Chapter Text
Spring was Aang’s favorite time at the Southern Air Temple. The blue poppies were blooming, the flying lemurs were pupping, and the afternoon winds wound through the temple corridors, humming against the stone. The very air felt alive and fresh.
He popped by the kitchen, hoping to catch the head chef, an imposing woman named Chu Hua. Though she barely came up to Aang’s shoulder, she ran the kitchens with ruthless efficiency, and was not particularly tolerant of hungry Avatars sneaking in the middle of the night to filch freshly-baked tarts. Aang had learned the hard way that she slept on a cot in the kitchen, and that she had ears like a hawk. More than once he had left the kitchens with empty hands that still faintly stung after she swatted at them with a wooden spoon.
Chu Hua was, mercifully, not busy at the moment. A tempting smell came wafting from the ovens, but she herself was sitting by the window, smoking.
“Afternoon, Aang,” she greeted, offering the sweet-smelling cigarette to him. She was one of the few people at the temple that didn’t insist on calling him Avatar Aang, which he appreciated. He shook his head, and she shrugged and brought the cigarette up to her mouth. “Checking in on your travel pack?”
“Yes. I wasn’t sure if you would remember.”
“Ha!” Chu Hua barked out a laugh. “More like you wanted to try to snag a fruit pie. Don’t even think about it, they’re for dinner.”
There was never any use arguing with the cook, especially when she was right. He examined the bag in question. It was already filled and buckled, the cloth bulging with promising substance.
“Enough to last you a month on that ice cube,” Chu Hua remarked, taking another drag of her cigarette.
“I’m only going for a week.”
“Whatever.” She waved one hand dismissively. “Complain all you want, at least you won’t be stuck eating roots the whole time.”
“Thank you, Chu Hua,” he said belatedly, giving her a sunny smile. “I really appreciate it.” He had learned the hard way that it was easier for everyone involved to bring his own food to the poles. They always tried their best to accommodate his vegetarian diet, but there was only so much they could do with kelp and tubers.
She grunted in acknowledgement of his gratitude. “When are you leaving?”
“First thing tomorrow morning. I should be at the Southern Water Tribe in time for supper.”
“Hmm.”
“What?” Aang could tell that Chu Hua had more she wanted to say. Luckily, she required little prodding to share her opinion.
“Seems odd to be making the trip for your ex’s birthday.”
Aang had been wondering when she would bring that up. “It’s not just for Katara’s birthday,” he reminded her. “It’s also their festival for the first day of spring. They just happen to be on the same day, so they’re making it a big celebration.”
“Yeah, sure.” She exhaled a cloud of smoke out the open window. “Doesn’t make any sense to me. I haven’t seen or heard from my ex-wife in four years, and the both of us are happier for it.”
“You know why.” The sharpness in Aang’s tone was enough warning for Chu Hua to drop it. Besides, he considered as he returned to his room with the laden pack. I’ll get to see him.
It had been two long years since Aang had been able to talk to Sokka. After their drunken night together, when they had finally admitted their feelings for each other, Sokka had stormed out. Aang wanted to be respectful and give him some space to process, but the weeks turned to months with no word from the other man. Aang began writing letters, increasing in desperation, all of which were ignored. Every time Aang went to the Southern Water Tribe, Sokka would have coincidentally just left on a hunting trip, or a visit to Toph in the Earth Kingdom. Aang had finally gotten the message, but that didn’t mean that he was happy about it.
The upcoming event had quickly spiralled out of control, and was promising to be one of the biggest cultural festivals in recent memory. And there was no way that Sokka would miss Katara’s birthday. He would be there, and he would have to talk to Aang.
A glance at the sun revealed that it was almost dinnertime. Aang stowed the food pack under his bed, and made his way up to the cafeteria. Mealtimes were always a joyous affair. Despite there only being a couple dozen people living at the temple, the dining hall always seemed to fill with laughter and conversation. Aang let the sound wash over him, and he fought the urge to sit by himself and brood. Instead, he took a seat with a few of the families with older children. The adults nodded their heads respectfully at his approach. The kids did not.
“Aang!” A boy leaned across the table to shout directly at him. “Sorry, Avatar Aang,” he corrected at his mother’s stern glare. “Are you teaching airbending class tomorrow?”
“No, dummy,” a prim older girl cut in. “He’s going to the Water Tribe.”
A chorus of boo’s went up among the children, along with a flurry of wild air. Despite the negative response, Aang couldn’t help but smile.
In the past decade, without warning or reason, people across the three remaining nations were giving birth to airbenders. Aang could only guess that, in the wake of the war ending and peace returning to the world, the spiritual and physical world were working to bring balance to the elements again. Aang, along with the few adult Air Acolytes he had already managed to gather together, had decided to make a home for the new airbenders at the Southern Air Temple, if they were interested in joining him. He was delighted to find that almost all of the parents of the new airbending children had moved down, and seemed to be happy with their new lifestyle. And of course, nothing he had experienced in life so far could match the unbridled elation of training the next generation of Air Nomads.
“Don’t call Gaden a dummy, Dolma,” Aang reprimanded the girl gently. Dolma was the oldest of the airbending children, and also one of the most talented. She was very aware of this fact. “Sangye is going to be teaching the class this week while I’m gone.” That mollified the children a little bit. Sangye was one of Aang’s first Air Acolytes, and although he wasn’t an airbender, he had studied under Aang for long enough that he was more than capable of teaching the movements to the children. More importantly, he had the heart and spirit of an Air Nomad.
“Will you be coming back to the temple after your trip, Avatar Aang?” One of the parents asked politely.
“I think so, for a little bit. Then probably off to the Earth Kingdom.”
“Are you going to fight the Unagi again?” Gaden piped up.
“He doesn’t fight the Unagi, he rides it!”
“He can do both!”
Aang interrupted the squabbling with a story about his last trip to Kyoshi Island, which captivated kids and adults alike. His heart swelled with joy as he gazed across the room of orange robes and shaved heads. It would never be the same as before, but he had been able to make something new.
Appa departed the air temple with little fanfare. Aang had elected to leave before sunrise. Partially to make sure that they didn’t have to fly into the night, but also because he had barely been able to sleep. The knowledge that he would soon be seeing Sokka kept him awake, sending bolts of anxiety through his stomach. He planned out a million different conversations that would go a million different ways. Sometimes he was so ecstatic to be seeing his love again that he could do little else but tell him that, over and over. Sometimes he was furious at Sokka’s distance, or distraught with perceived rejection. No matter what, they all ended the same way: Sokka in Aang’s arms, warm and real, kissing him like he was the best thing in the world.
The worst thing about traveling alone was that there was little else Aang could do but think. The trip from the Southern Air Temple to the Water Tribe was particularly brutal, since he had nothing to look at but blue ocean stretching in all directions. His mind wandered back to Sokka, and how they had ended up in this predicament.
Aang didn’t even know when he had actually fallen for Katara’s brother. There were moments, over the past few years, that seemed promising. But the truth was, Aang thought that he had loved Sokka since the beginning. Since that first time traveling the world, spending hours upon hours together and never getting bored or angry.
He could still remember the first time Sokka had said he loved him. It was during their first forced stay in Ba Sing Se while they searched for Appa, and Aang was going insane. The feeling of being locked inside the city, surrounded by walls, chipped away at his spirit and made him fidget. He had suggested to Sokka that they could fly up to the royal palace and just look.
“Aang, I love you, but that’s a terrible idea.” The words struck Aang in the throat, and his ears were buzzing so much he could barely hear the rest of the sentence. “The Dai Li are watching your every move, if you even think about trying to see the king, they’ll kick us out of the city.” Sokka wasn’t even looking at him. He was preoccupied with the menu of the food cart they were standing at, trying to decide on lunch.
Aang wondered if Sokka still remembered that, if he replayed it in his head over and over again the way that he did.
Life was just better with Sokka, even when his relationship with Katara was at its worst. They found every excuse to travel together, no matter how busy they were. Even when they were working, Aang felt lighter having Sokka at his side. Though he always claimed that Appa was his actual best friend, privately he thought that Sokka was a close second. There was nobody in the world like him. They could go from pragmatic and realistic, to goofy and outrageous at a moment’s notice. Even as they both grew older, Aang felt like a giddy child when he was with Sokka.
His mind wandered, as it frequently did, to their night together. Over less than 24 hours, everything had gone so very right, and then terribly wrong. Aang had known, even in the moment, that it wasn’t just sex. That they both understood each other well enough to know that it meant something more. He hadn’t expected Sokka’s anger in the morning. He was wrong, Aang was sure of it. Katara wouldn’t necessarily be jumping up and down with glee if they were together, but she would have understood. They could have made it work. And instead, Aang was left cold, for months on end, unable to close the distance between himself and his best friend.
One hand drifted up to graze against his lips. He could still feel the warmth of Sokka’s last kiss, before he walked out of Aang’s life. More determined than ever to make things right, Aang spurred Appa onward, encouraging the sky bison to fly as fast as he could.
It was early evening when he finally sighted the glacier that housed the center of the Southern Water Tribe. The village had been built up in the past two decades, and was now a sprawling town. Aang resisted the urge to fly ahead of Appa. Butterflies were beginning to fill his stomach, and he didn’t want to seem overeager.
Appa finally landed on the snow-driven ground, groaning in relief after the long flight. A small group of people, all clad in blue, approached to greet him. Aang’s eyes were immediately drawn to Sokka. He felt like he had been hit in the chest, that all the air had been sucked out of his lungs. Sokka looked just as gorgeous as ever, even though his usually sunny expression was replaced with a carefully neutral one.
Just behind Sokka was the chief, Hakoda, along with his second-in-command and husband, Bato. Ironically, they looked much happier to see him than Sokka did. Aang jumped down from Appa’s back, using a small gust of air to clear the snow from under his feet as he landed. The last person in his welcome party was Katara, holding the hand of a small figure, clad head to toe in so many furs that they could barely move. At the sight of Aang, the figure squealed in delight and ran towards him, graceful as a bird despite the cumbersome clothes. Aang held out his arms as the speeding bundle took a flying leap, clearing the last ten feet in one swift jump before landing lightly against his chest.
“Daddy!” the young girl burbled, throwing her arms around Aang’s neck. Aang dropped his bag to catch her.
“Hey, Zaya.”