Archive of Our Own ^beta

It had been approximately 11 months since the avatar had broken out of the ice, 5 since the war supposedly ‘ended’, since the prince had defeated the previous fire lord in a more emotionally ridden battle then an impressive one, filled with yelling and growling and mocking and- it took just about 8 minutes of actual fire bending before lightning was redirected and the battle was one, the young-so young, fire lord took his spot and quickly turned the fire nation on its head with new laws, completely changed schooling systems, returning troops and a change in taxes. All issued as quickly as possible, the lord missing from public eye after the coronation, supposedly issuing each change that a servant yells over to the people and sends letters to those who haven’t heard

This of course effected the people of the other nations too, the trading system, territorial allowances, armies and material standings all changed and impacted, and so, the sailors, traders and merchants did what any bored workers did, especially those who get around as much as those on the waves.

They gossiped.

Some, however, did not get the message. Those who didn’t hear, and those who refused to listen.

After all, there were groups of people who craved it, soldiers staying behind to keep fighting, commanders who ignored the letters and commands and kept their soldiers clueless and uninformed, well justified doubts bloomed, too familiar with the propaganda that the fire nations troops spat, false hope dying out long ago in most, remaining famine and lasting damage that just couldn’t be dealt with fast enough to convince or reach most of everyone, let alone all of them.

Surprisingly, the first people to find out outside of fire nation walls, were the southern water tribes, receiving a letter in the early second month, their men familiar with the fire lord, trusted allies that celebrated not only the end of the war but the new fire lord as well, drinking and reminiscing, sending just about as many letters as there were men in return, beaming at each other and in return the new fire lord, yelling and dancing about returning home, tho it had started with confused silence, and so, the navy of the South, returned first. And thanks to the great panic of the frontal tribes chief (where are my kids? The Avatar? Mama please be serious! Bato! Bato what do you mean you knew!) a couple of ships immediately left again.

The north did not get their letter until five months into the new age of peace, an old man laughing at the city of ice, poking fun at a dear friend for being buried so deep in their high walls of white that they hadn’t even noticed that a 100 year war had ended, all fun, of course, all hidden in lovely words and tangible polite smiles, even if it was just a letter. The man, pauses, stares, informs his chief, who sends a single ship out to investigate

The next were the docks of just about every territory, blooming from the fire capital and extending, information, gossip and over exaggerations spreading like wild fire gone out of control, carried by any person that over heard the gossip, the hushed conversations or the loud yells.

Next were the prisoners, each crime overseen, reeveluated. Human rights protesters? Free to go. War prisoners? Free to go. Making convenient room for war criminals, assaulters and nobles who thought themselves too rich to go into custody.

Information was difficult to sort through, difficult to understand, too easy to get.

The avatars group, however, did not get the message.

Too caught off guard, too unprepared, too panicked.

Preparing to attack on a the day of the black sun, that their so deeply unprepared for.

Its been 8 months since the avatar awoke and 2 since the war ended when they start to plan.

“You must be a rock” the old man tells him, sipping tea in an upper rank overly large yard as the avatar hopelessly tries to move a rock, the rock moving him, more then anything “only one more stubborn then the other can move the second”

The avatar pauses, eyes him and glances at the older boy sitting on a rock, sharpening his weapons, frowning in confusion thats even more confused then the younger boy, but glances back ay him and shrugs in support and understanding anyway.

The old man simply chuckles, as that cocky boy comes over and offers a fresh cup of tea. The man hums, thanks him and takes the cup, and sipping, his smile twitching at the taste. “My nephew has surely rubbed off on you, my dear boy…” he says, and the tan boy, slides the piece of grass he always chews on to the other cheek and grins

“Id say. He has that effect” he sniffs, takes his own tea, seemingly perfectly content with the taste the older man so bitterly (at least for the always smiling tea master) comments on, based on the way he exhales.

“Hopefully, you have had enough of my dear nephews…effects to not soak them up anymore. After all, a full sponge can no longer soak up any liquid, when it has become full”

“…right”

Jet was…unique, cocky, lazy, bratty, bottom line, he was a dick by all means, no matter what karara ans her heart eyes said, he slept most of the day and snickered at them whenever they whispered amongst each other about the war. They didn’t want mr mushi to hear their war plans, because he, much like joo Dee, said that the war wasn’t happening, tho, differently from the uncanny customer service smile that followed them and insisted that there had never been a war, moshi says that it is over and the poor man frowns and shakes his head whenever he hears invasion.

Jet, to his credit, does come back with a skinnier, bruised up Appa about half a month in, looking frazzled, and confused and wearing odd…fire nation red armour pieces mixed with metal gray over his none nation specific clothes and hook swords- HOOK SWORDS, much to Sokkas horror (jealousy), so they accept his existence for the time that it takes for appa to heal, because he does stay, he laughs at them when they ask him to join. “No way! Im not fighting the fire lord again.” And then walks off snickering at them, leaving the old man smiling at them

“I hope you can resolve this peacefully” he says “talk it out”

Like hell they will.

Theyve reached the fire nation, and its getting increasingly more obvious that its impossible to hide aangs tattoos, they pull him around with a cloak pulled so far down his face that it covers his eyes too. And sokka turns his back for a minute, he swears, just one, no, not even one! Just enough time to buy some fruits and hes gone. Leaving him standing alone in the middle of a fire nation town with an armful of fruit with no avatar.

“Were having a dance party!”

Sokka regrets not tying the twelve year old to his own wrist.

He doubts even that would have been enough.

Piandao gives him his sword and sokka feels compleate.

“You earned it, Sokka of the southern water tribe.”

Sokka feels a deep dread seep into his bones instead

“Wha-“

The man raises his brows and puts a hand his shoulder, warm, comforting, like his fathers but slimmer, lighter, “what? You arent subtle. And the fire lord has issued, lets say a lookout for you.” Apparently sokkas horrified and betrayed feelings slipped outwardly too because the man squeezed his shoulder “dont worry, its not wanted posters or anything of the sort. And its not nation vide either. It is more an invitation.”

And thats how they ended up infront of the palace.

To talk.