Chapter Text
“Tui and La, what is his problem! ” Katara shouted as they set up camp. Or re-set up camp, more accurately, after that hot-headed jerk bender Prince Zuko ambushed them. Again! Sokka had no clue how he kept finding them. He was like a shadow. A super annoying, angry, deadly shadow just following them wherever they went! This was the last thing they needed. They’re supplies were already running low from their last restock, they were still painfully far from the North Pole, and Sokka was starting to wonder if Aang even wanted to get there with how many detours he took them on.
Sokka directed his anger at the two sticks in his hands currently refusing to spark a campfire. When they finally lit, providing some much needed light against the quickly encroaching night sky, he looked up at the others. Taking in the expressions his sister and his friend wore.
Katara was fuming. She looked about ready to hop back on Appa and hunt Zuko down for a change. Aang just looked frustrated, and… strangely sad? He’d pulled his knees up to his chest, arms wrapped around them, resting his chin on top. Morale was low, that much was obvious. Despite their escape technically being a win, it felt very much like a loss, and a dark atmosphere crept in around them. Threatening to settle.
Sokka couldn’t let it. He’d learned from a young age the importance of keeping warriors spirits up on long excursions with little assurance and far less safety. More important than that, Sokka was a brother. An older brother, who’s baby sister needed someone to cheer her up. And Sokka was The Funny Guy! He could do that! So, leaning back and shoving his own sour mood aside, he drawled out the first quip he could think of as casually as he could, “Yeah, he does always seem to be… hot on our trail.”
The joke drew a groan from Katara, but her blood-curdling anger measured out into standard lighthearted annoyance, which made Sokka smile. Meanwhile Aang was trying to stifle his laughter in his hand. And failing, might I add.
It took a while to get his giggling under control, but as soon as Aang could form words, he replied in kind. “He really needs to… chill out.”
The boys howled with laughter, bad puns were almost as funny as fart jokes at their age, and even Katara couldn't hold out for much longer. (She’d blame it on the lack of sleep later.) Pretty soon all three were almost doubled over around the growing campfire, cracking up like schoolkids.
Mission accomplished, Sokka thought. But what he said out loud was, “I think Katara helped him out with that ice spike!”
Aang’s eyes widened, remembering the epic moment from their earlier fight, “Yeah that was so cool! It went, like, zoooom! Right past his arm!” He punctuated the sound effect with some wild gestures, dragging his arm through the air in a slicing motion.
Sokka barked a laugh, pride shining in his voice.“I didn’t know those things were sharp enough to cut!” As much as he always gripped about it, he couldn't help but be proud of Katara’s bending. How many self taught benders were as good as her? Imagine what she’ll be able to do once she has a Master.
Katara’s tone was as sour as spoiled buffalo-yak milk, “I hope it gives him a brand new scar.”
Sokka chuckled, murmuring his agreement. He didn't hear anything from Aang, and glanced over to find the monk with a newly sobered expression. He looked unsure, frowning at her over the fire, “That’s kinda mean, Katara.”
She only raised an eyebrow, unapologetic. As she well should be. Why would she apologize for saying what they were all thinking? Sokka interjected, trying to bring some levity back. “No no, she’s got a point! Maybe a scar will knock him down a couple pegs.”
Katara scoffed, “Hopefully. The one he has now hasn’t seemed to do that, though.”
He tilted his head, considering the subject, “Unless he was, like, way worse before he got it.”
She laughed openly at that, “I can’t imagine Zuko being any worse.”
“Well either way, when this is all over, I’m tracking down whoever put that dumb ugly thing on his face, and making them a war hero!” Sokka exclaimed, tossing a few more twigs into the fire and reaching for some sturdier branches to build a makeshift stand for Katara’s cooking pot. It was getting late, and his stomach was making that fact very well known. He mentally cataloged their supplies. They should be able to manage a somewhat-filling dinner tonight.
“I don’t know, guys.” Aang piped up, hesitant in a way that almost had Sokka rolling his eyes, “It… kinda looks like it hurt?”
Now, Sokka did roll his eyes. “Of course it hurt, it’s a scar! Who cares? This is Zuko we’re talking about.”
There was a pause, but he didnt pay it any mind. He figured maybe the conversation was over. But there must have been some sort of soft-hearted staring contest going on between the two younger members of their trio, because Katara spoke up in a placating tone, “However it happened, I’m sure he deserved it, Aang… Zuko’s an ass.”
Sokka gasped theatrically, jumping back to gape at his sister, “Katara! There are children present!”
She groaned, giving an eyeroll of her own, “Oh, give it a rest.”
Sokka, as a matter of fact, did not. “My baby sister, a potty mouth, I swear! I’m telling GranGran the second we get home!”
“Like you haven’t said worse.” She accused.
Unphased, he turned back to his task and retorted, “I’m 16, I’m allowed!”
“I’ll tell GranGran you said that, then.”
His eyes flew wide open. His head snapped in her direction, voice turning pleading, “Wait, no, please.” His pitiful display brought the laughter from earlier back tenfold. Aang and Katara didn’t contain their amusement for a solid 15 minutes, and even then smiles clung to their lips like they’d been there all day. Sokka would be lying if he said his pride wasn't a little bruised by that. But hey, at least they were happy again! They continued to talk and laugh all through katara cooking, all through eating, all the way until they were bedding down for the night.
Mission accomplished, indeed.