AN: This Prolog has been heavily edited and revised. The original was... well... not good. It was long and dry and the diction was unnatural. The re-write is still a bit long, but I hope it's more entertaining and has a slightly different feel to it. And yeah, the whole thing is basically a big cheater move for me to ease into the AU environment I've created. Because in case the summary didn't clue you in, that's what this is. An AU.

I will be going through each already posted chapter and making edits and revisions (and I will do ALL of them before a new chapter is added...). The backbone should remain the same, but the quality should be upped a bit, and the potential for plot-holes will hopefully be significantly diminished.

This edit was uploaded December 18, 2011.

Pragmatic

An A:TLA Fic brought to you by:

Electric Risk

Prolog

Katara; Daughter of Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe

When I was a little girl, my mother used to tell me fairytales. They always began "Once upon a time." They were always magical and romantic, and full of adventure and danger. There was always a prince and and always a princess, and always, always a "happily ever after." I used to dream about becoming one of those daring girls from her stories, because the way my mother told them, it was always the girl doing the rescuing, and finding true love.

Of course, hearing a story is one thing. Living it, I've come to find, is something else all together…

Once upon a time, there was a war that waged for years and years. One by one, all the men in the Southern Water Tribe went off to fight. The village fell to shambles and the Fire Nation raids left its people devastated. This Great War raged for one-hundred years and seemed like it would never end… but one day, finally, it did. The Fire Lord was overthrown by his older brother, a disgraced war general, with the Fire Lord's eldest child, the crown price, at his side, and together the set the world to rights again… Or tried to. Some say it was too little, too late. Others are so tired of war that they refuse to consider picking up arms again.

I was only fifteen when it ended. I'd lost my mother to a raid when I was still very much a child, and was the last remaining waterbender in the Southern Water Tribe. The rest of my would-be-peers were kidnapped or killed, mostly before I was born. I was forced to teach myself whenever I could find the time, and there wasn't much. Since my father had gone off to fight and my mother was long dead, the job of caretaking my brother and I fell to my maternal grandmother, Gran-Gran. She, being old though very hail, and the village needed my and Sokka's help - each year the responsibilities seemed to double. It wasn't much of a childhood, the way we lived, but at least keeping myself busy with chores gave me a way to keep my mind off of the frontlines, and whether or not I would ever see my father again.

During the day we always spoke in affirmations; "When the war ends…", or "When the men come home…" But at night, all I had were nightmares.

Many of our men did die in the Great War, reducing the majority of our population to the very old and the very young. But Sokka and I were lucky; our dad made it back home. Mostly, he was alright. He was in good spirits and seemed very happy, if tired. Still, he'd lost an eye and was left with a long, jagged scar down the right side of his face. Even though he took to wearing an eye patch, the scar was an ever-present reminder of what he'd seen and suffered. Dad never wanted to talk about it, but this didn't bother me. I had little interest in asking questions anyway because it wasn't hard to guess that he lost it at the hands of a Fire Nation soldier. I'm just thankful that was all he lost.

Though he'd been gone for years, he slipped back into father-mode quickly… if a little uneasily. Gran-Gran always said I had problems with authority, but then I especially had issues with her authority during his absence.

Gran-Gran had the most wonderful stories (almost as good as my mother's fairytales), good advice, and was excellent at putting Sokka in his place, but she was very prone to being overprotective. I know that she'd seen more hardship in her life than I can imagine, but that didn't make it any easier for me. She treated me like glass and disapproved of my waterbending, afraid it would "get me into trouble" some day. The Fire Nation used to believe the Avatar cycle had continued into the waterbenders and they tried their hardest to flush us out and eliminate whoever could be deemed a "threat". It took fifty years for them to realize their mistake and longer still for them to give up. Who or where the Avatar is remains a mystery, but, regardless, the Fire Nation no longer had any interest in hunting waterbenders. What's more, our tiny, dilapidated village wasn't worth targeting. I had nothing to fear, and neither did Gran-Gran – not that she'd listen to reason. What she didn't understand was that to deny bending was like denying the body oxygen. Not a moment passed while I was at home when I couldn't feel the tug of the ocean and the pull of the moon, pulsing like the blood in my veins.

Dad resumed his place as Chief of the Southern Water Tribe, a position which had only been strengthened by his wartime exploits. He also arranged tutelage for me under a waterbending master. This master was from the North and his name was Kuto. I'm told he studied under a veritable waterbending legend in the Northern Water Tribe and, dad told me, that his skills had been plenty tested during the war.

To be blunt, if I hadn't been so desperate for a proper education, I would've sooner sent Master Kuto adrift on a rouge iceberg than give him the time of day. My dad had to call in a favor in order to convince him to train me, what with my being such a pitiable, not-as-fit-for-learning girl. He became more amenable to the idea, I think, when he realized he could use it as a campaign to humiliate me. Apparently in the great and advanced North, women are considered too delicately natured to learn defensive and offensive moves, to learn anything other than to heal wounds or midwifery. I'd never been treated like that before; resources were so scarce here in the South that we couldn't afford to exercise such stupid policies. I mean, sure, Gran-Gran was a bit too protective, but it had nothing to do with my sex and everything to do with a war full of blood thirsty, waterbender hating Fire Nation soldiers.

But Kuto was all I had and as long as he was willing to teach me, I was going to learn.

Once I became his student, and once he'd put me in my place more times than I care to say, I developed a begrudging respect for the man. My dad hadn't lied; Kuto was talented, and not just in combat either. Men didn't normally learn how to heal, but as women couldn't possibly be of any use in battle, Kuto learned that particular art out of necessity. But… that said, I was pretty talented too. I reached master status myself in only a few short months. Master Kuto accounted it to the nearly sixteen years build-up of latent bending energy that I hadn't been properly trained to release before. Still, even Master Kuto admitted it was "mildly impressive for a girl", which was the closest thing to a compliment I'd ever gotten from him.

Life was fantastic, idyllic even. With our family reunited, the village slowly rebuilding, and my waterbending mastered, my dad decided we should take a world tour of sorts. It was supposed to be an extended expedition to other cities and nations meant to educate Sokka and I, to show us other ways of life. Dad didn't directly say it, but I think he wanted particularly to give Sokka a broadened outlook on the world because someday he will take our dad's place as chief –hopefully a long, long time from now. Sokka was of course crazy with excitement (I can't say that I wasn't either). He said he was looking forward to finding and learning foreign combat styles, but I have a hunch he was far more interested in finding foreign girls.

My poor brother (and poor me too, for that matter). When the men left for the war, my brother had been the eldest male and I had been the closest to him in age, the oldest girl-child. Only the elderly, mothers and their very young children were left. No other girls had been around Sokka's age (just as there had been no boys around mine). Now that he was past the age of marriage (sixteen for boys, fifteen for girls), he felt altogether deprived. On occasion he liked to inform me what a "lady's man" he would be, if ever given the proper opportunity. I was unconvinced.

I was under the impression that no girl, regardless of nationality, could stand my brother and his utter pig-like male chauvinism, which only got worse while dad was gone, making Sokka "the man" of the village. I had developed my own shoddy version of the water whip during those war days for the sole purpose of putting him in his place whenever he overstepped his bounds. Which, lucky for my bending practice, was obscenely often.

My dad's eye made it difficult for him to man our boat (a decommissioned war vessel), even with my brother's and my help. So it was decided that my dad's good friend Bato would join us. (Master Kuto was left in charge of the village during our absence, even though I protested every chance I got. It took dad three days to convince me that Kuto wouldn't immediately begin to oppress women once we left.) Sokka and I weren't disappointed with the addition of Bato; the man was like an uncle to us. We'd felt so grateful when he, too, had returned from the war in good health.

Together, we embarked on the first leg of our journey to the Earth Kingdom. We decided to leave in late summer as the waters were still somewhat temperate. It also allowed us to arrive in warmer climates before the onset of harsher weather at home. The day we left was clear and crisp. I still remember hearing the water lapping at our boat and feel the wind tug it to life, the excitement I felt at leaving home for the very first time. I took to life on the boat like a fish to water, and loved the places we visited even more.

The trip had another benefit: Sokka and I got the chance to really reconnect with our dad. It was kind of amazing to see how similar Sokka and dad could be at times (they both had the wit of dried seaweed, Bato once said). During the War Sokka seemed to take the weight of the world on his shoulders, so it was great to see him finally start to relax a little. We talked of the brief, good times before the War drove them to fight and how good life would be now that it was all over. I wondered if my dad would ever remarry, but hadn't had the courage to ask him. I didn't want to think of him still sad and mourning our mother, or, even worse, that he intended to look for a new wife as soon as we were settled.

It was during our visit to the Kyoshi Island that things really got interesting. My brother openly insulted the much-famed Kyoshi Warriors as they trained in their dojo (I don't know all the details, but I believe he referred to their training as "dance practice"). Allow me, at this point, to reiterate one very obvious point: Sokka is a pig.

The Kyoshi Warriors, as most know, are a band of fighters formed entirely of women. After their leader put Sokka in his place (multiple times) in hand-to-hand combat, he finally admitted their superiority and shocked everyone by asking to be taken on as a student. He even agreed to wear the ceremonial garb, which was essentially an armored dress complete with very feminine war make up. I had a local artist take a very unflattering rendering of him for future blackmailing purposes, if the need ever arose. My dad called me a "cruel opportunist", but the look on Sokka's face when he found out about it was absolutely priceless. …I never told Sokka, but I really was proud of him. There may be hope for him yet.

Suki, the leader who defeated Sokka with dazzling humiliation, decided after befriending all of us to join our trip to see the world. My dad and Bato eagerly agreed because they felt I could use a female friend and Suki was around my age. We got along well, but it soon became evident that she got along far better with Sokka. I was a little shocked when she confided in me her crush on my brother, but evidently they forged some kind of mutual respect during the time they trained together. I was happy for my brother, if not a little baffled that he could win the affections of someone so full of female empowerment. It made me wonder if there was more to Sokka than I realized and I hoped that Suki would have a good influence on him.

I enjoyed watching them coexist awkwardly in the first days of their courtship, neither sure what to do with their feelings because neither had been in this position before. Once, on dad's orders (he, too, as it turned out, had an over protective streak in him), I followed the two of them as they went off together in a port town we stopped in to re-supply our ship. I watched them hold hands and speak in soft tones to each other, smiling at each other like there was nothing in the world better to look at. I decided, as my brother leaned in to kiss her in a deserted corridor, that my job as my dad's spy was over. I had no right to intrude on Sokka's special moments… nor did I have any particular desire to see my big brother suck face. When I got back to the ship I just told dad they held hands and blushed like mad every time someone commented on the "cute couple", which was what used to happen. They got acclimated to the concept of each other as a couple fast.

For some reason, seeing them so happy together upset me. Don't get me wrong; I was thrilled that my brother fell in love, and with a girl who would never let him get away with anything, but... it made me all too aware that I didn't have anyone. That hadn't ever bothered me much before. Yes, I had always been a romantic, inspired by the love stories my mother and Gran-Gran used to tell me, but love always was something far away that I could dream about. It was always something to look forward to when I was older, wiser, and had some sort of "come-hither" quality about me. But as I saw Suki, who was scarcely older than I, and Sokka who was only a year older than her, so in love, I realized that I was older. It hit me like one of Kuto's water whips to the face that I had been of marrying age for nearly a year and I was neither wise nor in possession of the coveted "come-hither" flare.

I moped for days after the realization hit, sighing constantly and driving my dad crazy. My dad then deduced that I was homesick and Bato agreed, (therefore taking both their rightful places among Men Who Cannot for the Life of Them Understand Women). Dad then decided that we had seen enough of the world, declaring it was time to return home. Sokka protested, since we had only toured half the coast of the Earth Kingdom and hadn't even made it inland to the big cities of Ba Sing Se and Omashu, and he only relented after dad promised we could take another tour next summer, provided the village could manage. Bato even agreed to come out with us again saying that after traveling so much during the War, he didn't think he could ever settle for staying in one location too long. By this point we had been gone for two months, and it would be edging into winter upon our return, which meant choppier seas. I was more than happy to help out, however, smoothing the way for our boat with bending.

Suki came home with us, claiming that it was because she was so curious about the Water Tribes and she had little to lay claim to back at Kyoshi. She had already named a successor as the leader of the Kyoshi Warriors, and she had no family left to speak of. Knowing glances passed between my dad, Bato, and I. We all knew that, while she gave very valid reasons, her true desire to return with us rested entirely with Sokka. They were completely moonstruck with each other. Still, we welcomed her with open arms. She had become a part of our family in the month she traveled with us, and Sokka always seemed to be on his best behavior because of her. It was refreshing.

I never did have the heart to tell my dad the real reason I was acting so miserable. It was embarrassing to admit that I was behaving so downtrodden because I had never been in love before. Fifteen was still young! Sixteen was young, too! I had a whole life ahead of me to have tons of steamy love affairs (I especially did not want to admit to my dad my girlish desire of "steamy love affairs", for several obvious reasons.) Still, I didn't mind returning home. I missed Gran-Gran and, had the itch to go penguin sledding, though I haven't done it since I was little.

We stopped at one last port to restock for the journey home, the small Makapu village that sat at the foot of a massive volcano. That was where I met the clairvoyant Aunt Wu. She fell into my favor immediately for an assortment of reasons; one being that Sokka detested the town and their reliance on her "fortune telling hoo-haw" (in large part because Aunt Wu told him he would lead a life of self-inflicted miseries, just based off of his face) and another being that she told me about my future love life.

"I feel a great romance for you," she said, "You will marry a powerful bender."

Needless to say, having my crisis ironed out like that was a huge relief. I wouldn't have to worry because eventually a "great romance" would find me and it would be with a "powerful bender" to boot. After that, I visited Aunt Wu every chance I got until we left. Near the end of our stay though, I started to get the feeling that the psychic was getting a little annoyed with my ever-ready questions. Personally, I believe that she should have been prepared for it, I mean, who else could I ask? Still, I left the port town with elevated spirits and the knowledge that my nonexistent love life would not be permanent. My dad assumed I was happy because we were returning home, but I didn't see any need to correct him.

This partial world tour with my dad, Bato, brother, and who I could only assume to be my future sister-in-law left me with a good sense of self and a deep peace. Life would come and I would greet it with open arms because I was a water-bending master with a great love on the horizon and a reunited family. I was entering a new world of peace and rehabilitation. The future only looked bright, like an always full moon.

Yet, as our home came into view, my stomach turned to lead and ice. Marring the horizon was a Fire Nation warship, black and imposing. For years the sight of those ships only meant death and destruction. Many lay wrecked in the ice drifts surrounding our village as permanent reminders of the hell and darkness that plagued us in the past. Those ships were fossils of a bleak time and seeing one again, so imposing and so alive made me wonder if those times truly ever left.

In a way, I suppose they hadn't.

- Quick side note - I wanted to make the prologue similar to the show's opening with Katara's narration. And like the show, Katara's perspective ends with the opening. The remaining chapters will all be written in third person.

As per the trend of most stories, the plot progresses with each chapter... which should yield more interesting things to come.

Love,

ER