Time: 5:45 PM west coast….. weather=…rain, what do you expect?

RAH! My computer is being stupid! Well…. Here is another short story that popped into my head while I was driving home from school. Oops….

Well… I love Sokka…. And Yue… blah blah blah, you have heard me ramble before… yeah yeah okay. Thanks for reading my story, and I hope you enjoy it. Reviews are appreciated. If not , oh well.

Disclaimer: I don't own ATLA. Please stop reminding me.

It was the day after my mother left to visit her old home that my father decided to tell me the very story he had kept secret for so long.

Growing up, my younger brother and I were told the legendary water tribe stories about raids and how the ocean and the moon spirit were the first water benders. Stories like these were what kept me going in this little village.

Mother was the one who would tell me stories of her homeland as well, while my father would sit close and listen. Sometimes he would tell of stories of battles against the old fire lord and tell me of the war that almost took over the world. Of course these were just myths. I never knew of any war in all my nine years and didn't think the world was in war before I was born. Now, looking back, I was foolish not to catch the signs around me.

My mother was an excellent fighter, and taught me a few things, although it was my younger brother who became more interested than me. She also used to tell me how she met my father. It wasn't until I was sixteen until I figured out how they really met, and how many times they were separated and almost killed.

My mother was now due for another child in five months or so, and wanted to visit up north with my younger brother. They were to spend a good week up there and stay with grandma and grandpa. I was sort of relieved at their absence because it gave me some time away from my brother.

My aunt and uncle visited from a little north from here at a temple, which I was told was the old Air Nomad temple, now owned by my uncle.

I was told at a young age that my aunt was a waterbender and my uncle was an airbender. The very last one. I spent all the time I could with him, listening to his stories and secrets of his childhood. He was incredibly younger than my father, but just as comical. I loved my aunt and uncle, and little cousins they brought over. Their oldest son, was an airbender like his father, and constantly showed me what he learned each time I saw him.

That particular night, he and I were chasing the penguins late into the night. Knowing my father would get mad at us, we decided to get back as fast as we could. But, the entire village was circled around the front entrance around a campfire, dancing and singing. My cousin and I joined with eagerness, glad that we weren't going to get in trouble this time.

My uncle Aang got up once everything was over and told a story for us all to hear. Again it was about the war everyone told stories about, and added conviction and humor wherever needed. I was captivated, but thought nothing of the meaning. I looked up at my father from his knee that I was sitting on. He smiled down at me warmly, and hugged me tight.

Uncle Aang continued the story, using his name, Aunt Katara's, some lady named Toph and my father's. I went still. Why would he put my father in a story about war? I looked back up at my father. He half-smirked, but it wasn't from his heart.

"Destiny is a funny thing," he whispered, looking back up at my uncle, who then imitated some person whom I was told from the fire nation.

My father moved me from his knee to a log beside him.

It was then that my aunt Katara got up alongside my uncle and they proceeded to show us a waterbending dance called "The Lover's Last Heartbeat." They told us that it was only able to be done on the full moon, for reasons that were meant for the moon herself.

I watched, amazed, trying to figure out why uncle Aang could both airbend and waterbend. Their motions were mesmerizing to watch, locking me in a beautiful trance.

About halfway through the show I looked to my right and discovered my father was gone. Looking around me, I noticed footprints walking away from our fire pit into the hills of snow. It never even occurred to me that I could have gotten lost in the dark and snow, but I wanted to see where my father went and why he wasn't watching the dance.

I walked for a few minutes and came over a snow bank as fast as my little stumpy legs would carry me. Seeing my father's figure on a snow bank a good seven hundred feet away or so, I stopped. The wind whipped at me, threatening to plow down my small frame, but I dug my feet into the snow, continuing to watch my father. For now, he didn't realize I was here.

His face was turned up towards the sky. Following his direction of vision I looked as well, finding the only thing in the sky was the moon. Confused, I looked back at him. His eyes never left the moon's sight.

The wind was blowing hard against his back, whipping his short hair against him, making his beautiful beads, the ones that I always wished I could have, blow forwards against his face. But still, he continued to look at the moon with such an expression. An expression of sadness that I had never seen upon his face in all my nine years.

"Hey dad," I called out, my voice uneven. It was strange to see your father in a state of sadness, to where it looked like he was just a hard shell left to be controlled by someone else.

Slowly, his head turned towards me, and as if not recognizing me for a second, he just stared. Then his face deflated and he looked at me sadly, starting to walk up to me.

When he reached me, he scooped me up into his strong arms and carried me back to our house without saying so much as a word. It was only when he had taken me into my room and helped me into bed that he finally spoke.

"Would you like to hear a story?" he asked quietly, his voice deep and fatherly.

I looked up into his eyes, still concerned with the sadness that they were carrying.

I nodded my head yes, wondering what story he would tell to me again about the war.

Sitting down on my bed he looked at the wall. "This story happened when I was a teenager. The person this happened to was my friend and he told me the story. Your mother doesn't like it, so I have never told it to you before."

I bowed my head down, afraid to hear what as going to come next.

"He was fifteen and travelling with the Avatar," he said softly, "You know who the Avatar is right?"

I nodded my head yes, from what they taught in school. The Avatar was the protector of all four nations, and was the one that keeps balance between us, wielding the power of all four elements. I secretly hoped I would be able to meet him someday, and maybe he would tell me a story about his life.

"The Avatar needed to master waterbending and so the guy and his sister went to the north pole to find a master."

"Have you ever been to the north pole?" I asked.

"Yes," he said, "Only once."

I would like to visit the north pole someday as well. Would the Avatar be there?

"While up at the north pole, he fell in love with a princess, her name was Yue."

I looked up at him, my eyes shining, "A real princess?" When he nodded, I pursued, "What did she look like?"

He smiled and looked at the wall, his eyes glazing over, as if remembering. "She had long white hair, like the snow, and the bluest eyes my friend had ever seen. And when she smiled, the ocean waves would go silent at her beauty."

A real princess. It was amazing to hear about one. A silence went through the air as my father looked at the wall, never moving.

Finally he shook his head and looked back at me sheepishly, "They were meant to be together, and she loved him very much. Even though she was engaged, she did not love the other guy." He paused again, this time looking at leopardbear rug on the floor. "There was an attack on the north pole by the fire nation. My friend was to protect the princess and keep her safe."

To protect the princess. I wish this story were real, and I could have been the princess.

"An evil firebender found the mortal form of the moon spirit and killed it right in front of my friend's and the princess's eyes."

I looked at him in horror. Kill the moon spirit? That wasn't possible.

My father looked at the wall again, his voice became younger and uneven.

"She decided to give her life to the moon spirit so that it could live again."

"Did she," my voice was small; "did she die?"

"No," he said, his voice cracking, "she became the moon spirit."

No! My eyes were watering now and I choked back a sob. But that didn't stop my body from making its own decisions. I felt my father's strong arms circle around me and hug me tight as I sobbed into his chest.

I felt small drops of water hit the top of my head and sink down through my hair. I didn't pay much attention, for my crying was the only thing I could understand at the moment.

He held me for a very long time, until I grew sleepy from crying so much. He laid me down in my bed, tucking me in, giving me a sad smile through red eyes and kissed my forehead goodnight.

It was a few years until I mentioned it to anyone. Every night on the night of the full moon, I would see my father walk off into the distance, or even hear him sneak out of the house so that he could look at the moon. Some nights I would follow him and watch as he watched the moon.

On a couple of nights I even heard him talking to the air, as if there was someone right beside him. He would look sadly off into the distance and tell the air how he was doing and how the tribe was doing. He would be silent for a moment as if listening and then smile sadly, whispering something I could never hear. It was the same tone he used with my mother, only sadder. It was on nights like these that I only ever saw his sad side.

When I was twelve, I finally did ask aunt Katara about if she knew about the story she looked at my crazy like, then a sad smile washed over her face. She told me that she had been friends with that person as well and that is why she honored the moon spirit on the full moon.

Later I had overheard her talking to uncle Aang as they had taken a midnight walk.

"I never knew Sokka told her about Yue," she murmured, "and if he did, I would only imagine that he wouldn't include himself."

Uncle Aang sighed, "We all miss Yue. I can understand why Sokka never told his children, being the bad memories and all." But he sighed, "But I am glad he decided to tell someone, so that she can remember as well and pass on the story of love and destiny to her children."

That was the very last story my father ever told me. And I was the only child, out of his four, that he ever told. The day I turned fifteen was the night of a full moon.

Once again, during the night, after everyone had gone to bed, he slipped out the front door. I quickly dressed and followed him to his usual perch on the snow bank.

Walking up to him, the snow crunched under my feet, but he didn't shoo me away. Instead he reached down and grabbed my hand.

I finally understood everything now. Why it took until now, I will never know. But all that matters is that I do know.

My father had once said, "Destiny is a funny thing."

Now, as well looked up at the moon, he motioned to his left. I looked over to see a beautiful young woman holding my father's other hand, smiling at me. She was everything he had described to me all those years ago.

"I understand why you fell in love with her," my voice whispered to him.

He looked at her sadly, yet happiness laced in as well, and squeezed my hand.

"Yue," he said to me, his eyes never leaving her face, "I want you to meet princess Yue."

I smiled at her lovingly.

I finally understood.

Destiny is in fact a funny thing.