Daughter of the Devil

A/N: Hey everyone! Kat here! I have a little head-cannon going on that Noatak was actually married and had a daughter before ever leaving the North Pole. After he left Yakone and Tarrlok, he found another small village where he lived until his wife Kasei (pronounced Ka-Sigh) died. He and his daughter moved away from the village and to a house out on the tundra. In this, his daughter is about thirteen. Happy reading! Review, loves!

Disclaimer: I don't own the Legend of Korra. It belongs to the lovely people at Nickelodeon and to Mr.s Bryan Konietzko and Mike DiMartino. If I did own A:TLOK, then Book Two would have been here in May, not September!

Rike bit her lip and glared hard at her target. "Hit the tree, Rike. Ten ice daggers, Rike; that's all I'm asking!" her father said angrily.

"I can't do it, Dad! I told you! I'm not a water bender!" Rike shouted angrily. Her father grabbed her wrist and turned her quickly around to face him.

"You have been able to bend water since you were three; don't you dare pretend that you can't bend!" he said, rage dilating his pupils. She huffed and turned back around. Rike placed her left hand on her hip and, with a small flick of her wrist, sent thirty ice daggers shooting straight toward the worn pelt.

She shot her father a glare and crossed her arms, "That okay with you?"

"Come back here, young lady!" he yelled across the tundra. She turned and gave her father a dirty look. "Why would you pretend that you can't bend if you can bend that well?"

"Because, Dad! Because I don't care about bending! Less that half of our society are benders! Shouldn't we only bend in emergency situations?" she said in a frustrated tone.

Noatak sighed, "You have to train yourself. You have to be able to use your bending if you need it."

Rike tapped her foot against the ice, "I'm going home. See you when you get there."

Rike glared at her pot of boiling sea prunes. She spooned two prunes into each of the small ceramic bowls. Rehydrating some jaguar-seal jerky, Rike began to cry and hum slowly. "I miss you, Mom," Rike said quietly into the small bowl of warm water. A warm tear rolled down her face as she squeezed her eyes shut.

"I'm home, Rike," her father said from the room over.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, "In the kitchen." Rike grabbed the small elephant-walrus tusk knife and quickly chopped the now-soft jerky into the sea prune juice. Noatak walked into the kitchen and smiled at his daughter. She turned around to face him, "Hey, Dad, sorry about earlier. Dinner's ready."

She placed the bowls down at the low set table and then seated herself at one end of the table on the nearly flat cushion. "No, Rike, I should be sorry," her father said from the door way. Rike plucked a pair of ivory chopsticks from the small mink-wolf pelt pouch beside the table and stuck them into her bowl. She popped a bit of jerky into her mouth and raised an eyebrow at him. "I was wrong, Rike. Wrong for yelling at you. I just don't get why you hate bending so much; you used to adore it."

Rike swallowed hard and bit down on her lip. "I don't hate bending, Dad. I - I just want to keep everything left of Mom," she said quietly. Noatak sat down beside his daughter and placed his arm around her shoulder.

"I miss her too, baby," Noatak said quietly. Rike's shoulders shook violently. She threw herself onto her father and cried into his shoulder. He gently stroked her kinky black-brown braid-wrapped bun. When Rike finally disconnected herself from her dad, she passed his bowl of sea prunes to him along with another pair of chopsticks. She smiled weakly.

"I'm glad I still have you though, Dad," Rike said through a mouthful of jerky. She grinned at him.

Noatak shook his head and smiled at his daughter, "You are too much like your mother for us to ever forget her."

She raised an eyebrow, "You think? Even though I'm a waterbender like you?"

"Of course. You have the same messy hair, the same grey-blue eyes, the same long eyelashes, and the same sense of humor."

"Dad! You always tell me that I have no sense of humor," Rike said, teary eyes laughing. She giggled.

He chuckled low and smiled warmly, "Exactly." She smiled and slapped his arm. "We don't have to train every day, you know. Maybe only twice a week."

Rike looked up from her stew, eyes wide, "Really!?" Noatak nodded. "Oh, thank you Dad!" she said, hugging her dad. "I love you."

"I love you too, Rike," Noatak said smiling.