Avatar The Last Airbender Fan Fiction ❯ A Long Overdue Reunion ❯ A Long Overdue Reunion ( One-Shot )

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The salty, crisp air from the sea urged the pregnant vessel of voyagers forward towards a new destination. The ocean is calm now and out of the tempered climates as they now drove through rime and snow; icy masses floating at tall as their sail.

Ah, to many, it would be wondrously cold, but to those on board, it felt akin to home. Many weeks have gone by and still no sight of their sister nation. The village is not too far though.

“Master Pakku, from the ripples of the wave, there should be a major land mass up ahead.” The helmsman approached the elder Watermaster of the vessel.

Not too far, indeed.

“Tell the crew to keep their eyes pealed for any sign of inhabitants. The village is well hidden and small enough to miss.”

With that, the crew went bustling about to prepare for land.

‘Kanna…it’s been so long.’ Pakku thought to himself as he looked out at the vast sea.

The lookout shouted from the highest part of the canoe, shaking the Wastermaster out of his reverie.

“Ah! I see smoke drifting on the east side of the peninsula! I think we found them!”

Pakku stared out in the direction the village was supposedly at when one of his pupils came up to him with a concerned look.

“Sifu Pakku, why are there no men out here to greet us?” Sangbook, a student that was gifted but not to the caliber of Katara, came along for the adventure.

“All the men that would normally greet those approaching their territory have joined the Earth Kingdom against the war. Another good reason for us to help our Sister Tribe in their time of need.”

Seemingly satisfied with his master’s answer, he nodded and headed back toward the sales and helped the men bend water as their propeller.



Having docked off shore, Master Pakku and a few men rowed in on a smaller vessel to the water’s edge and were greeted belatedly by the curious few of the village that heard horns ringing in their arrival. The greetings were warm once they learned that it was their sister tribe from the North that they were expecting, and not some unwelcome navy ship.

Pakku looked around the saw nothing but dessert surrounding the small barrier that protected the village, yet there was a huge gapping hole in the middle that lead straight to the heart of it all.

This will not do. They are wide open to any sort of envision and there is no one here to protect them at all. I’m sure the men will know what to do as soon as they port.

The group of men walked with the women of the tribe as they lead the way to their home. Pakku let the young ones walk ahead of him as he observed their interaction as well as his surroundings quite closely.

As they approached the devastated wall, Pakku’s heart couldn’t help but melt at seeing so many eager faces as they walked by; especially those of the children. Many of them may have been expecting to see loved ones from the war or even family from the North; though they didn’t quite get that, the welcome was none the less warm.

The children started gathering around the men with their inquisitive faces, asking them questions from, ‘are you here to beat the Fire Nation’ to ‘will you take us Penguin Sledging?’
‘Gee, I wonder who taught them that?’ Pakku thought mischievously as he walked past another group of children being entertained by one of his former pupil’s water bending skill.

Pakku was looking around within the village and noticed that most he the women and their children dwelled in simple tents that were made out of Seal-turtle hide and other natural materials used long ago. Their main meeting structure was a basic ice igloo structure that has been deemed obsolete among the vast populations of the Northern Water Tribe Civilization. As he looked around the village, the simplicity struck him as odd but yet as he watch how the people interacted with his own men, he knew already that such a place should not be over looked.

‘Despite the lack of ice-water locks, grand icy architecture and size, these people are welcoming to total strangers in a different manner than our own and don’t need all the extravagant things that we take for granted, yet have on a daily basis.’ Pakku thought in reverence. ‘They can probably teach us a few things that we forgot as we advanced and grew.’

Pakku saw an open fire pit in the middle of town and decided to warm his hands a bit by flame. No one was around. presumably everyone that once occupied this space is off welcoming the rest of his crew and left a steaming pot of stew over the fire for a low simmer.

He reached for the top of with a gloved hand and looked at its contents, just a bit curious at to what was cooking. As soon as he lifted the top a warm mist of rose towards his peering face and instantly he recognized the aroma.

“Umm…just like I remembered it.” Pakku reminisced as he took another huge whiff before replacing the top. ‘She would always make stew or soup on biting cold days just like our mothers would. I wonder if this is her-’

Before he could finish his thought, Pakku felt a slight tug at the base of his sleeve and looked down to find a very quizzical expression upon a young girl - no older than 4 years of age - peering us at him with finger in her mouth.

Pakku beamed down at the little one and asked her, “Is there something that I may help you with, young lady?”

The little girl broke out in a toothy grin before asking a question her own.

“Um, mister?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I have some stew? My mommy said I could but I need one of the older people that could reach to give it to me.”

“I’d gladly oblige.” Pakku patted the little girls head and couldn’t help but smile as he looked at her. “Where may I find a ladle and bowl for the stew?”

The little girl’s broad smile broadened and then went through an serious of looking blank, then of deep thought before it brightened up once again with vigorous nodding of her head.

Still clutching onto Pakku’s parka sleeve, she lead the way expertly toward the biggest tent of the village; leaning down to her height where her grip was comfortable as she guided him and trying to keep in sync with her step.

Finally stopping before the largest tent in the back of the village, - not too far of a journey, but it could be if you were tugged by a 4 year old - Pakku looked at the tent feeling something was caught between his stomach and throat. Though he didn’t need to ask he had to make sure.

“Whose tent does this belong to?”

“That’s Gran-Gran’s tent! She’s the oldest in the village but she makes all the best foods!” The youthful girl replied with such excitement.

“ I remember.” Pakku replied unconsciously as he walked forward.

The little girl looked at him in question but preceded to explain the situation at hand.

“I would come with you mister, but Gran-Gran doesn’t like to be interrupted when she’s cooking. Believe me, I know. She gets mad sometimes.”

“I remember that, too.” Pakku said with a slight smile as he remembered Kanna whacking his hand one instance when he wanted to preemptive taste. “I’ll be careful.”

“ ‘kay. I’ll wait here!” She called out a few meters behind him as he approached the closed tent flap.

Pakku paused as he had his hand on the flap, a flood of old memories of them growing up invaded his mind. The last time he felt this nervous about meeting her was when he presented her with the betrothal necklace so many years ago. He was once again in those shoes but for a different reason; a man now, a Master even, not a youth in love. Taking a few deep breaths, Pakku opened the flap and tentatively peeked inside.

The tent was dark, yet warmer than the outside temperature because of the flames within. His nose was instantly assaulted by the aromas emanated from within the pots around the tent, reminding him of food he hasn’t eaten since the beginning of their long voyage south. His vision was obscured by the darkness as well as the steam clouding the atmosphere within the tent yet he saw a swaying figure humming to herself in one corner stirring something in front of her.

Pakku felt jitter again as he tried to straightened himself out and as he was about to speak, a voice rang clearer.

“Sora, I thought I told you and the others not to disturb me while I was cooking. I have a large batch of turtle-seal stew as well as herring-tuna jerky to be mindful of. Go back out side and play.” Kanna stated with a firm voice, not once looking up or halting her task, but continued to hum as soon as she was done with her lecture.

‘Always the voice of authority, especially in the kitchen.’ Pakku thought to himself as he fully opened the flap and let himself in.

“She only wanted a ladle for the stew that is simmering deliciously outside.” Pakku managed to say calmly.

Pakku instantly heard her put down her pot and turned away from it to face him. Still clutching the ladle, she squinted to see if her ears were playing tricks on her but widened them as she realized it was no trick.

A weathered hand flew to her mouth in confusion as she looked upon the man that stood in her doorway; taking the place of the boy that she was once promised to all 60 years ago.

“I can’t believe it…Pakku.”

“Kanna.” Pakku finally managed to say as he looked at the love of his life from so long ago. Though now, an aged shell of an woman encompassed the girl he was once to marry, yet her eyes still shone with the same vibrancy and exuberance, only with more stories of the life she led without him.

They stared at each other for a few moments before either one made any move. Looking at each other, not as the Southern Water Tribe’s Eldest nor the Northern Water Tribe’s Water Master, but as once true childhood friends, kinsman and possible lovers.

“Kanna, I-” Pakku started but didn’t know where to go from there.
He watched as a range of emotions played upon her face like a ripple upon a still water - from the same nostalgia probably displayed earlier - then all the emotions in between that and anger as the final wave of a tsunami that crashed down upon her.

Without warning, the ladle flew in his direction and nailed square in the middle of the forehead; leaving a nice round red mark in its wake.
“I can see where Katara gets her temper from.”

Anticipating that that was probably not the smartest comment to make at a very irate Water Tribe Elder, he had enough sense to duck and back away from the tent just in case another ladle came his way. Unfortunately for him as he was turning his back and leaving the tent completely, another bowl came flying to true to its aim and smack on the back of the Water Master’s Head.

Little Sora watch a whole ordeal from the sidelines and as she saw the kind old man exiting out of the tent with a new bruise forming on his forehead as well as him holding the utensils needed for the task. She quickly ran up with such an eager face before asking him the only obvious question a 4 year old can think of in a situation such as these.

“Where’s your bowl?”

As if on cue, another bowl came flying out of the tent but luckily for him, he knew that was coming and bended the snow to create a barrier for the assaulting cooking ware, willing it to land perfectly with in grasp.

He gingerly handed the bowl to her, too indignant to acknowledge that anything out of the norm happened and guided the little girl towards the steaming stew; Little Sora watching the whole exchange in awe and wonder.

As he ladled the delicious substance into her bowl first, then his own, they both settled by the fire and the bright little 4 year old chimed in:“I told you she would be mad.” She giggled as she looked at the welt forming at the center of the Watermaster‘s forehead.

“Child, you don‘t know the extent of it.” he said as he dug in warily.