Altered | A Genderswap ATLA AU

The Girl in The Iceberg

"Boys are good at fishing. Girls are not." Both were well-perpetuated stereotypes in the Southern Water Tribe. Neither were true, however, for the two teens on a small boat dodging icebergs as they floated down the icy waters, searching for food to bring home.

The boy, Katasi, his dark hair tied in a half ponytail while the rest ended loosely an inch above his shoulder blades because he was "too busy being the man of the house" to cut it, with striking blue eyes portraying a startling amount of sensitivity in them for a tribal teen of his gender, was sitting quietly at the back of the boat, propelling it with his waterbending skills. He wasn't at all developed in these abilities with no waterbenders remaining in the South Pole to teach him since the Fire Nation's past raids, but still it came more natural to him than fishing.

His sister Sokka, however, her hair as dark as his tied up in a high braid ponytail, twisted at the top of her head and the rest of the braid falling to mid-back, and her skin a shade darker than his from her frequent sojourns into the outdoors when her brother was too busy taking up the house chores or practicing his mediocre bending, was wielding a fishing spear. Her eyes were searching for the elusive fish she was hunting. And she was doing just fine, thank you very much!

"Katasi," she sighed. "Can't you make the boat go any faster? The fish are getting away from us again, and I'm huuuuungry."

"Whining isn't attractive, Sokka," Katasi scolded teasingly. "Just focus on your fishing, okay?"

"I'm trying! What do you think I've been doing this whole time, checking my reflection?" snapped Sokka in annoyance, although a second later, she did beam as she glanced into the water to see her pretty face staring back at her.

"Relax, sis, you do realize getting angry will make you wrinkle faster, right?" he kidded.

She grimaced, turning away from her reflection as her attention was grabbed by the sight of a fish swimming right in front of where she sat. "Excuse me? Me, wrinkled? Did you seriously just say that?" she huffed, stabbing wildly with her spear at the fish. "Well, call me what you will, but at least I'm not a girly boy!"

"WHAT?!" Katasi whirled around, his expression horrified then quickly turned furious. "That's not even funny, Sokka! I'm technically the leader of the tribe now that mom's away, and you know what happened with her. People made of her after she took over as chief after Dad was taken away from us, saying she was too soft and feminine to be leading in wartime. What do you think they'll say about me if my own sister is mocking me?!"

His shouts caused her to go silent. She knew her baby brother had his doubts about leading, and it especially hit close to home since part of what he said was true whether he knew it or not. There were often whispers back home how improper it was that she be the one to take up some of the traditionally male duties and some even about her brother that were anything but kind. Still, Sokka would prefer Katasi not find out about them in case it lowered his confidence even more about leading the village if their mother never returned. When she was younger, she'd wondered why she simply couldn't do it; after all, she was older than Katasi and it was traditionally the firstborn who inherited the title of chief. Then her mother explained to her that it was always the firstborn...unless the child was female.

How ironic that being leader was a responsibility she was, not only better suited for, but something she wanted, yet Katasi wasn't and didn't, and still both were getting the short end of the stick in this situation. Maybe Katasi would be ready in the future when he was older, but definitely not now. On one hand, he was all up for taking care of her and Gran Gran, taking care of the house and the chores, making sure they both ate and that Sokka didn't spend too much time out when it was dangerous, but once it came to protecting and caring for the entire village as future chief, he was terrified, she could see it. And she couldn't blame him one bit.