Dividedly Whole Chapter 6

Kenai raised his loaded spoon at an unsuspecting Bumi, aiming for his nose. Katara jerked his arm down before he could flick it. She shook her head sharply. Kenai tossed his spoon back onto his plate, glancing forlornly at the man at the head of the table, babbling about some sort of long-sought-after peace. Kenai turned to Katara.
“I wish Avatar Aang would speak. He hasn’t said two words since the banquet started.” Kenai complained.
“In good time,” Katara answered simply.
Bumi turned his gaze to the wriggling child before him and snorted. “Meanwhile, we can always throw peas at the dignitaries to see if they notice!”
“Bumi,” Katara sighed. “We hardly encourage that sort of-.”
“Have you grown old since the last time I had dinner with you, Lady Katara?” Bumi chuckled, picking up a stray pea from the tablecloth and searching for a victim.
Katara raised an eyebrow. “We’ll see how old I am tomorrow, shall we? Tell him, Zuko.”
Zuko jerked himself attentive by her side. “What?”
She frowned, shaking her head. “Never mind.”
“Now that,” Bumi said, pointing to Zuko and winking at the children, “Is what we call a geezer, ladies and gentlemen.”
“I can’t blame him,” Iroh muttered. “This is boring.”
“Look, all of you impatient people,” Katara said. “The man’s done droning, now pay attention. This is an honor.”
“An honor to be bored to death,” Bumi said gruffly.
“Where’s Uncle Sokka?” Mika whispered to Katara.
“He’s with the other Water Tribe council members,” she answered softly.
“Why aren’t you over there, Mom?” Kenai asked.
She flushed, fumbling with the napkin in her lap. Zuko studied her, his expression stymied by his logic.
“I choose to sit with my family.” Katara answered finally, avoiding her husband’s eyes.
“Aren’t they your family, too?” Mika asked sweetly.
“No.” Zuko retorted, glaring into his pheasant. “They no longer consider her part of them.”
Kenai searched his mother’s face, but he found no further evidence to go against his father’s proclamation. He glanced at the others at their table, grown somber by the comments passed. Even Bumi’s jovial eyes had settled down to a dull grey sheen. Kenai’s focus rested on the water skin at his feet, and he stood abruptly.
“Kenai,” Katara said sharply.
“Well, I’m a part of their family, and they’ll let me sit with them whether they like it or not.” He said resolutely.
“Sit down,” Zuko said stonily.
“Dad, I’m a water bender-.”
“So is your mother and they don’t accept her anymore. Sit down, Kenai. Now.”
Kenai stared back at his father. “I’m going to sit with them. This is a peace conference.”
“He reminds me of someone…” Bumi said, tapping his chin. “Someone I knew a long time ago…”
“Kenai!” Zuko growled.
“Oh!” Bumi exclaimed, snapping his fingers. “I remember now! His name was Prince Zuko!”
“I’m going.” Kenai voiced once more. He swept past his dumbfounded parents to cross the room, his figure radiating tenacity.
Katara shut her gaping jaw. “Should we… stop him?”
Iroh fingered his teacup. “He does have a point, you know. And if there will be any generation to mend the gap of time and war it is theirs.”
Zuko’s fury subsided somewhat; however, he still seethed, “He deliberately disobeyed me!”
“That’s called a revolution.” Bumi cackled.

xxx

“I wish to sup with you.”
Hagoda, closest to the boy, blinked in surprise. He turned expectantly to his son. “Sokka?”
Sokka stopped mid-chew, surfacing his attentions from his food to study Kenai. He glanced across the tables at his sister; she had buried her face into her palms.
Pakku snorted into his drink, which granted a glare from the other occupants of the table.
“Why don’t you sit, son?” Bato asked. His demeanor was always last to spoil.
Sokka opened his mouth to protest, but Kenai had already wedged himself in among his acclaimed family.
“I apologize,” Kenai said politely. “But I don’t know all of your names.”
Kana and Pakku exchanged bewildered stares. Sokka’s brow puckered.
“Kenai,” he began hesitantly, “Why aren’t you with your family?”
“I am with them.” The boy answered defiantly.
“Now if that isn’t Katara shining out through her son there,” Bato said softly, patting Kenai’s hair.

xxx

Aang was called to speak next, but he only informed his slumbering audience that he would speak at the bending demonstrations the following day. A collective groan echoed among the elderly and young. Seeing the glazed expressions being cast dazedly his way, Aang proclaimed that he’d reserve the other speakers for later dinners. He excused himself and went to speak with the Fire Lord’s company.
“Well?” Aang asked, arriving at their table. “Who’s not asleep?”
“Honestly, Aang,” Bumi sighed, “I expected these people to be a little more thrilling.”
“I know,” Aang answered apologetically, taking Kenai’s empty seat. “And I half expected some food to be thrown…” He glanced at Mika. “Oh, but little Mika would never throw food would you?”
She giggled. “No, but Kenai almost did!”
Aang grinned and looked around for the boy. “Where’s-.”
“Causing trouble,” Zuko snapped. “And I blame you for it; what with all this ‘we’re all brothers’ nonsense-.”
“He is doing exactly what this convention should be doing.” Katara stated primly.
Aang narrowed his eyes, confused. “Judging the opposing reactions of each of you… I’d say he’s…” Aang found the object of their discussion at the Water Tribe table. Aang smiled genuinely and steepled his fingers in thought. “Well, I’ll be a hogmonkey’s uncle.”
“Did he do something bad?” Mika asked.
Katara turned to Zuko, glaring at him expectantly. “Did he?”
“No.” Zuko answered, sipping his ale and refusing to meet Katara’s eyes.
“Well…I’m going to go break the ice.” Aang said.
Bumi erupted in laughter. “Ice! Oh, that’s a good one, Aang!”
Aang smirked. “Thanks, Bumi.”  

xxx

“…and there’s a pond in the middle with statues lining the walks. I mean, there are statues everywhere.” Kenai told a fascinated crowd of council members. “And you know the front entrance?”
“Most of us,” Arnook explained patiently. “have never been to the Fire Nation palace.”
“Oh,” Kenai frowned. “Well, why not? I’ve been to both Poles…”
“It brings bad memories.” Sokka spat, his arms still folded across his chest.
“Of… the war?” Kenai pondered.
Bato shook his head sadly. “Our people tend to avoid things that remind them of bad experiences.”
“Such as people.” Kenai retorted. He was beginning to catch the undercurrent in his ‘family’s’ demeanor.
“What do you mean by that?” Pakku asked.
“Such as me… and Mika… and my dad.”
Most of the table suddenly turned to their idle hands in their lap. Sokka, however, did not lower his stern gaze.
“Your father is… treated as he is for a different reason.” Sokka explained.
“Why-.”
“And how’s the food?” Aang asked, triumphantly marching up to their table.
Kenai looked up to him without his usual smile. “It’s a bit cold.” He stood up and stalked away from their table.
Aang watched him leave, his grin fading into a frown. He swiveled back to the seated company. “What just happened?”
“Sokka upset his nephew.” Bato said accusingly.
Aang’s shoulders slumped. “Sokka…”
“He asked for answers; I gave them to him.”