The Path We Stride, an avatar: last airbender fanfic

Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar the Last Airbender or the poem Five Students, but I do own this story in its entirety except of course for the poem.

Title: The Path We Stride

Author: Stardust of Orion

Rating: M

Warnings: Very bleak vision of the future for the gaang. References to death and sometimes violent death, so keep that in mind.

This is also unbeta'd, since I don't yet have a beta reader. I've repeatedly edited, as well as had my sweetie edit, so hopefully it isn't too bad.

Summary: As Sokka's life nears an end, he remembers the friends who passed before him. Deathfic. Mentions of Kataang, Maiko, Sukka, Zutara.

Author's Note: Info. for the poem, which is NOT MINE, is found at the bottom of this fic.

I know this is quite bleak and it is not the way I want to envision things going for the characters in Avatar the Last Airbender; however, I think it is a possiblity that things would not turn out as happily as it appears at the end of the show, so with that in mind, I ended up with this.

Sorry for the OCness on Sokka's part. He is obviously a much different Sokka from the series, due to being much older and leading a much harder life that greatly changed him from the fun-loving, jokester, and sometimes 'dorky' guy we all know. Sorry as well for the lack of transitions too, but I wanted the story to drift a little. Like sometimes our memories and thoughts change quickly from one to another as though they drift back and forth. So it ends up seeming kind of odd at times, but that is kind of what I wanted. Anyways, tell me what you thought.

The Path We Stride

"The sparrow dips in his wheel-rut bath,

The sun grows passionate-eyed,

And boils the dew to smoke by the paddock-path;

As strenuously we stride, -

Five of us; dark He, fair He, dark She, fair She, I

All beating by." [1]

The shadows grow long as I watch ice crystals form along the fur tent flap. Sitting here alone, I can't help but run the events of our lives over and over through my head. I suppose it is what the old do. And I am old, I realize not for the first time. My bones ache, and though it isn't even sundown, I still wish simply to drowse by the fire and think of the past- of old hurts and regrets, of a few simple joys, and a small group of friends.

I suppose ours was not a story which was meant to end with a 'happily ever after.' Like the ancient stories of old- like reality- our tale ends with death.

We still fought and struggled, even after the war, and hoped for a peaceful world. We were so young and dumb. This peaceful world would never fully be realized in our lifetime. Battles were endless, whether it was physical fights or economic struggles or political upheavals. There was always something threatening the world's peace. Where once we had believed that if we could just defeat Fire Lord Ozai the world would regain balance, we now saw through the passing of years that this was too simple an idea. There were too many hurts, too many list of wrongs, too much pride. And so we continued to struggle.

For a few months after the war ended, things were the way they should have been. The world rejoiced that the 100 year war was over. Each nation was caught up in celebrations, the small hints of coming unrest barely recognizable- unseen by those of us who were just happy to finally stop fighting. Even some from the Fire Nation, who believed they should still be the ruling nation with Ozai at the prow, were weary. They too were happy for a time simply to rest. Zuko was crowned Fire Lord and for a brief while he and Mai were happy together, as were Katara and Aang and Suki and I. Then the world erupted in conflict again and we once more gathered together to fight.

We set up the Fire Lord's palace as a base of operations from which we would set out on our many journeys across the nations: sometimes as dignitaries, sometimes as peace-keepers, often as a military force to put down skirmishes that arose between the people of the various nations.

We lived only for this one cause and put our personal lives on hold. It's still strange to me how things worked out, though an old man can discern much that he didn't see when he was young; when he was naive. For some of us, old hurts never fully scarred over, leaving partially open wounds that constantly reminded us of all we had been through and all we hadn't achieved.

Zuko and Mai were the first to experience the harsh reality of this world. Zuko was caught up in political fights, trying to hold his nation together. He wasn't ready to marry yet and so Mai left. She didn't want to simply be the Fire Lord's girlfriend, forgotten by him much of the time because he was so wrapped up in trying to lead his people. Neither did she want to be powerless and unable to state her ideas for the nation without being scorned by the nobility and military. As his wife, she could have at least helped him overcome his nation's demons; could have at least provided family and comfort when he came home. For their part, I have no doubt even all these years later that they did love each other, but forces outside themselves conspired to halt their union before it truly developed. They just couldn't give each other what they needed at that point in life.

While Zuko and Mai struggled, Toph fought her own battles. She had been such a vibrant, youthful girl when first we met her, but of all of us, her story is a perfect example of a person who could never catch a break. She spent the first half of her life trying, outwardly at least, to conform to her parents' standards of beauty and helplessness that was desired for their blind daughter. Even after all the battles she fought- after being a part of the Avatar's set of close friends who helped him save the world- they still thought of her as their poor blind child. The world reflected their notions. People either saw her as just a blind girl or as friend of the Avatar, but never as herself. No one tried to befriend her for any other reason than to become friends with the Avatar. We didn't see the deep pain she was in, so caught up were we in our own struggles and sorrows. Pretty soon that young girl full of spunk was a depressed and bitter teenager that we didn't know how to reach. But Toph never wavered. She continued to stand by us and did at least her share in all things, but the cruelty of this world smacked her harder than most. She became reclusive and only would communicate with a few select people. Despite her great outward strength, and seeming inward strength, I believe she would have passed away at that tender age had it not been for her perceived duty to us. So I guess we kept her going, but it wasn't what I would call living, although none of us did much of that in retrospect. She never married, or even became involved with anyone, so far as any of us knew.

After several years struggling to obtain that elusive peace for the world, Aang came to realize that this lifetime was to be spent constantly trying to bring balance back into the world. Aang could by then see the long, long road ahead. I found Katara weeping in Appa's empty stable one early morning. Aang felt it wasn't right to ask her to stay with him. As the Avatar, the world was his duty above all others and he believed he couldn't give Katara what she needed; what she deserved, so he left to quell a fight, on his own, that had exploded across the northeast corner of the Earth Kingdom, where a city still existed that was mainly Fire Nation. After that, he wandered for a long time, helping wherever he could. He returned to us a little over a year later, but not to Katara. He continued to believe that she would move on; that she would be happier living her life without him.

The most enlightened of all beings and Aang couldn't see what was right in front of him. I was angry at him for such a long time- still am in some ways, I guess. Now I regret it. Our friendship was never quite the same after that fiasco. There was an unspoken tension that existed between us that never went away. I also feel terrible for not being much comfort to my sister at that point in her life. While she dealt with her loss, I began to have my own problems and I'm afraid I wasn't there for her like I should have been.

Suki…how I loved her. Still do. That never went away. We fought side-by-side for a long time when all else seemed to be crumbling around us. She was the bright spot in my journey. We had planned on returning to Kyoshi and marrying after the war, but stood and fought with our friends instead. I don't regret this choice. We would have fought alongside each other forever, but we were denied that by our own mistakes. I couldn't give her stability or marriage, not for a long time, so I urged her to return to Kyoshi and marry elsewhere. We both knew that the struggle for peace in the world would continue for a long time, so we both accepted my words at face value, knowing that she needed to step away from this struggle for the sake of two people. We held each other all night when she finally decided to leave. I kissed her forehead, tears streaming down our faces, and then she was gone. She married a couple months after returning to Kyoshi Island and lived in safety and peace. And so I let my daughter call another man daddy while I continued to struggle to do my duty as best I could.

Tensions reached a boiling point between our little family. We fought each other occasionally but mainly we fought battles within ourselves. Our core group still clung to one another though. Nothing could change that. We were all we had and, in the end, all we needed. The best of friends, dearest companions, family, even lovers sometimes.

Katara and Zuko, to everyone's surprise, finally admitted their attraction for one another. I stumbled upon them making love in the garden, as I wandered restlessly beneath the moonlight. Their love was passionate, but it burned itself out quickly. It could probably have lasted, but both were drowning in regret over their previous relationships. They were each abandoned by the ones they loved and so found solace and comfort in each other's arms. Eventually, they both recognized that they were substituting each other for the people they lost. Since they couldn't let go of their former lovers, they couldn't truly be there for one another. They slowly drifted apart, both realizing what was happening, but neither having the heart to try and change it.

Soon after Zuko and Katara separated, he began receiving pressure to marry and produce an heir to the throne. He returned to Mai and she was only too happy to come back now that he was ready to move on with his life. All was forgiven. They married quickly and ended up having two years of true happiness. They deeply loved one another and soon had a son, Zivon [2], who was their delight and a manifestation of their love. I thank the spirits every day that they at least had real joy, which was denied to most of the rest of us.

"The air is shaken, the high-road hot,

Shadowless swoons the day,

The greens are sobered and cattle at rest; but not

We on our urgent way, -

Four of us; fair She, dark She, fair He, I, are there,

But one - elsewhere." [1]

Sometimes I wake at night to the sound of someone screaming next to me. It takes me a moment before I realize that it is Mai, her screams echoing across the years, still vivid in my mind. The faint sound of Zivon crying at the sound of his mother's anguish also reaches my ears, shadowing Mai's screams. Mai: quiet, aloof, reserved. The sound coming from her soul that day broke all who heard it, even before they saw her blood streaked, trying to hold Zuko up as he slumped to the floor.

And Zuko... When Zuko died, the world stopped. The world stopped and we stopped, or that is what it seemed to us. All was quiet, in shock and sorrow, before chaos exploded around us.

The man- a soldier- who drove the thick sword through Zuko's chest as he and Mai entered the parlor for breakfast, was immediately cut down by the royal guard even as Mai still screamed and we rushed to Zuko's side, the blood beginning to pool; his life already drained away before he slipped from Mai's grasp onto the cold wood floor. By mid-afternoon, after the initial flurry of action and inquiries as to whether the assassin was alone or part of a rogue group, silence descended. The city was silent, Mai was silent, we were silent. Grief was still out of our reach and all we could do was sit numbly by Mai's side as she ceaselessly rocked Zivon or stand guard over our fallen friend now lying in state. Iroh sat next to him the entire week before Zuko was buried, never leaving his side except at the utmost of necessity; never letting go of his hand.

Zuko was buried a week later, still amidst a profound and awed stillness that, had we but known, was merely a precursor to the clamor of civil war. Now we fought to protect Mai and Zivon, not quite a year old. We fought to keep the throne for the heir of the Fire Lord; to safeguard the future of our dear friends' son even as warring factions within the Fire Nation attempted to set up a new Fire Lord or overthrow the government entirely. We struggled to keep other nations' rogue factions out of the Fire Nation as well, as they too fought to topple what they deemed too much of a threat to allow to live, especially with Zuko, friend of the Avatar, now gone. But we managed somehow- we always did. Iroh helped us quell the civil war, but that was apparently all he had left to give. That venerable old man, whom I had come to regard so highly, crumpled under the weight of loss. Losing his son and his nephew, so much like another son to him, was simply too much. The fire literally left him and then he left this world.

"Autumn moulds the hard fruit mellow,

And forward still we press

Through moors, briar-meshed plantations, clay-pits yellow,

As in the spring hours - yes,

Three of us: fair He, fair She, I, as heretofore,

But - fallen one more." [1]

Zuko died at the beginning of summer as the fruit willow's white flower petals drifted down to adorn his grave. When the fruit willow tree began to let go of its brown and yellow leaves in late autumn, Toph died.

Through the summer we were able to quell the worst of the unrest within the Fire Nation, making it a little safer for Mai and Zivon. In our deep grief, it was all we could do for our dear friend. Our little group, now minus one, and a small contingent of Fire Nation soldiers set off to take on a large group of rogue Earth Kingdom benders who were preparing an invasion of the Fire Nation now that it was so unstable. That battle was much worse than we had expected. Perhaps worse than we had experienced before in other battles.

Toph died amid the roar and tumult of this battle, the pulse of sound deafening in our ears. It carried away even our own voices, so that Toph appeared to die with a silent scream on her lips as the giant spear of rock, intended for Katara's back, burst through Toph's abdomen.

As Katara struggled to fight off four earthbenders that were trying to surround her, I saw the fifth take aim, but my sister couldn't hear me cry out to her. I ran for her, though I knew I could never reach her in time. Toph, in her nearly uncanny way knew what was happening too. She placed herself between Katara and certain doom and with that decision sacrificed herself, while at the same time she sent up a wall of earth to block the huge boulder that was flung straight at my head. She saved both our lives and there was no way to repay her; no time even to say thank you.

All we could do, after the battle was finally over, was to carry her silently through the Earth Kingdom and back to her home. Dear little Toph had changed markedly in the years we had known her, but at heart we knew she was still our stalwart friend, and she proved it in her final moments, just as she had done time and time before.

"The leaf drops: earthworms draw it in

At night-time noiselessly,

The fingers of birch and beech are skeleton-thin,

And yet on the beat are we, -

Two of us; fair She, I. But no more left to go

The track we know." [1]

Through the long count of years, we still struggled to put the pieces of the world back together. We continued to journey throughout all the lands, attempting to sow peace and harmony; trying to help each nation politically and economically. Many years passed after we lost dear Zuko and Toph and our grief for them was still with us, though not as painfully sharp as it once had been. Along the way we'd had to say good-bye to Gran Gran and Father, among others. Death was not a constant companion, but one we were well acquainted with. Still, it is never easy to lose someone you love.

Aang took his last gasping breath under the muted winter light of the northern Earth Kingdom. It was early morning and the trees hung over our make-shift camp, stretching out their long, thin branches like hands trying to snatch him away. Katara had fought for seven long months with the disease that was wracking Aang's body, but finally even she couldn't hold him; couldn't keep him from leaving us. Her 'magic water' failed us; failed her, and she never stopped grieving though she went on with her life, just as Aang would have wanted.

She should have been allowed to grieve as his wife, not merely his 'dearest companion,' but Aang never felt it was right to take their relationship that far. Even as the years ticked away and Katara didn't leave his side, he still couldn't bring himself to bind her to him. She should have been allowed the comfort of a child to hold in her arms… Even as he lay dying, I still couldn't quite forgive him for this pain he had unintentionally caused my sister. Now I can't forgive myself for these thoughts. We all made tough decisions. We all lost things that were precious to us. I should have forgiven him while I had the chance. The death of Aang stole just about the last of what I found good and worthwhile in the world, and I have never felt the same since.

When Aang began to get sick, we had once again been in the Fire Nation, helping to settle a dispute between two cities. At that point, Aang's mild exhaustion had not been troubling. We continued to journey all across the nations, which was Aang's wish, even as the months slipped by and it slowly became clear that whatever ailed the Avatar, it was serious. He had grown frail, pain filling his small body, but he carried on happily as long as he could. The last week of Aang's life was spent under the bare-branched forest, simply waiting for what we knew was coming.

Zuko had died suddenly, without warning. Toph- in battle, which, although we always knew was a possibility for any of us, was still sudden. Both of their deaths were unimaginably difficult. Aang's was no different, though we understood in advance that he was going to leave us.

After that day, both of us were too weary to continue journeying like we had before. The worst of the battles had long died away, but we were still left with helping the nations achieve political and economic stability and peace. Katara and I knew this was our duty. We returned to the Southern Water Tribe, though we continued to make the occasional journey to the other nations over the next thirty years when our presence was absolutely needed. Most of the time though, we simply continued the struggle through diplomatic letters.

"Icicles tag the church-aisle leads,

The flag-rope gibbers hoarse,

The home-bound foot-folk wrap their snow-flaked heads,

Yet I still stalk the course -

One of us… Dark and fair He, dark and fair She, gone.

The rest - anon." [1]

I woke three days ago, my bones aching from the terrible cold- silence stretching out interminably. The fire was unlit, there was no smell of seaslug or leopard seal frying to make me wake up salivating, no sound as Katara cleaned or cooked. I remember lying there, desperately wishing I could just go back to sleep. An old man should be able to just sleep. I was incensed when sleep didn't overtake me when I closed my eyes and was left to dread the silence alone.

When I finally looked over at Katara's mat, she was still lying there as I had expected. I was amazed at how much younger she looked. The lines of worry and sorrow that creased her face had slipped away as she drifted peacefully from this world. I held her briefly… my dear little sister…and thanked the spirits that she had merely gone to sleep and not felt any pain.

I laid her to rest, wrapped in furs, in the waters of the ocean- a perfect place for a waterbender to spend eternity. I took her to the spot where so long ago we had found Aang and Appa in the iceberg, forever changing our lives, and gently let her drift down, the dark waters slowly enveloping her. I cried for my sister. I cried for all of us. I cried at being left alone. I am not ashamed of this either.

We grew old together, Katara and I, here in the ice and snow. It had been fitting that we were once again together, just the two of us. We merely had to wait for death to visit one of us, as we knew it would. Now I am glad I am the last of our band of friends. I am grateful that Katara wasn't the last, for the ache of being alone- being left behind- is almost overwhelming, so I find myself sitting here and staring at the fire. There are too many memories I see in the flames, most so old now the details fade, but the emotions are still clear.

Only this morning I received an urgent letter that I had to immediately respond to, giving my advice and my decision. Thus my journey continues along this road, but the world will soon not need me either. Peace- lasting peace amongst the nations is very close now and I am very thankful.

The world wasn't supposed to be this way. We weren't supposed to be this way- to live this way, to die this way, to be separated by so many years and death. None of us were ever really allowed our happily ever after, but now, as I think of the world and of our journeys, I fervently hope that five lifetimes of sacrifice and pain can buy some measure of happiness for our world and that our struggles will have mattered in the long run. The rest I am happy to leave for others to figure out.

Still, when I am gone, there will be none left to keep the memory of us alive. When I pass, so too will they- my dear friends and family. We will finally be gone forever. I always thought I would die as a warrior in battle or on the hunt, not as an old man; certainly not the last of our group.

But I am tired now and wish to rest. I long to see my friends again. They are waiting only for me. But I must carry on; must continue to trod this path- our path- alone, waiting for that 'fore-drawn conclusion.' I know I will follow soon and we will all begin a new journey together once again. This time- this journey- hopefully will be filled with joy, not the sorrow of losing love to death.

Author's Note: Sorry about this getting out much later than I said it would. I was very sick for a couple of weeks and couldn't get this posted. Then for some reason it wouldn't let me post under this particular category. So every day I checked to see if it would again let me post under this fandom and wouldn't you know it, today it finally happened: ON MY BIRTHDAY. Very weird. I certainly didn't expect to post such a depressing and strange fic on my birthday but am very glad to post again under this fandom.

My next story, it turns out, is also featuring Sokka. I must be on some kind of Sokka kick or something. I will have it up in a week, if all goes well. Please review. I am curious what others thought. It is a strange sort of deathfic, I know.

[1] = The poem used is Five Students by Thomas Hardy. It inspired me to write this story, so I wanted to include it here so that you all could read it as well, but I highly encourage you to read more poetry by Thomas Hardy.

Incidentally, I have no idea exactly what is allowed on this site, but since this poem is published in many places, can readily be found on the internet, is studied in schools, and Thomas Hardy passed away in the 1920's, I have decided to use it here, but in no way mean to infringe on its copyright or the right of the estate of Thomas Hardy to this poem. I merely appreciate the poem and was inspired by it.

If anyone can direct me to a place that better says what can and can't be used on this site (when it is a quote or something from another work), I would highly appreciate it because I get a lot of inspiration from poetry and don't want to do something that I shouldn't be doing. The sites guidelines and terms of service don't seem to be very explanatory at times. Or maybe I am just dense. Heh. Probably.

[2] = Zivon is a combo name. I used the name Ziv, which is Hebrew, and Quon, which is Chinese, and came up with Zivon. Both names mean "bright."