The Seconded Waterbender(Avatar FF)

Book One: Water [The boy in the Iceberg.]

He sat in the canoe opposite Sokka and Katara, one hand resting lazily against the worn wood as the other dipped briefly into the frigid water, more out of habit than need. A faint smirk tugged at Marius' mouth as he watched Sokka's exaggerated movements, the boy's determination far outpacing his actual skill. The wind tugged gently at his long, ink-black hair, strands brushing against the thick white fur lining of his hood, which rested against his shoulders. 

His blue parka—lined heavily for the cold—fit snug at the waist, built for endurance against the biting Southern winds, while matching pants disappeared into sturdy brown boots braced firmly against the canoe's base. "They're not getting away from me this time. Watch and learn Katara, Marius." Sokka declared, lifting his fishing spear high with all the confidence of a seasoned hunter. "This is how you catch a fish."

Katara glanced toward Marius, her bright eyes flickering with a mix of curiosity and quiet determination before shifting back to the water. Beneath the surface, a fish glided through the shifting currents, just visible enough to tempt her focus. Carefully, she pulled off her glove, the cold biting instantly at her fingers, and began to lift the water—slowly, carefully—cupping the fish within its liquid cradle.

Marius watched the motion with a critical but approving eye, though he rolled his eyes slightly when Katara tried to draw Sokka's attention instead of securing the catch first. He leaned back a fraction, folding his arms loosely as Sokka peered uselessly into the water.

"I could already smell it cooking," Sokka said, scanning the surface as if sheer will might summon fish into his grasp. Behind him, Katara held her catch suspended, a small victory trembling in her control. "Sokka, I caught one," she said, a note of triumph slipping into her voice. 

She lifted the water higher, aiming to show him—but her concentration faltered for the smallest moment. The delicate balance broke. The water collapsed. It crashed over Sokka's head in a cold, soaking splash, the fish slipping free and vanishing back into the depths. "Ah! Why is it that when you play with magic water, I get wet?" Sokka sputtered, shaking himself like an irritated animal.

Katara frowned, crossing her arms despite the lingering chill in her fingers. "It's not magic water, it's waterbending." Marius gave a small nod, pushing himself upright again, his expression calm but firm. "She's right, little wolf," he said, voice steady, carrying the quiet authority of someone who had lived it. "And with some serious practice, she could be an amazing bender."

With that, he shifted his grip on his spear and pulled it smoothly from the water. Several fish skewered along its length wriggled weakly, silver bodies catching the pale light. "Ah! How did you do that?" Sokka demanded, pointing at him, equal parts outrage and disbelief. Marius shrugged lightly, as if it were nothing. "I used to live at the Northern Water Tribe," he said simply. "Fishing is something everyone learns."

Sokka didn't look impressed—he rarely did when it came to Marius—but there was less hostility there now than there had been when they first met. That, at least, was something. Marius had never needed the boy's approval, only his trust—and even that had taken time. He remembered it clearly. The first day he'd arrived in the Southern village, taller, older, broader than anyone left to defend it. 

Sokka had been barely ten, small but fierce, gripping a boomerang that looked too large for his hands. The boy had come at him without hesitation, fear masked by stubborn bravery. Marius had disarmed him easily—too easily—and Sokka had gone down face-first into the snow. For nearly a week after Marius had declared he would stay and help, Sokka hadn't spoken to him. Wouldn't even look at him.

Marius hadn't taken offense. Trust, he knew, wasn't something you demanded—it was something you earned. Katara's sudden shout of fear snapped him back to the present. His head lifted instantly, body reacting before thought could catch up. The water around him shifted as he reached out with practiced ease, bending it to steady their canoe while his gaze locked onto the siblings' boat.