Chapter Text
“Do you think I should have a nickname? Jet’s Freedom Fighters all had nicknames. Like Longshot. Do you think I look like a Longshot?”
Aang shook his head with a laugh. “I think you look like a Sokka.”
“Hey!” Sokka whined, turning to Katara for support. “I think I could pull it off!”
She grinned. “Not by a… long shot.”
***
“No, Aang,” Kya smiled indulgently, “We’re not cutting through Fire Nation waters so you can show us an all-day echo chamber.”
“But—”
“If we wanted to hear talking all day,” Hakoda chirped, “we could always ask Bato about the Great Blubber Fiasco.”
The absolute worst person leaned into the conversation over Kya’s shoulder. “I thought you’d never ask!”
***
By Hakoda’s best estimates, they were a week away from the Northern Water Tribe. After four months, three skirmishes, two kids’ birthdays, and one cactus-induced hangover, the end of the journey couldn’t come soon enough.
For some of them, anyways. While off scouting, Aang had spotted a Fire Nation-controlled resort on the Su Oku River, and Hakoda’s mother of all people insisted that they stop there.
“The North is going to be nothing but shivering and stress for the next few months,” Kanna said with her hands stuffed dramatically in the pockets of her parka. “We should relax while we still can.”
Hakoda side-eyed her. “This has nothing to do with avoiding the man you left behind, does it, Mother?”
“Not at all,” she said with a good-natured eyeroll, “Pakku will get what’s coming to him when we get there, but I won’t be able to get a hot bath again until after Aang’s done splashing.”
Appa dropped Sokka and his dad on the northern bank of the Su Oku River.
They couldn’t just walk into a Fire Nation resort in proud Water Tribe colors. They were at war, in enemy territory. There were probably soldiers less than half a day’s march away from them, and all it would take was one startled Fire Nation handmaid to bring a garrison of firebenders down on Sokka and his family.
No. They had to be subtle about this.
“Think of it like a hunting expedition,” Dad had said when he pitched the scouting mission. Aang’d politely excused himself like he did all things meat, and Katara was getting her hair re-loopied, so Sokka had his dad all to himself as they slowly stalked their way up along the river towards where Aang had seen the resort. “You want to know that the ice below you isn’t going to give out, how many men and in what positions you can send them. Make sure you bring the right equipment. A lot of this stuff you learn from your elders who’ve done it before. When we get back home, I’ll take you on a proper one.”
The river was so wide that the pond where Aang got the angry Katara experience could have fit inside it. That didn’t stop a series of stakes from rising out of the bottom of the river, supporting a bridge which carried what could have been a small island in its center, but was actually a complex of a half dozen wooden buildings.
He was still getting used to the idea that buildings outside of the South Pole weren’t going to just melt in a warm spell, but architecture like this was insane. How did it stay up right? Did it wash away when it rained? Could the whole thing float ?
“...and I know it’s hard to be the middle kid, but…”
There looked like there was a harbor down a zigzagging path from the south bank, which was large enough they could even dock their ship rather than dropping anchor. Even though it’d be slightly slower to get going the sight lines would give them enough time that it should be manageable.
“...I’m so excited to see the man you’re becoming.”
Huh. Whuh—
“Sokka? Are you listening?”
Sokka scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. “Not really, sorry. It looks like it’d be hard to get there without getting spotted. Unless there’s a way underneath the bridge?” Sokka shook off the thought, turning his full attention to his father. “Sorry.”
Hakoda smiled. “You’re doing fine, Sokka. That’s all I really wanted to tell you.”
Bato had volunteered Hakoda (and he had volunteered Bato shortly thereafter) for the mission. The process had been slow, scouting the layout, sneaking past the expected spa attendants and an at-least-eighty-person wedding party (judging from the excessive flower arrangements and lanterns). Dangling from the sides of the wood-slatted floors; swinging their lower bodies from support beam to support beam on their way from the southern bridge onto a superstructure built into the middle of a river; perching less than a hundred feet away from a waterfall emptying out into the sea.
Hakoda’s hands would need to be massaged out of their claw shapes when he came back in delicate pinks, but they were at least close to their target now. He held up a hand to stop Bato from moving.
The resort cleaned and stocked their complimentary robes in a small out-building on the northern side of the complex. On one end of the washhouse was a large wheel with its paddles in the water, turning with the flow of the river. Next to it was a series of buckets connected on a long rope, drawing water up from the surface at regular intervals.
Sokka would love trying to figure out how the machine worked. If it hadn’t been for the freezing cold water back home that could easily freeze up the mechanism, they probably would have built one themselves.
Before Hakoda could pull his mind away from engineering, he heard the creak of wood beside him and saw his best friend wind up for a leap.
“Bato—!”
His second was already mid-air, arms flailing for a hand-hold across a ten-foot gap. He caught himself on the rope between two buckets, wrapping his legs around it to keep himself from slipping. The pulley system shuddered from the impact of his weight, but then stabilized with a splash from the buckets above and below him, and a slight bounce as the system rebalanced itself.
Bato shot him a far-too-smug grin as he rode the mechanism into the washhouse. Hakoda sighed fondly and leapt after him.
The rest of the adventure was smooth sailing. They found a pair of woven baskets and a neatly-labeled collection of robes, sorted by sizes, of which they helped themselves. Hakoda pulled off his blues and changed into what he’d seen the workers here wear, tucking his own clothes underneath the rest of the pile of purloined linens.
He whistled nonchalantly out of the back room as he led Bato out of the building and into the main courtyard, holding baskets with enough robes for the whole crew. No half measures here. If they were having a spa day, they were all going to have a spa day.
The breeze across the wooden walkways was surprisingly pleasant for this time of year. No, it wasn’t that it was a warm day for late fall. The fast approaching winter solstice in the south meant that it was almost summer in the north. That at least explained the blossoming trees.
Now that he and Bato were dressed in something that wouldn’t get the usual anti-Water Tribe slurs thrown at them, they were free to use the doorways without fear. A small archway linked the main buildings, opening out into a deceptively wide courtyard, lined with planters of cherry trees that didn’t seem to mind that they were only separated from the river below by slats of their fallen kin.
Everything that wasn’t made of wood wore a spectrum of reds from pink to black, since despite having nearly the whole world’s resources at their hands, the Fire Nation were nothing if they didn’t keep to their team colors. Except for the blue he saw out of the corner of his eye, which was—
Which was Kya.
And Katara.
And his mother.
And Aang, arrows fully out for the world to see.
Waiting in line at the reception, undisguised, talking to the woman behind the desk like they were nothing more than part of the wedding party. Shockingly, none of the half-dozen Fire Nationals in the room were tackling his son to the ground.
Hakoda mouthed a frantic ‘what are you doing??’ at Kya, who just smiled beatifically.
She instead turned to the receptionist, and, loud enough for Hakoda’s benefit, said, “Yes, that’s right. Bonzu has family coming in from all over the world. He insisted that your hospitality and discretion were second to none… I’m glad to hear that he was telling the truth.”
The receptionist responded at a more discrete volume.
“Why yes, if there’s room, the crew that brought us would enjoy one of the unoccupied baths.” The woman, ever the professional, raised an eyebrow but her response just made Kya laugh. “Yes, my husband will be joining us as well. He insisted on scouting the place ahead of time.”
Hakoda’s mother drifted away from the conversation and sidled up alongside him, gesturing for a robe and a towel. “If you could, please, young man. I’ve waited a long time for this.”
He let out an exasperated sigh and picked some out for her. “I had it handled, Mom.”
“I’m sure you did. But when presented with the opportunity, I could hardly turn down full access to the massage tables. And besides, your Kya could convince them that she was the Earth Queen if she had a green sheet on.”
“I… suppose she could.”
If he’d thought he had the choice, he supposed he would have preferred taking the straightforward method, too, but if he had learned anything from their luck on the trip up here, the chances that nothing would go wrong were about as likely as defeating a polar bear dog barehanded.
His eyes scanned over the crowd. The younger crewmen were making bets who could survive the sauna the longest. Bato was making his own fun smacking the guys with towels. Sokka was dragging his sister to check out the water wheel ( called it! ). Even Appa was having fun airbending cherries off their branches and daring the attendants to chase him off as he ate.
His mother cleared her throat. “I’m still waiting for my robes, young man.”
***
Aang wouldn’t say that he was nervous about starting waterbending training. Sure, it was creeping up on him at a wind-assisted seven knots an hour. Sure, he was still slightly terrified he could lose everything again if he failed. But it was exciting, too, to see the world and learn new ways of seeing it.
Besides, if he had to save the world, he had family along for the ride, that a bunch of old men couldn’t take away from him because he wouldn’t let them.
Stress like that was even harder to hang onto when it was washed away with warm water and some scented soaps, which were both in abundance in the kids’ baths he and Katara had found unoccupied. It was a small room, with high frosted windows, a gap at the top where steam from the adjoining rooms intermixed, and a large tub taking up most of the space in the center.
They could hear Bato’s barking laugh floating up from next room over and a sighed response that had to have been Hakoda’s. It was good to know they were close if anything went wrong (like things had a habit of doing), but not so close to listen in.
“Hey Katara?” Aang called from his semi-submerged seat near the faucet. She was hovering just outside the edge of the tub, as she had been for the past two minutes, expression an endearing mix of confusion and determination. Like she thought it would scald her if she actually climbed in. “The water’s the perfect temperature.”
“Says the guy who doesn’t need a parka.”
Aang scrunched his face in confusion. “You think I’m bending a little layer of air around me when most of me’s underwater?”
She paused to consider for a moment, and then her face lit up. “So, you’re bending water to keep you from boiling.”
No, he hadn’t even considered it, but sure it was possible. The way his sister’s face lit up, though, got him wondering. “Do you think that could work?”
Turns out, Katara admitted begrudgingly, Aang was right about the temperature. Since they’d left the South Pole, water hot enough to give off steam was for cooking food and washing clothes and could seriously hurt anyone trying to sneak a couple sea prunes before they were properly stewed ( Sokka ). But this water was wonderful, pumped in at a steady temperature.
She was not about to admit that she’d learned this because her bending hadn’t quite worked as well for temperature controlling water as Aang’s did with air.
With the privacy of the baths, and the joy of being off the boat for an afternoon, she and Aang were now locked in a water war, tossing waves and small streams of water at each other.
She pulled a globe of water in between her cupped hands and breathed it into a snowball. She readied her arm, just as the door slid open, and—
Sokka was in the middle of a Fire Nation resort, a full ocean away from home, hair freshly shampooed and massaged and silky smooth, and he was still getting smacked in the face with a snowball.
“Katara!” he yelled over his siblings’ giggles. “Watch where you’re—”
Aang pulled him into the room (unnecessarily!) by the elbow with wide eyes (as if he was going to expose Katara’s bending like that!). Sokka stared up at him and his sister (who was frustratingly taller than he was!) with one of his dad’s best dad looks, but that only renewed their giggles.
“Besides,” he said, lowering his voice to a more discreet volume, “if I wanted to see magic water, I’d try to find where all this lovely, warm not-snow is being pumped in from.” He stuck his tongue out at Katara.
By all means, if they wanted to stay put and let him see just how good the ‘mineral enriched’ water really was at clearing his pores, he’d let them.
But…
“Yeah sure, Sokka,” Aang smiled enthusiastically, wrapping a robe around his waist after literally air-drying himself. “I bet there’s a boiler room somewhere nearby.”
***
When it came time to leave, the men were all accounted for, no alarms had been raised, nothing caught on fire, and Kya’s mother-in-law had even managed to sell a bucket of her preferred seaweed moisturizer to a very enthusiastic wedding guest.
All that was missing were the kids, and if she had a swear jar for every time she thought that particular line, they could probably buy their own cabin on Kyoshi Island. Aang was trustworthy, if a little flighty. The younger kids were safe in his hands. They just weren’t there right now.
She looked to her husband, who smirked and mouthed ‘your turn.’
What would be the worst place for a bunch of impulsive benders to find themselves? Not the roof, which wasn’t high enough to fall off dramatically. Not the bar at the wedding reception, considering they’d learned their mistake with the soju they’d stolen from Bato’s stash a couple weeks back.
She saw the steam rising up over the water and sighed.
The boiler room was much smaller than Kya would have expected, given the size of the resort that it was fueling. Just a single level of a larger laundry building that spanned from almost the river’s surface up four floors, with pipes leading into it from the waterwheel outside, through a furnace that seemed to glow with the regularity of breathing, and out into a half dozen pipes that must service the rest of the facility.
On the near side of the room, Aang and Sokka were playing with a bellows the size of Sokka’s chest, taking it in turns to see who could blast the other with a single squeeze of it (Aang was almost certainly cheating, considering how Sokka was literally blown over by the last attempt, but at least Sokka was being a good sport about it).
On the end farther from the door, Katara was talking to a total stranger dressed in the soft pinks of the people who worked there. Her looks were a mix of both Fire and Earth, with straight black hair that fell below her shoulders.
She didn’t seem hostile, even as she fidgeted with a book that she’d obviously been in the middle of reading before being interrupted. The woman’s responses were clipped and shockingly crass at times, though even having come in mid-way through, Kya could tell that she was hiding her amusement behind a half-hearted scowl.
“Hey, children,” Kya sang. Each of the three stopped what they were doing. The resort had done them all some good. “It’ll defeat the whole point of our trip if we leave without you.”
“Then you can’t leave without us!” Sokka crossed his arms and pouted.
“Don’t think you’re big enough that I can’t carry you,” Kya teased indulgently.
Aang smiled, “We won’t be too long! Monk’s promise!”
Katara looked back at her conversation partner—who was pretending to have gone back to her book. “And I was just learning about the difference between mineral water and salt water!”
The engineer—whose chuckles glowed in time with the coals—shrugged and turned another page of her book.
This must be what Hakoda feels like.
“Alright,” she said as her kids whooped in victory. She reached for the bellows with a playful smirk. “Five minutes.”
***
Some time later (Zuko didn’t really want to think about just how much time later), Zuko huffed and crossed his arms at the same woman at the same desk that had given Kya and her family free reign of the place. “What do you mean they were model guests?? Why didn’t you stop them! ”
He tried not to watch as Captain Zhao laughed at his expense—what did he know? It was his job to get them to the Avatar as quickly as possible, and he’d been doing a terrible job of managing their coal stores (“why of course, Prince Zuko, we need to fuel up three days after the previous stop”) let alone the importance of this mission, and anyways the only reason it was him instead of Uncle accompanying him was that he’d had to leave Caldera to chase the Avatar as soon as possible.
The receptionist at least had the decency to look apologetic, but her response was somehow more mocking than Zhao could ever hope to be.
“What kind of excuse is ‘they tipped well’!”