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The waves rise and fall in a steady rhythm as Hakoda’s ship slides through the water not far from the Earth Kingdom coast. The Chief of the Southern Water Tribe stands at the bow, squinting his eyes as he watches the horizon, looking out for anything unusual.
The thick clouds above feel heavy and the grey sky doesn’t help to ease the minds of his crew. Today it is only another patrol, but the end of the war is approaching. It’s palpable if also unpredictable as to how it will end.
The last months have been a series of unpredictable events, starting with the failed attempt of invading the Fire Nation on the Day of Black Sun which ended with Hakoda getting imprisoned only to be liberated weeks later in a reckless operation led by Sokka with the support of a Kyoshi Warrior and – to Hakoda’s shock – the Prince of the Fire Nation. By now he should be used to Sokka’s unconventional ways to approach things, but he’s not complaining.
Sokka has become a key figure as the Avatar’s strategist and Hakoda can’t deny that his son is doing a great job. At first it was strange to be asked by him to do this or that operation, but Sokka has never delivered them as orders, which made accept the reasonable and well thought-through plans much easier.
It’s how Hakoda’s fleet is finding themselves at sea patrolling the borders of the Earth Kingdom where the Fire Nation could easily attack. Which won’t happen today, apparently. There are no steam-powered war ships in sight, which Hakoda notices with relief but also with growing nervousness. The day will come, sooner or later.
He gives Bato who’s at the steering paddle a sign to turn the ship around to head back towards the land. His second in command follows the order immediately and the ship rocks as the waves catch it sideways. It’s nothing to worry a Water Tribesman.
“Look! There are ships approaching from the West!”, one of the younger man suddenly shouts.
Alarmed, Hakoda looks up and hurries towards the railing, expecting to see the enemy coming.
But there is no smoke. Instead white and blue sails appear at the horizon. First one, then two, then suddenly, there’s two dozen heading towards them.
“The North!”, someone yells excitedly and murmurs spread all over the ship.
Hakoda tries to keep his composure, but he can’t deny that he’s beyond relieved. They have really come to join the fight.
“Slow us down and get the plank ready”, he commands and the men follow his command eagerly, quickly hauling in the sail, so that the wind won’t push them further.
The Northern fleet is approaching quickly and Bato is at his post beside Hakoda, when the leading ship comes to align with theirs. It’s the first time in a century that the Water Tribes meet like this and the excitement is palpable. Cheers fill the air and eager hands reach for the plank that Hakoda’s crew passes them to connect the vessels.
Once it is set, a man traverses it skillfully, hopping onto Hakoda’s ship with practiced ease.
He’s young, but his demeanor clearly shows him to be a leader. There is a glint of nervous excitement in his eyes, but otherwise he seems calm and composed. Long black hair falls loosely over his shoulders, safe for the braids at his temples and his armor is unmistakably Northern with the moon crescent adorning the short sleeves of his shoulder piece.
“Welcome”, Hakoda says with a barely held-back smile and reaches his arm out for the traditional greeting.
The young man doesn’t hesitate. His grip is sure and strong and he nods at Hakoda respectfully, before he steps back.
“Chief Hakoda. I am troop leader Hahn. By order of Chief Arnook and our council, I bring twenty-six ships, four-hundred spears and blades, sixty waterbenders and medical support. We’re here to answer the Avatar’s call. Until the end of the war our fleet will sail under your command.”
Hakoda doesn’t register a single word after ‘Hahn’. His mouth opens and he stares at the young man completely dumb-folded while his heart beats painfully like a war drum. The air is knocked from his lungs as if he’d been punched. Hahn might as well have done so, the impact would have been the same. Though probably easier to handle.
This is the man.
Not just an idea, not just a name in Sokka’s mouth. Not a necklace.
The living, breathing man, who holds Sokka’s heart, is standing right in front of him.
It’s not like Hakoda forgot about it. But he certainly tried not to think about it, ever since Sokka’s revelation several months ago. He didn’t exactly handle it well. And he’s clearly not prepared or ready to meet Hahn like this.
Someone next to him subtly clears his throat. Hakoda remains frozen, his eyes glued to the young warrior, who watches him with vary though kind eyes, remaining perfectly patient and calm for Hakoda’s reaction.
A second clearing of throat follows, less subtle this time and with a not gentle nudge against his shoulder. Hakoda fidgets before straightening again, trying to regain some of his composure.
“Yes, that’s- We are honored.” He grimaces. “Welcome. Welcome to-“
His voice trails off and Hakoda has no idea what to say. This definitely isn’t how this meeting is supposed to happen. He shouldn’t meet his son-in-law across ranks on a military operation. But throughout the last months barely anything happened like it was supposed to.
He takes a deep breath and nods awkwardly at Hahn.
“Welcome, Hahn. I am glad to finally meet you.”
The words don’t get stuck in his throat. Hahn’s lips twitch into a little smile that holds compassion and gratefulness and that makes Hakoda think he might actually mean the words he just said. Nevertheless, he’s just as turmoiled as he has been on that particular day a few months ago.
The fog is still hanging over Chameleon Bay like a thin veil and the gravel crunches under his boots as Hakoda makes his morning round through the camp. Throughout the last months it has become the main base of the Southern Water Tribe fleet due to its strategic position close enough to Ba Sing Se for the Fire Nation Military to keep their distance but accessible enough to allow for a quick departure to join any operation they are needed at.
Sleek boats painted in blues and grays rest at the makeshift docks, fishing nets are spread out to dry on the stony ground and his warriors move through the camp with ease. The men are good-humored due to the vast availability of food and the fact, that there’s little combat activity. For the time being it is their duty to watch and hold the river so that the Fire Nation doesn’t gain access to Lake Laogai and thus the city. It’s honorable work, but also not very challenging.
It seems to be a perfectly calm day, when they hear a rumbling noise coming from above. Hakoda looks up, just like most of his warriors who already reach for their weapons.
At first, he sees nothing, but through the fog a fluffy and furry shape comes into sight. It doesn’t look Fire Nation, but it’s also nothing Hakoda has seen before.
“Hold”, he commands, when some of his men get their slingshots and spears ready.
Hakoda squints his eyes, while the creature descends towards them in circles. He spots someone waving from the head of the creature but it’s too far away to determine who the person is.
After a slow descend the beast lands with a heavy, gentle thud on the stony shore and grunts.
“Good boy”, he hears a strange yet familiar voice and then the rider slides down over the creature’s front leg. “Bye Appa. Bye Aang.”
With that, the flying beast gets back up in the air and leaves the lad behind, who turns to Hakoda with a wide grin.
The Chief’s heart stops abruptly only to continue beating harder than before.
“Sokka?!”
“Hi, Dad.”
A disbelieving laugh slips past Hakoda’s lips.
Sokka is here. His son is really here. In the middle of the Earth Kingdom, arriving on the back of an enormous creature and smiles at him like it hasn’t been three years since they saw each other last.
Hakoda doesn’t realize that he’s moving, but then his arms close around his son, encircling him in a tight embrace. Sokka hugs him back just as fiercely.
“Sokka”, he mumbles in disbelief, then takes a step back to take a proper look.
Sokka has grown into a young man, his wolf-tail haircut is still present, but he’s grown several inches and even built some muscles. His posture is confident and steady, no longer fidgeting under a scrutinizing look, half-expecting to be corrected. He has grown into a young man.
He’s carrying a real club knife now, not the wooden training club. A boomerang is strapped to his back and there’s another weapon, that Hakoda doesn’t recognize, on his belt. His little boy looks like a real warrior and the Chief’s heart swells with pride. Bato has been right. All Sokka needed was time.
“Katara would have come too, but someone has to protect the Earth King.”
“Of course”, Hakoda huffs in disbelief, because they heard stories but those sounded just to absurd to be taken seriously.
He wants to joke about it, still looking at Sokka, when he notices that something is off. Something is different. His eyes are glued to Sokka’s throat where his choker should be. Instead, there’s a dark blue pendant on a grey collar.
The meaning is unmistakable.
It hits him like a blow, and the smile falls from Hakoda’s face, leaving a bewildered expression on it. His heart is still beating hard, but no longer joyful. A devastating, hollow feeling settles in chest. Emotions, that are too much to handle and too complex to grasp, rise like bile. He can’t believe it.
“Dad?”, Sokka’s voice trembles just a little and when Hakoda meets his eyes, there’s an expression of hesitant hope.
But he finds himself unable to fathom a thought, too shocked, too overwhelmed, too hurt is he. This is not what he expected, not what he imagined for Sokka. It… It feels like the ground has been pulled from under his feet. He doesn’t know what to say. And he can’t even… he can’t look at Sokka with this thing around his son’s neck.
It’s just too much to handle, too much to ask of him.
Hakoda is aware of the hurt in Sokka’s eyes, when his son seems to realize that Hakoda is not going to say anything. But he’s unable to console him and too hurt himself. He will regret it later, but in this moment the only thing Hakoda can do is turn around and walk away.
Every step feels heavy, like moving through mud. He barely sees where he is going, he doesn’t hear a single noise. It’s like the fog has suddenly concentrated around him, invisible but unrelenting and it feels almost suffocating.
Hakoda doesn’t go far, just far enough that he’s out of side, stopping behind one of the boats where he braces a hand against the weathered wood. His chest feels tight and he tries to sort his thoughts, but it’s all tangled and abstruse.
He had always known that Sokka was different. Hakoda had often wondered, what was going on in his son’s head. Sokka claimed that he wanted to be a mighty warrior but was often and easily distracted by his peculiar ideas and strange inventions that popped into his head, which led to him missing training or paying less attention to the important things. The world needed leaders, not dreamers. Hakoda had told himself, that Sokka would grow out of that behavior. Boys became men at different paces and Sokka had just been slow.
And now his son is a warrior, a man and also… that. He accepted another man’s claim.
Hakoda’s jaw tightens and he balls his hands into fists.
It’s not hatred or disgust that he feels. It’s something subtler, though not less terrifying. Loss, frustration, fear.
The wrong-shaped don’t survive. They’re targeted, mocked and ridiculed – or worse. They’re supposed to be fragile things, not people who carry blades or go to battle or ride giant beasts.
A quiet, desperate sigh comes over Hakoda’s lips.
Why does Sokka always have to make life harder for himself?
Sokka always wanted to be a warrior. And that young man standing in front of Hakoda certainly looked like one. But the pendant shows that he’s given himself to one of his kind.
It’s impossible to align those things in his head, like imagining snow falling upwards.
Hakoda exhales heavily. It almost sounds like a sob.
“I don’t understand you.”
Hakoda doesn’t know how much time passes by. He keeps wandering between the boats, checking for damages or leaks, knowing that he’ll find none. It could have been a wonderful morning. After three endless years he has finally seen his son again and yet, all he can think about is the pendand around his neck and its implications.
“What did I miss?”, he mutters.
Footsteps approach from behind, sure and heavy to make themselves known.
“I wondered when you’d stop pretending to inspect the boats”, Bato says.
Hakoda doesn’t turn. “I am inspecting the boats.”
“And I am a pink platypus-bear.”
Hakoda sighs deeply and faces his second in command with an expression of profound misery.
Bato stands behind him, arms crossed loosely in front of his chest, studying his Chief with the knowing patience of someone who has spent years at his side.
“He’s alive”, Hakoda says, voice hoarse. “But he’s different.”
“Sokka was always different”, Bato replies calmly.
“But I didn’t raise him to be… this.”
Bato’s gaze sharpens, clearly disapproving, but his voice stays calm. “And ‘this’ means…?”
Hakoda gulps, he doesn’t want to say it. Instead he gestures vaguely at his own throat.
“He’s betrothed. To a man.”
“Obviously.”
“Spirits, Bato”, Hakoda hisses and rubs a hand over his face. “I tried. I taught him how to fish, to hunt, to fight, to lead. I did everything for him that my father did for me and-“
“And yet he didn’t become you”, Bato interrupts him gently.
His best friend’s words are like a slap and Hakoda flinches, a sense of guilt settling on him.
“I shouldn’t have left him behind”, he says quietly. “If I hadn’t, he wouldn’t… But he was not ready at the time. He wasn’t strong enough and- What if I failed him, Bato? Did I push too hard? Or not enough? What if this is my fault?!”
“Hakoda”, Bato’s voice sounds unusually hard. “Get yourself together.”
Hakoda freezes and stares at him.
“Instead of hiding here, I talked to him. Your son crossed half the world, fought soldiers twice his size, earned the respect of the Kyoshi Warriors, the Earth King and the Chief of our sister tribe. That’s not signs of failed upbringing. That he happened to fall in love with one of their troop leaders does not negate that.”
Hakoda blinks, letting the words sink in.
The narrative raises a million questions, but he is stuck on the last statement. A troop leader. Someone who yields authority, someone who stands his ground, someone who knows how to fight. It only stirs more more confusion, because that would basically make them the same. It doesn’t match Hakoda’s perception of the wrong-shaped.
“Troop leader?”, he asks with a hollow voice and Bato nods.
“That’s what Sokka said.”
“What else did he say?”
“The more important part is what he didn’t say. He’s hurting.”
“Yeah, me too.”
Bato sighs and puts a comforting hand on Hakoda’s shoulder.
“I told him you love him very much, but that you’re afraid for him. But he needs to hear it from you.”
Hakoda takes a deep breath. Bato is right, of course. That doesn’t make it any easier.
“Where is he now?”
“Gone hunting. He wants to make himself useful and proof them wrong.”
Hakoda’s brows furrow and he throws a questioning look at Bato, who shrugs.
“They’re talking of course and not with kind words.”
He means the other men of the Tribe. Hakoda balls his hands into fist, a bitter tug around his mouth.
“It’s what he chose. That’s how the world treats people like him.”
“What about his father?”
It’s a good question, one that hits where it hurts most. Hakoda really doesn’t understand why Sokka can’t want an easy life with a wife and kids, why he chooses a path that will bring sorrow. And the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe is not sure, if he will ever be able to accept it. But he’s not going to abandon his son.
“Spirits, help me”, he murmurs.
Bato claps his shoulder good-heartedly.
It’s painful to watch. Sokka stays with them and – as Bato says – tries to make himself useful. He helps out where he can, if it’s fetching water, hauling nets, helping repair a torn sail. All the while he keeps his head high and acts careless, but Hakoda sees that it’s just pretense. Sokka doesn’t hide the necklace and the condescending looks the men are giving him speak louder than words could.
There are some comments, whispered in hushed voices, and Sokka does his best not to flinch but he can’t hide the flash of hurt running over his face. He doesn’t complain though, nor does he fight back. He endures, stoic and surprisingly strong, but it is obvious that he’s tense.
One word that Hakoda picks up hurts particularly.
Arnauyq. Imitation of a woman.
Hakoda presses his lips tightly together, when he hears it. Something twists in his chest and he wants to lash out - at Sokka or at the young man who said it, he can’t tell – but it’s not his place. They will have to get used to this.
He doesn’t dare to approach Sokka throughout the day, even though he is aware of the searching looks his son is sending at him. But he’s not ready to have that conversation in broad daylight with others possibly listening in.
He waits until after nightfall, when the majority of his men have already retreated into their tents. A sole figure remains sitting at the fire, sharpening his blade with slow strokes of the whetstone.
Hakoda takes a deep breath, bracing himself before he steps close to the fire.
“Sokka”, he says quietly.
Sokka’s head shots up, looking at him with wide blue eyes, looking so much like Kya that something clenches painfully in Hakoda’s chest. Then his son quickly jumps to his feet.
“Chief.” His voice trembles slightly and the formality stings.
Hakoda grimaces and motions for him to sit back down on the tree trunk.
“I owe you an apology”, he begins, while he sits down as well, leaving a bit of space between them and looks decidedly into the flames and not at his son.
“I was surprised, to say the least. I shouldn’t have walked away from you. For that, I’m sorry.”
Sokka’s hands tremble lightly as they tighten around the whetstone.
“I didn’t want to make things difficult. I just wanted to see you.”
Hakoda nods. “I know.”
Silence stretches between them, deafening and uncomfortable. Hakoda huffs, then throws a sideways glance at Sokka, his eyes finding the pendant immediately. A desperate huff escapes him.
“Will you tell me about it?”, he asks quickly, before his nerves fail him, and points awkwardly at the necklace.
He’s met with a hesitant glance, before Sokka loosens the snatch. He places it in his hand and reaches it out, so that Hakoda can have a look at it.
The carving is very fine work. That’s the first thing Hakoda notices. Due to the darkness and the wavering light of the flames it’s not easy to recognize the symbol on the dark stone at first, but finally he does.
“The symbol of the Wise”, he says and Sokka nods.
“That’s mine. And that one”, he turns the pendant to the backside, now showing the symbol of the Brave, “that’s Hahn’s.”
“Hahn?”, Hakoda asks, not liking how helpless his voice sounds.
Sokka nods again and looks a bit torn, as if he can’t decide to tell Hakoda everything that’s on his mind or withholding information as to not upset his dad. Hakoda doesn’t know which he would prefer and he still doesn’t feel ready for this conversation, but he decided he’s not going to run but listen instead.
“It’s beautiful”, he says. “So he’s brave, then?”
“Yeah”, Sokka exhales and the softest smile settles on his lips as he watches how the light catches on the polished surface of the pendant. “He’s brave and kind and the most amazing person I’ve ever met. And he sees me for who I really am.”
Sokka’s words are touching, but they make him sad.
“Sounds like he cares for you very much”, Hakoda mutters.
Sokka nods decidedly, while he snatches the necklace back into place. “He does.”
Hakoda closes his eyes, because he can’t look at Sokka when he says those words. “And you love him.”
“I do.”
An uneasy feeling settles in Hakoda’s stomach. His son sounds so sure of himself, there is not a single doubt in his voice. It’s admirable. But it also hurts. He would never tell him, but it does and his chest tightens at the tenderness in Sokka’s voice when he continues.
“It was strange at first. We were preparing for a siege in the middle of a war and suddenly there was this person who felt like home. And he doesn’t laugh about my ideas, he asks questions. He encourages me. Hahn doesn’t see me as weird or too much. He makes me feel capable and… and loved.”
Hakoda shifts his weight, uncomfortable with the foreign notion in Sokka’s voice.
He still doesn’t understand how Sokka can talk about another man like that. But he understands, that his son is not being taken advantage of. That he’s happy.
The Chief exales slowly.
“I don’t understand this path”, he admits. “It’s not what I imagined for you.”
Sokka’s shoulders drop and he nods miserably. Hakoda’s heart clenches.
“But I want you happy and... loved. If this man-” Hakoda interrupts himself. “If Hahn gives you that, then I shall welcome him.”
“You really mean that?” Sokka’s voice is full of disbelief, but his eyes shine with hope.
Hakoda nods, his throat too tight to answer. He’s still struggling and a part of him is certain that he always will. But maybe that’s worth it, he thinks when Sokka throws his arms around him for a tight hug.
“Thank you, Dad”, he mutters in a whisper close to a sob.
Hakoda closes his eyes as he holds him close and nods weakly. He’s got his son back, alive and healthy after three years of separation. It might not be what he thought it would be like. And he might not understand Sokka, but he loves his son and nothing and no one is going to change that.
“If we anchor the heavier ships here”, Hakoda says and points at the map between them, “the Fire Nation will have to approach against the current.”
“Which means their smaller vessels will lose speed before they reach our line, giving our waterbenders time to attack”, Hahn agrees.
Bato stands next to them, listening without interrupting, his arms folded and an amused smile lingers on his lips. Hakoda ignores it.
It is still strange for him to interact with Hahn on a daily basis, discussing strategies and troop movements, while the fact that the young man and him are technically family still stands between them. They didn’t really talk about it, apart from a very awkward affirmation on Hakoda’s part. The Southern Chief intends to keep it that way. Gladly, Hahn seems to respect that and they keep their conversations professional although Hakoda has to admit that he’s watching the young man.
Hahn is an excellent leader and his troops respect him and follow his orders without any sign of reluctance or disdain. Hahn leads calmly with reason, efficiency but also kindness and consideration and it is easy to see that he’s a good man. It makes being dismissive much harder and seem ridiculous even to Hakoda himself.
He’s still struggling to grasp the concept of whatever is going on between Sokka and Hahn. Actually he doesn’t want to know.
Ignoring it, doesn’t seem to be an option though, especially not when Sokka arrives at the camp unannounced, this time riding on a Giant Eel-Hound in company of the earthbender and the Kyoshi Warrior of the Avatar’s entourage.
Hakoda could only watch, how Sokka slides off the animal’s back, then helps the girls down before his eyes search for Hahn, who has already spotted him, a tender smile on his usual composed face. As soon as Sokka finds him, he’s beaming at the young man and with a few long strides they’re in front of each other, Hahn’s arms circling Hakoda’s son gently as he pulls him into a tight hug, not caring who sees them.
Sokka buries his head in the crook of Hahn’s neck and Hakoda can see how his shoulders lift as he breathes him in.
It’s touching and also a very, very strange sight to see.
They loosen the embrace only to rest their foreheads against each other.
“I missed you”, Sokka says, quietly but heartfelt.
Hahn’s hands come up to cradle the back of his neck, before he presses a little kiss to Sokka’s temple.
“I missed you too.”
The whole exchange looks – despite how foreign it is for Hakoda – very natural and easy. It’s not a display, it’s just… them. He doesn’t know what to make of it. It’s a bit like watching a spirit cross his path in broad daylight.
He almost misses, that Sokka, hand clasped into Hahn’s like it belongs there, turns to him, too caught up is he in his thoughts.
“Hi, Dad”, he says cheerfully, but there is a nervous undertone that’s not entirely lost on Hakoda.
“Hello son”, it sounds a bit stiff and almost like a question, but Hakoda hopes that his smile is at least a little bit convincing. After all, he is happy to see Sokka.
“So, uh… you two have met.”
Hakoda nods and Hahn makes a face that looks like he’s trying not to laugh.
“We were discussing strategies”, Hakoda says.
He feels like a fool because it sounds almost like he wants to prove to Sokka that he’s able to handle this situation. Which he might be, though he probably doesn’t excel at it.
“Don’t stop on behalf. We’re probably going to be here for a few days until the comet arrives, so I can help out if need be.”
Hakoda nods quietly, while Sokka leans slightly against Hahn and they exchange a glance. His son looks at Hahn how Kya used to look at him, and that hits particularly hard because Sokka is basically the spotting image of his mother. Hakoda takes a deep breath, feels pressure behind his eyes and tries to calm himself. Kya wouldn’t mind that new shape of Sokka’s life. He misses her every hour of every day but right in this moment he misses her even more.
It is as upsetting as it is consoling that Hahn looks at Sokka like Hakoda thinks he looked at his late wife.
The Fire Nation is testing the waters. They know that the comet is approaching and they want to find any weaknesses to exploit in advance. Throughout the following days there are little attacks on the fleet mostly on the scouting vessels, but they also came after one of Hahn’s ships.
The man can fight, that’s undeniable. Hakoda hasn’t been there, but Bato was and he trusts his opinion. Calm under pressure, quick on his feet. That’s what Bato said. Hahn is not unnecessarily brutal, but very effective. A good commander and a good warrior. A good man.
That’s the hardest part.
He watches Sokka and his betrothed standing near one of the fires, laughing quietly with some of Hahn’s lieutenants. Then Hahn says something and Sokka smiles at him. Then, without hesitation he gets onto the tips of his feet and presses a gentle kiss against Hahn’s cheek.
It’s a small gesture, but Hakoda’s chest tightens anyway.
He has hoped that Sokka would be discreet. He didn’t ask Sokka to hide who he was, but Hakoda has hoped for his own sake, that Sokka would refrain from any display of affection. He knows that it’s not fair. They are not performing or defiant, but it’s that ease between them that freaks him out.
It’s them leaning towards each other as if it’s perfectly normal, while he still struggles to wrap his head around the idea that apparently not all men like that are soft and unsuited for blood or battle.
It’s giving him a headache. It’s not what he learned.
A Southern warrior who passes by mutters something under his breath. From the looks and Sokka’s smile faltering for a millisecond it’s nothing kind.
The Northern warriors throw a questioning look at their leader, but Hahn doesn’t comment. He places his hand at the small of Sokka’s back, in a way that is not even protective, just- supportive. It doesn’t seem to be a problem for the Northerners. They don’t question Hahn or his decisions. They trust him and apparently, they don’t care who he loves.
That probably makes them better than him, Hakoda thinks begrudgingly.
At first, Hakoda tries to ignore it. It’s little bits and pieces, a laugh here, a muttered word there. It’s never supposed to reach his ears, though his men aren’t exactly subtle.
“Never seen a man get that close to another without throwing a punch.”
“I wouldn’t be able to follow a troop leader who’s… that.”
“Maybe they all are. Maybe that’s a common thing there.”
“I bet Sokka fit right in there.”
Hakoda hears them, but he lets it slip. After all, this is what Sokka has chosen when he decided to accept Hahn’s proposal. Living openly like that came with consequences.
It bothers him though, his jaw tightening every time he hears someone make a comment.
The worst is that Sokka does nothing else to deserve criticism. As long as he’s staying with them, he goes on night patrols, fights off the Fire Nation scouting parties, stays up until he’s sure everybody who gets wounded gets medical care, goes hunting, repairs a signal rig so other ships won’t be caught unaware, and he doesn’t ask for anything in return.
Hakoda sees all of those things, but his men only seem to see that Sokka is wrong-shaped. It bothers him increasingly.
He hears the comment when he sees Sokka at the far end of the camp as he crouches down to help refixing the lines of a Northerners tent.
“I guess he loves getting on his knees for the North, am I right?”
The words are followed by howling laughter and Hakoda stops in his track. The world seems to go very quite around this one statement and cold fury rises within him. The Chief turns slowly, but his hands are balled into fists.
The man lounges close by the fire, a bottle of prune-rum in his hand. He’s one of the crew members who’s done and risked far less than the boy he’s belittling.
“Say that again”, Hakoda says, his voice tinged with restraint and something dangerous.
The man’s eyes widen and he sits up straight.
“Chief, I didn’t-“
“Say it again”, he repeats.
“It was just a joke”, the man says helplessly and gulps when Hakoda steps closer and glares at him.
“You speak of my son, who has been fighting by the side of Avatar Aang ever since he emerged from that iceberg. He fought and bled for a better world, and none of us would even be here without him.” Hakoda manages to keep his voice calm, but the man shifts uncomfortably and his comrades have the decency to look ashamed. “And you reduce him to a joke, because it makes you feel superior.”
The warrior, who is just a few years older than Sokka opens his mouth, if to argue or to apologize, Hakoda doesn’t care.
“You will stop those insults. Or you will leave my command.”
The man’s eyes widen and he straightens.
“Yes, Sir.”
Hakoda hums and throws another disapproving look at him, before he motions for the group of young men to get out of his sight.
Then, he lets out a heavy breath. He didn’t want to interfere, it just happened. It just wasn’t right that people talked about Sokka and Hahn as if they were worth less. Hakoda knows - and the shame of it makes him cringe - that he would have probably said the same things, if he was younger and if the target wasn’t his own son. But for the first time it feels like he isn’t betraying his own values by stepping up for him.
He startles when a hand hits him jovially on his shoulder.
“Well done”, Bato says.
“I lost my temper.”
His second in command hums. “No, you used it. They needed to hear that. And Sokka needed someone to say it.”
Hakoda wipes his hand over his face.
“I should’ve probably said something sooner.”
Bato shrugs, but he doesn’t reproach him.
“I told myself if he wants to live like that, he has to deal with it. Now I realize that I was trying to make things easier for myself.” Hakoda grimaces. “I still don’t understand it. I’m not sure if I ever will.”
“You don’t have to understand it, just be there for him.”
Hakoda gulps and nods. “He’s already much braver than I ever was at his age.”
Bato pets his shoulder. “And he’s stubborn as ice. Just like his father.”
Hakoda throws a critical look at his second in command and they both chuckle. He’s not at peace, not yet, but he thinks, as he glances at Hahn and his son standing close and look deeply in love with each other, he might be heading in the right direction.