. Suki. “Suki…”

“Suki? Is that her name?” The healer asked as she packed up her medical supplies.

Yukari glanced up, uncertain, before steeling herself. “Yes, I’m calling her Suki.”

The other warriors started cooing the name at the little girl, and Yukari smiled along, knowing all the while that even though she had only had Suki for a few minutes, if anything were to happen to her Yukari would kill everyone involved and then herself.)

There was nothing in this world that Yukari loved more than Suki. Honestly, Yukari sometimes found it hard to believe that it had only been two years, she couldn’t imagine her life without her daughter in it anymore. All that love aside though, Yukari wasn’t blind. Suki was a strange little one. Calm, quiet, easy. TOO easy. Strangely enough, no one had prepared Yukari for a baby that seemed like she would do just fine without her. Of course, Suki had all the normal baby needs, but most of the time she was perfectly happy to babble to herself in her crib, almost uncaring about her mother’s presence. It… worried Yukari. The first time one of the other warriors had looked after Suki so Yukari could train, Yukari had been nervously hoping that Suki was okay and hadn’t been too much trouble. But no, when Yukari returned it was to find that Suki had acted just the same around the warriors as she did her mother; easy. Somehow, this didn’t make Yukari feel as good as it should have. When Suki started crawling and eventually walking, she became a bit more of a troublemaker. She would toddle away as fast as her little legs would carry her somewhere random. Often a corner, or someplace random within eyesight. Then she would start babbling to herself in the cutest fashion. It was as adorable as it was concerning.

(“Suki! Where are you going?” Yukari shouted after her daughter as the little girl toddled out of her grip and approached the stairs. “No! Suki, stay away from the stairs!”

Suki didn’t appear to be listening, instead she kept crawling until she reached the bottom of the stairs. Yukari rushed over to catch Suki before she started climbing (what if she slipped!) but Yukari didn’t need to. As soon as Suki began reaching for the stairs she paused, making some babytalk noises before just sitting down. She was looking at something on the stairs and seemed upset that she couldn’t(?) get to it. But she had stopped, and that was enough for Yukari.

(“Suki, don’t climb the stairs.” Suki sat down, listening to Vaatu but clearly unhappy about it.

“Geeze, why’s she so upset?” La asked from her position on the stairs, watching.

“Maybe because you are currently out of her reach and she would rather you be within grabbing range.” Vaatu suggested dryly. La rolled her eyes, but she did move closer to Suki, making the child brighten up as her mother reached to scoop her up.)

Yukari worried about this behavior, this was hardly the first time Suki had done this, and Yukari knew it wasn’t normal. She hadn’t done this as a baby, she was sure. Yukari was frightened and frustrated. Suki didn’t seem to listen to her, taking her cues instead from some invisible force. Most people said that Yukari had a very smart baby, which she absolutely did, but this felt… off. Yukari sighed, picking up Suki, as the toddler giggled at something only she was privy to.)

Yukari had taken Suki to the healer, but nothing was wrong with her. Most likely she just had an active imagination and not enough contact with children her own age. Suki was two, and soon Yukari would feel a bit better about sending her to spend more time with other children. There were a few other girls Suki’s age in the village, and while Yukari had always felt hesitant to leave Suki for too long, often choosing to bring her to training or entrusting her to another warrior instead of someone else in the village, Yukari knew Suki needed friends. Yukari wanted Suki to have a good life, with as little hardship as possible. Was she shelterning her daughter? Yes. Should she try to let go? Probably, but Yukari had never been good at letting go. Everything Yukari had ever lost was pried from her hands, often by the force of her own mistakes. But Yukari would learn to let go if that was what was best for Suki. Hopefully a couple strong friendships with children her own age would stop Suki’s concerning behavior. And even if it didn’t, Yukari would love her girl either way.

There was another storm on the ocean tonight, and another foolish ship trying to cross through it. If that wasn’t a metaphor for something, La didn't know what was. Sighing, La started trying to direct the ship to safety, her thoughts wandering to the six children out in the world who could see her. Now, La had absolutely no intention of getting in any way attached to these mortal kids. Frustratingly, however, she seems to be the only one of that mindset. Unsurprisingly, Vaatu adores the kids. His kids. His little semi-avatars. It made sense for him, he’d always had a habit of picking up strays.

(She was alone. But that was nothing new, she had always been alone. Yet, it felt more prominent when she was alone in a world, surrounded by life, instead of being the only living thing. She could feel the pull beneath her skin more prominently here, her connection. La didn’t have much. She had her name, and she had the ocean, she just had to find it. Somewhere. So she would keep going through this strange land, and eventually she would find someone willing to help her. It’s not as if she hadn’t run into anyone, she had met a few other beings on her travels. It had been shocking at first, La hadn’t really known if her dreams of other creatures existing were true or not until she saw them. Of course, they hadn’t been willing to talk to her. They just seemed confused by her existence instead. She’d been called a few names as she walked, someone said she looked like a “fish” whatever that was, someone else said she looked like “one of those hoo-mansie designs” strangely enough, and a couple of beings had said she looked like “the great spirits” and “a dark spirit”. Honestly, La didn’t really know what any of it meant. It wasn’t helpful, that was for sure. La knew she had to find the ocean because she was the ocean spirit, beyond that she had no clue. She wasn’t even fully sure what the ocean WAS. But she needed to find it soon, she was getting hungry and tired, and she didn’t know how much farther she could make it.

Not much farther, it turned out, since barely an hour later La collapsed. She knew she had to get up, keep going, but was it really worth the effort? What did she have to live for? To fight for? She was alone, and she always would be.

“Are you alright?” A deep voice sounded from above La. She turned her head weakly to face the figure, and saw a black and red being, not dissimilar from herself. They were watching her with obvious concern, but La struggled to find the strength to answer. Frowning, the figure spoke again, “I’m going to help you up. Do you have anywhere to go?”

Hesitantly, La shook her head as the figure helped lift her from the ground. The figure seemed even more worried at that, saying, “No? You can come home with me then. I’ll get you fixed up, a young spirit like you shouldn’t be wandering the wilds by themselves.”

La nodded, her head spinning at the action, causing her to stumble and causing the figure to lift her off the ground. “Whoa, careful. You can rest, it’s not a long walk, I’ll wake you when we get there, okay.”

So La allowed herself to feel safe, to fall asleep. She woke sometime later to yelling.

“Did you kidnap a child!”

“What?! Raava no! Of course not, I found her wandering by herself. I couldn’t just leave her there.” That voice belonged to the kind stranger, sounding rather taken aback but overall calm and firm.

“Vaatu… ” That was the first voice, so it must be Raava, who sounded maybe… somewhere between amused and exasperated? La wasn’t sure, she hadn’t interacted with people before, so she may be misreading the whole situation.

“Look at her, she’s clearly a great spirit. You know as well as I do that she doesn’t have anyone else.”

“I don’t know if she is a great spirit, and if she’s not, then someone is probably looking for her. I mean, there are some similarities, but Agni and Tui looked much more like us. She doesn’t.”

“They looked like you, Raava. This one is clearly a dark spirit.” There was a silence of unspoken words after the stranger (Vaatu?) said that. “Sister, what did you expect me to do? She needs us.”

“I just- I don’t know. We already have Agni and Tui, adding another isn’t so simple. And I’m still not sold on being related to this one.”

“We may not be related, but she is a child great spirit in need. We are the only ones who know what that’s like. Don’t tell me you forgot what it was like to be the first ones, to be kids with nothing and no one-” Vaatu’s voice carried a sort of resigned sadness, before Raava’s own hurt voice cut him off.

“Fine! Keep her. If she wants to stay. If you’re so sure we can do this?”

“I don’t know. But I do know that we’ll try, together.”

“I’ll tell the little ones, you go get her something to eat. She looks like she could use it.”

“Thank you.” There were footsteps as Raava presumably left, then La felt Vaatu take her somewhere and set her down. “Hey, wake up.”

La opened her eyes, pretending that she hadn’t heard the whole conversation. She felt a bit better after the nap, but she was still weak. Vaatu moved to the other side of the room, picking up some type of… fruit? “Do you want me to cut this for you, or are you happy just biting into it?”

“Um… cut?” La said, confused. She didn’t know which she would prefer. She watched as Vaatu cut the fruit into slices and set them down in front of her. Hesitantly she picked one up and began to eat. Immediately La’s eyes widened, she had never really tasted ANYTHING before, but she was certain that she had just tasted the BEST THING.

“My name is Vaatu. I’m the spirit of darkness and chaos. Who are you, little one?” Vaatu asked, a small smile playing on his face as he watched La devour the fruit. “Hey, slow down, you’re going to get sick if you eat that fast.”

Slowing down, La answered, “I’m La, the ocean spirit.”

“The ocean is a pretty big domain for someone so small.” Vaatu said teasingly, as La puffed up in offense.

“I’m not small!”

“You’re smaller than me. Don’t worry, I’m sure you will grow soon. But I have to ask, where were you going?” Vaatu’s question was sincere, but it still made La uncomfortable. No one had ever looked at her like she mattered. No one had even really looked at her, but he looked at her like her answer mattered.

“The ocean, I just don’t know where it is.”

“I’m sure I could help you get there, but I wanted to ask if you would like to stay with me.” Vaatu’s question was earnest, and La’s lack of immediate response made him hurry to continue talking, “It wouldn’t just be with me. My twin sister Raava, who’ll you’ll meet soon, you’ll love her I’m sure, everyone does. Agni and Tui, they’re your age, maybe the three of you could be friends?”

La would like friends, and he seemed kind, and Raava didn’t seem so bad either… “Okay.”

Vaatu’s smile made something in La feel warm, safe. Children may be instinctively afraid of the dark, but Vaatu’s presence felt more like a quiet night than the shadows under the bed. And besides, La was a dark spirit too. She was happy, and she had found a home. She had found a family. She had never imagined when Raava had introduced herself that La one day would hate her. She never thought that she would have to learn to live without Vaatu. La didn’t expect to fall in love with Tui, or to see Agni as an annoying brother. La never expected any of that. And now she was terrified she’d lose all of it.)

Agni was a fiery ball of burning gas thousands of miles from the Earth as much as he was a vibrating ball of constant anxiety, so his latching on to the mortals somewhat made sense. He was terrified of what would happen if they died, of course he’d care about them to some extent. Tui had always been a kind and empathetic soul, so it should have come as no surprise to La when her wife began to protectively watch over the mortals, especially the WaterTribe Princess (Yue, her name is Yue. La needs to remember that). But La found it rather difficult to muster up too much investment in these mortals.

Don’t get La wrong, she liked them well enough. If any of them came to her with a complaint that she could use as an excuse to drown someone, she would happily do so. She understood that they had a responsibility to these kids, so of course if they needed anything she was there. But, not in the same way as the others. Vaatu was acting father figure for all these kids, Agni’s never ending headache was caused by him playing spirit babysitter for the FireNation kids, And La had heard Tui repeatedly refer to herself as “Auntie Tui”. La… just wasn’t sure if she could handle that kind of emotional commitment. These were mortals they were talking about. They would DIE. La really couldn't handle losing more family. So she kept her distance as best she could.

With more kids in the bond, Vaatu was pretty spread thin, and while he was scarily adept at being in two places at once, being in six was a bit more taxing. Agni had taken up keeping an eye on Lu Ten and… Zu-something… Zuko(!) when he had spare time. Same as Tui, who was Tui watching over Yue when she wasn’t needed elsewhere, and La had been keeping an eye on Somba… that’s not right. SOKKA and the kyoshi girl, (La can do this…) Suki. Neither needed much attention most of the time. They both had loving mothers AND Vaatu for spirits’ sake. But La hung out with them anyway when she wasn’t needed doing her job as a great spirit. She didn’t do much with the kids, mostly just observed and sometimes talked with Vaatu, pointing out weak spots in the ice or alerting him of the Unagi. Vaatu was doing a good job by himself. But still, La didn’t really mind being there. Of course, she still visited and watched the other kids, she just spent a bit more time with Sokka and Suki… especially Suki. La could admit she had a favorite, unlike Tui who blatantly had one (Yue) but wouldn’t admit it, or Agni who was too stressed to pick a favorite, or Vaatu who was too genuinely attached to all the kids to choose. La liked Suki best. She had the makings of a good warrior, and La could appreciate that. But who knows, maybe one of the new kids would be La’s new favorite. On that note, she was running late for the meeting to pick the new kids.

Sighing, La decided to just let the storm drown that ship, she needed to get to the meeting. Besides, the world could do with a few less… honestly she didn’t even know what sort of ship that was aside from being military. She knew that it was her own fault for getting so caught up in her thoughts that she barely helped the ship, but she was already late. What did it matter really, it was just another foolish ship in a storm, and they were only mortals.

“They’re only mortals, La. Don’t go breaking your own heart.” La whispered.

Nearly two years earlier, Jet took his first breath.

Chapter Text

The village of Bowen was idyllic. Small but happy. The kind of place where everyone knew everyone and generations lived together in harmony. And everyone liked it that way. Everyone was friendly, if not friends. According to the people of Bowen, there was truly no better place to live.

Jae and Faith’s family was very similar to the village. Small, idyllic, and beloved. Jae and Faith themselves had always fit perfectly into Bowen. Jae’s family had lived there for as long as anyone could remember, and the boy had always been sweet and hardworking. And Faith, well, Faith had taken to the community like a turtleduck to water. She was beloved before her family had even finished unpacking. She was always the first to bring food to the ill or grieving, and she was always happy to help the elders of the village or look after the village children. They were the kind of couple that everyone could root for, even if some of their agemates were disappointed when the village heartthrobs married each other, instead of one of them. The villagers had smiled with joy when Jae and Faith had announced that they were having a child. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that Jae and Faith’s child would be loved and well cared for.

And then Jet was born. He was an… odd little boy. Some of the more superstitious village elders seemed to think that the boy might be spirit touched, though he had shown no sign of bending. But the child didn’t act quite like the other village children, no matter how much his parents wished to deny it. Spirit touched or not, the village had little room to speculate, Jet was only two after all. He had his whole life to work himself out, and the village had plenty of time to watch.

In a place as old as Bowen, the people had learned to trust that time would solve all problems. And Bowen had never been short on time.

Faith had always known that she would have children one day. It was the only kind of quiet retaliation against the fire nation she could have. The same one her mother had had, and her mother before her. The knowledge that some part of the history and culture of her people would be preserved, even if it was only a speck of what had once been.

When Faith met Jae, she knew she would marry him. Her family had moved to Bowen when she was a teenager, after her mother got sick. Faith’s father had family in the village, so they had moved in hopes that more support would help her mother recover. It hadn’t, really, but Faith had loved Bowen even so. Especially when she met Jae. He had had such bravado when they first met, trying to impress her. Then he had tripped over his own feet and fallen in a puddle, and suddenly he couldn’t get two words out around her. Not that that was a bad thing, Faith’s own face turned red as a tomato whenever Jae was around. Lucky for them that they had grown out of that awkwardness. They had gotten married, their life had been well on its way to perfect.

And then it was.

Jet had been born, and he was perfect. He had a full head of bushy hair, Jae’s nose and mouth, and his dark brown eyes. Faith had hoped that her children would have her grey eyes, (her mother’s grey eyes, her grandmother’s grey eyes, her people’s grey eyes) but looking at Jet’s tiny face, she found she didn’t care. It was likely safer for him anyway, with eyes like that. He had ten tiny toes, ten little fingers, and he was perfect. Jae had said so too, when Jet was born, when he had asked Faith what she wanted to call him. And Faith had known. Jet.

In her life Faith had rarely been anything less than certain. Truly, she had always made up her mind and stuck to it, no matter her doubts. That is how she had lived her life, and how she had always planned to live it. Her plan had been simple; learn all she could about her culture from her mother, safeguard it. Fall in love, get married. Have children, pass her knowledge down. Live happily ever after. Simple. More complicated in practice, sure, but achievable. Jae had never made Faith’s plan difficult, he was always exactly what she needed, even if he wasn’t always what she wanted. And Faith had always put her all into being prepared. She had volunteered to watch the children of the village for years, and by the time she was pregnant with Jet she was certain that there was nothing he could throw at her that she wasn’t ready for. She had seen it all, boys, girls, easy criers, easy laughers, quiet children, loud children, high energy, and barely any. Faith was ready. Faith was certain.

Until she wasn’t.

(“Jet, little one? Where are you?” Faith called into the seemingly empty nursery. She had only stepped out for a moment, yet Jet was no longer on the floor in the middle of the room where she had left him. Nervousness began to creep unbidden into Faith, as she walked slowly into the room. “Baby, where are you?”

It was late evening, the sunlight fell through the open window to bathe the room in an orange glow and fill it with long shadows. The lighting only served to add to Faith’s unease, especially as no response met her calls. It’s okay, Faith, she reassured herself, there’s no where he could go. But even still Faith was feeling uncertain. “Deep breath, Faith. You know what you’re doing."

Pushing down the uncertainty Faith moved further into the room. Jet was still nowhere to be seen, but Faith refused to allow her certainty to waver any more, it would only lead to panic and it wouldn’t help anything. Carefully faith began looking around the room, but Jet remained out of sight. “Jet, come out for mommy.”

Normally Faith would have expected to hear giggles from somewhere, leading her to the location of her son, but now all there was was an eerie silence. Faith stood in the center of the room, turning in a full circle to locate the toddler. Still nothing. Suddenly Faith saw something out of the corner of her eye, almost like a shadow moving. She whirled around, and walked over to the bureau where she had seen the movement. And there, seemingly asleep wedged between the furniture and the wall, was Jet. Faith sighed in relief and reached down to pick him up.

The movement jostled the boy and he opened his eyes, turning to look at Faith. “Hi, bab-

“Noooo,” Jet started blubbering in a babytalk manner, reaching back to the dark corner where he had been as fat tears started to well up in his eyes, “Wan Watoo! Watoooo!”

Faith froze, looking at her squirming baby as he reached into the corner. Suddenly she jolted into action, pulling Jet away and setting him down in his crib. Jet was really starting to get into his tantrum now, but Faith was more focused on checking that corner. If some animal had crawled into her house, and had gotten close to her baby, she needed to know. Only… there wasn’t anything there.

Uncertainty gripped Faith’s heart as she turned back to Jet, who had… stopped his crying. The crib was in direct light from the window, and the toddler seemed to be reaching out to try and grab the fading sun rays. Faith tried to push down her worries, tried to tell herself that she knew what she was doing. Tried to remember that she had a plan. But it wasn’t helping. Unbidden, memories flooded Faith’s mind; all the times something like this had happened, every time Jet acted oddly. Because as much as Faith didn’t want to admit it, she couldn’t deny it. Jet was an odd child, in a way she had never expected.

He played with nothing, he was utterly convinced of imaginary friends, which wouldn’t be a problem, but it led to situations like this. Watoo. Faith hadn’t heard that before, but then again, maybe she had. She didn’t always pay much attention when Jet was playing by himself. Maybe she should have.

There was nothing Faith hated more than not knowing what to do. She had always had a plan, but it seemed that the joke was on her, and life had thrown her something she couldn’t plan for. Which… she should have expected. Raising kids is always harder than you expect, Faith had just thought that she had already planned for every difficulty. Yet here was something that Faith couldn’t make heads nor tails of. She might have thought Jet spirit touched, but… but what? Why couldn’t that be the case?

Jet hadn’t ever shown signs of bending, but he was only two. Jae may not have any earthbenders in his family, and Faith certainly didn’t, and of course if Jet WAS an airbender that would have presented already. Yet, Jet was one of the last of the Air Nation. It was in his blood. And Faith knew her people were said to have had great spiritual connections. Maybe Jet was destined for greatness. If HE wasn’t an airbender, maybe he was meant to help one. Maybe he was meant to help the AVATAR. (She refused to entertain the thought that her son might BE the avatar, for the sake of her own sanity).

“Well, little one. It seems like I might have to start teaching you sooner than expected.”)

Faith may have lost some of her certainty, but she could always fall back on her name. She didn’t have to know, to believe. And she could plan without knowing. After all, Jet wasn’t even two yet, Faith had years to teach him all she knew.

“Mama!” Jet babbled from the floor near her feet, trying to use her skirt to help him stand. Faith smiled as she watched him. This, this is what Faith had been preparing for. Well, this and the box tucked carefully under her bed, full of memories. But at the moment Faith could make new ones.

She had all the time in the world. Faith was certain of that.

Jae was happy. He had a beautiful wife, a wonderful son, and an idyllic village. He was a happy man with a happy life.

And then Faith told him that his son may be the avatar. (Okay, technically she said that Jet is likely spirit touched, and fated to be the avatar’s companion, but really there was little difference in Jae’s mind.)

He was not equipped to handle raising the savior of the world. That’s not to say that he wouldn’t try, of course he would, he loved Jet with his whole heart, regardless of his ability to prepare his boy for the horrors of war. Jae really wasn’t sure what he should do to help Jet succeed. Faith obviously had a plan, she always did, but Faith’s plan didn’t seem to include Jae this time. So Jae would just figure it out himself. Maybe he should start looking into good bending schools for when Jet gets older? But is that all? Is that all that Jae can do to help his kid?

Now, Jae wouldn’t normally believe that his child is the reincarnation of the most powerful bender in the world, but he had to admit it made sense. Jet was a little strange, and while his behavior could be explained away with his age, that had never quite sat right with Jae. Sadly, the avatar explanation made a lot of sense. And Faith was the one who suggested it. Jae knew his wife wouldn’t have told him if she wasn’t very certain she was right. So he had no choice but to believe.

Jae was an honest man. He would do all he could to do right by his family, but he was at a bit of a loss here. It had been a few weeks since Faith had told him about her suspicions but time hadn’t given Jae any clarity. He sort of wished she hadn’t told him, if only so that Jae wouldn’t have to consider the implications. How many people had died for Jet to be here? If the air avatar died with his people then that was at least one child. The water avatar may have lived to adulthood, assuming that Jet was the new earth avatar. But he might not be. He could be the new air avatar, and that would mean that three more people died on top of the young airbending avatar. And if that was true, then it is likely that those avatars died young. Who knows if they were even aware of what they were. And what did being the avatar mean for Jet? What would he have to face?

When Jae first found out he felt like he had to do something. So he had done the only thing he could think of as a nonbender in a tiny village who knew nothing about politics. He sat his toddler down for a talk, man to man.

(Jae took a deep breath, sitting down on the floor across from Jet, who was staring at him curiously. “Son, I think we need to have an important talk.”

Jet just stared at his father, leaving Jae to wonder if Jet would understand a word of what he was about to say. Well, it may be for the best if he doesn’t remember, Jae thought, this could be good practice for the day that Jae would have to give Jet this talk again. When he started bending other elements, or when he asked about spirits. Speaking of spirits, that may be a good place to start. “Your friend, the one you play with. What’s their name?”>

Jet looked at him for a moment, before smiling and saying, “Watoo!”

Jae smiled, and nodded encouragingly at Jet, but inside his mind was racing. Watoo? That could be a watertribe name, or the name of a spirit. Or it could be a mispronunciation. That was probably more likely. “Well, I look forward to hearing all about them someday. But right now I want you to know that I love you. And I’m proud of you. And I know I can’t be enough for you. I can’t prepare you for what you will face. And I can’t protect you from it. But I’ll be here. Always. And you can always talk to me. About anything.”

Jet was clearly losing focus, and Jae was running out of things to say. He had so much he wanted to convey, but none of the words to do so. Oh well, he had years to tell, and show, Jet how much he cared. “I wish I could save you from the world Jet, but I can’t. I will do everything in my power to try though.”)

The talk hadn’t exactly gone anywhere, but it had made Jae feel a bit better. He would just take things one day at a time with Jet. Jae had known that parenting would be hard, but he had wanted it. Jae had been so excited to be a dad, but now he was afraid. Afraid that he could never be a good enough father for his son… his son who was the avatar. What even is Jae’s life?

In the end, all that Jae had to offer Jet was all he had ever had. Love, wisdom, and someone who would be unconditionally on his side. Jae was a simple man, but he would do his best to raise his son to be a better man than he was. Jae would teach Jet about the horrors of the world, but keep him safe until he had to face those horrors. Selfishly, Jae wished that he could keep Jet safe forever. But since his boy was the avatar, he knew that was impossible.

Jae knew that most avatars came into their powers at 16, so Jae had 14 years to be there for his son, before he had to let go.

Vaatu was tired. Happy, of course, but tired. His kids were wonderful, and of course he loved them, but they were also six small children. And there were complications with every kid. Lu Ten was getting older which was a challenge in and of itself. Ozai clearly wanted Zuko dead, and Vaatu had spent a lot of time keeping the two apart. Yue was obviously spirit touched on top of being a princess, leaving her even more isolated from other children. Sokka had very little self preservation skills, but at least he had Kya, even if that was in itself a complication. Suki was always watched by someone, which was good, but made things difficult since no one else could see Vaatu. And Jet’s parents were certain he was the avatar. Frankly, Vaatu just didn’t know what to do with that.

Jet was complicated to begin with. He wasn’t an airbender, yet he was at the same time. He clearly wasn’t airbending, but it was obvious he had the potential for it, and Vaatu had no clue what to do with that information. For now he simply wasn’t going to tell Jet. Not before the kids bonded and Vaatu didn’t need to worry about hatred festering between them. Speaking of bonding the kids, Vaatu had a meeting to get to.

Vaatu was the second to arrive at the meeting, only Tui having beaten him there. Her somewhat manic grin did not bode well for this meeting or Vaatu’s, and likely Agni’s, sanity. The two didn’t have to wait long for Agni to arrive, though he appeared tired and disheveled. Vaatu wanted to ask about that. He wanted to pull Agni into a hug and tell him to rest like he would any of his kids. But Vaatu couldn’t do that, because Agni wasn’t his, and because Agni was an adult who could care for himself.

“Just waiting on La then?” Agni asked, looking to Tui for an answer.

“Oh! Yes, she’s just running a bit late.” Tui responded, Agni’s words snapping her out of her scheming.

Vaatu just sighed, allowing his own focus to drift. Lu Ten and Zuko were sleeping, and so it seemed, was Jet. Sokka was awake and with Kya, Yue was awake and with her nanny, Suki was awake and watching her mother train. The little girl moved to get up and wander away from the adults, but Vaatu directed some of his power to gently push her back onto the floor. Luckily for the spirit, Suki seemed content not to try to leave again.

Vaatu was good at being in multiple places at once, but for events like this, with the other great spirits and so much on the line, he preferred not to multitask.

“Sorry I’m late!” La shouted as she finally arrived, turning everyone’s attention to her. She smiled sheepishly at everyone before walking over to Tui and giving her wife a quick kiss on the cheek.

Vaatu cleared his throat slightly before speaking, “Now that we’re all here, it’s time we choose the last three people for the bond. Does anyone have any suggestions or should I start?”

Tui broke into an even bigger grin at that, and was about to speak before Agni cut her off, “Does that mean that you have a suggestion, Vaatu? I’m sure we can all agree to add whoever it is you want, especially since you’re the one who’ll have to look after them the most.”

Vaatu smiled slightly at his little brother’s words, Agni always had been the most observant. “Yes, I think we should add Sokka’s soon to be sibling. The more children in close proximity the easier. That way I’m not spread as thin.”

There were nods of agreement, though Agni had a twinkle in his eyes that indicated that he was aware of Vaatu’s ulterior motives. Oh well, who could really blame him. Vaatu had every right to want to help Kya as much as possible. It wasn’t like it affected how he treated the children.

Tui clapped her hands suddenly, saying, “Okay, if that’s the only suggestion, I have good options for both earth and fire!”

Vaatu nodded for Tui to continue, though he chanced a glance over at Agni, who had gone concerningly still. Tui didn’t seem to notice the impending danger from her twin, however, as she continued speaking, “For fire I think that the best option is Lady Ursa’s second chil-”

Tui did not get to finish her sentence before Agni let out a scream of frustration. Causing Tui to giggle. Causing Agni to punch her. Vaatu watched in unsurprised silence as the two great spirits of the sun and moon began rolling on the ground and fighting like children.

“Get him, babe!” La cheered.

“La! Do not encourage them.” Vaatu said, elbowing the ocean spirit slightly.

La looked at Vaatu incredulously, “It’s not like you’re stopping them!”

Vaatu decided not to dignify that with a response, instead turning his attention back to his younger siblings. He would stop them eventually, he was just waiting for… that!

“Ow!” Tui yelped as Agni finally landed a good slap across Tui’s face.

“Break it up! Come on you two, we have work to do!” Vaatu finally called, crossing the space to yank Agni to his feet and pull him away from Tui. Both were breathing heavily, and Tui had a slight mark developing on her cheek where Agni had hit her. Agni’s hair had begun to come undone and he had a scratch across his eye. Vaatu winced at that, Agni was lucky he was a spirit and therefore immune to real injury he was lucky that it took more than frustration to draw blood or else his eye may not have been so lucky. Maybe Vaatu would step in sooner next time. Fully grown, the two celestial spirits were capable of doing more damage than Vatu remembered.

(“Give it back!” Agni shouted, stomping up to Tui who was playing with the doll Raava had made for Agni a few moons ago. Vaatu sighed, Agni was typically rather slow to anger, but when he lost his temper he was not to be trifled with.

“I’m being careful. Just let me play with her! I need her to play ‘escape the lionturtle’.” Tui needled, hoping that Agni would relent or even offer to join in. Vaatu just shook his head, there was no way that Agni was giving up now that he had voiced what he wanted. Usually this wouldn’t be much of a problem, but usually La wasn’t accompanying Raava on a visit to the air spirits. When it was all three of them, the kids tended to get along, or at least fight over toys less.

“No! HE is my doll! Use a rock or something if you need another object so bad!” Agni fired back. Vaatu smiled slightly, ever the problem solver, Agni tried to offer a solution first. If Tui would relent now then this could end rather amicably.

“No!” … But when was Vaatu ever that lucky?

Agni leapt at Tui, trying to grab the doll from her hands. Tui shoved Agni to the ground, and Vaatu watched on with a critical eye as the two wrestled for control of the toy. If Raava were here she would have separated them already, encouraged them to calm down, and probably tried to make an arrangement for shared custody of the toy. That was where Vaatu and Raava differed. Vaatu was waiting for them to get a good hit in, especially Agni since he was the one wronged. Well, technically wronged. It’s a subjective term, and Tui knew better than to take Agni’s things without permission. Vaatu felt that if he stopped the fight too early no resolution would stick. Both spirits would still be angry. And they would be more likely to fight in future. So instead Vaatu waited, ready to play damage control and keep things from getting out of hand, and when he decided the two had had enough, Vaatu would step in. (Maybe it was this difference that caused the rift between the siblings. Maybe this difference was the reason that Raava was the hero and Vaatu the villain. Because what kind of monster wouldn’t stop a fight when it starts. What kind of monster let people die when they could stop it, whatever reason they had.)

“Don’t squish him!” Agni shouted, horrified as Tui rolled on top of the doll. Vaatu was suddenly very glad that the doll was only made of straw, otherwise there would certainly be a lot more tears.

“I was playing with him first!” Tui said, rolling off the doll.

“He’s mine!” Agni yelled, his hair beginning to flicker like a flame at the edges.

Vaatu took a few steps closer, just to be safe. Agni had only burned Tui once, and that had been an accident, but it had still injured her. Vaatu remembered how much Tui and Agni had cried at that, both shocked to learn that they could be hurt beyond minor cosmetic injuries. Vaatu hadn’t even known that a spirit could get a second degree burn before that day. While he had had a few bad injuries, he had been under the impression that spirits couldn’t harm one another, especially not balanced spirits like Agni and Tui, or Raava and himself. (Oh how wrong he had been. Spirits could use their powers to hurt. To draw blood. To leave each other choking for breath through the red in their lungs as he writhed alone on the cold ground of the spirit realm, begging for help. Begging the one who hurt him to come back because he was nothing without-)

In all likelihood Vaatu wouldn’t need to step in because of possible burns. Agni had better control than that. Vaatu knew that Agni often wondered why he was a fire spirit, feeling like he didn’t fit the title with his quiet demeanor. But personally Vaatu thought that that was exactly why Agni was the spirit of fire. If someone with a quick temper like La had the title, the world would be ashes already. But Agni was careful, he knew the harm he could cause and he cared enough to prevent it. Vaatu had told Agni as much, but the young spirit didn’t seem to see it. Vaatu hoped he would one day. But for now the sun spirit appeared to be winning.

“Ow!” Tui finally shouted, relinquishing the doll to cradle her arm where Agni had yanked it.

Vaatu walked over, effortlessly lifting Tui off of Agni. “Alright that’s enough.”

Vaatu inspected Tui’s arm, but it seemed like it would bruise at worst, so no need for even a bandage. “Tui, don’t take your brother’s things without asking. It’s not nice, and,” Vaatu kept going before Tui could interrupt, “it’s not sharing because you didn’t give him a choice. Agni couldn’t share with you because you didn’t ask, so what you did was stealing. Agni, violence is bad. Now, both of you apologize.”

Vaatu set Tui down and stared expectantly at the two.

“Sorry for hitting you, Tui.” Agni said, somewhat reluctantly.

“I’m sorry for taking your doll, you can have him back now.” Tui responded. Luckily she sounded genuinely apologetic, though if the looks she was shooting Vaatu were anything to go off of, she wasn’t happy to be made to apologize.

“Good job. I’m very proud of you both.” Vaatu said, patting the two on the heads. He smiled a little wider at their indignant looks, proving that they had picked up on his sarcasm and condescension. Oh well, it was his right as an older brother to be condescending and sarcastic. They’ll understand when they’re older.)

“I’m sorry Agni, but Tui is right. The unborn royal is a good option, the fewer places I need to be at once the better. I may have bitten off more than I can chew with nine mortals. I know this isn’t ideal for you, but I think you’re overruled.” Vaatu said to Agni, releasing him. La was nodding in agreement and Tui was looking a bit smug, but wiped the expression away quickly when Agni turned to glare at her.

<>“Fine. I-fine. Who do you suggest for earth?” Agni said, turning his attention to Tui.

Tui smiled, saying, “This is perfect timing really. The Beifong family are wealthy nobles with a lot of political sway in the earth kingdom, but they aren’t separate from the war the way Ba Sing Se is. And, lucky for us, they are going to be having a child soon!”

As Tui spoke she transported the group to a lavish house in the Earth Kingdom, obviously the Biefong estate. Tui pushed the other spirits into what appeared to be the master bedroom, saying, “The couple are very loving, I-”

Tui cut herself off as she finally noticed the state of the room. Vaatu could only sigh sadly, looking at the woman on the floor. She sat at the foot of the bed alone, holding a baby garment to her chest and crying. Vaatu could tell that she was not with child. Not anymore.

“Oh no…” Tui whispered.

“Do you- do you have any other ideas?” La asked quietly, not breaking the somber mood of the room.

Tui shook her head, “No, I didn’t think I needed another plan,”

“Are there any other Earth Kingdom nobles having kids soon?” Agni asked, gently transporting the spirits away from the sad scene.

Tui shook her head again, “I don’t think so. Maybe if we waited a year or so…”

Vaatu wanted to protest, the age gap between the children was already going to be a challenge, and as hard as it was, Vaatu wanted to rip off the band-aid so to speak and just get the other kids added. Before he could voice any of this though, Agni spoke up, “We need an Earth Kingdom noble. We have nobles in every other nation, if we want our hands in all of the cookie jars we need the mortals to be strategically placed.”

La nodded saying, “We can give it a few years. In two we need to meet up to go over plans for the awakening of the bond anyway. That can be our deadline.”

“Vaatu, is that okay?” Tui asked, turning to look at him. Part of Vaatu wanted to say no. To tell them to just find another kid and figure it out. Those three were great spirits afterall, famous for meddling in mortal affairs. But he knew he couldn’t do that. Not with all of them looking at him like that. Like he was still their brother. So he couldn’t say no.

“That deadline better be hard and fast. I’m not waiting longer than that, it wouldn’t be fair to either the child or Lu Ten.” Vaatu responded. Everyone nodded, and quickly set to work.

Like before, connecting the two new children was easy, Ursa didn’t even stir and Kya had no reaction. All was well.

Something was horribly wrong. Raava knew this. She didn’t know what, but with every passing year the bindings Vaatu had on her avatar grew stronger. She might yet be able to break them, at the cost of this avatar’s life, but her previous avatars held fast, and kept her from taking control of the avatar state. She was woefully outnumbered. So she would wait. Bide her time. Sooner or later she would have an opportunity to strike, and when she did she would bring PEACE.

Perhaps it was time Raava turned her sights outward, and tried separating her consciousness from her avatar. She had spent a century watching, maybe it was time to act.

A few months later, Princess Azula of the Fire Nation was born.