fixed grief and weary hearts, never play their intended parts

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/24683773.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: Multi
Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Relationship: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Aang/Katara (Avatar), Toph Beifong/Suki, The
Gaang & Zuko (Avatar), Ursa & Zuko (Avatar), Iroh & Zuko (Avatar),
Sokka & Bato, Katara & Sokka (Avatar), brief Yue/Sokka, Hakoda & his
kids, Brief Jet/Zuko, Azula & Zuko (Avatar), Katara & Zuko (Avatar)
Character: Sokka (Avatar), Zuko (Avatar), Hakoda (Avatar), The Gaang (Avatar),
Aang (Avatar), Iroh (Avatar), Bato (Avatar), Ursa (Avatar), Toph Beifong,
Suki (Avatar), Yue (Avatar)
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soulflowers, Soulmate-Identifying
Marks, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Zuko is an Awkward
Turtleduck, Badass Sokka (Avatar), Zuko (Avatar)-centric, Sokka
(Avatar)-centric, Protective Sokka (Avatar), Zuko's Scar (Avatar), Toph
Being Awesome, Language of Flowers, Sibling Bonding, Hurt Zuko
(Avatar), Hurt Sokka, Zuko Has Issues, Slow Burn, Zuko (Avatar)
Needs a Hug, Sokka (Avatar) Needs a Hug, no beta we die like jet
Language: English
Series: Part 1 of follow the spring to the uprising
Collections: avatar tingz, AtLA <50k fics to read, Flameo Hotman Approved, My
Cabbages!!!!, superior atla fics, Qqqqqq115, Fics I need to finish
reading, MoreATLAship, fics that give me life
Stats: Published: 2020-06-12 Completed: 2022-02-12 Words: 68,742
Chapters: 17/17

fixed grief and weary hearts, never play their intended parts
by garnetaches

Summary

Soulflowers are the beauty in pain, the soulmark left from a scar on your soulmate. Its a gift
from the spirits and its supposedly meant to pair you with your perfect half. Sokka's calling
bullshit though and Zuko would be inclined to agree. Soulmates aren't supposed to be
fighting on opposite sides of a war and really shouldn't try to kill each others' friends. Well,
Sokka's friends. Zuko is too awkward and honor-driven to actually have any.

Notes

Alright, I saw this prompt list for soulmate aus and my brain when muahahaha when it saw
#35. You get flowered tattoos wherever your soulmate receives a scar. Of course, who do
you think of when you think of scars? Zuko, the poor gay baby. Hence this whole thing. I
 probably shouldn't be uploading this just yet since I don't have much written but oh wells.
Updates every week or every other week. Just... whenever? We'll wait patiently together.

Here's the link to that prompt list. It's actually so cool and I wouldn't be surprised if I use it
again.
https://thepokyone.tumblr.com/post/167243919772/soulmate-au-list

See the end of the work for more notes

 hollow pains and prying eyes

There are long, reaching petals that cascade down his father’s forearm. They’re the tenderest of
pinks, each bloom clustered together to stop right above the top of his hand. They’re soft but
vibrant and looking at it, no one fits such a flower but his mother.

It’s her soulflower, marked across his father’s body where her own scars lie, and it’s those
particular clusters are relatively new. Sokka had been with Hakoda when it happened, distantly
recalls the ache of worry that had shot through his dad as he cradled his own arm. He’d been
beyond terrified and they knew the accident would scar her before she did, it’s tell decorating
Hakoda’s right arm immediately rather than taking its time to settle in.

Kya has her own clusters of flowers, as simple and sturdy as her husband. She was quite proud of
the blue blooms that danced across her shoulder blades and wore them with just as much pride as
he. She even went the extra mile, often saving up to have them stitched into her clothes in elegant
patterns.

Gifts from Tui and La, Gran-Gran had taught him. The one chance of true love for both you and
your soulmate. He didn’t quite know what to think. He had the flowers, delicate tiny white blooms,
and while he failed to remember the first cluster, he didn’t have them when he was born. Not like
Katara, who already had tall yellow blooms that curled together.

She had a scattering of yellow petals on her palm and she’d taken to caressing it every few
minutes. Sokka didn’t get the obsession, he didn’t stare longingly at his own soulflowers, and
neither did any normal person he knew. It wasn’t even new! Although, she had never had a new
soulflower grow across her skin. Perhaps she was watching it, making sure the petals didn’t wilt
like Gran-Gran’s.

At the end of the day though, he chalked it up to Katara being a girl. A whiny, bossy one at that.
She was always getting him into trouble and her weird little magic trick accidents had left at least a
few flowers for his own soulmate.

He liked to think that his own flowers were fierce. Ooh! Maybe even poisonous. How cool would
that be?! They had to be the coolest, most dangerous flowers. His soulmate was lucky. He had tiny,
girly flowers and just from the look of them, he knew whoever his destined love was, would get
along with his sister.

Said sister gained his attention with a shock of laughter. She was getting the chief of their tribe,
their father, to carry her on his back, leading him like an ostrich horse. He sighed and vowed to
keep his little sister far, far away from his soulmate.

Sokka wonders, mainly when he can’t sleep and is too tired to stop himself, what his soulmate is
like. He has nothing but the white blooms on his body to go off of and even then, he’s not entirely
sure what to make of the soulmarks. There’s not that many of them and the placement is odd for
scars. He’s spent more time than he’d like to admit marveling at them, theorizing a number of
events until he made himself nauseous.
Gran-Gran thought they’d be patient and delicate. His mom thought they’d be strong and resilient.
His dad said all that mattered was if they were kind.

It painted someone too good to be true in his head. Possibly a beautiful girl with a beautiful smile.
She’d be kind and patient and she’d like boomerangs like him.

Or maybe a boy. Bato’s soulmate was a boy and so were a few others’. Maybe his would be too.
Maybe the boy would be brave and resilient and would like to spar. That would be fun!

Katara always ended up freezing him, usually to the ground, when he made them spar. Half the
time he’s pretty sure it’s not even an accident and it’s just a way for her to get out of it. The other
kids in the tribe were too little and the warriors never let him join them.

He decided then that his soulmate had to like all the things he did or he’d throw away the entire
idea of soulmates. He did hope he’d meet them though. At least once. He imagined it was lonely to
wait for someone you didn’t even know for years and years. Like Gran-Gran’s friend, who still
didn’t know the owner of the green flower.

And more than anything, he hoped the flowers never wilted. He didn’t want them to wilt after they
met but especially not before. How else was he supposed to know if his soulmate was a cool
person?

(They were. They had to be. They were his soulmate.)

Once vibrant, lively petals had wilted and faded against his father’s skin. A few others’ in the
village had done the same. It left Sokka reeling at just how much destruction the Fire Nation was
capable of in the span of only a few hours.

They’d left blood-stained snow, burning houses, grieving widows, and parentless children in their
wake. They took his mother away from him. They took his father’s soulmate and his sister’s smile.
All there seemed to be now was death, pain, and black snow.

Bato patted his shoulder, careful of Sokka’s heavily bandaged forearm. He was just another
number in dozens of casualties from today’s attack. He hoped he hadn’t worried his soulmate,
hoped those petals would wait some and he hadn’t hurt his supposed other half. If he had, well, it
was another fault of the Fire Nation.

“You did good today,” Bato told him, trying his best to give a genuine smile. Sokka didn’t blame
him for his struggle. He doubted there would be any smiling in the village for quite some time.

Still, he was brought up with manners and respect. “Thanks.” It was empty but it wasn't more
silence. Like with Bato’s smile, it was the effort that counted.

“Look, Sokka,” He began with a heavy sigh. “Your dad’s gonna be okay. He just needs time and
while he takes it, we’ll make sure you and Katara are okay. Kanna even offered to take in the two
of you for the next few days.”

“We’ll be alright at home. Dad needs us.” He doesn’t hesitate to respond. The gesture is
appreciated but their family has grown smaller today. They need to stick together, protect one
another, and help each other. Running off to Gran-Gran while his father lies comatose in the bed he
and his mother once shared seems cowardly.

Besides, he doubts Katara would be willing to even leave their snow hut. She’s almost been as
lifeless as their father, lying curled up in her cot. It was disturbing, seeing his usually lively sister
so beaten down in her grief. They needed to stick close together now more than ever before.

The man sighs again, leaning over to wrap his arms around the boy. “You’re a good kid, Sokka.”

Sokka leans into his chest and against his will, his eyes begin to burn. His good arm clutches onto
Bato’s sleeve as the tears start to fall. Bato doesn’t say anything and instead rubbing his back as his
shoulders shake so violently. It hits him then that his mom has hugged him for the last time. He’ll
never see her again, never hear her laugh, and she’ll never see him grow up.

He lost his mom today. Killed by a Fire Nation brute in search of any remaining water benders. He
tries to shake the terror that trickles down his spine at the thought of them being attacked again. Of
them taking away his sister just as they took away his mother.

They were more soulless beasts than human, their armor making them look just as demonic as they
were on the inside. It was… it was terrifying. He’s never been so scared in all his life as he was
today. And he swears, if his soulmate is Fire Nation, he’s going to carve out those soulflowers
from his skin. They’re monsters, every last one of them.

“Breathe, kid. You’re alright. You’re safe.” Bato reminds him, making him realize the struggle
he’s having to simply breathe.

He calms, eventually. And his tired and worn out body falls asleep in safe arms. Peace has been
ripped from their tribe just as it’s been from the world and his dreams are quick to get the message.
He dreams of tall demons eating his family and village. He dreams of his soulflowers wilting like
his father’s now have.

Sokka wakes up screaming. Not from any nightmare but from the pain that flashes across the left
side of his face. Anxiety and fear rush throughout his body and soul and he knows what this is.
He’s never felt this before but he’s seen it happen to others.

His dad startles awake and before he knows it, he and his sister are crowding his cot. “It’ll pass,
okay? It’ll be okay. They haven’t wilted. They’re still there.” Hakoda hurriedly tells him, promises
him.

The pain lasts too long. Even Sokka knows that. It means worrying things and Sokka’s brain, for
once, is on his side and refuses to think further than he already has. “How bad?” He croaks, throat
dry and sore.

Katara’s wide, almost terrified eyes tell him it’s at least not good. “I’ll go get the mirror.”

“Sokka, look at me,” His dad gently orders. “It’s bad, son. But the flowers are still there. It means
they’re alive. They’re like you. They’re strong. ”

Katara brings the handheld mirror over to him and he uses the light of the rising sun to see his
reflection. His left eye is overshadowed by a large cluster of white blooms with loose petals
reaching back to his ear as if caught in the wind. If he hadn’t known what caused this, he might
have thought it to be pretty. Instead, all he sees it as is grotesque and the white seems too pure for
what is going to be an awful scar from the looks of it.

His breath gets caught in his throat. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. But they’re fighting. They’re alive. Remember that and hold onto it.” His dad
desperately reassures.

“How?” He shouldn’t take that for granted but the question still stands. How could someone
survive something like that? It doesn’t make sense. He tries to work it out now that he sees it. The
source of injury, if the cluster is anything to go by, is his eye. His soulmate will probably lose it.
But the petals mean it extends further.

Only one thing comes to mind. A burn. He meets Hakoda’s eyes and the man seems to have
reached the same conclusion. “What if they’re killed?” Sokka asks, pained by his own question.

“If they’re still alive, it means they won’t be. You can’t think like that, son. You have to have faith
that they’ll be okay. They’re going to need your support.” He says though Sokka struggles to see
how he could actually not worry about this.

His soulmate was marred so badly that the soulflower hadn’t waited to form. It has struck just as
hard as the fire likely had. And even that was only a theory. He didn’t know. Not for certain. He
hoped his soulmate wasn’t alone, that they had their family looking after them. Maybe their dad
was comforting them like Hakoda was doing now. Maybe they had a sister and she was just as
worried as Katara. He hoped they had a mom that was just as wonderful as his own had been. That
she’d be there for them, whoever they were.

Bato is quick to tell him how badass his soulmate will look and Sokka does his best to seem
amused. He always thought the same but now he doesn’t care. His soulmate can be the lamest,
most boring person on earth, just as long as they’re actually alive.

Gran-Gran takes him aside and they sit together to pray to the spirits. He usually avoided this
spiritual side of his grandmother but for once, he goes with it. Desperate for anything that’ll help
his soulmate.

The worst part is that, obviously, his soulmate was hurt like they were. But Sokka figures the looks
he now gets are pretty up there on the list. It’s annoying at the very best. Some of the elders react
more than he did, some tell him to prepare for the worst, and others act like the soulflowers are as
good as wilted.

He hoped that time would lessen the reaction of the tribe. And eventually, it did. His old pain was
exchanged for a new one, the worry of his soulmate’s life replaced by the worry for his dad’s.

Despite his chagrin at being left behind, he took up his responsibilities. He stepped up as the last
man of their tribe and got better at hunting real quick. His skills came with a few new scars but
none were as drastic as his soulmate’s was sure to be.

He just hoped Katara got better at her freaky bendy crap. He was tired of her freezing him, freezing
the fish, and freezing the boat in the water. One of these days her bending was going to get them
into trouble. He just knew it.
 fractured truths and distant goodbyes
Chapter Summary

Zuko's foundation has always been a little shaky but added fears make it even more so.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Zuko remembers his first soulmark well enough, his youth, and the few years having faded the
memory some. He’d been sitting with his mother, listening to her sing him to sleep when the stems
had slowly come in. The side of his index finger had been itching for a few hours but it hadn’t been
too noticeable. By the time he woke up, there were sharp, violet petals painted across his finger.

Since then, a few more blooms have crept up and used his body like a tapestry. He takes pride in
them, he swears he does, but there are days he’s glad he can hide them. He hates when Azula looks
at them, hates it even more when his father does. It’s just that the soulmarks are between him and
Agni. And, of course, his soulmate. So it’s best to keep it that way.

“The petals are so small! And look how ugly the purple is. Poor Zuzu, your soulmate’s just as
pathetic as you.” Azula taunts, giving him another reason to add to the list of why he should keep
his marks covered.

“Shut up, Azula! At least I have soulmarks!” He snaps in response despite how often his mother
tells him not to engage.

Azula rolls her eyes, not one bit caring. “And? You know what father says. Soulmates carry
weaknesses. I’d never want to be like you anyways.”

“You’re just jealous!” He accuses and he flushes before she can even begin to laugh. It’s a weak
come back and he knows that. He knows he’s weak, she’s better, and everything else she could
possibly say. He just doesn’t need it rubbed in.

And laugh she does. She doubles over as she falls into giggles. “Jealous?! Of you?! As if!”

“What’s going on here?!” His mother, his saving grace, he only tether to this palace, asks. She
storms down the hall towards them, skirts billowing behind her.

Azula straightens up and offers their mother a wide smile. “Nothing, Mother. We were just talking
about soulflowers.”

She offers his sister a once over before facing him, clearly hesitant to put any stock of faith into
Azula’s words. He doesn’t blame her. She’s always lying. The only time she doesn’t is when the
truth hurts more. “Zuko?”

“We’re just talking about soulflowers.” He sighs, knowing it wouldn’t be worth it. His mother and
sister would argue, his sister would seek some form of retribution, usually in the form of public
humiliation, and nothing would really be done. It’s just easier to go with Azula’s lies sometimes.

Ursa doesn’t push further, which he’s thankful for. “Alright then. Azula, your tutor is looking for
you. Zuko, follow me, sweetheart.”

He does as asked, not missing the way Azula glares at their mother. By the soft sigh, he assumes
she doesn’t miss it either. His sister is a mystery and if she weren’t so much like their father, he’d
assume it was all because she’s a girl.

Ursa’s ankle is decorated with wide and open yellow petals. They’re beautiful and they don’t
match any of Ozai’s scars. Zuko knows he shouldn’t ask, probably shouldn’t even know, but he
does.

She takes great lengths to hide the soulmarks. He doubts anyone in court even knows she has them.
They probably assume her body is bare of them just as they speculate Ozai’s is. He’s glad his
parents aren’t soulmates and doesn't think his mother’s gentle nature would ever go well with
Ozai’s cold demeanor.

“Have you met them?” He finally asks after years of keeping the question in the back of his throat.

She goes completely still, as tense as she is around Ozai, and he wants to take it back. He knew it
was a dumb, stupid question. And now he’s hurt his mother. Agni, Azula was right. He really is
useless, isn’t he?

A few moments pass and Zuko spends that time soaking in his shame. Until finally, she answers. “I
grew up with him.”

It steals the breath from his lungs. Soulmates are precious, aren’t they? They’re gifts from Agni
himself that they should never, ever waste. That’s what all those stories say. It’s what the Fire
Sages say. Perhaps Zuko could understand if the flowers were wilted but they’re not. Her soulmate
is alive and yet she married his father? “Why? Was he cruel?”

“No! Spirits, no. He was the gentlest man I’ve ever known. There are times you remind me of him,
my sweet turtleduck.” She palms his cheek and she tries to give him a smile. It falls short by the
broken look in her eyes that she so often shields him from.

“Then,” he tries to wrap his brain around it, tries to fathom leaving a soulmate so wonderful and
perfect for someone like his father. “Why?”

She turns away, goes back to the crumbled loaf of bread in her hands. As if that’ll help her find a
way to explain to him. “Zuko, my love, it’s not as simple as you think. You’ll learn when you’re
older.”

“Well, explain it then!” He urges, frustrated with adults deciding what he can and cannot know. He
can handle the truth plenty!

“Alright, fine.” She sighs, dumping the loaf pieces into the water. Usually, she’d scold him if he
did such a thing but he doubts they’ll feed the turtleducks anymore today. “I didn’t simply decide
to leave him, Zuko. I really had no choice. But I’m getting ahead of myself.”

He listens with rapt attention as she tells the tale of two soulmates who grew up together. They
shared each other’s pain, learned to love together, and they were so, so happy. And then the second
prince came to their island in search of a beautiful wife. Ozai had picked her out as his chosen, his
intended, and she took up the responsibility.

“I never wanted to leave him. But my parents are able to live the rest of their life together,
unbothered with all the riches they can ask for. I’ve made sure he’s protected. And I am able to
serve my country the best way I can.” She explains. “Sometimes, there are things that are… more
than soulmates. Our people, for one. It would have been selfish of me to say no. I’m not saying it’s
perfect or even right. That’s up to Agni, isn’t it? But it’s life and as tough a pill as it is to swallow,
I’ve managed to have two beautiful children. I get to love you, Zuko. So it’s a worthy trade, is it
not?”

He doesn’t say anything. Because, truth is, as foolish as it is, he hadn’t considered that before. He
knows many of the politicians he was forced to meet are not married to their soulmate. He knows
other noble families that marry for monetary gain rather than fated love.

His stomach sinks. He never before cared about who his soulmate was but now, he prays to Agni
that they’re someone he won’t have to deny. He thinks he might break like his mother has if he has
to. If he’s lucky, he won’t meet them. But he knows the only luck he’s ever had has been bad.

Lu Ten, like his father, displays his soulmarks with pride. It’s not a taboo to do so but Zuko finds it
beautiful to be so free. His uncle and cousin are mocked for it and people speak of them having
gentle hearts as if it’s wrong. Zuko fears the same can be said about him as well but tries not to
dwell on it for too long.

He watches his cousin move through positions and stances, tries to imitate them, and tries not to
stare too much at the yellow roses that dot his back like freckles. He hopes Lu Ten’s soulmate is
okay. Those types of soulmarks are always worrying.

“Do you think they’re okay?” Zuko asks softly, wondering if he was too far out of line. But Lu Ten
has always been patient with him and he figures it’s alright.

He pauses in his demonstrations, glancing down at the cluster of roses on his hip. “They’re still
alive, aren’t they?”

Not like his uncle’s. Not like Lu Ten’s mother. Yet, Iroh continues to show off his wilted
soulmarks, just as proud as he was when they first bloomed. It shows his loss but it also shows his
love, at least, that’s what he told Zuko when he once asked.

“They must be strong,” Zuko concludes, offering a bright smile in hopes of lightening the topic.

“Of course they are! They’re handsome, obviously. And not to mention brave!” He laughs. He
doesn’t laugh like Azula, he throws his head back and lets it carry through the air. Let others soak
up the sound until they join him. Zuko likes his laugh.

“You’ve met them?!” He exclaims, dropping his Dao blades to rush to his cousin’s side.

That just leads to Lu Ten laughing even harder. “Of course not! You’d know if I had, silly. But it
makes sense that my soulmate would be like that, doesn’t it? I can’t wait to meet them.”

“What if they’re mean and cruel?” He tests, beating back his guilt for not feeling the same way.
Lu Ten just shakes his head. “Then they wouldn’t be my soulmate. Or there’s a reason for it. Agni
wouldn’t give me someone who was senselessly cruel.”

Lu Ten never meets his soulmate.

Zuko never sees his mother again.

Iroh is removed from the direct line of succession.

There’s fire and it hurts. He can feel his skin bubbling, can smell his charred flesh, and he makes
the mistake of leaning into his father’s palm like it’ll offer any comfort after burning him the way
that it did. It consumes his senses and he distantly hears someone screaming. He thinks the sound
might burst his eardrums with how shrill it is, wonders what made someone scream so awfully. His
train of thought is ended with the intense, neverending feeling of pain pain pain this hurts, make it
stop, please father, I'll be a good son. I am a loyal son. STOP, PLEASE, I CAN BE BETTER, JUST
PLEASE IT HURTS!

“Suffering will be your teacher.” Is the last thing he hears, his father standing tall and powerful
above him. As if he is nothing. As if he has finally proven himself to be the disgrace he was always
told he was.

He wakes up on a small ship with men he doesn’t know and an uncle who tries to help too much.
He’s told of the Fire Lord’s requirements to return home and channels everything into it with a
vengeance. It doesn’t occur to him until his bandages can be removed that his soulmate must bear
this mark now.

Zuko has the mark of traitor burned into his face and his soulmate is forced to wear it too despite
having done nothing wrong. They’re probably ashamed of him now. They probably want nothing
to do with him, too disgusted by what the flowers must tell them.

He doesn’t blame them. Not one bit. And that’s the last thought he allows himself to have about
them. He’ll do as his mother did; serve his people and family first. He’d be selfish to do otherwise.

Zuko lets them go. He covers his marks the best he can and scolds himself every time he looks for
flowers on someone’s face. They’d be better off without him and he’d be stronger on his own. He
can’t afford to be weak any longer. The best he can do is try and not mark them anymore.
 It’s easier said than done, though. Relearning familiarity with fire is harder than he expected and it
leads to more than a few private breakdowns. Weeks after a particularly bad one, he realizes there
are five crescent scars on each bicep from where he held himself too tightly. At the time, it had
seemed like a good idea. A way to distract himself.

It might not be all that noticeable against his pale skin but small petals certainly would be. He
really needs to stop inflicting his scars onto his soulmate. He’s ruining them. He really is useless,
isn’t he?

Chapter End Notes

Holy fuck, I was not expecting this to be so supported so quickly. This chapter is 100%
going to be the shortest chapter and I would have cut it had it not included my baby Lu
Ten. This is also going to be the quickest update though. But next chapter includes
their meet-cute.
 the arms race in burning flowers
Chapter Summary

It's the meet-cute of the century and only one can come out the victor. Spoiler alert, it's
neither of them.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Sokka called it as a child and sure enough, it happened. Katara’s freak powers got them in way
over their heads and led them to a frozen air nomad. One who knew nothing about the war and in
Sokka’s opinion was far too suspicious. He may also be his little sister’s soulmate but that had
nothing to do with Sokka’s suspicion of him. None what so ever.

Katara, the traitor that she was, welcomed the strange boy with open arms and even brought him to
their village. Again, they were soulmates, but Sokka’s fairly certain she would have done that
regardless just to mess with him. The boy, because that’s what he was, too scrawny and childish to
ever be considered otherwise, was far too desperate to have Katara’s attention.

He tripped over himself just to look at her, blushed every time they spoke, and acted like a
complete nut just to have her laugh. That last part might just be who he was, actually. Sokka had
seen him do the same with the children in the village. He was still trying to figure out whether or
not that made it better or worse. He was leaning towards the latter.

But he crossed the line at triggering a Fire Nation trap, accidental or not. Had Aang not been the
soulmate of a tribe member, Sokka would have been allowed to kick him out. This was stopped by
the tall yellow flowers that Katara wore and the curled blue petals on Aang. Despite what was
clearly treason, Sokka was duty-bound. So, the air bender stayed, hidden away in Gran-Gran’s
tent.

Sokka, as the last warrior of their tribe, took up battle preparations alone. He did as his dad taught
him, painting his face with war and reciting his prayers to spirits he was certain stopped listening
decades ago. The other ‘warriors’ were made to stay away from any fight that might come. They
were too young and he refused to have their blood on his hands.

“You’re certain he’ll stay put?” Sokka finds it hard to believe. He’d known Aang for little less than
half a day and even he knew sitting still would be a challenge.

Katara huffs but nods. “He will.”

With things finally beginning to line up, Sokka takes his place as his tribe’s last and only line of
defense. He keeps his spear close and his boomerang closer and tries not to choke at the giant
metal ship that rips into their land and ruins their wall of defense. He reminds himself to be brave,
to hold onto it, because his village can’t take another attack. He can’t lose someone else again.
And he’s the only thing that stands between that happening.

The solid snow beneath his feet crumbles and he keeps his balance to his surprise. Then the Fire
Nation descends upon their village, all but three hiding their faces with demonic masks that still
haunt him sometimes. At the center of them, the one leading and giving orders, is a boy about his
age. His skin is the bleached paleness his people seem to come in with eyes that carry the fire of
his nation. His face is twisted and snarled and across his face is a mottled, disfiguring scar.

As soon as Sokka’s brain puts the pieces together, his entire senses are flooded with the richest
sweetness he’s ever smelled. He desperately tries to hold his breath, tries to reject the smell out of
his nose, out of his memory, and out of his soul. Because this other boy wears his armor like he
was born for it and his eyes, despite carrying fire, are far colder than any winter he’s known.
This… this monster cannot be his soulmate. He refuses.

He’s always known the spirits were full of shit and this finally proves it. How could anyone ever
expect to love someone like him?! He hopes this is a lie or a trick formulated by the Fire Nation to
blindside their enemies but the look of abhorred trepidation tells Sokka otherwise. Then his face
closes off entirely and he continues his march, literally kicking Sokka out of his path.

He wonders what it means if a monster rejects him. If it’s because of the other is a monster or if
Sokka already seems like that horrible of a soulmate. He pushes the thought far from his mind,
wipes the snow off his face and his warrior paint in the process. He’ll do as his soulmate did.
Reject, ignore, and move on. Except Sokka will reject, kick some ass, and then move on. Beating
your problems until they’re no longer problems seems to be the right move here.

“Where is he?” The leading soldier hoarsely questions and Sokka represses his natural reaction to
the sound of it.

He takes his chances and begins to run at the teen, heart pounding at the aggressive display of fire,
and he really would hate it if is soulmate was the one to burn his village down. With a cry, he
swings his spear at him. He defends it easily, even breaks the spearhead off, before he looks up
and sees the white flowers across half of Sokka’s face.

Somehow, he manages to pale even further, his scar standing even starker against his face. It means
Sokka has the chance to blindside him with an attack and there’s a likelihood it’ll work. He takes it
with little regret and manages to floor the other boy.

“You’re not welcome here,” Sokka tells him as he rises to his feet far too elegantly for Sokka’s
liking. He tries to channel all his rage and disappointment into his words, tries to inflict a wound
worse than any of the ones he carries with his voice alone.

All he gets in response is a shutter in his eyes and he counts that as a small victory. “I’ll take my
leave once I have the Avatar. I know this village is harboring him! Don’t play dumb!”

He lowers himself to the ground, positioning himself into a stance, and Sokka tries to prepare
himself. But before he knows it, he’s being flung out of the way again. Like he weighs nothing, is
nothing.

There’s another show of fire and the children scream as Sokka tries to get back to his feet. It’s only
Aang knocking the soldier down that prevents him from ending up charred by his own soulmate.
“Stop! Please! These people have done nothing! It’s me you want!”

The soldier scrambles to his feet, glaring so fiercely that Sokka’s surprise the snow hasn’t melted
all around him. “You?! You’re the Avatar?! I’ve spent years training for this! You’re just a kid!”

Aang doesn’t seem insulted. He just furrows his brows together and looks him up and down. “But
you’re just a teenager.”
And yeah, despite being, you know, the Avatar, apparently, Sokka might not outright hate the kid.
That pale face flushes with indignation and it’s the only good thing that’s happened out of all of
this. Serves the bastard right. Now if only he or Aang could actually land a hit.

The soldier doesn’t seem to find it quite so funny though. He makes daggers out of his own flames,
which, seriously? That’s a thing? His fellow soldiers follow his lead and Aang has enough sense to
know a losing fight when he sees one. He holds up his hands and Sokka feels his stomach drop.

“Wait! If I go with you, you have to promise to leave this village alone!” Aang bargains, pleads
really.

Suspicious but clearly not willing to throw this chance away, the teen accepts. “Alright. Fine.” He
turns to his men, gestures for Aang. “Get him.”

Aang takes a step back, eyes wide. “Do you promise?!”

“Yes! No more harm will come to this place!” He snarls, face scarier than those masks the other
soldiers wear.

And the spirits thought he’d be perfect for Sokka. What an absolute joke. At least he sticks to his
word, retreating with his sister’s soulmate as she calls after him.

Sokka stews in his own mind and whatever it is he’s feeling. He lets Katara frantically pack her
things and knows she’s packing his as well. Her worry is for her soulmate’s safety. His worry is if
the universe gave him a monstrous soulmate because he’s secretly one as well.

He’d been worried all those years ago. Thought that scar had been because of the Fire Nation and
it fueled his hatred even more. Turns out that’s not quite the case, is it? Those white flowers were
nothing but a mockery, to the both of them. And he hoped the other boy was just as disappointed,
just as angry as he was. Serves him right.

“How're you holding up, Sokka?” Gran-Gran asks, giving her best, most warmest smile.

Usually, it’d be enough to break him, but this time he manages to stay quiet. “Fine.”

“Really?” She pushes, eyes lingering on the left side of his face.

He’d thought the staring was bad enough before. The scar that had caused his soulmarking was
worse than he’d thought and he wonders how anyone can put up with the looks such a wound must
garner. Sokka knows he’d stayed up late for days just making sure his flowers didn’t wilt. He’d
been wrought with worry and the bastard had probably got it in some training accident. Training
how to kill anyone who wasn’t Fire Nation and how to be a dick, probably.

“Of course. Don’t worry about me, Gran-Gran. I’m just…” He pauses, swallows back words that
want to be screamed out. He fights against the questions he wants to ask, the pleas that the spirits
were bound to ignore going with them. “You know, Katara’s soulmate turned out to be the fated
savior of the world. Mines a murderer. Guess the spirits never got the memo to not pick favorites,
huh?”

Gran-Gran takes a seat and she looks her age for once, resting a hand over his clenched fists. “Oh,
you thick-headed boy. Why would the spirits give you a horrible person when you are anything
but?”

“As a joke? To laugh at my suffering?” He answers, something he feels can apply to a lot in his
life. He’s realizing he’s not really the lucky type. Especially with recent events.

“I know he is not what you think,” He scoffs, because yeah, out of all the people he imagined, that
was not one of them. “But there is a reason fate has tied the two of you together. You don’t have to
like the boy. But perhaps be patient with him and be kind. You might be surprised by what you
find.”

“Thanks, Gran-Gran,” He begins, pulling his hands away from her. “But I think I’ve had enough
surprises for now.”

She sighs and takes a step back. Fortunately, she doesn’t seem upset with him, so he doesn’t feel
too bad for ending it there. “Very well. I’ll go help your sister pack your things. You’ve got a good
head, Sokka. Use it.”

Sokka watches them from the corner of his eye and he tries to be happy for his sister. He really
does. He can see how well they fit together, how easily they compliment each other even now. He
knows as they grow, they’ll only become stronger, and he’s proud of that. Proud of his little sister
for not jumping blindly into something for once, for asking the younger boy for time to truly get to
know each other before they decide on anything.

The only thing he and his soulmate agree on is to not acknowledge what they are to each other.
Apparently. At least they’ve got that going for them.

“So was Prince Zuko it?” Aang gently prods, eyes far too understanding for someone his age.
Sokka would have looked away and ignored the question altogether if it hadn’t been the name that
stuck out.

“Who?” He hears someone ask, probably himself, but his head is swimming now.

Aang’s eyes grow big and wide. “The boy with the scar and ponytail? It’s… they called him that.
Prince Zuko.”

At least his soulmate isn’t a soldier of the Fire Nation. Oh no, it’s even better. His soulmate just
leads it’s spirits damned people. And once the current Fire Lord passes along the title, it’ll
probably be his soulmate who takes it up. Sokka’s brain short circuits, struggling to cope with the
information that the spirits not only hate him, they downright despise him. They ‘spit on his grave
and laugh in his face’ despise him. If past lives are real, and if looking at Aang is any indication
that they might be, he must have screwed up big time.

“Sokka?” Katara gently calls, gloved hand resting on his shoulder. “Are you ok?”

“Yep. Just wondering what I did to deserve this. Cause it must’ve been real bad. But hey, don’t
worry about me. You’ve got the freakin Avatar to be with. I’ll just be here. Stuck with the Prince of
soulless monsters.” He tries to laugh but it comes out too hollow, too brittle, to be anything other
than pained.
 She sighs like Gran-Gran had, wrapping her arms around him. “I’m so sorry, Sokka. But this
doesn’t mean you’re like them.”

“I’m sure loads of soulmates don’t always work out!” Aang adds on, truly trying to help, and while
Sokka appreciates the gesture, he can’t help but cringe back into himself.

The worst part, probably the most selfish too, is that they couldn’t even try. That Sokka would
never, ever know what it would be like to simply sit with someone who was made for his very soul
and him in turn. The familiarity and comfort that all soulmates had were lost on him entirely. Talk
about a bad hand in life.

Maybe he was cursed. He’ll have to ask Aang. He’s more well versed in spirits. Probably.

Chapter End Notes

I have no self-control and therefore, I give you this chapter so soon. Everyone has been
so kind and I really hope their meeting held up to your expectations. I know it's not as
earth-shattering as some might have expected but the angst will come. And it will
come with a vengeance. To give everyone a little taste of the next chapter, it involves
Yue and Sokka! If you couldn't tell, I'm moving through season one real quick lmao
 discarding what could be ours
Chapter Summary

The kids aren't alright and neither is the moon.

Chapter Notes

buckle up cause this is double the length of the first few chapters. It also features both
Sokka and Zuko's perspective and a rushed summary of season one.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

In the past two years, Zuko had shoved quite a few things to the back of his mind. Among those
things were memories of his mother, the things he learned while traveling, and any thoughts of his
soulmate. He shut off his heart and his mind to whoever that person was and went on with his life.
His duty.

His soul didn’t get the memo. Even weeks after, the crisp scent of the salty arctic and gentle
summer wildflowers wouldn’t leave his senses. Why couldn’t that damned boy stay back at home?
Why did he have to join the Avatar? Couldn’t his sister be the only one to accompany him? She
was his soulmate, if he heard through the grapevine correctly, so what use was he?

Zuko prepared the worst in every aspect of his life. Yet, he was still taken aback by this. A
Southern Water Tribe peasant who was unable to even bend. If he hadn’t brought shame to his
family before, he certainly had now. It was only a matter of time before the news was out and he
dreaded to think of what Azula would say. She’d probably laugh for hours, telling him it's what he
deserves, before congratulating him on his bad luck that still manages to screw everything up so
spectacularly.

To deal with the entire issue, he instead focused on the Avatar. His goal was right there. He was so
close to making his father proud, to going home, and taking back his mantle as the crowned prince.
He was tired of being the banished crowned prince, the feeling having worn out its welcome a few
years ago.

He wanted to go home. And despite the many poems, plays, and songs written, home was not his
soulmate. Could never be his soulmate.

He was okay with that. He had to be. His father was a glorious leader and he didn’t have a soulmate
so clearly Zuko didn’t need one either. It was just a distraction and that was all.

People whispered about those without marks. It didn’t matter how generous they were, or even
how nice, if you didn’t have soulmarks. It was better to have wilted flowers than it was to have
none at all.

They said those without soulmarks were soulless creatures. That they only had room for one within
their hearts and it was themself. It had become quite treasonous to say such things once Ozai
became Fire Lord but Zuko still heard it all.

If he ever paid heed to such stupid superstition, it would be because of Commander Zhao. With no
soulmarks and a greed for power, Zuko thinks he might have just found the poster boy for the
rumors. He’d like the attention so surely he wouldn’t mind too much.

He was a disrespectful bully who had too much control and yet his father continued to give him
even more of it. Zhao’s hunger wasn’t even satiated with his new promotion. Now he wanted
Zuko’s mission. He interrogated Zuko’s men and sniffed out the truth like a piranha-shark after
blood. Even had the nerve to lock away him and his uncle until he got that head start in the search.

“I’ll find the Avatar before you!” Zuko vows, indignant in his anger. He stares the slimy bastard
down and wishes he were closer to hitting distance.

Zhao laughs and it reminds him of Azula. “Oh? I don’t know if you’re aware, Prince Zuko, but I
have an entire fleet at my command. What do you have? No home, no allies, even your own father
doesn’t want you! You’re nothing more than a banished little boy.”

“Shut up! You’re wrong!” He shouts, palms beginning to burn. “Once I deliver the Avatar, my
father will welcome me home with honor!”

He levels him a patronizing look and never before has Zuko wanted to claw someone’s eyes out so
badly. He can imagine how it would feel, how satisfying it would be. Maybe he’d finally shut up
once and for all. “It’s become a bit of a trend to be unwanted, isn’t it Prince Zuko? What was it that
your men told me? Oh, right. One of the Avatar’s companions, a filthy water tribe savage, is your
soulmate. How does it feel that a savage doesn’t even want you?”

Zuko surges forward, only stopped by the guards. The guards that should be listening to Zuko
because he should outrank Zhao here. But he makes sure to snarl, to let the man know just how
pleasing the thought of burning him alive currently is.

“Your father would have let you come home if he wanted you there. But do you really think he
would want you back if he knew? Even the spirits know how weak you are.” Zhao steps closer,
only inches away from the restrained prince, and he gives his sweetest saccharine smile. “Don’t
worry. Once I capture the Avatar, I’ll help you out and wilt those soulmarks for you.”

“Do it and it’ll be the last thing you ever do!” He can’t hold back the threat, can’t stop the sudden
rupture in his chest at just the idea of his soulflowers wilting. Call him a hypocrite or a coward,
he’s chasing down and endangering his soulmate, after all, but to see the other boy killed would
likely fracture what little hope Zuko has left in the world.

Zhao finally removes himself from his personal space and he seems far too delighted with a now
murderous Zuko. “Is that a challenge?”

“Yeah! Agni Kai, sundown!” He knows it's foolish, doesn’t even need to look at his uncle to see
his disappointment. He knows what happened last time he participated in an Agni Kai. He also
knows it was a mistake to react so strongly to the mention of his soulmate. He’d just highlighted all
his weaknesses for Zhao to see and pick apart and Zuko alone was to blame for that.
It seems this is the outcome Zhao had wanted though. “Very well. I do hope that barbarian doesn’t
mind wearing your failure for the rest of his life.”

By the time the Commander finally takes his leave, Zuko is struggling not to burn down the tent.
It’s only Iroh’s reminders to control his breathing that he doesn’t. So he focuses on his breaths, his
upcoming battle, and figures it’ll all work out. It has to. He’ll make it work out even if it doesn’t.

The Avatar might be a thirteen-year-old boy but he was a slippery bastard. Zuko struggled to keep
track, relying on the gossip in ports and rumored sightings. It was a tactic he’d gotten better at, one
he doubted most would be willing to use.

But it served his purpose. It helped lead him to Kyoshi Island. He didn’t typically like using the
komodo-rhinos but it was best for travel on land. The village was more inland than they were
willing to walk and Zuko reasoned that it could serve as some exercise for the animals. They were
far too cooped up in the ship as it was.

The women with war paint and sharpened fans were more than impressive. They wielded the two-
bladed fans better than he wielded his Dao blades. He’d recruit them if he could, if they were Fire
Nation. He would have taken the time to appreciate the good sparring match if it weren’t for the
urgency for catching the Avatar. Said boy was always quick to escape.

It was right about the time he was thrown from his komodo-rhino that he noticed a figure that
wasn’t as feminine as he originally believed. Their face was painted just the same and they even
wore the same rich green robes. But beneath the paint, a starker white stood out against their left
eye just barely, and their eyes were icy blue as opposed to the villagers’ brown or green.

It was no Kyoshi warrior. By the time Zuko realized, it was too late to pull back his hits even if he
wanted to. The damage was done and he watched as another warrior dragged his soulmate away
safely. Then he was gone. The Avatar with him. He got the distinct feeling they took more than he
was willing to admit with them.

The village burned and Zuko ignored that raging inferno within that burned with it. It was the
stupid connotations that came with soulmates, is all. If that peasant wasn’t his soulmate, he
wouldn’t feel anything but frustration from failing to catch the Avatar. He would have seen him as
just another obstacle.

Everything else he felt was as unnecessary and unwelcomed as his soulmate was. Besides, he
probably blew any chance he might have ever had. Attacking the boy’s village and then burning
another one down seemed to be the type of behavior that made others run from their soulmates. But
it’s alright.

He was breaking the rules of his banishment. But it was his chance and he wasn’t letting go, he
was grasping at it with both hands and damn the consequences. His father would understand. He
had to. Zuko needed to do this.
So he entered Fire Nation waters, forced the Wani through a blockade, and snuck away to the Fire
Temple under the ship’s smoke. He’d hoped it would lead Zhao the wrong direction, that the man
would head north instead. It seemed Zuko was wrong, as usual, and the man had seen right through
the smokescreen. Literally.

On top of the Avatar slipping off to the sanctuary room and locking himself inside, Zuko was left
empty-handed. He added ‘defeated’ to that list when Zhao made his grand appearance. He really
was the worst. But Zuko knew he’d fail too and that meant he was dragging the commander down
with him. That alone made it worth it.

“The Avatar and two traitors. What a proud day it is for the Fire Nation.” Zhao delighted and if
Zuko wasn’t restrained, he worried what he would do to the man who has been a bane in his
existence since the day they met. He especially didn’t like the way his eyes caught onto the Water
Tribe siblings.

“You’re too late!” Zuko’s soulmate gloated, even when tied against a pillar with his sister.

Zhao waved it off, not once bit affected. “He’ll have to come out at some point and I’ll be ready
when he does.” He turns on his heels but pauses to look back at the waterbender, mock sympathy
in every line of his body. “Oh, right. You might want to get a good last look at your soulmarks if
you can.”

She lets out an animalistic cry, one that sends shivers down Zuko’s spine but seems to be a source
of amusement for Zhao. “You won’t get away with this!”

He just keeps laughing and for once, Zuko might be on the same page as the Water Tribe siblings.
He’d help them get rid of the man if he could. If they wouldn’t just get rid of Zuko right after.
They might even celebrate the wilted flowers.

He pushes the thought out of his head and holds his breath. He can’t bring himself to look towards
anyone. He knows, somehow, despite how improbable it seems, the Avatar will survive this and
escape. He’s lucky like that. Zuko, on the other hand, works for his luck, and even then it still
blows up in his face. He’s silent as he plans his escape. He can’t be brought in by Zhao, can’t be
thrown into prison, not before he regains his honor.

When the waves of fire begin, he feels those icy blue eyes on him. And like a coward he’s always
been told he was, he runs for it as soon as the chains melt. He won’t be burned again and he won’t
wait around to get caught in the crossfire.

On the way back to his ship, he takes off his armor and keeps watch over the blue blooms. For the
first time in years, he allows himself to look his body over and see if there are any new soulmarks.
There’s a few and he thinks he might have caused at least one. But in the end, he can’t control this.
He can’t control anything at all, not even his own emotions. And he has to be okay with that.

While dirtying his hands with pirates is the last thing he wanted to do, Zuko does it anyway. Oddly
enough, it was thanks to his uncle and his eccentric requests that he was so close. It’s the
waterbender that they track down first and she looks at him with a hatred he knows her brother
shares.

She snarls and spits out the cruelest words she can, the waves in the river growing even more
violent when she sees her necklace in his hands. “Do my brother a favor and jump in the river. He
deserves better than something like you.” She suggests with her teeth bared.

He debates it, wonders if his soulmate would relish it if he did as she said. In the end, it’s him who
ruins everything. He opens his mouth and taunts the pirates with the possibility of more gold and
Zuko curses every spirit he knows of. While he can objectively agree it's a good move, a smart one
even, he still resents the fact that it ends with his ship needing some major repairs.

Though if asked, he will absolutely deny the way his heart seized in his chest when the trio went
tumbling over the waterfall. And as they fly away, as he misses his chance again, he meets eyes
with his soulmate. And he realizes he almost wilted his own flowers and that… that might not be
okay. Its Sokka who turns his head first and Zuko stares on, his ruined ship forgotten.

The Wani goes down in flames and Zuko clings onto life until Iroh helps him out of the river. His
hip is burning and he wonders if it’ll scar, if it already left its mark against his soulmate.
Everything hurts but he only lets himself think about his mission. It’s the only thing that makes
sense anymore. He feels too brittle to think about anything else, anything at all. He can feel his
resolve crumbling and no amount of reshaping is helping it stay together.

He hides away on Zhao’s ship and then he tries not to freeze to death. But his uncle has taught him
well, especially when it comes to breathing, and he survives, just as he has always done. He does
the only thing he knows how to do and he hunts the Avatar down and ignores his soulmate.

He never wanted this. His heart aches, the heart he’s ignored for these last few years because it
reminds him too much of his mother. He’s starting to think things will never be okay. Especially
when he fails. Again and again and again, he fails. The waterbender had been right. He was
unworthy of even having a soulmate. He didn’t deserve his home, wasn’t worthy to lead his
people, and he realized the luck behind his birth was bad.

❃❃❃

The Northern Water Tribe was everything its sister tribe wasn’t. It had the snow, ice, and cold, that
was no stranger to Sokka. But they used those things to make beautiful, towering buildings. Not to
mention the key difference, so many people living within its walls. There were so many benders
too, much to his sister’s delight.

Once they were recognized, they were welcomed with open arms. And sure, there might have been
a hiccup or two between Katara and Master Pakku, but things were quickly resolved thanks to her
necklace and the way she practically dominated the battlefield. Apparently, even though his sister
was untrained, she was still remarkably strong. After seeing the things she’s done, he isn’t the least
bit surprised by that assessment.

And while Aang and Katara were usually busy practicing their bending, Sokka got to know the
Princess. It happened by chance that he grew so familiar with her but he found himself glad that he
did. Princess Yue was beautiful and she had a smile that blinded him. She even found him funny
and laughed at times even he found himself cringing. She was so good.
She was nothing like the angry Prince the spirits tied him to.

He… he liked her. A lot. And he wondered why it couldn’t be her, couldn’t be this kind and gentle
princess that smiled at him like he was more than a peasant from the south. She smiled with those
dimples and those soft eyes and he felt seen in a way he hadn’t since he was a child. He loved her
smile in this very moment and greedily took it in, knowing how precious a sight it was. For
whatever reasons the spirits didn’t give her a soulmate, it wasn’t because she was evil or soulless.
She was anything but those things.

Her gloved hand rested on his cheek and her smile began to fall as she caressed the white blooms
found on his left eye. “You never talk about him.” She mentions lightly.

He tenses at the mention. Because, truth be told, he’d be trying to forget he even had them. He’s
also surprised she hasn’t mentioned them before. It’s no secret who his soulmate is. How could it
be when it was so glaringly obvious? He had Fire Nation practically branded into his skin thanks
to that jerk prince. She wasn’t the first to bring it up, either. Her father had that first night they
arrived, bringing Sokka to the side. He’d asked if he should be wary, if he needed to watch and
make sure Sokka didn’t turn traitor. The answer had been and continues to be a resounding no.

It didn’t mean people looked at him strangely. Be it for the soulmark itself or the person it came
from. If people knew the prince, they typically treated Sokka like a weak-willed maiden who
couldn’t control himself. As if he’d run to the prince just because he was apparently supposed to.

But Yue never treated him like that. She didn’t take pity on him and she didn’t treat him like a
potential enemy. Spirits, she didn’t even treat him like a sidekick of Aang and his sister. So he gave
in to the topic and answered honestly. Because she deserved at least that. She deserved so much
more than what he could ever offer her.

“You know who it is?” He asks, having to be certain that she understands, that he wouldn’t just
deny his soulmate because he could.

She nods, her thumb caressing his cheek, and she looks radiant in the moonlight like this. “I do.
And it’s okay, Sokka. You know that, don’t you?”

He weakly smiles, pretends that he really does know that when its the furthest thing from the truth.
“Yeah. I don’t bring it up because it…” He pauses, swallows thickly, and tries to find the words
he’s looking for. “Tui and La must have made a mistake. Or they got carried away with a joke.” He
tries to end it on a laugh but it falls into a sigh as he looks away, unable to stand the intense
compassion found in her eyes.

“Or,” She begins, bringing his eyes back to her. “They knew someone so complicated would need
someone so patient.”

“Wait, so, you want me to be with him?” He asks incredulously.

She laughs and all he can think is that it sounds an awful lot like bells. “Sokka, I want you to be
happy! That’s all.”

This. Why couldn’t his soulmate be like this? Why couldn’t it be her soulmarks etched into his
skin? Why couldn’t it be as easy as it was with her? “But what if I’m happy with you?”

Yue presses her forehead against his but doesn’t move closer. “You’re amazing. And you’re kind,
so incredibly kind. And you know why we can’t be together.”

He does. He loathes her necklace about as much as he loathes his soulmarks at this point. Another
obstacle, another slap in the face from fate, and another reason for him to resent the world in
general. “Doesn’t mean I’m still not happy in your company."

He manages to make her blush bright pink and counts it as a success. If only he could freeze time
or rewrite fate, keep them in this moment forever and actually let it be allowed. He might not love
her but he can see the fall ahead. He should try and stop it while he can, before its too late, but he
wasn’t lying. He really is happy with her and if that means some pain in the future, it was well
worth it.

Maybe Sokka should feel a little more weirded out about his… uh… whatever Yue is to him
cradling his soulmate’s head as they fly away from the frozen tundra. But with the sky turning red,
he had more important things to worry about, like how light-headed Yue was getting with each
passing second. Things weren’t going well and they didn’t get any better when they reached the
Oasis once more.

That one Admiral, whatever his name was, had taken hold of the moon spirit fish and the madness
that gleamed in his eyes was really not a good look. Sokka didn’t think he’d actually do it. He and
the few men he brought with him were outnumbered and outmatched. And he’d never seen the old
general so angry, so serious, before. That alone should have frightened the man off.

But it didn’t and he struck the spirit, killing it in the pond where it’s other half swam around it,
desperate and frightened. Things moved quickly then. Too fast for Sokka to truly keep track of. All
he knew was that the spirit murderer had slipped away and it was up to Yue to save not only the
Northern Water Tribe but waterbending as well.

“Please, don’t do this!” He pleaded, eyes burning as he held her hands as tightly as he could.
Regardless of whatever they were, she was his friend, and she deserved her life, her future. She was
so pure, so good, and she should live. If murderers, pillagers, Fire Nation assholes, if they were all
allowed to live, then dammit, she should be too.

“Sokka,” She cries with a smile, like he was the one meant to be comforted here. “You’ve made
these last few weeks wonderful. I never knew I could care for someone so much so quickly before.
But I have and I do. If you care for me at all, let me go. I need to do this. For my people, for the
world, and for myself.”

“I--” He can’t speak passed knot of unsaid words lodged in his throat. Can’t bear to watch as this
wonderful woman sacrifices herself for them all but he knows he has to. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. This is my choice.” Yue pulls away, takes the spirit from Iroh, and pulls it close to her
chest.

There’s a light and when it fades, Sokka catches a collapsing Yue. He vaguely takes note of Iroh
taking the spirit, gently releasing it back into the pond. But all he can focus on is the girl in his
arms, her body lifeless. He feels the tears finally leave his eyes and his hold on her tightens. “She’s
gone.” He says, to himself or to the others he doesn’t know.

He told her father that he’d protect her. In turn, she’d protected everyone else. She’s the reason the
Fire Nation is forced to retreat, the reason the city still stands, that his sister is even still able to
bend. He owes her his life. They all do.
 It’s only till the dust has settled that he realizes the prince and his uncle have disappeared. In a
panic he didn’t know he could feel, he immediately checks the soulmarks he can immediately see.
His shoulders sag when he sees that they’re still there. Whether it means no one else was lost
today, they’re still there, or because they’re not wilted, he isn’t sure.

By the time they finally pack up and leave the Northern Water Tribe, he’s more than ready for a
new scenery. All he knows is that what happened during the invasion is far from acceptable.
Between the newly reached madness from the Fire Nation or from innocent people dying or even
good people sacrificing themselves, the world is in chaos. It has been for a long time and the
magnitude of how much is resting on their shoulders finally catches up. It leaves him staggering
and struggling to breathe and its only Katara that walks him through it.

Chapter End Notes

Can I just say, I love all of you? Because I do. I already loved this story but to know
it's loved so much by y'all as well just amplifies my excitement in sharing it. This was
originally meant to be split up but I decided against it. And again, my update schedule
is nonexistent. So don't always expect updates every day or even multiple times a day.
Tell me what you think of the chapter! These comments are literally making my day
and I love each and every one of them.
 find a new path, you've gone astray
Chapter Summary

Zuko alone but revamped

Chapter Notes

TW: implied rape of a side character. It's just the two paragraphs after "You're not
alone, Lee." but please take care of yourself and skip it if you need to. There's also a
discussion about domestic abuse too later in the chapter.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Azula always lies. He knows this. The only time she doesn’t is when the truth will hurt even more.
So he should’ve known when she hunted him and their uncle down. Her spiel about family
should’ve been the first clue. Not once did she say something caustic.

He’d listened to her words, the third anniversary of his banishment hanging over his head, and he
took everything at face value like a desperate fool. His father didn’t want him home, he wanted
him in a prison cell, shoved out of the light in hopes that Zuko wouldn’t embarrass the family
anymore. Iroh was officially hailed as a traitor due to his role in the North Pole and Zuko was seen
as an accomplice to it all with his repeated failures to capture the Avatar.

They were fugitives and that meant things had changed and they changed fast. Zuko was forced to
let go of his honor, his homeland, and who he was. He used the pearl-handled dagger Iroh had
gifted to him a lifetime ago and cut off his top-knot, handing the blade to his uncle so he could do
the same. For the first time in three years, he allowed his hair to grow out and tried not to mourn
who he used to be and what he used to have.

Zuko had traveled the world. His search for the Avatar brought him to lands he once thought he’d
never see. Before, he’d had tunnel vision, and while he saw the land, he never saw the people.
They either served no purpose, were an obstacle, or led him closer to the Avatar. As a refugee
traveling the Earth Kingdom, he finally began to see the people.

Song was kinder than most and she helped them, free of charge. He knew she saw through their
lies but she didn’t call them out on it. Instead, she invited them to dinner with her and her mother,
and even offered them a place to rest their heads for the night. Despite how pale they were and the
gold in their eyes, they weren’t treated like enemies. They were treated like people and it had been
a long, long time since Zuko had felt like that.

After dinner, the first actual meal Zuko was able to have in the last few days, he had to escape the
house. The air was too familial inside and it choked him, reminding him of simpler times on
beaches, always away from the capital. He wanted to be alone, wanted time to get used to this new
person he was supposed to be.

Of course, Song followed him out, offering a smile like a peace treaty. She took a seat next to him
but she offered him his silence. Offered support but only if it was wanted and he was hesitant to
take it, to learn to rely on it, when it would eventually be taken away.

“Why did you help us?” He finds himself asking, being the first to break the silence much to his
own surprise.

She doesn’t seem taken aback by the question. If anything, she finds it amusing, and her smile only
grows. “Because I had the ability to. It was the right thing to do.”

It sounds like something his uncle would say. Something someone good would answer with. “But
you have no idea who we are.” It’s probably not the best thing to convince her to be suspicious of
them. They didn’t need any more attention than what they already had.

“And you didn’t know who I was. I could’ve been luring you to your murder.” She counters.

He feels himself smile despite himself. “Fair enough.”

Song sighs and he watches her smile fall. “We’ve lost a lot to this war. It seems like you have,
too.” She raises her hand and he immediately tenses, seeing the way her eyes lock onto his scar.
But it seems like she thinks twice about and sets it back in her lap. “The Fire Nation has hurt you.
But you’re not alone, Lee.”

She shifts, pulling her skirts up her legs and over her thighs. Zuko almost snaps at her to ask what
she thinks she’s doing. That she doesn’t know who he is, what type of person he is, and doing
something like that could get her hurt if he were someone else. But then he sees it, sees the scars
around her thighs. They look like handprints. The worst scar, the most vivid one against her
complexion, almost hides a wilted soulmark. The only one he’s seen on her so far. Maybe even the
only one she has.

His stomach twists and turns at the sight. She implied the Fire Nation did this. That someone did
this savagery in the name of Zuko’s own nation. He looks back up to her eyes and her smile is
wobbly. “We’ve survived though, haven’t we? But we can only do that together.”

“Maybe you’re right.” He says, only to please her, because while he may be tactless at times, he is
not heartless. That’s been proven time and time again and for once, he doesn’t think that useless
thing in his chest is a burden. Even though it hurts for her, hurts for the pain she’s endured at the
hands of his people.

When they leave her and her mother, he sees the ostrich horse, and he knows he shouldn’t. It’s
wrong but if anyone were to forgive him for it, maybe it would be her. It leaves him with a pit in
his stomach but that’s a familiar feeling after everything he’s done.

The number of those hurt by the Fire Nation grows as Zuko and Iroh meet new people. They try to
keep to themselves and interact as little as possible with others, knowing how unsafe it was to
cause any attention. But some things can’t be helped. Each and every person had a story to tell, be
it with their words, scars, or wilted soulflowers.

There were some people though that Zuko wouldn’t mind hurting himself. Like the kind that made
his uncle dance for his dinner. The kind that tried to mug them in back alleys. The kind that tried to
steal from them. Zuko would have gladly put them in their place but Iroh held him back. Told him
that they were refugees now and they couldn’t do things to jeopardize that narrative. It meant no
firebending, especially in cities, even when they were alone. It meant dancing and singing with a
smile while some asshole threatened them all for a gold coin.

No one could blame Zuko for finally giving in to his instincts and fishing out his mask from his
bags. A mask that Iroh had to have seen by now but made no mention of it. Zuko was perfectly
content in not mentioning certain things, in pretending as if the issue didn’t even exist. If anyone
were to ask, and someone had, he didn’t know about any Blue Spirit. He’s pretty certain his uncle
would say the same.

“What an extravagant tea set,” Iroh remarked upon seeing it. “You must have made a lot of money
to afford something of such good craftsmanship.”

Zuko hadn’t made even a copper coin. He’d stolen it from the store that had kicked his uncle out
just yesterday. Apparently, Iroh looked too poor to really afford anything. The shop’s owner had
said it with a glare and a twisted smirk, clearly enjoying the spectacle he made. The last Zuko saw,
the man hadn’t been so pleased with himself. In fact, he’d soiled his pants at the sight of the Blue
Spirit. He didn’t know why. The Blue Spirit was just a legend, after all. Maybe he’d gone crazy in
that store all by himself.

“Do you like it?” He asks.

Iroh hums lowly, holding the teapot in the morning rays. “Truthfully, nephew, what holds the tea
hardly matters but what is put into making it.” Then he looks away and turns his attention to the
young boy. The look in his eyes makes Zuko think he might actually address it and say what they
both know. He doesn’t. Instead, he makes tea but it’s with his old set.

It’s a message, one Zuko can clearly see but finds too blurry to read. By the evening, he says his
goodbyes, and sets out on his own. It’s better this way. He has things he needs to figure out on his
own. He doesn’t know what to do with himself anymore, what he should be doing, or where he
should be going. It feels like chasing the Avatar is all he’s ever known but he knows that’s a lie.
To give that up would be giving up his chance to return home. Who was he if he wasn’t heir to the
throne? Who was Zuko if he couldn’t be Fire Nation anymore and no nation would ever truly
welcome him?

He didn’t know and for some reason, he felt like doing this, going his own way, might help with
that.

The first thing he learned on his own was how approachable Iroh was. The only reason this was
even something he realized was because of how many people actively avoided him when he was
alone. When he was with his uncle, strangers were known to come up and begin a conversation. It
was a perk, even if it meant fewer hand-outs, but he despised those to begin with.

He did meet a young boy, though. With bright wide eyes and determination written into his bones,
he reminded Zuko of his past. He brought Zuko home like a bearded cat and presented him before
his parents like he’d found something spectacular. All because Zuko hadn’t ratted him out to the
those big brutish Earth Kingdom soldiers that seemed to rule over the village.

The family was so different from what Zuko knew. There were two parents and a child but it was
the dynamics that confused him. The father, Gansu, took him aside to assist in some of the repairs
needed around the farm. He was patient and when Zuko messed up, he didn’t get angry. He calmly
explained what the issue was and helped him correct it. He reminded Zuko of his uncle more than
anything. He didn’t press for information and as long as Zuko did his fair share, it didn’t matter
who he was.

Sela, the mother, prepared dinner and even asked if he wanted to help. Even though his arms hurt
and his shoulders protested any movement, he did, because it was the respectable thing to do. They
were feeding him and housing him for a couple of nights, after all. It wasn’t until the second night
that she began to pry. But it wasn’t the way Azula did. She was just genuinely curious, genuinely
kind.

“Have you met your soulmate yet?” She questions. It’s a standard question, one that is far more
common here than in the Fire Nation, and he manages to not break the bowl in his hands. He’s
been asked more than a few times at this point.

“Yes.” It’s all he says on the matter, cut and dry, but the message is clear. It isn’t a topic he enjoys.

She doesn’t bristle as some have in the past, as he would have. Instead, she shrugs and pulls her
sleeve up. It’s there, around her bicep, that he sees her soulmarks for the first time. They’re wilted
but he can make out the faded yellow in them. “I was married to mine, you know. And by the time
he passed away, I was grateful.”

He tenses at the statement, setting down the bowl. “How come?”

“He wasn’t a kind man. Not after he came back from the battlefield and took up drinkin’. He drank
himself to death, you know. Left me alone with a son and some dead flowers.” She chuckles to
herself and he can appreciate the bitterness in it. She goes back to cutting up vegetables but she
isn’t done with her story, apparently. “Everyone kept giving their condolences and I felt guilty
because it meant me and my boy weren’t hurting anymore. And a few months later, I met Gansu. I
realized something the day I realized I loved him. Do you know what it was?”

“What was it?” He has to force the words out his mouth, so tense even his jaw muscles begin to
ache.

Sela smiles at him from over her shoulder. “I realized that if the spirits made us, they clearly made
some mistakes along the way. If they can fuck us up that badly, then they can get soulmates wrong
too. We may not always choose who we love but we can choose our happy ending. I chose my
happy ending to be with Gansu and the family we have together.”

Zuko mulls it over in his head. He goes back to cleaning the bowl and lets the silence cover over
them until he finds the right words to say. “Why tell me this?”

“Because you look like a man who’s getting too used to running. I don’t know if it’s from your
soulmate, your family, the war, or even yourself. And frankly, it’s none of my business. But if I can
help, if I can offer some advice, it’s that no one controls your destiny. Certainly not the spirits,
that’s for sure. Best you can do is live your life and lay down in whatever bed you make.” She
answers, sounding so much like his uncle. He thinks if they were to ever meet, they’d become
frighteningly fast friends.
But she’s right. He’s running. Running from everything she guessed he was, from his soulmate, his
family, the war, and himself. He had to stop running, at least when he had no destination in mind.
It was time for him to go back to his roots and try again.

The last day he’s there, he finds Lee playing with his dagger. It brings him back again, to the days
he’d leap to and fro, pretending he was attacking enemies and saving the day. Lee’s almost in tears
to apologize but Zuko brushes it off. Instead of lashing out, he shows him how to hold the blade
and actually put it to use. He figures the few pointers and the blade itself are a worthy parting gift.

Or at least, it would have been if Sela hadn’t tracked him down and begged him to come back.
“Please. I know I’m not family but I don’t know what else to do! I can’t lose him too.”

So he goes back and he tries to fight like he’s someone else. Just like he’s been trying to convince
everyone else. But the truth is he’s tired of running and denying who he is, whoever that may be.
All he knows is he has a name, an identity, and he knows the parts those things include. He has the
formula, he’s just lacking the answer.

When he gets back up from the fight, he’s more certain than he has been in a while. The flames
speak to him and he wields them as Iroh always taught. And when the man hits the ground, he hits
the ground hard. He looks out at the villagers that had rooted for him, cheering for him to win, had
even helped him these past few days. Now, they look on with fear and disgust, and he forces on a
brave face.

Sela, the woman who resembles both of the best two people who raised him, his uncle and mother,
looks at him with vitriol clouding her eyes. “Who are you?” She spits it out and he knows that she
resents having not asked before.

This time, he isn’t mute, and he doesn’t lie. He looks her directly in the eyes and tries not to cringe
from the tears that fall from Lee’s eyes. “I am Zuko, son of Ursa and Fire Lord Ozai. Crowned
prince and heir to the throne.” When he says it, it doesn’t hold the glory it once did. He’s seen too
much.

An old man, one who had been cheering the loudest, scoffs. “Liar! I’ve heard about you! You’re
no prince! Your own father burned you! Even your soulmate thinks you’re a soulless monster!”

Zuko flinches back, lowing his gaze to the ground, where he sees the fallen dagger. He walks
forward, offering it to the crying boy, but Sela is quick to pull him behind her. As if Lee needs to
be shielded away from him. “Don’t you dare.” She pauses, swallowing thickly, and Zuko takes a
step back, finally seeing the beast reflected in her eyes. “You’re just another mistake from the
spirits. So don’t you dare let me see you near me or my family. Ever again.”

He turns on his heels at that and heads back to his stolen ostrich horse. He leaves, taking his
dagger with him but leaving his ignorance about himself back at that farm. He went searching for
answers for who he was and he found them. Agni himself, he found them.

He tracks down his uncle and the circumstances are stranger than he would have ever guessed. He
finds Iroh with his sister, the Avatar, the Watertribe siblings, and a young girl he’s fairly certain is
blind. He even gets dragged into the fight, fighting side by side with his soulmate for once. And
it’s actually not going terribly.
That is, before Azula shows herself and attacks with lightning. He watches as Iroh goes down with
a shout and all he can see is his mother walking out those doors. He’s barely aware of the fact he
attacks along with the others or that she even disappears. Lucky just as always.

“No, Uncle!” He races to the man’s side, frantic and hands shaking. The man groans at being
moved and he quickly pulls away, almost doubled over as his mind goes blank. He tries to think of
what to do but he can’t. It’s like his mind has shut off just when he needs it most. He’s running off
pure panic and he can’t do anything! Useless! That’s all he ever is! And Uncle is going to die and
it’ll be because of him! Because he can’t be better!

“Zuko,” The waterbender calls.

“Go away!” He shouts because they’re the enemy, right? Why would they help? What could they
possibly do except cause more pain?

“I can help him!” She cries out, stepping closer.

He lets out a cry of his own, throwing his hand back, because why can’t they just listen? No one
ever listens to him! “Get away from him!” He shouts, throwing a wall of fire their way.

He thinks they might finally leave, finally get the hint. He hears them step back and he puts his
attention back on his injured uncle. He jumps when he feels a hand on his shoulder, hold so tight
that he can’t really react with fire. When he looks up, he sees the boy that mirrors his scar. The boy
that he’s done nothing but hurt and be a burden to. “Enough. Let Katara heal him.”

For some reason, Zuko listens. He sits on his hands, not trusting how unsteady they seem, and
doesn’t shake his soulmate’s hold. In fact, he leans into it, watching as the recently trained
waterbender uses the water she’d weaponized to heal his uncle’s injury. It doesn’t take long and
when she’s done, the burn is less horrific looking.

“He’ll be fine but that’s all I’m able to do for now. At least in one session.” She tells him, no
venom in her voice for once.

“Thank you.” He chokes out.

His soulmate pulls away and he scolds himself for leaning back even further, as if chasing after the
comfort. “We should get going.”

“Take care of your uncle!” The small girl, who’s name he failed to remember, calls out as they
climb onto the back of the Avatar’s bison.

As they fly away, the monk gives him a tentative smile. Once they’re gone, Zuko manages to get
his brain back online, and he quickly finds them shelter. He doubts his sister will come back but he
can never be too safe.

Getting to Ba Sing Se is a challenge. By the time they even get to the ferry that’s supposed to take
them to the city, Iroh is mostly healed, and Zuko has a new soulmark blossoming against the side
of his calf. He wonders if it’s his sister that caused it or something else. It had come in slowly so it
couldn’t have been too serious.
His train of thought ends there, though. He takes a sip of the broth they’d served for dinner on the
ferry and he immediately spits it out. “Ugh! I hate this! I am so sick and tired of living like this!”

His uncle goes to say something, probably some veiled proverb, but another teen beats him to it.
“If that’s the case, maybe I can help,” He offers, eyes locked onto Zuko’s scar as he smirks. “I hear
the captain eats like a king and we get his table scraps. You wanna help me, uh, liberate, some
food?”

Zuko looks around at the other refugees. They’re just as starved and Zuko wasn’t exaggerating. He
really is done living like this. So he nods and tenses at the way the other boy sizes him up. He
knows he can take him, even without bending, but he will remember to keep an eye on the boy.
“I’m ready when you are.”

At that, the other teen’s eyes light up. He pulls the wheat from his lips and offers his free hand.
“I’m Jet. Those two are Smellerbee and Longshot.”

He can easily tell they’re soulmates, the shorter one wearing the scars on her cheeks like a
statement and the taller one having them mirrored as tall green blooms. “I’m Lee and that’s my
uncle Mushi.” He introduces, shaking the other’s hand.

Jet smirks, a dimple in his cheek, and he puts the wheat back between his lips with a wink. “Nice
meeting ya, Lee.”

He narrows his eyes, wondering at the taunt, and puts his worries into planning the heist. They take
the cooked meat, the many bowls of rice, and even the platters full of fruits. Jet tosses him the
bottle of mead with another wink and he adds it to the bag. When they show back up to the
common area and serve out what they can, Zuko eats his first decent meal in days, not even
bothering to pay much attention to the conversation.

“I get that. I’m working on being better now. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my past but I’m hoping
this can serve as a new start, a second chance.” Jet says, officially causing Zuko to tune back in.

He can respect the sentiments. And so can his uncle, if the small nod his way is anything to go by.
“I believe everyone deserves a second chance if they truly mean it.”

On the last day on the ferry, Jet seeks him out, the two of them alone in the dark of the night. “As
soon as I saw you, I knew what you were,” He says in lieu of a greeting, effectively making Zuko
tense all over. “You’re an outcast, like me.”

He sighs, feeling like ten years have been shaved off his life. “Really?”

“Yeah. You know how to fend for yourself because no one else will do it for you. And you’ve
been screwed over just as much by the world as I’ve been.” He continues, crowding closer.

Zuko can’t fault him for the analysis. He pretty much hit the nail on the head with that one. Still,
he reaches up and feels the edges of his scar. “It’s not that hard to tell life has been tough for me.”

If he allows himself, he can see the similarities though. Both angry and hurt by the world balancing
on a precipice of change. The issue is that if Zuko were to meet himself, he wouldn’t exactly trust
him, so he applies the same to Jet now. It doesn’t matter how charming he might try to be or how
many times he says the right things at the right times, he’s in the same precarious position as Zuko
is. They’re both outcasts and for good reasons.

“Maybe the fight is clear but I can see the resilience just as easily in your eyes. I can see you, Lee.
Easier than most people, I’m betting.” He lowly says, wheat stick rolling between his fingertips.
He catches Zuko’s eyes and he doesn’t look away, only leans in closer.

He places a hand against his cheek, right beneath the scar, and its only the railing of the ferry that
keeps him from jumping away. He’s tense when Jet chastely kisses him, suddenly realizing the
looks and the secretive smiles. He pulls away if only to stare in confusion. Because no one has ever
wanted Zuko. Period. Especially not for this, not with his scar and general personality acting like a
deterrent. And his soulmate had certainly never seemed interested even though Zuko responded
with equal coldness.

No one had ever wanted Zuko until now. And maybe that’s the driving force. Maybe its Sela in the
back of his mind, even though she probably wishes him dead now. Whatever it is, Zuko reaches
forward and brings Jet back to him, his lips uncertain but seeking.

Jet takes control easily and he smirks against the kiss once it deepens. Its intensity makes it hard to
breathe but Zuko has a sudden longing for more. He knows his movements are clumsy but Jet
guides him in a way that speaks of experience.

It’s only when hands seek his waist that he allows himself to breathe. He allows himself common
sense as well and when he does, his brain immediately screeches to a halt. Zuko pulls away, just as
he always does, and tries to will away the redness creeping up his neck. Jet’s skilled lips follow
after him and he only stops when he realizes how tense the smaller boy has become.

“What’s wrong?” He breaths out, still leaning closer so that he speaks directly in Zuko’s good ear.

And Zuko is not one to lie in order to spare someone’s feelings, at least not anymore, so he’s
honest when he answers. “Too much too fast.”

Jet just chuckles and it vibrates against Zuko’s chest, sending a shiver down his spine. “Alright,
okay.”

So he pulls away ever so slowly. His lips are swollen and redder than they were but he’s not
flushed like Zuko knows he is. “Thanks.”

Just like that, the moment is over, and Jet just leans next to him against the railing, their shoulders
and hips brushing. “You know, when we get settled in Ba Sing Se, you should join us. I think we
could benefit with someone like you.”

“No thanks.” He answers flatly. He only has one thing planned for Ba Sing Se and that’s to settle
down with his uncle. At least for the meantime. Nowhere in that plan does Jet and his little
Freedom Fighters fit into that. Besides, he can’t afford to get close to anyone like that. Sooner or
later, it would blow up in his face, as everything always eventually does.

Jet doesn’t take it personally though. He just shrugs and somehow another piece of wheat ends up
between his lips. Zuko has to force himself not to think further on that matter.
 The last he sees of Jet is the teen being carted away after a fight. No one ever reacts well to finding
out who he is. Spirits be damned, Jet hadn’t even known anything more than he and his uncle were
firebenders. He feared to know what would have happened had he known the full truth.

It still doesn’t stop the sting that he feels. He didn’t even like Jet in any romantic sense. He knew
enough about himself to know that much. Anything he might have felt was purely physical and
respect driven. Because despite how opposed Jet was to him now, he hadn’t been wrong that day
they met. They had been alike in ways many other people probably wouldn’t understand.

They took their hurt and twisted into anger to shield themselves. Zuko knows that now. But he puts
it all to the back of his mind, focusing on the relief of keeping the job that Iroh had found for them.

After weeks of being a waiter at this dreadful tea shop, Zuko knew the ends and the outs of the job.
So when the door’s bell chimes, he rolls his eyes as he goes to greet the customer. It’s a slow day
and he’d thought it would mean little work. Of course, that can’t be the case, can it?

“Welcome to the Pao Family Tea House. Please feel free to sit wherever and I’ll be with you so--”
He stops.

The customer, it turns out, is not just anyone. Before him stands an equally confused, but not nearly
as stunned as he should be, soulmate. Sokka raises his hand and gives a weak wave. “Hey.”

Chapter End Notes

heavy start of the chapter, I know. As for the heavy stuff, please let me know if you
think I should include them in the tags. I wasn't sure since it's only mentioned in a
paragraph each and none of it is graphic.

This chapter was hard at times. idk. I think some of it just didn't turn out how I wanted.
But that's the closest we're getting to cannon and from here on out, things should start
to look a little different.

I love the support this story is getting and even though I feel this chapter is a little
blah, hopefully, y'all enjoy it. I am living on nothing but these comments and I cannot
express how happy they are making me! Take care of yourselves and others and I'll
see you either in the comments or for the next update!
 rip open my ribcage and set me on display
Chapter Summary

Sokka has patience.

Chapter Notes

This chapter was supposed to be a lot longer but it got to the point I just decided to
split it up into two parts. Get ready for the fluff.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

So far the only thing Sokka found he liked in Ba Sing Se, besides the food, was the poetry. And yet
even that was ruined by his pride, his backside still hurting from his fall. It was just one extra
syllable! Didn’t mean they had to kick him out in his ass without a second glance.

Sokka hadn’t made it far when one of the girls came running up to him. He recognized her from
the giggling group, her hair done up the same as theirs and her robes almost the same shade as
theirs too. It gave him a bad taste of Jodi in his mouth but he chalked it up to the too-tall standards
of the poetry parlor.

“Wait!” She called out, her heels clacking as she rushed to his side.

He grinned to himself, once again blessing his Water Tribe genetics. People couldn’t get enough of
Sokka and he couldn’t blame them either. “What can I do for ya?”

She finally caught up, huffing a little as she stared at the side of his face. “Have you met your
soulmate?”

Okay, maybe upper-class didn’t always mean more manners. He’d heard the question before, it
was common enough, but never so tactlessly. And that was coming from him! Who traveled with
even less tactful people! “Why do you ask?”

“Do you know where he is?” She questions next and he almost sighs. Almost.

But then he replays it in his mind and frowns at what he finds. “I didn’t say it was a he.”

Instead of seeming caught or even embarrassed for giving herself away, she just starts giggling as
she had inside. “I’m sorry. I know how rude it is to meddle in the business of soulmates but I
couldn’t help myself!”

He hears about a tea shop run by an old man and served by a scarred teenager. Uncle and nephew,
apparently. She tells him where it is and Sokka finds himself following her directions without
meaning to. Just to get a glimpse. Just to make sure they’re not secretly plotting against them.

That’s all. And possibly so he can get a glimpse at the jerkbending prince in an apron. That’d
certainly be a worthy sight, seeing him knocked down by humility in such a way.
When he reaches the Pao Family Tea House, he holds his breath as he opens the door. He doesn’t
know if he’s expecting there to be a blast of fire aimed right at him or immediate screaming or even
to see them torturing someone for information on the Avatar. But he’s at least expecting something
big and mind-blowing.

It’s a lackluster entrance. The bell over the door rings out and the sitting area is mostly empty
except for an elderly couple, a woman in the corner, and a group of three adults. It’s nice though.
Especially for the Lower Ring.

No prince in sight. No fire. No one being tortured for information. Not even a dragon. It makes the
fight flush from his system and it leaves him with an aftertaste of disappointment.

A door to the kitchen swings open, revealing a thin boy in dark green robes and a grown-out buzz
cut. He’s too focused on the platter balanced in his arms, though, and doesn’t look up
immediately.

From this side, Sokka almost misses the scar. He’s changed, even from just a couple of months
ago, but in the best possible way. He isn’t as skinny as he was in that abandoned village and
healthy is a good look on him. He looks so different like this that it almost convinces Sokka this is
a different boy.

“Welcome to the Pao Family Tea House. Please feel free to sit wherever and I’ll be with you so--”
He turns and it reveals his scar, shattering the momentary illusion Sokka had allowed himself.

He’s stock-still, mouth still hanging open, and it’s enough to catch the attention of the rest of the
shop. With Zuko’s scar and his matching soulmark, they probably look like soulmates meeting for
the first time. He thinks that would’ve been a nicer reality.

But he offers a weak wave and a weaker smile in hopes to snap him out of it. “Hey.”

It seems to work more than he wanted and the platter of teacups and the pot of hot water crash to
the floor. Zuko manages to step back before the hot water scalds him which is a relief, considering
Sokka would hate to be the indirect cause of his own soulmark. But that’s all the movement he
seems to be capable of, mouth opening and closing but no sound coming out.

“Is everything alright, nephew?” The old guy asks as he leaves the kitchen, eyes wide and
concerned. He takes one look at Sokka and he chuckles, quickly grabbing the two of them by the
arm and guiding them to the back room. “I’ll clean this up. I think it’s best the two of you talk
privately, yes?”

“Thank you, uncle.” The prince finally manages to say, refusing to take his eyes off Sokka.

Sokka just nods, feeling far too underprepared for this. They’re deposited in the kitchen and then
the uncle leaves. He realizes that this is the first time he’s ever been left alone with Zuko and it’s
enough of a startling realization that gets him to say something. “What, uh, what are you doing?
Here? In Ba Sing Se? Or well, specifically here? Serving tea of all things? You being here in Ba
Sing Se doesn’t surprise me as much considering you chased us everywhere else but I don’t think
you do that anymore. Do you?”

He slowly blinks a couple of times and then the jerk Sokka knows and loves, well, not knows and
love. Technically, he does know him, knows enough at least. But he doesn’t love him. He doesn’t
know enough about him to even love him. And the things he does don’t make him a good
contender for a lover. Honestly, he doesn’t even like him. Isn’t even around him enough to say he
tolerates him, either. So the jerk Sokka knows, relatively speaking, comes back to life with an eye
roll and a sigh. “Stop talking.”

Which, fair. He probably needs to stop thinking while he’s at it. “Sorry. I’m just surprised. You
know, seeing my soulmate in the city I’ve been staying in for like a month now!”

Then they both pause. Because answering all the questions have been one thing. Seeing the
soulmarks and the evident bond between them is jammed into that as well. But never once, even to
others, have either of them willingly and actively referred to each other as such. Sokka can’t
imagine how people do this, especially so freely. How Aang and his sister can even look each other
in the eyes, open and far healthier than Sokka and Zuko, and even stand in the same vicinity is
astounding. He doesn’t think he can do it. Even Toph handled meeting her soulmate better than he
handled running into his on a semi-regular basis.

His only excuse is who his soulmate is. He didn’t get strong and determined Suki with the most
calming smile. He got the jerkbender with the spirits awful ponytail. But that’s not there anymore
and it makes him look younger. It makes his features less sharp and harsh and makes them almost
gentle. He kind of misses the ponytail.

That’s a lie. He should’ve cut it off the first chance he got. The fact that it even existed for as long
as it did is a crime against all hairs.

But the issue still stands. It’s something that can’t go away. He looks at the scar that defines so
much of his life, the scar that isn’t even his, and sighs in the somberness that hangs over them.
“What are you doing here? Are you after Aang again?”

“No. My uncle and I are refugees here. I didn’t even know the Avatar was in the city.” He answers,
crossing his arms and looking like he’s preparing to go on the defense. “Are you planning to run
back and tell everyone?”

Sokka thinks about it, imagines what their reactions would be. Then he imagines Zuko’s reaction.
Can picture the resigned panic perfectly as he runs off into the dark of the night with his uncle. If
they are caught, what would the Earth Kingdom even do? He’s gotten a glimpse of how they
handle the world and it’s by brushing it all under the rug. Would that happen for the Fire Nation
royals? Or would they make it a grand event, maybe even throw a banquet, as they publicly
execute them? “No. Not as long as you keep out of trouble, I guess.”

“Why not?” Zuko snaps, no thank-you, no offer in return, just barred teeth and suspicious eyes.
“It’d be the smart thing to do. We might be more trouble than we’re worth.”

“Maybe. But it wouldn’t be the right thing to do.” He can give it just as much as he can take it and
Zuko would do well to remember that. He can cross his arms too and be all broody just to look
bigger. It wasn’t that hard to do. “I mean, you’re not hurting anyone here. Your serving tea.”

“But I have. In the past.” He argues.

Sokka can’t help but laugh, truly in disbelief because of the royal pain in his ass. “I can’t believe
this. Are you actually trying to convince me to turn you in?”

He bristles and it reminds him of old times. Not this new, not-prince refugee that he’s become. “I
am trying to figure out your logic here because on all accounts, its what you should do!”

“And?! Do you know how many things I should have done but didn’t?! Spoiler alert, princess,
you’re on it!” Sokka points out, raising his voice only to meet the volume of Zuko’s. He flushes at
his words and rushes to clarify. “You know what I mean! So don’t you dare stand there and tell me
what I should do because you do not want to go there, buddy!”

“What? You think I don’t know it already? That I just do what I want without thinking it through?!
I’m not you!” He bites back, vicious and merciless like the best of flames.

Sokka lets his bitterness coat his laugh, taking a step closer. It seems someone’s defensive state has
changed. “Luckily for you, right?! Instead, you get to be the son of a murderer! How fun is that?!”

“Wh--” He stops himself and Sokka wants to scream.

He wants this fight and it’s not fair. Zuko has ruined so much for him and he will not ruin this too.
“What? Did I say something I shouldn’t have? Or did your uncle actually manage to teach you
basic respect for others?!”

Something shutters behind his eyes and before Sokka knows it, Zuko is up close and personal. He
shoves him, hard, and Sokka barely manages to steady himself. “Don’t you ever shut the fuck up?!
No one wants to hear what a snow savage has to say!”

“Is that supposed to offend me?! I’d take being a savage any day over being the product of
monsters! I’m proud of my heritage! They didn’t commit a spirits damned genocide!” He shoves
back, feeling the heat of Zuko’s anger in the air around him. “You wanna talk about you should
and shouldn’t do?! Maybe, just maybe, your ash making country should be decent people and not
try and burn down the fucking world!

With a shout, Zuko pushes him against the counter, fists faintly glowing from the heat of them.
“You know nothing of my people!”

“And you know nothing of mine.” Sokka retorts in the same breath.

Neither says a word after that. Sokka feels too crowded, too warm, but he doesn’t push the other
teen away. He reminds himself to breathe and he tries his best to shake the heated anger off. He
hadn’t come to fight. He truly doesn’t know why he came but this wasn’t it. And when he looks at
the boy he’d been ready to strangle just a few short moments ago, he sees someone entirely too
human. Once again, he finds himself missing that abhorred ponytail and obnoxious armor. It was
easier to see Zuko as the enemy then. This was easier to ignore then.

His pale cheeks are flushed with rage, his eyes burning with a dying fight. Even with the scar,
Sokka can see how pretty he is. Objectively, of course. But he can’t help but note how his lips are
pinker than his cheeks. Plumper, too.

Yep, right. It was time to leave. Before he did something stupid like start another fight, deck the
guy, or worse. “I think I should go.”

Zuko nods and steps away to allow him that.

He goes to leave but stops himself for just one last word. “I won’t, by the way. Tell them. Just try
and not to start anything.”

Sokka sees his eyes roll and he snickers to himself. That could’ve gone better but compared to their
other run-ins, it wasn’t half bad. He definitely seems calmer, that’s for certain. Had his temper
been what it used to be, the entire tea shop would’ve been burning down. And the neighboring
buildings just for good measure.
He should be with his friends, he knows that. And he has been, for the last few days even. But like
a lovesick polar bear-dog, he’d come running back for just a glimpse at the prince. He told himself
it was to just make sure the other boy was keeping up his end of the deal and not getting into
trouble. That was all there was to it.

Sokka had gone out of his way to even sit somehow the teen wouldn’t immediately see and when
he was served, it was by the old man. He’d just winked at him, told him to call him Mushi, and
gave him some of the best tea he’d ever tasted. He knew he always liked Mushi for a reason,
despite his association with the worst place ever.

It’s through his watching, not stalking, that he finds out how his soulmate might have learned to
quell his anger just days before. More than once, he sees patrons of the shop try and weasel their
way out of their bill or even having an attitude for no apparent reason. One old woman even tried to
say she deserved a refund since her tea was so bad when Sokka had seen her drink the whole thing
with a smile! But not once did Zuko flip out on them, even when he had every right to.

He still struggled to hide his emotions though. More than once, he’d try and smile to appease the
customer, and ended up scaring them instead. Sokka had almost laughed at that alone but then
they’d give in and Zuko would look all confused. If he wasn’t dismantled as the angry, soulless
prick of a prince that terrorized them before then he definitely was now.

After almost an hour, it seemed his luck ran out, and Zuko finally noticed him when waiting on
someone near his table. As soon as he had the order, he rushed over to Sokka with a deepened
frown. “What are you doing here?!”

He gave a sheepish smile, feeling far too much like a kid being caught red-handed. “Getting
some… tea?”

“And you couldn’t get it anyplace else?!” He growls out lowly, careful of being overheard.

Sokka puts his hands up, hoping the lack of weapons in them will calm the prince. Always so
defensive, yeesh. “I’m not here to fight! I just…” Why was he here? How could he answer Zuko
when even he didn’t know the answer? “I’m not really sure why but I figured we might need to
talk? You do realize that we’ve never had a one on one conversation besides the one last week,
right?”

“And now is the perfect time.” He says dryly, good eyebrow crooked upwards.

“As if I know your schedule!” He’s quick to defend, flushing when his outburst gains some
attention. “Zuko, can yo--”

The other boy startles, rushing forward and slapping a hand over Sokka’s mouth. “Shut up! My
name is Lee here, you idiot!”

“Lee?!” Sokka snorts, pulling away from the warm, surprisingly soft hand covering half his face.

“What’s wrong with the name Lee?!” He exclaims, as if genuinely offended.

That just has Sokka cackling even more. “It’s just so basic! And you look nothing like a Lee!”

“What does that even mean?” He asks, sounding like he’s dreading the answer.

“I don’t know, you just don’t. I guess you just look like,” He pauses, watching Zuko, or Lee rather,
wilt a little and look away. As if he’s expecting a harmful remark at the expense of what he looks
like. Sokka sighs and chooses his words a little more carefully. “You look like you to me. You
know, jerkbending soulmate with a cool uncle?”

It seems to be the right thing to say and he hears his sister congratulating him in the back of his
mind for being a functional person for once. His rolls his eyes but his good ear is pink and there’s a
smile pulling at stubborn lips. “Uncle isn’t that cool.”

“Uh, have you met the old guy? He’s so cool!” Sokka exclaims, purposely exaggerating his arm
movements as he throws them in the air. It serves its purpose though, effectively making the other
boy laugh. Well, more of a huff oF amused air, but he’s absolutely counting it.

The woman’s order that Zuko had taken coughs, staring daggers at them both, and it brings them
both back to earth. “I work till close tonight. But I’m off tomorrow. We can meet up here then.”

“Lunch good?” Sokka asks, pushing and shoving and all but throwing a fit to get those cursed
butterflies under control in his stomach.

“Yeah.”

Sokka leaves shortly after, staying just long enough to pay for the three teas and to leave a
generous tip. Just another benefit of being with the Avatar in Ba Sing Se. At least all the tea gives
him an excuse for his racing heart.

They’d met up at the Pao Family Tea House but Zuko had led them to the apartment he and his
uncle were staying in. When Sokka had asked why they couldn’t just stay and have some tea, he’d
flushed bright red and mumbled something about meddling old men. Sokka nodded like he
understood, allowing himself to be maneuvered inside and to be sat in the dining area.

“It’s not as good as Uncle’s tea but it’ll do in a pinch.” He says, pouring them both a cup.

Sokka takes it, glad to have something to occupy his hands. “Seems like the perfect job for him.”

“Yeah,” He shrugs and they both try and deal with the gaps between them.

Wishing the tea was something stronger, something to make this a little more bearable, Sokka
forces himself to say something. Anything, really. “So, uh, you never did say why you two are
here? I mean, I know the refugee part, duh. But, like, the reason behind that? Must be interesting
for a prince to be a refugee.” He cringes at that last part, hating how insensitive he comes off, but
knows it’ll only be worse if he were to try and backpedal.

He can see the struggle on Zuko’s face, clearly torn to answer or not. Eventually, he gives in with a
sigh. “It’s not. The reason we’re refugees in the first place is because Uncle helped save the moon
spirit during the invasion and it was seen as a betrayal.”

“And you? Why not just leave him here and run back home?” He wonders, considering everything
he knows about his soulmate. Wasn’t that what he wanted? To go back home and bring Aang with
him to give to his father? “Are you waiting until you can get to Aang?”

He shakes his head. “It’s not that simple. Because I sided with Uncle, was known to have tensions
with the Admiral who led the invasion, and failed to catch the Avatar, I was also labeled as a
traitor. We’re fugitives back home.”

“Oh,” And really, what more was there to say to something like that? Sokka couldn’t imagine what
it was like to be cut off from his home. He may not be there now but he always knew that if he
needed to, he’d be welcomed with open arms and warm smiles. “I’m surprised not everyone didn’t
have issues with that bag of dicks, though. What even happened to him?”

Zuko chokes on his tea and Sokka once again adds the small smile to his list of accomplishments.
But then it falls and he sighs. “The ocean spirit dragged him down.”

“Oh.” Ah, hello square one, it’s been too long. “Good riddance?”

Wait, that there! That’s another smile! Maybe he hadn’t gone back to square one. Maybe he was at,
like, square three. “Good riddance, if only so I don’t have to worry about him trying to kill me
again.”

Sokka nearly jumps to his feet, heart lurching in his chest. The teacups clatter with their saucers
and some of Zuko’s tea sloshes out onto the table. “Kill you?! When did that even happen?!
Weren’t you his prince?!”

The other boy is quick to steady the table, immediately wiping up the small spill with a spare
napkin. “It happened before the invasion. He tried to blow up my ship with me on it but I was far
enough away from the blast to escape mostly unscathed. If you have the, uh, the soulmarks on your
hip? That’s from then.”

He remembered getting it, his hip itching for well over a week before it was done forming. At the
time, he tried to mostly ignore it, figured an accident must have happened. Had he known he was
so close to having wilted marks, he might have felt differently then.

The panic must show on his face though because Zuko frowns at him. “Didn’t think you’d get so
upset.”

“Of course I’m upset!” He snaps, because dammit, he’s not heartless. “Say what you will about us.
I know things are really, really fucked. But regardless of all of that, you’re my soulmate. For some
reason, the spirits saw it fit to tie us together. And if you die?! Then we can’t figure out why!”

The scarred boy swallows thickly, lips pinched together. “Why do you care?”

He openly gapes at him, so far beyond confused it’s not even funny. “Because! Did you hear what
I just said?! The whole soulmate thing?! Look, the spirits gave me you. And I just want to know
why they gave me a… a--”

“Monster?” He finishes with a hollow laugh that will not and never will be included in the tally of
accomplishments.

Sokka shuts his mouth, just as he’s been asked to do from his soulmate on multiple occasions. He’d
claim it was ludicrous and deny Zuko immediately if it weren’t for how close it struck to home.
How many times had he asked himself that? How many times had he thought of Zuko as a
monster? It wasn’t even a distant thought. He’d only begun to not have them after seeing him
doubled over his uncle with violently shaking hands. It was only until the abandoned village that
he even began to see Zuko as a person and not just the face of the Fire Nation.

It’s with hesitant hands that he reaches forward, careful of scaring his soulmate away like a hurt,
cornered animal. His hand is warm in Sokka’s, far warmer than any other hand he’s ever held. But
 he doesn’t pull away, just looks at Sokka with bated breath and eyes so open and raw that Sokka
has to fight the urge to look away, his skin vibrating at being so seen. “No,” He begins, tongue
darting out to wet his lips. “I’ve seen monsters and while you can be scary, you’re no monster.”

It surprises him how much he truly means it. Zuko could have been a lot worse than he was and
it’s only now that Sokka realizes how fortunate they were for that. He still made mistakes but he’s
learning from them. He’s actively trying now. And no monster could look at him with such
heartbreaking eyes. That much, Sokka does know.

“Then, what?” He very carefully keeps unsaid words close to his chest and Sokka almost resents
him for it. He wants to hear them, wants a closer view of what goes on inside his mind, and why he
ticks the way he does.

Sokka focuses on the hand he’s allowed to hold, at least for right now, and his thumb caresses the
back of it as he thinks. “I don’t know. Not yet. But I’d like your help maybe figuring it out?”

A shuddered breath escapes the other boy and his long, elegant fingers grasp at Sokka’s almost
instinctively. “I suppose. If you’re certain.”

Sokka hadn’t known he was holding his breath until that moment, allowing himself to breathe as
relief floods him. “I wish I could say that I am but you make me the most uncertain person on
earth.” He tries to joke but it comes out a little too truthful.

Slowly, Zuko pulls his hand away, and for the first time, they have a conversation. There’s no
screaming, no shoving, and no fire. It’s proper and normal and Sokka, for the first time ever
regarding soulmates, doesn’t think the entire idea of them is entirely too far fetched.

Chapter End Notes

Yes, the number of chapters is growing. I blame the dumb boys. Hopefully, Sokka isn't
too OOC. In the show, I love him, but a lot of the times he's kind of reduced to the
comedic relief. He's a little more grown-up here, a little more serious, but I hope you
still like him. Also, yes, Suki and Toph are soulmates! That'll be addressed a little bit
more later on or possibly in a separate oneshot. We'll see. I've got a few people who I
wanna write. Like Lu Ten and his soulmate. Or Sela and her's.

As for the support and the comments, I cannot express my gratitude enough. I know
I've already said it, especially in the comments, but from the bottom of my heart, thank
you. I usually keep all my writings to myself and I'm so happy and relieved. Ngl, I was
real worried about it coming off as too cliche or my writing not properly doing this
story justice. Thanks to everyone, I feel a little more confident that I can.

ANYWAYS, the next chapter features even more fluff and it'll probably be out
tomorrow.
 my heart only knows your name
Chapter Summary

Dumb boys are dumb and happy.

Chapter Notes

This is a day later than I expected but it's here! Also, warning for very light sexual
content? It's more wholesome than sexual but still. For this fic, I imagine at this point,
Sokka is 16 and Zuko is 17.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Sokka was a long-gone, smitten fool. He’d thought it was bad in the North Pole but this was much
worse, to his expected surprise. There were days he walked to the Lower Ring to just get a glimpse
and a few short words from Zuko. He’d nurse a cup of tea for far too long, watching the once
prince buzz around the busy Tea House taking orders and serving the patrons. And when he had to
take his leave, it was with a heavy sigh and a heavier heart.

He was fairly certain the others knew something was going on. Something other than his slowly
forming tea addiction, that is. Soon enough, he’d end up like Iroh, spouting the benefits of tea
leaves to anyone who would listen. He was even beginning to be able to identify different teas and
how they helped the body.

But his new little tea quirks were well worth it to have the scarred teen in his sights. Especially on
the days he had off, which allowed for their conversations to be less stifling and proper as they
tended to be inside the Tea House.

If there was something Sokka learned out of all of this, it’s his soulmate’s apparent aversion to any
and all public displays of affection. Their clear status as soulmates was even too much sometimes,
causing them to be holed up inside the shoddy apartment for the better half of the day.

Sokka had never been a fan of silence. He found it too suffocating and his brain used it to create
impossible scenarios that only proved to be anxiety-inducing. And then he’d start to worry if he
was the only one going crazy in the silence which would serve as extra fuel to go, well, crazy in the
silence.

All that being said, Sokka found that he liked the silence around Zuko. Instead of sparking what-
ifs, it allowed a moment of peace in his head. He actually managed to focus his attention and
finally put in the effort to the new missing posters looking for Appa. And while he drew portrait
after portrait of the flying bison once more, remembering to include basic information and even
contact information, he kept half of his attention divided to just keep watch over Zuko.

He sat on the other end of the couch, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he read through a
variety of scrolls. If Sokka were to guess what they were about, he’d say politics. You can take the
Prince out of the Fire Nation but you can’t take the Prince out of the Prince. Or something of that
nature.

It also seemed Sokka wasn’t quite so smooth as he believed because said Prince met his gaze,
effectively catching him staring. “What is it?” He asks, rough and gruff, like something has to be
the matter for Sokka to want to look at him.

“Nothing!” He practically squeaks, his reasoning still causing him to flush.

He quickly turns back to the posters. They’re the third stack he’s worked on and Aang was
adamant on needing even more. The only benefit it seems to have is making Sokka better at
illustrating Appa. But with having gained Zuko’s attention, he also brings it to the missing posters.

“You still can’t find any leads?” He asks, glancing over Sokka’s shoulder.

He tries to not get too weird with the subject. But mentioning his sister or friends, especially Aang,
always leaves the air a little tense. “Not yet. And all the missing posters keep getting taken down.”

“I could keep an ear to the ground. People talk freely at Pao’s Tea House.” Zuko offers, eyes
darting away and lip caught between his teeth once more. No wonder it was bitten raw all the time.

It’s only his hesitance that eases Sokka. Hesitance that he might have overlooked if he didn’t
dedicate his time to watching the other boy so much. “Yeah. That’d actually help a lot.”

Zuko gives himself a small nod with an equally shy smile, no doubt all proud for putting himself
out there. Sokka can’t say anything, knows he does the same thing, and instead focuses on those
flip-flopping feelings in his chest cavity. He knows he should probably look away before he
eventually sparks any irritation. But he can’t, not when Zuko flushes the way he does at the
slightest bit of attention. Not when that reddened lip calls to him like a siren’s call.

He thinks if he were a braver man, he’d reach forward. Pull the other boy closer and allow himself
to fall into him. But what they have is tentative and Sokka isn’t ready to jeopardize what they’ve
managed to build in the past week. So, he turns away with a racing heart and manages to get a grip
on his hormones. Just, maybe not in the way he wanted.

It feels like a missed chance but he moves on, taking note every time their eyes meet, or the way
Zuko’s face contorts when he concentrates and he almost seems to be pouting. Even his hands
serve as a temptation, long and thin, his fingers as deliberate as an artist’s.

Maybe it’s because of all those little things or even the palpable tension that Sokka fears might be
one-sided. Maybe it’s Sokka embracing that warrior spirit he constantly strives for and for once
finally acting instead of thinking.

But when he goes to leave and Zuko dares to even seem disappointed, as if he’s the one slowly
dying, Sokka snaps. And in the doorway of the poorly upheld apartment, he acts on what he’s
wanted to for a while now.

He spins on his heels, startling the other boy if the wide eye is anything to go by. And he pulls him
as close as possible before he finally, finally manages to get a taste of those delicately pink lips. His
soul weeps at what feels like a reunion, like coming home after years and years of bad days.

Zuko, initially tense, very quickly warms in his arms. He willingly falls against the frame of the
door, letting him crowd against him, and Sokka can feel the prince’s violent heart beat against his
chest. If he were a romantic, and he admittedly is, he’d put stock in the way it felt like his own
heart raced in tandem.
It’s only the need for air that separates the two, both breathless and flustered. And it gives Sokka a
chance to marvel at the slip of a man he gets to hold. He realizes he likes Zuko’s lips like this best.
Red and raw because of him instead.

A few breaths is all they’re allowed it seems, this time Zuko being the one to pull Sokka flush
against him. He allows for a deeper taste and Sokka tries not to turn to mush as the delicacy that is
Zuko and jasmine flood his senses entirely. And all he can think is that this makes sense. This,
right here, is the rightest he’s ever felt.

If the desperate hands curled against his tunic and almost pained noises are anything to go by, and
he hopes they are, then he’s not the only one completely floored like a lovesick fool.

It takes a few moments before they untangle and Sokka rests his forehead against Zuko’s, trying
his hardest not to give away just how far gone he truly is. “Sorry.” He laughs, loosening his grip on
the smaller boy’s hips.

“Don’t be,” Zuko huffs, looking far too petulant for Sokka to not kiss again, even if just chastely.
His face grows even warmer in response but he looks more content than Sokka’s ever seen him.

“I should probably get going, huh?” And he really should, he’d promised his sister he’d be home in
time for dinner, but he makes no move to go.

Zuko nods, a frown pulling at those precious lips that he finally gets to say he kissed. “My uncle
will be home soon.”

So with a sigh and a courage he didn’t know it would take to simply leave, Sokka pulls himself
together. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

At that, the other boy snickers. “You’ll be at the tea house before we are tomorrow.”

“Obviously.” Sokka laughs, giving in to his urge again and pressing his lips against the crown of
Zuko’s head.

He finally heads home, feeling like his feet are headed in the opposite direction. And he leaves that
wonderfully complicated boy in the doorway with red cheeks and redder lips and feels it’s a shame
he doesn’t get to stand there and watch him all day.

He’s back later than expected, having gotten caught up in his own head and accidentally taking
wrong turns or missing them altogether. Despite the added time he’d had, his heart still hasn’t
calmed. Meaning that when he gets to the house, Toph turns his way with a quirked and curious
brow.

“And what have you been up to?” She questions, gaining the attention of the soulmate pair that
were caught up in longing glances.

“Nothing!” He defends, only serving to give himself away faster.

She scoffs. “I didn’t even need to sense that to tell it’s a lie.”

“Oh leave him alone, Toph,” Katara, his wonderful and perfect sister, chides. He really ought to be
nicer and tease her and Aang less. “He was probably getting tea with that crush again.”

Right. He takes it all back. His sister is a sneaky little traitor. “Hey! I was not!”

Aang skips over, positively beaming as he pokes at Sokka’s cheeks. “You’re blushing!”

Sokka quickly swats the hands away, only growing hotter when the younger boy jumps back with a
laugh. “You’re all evil!”

“Then what were you doing, lover boy?” Toph asks manically.

Knowing he can’t exactly bluff his way out of this, he does the best next thing. “I was seeing
someone.”

“Ooh? Who is it?” Katara feigns surprise, only making his exasperation grow.

“A waiter at that tea shop I go to.” He answers honestly, never so thankful for having kept the
name of the place a secret. “His name’s Lee.” Also not a lie, technically. In Ba Sing Se, that was
his official name, after all.

If he slipped up, Toph doesn’t call him out. “Ha! Someone’s got a crush! You’re heart’s going
crazy!” She teases instead, falling back onto the couch with mad cackles.

“I think it’s sweet!” His sister interjects, offering her best supportive smile.

“Totally!” Aang agrees. “You should invite him over sometime!”

“Especially if he makes you blush like that.” Katara ends up laughing as well, which of course
drags Aang into it as well.

Sokka stomps off to his cot, sliding the door as hard as possible. “I hate you all!” He shouts,
knowing they’ll hear him through the thin walls.

“Love you too!” Katara calls, Toph growing louder and he can picture her doubling over in her
giggle fit.

By the time dinner is done, they’ve wound down, and Katara pats his arm. He knows that they are
genuinely curious about meeting this new Lee person but sadly knows it’ll be a while before that
happens. For now, he’ll just have to be careful in keeping these two lives separate.

Life would be a lot simpler if Zuko really was just Lee. A scarred refugee who served tea with his
uncle. But, Zuko couldn’t just be one thing. Oh no, he had to go the extra mile and be so much
more than Sokka ever thought he’d be. It’s not simple but he thinks it might be nice. It’ll certainly
keep him on his toes, that much he knows.

❃❃❃

Zuko doesn’t quite know what to think of the past few weeks. Ever since Sokka walked through
those doors, it felt like this was all a dream. It didn’t feel real and he worried that it wasn’t.

But then the rough drum of his heart would remind him that this was all very, very real. And while
it was beyond overwhelming, he felt lighter than he had in years. Possibly lighter than he’d ever
felt his entire life. And for the first time, he genuinely allowed the possibility of a different future
in his mind.

One where he and his uncle settled down in Ba Sing Se under the lives they built for themselves.
Sokka would stay in the city and they’d be together. And behind the walls, the war would never
touch them.

It was unrealistic. But it was nice to imagine and he took full advantage of that. It was the only
pleasant outcome he had. Any other future was dark and dangerous and he preferred not to think
about them.

Not thinking about them was easier with his soulmate, as cliche as it sounded. It was the truth,
though. In his arms as he was now, such worries turned frivolous and became so very distant. And
when Sokka kissed him like he was now, he found that he didn’t even have to worry about things
as useless as thoughts. Not when he became so hyper-focused in the moment that his brain shut
down.

“I really have to take their orders,” He tries to remind himself, pulling away very reluctantly. The
bell had sounded just a few moments ago and if he didn’t go now, he’d have a peeved customer on
his hands.

Sokka pulls him back, distracting him once more with sweet honey kisses. “Well, what about my
order?” He suggests lowly, grinning against his lips.

“You’re not paying me.” Zuko points out, hands clenching around the other boy’s shoulders as he
begins peppering kisses against his neck.

He chuckles, grazing that pale skin with his canines. “Oh, but I could. I’ll even give you a nice
large tip, how about that?”

It’s this that finally snaps Zuko out of it. He rolls his eyes, pushing his soulmate off him as he
begins snorting at his own innuendo. “I don’t know how you’re allowed in public.”

“I’m not appreciated in my time!” Sokka cries out in indignation as he’s easily moved to the side.

Zuko shakes his head before finally going out to greet the patron. He does allow himself a moment
to straighten out his clothes and smooth over his grown-out hair. He really ought to ban that boy.
He’s far too distracting.

His uncle has surprisingly kept mum on the issue of who his soulmate is. Even in the beginning,
back when Zuko has been filled with so much anger, he’d kept his opinions to himself. It’s
something he’s always appreciated, that easy space and silence that Iroh has never been hesitant to
give when he needs it.

So it’s when they settle in for breakfast, the sun still rising from afar, that he broaches the subject.
“Am I doing the right thing?”

“Regarding what exactly, nephew?” He patiently replies, his eyes giving away that he knows
exactly what Zuko’s trying to bring up.
Still, he swallows his pride. “Hiding here. Doing what I’m doing with Sokka.”

Iroh hums, using his spark rocks to start the fire for his kettle. It’s only after the flame has steadied
that he bothers to respond, oblivious to how increasingly antsy his nephew becomes. “You worry
what your father will think.”

He nearly chokes, the concise statement punching the air from his lungs. “Yes.” He confirms with
a rasp.

“Well, Prince Zuko,” He begins pointedly, the previously abandoned title weighing heavily
between them. “I suppose you’re at the crossroad of deciding what is right to you, not anyone else.
Do you regret the choices you have made?”

“Some.” He answers easily, those exact memories coming to mind now. “But I feel like I could be
doing more, Uncle. That I’m wasting my time being here!”

He sighs, watching the flame flicker between them. There’s an unreadable expression written
across his face, leaving Zuko scrambling to try and decode it. “I guess the important question to
answer then is this: are you happy as things are?”

There’s no hesitation when his mind brings forth icy blue eyes and skin warmer than his own. He
never thought it would be possible but he realizes that it’s because of his soulmate that he’s happy
here. That he’s learned to take this simple lifestyle in stride and begin to heal from his own
inflicted anger.

But that doesn’t mean everything is perfect. He’s still facing a daunting, uncertain future and it
threatens to consume him every day. No measure of pretending will take away his own worries and
fears. “Sometimes but not always.”

“Then I suppose you should seek ways to amend your worries. But most importantly, be patient
with yourself, nephew. You are young but you have led a difficult life. You must ease yourself into
this newfound hope.” He advises, just in time as the kettle starts to whistle. “Oh! It’s done! Would
you like some ginseng tea?”

He shakes his head, caught on what he finally realizes is really hope. He hadn’t put that together
before. But Sokka has given him hope for his future and the odd acceptance from Ba Sing Se has
even played its role in making him feel less distanced from others. “Thank you, Uncle.”

Iroh had suggested fixing his worries. Perhaps that was more blandly said or Zuko was even
misreading the message but he took it and he ran. He couldn’t do much in terms of helping the
world but he could help Sokka.

Which, he knew, would in turn help the Avatar. He wasn’t ready to think about it in those terms
though, no yet, so it was strictly helping his soulmate. If it happened to help the boy he’d chased
around the world, well, that was unintentional.

He put renewed vigor into helping look for clues concerning the missing flying bison. He not only
kept an ear close to the ground but he combed through the city at night, once again donning his
mask. If the beast was here, then whoever had him was going through great lengths to keep him
hidden.
 It took weeks before he finally found his first lead. It was so simple, something he would have
easily overlooked if he hadn’t been desperately searching. A man had come into their new tea
house. It was even the grand opening of the Jasmine Dragon.

A man came in, dressed in fancy robes but wearing what were obvious work boots. And right on
the hell of his left foot, trailing after him, were white strands. Zuko felt a little crazy picking some
up but he knew what the bison’s fur felt like. It was distinct and unlike any other fur. And sure
enough, the barest strands gave it away.

When he looked back up at the room, he noticed his uncle looking his way, his expression
pinched. Zuko couldn’t blame him. His chest felt tight with the fact that if he did this, he was
officially a traitor. There was no excuse he could give himself. He’d be undoubtedly helping the
Avatar, no matter how he tried to reason it. This wasn’t for Sokka anymore.

Chapter End Notes

This chapter was a bit of a challenge. I just didn't really know what direction to take it
in besides cute and wholesome and a little touch of soul searching (looking at you,
Zuko.) But I also might have broken two nails entirely off so typing is a little hard
right now which means progress might be a little slowed. Don't worry, I'll figure
something out! Chapter updates will still be a regular occurrence. Next chapter should
be more exciting though. I've seen people question what'll happen in the final
showdown in season 2 and I'm curious to know what direction you think I'm going.
Throw out some speculations if you want!

PS, I love y'all and I will take a bullet for every one of you. These comments are like
my oxygen at this point, dudes.
 stop me from setting us aflame
Chapter Summary

Zuko has always been his mother's son.

Chapter Notes

It's here, finally! The crystal caves and Zuko's decision.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Coughing for the hundredth time that day, Zuko figured he was coming down with a cold or
something of that nature. He wasn’t one to get ill easily but with stress toppled on top of recently
being in a dusty room with a soaking, skin-tight suit, he figured he was lucky it wasn’t worse.

At least he freed that giant bison before he came down with whatever he had. And he knew it got
back to the Avatar, seeing the group fly away on the thing by the time he crawled out of that weird
secretive facility. He still didn’t know what his soulmate and his friends were doing there and tried
to fend off the panic due to the fact he hasn’t seen him since. It’s only been a couple of days, after
all.

Uncle was there, though. Even helped him dispose of the suit and mask when he got back, no
longer wanting to help the Avatar just so it could benefit himself in the long run. Plus he kept him
drinking tea all day, the herbs apparently meant to help his body. He didn’t question it. He was too
tired to, anyways.

It was only when he’s able to work again that he finally sees Sokka. He’s cleaning a table when he
comes crashing through the front doors of Iroh’s tea shop, far too reminiscent of what should have
been their first meeting. It startles a number of customers, earning Sokka quite a bit of glares that
he’s either oblivious to or blatantly ignoring. Instead, he rushes forward, wrapping his arms around
the smaller teen.

“I don’t know how you did,” He whispers against the shell of his good ear. “But thank you.”

With a secretive smile, he pulls away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sokka rolls his eyes, pulling Zuko along to the kitchen despite the reminders of waiting customers.
He goes through the process of making sure they aren’t seen and can’t be disturbed before he
breaks out into a wide, infectious grin. “Appa saved us. We were surrounded by Dai Li agents and
he somehow escaped wherever he was and allowed us to getaway. It was absolutely crazy! There
was a facility and they were teaching these girls to be the same person and Katara’s ex-friend even
died!”

“Wait, someone died?” Zuko asks slowly, bringing Sokka arms back by his side and not swinging
in the air. He knew there was loss where the Avatar went, usually before rather than after his visits,
the Northern Water Tribe being the only exception, but he didn’t know how dangerous their
adventures could be without the involvement of the Fire Nation. “Are you okay?”

Sokka doesn’t answer, just looks at Zuko all funny like, as if he’s finally turned into a talking
turtle-duck. Then, once the corner of his lips have pulled to make a small smile, he shakes himself
out of it. “I… yeah, I’m okay. You’re stuck with me, you jerk. I’m not going anywhere. Now, like I
was saying, crazy shit.”

He listens to the recount of events, only somewhat surprised by the political drama of it all. And
finally, he announces how Zuko truly is stuck with him, sharing the news of everyone’s departure
to do their own thing. Including how his sister is the one to see their father.

“You didn’t have to stay.” Zuko reminds him, all too familiar with that ache to reconnect with one's
father.

Sokka shushes him, taking his hands into his own. “I made my choice and I’m sticking to it. I
know where I need to be and that’s here. Being with you is just a perk,” He laughs, bringing
Zuko’s hand up and pressing a chaste kiss against the inside of his wrist. “Besides, Katara would
have put off talking with him till the end of this war if she wasn’t pushed to do so. She needs to see
him. Before it festers too much.”

“I think,” He lowly begins. “That you don’t realize how kind you are. Your sister is lucky to have
you, Sokka.”

He snorts, shaking his head. “It’s the other way around, I assure you. She had to put up with me,
after all!”

“Well, speaking from experience, it’s not that hard to do.” Zuko counters, because damn it, Sokka
is good and he deserves to at least recognize that.

And then he’s snickering, mouth opened to say something Zuko knows will make him cringe if the
mad look in his eyes is anything to go by. “It’s plenty hard, especially for you.” He can barely
finish his own sentence, too busy cackling whIle Zuko rolls his eyes so far into the back of his head
he worries they’ll get stuck. But then he sobers, leaning heavily against him.

Zuko gladly welcomes the weight, even wrapping his arms around the other boy’s lean waist.
“Life is unexpected. So, maybe you’ll see your father sooner than expected.”

“Maybe.” He concedes with a sigh.

The letter is delivered when the Jasmine Dragon is almost empty, most customers chased out by
the approaching closing time. On it is an official seal and for a moment, Zuko feels his heart race
with worst-case scenarios filling his head. Even Iroh seems taken aback as he retrieves it from the
carrier, opening it with a rare hesitance.

He pours over the words and it’s only Sokka’s bravery to speak that the deafening silence is cut to
bits. “What does the Earth King want?” He asks as if he hasn’t personally met and spoken with the
figurehead.

Iroh breaks out into a wide grin, waving the scroll above his head. “We’re invited to serve the King
our finest tea tomorrow evening!”
“What? Why? How does he even know about us?” Zuko can’t help but worry, truly not wanting to
hurt his uncle with his speculations but he wants not to be arrested a little more.

“I mean,” Sokka shrugs, rising from his chair to look at the letter over Iroh’s shoulder. “This place
is pretty well known. It’s not far-fetched that he heard of Mushi’s amazing teas.”

It’s the alias that reminds him not to be weird… er, weirder… in front of the guests, no matter how
few there are at this point. So he stifles all his suspicions for now and allows himself the joy for
his uncle’s accomplishment. “You’re right. Congratulations, Uncle.”

“I could not have gotten here without you, nephew.” He beams.

“Don’t discredit your hard work. You earned this.” He insists before turning his focus to the boy
with the white petals etched into the side of his face. “Will you be there?”

At this, Sokka turns sheepish and shakes his head. “No, I won’t be able to. I’m planning to meet
with the Kyoshi Warriors in the evening.”

“I’ll save you a cup then, Sokka,” Iroh promises warmly, patting his shoulder.

“I appreciate it.” He says with a small nod.

By the time the boy leaves, Sokka has given many warnings to be careful since he’s convinced
Zuko’s fever isn’t completely gone. It doesn’t help that Iroh backs him up despite the once prince
feeling absolutely fine. Still, he sees their point and promises to take it easy.

He doesn’t take it easy. As it turns out, they were never there to serve the Earth King. It takes all
he has to fight off the Dai Li that swarms them and it’s a conscious, purposeful choice that he
makes to let his uncle escape. When they finally pin him down, brought to his hands and knees by
the very earth beneath him, he accepts his defeat with a scowl and a rough cough that threatens to
shatter his ribcage.

They throw a bag over his head and practically drag Zuko behind them. Where they go, he doesn’t
know, too caught up in trying to get free from his rock shackles. Yet, it seems the more he
struggles, the tighter they get.

When they do remove the bag, he barely gets a glance at his surroundings before he’s sent
tumbling down a tunnel. He feels every bump and rock on the way down and when he finally
reaches steady ground, he takes his time rising to his feet.

Around him are luminescent crystals that protrude out of every part of the cave. If circumstances
had been different, if he hadn’t been sent down here by force and trapped as a prisoner, then he
would have taken time to admire the beauty of it all.

He combs through the cave, desperate for a way out, and sighs every time his search fails. He
knows from the fall alone that he’s far too underground for anyone to hear him and it’s a chilling
thought. It leads him to pondering about what they want from him. What they can even achieve by
having him. He’s no use to his family, dead to his nation, and the city is still hesitant to bring the
war to the forefront of anyone’s mind despite finally accepting that there is a war at all.
He nearly tears his hair out in frustration. Wants to yell and scream like he hasn’t in ages. He only
holds back from the exhaustion that weighs him down. It seems he really should have taken it easy
and he would have, had he not needed to fight. And subsequently fail but that was another matter
entirely.

And then, miraculously, the tunnel opens once more. He rushes to it, prepares himself to climb it if
need be. But then there’s a shout that echos down and he jumps back, eyes wide as he waits for the
body to hit the ground. It takes a moment but then there’s a shock of blue and a flash of
recognition.

When the figure sits up, Zuko rushes forward, quick to help the boy up. “Sokka! What are you—
what, what’s going on?!”

“Oh geez,” He huffs, leaning against a protruding crystal as he brushes himself off. “Your sister is
one sneaky bitch. No offense."

This gives him pause, only remembering the empty room they’d been led to and the agents that lied
in wait. “My sister?!”

“Yeah, was pretending to be Suki. As if I couldn’t tell the difference.” He scoffs before his eyes
widen and he frantically begins to look Zuko over like the mother-hen he often accuses Katara of
being. “Wait, you’re here. What happened?! Are you hurt?! Where’s Iroh?!”

“I’m okay!” Zuko says with practiced patience. “We went to serve the King but there was no one
there. Then the Dai Li jumped out and Iroh escaped while I distracted them.”

“I’m surprised your uncle let you do that.” Sokka marvels, leading to Zuko flushing bright pink as
he remembers Iroh hollering up at him to escape. His uncle hadn’t exactly been pleased by the turn
of events.

So, he shrugs, not willing to say just how upset he’d seen Iroh the last he saw the man. “Did you
see what area we’re under?”

“No,” Sokka answers with a slow shake of his head. “Any way to get out?”

“None. I’ve checked everywhere.” Zuko sighs, worrying his lip as he realizes the predicament
they’re in with full force once more.

“Good thing I brought my boomerang,” The other boy says in an attempt to brighten his hopes.
“Maybe we can, like, dig a way out?”

Zuko debates shooting it down before he heaves yet another sigh and lets his shoulders sag. “I
guess it’s something.”

It’s only after giving up and residing to staring at the wall that they hear it. The earth shifting
towards them sends them to their feet and they prepare for the worst. For his sister or for her newly
acquired army.

When the wall finally gives way, it’s neither. In place of what they’d feared was an army is instead
the Avatar and the once-revered Dragon of the West. They quickly rush to the soulmate pair, each
hugging the person they’d come searching for.

“Aang! Oh man, you’re my savior! I thought we’d be goners for sure!” Sokka exclaims brightly,
throwing his arms around the monk.

Zuko, in turn, is practically squished by Iroh’s tight hug. “Uncle! What’s the Avatar doing here?”
He asks less because of who he was with and more because he remembers Sokka telling him how
the boy was going on some spiritual adventure.

“Helping me find you, nephew. Now hurry on, I fear we were trailed.” He answers, pulling away
with plenty of hesitance.

Sure enough, there’s that same noise from before, the earth shifting against itself like a small
earthquake. Except for this time, it comes from two opposite ends of the cave, one behind the
furthest wall and the other in the same newly made tunnel.

“That must be Katara and Toph!” The Avatar exclaims, practically vibrating where he stands.

“We’ll stay here. The two of you go check on the other side.” Iroh instructs, keeping a firm grip
around Zuko’s wrist.

Sokka nods despite the clear discontent in his shoulders from separating like they were. “Keep
each other safe. I’ll see you once this is all over.”

The wall almost seems to explode as rock is thrown aside at Aang’s command. And Zuko sees his
inquisitive stare, only distantly hearing his question over whether or not the pair were on friendly
terms. He tries not to focus on it, instead straining his hearing on the tunnel.

“Funny you ask,” Sokka’s awkward laughs echo enough that Zuko hears them still. “That’s Lee.”

He doesn’t hear anything beyond that, can’t really try to anyways as Iroh calls his name. “They
will be here soon so I will make this quick, nephew. You have made me so proud and I am
honored to have seen you blossom into the young man who stands before me now,” He gives a
soft, serene smile, and its enough to have Zuko realizing the finality of his words. “Now, I will
distract them. You can run and make it still, Zuko.”

He tries to find something to say in response but the air has been knocked from his lungs. This, he
realizes, is it. He can never be Lee ever again. That person has been ripped from his hands far too
soon and now he’s left with these brittle pieces of Zuko that he doesn’t know what to do with. If
they’re even worth saving, cleaning up, and being made new again. It’s in this struggle that there’s
a loud thud and three figures land on their feet. Just as quickly, his uncle is encased in the
protruding crystals, now tripled their original size.

“Yes, Prince Zuko,” His sister smiles with far too many teeth. It reminds him of the piranha-sharks
he’d been warned about as a child and it’s quite a fitting comparison. Both predators facing their
prey already knowing they’ll come out the victor. “Feel free to run off like the traitor dear old
Uncle wants you to be and rot into nothing. Or… regain your honor tonight. Join me now and
make Father proud for once.”

“You don’t need me!” He won’t fall for her tricks, not again. “You have an entire army backing
you here!”

“True.” She hums, eying him closely before she softens with a sigh. “Alright, yes, I might have an
army, but imagine the glory when you come home a hero. That not only did the princess make Fire
Nation history but the prince helped her. You’ll be restored in their eyes, Prince Zuko. No longer
cast out or banished. Don’t you want to make our people proud to call you their Prince? To have
you be the one they look to for guidance once you take Father’s place?”

Her words, always so tempting when she wants them to be, drive into his head syllable by syllable
until it threatens to drive him crazy. He knows this game, he should be better at it by now. Yet, he
still lashes out in anger and a great shout. “Stop it! You don’t mean any of this!”

“Don’t I?” She argues, stepping closer till they’re only a foot apart. “I want you home, Zuzu. Your
people want their Prince home. Restore your honor here today and you can grant these wishes. It’s
time, isn’t it? Or are you really going to be selfish and choose yourself over them?”

“Don’t listen to her!” Iroh finally interjects with a cry. “She is saying what you want to hear, Zuko!
It’s all lies!”

She gives an indignant scoff, the scowl far scarier on her than it ever could be on Zuko. “It’s not a
lie that the Fire Nation wishes for their prince to come back home and serve them as he’s meant
to.”

“Think about what you have made for yourself, nephew! Think about what you have achieved and
how much you have grown! Of all the love you’ve found!” Iroh tries desperately, still not
struggling against the crystals that light up his face.

Zuko, knuckles white from how tightly he’s clenching his hands together, finally snaps. “Shut up!
The both of you!”

For once, people listen. Or at least, they do for a moment before Azula feels the need to say the last
word. “You make your decision but remember this. Even Mom made sacrifices.”

She flees after, knowing that such a sensitive topic would make him flare-up. Zuko shakes where
he stands, not even hearing his uncle has his eyes grow heavy and hot. He reminds himself that
Azula always lies. Except when the truth hurts more. Exactly like right now.

His mother, with her soulmate back in her hometown and her heart bruised and broken by his
father. She’d made that sacrifice for their people and she’d even told him that many had to make
the same decision. One between the heart versus responsibility and duties.

He people, war-torn as the rest of the world. His people, taking the honor of the Fire Nation and
dragging it through the dirt just to get away with awful deeds. His people, corrupt and deeply hurt.
Did his father know? Or was he so detached from the rest of the world that these things went
unseen?

But then there was Sokka. With his cold eyes and warmer heart. So good that it made his heart
ache if he pondered it for too long. It would mean joining him or leaving him behind in the worst
way possible. It would mean fighting his soulmate and betraying him.

He entertained the thought of joining them for just a single second. There was no room for him and
he wasn’t needed nor even trusted by the other members of the group. He’d be a walking target for
them and he couldn’t do that. Every future he saw with them involved them being hunted down
and imprisoned or killed. He had nothing to offer. Even the information about his own Nation was
outdated and useless.

Zuko, with a chilling realization, comes to his decision. He wants to crumple to the floor of the
crave, let nature consume him so he doesn’t have to do this. Because he was right when he
mentioned his sister having an army. Full of masters, even. How could they possibly survive that?
Let alone escape? In a mad way to make sense of his choice, he figured at least this way, he could
prevent anyone from dying.

Maybe he could even talk to his father, explain how the world views them, and make some sort of
case for how many soldiers abuse their power? Perhaps, returning home with glory and self-
restored honor like Azula promised, his father finally just listen ?

His mind brings him back to that family who took him in under false pretenses. Of a mother with
wilted soulmarks who couldn’t be happier. She said people got to choose their happy endings. And
maybe, just maybe, he’d gotten a taste of his. Maybe that was more than he ever deserved.

In another reality, they could’ve been happy. There really would have been no war in Ba Sing Se
and he’d simply be Lee. But this was a lie. He was more than a refugee and he had more than
himself to think about. He was a Prince of people who had gone astray for far too long and
someone had to do something .

He wasn’t choosing a happy ending but he was picking a better outcome. He had to be. There was
no other way unless he wanted to go down fighting and then he’d truly be useless. He wouldn’t
choose himself over his people. He’d make the same choice his mother made all those years ago
and he prayed to Agni it was the right step in pushing his people into the light once more.

“I’m sorry, Uncle.” He chokes out, his bones as weak as paper as he walks away. He ignores the
desperate, pleading cries for him to not do this. If he were to pay them any head, he’d fall and
crumple like he feared.

And when he makes his way out of the small area, he sees the battle that has unfolded before him.
There’s a number of Dai Li agents fighting off the small blind girl, his soulmate is tackling a few,
his soulmate’s sister is whipping more than a few with water, and finally, he spots his sister and the
Avatar caught in a fight between water and fire.

He sees them come to a stalemate and uses all the force he can muster to make his way to them. He
feels numb and cold and he doesn’t want this. Doesn’t want to go through with this despite
knowing how crucial it is that he must.

He keeps his eyes down, too afraid of giving himself away. He lands a fire whip between the duo
and the room seems to still just as his lungs threaten to stop working entirely. And all of a sudden,
the drum of his heart is far too loud and he thinks it might echo if it gets any louder.

It’s a mistake to look up. Because when he finally dares to, he meets Sokka’s loving gaze and he
just seems so thrilled. He’s come to the wrong conclusion and Zuko reaches for his own chest,
feeling it cave into itself as he’s completely torn apart by his own designs.

It seems the dread he feels is palpable enough though and Sokka steps back slowly, eyes widening
with a pain that makes Zuko want to rip his own heart out over and over again. There’s ruination
behind his eyes that wasn’t there even a moment ago. ‘ No,’ He mouths silently. ‘Please, no. Don’t
do—’

Zuko turns away, unable to even look at this beautiful, perfectly good being any longer. And he,
finally, falls back into his own skin as roughly as he fell down that tunnel. He puts on a false
bravado as he’s forced to embrace the Prince he was born as.

He lashes out the best way he knows how, kicking a wave of fire towards the Avatar and
cementing his fate once and for all with clammy hands and bleeding lips.
Chapter End Notes

Oooh boy, this chapter. I rewrote it like three times just to figure out certain details.
I've always known Zuko's decision, though, and I hope it doesn't disappoint the
excitement everyone had for it. His reasoning is less "Have Daddy love me and have
honor!" and more "This is for my people. I have to do what's best for my people
because I'm still technically a prince." I know his reasoning in cannon isn't that basic
when boiled down but still. Sorry for the wait though. I really intended to have this out
sooner but work, classes, and certain details of this chapter wanted to torture me
instead.
I also realized I've failed to give my Tumblr this entire time. It's garnetpains. Come
bother me there if you want!
 take these hands that held your heart
Chapter Summary

Just as Zuko is his mother's son, Sokka is his father's child.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

No one dares to speak once they escape. All that’s heard is Katara’s sobs as she focuses all of her
being into healing her soulmate. And even when she’s done all she can do, she clutches at the new
wide, open petals that look a sickly yellow with their given context.

Sokka can’t bear to watch her. Not when she’s compulsively going over the soulmarks every other
minute. Not when his own feel like marks of ash smeared against his flesh. Not when the savior of
the world, the young boy he saw as a brother, was barely alive.

He feels a shaky hand wrap around his wrist and he covers it with his own palm. “He’s gonna be
alright.” He speaks it with every fiber of his being as if he can will it into existence.

“He better be,” Toph says so quietly that it’s worrying. He’s reminded of just how young she is and
even though she took out dozens of agents back in that cave, he doubts she’s had to deal with
something like this. Something as looming and awful as death.

Some time passes as they seem to fly aimlessly, his sister still cradling Aang on the top of Appa’s
head. She holds the reins but her attention is locked onto the unconscious teen with an intensity
that twists up Sokka’s heart even further.

“Katara,” He calls softly. “Where are we going?”

They’d been flying above oceans for hours, long enough for Toph to fall asleep against his side,
her fingers still wrapped tightly around his wrist. And he’d put off asking, not wanting to disturb
her or pull attention away from Aang, but the worry was starting to creep in.

“We have nowhere else to go but to Dad.” She answers with a sniffle, wiping at her nose with the
back of her hand.

If he’d been told this even just a day ago, he’d be ecstatic but now it just leaves a bitterness in his
mouth. He didn’t want it to be this way but then again, that’s how life seemed to be as of late. At
least he’d be able to see his dad soon even though it was under such tense contexts. “That sounds
perfect. We can recuperate there.”

She nods and he pretends not to see her dry her cheeks. “Are you okay?” She asks in that prying
way of hers, seeing through him far more easily than he’d like to admit.

He scoffs at the notion. After all, he’s not holding his soulmate’s half-dead body. He’s not the one
who had to fight to catch his soulmate while doubled overdue the intense pain of a sudden and
terrifying mark bloomed across his back. “I’m alright,” He lies easily. “It would be stupid to ask if
you’re alright. But is there anything I can do?”
Katara just stares at him, eyes boring into his soul and laying his mind bare. He hates when she
does this. He absolutely blames it on their dad as she clearly learned it from him. And finally, she
gives a slow nod and a weak but present smile. “There is one thing you can do for me. You can
forgive yourself. You didn’t do this. You are not the reason for what happened. And I’ve known
you my whole life so I know how you can think. You’re not responsible for everyone anymore.
You never were.”

He can’t manage any words, everything he could ever say getting lodged in his throat. Just as he’d
done for her, she ignores the gestures in drying his eyes. He has to fight the words out, letter by
letter threatening to get trapped behind his teeth, but he manages. For her. “I’ll try. But for now,
we focus on Aang and his recovery.”

“Right.” This time, her smile isn’t quite so devastated.

It’s been days and Aang still won’t wake up. It’s enough to send everyone on edge as they wait for
him to come back to the land of the living and it’s almost maddening to constantly keep having to
stay quiet at ports. The world believes its last hope is dead.

Katara stays quiet but it seems her previous visit helped any preexisting tension. She can be snippy,
Sokka knows that from personal experience, but she also apologizes within the hour. Oddly
enough, he doesn’t count it against her. Instead, he adds it to a list of slights by the Fire Nation.
Specifically the royal members. Or even just the one.

No one mentions Aang’s state to Katara and Toph has given enough vague information to make
sure Sokka’s soulmate is never mentioned. He knows they at least have an idea about who his
soulmate is. It’s not coveted information. In fact, it’s what he’s known for in some parts. What he’s
judged most harshly for.

And to think, he’d taken joy in comparing the shade of his soulmarks to the softness of the snow
found back in the Southern Water Tribe. He’d almost compared it to the snow in their sister tribe
since he’d seen it as pristine and upheld in elegance but then he considered the person he once
thought he knew. That man had been homely and almost gentle.

Whoever that was must have died with Aang in that spirits damned cave. Except there was no
Katara that would resurrect them back to life. That person hadn’t even been real to begin with, not
if he could have done what he did.

“Be careful with the world on your shoulders,” Hakoda warns as he leans next to Sokka, both
overlooking the ocean. “I hear it's a crushing weight.”

Sokka takes a deep breath, tries to clear the jasmine and tea from his senses, and focuses on the
salty air. “I’ll take my chances.”

His father sighs like it’s he who suddenly carries the weight. “What’s on your mind, son?”

“Nothing.” He snaps harsher than intended but not taking it back. He doesn’t want to discuss this.
Hardly wants to think about it as it is.

“I take it this is about the Prince,” He astutely points out like it was ever really a challenge to come
to that conclusion.
His hands tighten around the edge of the ship, knuckles paling drastically. He feels far too exposed
and suddenly, just by the reference to his soulmate, it’s like his skin has shrunk a size too small for
him to fit. “Dad, don’t. Please. I can’t do this.” He grits out through clenched teeth.

“Well, you’re going to have to, son. This isn’t going to go away, you know that.” Hakoda pats his
back and to both of their surprise, Sokka moves away as if burned.

“What- what do you want me to say?” He rasps, his nails digging into the hardwood. “What could
I possibly say that the world doesn’t already know at this point?! The spirits fucked up! And life,
like always, gave me a short end of the stick!”

“It’s hard, Sokka. And I’m so sorry-”

“Sorry?!” He counters, cutting his father up as something in his chest flares up. “You’re sorry?!
Why?! I’m the one who… who… fuck, Dad. For weeks, I knew he was in the city. Weeks. I
could’ve… Maybe I could’ve stopped this from happening. Turned him in to the authorities or told
the others or something. Anything! Not play fucking house!”

“Look at me,” His dad gently says, hand warm against his shoulder. “You couldn’t have prevented
what happened. You didn’t do this, kid. It was the girl who shot Aang out of the sky that did. Not
you.”

Sokka blinks away the hotness in his eyes and nods, leaning into the man’s hold. He wants to
believe him, wants to believe Katara too, but it’s hard. Logically, he knows it isn’t on him. He
knows it lies on the Fire Nation and their cruel greed to monopolize everything and twist it into
their image.

He wonders if this is what his soulmate did. Twisted Sokka up so badly until he was a sick
imitation of his own reflection. Zuko had forced his way into Sokka’s senses, trust, and heart and
then he completely ruined it all. Ruined it like everything else the Fire Nation touches.

But Hakoda isn’t finished and he pulls his almost grown son into his arms. “As for knowing he
was there, you did what everyone else would do. You trusted someone, your soulmate, and you got
to know them. Sometimes you have to live and learn and it hurts. It really does. But you survive it
and you come out stronger for it.”

“What if I don’t?” He asks as he pulls away. “Look at who my soulmate is! He is everything
wrong with the Fire Nation! He… he burns everyone he touches and he is the product of monsters.
And I was pathetic enough to somehow overlook that! To actually… actually,” He feels the words
choke him and he debates letting them. He debates giving in to it, if only for a moment, and it’s a
thought that chills him more than anything else ever has. “I made myself a fool. I actually trusted
him. And he proved what his roots are by siding with the Fire Nation. I guess there’s just one
question left.”

“What’s that?” Hakoda follows the prompt cautiously. He looks ready to hug Sokka again and he
wishes he could let him. But right now, every nerve ending is hyper-aware and it would just drive
him crazier.

“What’s that say about me? If my soulmate, the literal other half of my soul, is apparently a
monster, what’s that say about me?” His voice cracks and he hates sounding like that young boy
begging to join the men in war.

Hakoda seems to give in to the urge and finally hugs him again. And this time, Sokka doesn’t pull
away. “You are no monster, you’re my son. I can’t excuse who your soulmate is but I will tell you
this. You are more than your soulmate and you are brilliant in everything you do. Don’t discredit
who you are, ever, for anyone.”

Sokka’s practically shaking, clutching at Hakoda’s shirt like he had when he was just a child. “I
love you, Dad.” He mumbles weakly.

“I love you too, son. And I’m so proud of how you’ve grown. Don’t forget that.” He sighs softly,
rubbing the teen’s back as his shoulders begin to shake with silent sobs.

They steal a Fire Nation vessel and the red has Sokka reeling. It only serves to mock him and
maybe that’s why he gets rid of everything red like it carries the plague. The only thing that
doesn’t go is their disguises for the sake of blending into the ship so it looks like they belong. So
they look like Fire Nation.

Every part of him protests as he dons the uniform of a soldier and it feels like it constricts with
every breath he takes in it. But he welcomes the suffocation if it means they get through blockades
without issue. It wouldn’t do to have Aang discovered, not after weeks of keeping him safe and
hidden.

The fact that he still won’t wake is something they try not to broach. Especially with Katara. He
thought she was bad after their mom died but this is almost worse. She’s already looking thinner
and every day there are dark circles under her eyes is another tally added for reasons to hate the
Fire Nation. Safe to say, he’s running out of room on his mind board.

There’s a clank as a metal tray is dropped onto the table next to Sokka with little grace, the heavy
footsteps crossing out three potential others it could be. “So, guess who I just talked to.”

“Well, the options are limited,” Sokka deftly points out with a sigh. “But considering the tone, I’m
guessing my dad or sister.”

“Your dad, actually. Good guess.” Bato warmly laughs, patting his back. “We were talking and he
let a few things slip. So, I just wanted to come and check up on you.”

He pushes his own tray away now, his food hardly touched. “Thanks but I’m all good.”

Bato doesn’t take his shortness personally though he does shake his head. “It’s scary how alike you
are to Hakoda.”

This gives him pause and he turns around with as much disbelief as possible. Sokka didn’t see it
and the fact that Bato managed to draw such a conclusion felt like pity more than anything. As if it
would be a comfort instead of a slap in the face for his dad. “Take no offense to this, but how?
Dad… He’s better at this.”

“What do you mean by this?”

“I don’t know,” Sokka exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. “Life? Protecting loved ones?
Being a leader?”

He expects several things from Bato. There’s a mixture of reactions that could come from such an
outcry. What he doesn’t expect is to be cuffed upside the head hard enough to have him cry out.
Bato doesn’t even look apologetic as Sokka turns to face him, flabbergasted beyond the point of
making actual words. He barely managed a short, “Wha-why?!”

“Don’t talk like that. You’re a good kid. Actually, I take that back, you’re a good man.” He
corrects himself quickly, shaking out his stinging hand. “Listen, Sokka. When I gave you the Mark
of the Wise, I meant it. It’s the same mark your dad got, by the way. And if you question that, you
question me!”

“Right, wise. Look at how wise I’ve been lately,” Sokka tries to laugh but it doesn’t come out
right, the laugh scraping against his ribcage until it comes out hollow sounding. “Really living up
to that.”

“Alright, enough,” Bato quickly interrupts, gently shoving his shoulder. “Look, you got your heart
broken, but that doesn’t make you a fool. You know what it makes you?”

He almost doesn’t want to hear it and ends up nodding despite himself. “What?”

“It makes you out to be someone who cares about others until it breaks them. It shows signs of a
leader who will listen and help others even if it hurts you in the long run. It makes you your
father’s son, Sokka.” Bato explains pointedly, each word packed with so much intensity that Sokka
knows he believes it all.

He doesn’t say anything to it, can’t find the right words even if everything depended on it. Bato
doesn’t judge him for it, never has, and he finishes his lunch before cleaning up and heading back
to the deck.

Sokka sits there for a while more, watching people he hasn’t seen in years come and go between
shifts. He knows he should be doing something helpful but at the moment, his brain fails to work,
simply processing what Bato had told him.

Aang joins them in the realm of the conscious once more and he does so with a vengeance. He
hates it, hates being hidden and secreted away while the world slowly loses hope, and Sokka
knows that. And maybe that’s part of the reason he even goes out of his way to avoid the younger
boy.

He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, not until Aang finally corners him with those wide, confused
eyes, looking far too close to being genuinely hurt. “Why’ve you been avoiding me? Did I do
something? You’ve got to tell me because I’ve been going crazy trying to figure it out! Is it
because I threw out the meat that one time? It was going bad, Sokka! You would have gotten sick!”

“What? No!” Sokka interjects before the anxiety consumes Aang completely. “No, it’s nothing. I
wasn’t even meaning to and if I gave that impression off, I’m sorry.”

Aang sighs. “You’re still not looking at me.”

Which, fine. That’s fair. Sokka deliberately turns his eyes onto the monk and meets his eyes. “I am
now.”

“Come on, just talk to me. Are you mad about something?” He frowns, looking every part like a
disgruntled teen.
 Debating banging his head against the metal wall, Sokka shakes his head. “No, I’m not mad! I’m
just… I’m sorry, alright? I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? For what?” He doesn’t get it and Sokka doesn’t blame him for that. He hardly gets it
himself.

“I don’t know,” He shrugs, eying the metal wall that’s looking more appealing by the second. “I
guess for you almost dying? You almost died, Aang. You know that, right?”

It’s Aang that looks away this time and there’s a darkness that creeps into the corners of his eyes
that wasn’t there before. “I know. Katara, she told me. But that’s not on you.”

“I should’ve protected you. I should’ve been looking out for everyone and I wasn’t.” He argues,
because truth be told, he was still haunted by Aang falling as he did. They all were. For a split
second, they almost lost him, and he’d never considered that a real possibility before. His fall
meant death was real for them and that wasn’t something that felt so heavy before. “I’m so sorry,
Aang.”

The younger boy seems to blink back tears as he rushes forward and hugs him. “I never once
blamed you, Sokka. But if it helps you heal, then I forgive you, for whatever wrongs you believe
you committed.”

He doesn’t move the boy, not yet. And he tries not to hyper-fixate on just how odd it is to see him
with hair, let alone feel it beneath his chin. He sniffles a few times and manages to get it under
control before the waterworks begin. “I don’t know what the world is worried about. I think we
might be in pretty good hands.”

“Hands that are supported by so many others. I’m not alone in this.” Aang adds on before stepping
back lightly.

Sokka laughs and it actually feels full. “You couldn’t get rid of us if you tried at this point.
Especially Katara.”

The kid just dons a dopey smile that results in him rolling his eyes as far back as possible. “I don’t
know how I got so lucky.”

By the time they part ways, Sokka realizes that maybe things might actually work out. Maybe they
can actually do this. They’ve clearly got enough luck between all of them to actually pull it off,
even if his own might drag it down a bit.

He might have loved and lost but he didn’t lose everything. He still had his family, he still had
himself, and he still had hope. Things would be okay simply because they had to be. And if they
weren’t, he knew everyone would fight until they were.

Chapter End Notes

Sokka likes to fight me with his perspective. I still enjoy writing it but he makes me
work for it, what can I say? He might have been a little out of character but I figured it
gets a pass considering what he's just been through. Next chapter will be in a week and
it'll be a Zuko one. I'm excited about it so I hope y'all are too! Hint hint, Ozai.
 hide your demons as they tear you apart
Chapter Summary

The Fire Nation is rife with politics and Azula has always carved her own way.

Chapter Notes

Fair warning, Ozai is garbage.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“Father will be proud,” Azula reminds him.

He tries to put stock into her words. Tries to feel anything for them or for achieving what he’s
always wanted, even as a child. But the words don’t ring true, not to him, and he welcomes the
silence that comes with his lack of response.

The ocean is a familiar backdrop and for a moment, he can pretend things are simpler than they’ve
become. That it’s not his sister and her friends at his side but his uncle. The very one he’s betrayed
alongside his soulmate.

For once, Azula leaves him be. She stalks away and he wonders if he should warn the soldiers
below deck. She’ll be sure to cause chaos down there soon enough. He just hopes she takes the two
other girls with her.

Ty Lee at least follows after her, offering him a small wave as she goes. It’s Mai that stays behind,
sidling up to where his sister stood just moments ago. It’s the first time he’s actually managed to
really see her since they were kids and the changes almost stun him. Though she could probably
say the same in regards to him.

She’d been so uncertain as a child, carrying the same darkness even back then. But now, she stands
tall with her head held high. As if she’s defending, always. He almost forgot that comfortable
familiarity they shared.

She rests a hand on his shoulder, eyes just as intense as ever. “I hope you made the right choice,
Zuko.”

An unbidden sigh escapes him and he silences the desperate voice in the back of his mind that
prays to Agni that he did. “I guess we’ll see.”

Mai walks away, shaking her head. It leaves him with his mind, her question on repeat until the
words don’t even make sense anymore. And more than ever, he’s fearful that he hadn’t. That this
is all for naught and he’s once again fucked up.

By the time the isles come into view, he forcefully shoves the thoughts away. He can’t afford to
think that or else he’ll lose his sanity and nerve. He… he has to do this. He has to fill this role
because no one else will and he was born to do it.

He tries not to think how much he misses wearing green robes instead of the ones he dons now.
This rich red makes his pale skin an even starker contrast against his scar. He should feel at home
like this, should feel something more than this dread in his chest.

This is supposed to be a good thing. He reminds himself of that fact. Repeats it until the words
threaten to etch themselves into his skull so that he can never forget them, even when he’s dead
and gone. He’ll make this a good thing even if he has to. He doesn’t have a choice otherwise.

Zuko faces practically all of Caldera in his return. He sees the servants he didn't know he even
remembered and even has to deal with Lo and Li. He’s welcomed back as the crowned prince with
his sister just a step away. And throughout it all, he’s somehow managed to escape having to see
his father.

Eleven days. He’s been home for eleven days and it’s almost as if they don’t even live together. He
shouldn’t be so antsy, especially considering the fact that he’d go well over a month without seeing
Ozai as a child. But this should be different.

He hasn’t been within these walls for over three years and yet nothing, not a single thing, has
changed. The only difference is himself. And it taunts him, every waking moment, feeling as if
he’s slipped into someone else’s shoes. He has the distinct and uneasy feeling that he doesn’t
belong here, that he’s impersonating the real prince.

It’s on this eleventh day that he’s finally, finally summoned to the throne room. Perhaps it’s
childish or immature but he specifically asks for the servants to dress him in the best robes he
owns. There aren’t many to pick from since he’d come home with the clothes on his back and he’s
outgrown his old ones. But he makes due and tries to wear the gold-trimmed silks proudly. Tries to
hold his head tall as his hair is pulled into an elegant topknot, the ornament decorating it marking
him as a prince.

For once, it’s not a banished one. A traitorous one. He’s, at long last, welcomed back into the arms
of his nation. When he says he’s the Prince of the Fire Nation, no one will be able to interject and
argue that point. No one can claim that he’s unwanted.

Isn’t he, though? Look at who he’s betrayed. The two people who care for him the most in this
world. And he’s made them hate him. He’s always had someone in his corner to support him but
for the first time, he is truly and utterly alone.

So, he supports himself when he finally confronts his father for the first time in years. He kneels
before the man who deigns to even stand and greet him. Ozai sits, regal and imposing in his throne,
before a wall of fire.

Zuko desperately tries not to recall the last time he’d kneeled before his father and fire. Pushes
back the phantom pains that make themselves known even now. Especially now.

“You’ve restored your honor and made your people proud. Welcome home, my son.” Ozai
exclaims, voice louder than what he remembered.

He keeps his eyes on the floor beneath him, his hands shaky against the marble. “Thank you,
Father.”

The fire parts and when he dares to glance up, he sees Ozai striding towards him. No longer hidden
in the shadows of the fire and finally standing over him, it cements how real this is. It lets his
choice sink in and his throat tightens almost painfully. His father standing over him years ago is
seared into his mind and he prepares himself for the pain that will be sure to follow.

His father only gets close when there’s a reason. Otherwise, he stands back and watches the world
unfold at his command. The few times Ozai had chosen to get close to Zuko, pain followed. It
always followed.

“I see the weight of your travels has changed you. I worried it would be for the worse but it seems I
was mistaken.” Ozai doesn’t smile, never has, but it’s a near thing when the corner of his mouth
moves upwards. “You’ve even helped with the capture of your traitorous uncle.”

Iroh had refused to look at him after the battle and Zuko couldn’t blame him. He was now rotting
behind bars in the capital and he could barely resist the urge to run to him. It would be too soon.
He had to have patience, just like his uncle always said, and he had to give this time.

“Even more, you’ve given this Nation it’s biggest accomplishment yet,” He continues, beginning
to circle around the kneeling prince. He comes to a stop when he’s directly behind him. “Not only
have you assisted your sister in claiming Ba Sing Se, you’ve also managed to take down the
Avatar. Your sister told me everything but it would do well to hear it in your own words.”

His heart seizes, mentally cursing Azula for saying whatever she had to cause this. It’s a test,
there’s no doubt about it. But he comes up empty-handed when he tries to find the right things to
say. “I cannot claim the victory as my own, Father. Azula and her agents deserve just as much
credit, despite what she may say.”

“So you’re saying she lied to me? I was led to believe the Avatar died by your hands.” Ozai finally
reveals, leaving Zuko almost scrambling to take it all back.

“No!” He loudly argues, raising his head up. He finds that he immediately regrets it, his father
wrapping a large hand around the back of his neck. Everything in him screeches to a halt and he
forces himself to get this under control. “I’m sorry, Father. All I mean is that I would not have had
the opportunity to do as I did without them.”

There’s a tight, warm squeeze that is far too reminiscent of his childhood before the hand slips
away. “Was anyone else defeated? I heard there were others involved in the fight.”

“Just the Avatar.” He clarifies, feeling his answer lacking somehow.

Ozai heads back to his throne, each step slow and deliberate. They manage to echo throughout the
room, mimicking an old clock counting down the seconds. “So your soulmate managed to
escape?”

“Y… yes, Father.”

When he dove into the Northern waters, it had been so cold that it hurt. And for a moment, before
he remembered his own inner heat, he’d thought he might die from the shock of cold that had
seized his muscles. It had taken a second to get his body to listen to him once more, to push passed
the cold. All that said, he felt like he had in that split second after diving into the nearly frozen
waters. He knew what he had to endure but he had to do this. Instead of the brittle ice though, it’s
the scorching fire that he’s already been burned by.
His father sighs and for some reason, he expects the wall of fire to be blown out. To have the room
blackout. Like he’s actually a dragon capable of such a thing. “While it’s too late to hide this fact,
your ability to remain loyal to the Fire Nation proves to be promising. Though I expect if you see
him again, you’ll return home with wilted soulflowers. Do I make myself clear?”

“Perfectly so, Father.” He grits out. He almost loses himself but then he remembers why he’s here.
“Father, if I may-”

“You may not.” Ozai stops him there, the wall of fire finally becoming one again and shielding
him in shadows once more. “I believe we’re done here.”

A handmaid is gestured to his side and she smiles as he rises to his feet. He thinks about arguing
but knows that’ll only earn him another scar. He can’t push this, not so soon, not when he’s only
just returned home. So he bows at the waist and follows the handmaid out of the Fire Lord’s throne
room, trying to ignore the eyes that follow after him.

Zuko doesn’t even bother to knock as he storms into the room. He expects to find his sister in bed,
possibly even asleep, but instead he finds her slipping a robe on, her back exposed. The first thing
he notices is the faded burn wrapped around her bicep. It’s not bad but it’s clearly a handmark. In
fact, it’s close to mirroring his own years-old scar. The next is the flower that blooms in the corner
of her hip. Small but noticeable with the wide, open, pink petals.

Petals that are familiar and ones he recognizes very easily, even if they are a faint pink, almost
white. “Mom had the same flowers.” He says in a breath.

She’s clearly shaken, quickly tying the robe and turning with the sharpest glare. “You saw
nothing.”

He wonders if he should push it. But he knows too much about the sensitivity of soulmates and
figures it’s the least he could do. The decent thing to do. Yet, just as he had those years ago, he still
asks. “Have you met them?”

Azula bristles and he prepares to be yelled at to leave or even forced out of the room. In the end,
she doesn’t do either, just plants a hand on her hip and raises her chin high. “I’ll answer you if you
answer me. How was it?”

“What?” He frowns deeply, completely thrown. He feels like he’s in another game that he’s bound
to lose and he hates it. Zuko just wishes his family would actually be straight-forward for once.

“How was it?” She asks again, a cruel smirk curling her lips. “When you betrayed Uncle and your
precious soulmate. How was it when you bore witness to their hearts breaking? Did it hurt?”

Stepping back is the only way he prevents himself from wringing her neck. Instead of shouting
back, he takes a deep breath and remembers who he’s dealing with. She wouldn’t be so vitriolic
about this if she hadn’t met her soulmate. She’d just want him to stay quiet about this. “I’m not
heartless, Azula. I take it you’ve met them then? Did you watch their heart break too?”

When she laughs, it’s caustic and it echoes in the worst of ways. “You’re learning, Zuzu. Not quite
so pathetic anymore. Though it does get awfully close now and again.”
“Does Father know?” He questions, easily dismissing her words. He’s getting better at that, at
ignoring her attempts to wound and getting straight to the point.

“What do you think? Of course not!” She hisses, staring down her nose at him like he’s a child.
“And unless you want him to find out that it wasn’t you who defeated the Avatar or that you had a
short-lived affair with that savage, I suggest you keep certain things to yourself.”

He then remembers a crucial detail. Sokka had told him in passing about a vial of water that Katara
kept on her at all times. He hadn’t even meant to say it but it had slipped out to Iroh of all people in
the midst of a spiritual conversation. A vial of spirit water that could heal like nothing else. It does
little to quell that rising panic he felt about the situation. But it’s something he hadn’t had for a
long time. At least not as Zuko. He had hope. “Who says the Avatar is defeated for good? He could
have survived.”

She says nothing for a moment, leveling him with a look he can’t name. “Don’t do anything stupid,
Zuko. That includes saying things like that.”

Swallowing thickly, he tries to keep that in mind. It isn’t long until he leaves her chambers, those
soft pink blooms still flashing beneath his eyelids. While he doubts his sister appreciates it, he
finds the irony there as bitter as it is sweet. And he briefly wonders who it could be before pushing
it far from his mind. He doesn’t need someone else’s soulmate issues on top of his own.

“Don’t be stupid.” Azula bites out, not for the first time this evening.

He hardly pays her any mind now. His attention is instead spent on his racing heart and pacing
steps. This is the first time he’s being welcomed into a council meeting and all he really hears is
his uncle in his ear, telling him to be quiet and not to draw any attention.

“Zuko!” His sister finally snaps, shoving him hard. “You have got to get it together! What is your
issue?!”

Several come to mind but he doesn’t speak of them. Doesn’t dare to give her more ammo than the
stockpile she already has. “Why do you care?!”

“I don’t!” She denies, practically jumping away from him, as if just standing in his proximity is a
declaration that she does. “I’m just concerned that you’ll open your mouth and end up getting
banished. Again!”

His shrug is apparently not a comfort to her and she goes eerily quiet, watching him like a hawk.
Zuko, for once, listens to his sister and actually begins to attempt to get a hold of himself. “I need
to speak to Father, Azula. The things I learned while away… He has to know what our soldiers are
doing. It isn’t right and it reflects upon us all.”

“What our soldiers are doing ?” She parrots back, resting a hand on her hip.

“They’re hurting the world and not just through the war. They’re going out of their way and it’s…
It’s beyond wrong. It’s sick.” He swallows thickly, every wilted soulflower passing through his
mind before the many, many scars follow.

Azula doesn’t roll her eyes as he’d expected her to do. Instead, she sighs like there’s a weight that
only she can see and bear. “Look, say you’re right. What can Father really do though?”

“Something!” He exclaims. “Anything will be better than doing nothing!”

She scoffs, shaking her head. “And you expect to, what? To stroll up to Father and demand change
yet offer no solutions and just expect him to figure it out? Truly, Zuko, your lack of intelligence
baffles me!”

“I have to do something!” His voice cracks, any heat in it quickly being snuffed out. He’d already
wasted so much time waiting on formalities and he couldn’t stomach just waiting around anymore.
He came here for a reason and this was it. To change things.

“Why are you so obsessed with this?” She questions, leaning in closer at the scent of an opening.
She’d get under his skin if she followed it and they both knew that.

And still, she gets the better of him. Every time. “Because if I don’t fix this, then there’s no reason
for me being here!”

“Fix what?” She pokes and prods, delighting in seeing him squirm the way he does when a nerve
has been exposed. “Fix a war? You couldn’t even capture the Avatar! How could you possibly
manage to end a hundred-year war?”

Uncle always said he never thought things through and Zuko has thought that for once, maybe he
had. Maybe he’d played his cards in a way that offered the best change. But now, he began
realizing that maybe Azula was right. He couldn’t just expect things to change. Not without
genuinely thinking it through and planning on what changes could be made. And then, maybe his
father really would listen to him. Before it was too late. Before the world was burned for good.

“I have to try.” He says with conviction.

“Just,” Azula huffs. “Just don’t do anything stupid and whatever you do, don’t speak until after the
war council.”

“Fine.”

So, he does as he was told all those years ago. He keeps quiet and doesn’t dare to draw any
attention towards himself. Not again. The whole time, the warning sits on the tip of his tongue,
held back by shaky will. Patience. Uncle always said he needed patience.

Zuko takes note of the arrangements they make and the squadrons they plan to ship off to the
Earth kingdom to help conquer the villages neighboring Ba Sing Se. None are as great as the once
impenetrable city but it’s the vantage points they’re after. He can understand that. Or he could
have, had it ended there.

“The benders are being seized now and we’re only beginning to see revolters. If the soldiers keep a
firm hand on the city, they should be able to extinguish any rebellions. Casualties are to be
expected.” A man who Zuko thinks might be Mai’s father reports. Ukano, if he remembers
correctly.

What he also remembers is the horror story that Sokka had divulged what felt like a lifetime ago.
He remembers the way his voice had trembled when he told it, the way ash had become an omen
of death for not just him but so many others. And lastly, he remembers the remains he’d found in
the Air temples in those first few months of searching. The way Aang had probably joined them,
falling in a way that he’d never believed.
He tries not to think about the Avatar but sitting at the table discussing the war made that hard.
Aang, whether or not he survived, and Zuko had a sneaking suspicion that he had, was to be
considered a casualty. And he was practically a child.

These benders they were rounding up had done nothing wrong but be born with the spirit-gifted
bending everyone here also possessed. Their only crime was that it wasn’t fire. If he had been
younger, he would have spoken out. Demanded that it wasn’t fair. But he knew how that story
played out and so instead he bit his tongue until he didn’t feel the urge to scream anymore. It meant
blood began to fill his mouth but it was better than making another mistake and repeating history.

As if sensing his internal struggle, Azula catches his eyes and gives a small shake of her head. He
turns away, not needing her reminder yet again on what not to do here. He manages to catch the
eye roll though.

“Our prisons will fill up beyond capacity at this rate. What then?” Another follows up with.

A much older man, probably the oldest at the table, and one that Zuko vaguely remembers, huffs.
“We begin building in new locations and in the meantime, a few more of those casualties occur to
make space.”

He jolts in his seat, throat constricting as he forces himself to stare onward. Surely his father won’t
be alright with this. There’s no sense in this and there has to be another way. Perhaps he’ll even
reject the notion of arresting earth benders without reason and prevent any ‘casualties’ from
occurring.

Yet, Ozai says nothing, hidden behind his flames as they plan out the murder of innocents. He
stares at the shadows the fire creates and forces himself to tune out the rest. And by the time the
room clears out, leaving only the Royal family, his jaw aches at how tightly he’s been clenching
it.

“Don’t,” Azula whispers, careful of their father.

“And say nothing?!” He exclaims, barely able to keep his voice low.

“You heard what they discussed. Don’t be a child, Zuko.” She forcefully grabs him by the scruff of
his neck as if he’s no better than a baby animal and drags him out of the council room.

“That was my chance.” He tells her, not sounding nearly as disappointed as he should be.

Azula doesn’t stop pulling him along until they’re secluded in a corridor where no servants can
pass them. “Think this through!”

“I am!” That gives him the start he needs, yanking out of her grasp. “I’ve been doing nothing but
thinking it through!”

“Then you’re more dense than I thought. You said the soldiers are going out of their way to hurt
the world. Did you hear what they said in there?” She asks as one would a child. He goes to answer
her, to shout that of course he had, but she beats him to it. “Casualties. They plan for casualties just
to make people examples. If they do that, what makes you think they don’t know whatever it is
you have to say?”

“If they knew, if they really knew, it wouldn’t be happening! They call us monsters, Azula! And
they’re not wrong!” He snaps, turning away to breathe because fuck. Why was he here? What was
he doing? Did he ever have a plan or did he finally screw up and lose everything that had ever
meant anything to him? All for what? For this?
 She pauses before her voice dips into something softer, something that reminds him of their
mother. “It is war. One that’s gone on too long.”

That gains his attention. “What are you getting at?”

“Father has his own agenda separate from the Fire Nation's. I happen to have my own and I need
you here for it. So don’t be stupid.” That’s all she seems to care to share before she steps away.
“Try not to get yourself killed while here.”

He makes no promises, mind still reeling as she takes her leave. He stands there for what feels like
hours before realizing it’s time. He tried being patient, tried doing things his way, and that ended
up with things being ruined beyond repair. He needs to see Iroh.

Chapter End Notes

Fuuuck this took so much longer than expected. I wanted this out last Wednesday but
better late than never. I blame how complicated the Fire Nation is. And yes, the
chapter count went up but just by one. I wanted to cover more than just this but oh
well. I’ll have to cover everything else next chapter.
Oh yeah. I’ve slowly been going through and just tidying things up. Idk if it says
updated when I do that but if it does, that’s why.
 they never learned not to play with fire
Chapter Summary

Zuko Alone pt 2

Chapter Notes

Yes yes, its been a month. And I am terribly sorry! I posted a sneak peek of the chapter
though on my Tumblr so some of you might know what's in store.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The man before him is caged like a wild, cornered beast. Probably just as hurt as one would be in
such a situation, too. His uncle looks like another person and Zuko wonders just how long it’s
really been. If he could have prevented this if he’d just been here sooner, if he never misstepped in
the first place.

What cuts him the deepest is the lifeless look in his eyes. It reminds him of when Lu Ten died,
when his uncle had come home a broken man, and he thinks of how history repeats itself again and
again. In Iroh’s eyes, he’d lost yet another son, and he had come back home broken once more.

Zuko kneels down slowly, taking stock of how poor the condition of the cell was. He’d have to do
something about that, even if it meant coming and cleaning it himself. “Uncle,” He calls only to be
met with continued silence. “I’m sorry it took me so long but I’m here now.”

His uncle seems to be looking through him and Zuko would have questioned if he’d been heard at
all if it weren’t for him turning away slowly. It causes a few tangles strands to fall and hide his
face. All Zuko can think is that even on the run and starving, his uncle had looked better, looked
more alive.

“I’m going to get you out of here,” He promises, voice unwavering in his certainty of that. “And
then we-... then I can fix what I’ve done.”

The lack of response has Zuko clutching at the prison bars tightly. He forces himself to breathe
through the silence, to practice those taught breaths. He hadn’t come here for a response. He
wasn’t owed one anyways.

“I wanted to come here to tell you that,” He begins, not quite as certain as he started off as. His
throat seizes on him, leaving him gasping around the words he has to say. “And to say what I did
was foolish. I should have—should have listened to you, Uncle.”

Somewhere amidst the silence and him choking out words, something breaks. Iroh still refuses to
say anything, to even look at him, and he looks less human and more like a statue. As if he isn’t
even alive at all or even there anymore.

If that were true, it would be because of Zuko. He knows this. And maybe that’s why he snaps and
bangs his fist on the bars like the desperate child he so often feels like. “LOOK AT ME! Please…”
He trails off, swallowing back sobs. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Uncle.”

He stays there, kneeling for a few moments longer. All he hears as a response is his own ragged
breathing. The only difference is that Iroh’s eyes are closed. Zuko leaves before he can convince
himself that Iroh really is just a statue.

If he were to be honest, storming into yet another room looking for his sister doesn’t exactly give
him the upper hand. He imagines she’d be sneakier about it, can easily picture her waltzing into a
room with a hidden smile and heavy eyes. Zuko has never been as graceful as Azula and the way
he barges through the door like a bull-elephant makes that strikingly obvious.

She barely bats an eye, not even bothering to turn his way. Instead, she watches him through her
vanity mirror and shoos away the maids. “Brother, what a surprise to see you so early. You
wouldn’t mind skipping the pleasantries and getting to why you’re here, would you?”

“I want to talk about Unc-” He barely gets the words out before she stands, the rough scrape of her
chair ripping through the air and cutting him off.

She rushes the last maid out and locks the door behind them, fire burning in her eyes. “Truly,
Zuko, your lack of subtlety is frightening. How we’re related is beyond me.

“I imagine it has to do with our parents,” He dryly responds, gritting his teeth together as he goes
through the process of his sister manhandling him. She sits him far away from the door and away
from any windows.

“Yes, well, I imagine your savage rubbed off on you some with a comment like that.” She bites out
and he wonders if the red paint across her lips is simply venom to coat her words. Considering she
was just as scathing as a child, before she began painting her face and looking more and more like
their mother, he doubts it.

Zuko’s come to expect such low blows from her but it doesn’t stop the stinging any less. It curls
around his heart and tugs, jostling his entire being in a way that leaves him feeling wrong and raw.
It’s not entirely her fault though. He’s felt that way the entire time he’s been home. Or at least
something similar to it. “I saw Uncle Iroh.”

“I know.” She huffs.

“What? How?” He’s not surprised, not entirely, but it seems he’d underestimated her abilities to
gain intel on, well, everyone and anyone.

“The guard. You see, while you were off at sea trying to learn to function, I was swaying loyalties
to me and me alone.” She says with a proud smile, as if what she’s said isn’t borderline
treasonous.

He chooses not to address it and instead continues. “Uncle isn’t right. And where he’s being held is
helping any. Plus, his face looks thinner. It’s… he’s not okay.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Azula slowly asks, as if talking to a child struggling to grasp a concept.
He bristles, for all the good it does him, and tries to remember why he’s doing this. For Iroh. He
can’t afford to be selfish or thoughtless. Not anymore. “Mine, I know that,” He takes a breath,
concentrating so he doesn’t explode. “I need for him to be okay. Or as okay as he can be.”

She rolls her eyes but seems to be considering it. “It would do to have him in good shape,” She
murmurs, clearly not intending or perhaps caring that Zuko can hear her. “Alright. So, what is it
you propose I do? Have him moved to a better cell and given better food?”

“Yes, exactly those things. Maybe even some kinder guards.” He suggests, remembering the
splattered water near the bars of the cell. He doubts his uncle would have thrown perfectly good
water, especially in the state he seemed to be in.

“It’s going to take work. He’s not some random prisoner. You don’t realize how many eyes are
watching him right now.” She explains, mulling it over aloud. “What will you do for me?”

He wavers before he says it, knows the power it’ll give her but does it anyway. “Anything.”

“Fine. I’ll figure it out but you owe me, Zuzu.” She bares her teeth when she holds out her hand.

He takes it, feeling like he’s just made a deal with a dark spirit, but figured even if he has, it’ll be
worth it. “Just be careful.”

“Oh, I always am.”

To his surprise, all she asks, in turn, is for him to accompany her and her friends on vacation.
Besides the many reminders of how out of touch they are with teens their age, the beach isn’t the
worst thing in the world. Azula sneaks away often, typically at night, but Zuko still has enough
sense not to mention it.

Just as he doesn’t mention the scar in the corner of Ty Lee’s hip or how her swimsuit top has
sleeves that reach down to her elbows. She still has fun with the teens, smiling up at them as she
twirls her hair around her finger. They fail to realize she’s giving them a glimpse of their own
future.

It has Zuko reevaluating what he thought of the girl. He realizes that maybe, in his own way, he’d
underestimated her because of her softness. Not her strength or abilities, because he’d witnessed
them first hand more than once, but just how smart she could be. Especially when it came to
people.

His surprise must be clear on his face and Mai seems to follow his train of thought as she ends up
snickering to herself. “Took you long enough,” She teases before going back to her novel.

And, well, he never claimed to be quick-witted. So he smiles back at her and finds their vacation is
surprisingly more relaxing than he’d previously thought it would be. When Azula sneaks back in
during breakfast the next day, he offers her a relieved smile, and to his surprise, she returns it.
When they return to the palace, there’s a scroll waiting for him on his bedside table. One that
mentions him needing to learn of his great-grandfather’s demise, something which he already
knows. Something that every child in the Fire Nation knows. He’d have thrown it away but Azula
spots it before he can.

“There’s a hidden message,” She tuts, heating the back of the parchment.

Just before he can question how she knows that or even catch a glimpse of what it might say, she
shoves it into his hands. “You don’t want to know what it says?”

“You forget,” She grins, slipping out of the room. “I already know everything.” She manages to
throw over her shoulder before shutting the door behind her.

Zuko rolls his eyes, reading the instructions that have recently appeared. He goes about traversing
the capital carefully until he can find what someone clearly wants him to. He just hopes this might
help in some way, that he can gain more information than the scraps he picks up during war
councils. Nobles and councilmen have a way of saying nothing with so many words.

When he finds Sozin’s last entry, he reads over the reflections of a man on his death bed. The
world knows how Sozin died peacefully, decades after his wife, and how his legacy was continued
with his only son, Azulon. But Zuko uncovers what must have been purposefully hidden.

He learns of two boys, growing side by side, both destined for greatness. Both destined for the
other. Sozin had thought they would be unbeatable and would lead the world into the light held by
the Fire Nation. And when Roku refuses, when he turns away with a warning, something had
broken in the man. He’d did as planned anyways, gaining the colonies but losing his soulmate
who’d stood at his side for so long. And solidifies that loss over twenty years later, choosing his
nation’s greatness over Avatar Roku’s life.

Sozin ends his entry with the emphasis on how meaningless soulmates are and what a weakness
they present. It leaves Zuko reeling, wondering if his father ever read this, or if his great-
grandfather had simply passed on the mentality until it reached Ozai. But his demise, in the end, is
the same. Sozin still passes in his bed, decades after his wife, but just a few years after his
soulmate. He’s managed to make those last few years matter, though.

He’d confronted Azula first, convinced that she’d played a hand in him uncovering the truth. It
certainly seems like the type of underhanded thing she would do. Instead, she denies it, and he’s
fairly certain that she isn’t lying.

So, Zuko ends up before Iroh. The cell isn’t as terrible as his old one and there’s even a pitcher of
water that appears to be clean. “Did you send me this?”

Truthfully, he isn’t expecting an answer, but Iroh defies expectations more often than naught. “It
was time you learned the truth.” His voice is rougher than he remembered and it squeezes at
Zuko’s heart.

“Sozin died in his sleep. I already knew that.” It turned out to be the only thing he did know
regarding the long revered Fire Lord.

“You have more than one great-grandfather, Prince Zuko.” Iroh points out, finally, for the first
time in months, raising his head to look at his nephew. “Sozin, on your father’s side. And Avatar
Roku, on your mother’s.”

Zuko takes the crown and he runs. He doesn’t care if he’s seen, doesn’t care if he ends up
banished, he runs. Until finally, he collapses at the only place he feels safe, his reflection a taunt in
the small pond.

He holds the truth in his hands and tries not to mourn for everything he once knew. He’d begun to
see the lies but this means he can no longer deny it. He can no longer play ignorant. It brings all
those wilted soulflowers to the front of his mind and he wonders what they were ever meant to pay
for. What cost they were justifying beyond senseless cruelty.

But with the truth in his hands, as shaky as they are, it tells him that’s not all he is. He’s not simply
atrocities upon atrocities and that shatters something within him. He’d always thought he was a
monster because that’s what his family has bred for generations. Murderers, dictators, bigots,
manipulators, monsters.

Ursa had given him a chance though. One he doubts even she knew of. A chance to be good and
more than his paternal ancestors. More than a spoiled, outspoken prince. He had Avatar Roku’s
blood flowing through him and that had to mean something. Even if it only meant something
poetic.

He’d had a chance, one he’d wasted. And it was too late. He’d tainted that blood inside of him,
ruined the goodness that he could’ve had. And he feels it now, tearing at his veins in a desperate
attempt to escape the monster that cages it. He’s become his father, hasn’t he?

‘Do you even remember me?’ A symphony of voices asks from the back of his mind.

He sees himself, young and not yet scarred by life. So young. He’d wanted to be good like Mother.
Wanted to bundle up everything he got from her and present it as a prize to his people. He’d hoped
for so much as a child and he sits now, utterly alone.

When he sees his mother, she’s blurry with the passage of time. But hardly anything has changed.
She holds goodness in her bones and heartbreak in her eyes. And she hides it all with kind smiles
and fantastical plays of love. She’d given him everything to find the right path and he’d failed her.
Failed in every way when it comes to what she wanted or expected of him.

Sokka’s face bursts to life beneath his eyelids and this is his own form of torture. It must be. He
remembers seeing that coldness melt away in his eyes, those icy glaciers fading into beaches that
reminded him of home. More than that, he remembers feeling part of something, for the first time
in his life. Belonging somewhere when all he knew was how to drift along the sides.

He’d thrown that away for nothing. Had sold away his chance the second he sold away his soul.
All for a man that couldn’t care less whether he lived or died. For a country so rotten from the
inside it’d be a miracle if it ever righted itself. He’d lost everything in exchange for nothing.

It bubbles beneath his skin, angry and festering, and it reminds him of the boy he’d once been.
Only more broken, more hurt, than he thought he could be. There’s no one to blame this time. No
one he can pin this on. He thought being banished as a child, because that’s what he was, had been
hard. But he’d essentially banished himself from the last place he was safe and that…
That does something to him.

He feels like he’s on top of that hill again. And he feels it all, the antithesis of his very existence,
the heaviness inside his ribcage as his heart beats against him in rebellion, and when he screams, it
claws its way out of him. It ribs out of his throat, knocking against his teeth, and falling passed his
lips like the poison he is.

It doesn’t sound human to his ears and it causes his chest to seize. Causes his entire being to be
caught up in his moment of weakness as he riots against the spirits. He’d always thought they hated
him but he realizes that no, they don’t. Everything that has hurt him, scarred him, broken him, it’s
been by his own hand. His own machinations.

‘Yes.’ He screams back into the void. Because he remembers them all. Be it the people he’s helped
and the people he’s hurt. Be it the versions of himself that he’s left behind.

By the time the screaming stops, his throat is as raw as he, and a violent shiver travels down his
spine. There’s a soft thud as he let’s go of the hairpiece and holds himself instead, hands clawing at
robes that suffocate him now.

He can’t breathe. Can hardly think straight as a sob rattles him so. The tears come as fast as his
breath and this is a familiar feeling. Except, last time he’d held himself so tightly, as if he were
fragile and would fall apart so simply, Uncle had been there. Uncle had eased his nails away from
his own flesh and they’d ended up wrapped around him.

Iroh’s not here now. He never would be. Because that was the ruination that Zuko brought with
him. And he couldn’t blame that on his ancestors or blood any longer. It was his fault. All of it.

He breaks and he breaks and he breaks. Leaves nothing but tatters of what used to be and broken
glass that’ll linger for years to come, a reminder of this moment. And he almost gives up. Almost
leaves himself like that, as ruined as everything else around him.

But then he remembers the sacrifices made. The people lost, to the spirits or at the cruelty of his
own hands. He doesn’t have the ability to continue for himself but he owes them something. He
owes them everything.

Zuko repays his debts by piecing himself together again. There are pieces missing, pieces that he’ll
never get back, and the edges are chipped. They’ll never go back to what they used to be. He’ll
never be what he used to be.

When he finally faces the world, the reality he has come to fully understand, he does so with hands
that still shake. When he stands once more, he realizes not only does he have his mother’s heart, he
has her eyes. But he has his father’s touch and that overshadows it all.

He hears about it through the grapevine first. A day will come when they lose their inner fire, they
say. The day of the black sun. He doesn’t believe it until Azula brings it up.

“Things will be set in motion. What side will you take?’ She questions, Mai and Ty Lee at her side.
When he meets her eyes, he says nothing, lets the weighted silence answer for him. She sighs,
disappointed but not surprised. “Will you not be persuaded otherwise?”
 “Not likely.” He shrugs, casting wary looks towards her friends. She’s never been so open like this
in front of them. Truthfully, their loyalties likely go to the princess rather than the nation. Azula
wouldn’t be so candid otherwise. “I know you need me here but…”

“It’ll be an inconvenience, certainly,” She huffs. “But I’ll manage. I expect you to return, brother.”

Zuko would like to say that he will but he wonders if he’ll even manage to escape at all. “If I don’t,
as you said, you’ll manage.”

A look is shared between the girls before Azula steps forward, as dangerous and ferocious as a
dragon. “I will say this once and only once. You will return home because only one of us is meant
for the throne.”

Its enough of admittance to startle him, especially with how straightforward it is. He’d like to think
it’s his own influence but he won’t give himself so much credit. “I’d have thought you’d want me
out of the way. Claim it for yourself.”

“To rule, one must make many compromises and appease the people. Does that truly sound like
me, Zuzu?” She scoffs, head held high like being the Firelady would be below her. “Besides, I
have much more fun in the shadows.”

Which, yeah, when said like that, he can see it. “Can’t you pronounce Zuko already?”

“Of course, but it doesn’t get under your skin quite so much, now does it?” Azula smiles with her
teeth bared, as if ready to strike at any given moment. For once, he feels at ease at such a display
from her.

And so, they begin to plot, Azula offering anything she thinks is worth knowing. It leads to him
learning just how oblivious he is and how many eyes she has around the world. He finds out about
Ozai’s plan to be dubbed the Phoenix King sooner than anyone would like. It’s the first time he
thinks something through and it feels like this time, it won’t backfire.

The day of the black sun is what they wait for, together. While everyone else will go into hiding,
they’ll use their time wisely. And as the days get closer, Zuko wonders what led to Azula
becoming what she has. If she was always heading to be the person she is or if it was something
else. Then he realizes she could say the same about him and he lets it go. He’s just fortunate that
she gives a shit about him.

Chapter End Notes

Lots of reveals. Lemme know what you think about them! This chapter was meant to
be longer but I figured y'all deserved something for waiting so long! Hopefully, the
next chapter won't take so long but we'll see.

Update: I wrote a Suki/Toph oneshot of when the met if y’all are interested. It’s part of
the series so it should be easy to find!!
 get your kicks on a live wire
Chapter Summary

The day of the Black Sun comes and Zuko faces the people he needs to.

Chapter Notes

Sokka do be bitter in this one but that’s okay because I would be too. Also, I’d like to
think this chapter is leagues better than the last. Don’t be surprised if I rewrite that shit
one day lmao

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“Take care to pack your things ahead of time. And when it comes time for you to leave, do not
hesitate. Time is of the essence and if you are caught, even my influence will not be enough to save
you.”

Azula’s plan and precautions play on repeat in his mind as he packs, just as they have for the days
leading up to the Black Sun. Zuko would write it down over and over again if he could, just to go
over it, to make sure he doesn’t misstep. For now, he folds clothes he thinks might be sturdy into a
runaway sack. He includes Avatar Roku’s hairpiece, the crown both of his grandfathers once wore,
and the engraved pearl dagger.

He would’ve packed before but Azula had stopped him, told him of the risk he’d be in if a servant
were to find it. But now is fine. It’s not as if he’ll sleep any, not with the day he has ahead of him.
Just some light treason.

Truthfully, he’s fretting about Iroh as well. He trusts Azula to handle it but a million what-if
scenarios rush through his mind. The fact he trusts his sister at all is still akin to whiplash but he’s
resigned himself to being surprised by anything. That happens after you learn everything you
thought you knew was just an elaborate lie.

A knock on the door is what brings him out of it and he nearly panics then and there, rushing to
cover his things with his blankets. When he does open the door, it’s not a maid ready to yell his
crimes nor his father to call him out on what they’re planning. It’s just Azula.

“Expecting someone else?” She taunts, easily brushing passed him. She creeps into his room like a
spider might crawl into its web and he wonders who she’s tangled up tonight.

He still rolls his eyes, though. Even in the presence of someone who can and would ruin his entire
existence if she felt like it. “Just the cavalry.”

“Relax,” She drawls, unveiling his half-packed belongings. “You know this has to be done by
morning, yes?”

“I’m working on it!” Zuko snaps, striding back to his bed and snatching his things away from her
greedy hands. “If you’re here to check on me, I’m fine! I don’t need a babysitter.”

She levels him with a look that has him flushing in indignation. He doesn’t need a damn babysitter.
He’s just fine on his own. So, he goes to show her he doesn’t need supervision and continues his
packing with renewed vigor as she watches on.

“So,” She trails off, picking at her nails that double as claws. “You’re ready?”

He shrugs, tying closed his bag. “I’m packed, aren’t I?”

“I meant, are you ready to face them? After Ba Sing Se?” She asks clearer this time, an elegant
brow raised as she looks him up and down, as if something will give away his answer.

Truthfully, it wasn’t something he purposely thought about. That was more of a handle-it-when-it-
happened sort of situation. If he put too much thought into it, he knew he’d only psych himself up.
“Not at all.”

She snorts and it’s almost crass in its sound, so unlike everything he’s come to associate with his
sister these days. “Oh, Zuzu. You’d be endearing if you didn’t frustrate me as often as you do.”

“You’d be nice if you weren’t so underhanded about it,” He shoots right back, surprising even
himself with such a comment. He chalks it up to prolonged exposure to Azula.

“Yes, well, nothing in life is for free. That includes my pleasantries.” She snarks, full of bitter
sweetness and predatory smiles.

He debates commenting with the same veiled tone but then he hesitates. It occurs to him, once
more, this is his last night here. And he looks at his sister, unguarded in a rare show of trust he
realizes. When he’d first come home, he allowed himself to truly look at and recognize Azula.
He’d seen her in all of her barely contained vitriol and saw an image of Ursa. But it had been so
distorted and twisted in an attempt to mirror Ozai’s instead.

It was all an act. He knows that now. Knows how controlled her every action is. But it doesn’t stop
the terrifying thought that she could have ended up like that. A voice in the back of his head, the
one often speaking with his fears, tells him she still could be that girl. She could unravel further
and further until she spiraled out of control. Until she lost herself entirely in an attempt to be the
perfect daughter.

Now, he looks at her, and he thinks of the burn around her arm. Hidden away under the finest of
silks. He wonders what his father’s perfect child could have done to warrant such a thing but then
figures it doesn’t quite matter. The punishment never fits the crime when it comes to Ozai.

“Come with me.” He finds himself saying though he doesn’t take it back. Not with the familiar
worry worming it’s way against his heart. He gets to leave this place but she’ll be stuck here. No
one but herself to protect her.

She smiles the smile their mother often had. One that always spoke of truths that were better to not
be spoken. Truths he couldn’t possibly fathom just yet. “I don’t think I will, dear brother of mine.”

“It’ll be safer.” He tries to point out but finds that he has to rethink such a sentiment. Nothing is
safe from the Fire Nation, not even itself. At the very least, she’ll be able to breathe without being
under their father’s thumb.

Azula sighs, looking to the covered arm as if she knows the reason that drives his argument. “I
know what I’m doing, so trust that. Father might have burned me once but he will never get that
chance again. I won’t let him.”

He’s envious of her conviction, wishes he could say such a thing with so much certainty, but he
can’t. Instead, he grows even more curious, as morbid as it is. “What… happened?”

There’s a shutter in her eyes and he thinks if he could look hard enough, he might see the memory
play out in her eyes. “You did.”

“What?” He startles back, something like guilt beginning to sink into the skin around his throat,
pulling until he’s forced to take gasped breaths.

She looks back at him and she’s ferocious in her stance even as that fracture makes itself known. If
he didn’t know better, he’d think it was his family's curse to break things, even themselves. “I had
front row seats when Father made you an example, Zuko. And you were gone before I even had a
chance to say goodbye or something as equally sentimental. You and Uncle both. I… I didn’t
handle it as well as I could have. And Father would not have someone, especially a little girl,
criticize him for his actions.”

“To question the Fire Lord is to question Agni himself,” He says, the words an echo of his
childhood, of what everyone in the nation was born knowing. It was treason otherwise and that
came with consequences. Consequences him and his sister apparently both bore.

She nods, taking a shuttered breath before squaring her shoulders and meeting him head-on.
“Which is why it should be you upon the throne. Father has forgotten his humanity and mistaken it
for divinity. And you, brother, are painfully human.”

“And you’re not?” He asks in return, fighting off the overwhelming weight that makes itself home
on his chest whenever his future is brought up.

Azula smirks and it reminds him how dangerous she can be. “I will speak for no one but myself.
Especially not for a God who sees children burned in his name.”

He’s never been so glad for the lack of people around. She’d already be killed for not only
speaking against Ozai but plotting as well. To speak against Agni? She’d be written out of the
family and the Fire Sages themselves would make sure history forgets her name. Her entire
existence.

Still, he looks at the woman she’s grown to be, and he hopes against hope this isn’t the last time he
ever sees her. Be it because he’s struck down or she is. “I’m going to miss you, as crazy as you
are.”

“Of course you will,” She tuts, flipped her hair over her shoulder. But then she softens at his look
and gives a show of rolling her eyes. “I suppose I will too. You’ve been amusing to watch.”

He laughs and it’s throaty and warm and he feels something close to light for the first time in a
while. “Believe me when I say I share the sentiment.”

It manages to get a breathy chuckle from her and she even offers a small smile. “I suppose this is a
good note to leave on for tonight. Stick to the plan, Zuzu, and everything will work out.”

“I will.” He promises as she leaves, not bothering to wait for a dismissal despite what customs
might call for. And it strikes him that yes, he really will miss her.
Ozai is escorted underground, passed the decoy bunker, and into the real one. Azula, as planned,
waits in the decoy for the invasion to inevitably reach her. And Zuko does his best to stick to the
script and sneak away without notice. He struggles though and this is why Azula had drilled the
plan into his head, wary of his impulsive nature.

He forces himself to trust her when it comes to Iroh, no matter how desperately he wants to double-
check. And he almost forces himself to follow through with the plan. Almost.

The deciding factor, of all things, is a family portrait that lurks like a ghost in the corridor. He
would have left had he not seen it, not obsessed over it and what they could have been, and that
cursed impulsive nature takes over in true Zuko fashion as he traverses the tunnels beneath the
palace.

One would have expected anger to be rushing through his veins but it isn’t. He’s clearer than he
ever thought he’d be in such a situation. And while he knows this is potentially a very bad idea, he
has to do this. He probably won’t ever see his father after today. He needs closure and whether or
not Ozai wants him to have it doesn’t matter. He’ll embrace his family’s greed and take what he
wants just this once.

When he storms into the room, he no longer sees a towering man that commands fear and respect
like they’re weapons. Instead, he thinks of what Azula had mentioned just the previous night. Of
how he is nothing more than a man playing Agni when he has no right to.

“What is this, Prince Zuko?” Ozai questions, narrowed eyes full of brittle fires.

Zuko doesn’t cower though. He’s fought his way here, in every way imaginable, and he’ll be
damned if he lets his father, his Fire Lord, try to take that away from him. “I’ve come to tell you
that I’m leaving. I’m going to help the Avatar in any way I can and put an end to this war.”

He’s quiet, eerily so, for a moment too long before responding. And when he does, there’s a lilt to
his voice. “Is that so? I wish I could say I’m surprised by this treachery but you’ve always taken
after my fool of a brother. You telling me this during the eclipse only further proves that.”

“I am proud to follow after Uncle Iroh. And I only hope I can be half the man he is.” Zuko states,
head raised high as he faces the man that haunts the nightmares of the world. “He’s a better father
than you ever were. And he knows how to love without breaking people.”

“Love is a luxury that costs more than it's worth,” He spits out, snarling. He looks every bit a
ferocious, dangerous dragon. Like the ones painted from the past, before his family killed every
last one.

“You’re wrong.” He doesn’t yell it, doesn’t argue, simply corrects the man that claims to know
better than all. “Having no soulmarks doesn’t make someone incapable of love. It’s fear of love
that does and you’re woven so tightly with fears, I can’t help but pity you.”

“I’d stop there if I were you, boy .” He warns deeply, voice cutting through the air like thunder.

“But you’re not me. I’m nothing like you. I would never break someone just to see if I could. I
wouldn’t pit my children against each other so they would feel as alone as you do,” Zuko
continues, voice raspy with emotion. “And I would never burn a child begging for mercy and love.
So you can continue burning the world until it mirrors the husk of a man you are. But know that
your rule will come to an end.”
“Then make sure of it yourself! There are no guards and I am unarmed! You have the chance to
end this now. Or will you continue to be the disappointment you were born as?” Ozai lashes out
and Zuko has no doubt that if he could firebend, there would be flames spitting from his lips.

He doesn’t rise to the bait. Doesn’t even fall back from it as he might have even just weeks ago.
“My destiny no longer answers to you. What happens to you is up to the Avatar. I hope, for your
sake, he is more merciful than you.”

Zuko knows he is. Even from the brief moments spent in his company, he knows Aang is like his
Uncle. Too kind for his own good. Too good in general. And he doesn’t envy the younger boy for
the task ahead of him. He certainly doesn’t envy him on this day, knowing how the invasion will
play out already. They’ll be stopped but hopefully, they can retreat in time.

If there was not a schedule to at least try to keep to, if his sister was not the one to stay behind
today, Zuko would seek justice for the pain Azula was put through at their father’s hands. He’d
share how proud he is to see her dismantle Ozai’s loyalties and replace them with her own, all
under his nose. But he can’t and because of that, he prepares to leave.

“This is goodbye.” He says, turning on his heels.

“So soon?” Ozai questions with mock sincerity. “We haven’t even gotten to your mother yet.”

Everything freezes inside of him. He staggers in his step and his brain tries to catch up. He’s not
dumb. He knows it’s a ploy. But maybe there’s something he could gain from it. Something like
the knowledge of what happened to his mother. He wants to stay. He wants to uncover the truth of
what happened all those years ago more desperately than anything he’s ever known.

But then he thinks of the ticking clock. He could be trapped here if he stays too long. He could
miss his chance and then everything his sister had worked for would be wasted. Besides, he’d been
selfish enough for one day. He can’t do this. Maybe one day he can revisit the clawing curiosity of
his mother but that day cannot be today.

His eyes burn in tandem with the nails digging into his palms. And he moves jerkily as he opens
the doors, everything in him resisting the movement. But he pushes through it.

He feels it just as the door opens. It feels like the sound of a wick being lit and something loosens
in his chest. And he knows if he’d stayed a minute longer, he’d be dead. Because the air tingles just
as he realizes what's happening and his father spits out how foolish Zuko is.

He takes the brunt of the attack as best he can, lightning scraping out his insides to make room for
itself as it pours into him. And he summons all that he can of Iroh and his teachings as he spins
around and forces it back out. He knows he could strike his father down, go for the kill just as he
had, but he doesn’t. Because he hadn’t been lying earlier when he said what happened to Ozai was
up to the Avatar.

Instead, he aims below his feet, and the man soars into the wall at his back. Zuko doesn’t wait to
see his response, escaping in the billows of smoke that begin to suffocate the room. His body aches
and he feels hollower than he did but that’s okay. He’d take that over never having gotten closure
any day.

He forces his body to run through the tunnels, needing to get out before it’s too late, and he
imagines how pissed Azula would be at him if she knew what he’d done. It brings a smile to his
face and he wonders what he must look like right now. A runaway prince with smoking hands and
a wild smile. He probably looks crazy.
Though it turns out, he doesn’t need to imagine how Azula would react. Because he runs into her
not too long after, cornered by the group he’d intended to hunt down after the invasion. Keyword
being after.

Her hands are up in the air, head held high despite being faced with the Avatar, the greatest
earthbender to ever live, and her brother’s own soulmate. They look equal parts confused and
furious and he can’t help but sympathize with them there.

The smaller girl is the first one to turn his way and he finds himself dragged forward by the earth
that moves beneath his feet. He would have fallen over had he not remembered to lower himself.
Though he doubts he should care about such things in the situation he’s found himself in.

Azula looks at him with wild, disbelieving eyes and he braces himself as she opens her mouth.
“What are you still doing here?! You said you remembered the plan! You’re supposed to be gone
by now, dammit!”

“I know,” He mumbles, taking in the sight of the individuals that he’d been fighting last time he
saw them. “I was sidetracked.”

Aang looks taller, if only by a few inches. And there’s some baby fat missing from his cheeks,
hinting to the cheekbones he must be growing into. There’s a lack of childishness in his
movements that has Zuko mourning for him and the price this war has cost him.

The younger girl, who must be Toph, looks his way but not directly at him. Right. She can see with
her feet because she’s blind. Or something along those lines. Up close, he can see she’s even
younger than Aang, and that doesn’t sit so comfortably on his conscience. Though, something
about her stance reminds him of a younger Azula.

And finally, his eyes flicker to the boy he lost at his own hands. His hair has grown out and the
curls are as gentle as his eyes once were. Now, they’re hardened in the face of him. As if he’s a
threat. Even before Ba Sing Se, he hadn’t looked at him like that. And despite these things, despite
the overly apparent distrust, Zuko finds his heart breaking at the beauty of him alone.

He’d almost forgotten how pale those flowers were against Sokka’s warmer skin. What’s worse,
he’d almost forgotten how much he’d marred Sokka with his own faults. He’s made him into a
tapestry of contradictory tones.

“What did you do?” Azula seethes, pulling him away from his thoughts.

He doesn’t want to answer her because he knows what he did was stupid. But he wouldn’t change
his actions even if given the option. Despite how stupid he might have been, he’s still proud of
himself. “Said goodbye.” He answers plainly.

If he weren’t looking at her, if he didn’t know her, he would’ve missed the minuscule fear that
flashes in her eyes. “You could have been killed.”

“I wasn’t.” He assures her, not daring to mention how his body still tingles and how close he’d
come to doing just that.

“Alright, enough! We need to go, now. We’re too late!” Aang shouts out, slamming the bottom of
his staff against the ground.

“Not yet,” Sokka disagrees, eyes dark as he raises the sharp end of his boomerang at Azula. “She
still hasn’t told us where Suki is.”
Just like that, Azula’s mask slips into place. He watches as she goes back to the cold, calculated
person he thought she solely was. And while she may be those things, there are so many other
sides of her, even he gets dizzy trying to keep track sometimes. “Perhaps you should listen to the
child and leave while you can.”

“What about you, ponytail?” Toph asks, pointing his way.

He frowns, thinking about commenting on his lack of ponytails, how it was never a ponytail to
begin with, but thinks otherwise. “Who’s Suki?”

“You burned her village down,” Sokka answers, finally addressing him. And by the spirits, he’d
thought his eyes were hardened, but his voice is even more so.

“Oh,” He swallows thickly but still tries to see if he remembers anyone. “The… the warriors?”

“The Kyoshi Warriors,” Aang says, filling in the gaps.

There’s some recognition now. He remembers, faintly, of Sokka telling him about her. Not only is
she a leader of them, but she’s also Toph’s soulmate if he’s to trust his memory. She’d be
dangerous. He turns to his sister, who’s allowed herself to be restrained by earth, and she gives a
faint nod that tells him his suspicions are correct. “She’d be at the Boiling Rock, most likely.”

“Is that true?” Toph asks Azula.

The older girl just shrugs with a smirk. “Who knows?”

“We at least have something to work with now. We have to go!” Aang interjects as the sound of a
stampede begins to travel throughout the tunnels.

Toph sighs but nods her head. “He’s right.”

“What do we do with them then?” Sokka questions and by his tone, Zuko wouldn’t say it was far
fetched if the other boy would have them sink to the bottom of the ocean just to get rid of them.

“Leave them?” Aang supposes.

“Good idea, if you want those flowers on your face to wilt.” Azula scoffs, breaking free of her
restraints. The others rush to get into fighting stances but she holds her hands up in surrender, as if
she’s harmless that way.

“And what do you mean by that?” Sokka asks cautiously.

“What I mean is that my brother probably did something utterly reckless and if he’s caught, he will
be killed.” She explains and his cheeks flush as he’s talked about like a child would be.

“Let me guess, you want us to take him? So he can spy on us and come running back to tell you our
secrets?” Toph laughs bitterly, shaking her head in disbelief. “No thanks, crazy. Keep your brother
alive yourself.”

“Zuko? Why don’t you tell them what you did? Oh, and don’t worry, he’s a terrible liar.” She
offers them a saccharine smile and it looks so displaced he has to look away.

“I am not,” He bites out, to which the blind girl snorts at.

“He is.” She grins.

 “All I did was tell Ozai that I’m leaving to… to join your efforts in the war.” He tries to word it to
be better than it is. So he doesn’t sound like he’s clawing his way to them, that he doesn’t seem
like a child with big hopes and bigger dreams, all of which are unrealistic.

They all turn to Toph and she gives a thumbs up, giving him the all-clear. And then they all face
him with wide eyes, even Azula. It’s Sokka who breaks the silence first. “You’ve got one hell of a
death wish.”

“It seems he does,” Azula grounds out.

“So we take him with us?” Aang asks his group hesitantly. “Because we have to make up our
minds fast and despite everything, I don’t want him dead. Not when we could’ve prevented it.”

“I’m with twinkle toes. We can always leave him on the side of the road too.” Toph smiles sweetly
at him and he’d be worried if what she’d said wouldn’t be a kinder fate than the one that would
surely greet him if he stayed.

“Fuck, fine. But if you make one wrong move, it won’t be the Fire Lord you have to worry about.”
Sokka snarls and he can picture it quite easily, especially when he’s got such a look in his eyes.

Zuko swallows back his relief and lowers his head to imitate a bow the best he can while
restrained. “Thank you.”

“You should probably go now.” Azula reminds them with a low drawl.

“Right.” They share a glance and before Zuko can question what the plan is, he’s being carted
away by the back of his shirt, Toph’s small fist holding the fabric. “Let’s go, hot stuff.”

Chapter End Notes

I got this finished a lot sooner than I thought I would so yay! Not a lot happened but a
lot happened, you know? Anyways, the scene with Ozai is not nearly as stunning as it
is in the show. Nothing can ever top that. But I did try my hand at it and hopefully it
didn't disappoint. I'm going to miss writing Azula ngl. She's kinda been my favorite to
write recently. Oh well, I can just write a oneshot of her and Ty Lee. Speaking of, I
wrote a oneshot of Toph and Suki meeting if anyone is interested. It's just the next part
of the series. Check it out if you haven't!
 looking at you has me yearning for then
Chapter Summary

Sokka adjusts to the Zuko parasite that has latched onto the GAang.

Chapter Notes

Sorry for the month break but I’ve returned with the bois!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Appa serves as their way of getaway and that’s the issue for Sokka. It’s just them and his stomach
does painful flips as they make their grand escape. He watches the ragtag army they’d pieced
together go down fighting all from the safe confines of Appa’s saddle and it makes something
angry fester in his chest.

He tries not to think of his tribesmen down there. Of the friends they’d brought into this. He has to
close his eyes at the thoughts of what the Fire Lord will do to them, too sick to stomach it. His
failure sits heavy around his neck even as he tries to block it out. To focus on them getting to
safety.

In a desperate attempt not to let himself be consumed by this clawing feeling, he tries to find a
silver lining instead. It’s a surprisingly optimistic way of thinking for him but he’s more than
willing to blame it on prolonged exposure to Aang. And, well, there is some good. It’s barely even
worth mentioning but it’s something.

For one, they escaped mostly whole and healthy. Minus the few new bruises. They even managed
to help a few people on the way out, getting them a safe distance away to escape. It meant more
than just them were safe. It meant they managed to help at least a few of the people they’d dragged
into this mess.

The sullen prince who looked to be attempting to shrink within himself could be counted as one
such person. Even with his clear discomfort and deep frown. As if he was disappointed in how
things turned out. As if he had any right to be. It wasn’t his people being senselessly sacrificed
right now. No, it was his people that were in the wrong in the first place

And, oh, that angry beast is back again to rear its ugly head. Just something else he can blame
Zuko for. He’s going to run out of mental space if the list keeps growing like this. Let’s see, Zuko
and his sister got in the way of getting to Ozai. Which means he cost them today. And that leads to
him costing them the entire war. So, yep, Zuko doomed them all. Spirits, he’s the worst.

Speaking of, the entitled boy finally raises his head, daring to look at any of them. His eyes stop on
Sokka, clearly surprised to find him already looking his way. Sokka, already fed up with
firebending assholes for this century, maybe even the next, doesn’t look away. Instead, he narrows
his eyes and tries to channel all the unsaid words, the ones that he’d fling out in a fit of anger, the
type that would leave scars he wouldn’t have to wear.
Zuko apparently gets the message, ducking his head low and going back to shrinking within
himself. Probably trying to be the first person in existence to manage to stop existing at will. If he
could do the same for the rest of his equally awful family, that’d be great. Sokka hopes he achieves
those goals. Look at him, being supportive. More than Zuko could say about himself.

Maybe he should go back to thinking optimistically. While hating Zuko might distract him from
what happened, he doubts it’s healthy in the long run. And spirits forbid he develops unhealthy
coping habits. He didn’t want to become Zuko, after all.

Alright, fine. He lets out a sigh, pushing the prince far from his mind as he focuses on the
upcoming journey ahead of them.

To no one's surprise, it’s Katara who finally addresses the polar bear dog in the room. Or maybe
just the firebender. It’s well after their escape, everyone getting off of Appa and continuing the trek
on foot. And all of that means Katara has easy access if she needs to dig a grave.

He’s made the mistake of drawing her attention when he’s stumbled, nearly losing his footing but
catching himself at the last second. It was enough movement to catch her eye. And Sokka saw the
gears turning in his sister’s head, counting down to the second that she finally erupted.

“Tell me again,” She begins, loudly. “Why is he here? Because I thought the goal was locking him
and his family away?”

It’s moments like these, when her voice grows hard like that but she’s plastering a smile on her
face out of pure spite, that she reminds him far too much of Gran-Gran. He feels a shiver go down
his spine at the reminder of getting in trouble as a kid.

Zuko doesn’t seem to have figured out what to do in this situation, clearly trying to figure out if he
should respond or not. In the end, he doesn’t, and it’s probably for the best. Just the sight of him is
enough to set everyone on edge. He doubted the sound of the boy actually talking would help
matters. No, it was better he kept trying not to exist.

The only one brave enough to actually answer is Aang. He counters her thinly veiled anger easily
with his gentle tone. “He’s gotta have some information. Plus, he would’ve been killed for
defecting to our side, Katara. There’s been enough loss for one day.”

She softens some. “I hardly doubt he’d be killed. But do we really have to bring him with us? Can’t
we just leave him somewhere?”

“Where would you suggest, sweet cheeks?” Toph snorts, gesturing around them.

It’s a fair point. While there’s plenty of space to just abandon the prince, there’s none that won’t
lead to him not being able to track them down. The grassy hills are far too open. And far too wide.
Sokka already regretted climbing off Appa. Scratch that, he regretted climbing out of bed this
morning.

“The bottom of the ocean,” Katara mumbled beneath her breath. It’s not quiet enough for them to
not hear, though. That much is clear when Zuko tenses even further. And like a piranha shark
getting a sniff of blood, she goes after the wounded animal. “You should’ve stayed in the capital
with the rest of your awful family. You’re all perfect for each other, really.”
At this, Toph shakes her head. “The awfulness not including your uncle. He’s kind of cool!”

Well, he had to agree with Toph there. The man had even helped them escape the Earth Kingdom
when his nephew had been less than helpful. Iroh was cool even if the rest of the family was just,
well, awful.

“I concur.” He pipes up, keeping his gaze ahead and not on the prince.

“You were so desperate to run to your father last time. Even after everything. So you’ll have to
excuse us if we’re suspicious.” She bites out, only ending there at her soulmate’s soft look of
warning.

When he does risk a glance back at the prince, he can see why. He’s drawn so tight that he wonders
how he hasn’t shattered from the pressure alone. It occurs to him then that maybe Zuko was never
meant to hold so much on his shoulders. Even with that softer boy he’d known being thoroughly
destroyed in his eyes, it might still apply to this equally fragile, more anxious, untrustworthy
prince.

Yet, even if he was on the other side, even if he was part of the nation that had taken and burned so
much of the world, he still had to be affected by the war. Not for the first time, he wonders at the
scar across his face, and if it’s origins are related to the war like most scars are these days.

“Azula plans to extract Ozai from the throne soon.” Zuko blurts out, the words seeming to surprise
even him.

They all pause, no one daring to take another step. With Toph’s sharp nod, they can confirm its
truth. And it’s a terrifying thought to have, Azula working her way to the throne and against her
father as she apparently is.

“What?” Aang still questions, eyes wide.

“Ozai is awful, yes. But Azula,” He trails off, his bottom lips between his teeth. “She has her
moments but she’s not. Completely awful, I mean. She’s on your side.”

It’s the wrong matter to finally speak up to, if Katara’s furrowed brows are to go by. “Yeah, cause
the many attempted murders and colonization of the Earth Kingdom really just convey that for us!”

He cringes back at that but doesn’t back down to Sokka’s surprise. “All on Ozai’s orders.”

“Right,” Katara laughs, bitter and humorless. “So you both just do whatever Daddy says? And that
excuses everything?”

“Of course not!” He exclaims, as if insulted at just the thought. “But it’s a complicated situation.
Ozai… he isn’t to be disobeyed. She had a role to fill but she’s trying to counter those actions
where she can.”

Katara stalks toward the prince, a dangerous look in her eyes that has them ready to pull her back.
“And what is this? A role? An order that can’t be disobeyed?” She mocks, lips curling as he takes a
step back. “Because I’m not fooled, not for a second. None of us are. So let me make this clear to
you. I’d watch you drown if given the choice. If you fuck up, it’s a choice I’ll happily make. Do I
make myself clear?”

He nods quickly.

“Good. Now, in the meantime, try to help me forget you’re even here.” She twirls back around on
her heels and goes back to walking.

Aang rushes to her side, hand on her upper arm and voice too low to hear. Sokka chooses to ignore
the seemingly intimate moment between them. He watches the prince instead and how he’s grown
pale. He doesn’t look surprised, maybe just a little shaken.

He stomps down the urge that wants to check on him. See if he’s alright. Or even just where his
head is at. Sokka sighs and keeps walking.

Scaling down the side of a mountain is something he hasn’t thought they’d be doing today. Then
again, that can be applied to quite a lot about the events that’s happened. It’s late and it’s long
grown dark though. It means it’s a tricky feat to pull off.

Toph does her best to help them, offering easy passage for Appa. But it’s the most she can do with
little sleep, exhaustion, and her concentration on moving the several tons that is a flying bison. So
Sokka puts his efforts into helping her especially.

They’re all exceedingly careful, no one willing to take another chance today. Especially not when
they’re facing such a fatal drop. He tries not to think of the thousands of miles he’d fall if his grip
slipped. It wouldn’t just be him going down, it would be Toph as well. And potentially Appa if she
hadn’t finished helping him.

Right. Shaking his head free of such thoughts, he lets out a breath of relief once his feet meet solid
ground. Toph does the same and the ground beneath Appa melds back into the side of the
mountain.

“Great, we’re here! Now goodnight!” Toph calls out, ready to stalk off and probably sleep
tomorrow away.

Katara huffs, pulling her back to their group with a hand on her shoulder. “Not quite yet. We need
to talk about what we’re going to do.”

“I’m on board for sleeping.” Sokka can’t help but say, more inclined to follow Toph’s actions than
his sisters. To be fair, that’s typically the case anyways.

“The Fire Lord isn’t going anywhere. At least not for tonight. Why don’t we get some rest and then
reconvene in the morning?” Aang suggests, just as a soft thud lands.

It reminds them of the prince in their presence and Sokka’s already sighing, knowing the issue
this’ll present. Sure enough, Katara narrows her eyes. “What do we do about him?”

“I’m sure sparky won’t slit our throats in our sleep just yet.” Toph figures with a shrug.

“I don’t even have a knife on me.” Zuko frowns, patting his pockets as if to give proof to such a
claim.

“Look, if it’s an issue, we can take watch. We probably should anyways, jerk or no jerk.” Sokka
suspects there will be scouts sent out, possibly on Azula’s orders or her father’s, but he’s not
willing to rely on luck to keep them safe. “I’ll even take the first watch.”
“Then I’ll go after you,” Aang offers with a pat on the back and a warm smile. “We all need sleep
so we should probably set up camp.”

“Zuko,” Katara calls out, so much venom laced in his name that it sounds like it’s an insult. “You
can serve to be useful and start the fire.”

He isn’t the only one surprised. Sokka didn’t think Zuko and fire would be a good mix for anyone
right now. It would set them on edge too much. But, if Katara was willing to oversee it, then it
would be fine. It would be a test, surely, but it’ll work out. Hopefully without any burns. Or
crying.

“I’ll get on it.” Zuko goes on like the perfect little soldier, collecting any debris he can use for a
fire. He hesitates in his next step, looking back at the girl. “I’ll have to keep close to it to keep the
fire going all night. So you might want to spread out some.”

It’s an unneeded statement. At least, it is for Sokka. He’d already planned on sleeping as far away
as possible from the other boy. So he watches him go, settling into a spot with a good vantage
point.

Aang and Katara make themselves cozy, their close proximity toeing the line between intimate and
respectable. He’ll excuse it for today. Toph secludes herself away to no one's surprise and he finds
an odd comfort in that. In the fact that not much has changed in their group dynamics. Then again,
Toph always has been the resilient one in the group.

He tries not to take notice in Zuko but it’s late and he’s tired and he can’t help his wandering brain.
Or his eyes. He watches the boy put together a little fire, the flames devouring everything he
offered it but still burning on. And, right, he’s controlling the flames. That’s… something he can’t
afford to think too hard ok right now.

Still, he looks sickly in the fire’s light. Dark bags beneath his eyes, his cheeks not as full as they
had been, and even his hair seeming limp as opposed to the fluff that Sokka remembered. A part of
him wants to be concerned but a larger, more rational part, drowns that voice out easily.

He looks away, fingertips digging into the side of his thighs to get rid of the phantom feeling of
soft, short locks and the edges of a burn. He already regrets bringing Zuko with them so whatever
happens after today, he figures it’ll be interesting. Especially with Katara’s mother hen tendencies
being dialed up to eleven with protectiveness. He’ll have to talk to her about that. Even if part of
him relished in the way Zuko squirmed under her gaze.

“Absolutely not!” Katara cries out, eyes wide and hands thrown into the air. “Are you forgetting
how quick he is to stab people in the back?! First Sokka, then his own family, and you want to
give him the chance to do it again?! No!”

“Look, I’m just saying, if we really are back to square one, it’s worth considering!” Toph defends
just as loudly.

Aang nods in agreement and Katara makes a wounded noise as if that alone is a betrayal. “I get it’s
not a good plan but it’s the only one we got. There’s not exactly an abundance of firebenders just
lying around right now. Especially not ones willing to teach me.”
“What about his uncle?” Katara desperately considers aloud.

“In prison,” Sokka explains shortly. That’s the last he heard, anyways.

“Actually,” Zuko quietly interjects. “Azula helped him escape during the invasion.”

“Do you know where we could find him?” Aang asks.

He shakes his head, looking back down. “No. We haven’t exactly been on speaking terms.”

At this, Sokka can’t help but scoff. “I wonder why.” That has him shrinking in on himself like he’d
been trying to do the day before and he counts it as a win for now. “So, Iroh is a no go. Not in
prison but MIA. Anyone else?”

“Jeong Jeong?” Aang suggests weakly.

Toph expression turns incredulous, her frown only deepening. “Who?”

“The admiral who deserted? You met him?” Zuko gasps, taking a few steps closer to them.

“Yeah, he tried to teach me firebending before. It… didn’t go so well. But we can try again, can’t
we?” Aang reasons.

Zuko shakes his head and Katara isn’t the only one glaring when Aang’s smile dims at the action.
“I doubt he’s willing to let himself be found again. He’s good at disappearing.”

“Right. So another old guy being MIA. That leaves Zuko. Again!” Toph points out, gesturing to
the awkward teen like she’s won this argument. And, well, maybe she had.

Katara covers her face with a sigh. “I don’t like this.”

“No one does,” Aang reminds her gently. “But we do what we have to do and then it’s over. We’ll
make it work.”

“Your right. The both of you. Okay. Fine. We do this and it’s over.” Katara reiterates, the words
spoken like a mantra. He doesn’t doubt she’s repeating them over and over in her head until they
lose any and all meaning.

“Zuko, will you be willing to teach me firebending?” Aang finally asks in a traditional bow, even
with Katara telling him it wasn’t needed.

Zuko, to their surprise, bows even lower. “It would be an honor, Avatar.”

“If you hurt him, if there’s ever an accident ,” Katara trails off, eyes burning more than any fire
ever could. “I’ll make you regret ever breathing.”

“Chill out, sugar queen. He gets it.” Toph snickers, dragging the prince off by his wrist. “Now I’m
gonna use Sparky as my seeing goat dog. If anyone dies, just holler!”

The panic that flashes across Zuko’s face is worth more than Sokka even knows. It has him
chuckling as he watches the two walk off. The irony is too funny not to laugh at. “Let’s hope your
new firebending teacher doesn’t run away.”

“I think Toph can handle him.” Aang grins, turning to face his soulmate. “How about we practice
some? The water fixtures shouldn’t be too bad.”
It has the tense lines in her face disappear and for that alone, Sokka could thank him. “That sounds
perfect. Let’s check them out.”

Domesticity settles over them in a way that has Sokka scratching at his skin. He’s thankful for the
reprieve, he is, but he’s able to recognize the calm before the storm now. And these past few days
have been just that.

The routine is what unsettles Sokka the most, mainly because it left him with little to do while
everyone practiced their bending. Outside of keeping watch, there wasn’t much he actually did.
Maybe occupying a bored Momo and Appa but other than that? Not really. He used to be tasked
with getting the fire set up but Zuko had taken that one up easily.

He didn’t like the time it gave him to think. His thoughts were always torn between two things. The
failed invasion and all that it entails or the presence of this stranger with a too familiar face. The
more Zuko reminded him of Ba Sing Se, like pouring them all tea for dinner, blushing bright red
when Katara actually complimented it, or that nose scrunch he gets when focusing on helping
Aang, the more Sokka gets angry.

When a week finally passes, when all the little things have added up like tallies against him, it’s no
surprise he feels moments away from combusting. The lack of contact between them, something
he’s taken to being grateful for, feels like a slap in the face now. They hardly take care in not
mentioning the other, careful to avoid being caught looking, and it’s a barrier that Sokka hates as
much as he hates the other boy.

So, finally sick and tired of this buzzing energy beneath his flesh and a lack of any other way to get
it out, he digs through his things until he finds them. Two swords that aren’t too sharp. Perfect for
sparring.

He remembers the way Zuko had used his own blades before. Remembers how he talked about the
way this came easier to him than bending ever did. He just hopes Zuko hasn’t gotten rusty.

He stomps over to the scarred boy in question and throws the sheathed sword to his feet. “You and
me, one on one, no bending. Get up.”

Zuko looks up, mouth moving silently, before he closes it and just pulls himself to his feet.
“Alright.”

The others look on warily. It’s only Katara that speaks, though. “Call if you need us.”

He doesn’t say anything to that, just walks till he finds an area that’ll work for a sparring area.
“You remember how to do this?”

Zuko nods, lowering himself into a stance. “Yeah.”

“If you hold back, I’ll have Katara make you into kabobs.” Sokka threatens, knowing full well his
sister truly would if that’s what he wanted. She might’ve grown less harsh with the boy but that
meant nothing if he angered her brother or upset him in any way. Again.

“And if you hold back?” Zuko counters.

Sokka just grins. “I won’t be.”

When he finally, finally manages to pin down the sneaky little bastard, it’s an achievement that has
him smiling maniacally as he keeps the tip of his blade at Zuko’s throat. “Do you yield?”

Zuko’s as out of breath as he is, his chest heaving heavily. He holds up his hands in defeat, his
sword kicked too far away. “I yield.”

He almost helps him to his feet but thinks better of it. Instead, he leans back and wipes the sweat
from his brow with the bottom of his shirt. That feeling under his skin is still there but it’s subdued
for now. Apparently all it took was exhausting his body and beating a prince. It wasn’t with his
bare hands, as he might have considered more than once, but this’ll have to do.

“Could you always fight like that?” Zuko pants, propping himself up by his elbows.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” Sokka begins, leveling him with a look. “But I found a master
and have been trying to keep a routine practice schedule.”

“Well, you thoroughly kicked my ass. So I’d say you’ve been doing good. Really good, actually.”
He tries with a smile but it falls quickly when Sokka gives him nothing in return. “Sokka.”

And oh, that tone just has him revolting already. He hates it. Hates how it sounds like he’s about to
be reprimanded when he’s in the clear between the two. Like he’s the childish one. “What?” He
bites out.

He’s quiet for too long, taking that time to stand up and dust himself off. “I’m… Tell me what to
do here. I know I fucked up. I did. And you have every right to be angry with me! To hold that
against me! But I can’t… tell me what to do so we don’t suffocate each other. Because we will at
this rate.”

“Well,” Sokka drawls out, swallowing thickly. He goes over the words in his mind, marinating in
them until he’s gotten a good sense of them, and he finds he hates what’s there. He hates what
isn’t. “You can actually start with an apology.”

“I’m sorry.” He follows immediately.

Sokka just shakes his head. “No. A real one. One that doesn’t have to be prompted.”

“I thought…” Zuko huffs before cutting himself off.

Sokka, though, he hears it. Can already taste the unsaid words. And he chases after them with a
vengeance. “Thought what? What did you think , Zuko? Because I’ve always had issues figuring
that out myself.”

“I thought this would’ve shown that I’m sorry! That I understand I made a mistake! I ruined
everything I had and now I’m desperately trying to make things right! So please, Sokka!” He
pleads, voice cracking. “Help me make this right. Or at least help me do right by you. All of you.”

His first instinct is to shout that there is nothing he can do. To take away such a childish hope. But
then he reconsiders and he knows how cruel that would be. He isn’t cruel. Or, he tries not to be. So
he considers it. “You said you knew where Suki was being held. Do you think they took anyone
else there after the invasion?”
 “It’s the most secure prison facility for the most important people. There should be some.” He
answers, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows thickly.

“Then help me get them. You want to make things right by us? By me? You help get them out.”
Sokka offers his hand tentatively, trying not to imagine the many, many ways this can go
sideways.

Zuko takes his hand like it’s something precious and he ignores the flip flop feeling in his stomach
as they shake on it. He can do this. He can rescue Suki, his father from the sounds of it, and maybe
even Bato. He can do this.

The boy in front of him catches his eyes, so hesitant yet so determined. For some reason, that
brings Sokka comfort. They can do this. Zuko’s a lot of things, a fighter being one of them. He’ll
fight to make this right and that’s all he can ask for.

Chapter End Notes

So Sokka and Katara are big mad. Sokka makes sense but I feel like I need to defend
Katara’s anger? Mainly cause they didn’t have that moment. But he and Sokka did and
Katara is super protective of her loved ones. We know this. And she already didn’t
like Zuko. So, uh, hopefully that explains it better if anyone is confused at her anger? I
didn’t mean to bump her up to 11 but whoops.

(To be fair, I would be her in this situation. So I get it lol)

I’d like to say the next update won’t be in a month but uh. We’ll see. I’m excited about
the next chapter though and it’s halfway done so fingers crossed I finish it fairly
quickly.
 finding truth beneath your skin
Chapter Summary

The Boiling Rock but gay

Chapter Notes

This one is a monster of the chapter and it’s much sooner than expected. It’s double
the usually length of my chapters but I figured it flowed well enough together so I
couldn’t cut it in half. So uh. Surprise. Happy Total Elimination of Nuclear Weapons
day? (Yes that’s a thing. Aren’t I full of surprises?)

Sokka worries the cuticles of his thumb, staring at the sky bison with possibles racing through his
mind. He’d mentioned taking Appa with them but Zuko, the jerk, had shot that down immediately.
Apparently the intensity of the heat would be too much for the fur covered creature.

Speaking of heat, they needed a way to get across the boiling waters around the, well, Boiling
Rock. Apt name, it seems. It’d be easier if they could just fly across but, well, that didn’t seem
very likely.

The current plan they have is feeble at best, reckless at worst, but it’s the only one they’ve got.
And that’s to go to a town with a port and try to find a sturdy enough boat to rent with the money
Zuko had brought with him. It’d take maybe a day until they finally reached the prison but he
hoped the prince, who’d previously lived on a boat, would be able to get them there as quickly as
possible.

His only concern now was how to tell the others about the trip. He’d debated telling them some
lame story about a fishing trip but thought better of it. Toph would see through that easily. He just
had to find a way to break it to Katara now.

Blurting it out hadn’t been his intended method but sometimes things happen. “Zuko and I are
gonna be gone for a while.”

She whips her head around, the water she’d been pulling from their clothes falling back into the
bucket. “What? Why? How long?”

“We’re heading out sometime tomorrow. He says he knows where Suki is,” He thinks about
mentioning their dad and Bato but hesitates, not wanting to disappoint her if it doesn’t work out
that way. “We shouldn’t be gone longer than a week.”

“A week?!” She gasps and he knows her well enough to know the tirade she’s about to begin.
“Absolutely not! I don’t trust it! For all we know, this can be an elaborate scheme to dispose of
you! Or he could be lying! Besides, what about Aang? He just started learning firebending!”

Taking a long, deep breath, Sokka grabs hold of his sister’s shoulders. “I know what I’m doing, I’ll
be okay. And you don’t have to trust him but please trust me. I have to do this, Katara.”

She must see the resolve in his eyes because she doesn’t argue against it. “Fine. One week. If
you’re not back by then, I’ll hunt you down myself.”

“Despite your inability to track, I’ll take your word for it.” He can’t help but chuckle, remembering
the lessons that she never seemed to retain. Sure, she was decent at catching the fish, but that was
the extent of her hunting prowess.

She rushes forward, embracing him with a strength that has him choking at first. “Please don’t get
yourself killed.”

“I’ll try not to,” He wheezes, patting her back. He really hopes he can keep such a promise. But he
can’t afford to not be realistic for where they’re going.

When Aang lowers Appa to the forest floor, his nerves hit him at full force. Because it occurs to
him, truly occurs to him, how stupid this plan of theirs is. He’s been telling himself it’s ridiculous
if not ingenious but no. No, it’s just completely stupid and their going to fail before they even start.

Something will go wrong and it’ll send this whole thing crumbling down. Someone will recognize
one of them and refuse service. The ship will sink before they even make it. They’ll finally kill
each other on the way. Or, they get recognized in the prison and then they’ll be stuck there. Maybe
even die there.

“Are you alright?” Aang worries, looking back at him over his shoulder. “We can go back if you
want.”

But he can’t. Not after worrying everyone and planning this entire thing. Not with Zuko already on
the ground and waiting for him with a patience that he’s slowly adjusting to. “No, I’m alright. Just
getting ready. Be careful getting back to camp.”

Aang smiles brightly and nods. “I will! You two be safe.”

“Don’t forget your breathing practices! Katara has instructions for the next week so go over them
with her!” Zuko calls out as Sokka carefully climbs out of the saddle.

Aang’s smile falters but it doesn’t leave his face for too long. “You got it, Sifu Hotman!”

The expression Zuko pulls is one that helps alleviate his nerves, just a little bit. He saves Aang the
now familiar lecture about outdated slang and pulls the other boy along. And he’s careful to watch
the sky as Appa flies back to the temples, sighing once they’re finally out of sight.

The trek to the village isn’t too bad and the sun is still up despite their late start. And the range of
ships to choose from hasn’t changed any from their first look over the town. Overall, things seem to
be going well. They continue to do so even as they rent a small cutter boat with Sokka lying
through his teeth.

“We’ll be back by the end of the night.” He promises the man, forking over the amount of coins
they’d finally agreed on.
The man doesn’t even bother to acknowledge them after that, counting his coins with a grin. They
take it as a good sign and board the ship, the first step being ticked off in his head as a job well
done. He only hopes it continues to keep going this smoothly.

It’s well into an hour before the silence breaks between them. In fact, it’s probably well into quite a
few hours. But Sokka’s been left with nothing to look at but the sea, the boat, and the dark haired
teen. Every accidental glance in the wrong direction has him spiraling and he’s certain this isn’t
healthy for his sanity. Certain that this isn’t healthy for anyone’s sanity, really.

It’s that line of thinking that prompts him to actually break the stifling silence. “How’d you do this
for like a year straight? I’m already losing it.”

Zuko glances at him from the corner of his good eye and shrugs. “Well, I didn’t have to constantly
check on the sails. Plus, I had people who ran it for me. But it was longer than a year.”

“What do you mean? Aang didn’t pop out of the iceberg until recently.” He snorts. They might’ve
gotten side tracked many, many times but he has a decent sense of time. At least a better one than
Zuko.

“I uh,” He pauses, wetting his lips as he looks away. “I was at sea for over three years.”

His brain comes to a halt and any mocking amusement he’d felt before fades instantly. He does the
mental math easily and he doesn’t like the picture it paints. Not at all. “That’s insane.”

It startles a smile out of the prince which he adds to that old tally board in his head. “Maybe. But I
was under orders so…”

“Still insane, dude.” He shakes his head, chalking this one up to yet another oddity of the Fire
Nation. Or maybe just it’s royal family.

“Still insane.” Zuko finally concedes with a laugh that has his staring.

He forces himself to look away, mouth dry, and checks on the sails. “At least Iroh was with you.”

It’s too late to realize his misstep but he’s oddly glad it makes that smile, the one that’s starting to
hurt his chest when he looks on for too long, dim some. “Yeah, I am. I owe a lot to him.”

“No shit.” Sokka tightens the rope as the wind gets stronger. And when he finally realizes the air is
getting a little warmer, he glances back at Zuko.

He seems to get the message and his eyebrows furrow with concentration. “We’re getting closer.”

He gulps and nods. Tries to prepare himself for what they’re about to do, what they’re about to
accomplish. There are words on the tip of his tongue that he wants to say but he hesitates when he
considers the rest of the ride. So he holds them, at least for the meantime. He relies on Zuko to
point him the right direction and he feels the dread in his stomach build the closer they get.

They can hardly see passed the steam from the water when they finally reach the island. It’s
suffocatingly hot and they have to wipe the sweat from their brow every few minutes. In short, it’s
the worst and Sokka would hate the Fire Nation for having places like this alone. It’s just the icing
on top for his growing list, though.

The armor weighs him down in every sense and he hates how it feels against his skin. It isn’t like
the stolen uniforms they’d worn for months. This prison guard uniform is thicker, heavier, and
more reminiscent of the armor Zuko once wore. He hates it and has to actively resist peeling it off
his flesh every chance he gets.

He sucks it up for now. And he plays his part of lookout, protecting the other teen currently
rummaging through official scrolls and lists just passed the door. It’s only been half a day of them
fulfilling these roles of guards and he cannot stress just how much he hates it. Hates it even more
than those weeks they’d pretended to be Fire Nation while Aang recovered.

Fortunately enough for them, it seemed the staff on the prison was regularly on rotation, so two
new guards were nothing to blink at. Considering what he’s seen of this place so far, that isn’t so
surprising. Anyone who didn’t request an immediate transfer was probably the type to get a kick
out of abusing their power, which never bodes well for anyone.

The soft two knocks against the door brings him out of the shitty quality of life on the Boiling
Rock. He glances at either side of the hall, even taking a moment to listen closely, before he slowly
opens up the office door. “So?”

Zuko’s wary expression is a bad sign and it has his bad mood only worsening. “Suki really is here
but that’s all. For now, at least. In another few days, there’ll be a new shipment of prisoners
coming in.”

Well, it’s not the completely awful news Sokka had expected. In fact, it’s good news. “Did it say
anything about the people coming in?”

“Just that they were war prisoners,” He answers with an increasingly deepening frown. “Do you
want to wait for them?”

“Yes.” He doesn’t hesitate to answer, no question in his mind. He has to do at least that. Especially
if it’s someone he knows. Especially if it’s his dad.

Zuko nods, looking awfully determined and he’s glad for that. Relieved, even. “Then we wait.”

The next step, outside of waiting, is getting Suki in on their plan. The issue, they find quite
quickly, is that the girl is constantly on edge. She snarls and bares her teeth at anyone who dares to
even look at her, looking more warrior than human.

She’s terrifying in her ferociousness and by the spirits, does Sokka love that girl. Like a sister,
obviously. And woah, how hadn’t he realized sooner the similarities she shared with his actual
blood-sister? Or is it just the fact that girls in general are scary?

Maybe it’s just the girls he knows. But then he considers the girls that Zuko might know,
specifically his sister and her equally crazy friends, and reconsiders that. No, all girls are scary.
“You stand watch,” He tells Zuko, quickly making his way to Suki’s cell. It’s his last resort.

Zuko makes a series of noises that can’t possibly be human before he grabs hold of Sokka’s arm. It
tingles where he holds it and Sokka does the mature thing by ripping himself away. “What exactly
are you planning?”

“To talk to her, duh.” He rolls his eyes, turning on his heels to continue his pursuit.

Zuko stops him again. “How? By cornering her in her cell?!”

“Yes!” He answers, quickly fed up by whatever it is the prince is playing at. “Look, I’ll show her
it’s me and then it’ll be fine.”

“You’ll give her a heart attack before she even realizes it’s you!” Zuko snaps at him and it’s the
first time he ever truly has.

Arguing is one thing but this feels different. This feels like it’s Sokka in the wrong. “What do you
suggest then?!”

“Not barging into a female prisoner's cell dressed as a prison guard!” He exclaims, eyes wide and
wild like he’s surprised he even has to explain that.

Which, yeah, Sokka hadn’t considered that before. Not one bit. He instantly feels guilty for that
fact and sighs. “Fuck, what are we gonna do?”

Zuko’s quiet for a minute before he pinches the bridge of his nose and deeply sighs. “Take off your
armor.”

“What?” He asks sharply.

“Your armor. She’ll realize you aren’t a guard this way and she won’t kill you immediately.” He
slowly explains, looking at him expectedly.

Realizing he’s expected to strip right then and there has his flushing brightly. Sure, he has basic
underclothes on, but it’s the implications he resents. “Turn around.”

Zuko just rolls his eyes and does as told. “I’ll keep watch. Let me know when everything is sorted
and I’ll slip the armor into the cell for you.”

“If she still kicks my ass, I’m kicking yours.” Sokka warns, cringing at the loud clanking of metal
as his chest plate hits the floor.

“If you do as I said, you won’t get your ass kicked.” He counters back easily, snickering to
himself.

Sokka just grumbles to himself, looking down at the dark grey underpants and tank top. He feels
far too exposed but less like a threat. Fuck, Zuko had been right. “Asshole.”

Suki, it turns out, is more amused than anything at his state of undress. That’s only after she hugs
him, though. And after he explains the plan to her.
It turns out, their suspicions were right along, and it’s proven when the new prisoners arrive. One
by one, they get off the gondola, and Sokka holds his breath the entire time. When two watertribe
men step off, achingly familiar men, he feels like he can finally breathe.

When his father leaves a lasting impression on the warden, he can’t help but be so insanely proud.
His act of defiance is all Sokka needed to see to know the man is alright, mentally and physically.
He’s alright. And by Bato’s smirk, he’d say the same for him.

Everything has been going according to plan thus far and that’s something that’s been setting
Sokka on edge. So of course, when he’s snuck into his father’s cell and explaining everything to
him, do things go sideways. And his heart lodges in his throat as he’s forced to sit behind the door,
unable to move for the time being.

When he does finally creep out, he sees Zuko kicking flames at another soldier, the heat too close
to comfort for Sokka. And when he’s told to help stop the imposter, he tries to be as gentle as he
can without giving anything away. Zuko goes limp in his hold, the fight being sucked out of him,
and it’s a worrying thought.

“The plan hasn’t changed. We’ll leave here soon and you’re still coming back with us.” He says in
a rushed whisper before pushing the other teen into an empty cell.

Zuko just nods, fists clenched at his sides. The other guard throws a prisoner uniform at him. “The
warden will be with you soon.”

Sokka doesn’t want to walk away. Doesn’t want to leave him there at their mercy, especially not
when they discover who he is. And he plans to hurry up their time frame of escape. The quicker
they leave this place, the better.

He doesn’t see Zuko at all the next day and as reluctant as he is to admit it, it worries him
immensely. He even goes so far as to ask around but no one has heard anything, not even the
prisoners according to Suki. He hates how much that makes him worry even more.

He figures it’s because the guy is actually making a conscious effort to be a decent human being
now. He finally believes that Zuko really does want to repent for the past. Every action has shown
that so far.

For fucks sake, he helped Sokka break into a prison and helped him plan to break out of one. He
doesn’t think anyone disingenuous would take it that far. He’s still cautious, certainly, but that
doesn’t change the fact that he can at least acknowledge Zuko is trying . Even he doesn’t deserve to
be abandoned in the Boiling Rock.

Despite desperately wanting an answer for where the prince was, he regrets it when he gets it. He’s
still in his cell and Sokka only just managed to sneak in to see him. To check on him.

The blossoming bruise under his good eye and the smeared blood in the corner of his mouth does
something funny to his blood. It has his head feeling light and his veins boiling. And just like that,
he can imagine pummeling the warden with his bare hands. Can easily see himself taking
retribution on any mark against Zuko’s skin. Because how dare he lay a hand on his sou—

“Sokka?” Zuko calls, his voice distant to his ears.

It brings him back though. It calms the inferno building beneath his skin if only a little bit. “Hey
there, stranger. How are you feeling?”

“I’ll be fine,” He says with a weak smile. “But the warden notified my father and found the boat.
You’ll have to find a way out of here, quickly.”

“And what, leave you here? Fat chance, man.” He easily pushes the mere thought of that away. It’s
a stark contrast to his thoughts just days ago but he can’t think too hard on that right now. Not with
Zuko looking up at him like he’s afraid Sokka will disappear.

The boat is another matter, though. He’s only slightly terrified about their only means off the island
being destroyed. But there has to be another way. He’ll figure this out. He has to. He has so many
people counting on him and he won’t fail them, not again.

“I can’t convince you otherwise?” Zuko sighs, that small smile betraying his true feelings on the
matter.

“Not this time,” He shakes his head, trying for a small laugh but falling short. “My dad and Bato
are in on it. We’ll try to find a way out. Maybe causing a distraction and slipping out unnoticed?”

“Shouldn’t be too hard with rowdy prisoners,” Zuko smirks, like he could ever be rowdy in his
current state.

“You mean stubborn with a martyr complex.” He corrects none so gently.

“Is that supposed to describe you or me?” He quips, leaning his head back. It shows off the shiner
coming in even better and Sokka has to remind himself that he can’t murder the warden. Not yet at
least.

Still, Zuko has a point, as loathe as he is to admit it. “AsshoIe,” He laughs, hands on hips. He’s
about to ask about the bruises when they hear the footsteps. And it’s with a heavy heart that he
tells him. “I’ve got to go.”

“Stay safe.” Zuko calls out, as if he isn’t the one in chains and bruised.

Sokka sighs but nods his head. “I will be. You do what you can to stay safe too.”

Zuko doesn’t make any promises and he doesn’t blame him for that. Even if it weighs heavy on his
chest. Sokka debates sending the spirits a prayer about it but thinks otherwise, thinks it might be a
step too far. If he sends a thought up to Yue though, then that’s no one's business but his own.

It doesn’t take long for word to break out across the prison. The Traitorous Prince Zuko, they call
him. The war criminals, the ones that hold no love of the Fire Nation, speak of him like fun new
gossip. But the fanatics, the criminals that are justifiably there from what Sokka has seen and
heard, they speak his name like it’s a curse from the spirits. They speak it like so many speak of
the Fire Lord, ironically enough.

Zuko keeps his head held high like the prince he is. The prince that Sokka so often forgets he is
behind just name and title. It’s a side he hasn’t seen much of. After all, he had no reason to see it in
Ba Sing Se, not when he’d been the furthest thing from a prince. It’s… interesting.
The amount of time it takes an inmate to approach him is worryingly small. His green eyes and the
way he says Fire Nation like it’s a disease tells Sokka all he needs to know about him. Specifically
that he’s not from the Fire Nation.

“Not so tough without riding Daddy’s coattails, huh?” He grins with malice and teeth that seem to
be rotting inside his mouth.

Zuko ignores him until he no longer can. He’s forced to retrain the man, keeping him as far away
as he can. The man thrashes and hollers, gaining everyone’s attention. Prisoners surround them,
encouraging the fight and yelling at one of the two to land heavy handed hits.

Sokka watches in awe as Zuko pins the man down with an agility he’s almost envious of. Even
when the man bucks him off, tries throwing the boy over his shoulder, Zuko remains where he is.
He ducks under reaching hands, sliding on the floor between the man’s legs, and kicks the back of
his knee to have him fall.

With a man of that size, Sokka’s not surprised by the loud thud he makes when he falls. The bigger
they are, the harder they fall, he remembers his dad always telling him. But he’s forced to move, to
no longer enjoy the show, when another officer comes upon the scene.

“Settle down!” Sokka hollers, looking over the prince just in case. He’s fine for the most part. No
new injuries, fortunately.

Zuko just watches him and Sokka hates that he can’t quite read his expression. The other guard
stalks over to them, faceplate lifted to show her ugly sneer. “What’s going on here?”

“Your prince is as much as a savage as the rest of you people are,” The man spits at the woman’s
feet. His face lights up when she only grows angrier.

“Guard!” She calls and Sokka looks her way. “Take this one to solitary confinement. I’ll take our
honored guest to the cooler.”

Zuko’s gaze snaps up and Sokka... his chest caves in at the pleading look. He digs his nails into his
palm, seeking anything that’ll distract him from the scarred teen, but his hands are gloved and it
doesn’t accomplish much. So, he takes the man and escorts him away, keeping his hold strong and
steady even as the man keeps thrashing in his hold.

“Hope you, uh, hope you three are keeping the floor clean!” Sokka exclaims in lieu of greeting,
mindful of the guard walking past them.

Bato just shakes his head. “You’re about as subtle as your father, kid.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. So, thank you very much!” Sokka rolls his eyes, ditching his
faceplate once they’re in the clear.

“About as funny as him, too.” Suki snorts, leaning on the handle of her mop.

Hakoda just shakes his head. “Not appreciated in our time, son.”

Bato and Suki turn to each other with a look that Sokka resents immensely. They both start
cackling and he realizes the horror he’s committed. He made the mistake of introducing Bato to
Suki and how hadn’t he seen the mistake in that before? Oh spirits, he’s sorry to the human kind if
this is how they’re going to be.

Then he remembers Zuko being carted off and his brief, pleading look. He becomes solemn quite
quickly and it must show on his face because the three of them grow quiet. “We have an issue.”

“What’s going on?” Hakoda’s the one to ask, looking about as concerned as Sokka feels.

“A number of things,” He begins with a deep sigh, the amount of things wrong finally catching up
to him. “Zuko’s in the cooler for one. Secondly, our ride out of here was found and disposed of.
And thirdly, the Fire Lord has been notified about Zuko’s presence. We have to get going and
soon. I don’t want to stick around when the Fire Lord’s men get here.”

“Well, shit.” Bato frowns, taking a step back.

Suki nods in agreement before putting her hands on her hips. He swears he can see a flash of
warrior paint over her face if he looks closely enough. “Shit is right. But Zuko will be released
soon. I don’t know if he’ll exactly be in fighting condition but there’s enough of us for him to be
helped. We just have to find a way out once he is.”

“There’s only one way out. A very heavily guarded way out.” Sokka reminds them, mind racing to
figure this out.

“The original plan was to cause a distraction. Cause one big enough and it might not be so
guarded.” Hakoda points out.

And that… that might work. “Rowdy prisoners,” He mumbles to himself, remembering what Zuko
had suggested before. “A prison riot.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard,” Bato grins, the excitement reflected in his eyes.

“Alright, okay,” Sokka takes a deep breath, forcing his thoughts to slow down enough to get a
firmer grasp of the plan forming in his head. “Dad, you’re in charge of getting the riot going
tomorrow. Bato, your job is getting him out of it and meeting up with us at the gondola. Suki, you
begin clearing the way for us ahead of time. And I’ll get Zuko once he’s out of the cooler. Good?”

“Good.” They all agree.

The sound of footsteps, heavy metal ones, forces him to put his faceplate back into place. “Now
finish up and get some rest for the night.”

By the time another guard reaches their floor, Sokka’s standing in the corner opposite from them.
He isn’t quite so happy at how easily he plays a Fire Nation soldier now but since it’s helping in
the long run, he’ll make due. Especially if it pays off.

The first thing he wanted to do that morning was get Zuko out of the cooler. But that didn’t seem to
be the plan as the warden had summoned all the guards to announce the upcoming arrival of
Princess Azula. He’d practically threatened them to behave and Sokka had tuned him out after two
minutes of the man trying to be intimidating.
According to the warden, she’d be there soon enough. He just hoped it was well after they escaped.
Zuko might’ve said she was against the Fire Lord but Sokka refused to rely on that. He’d seen her
do enough damage even as a double agent.

When they were released, Sokka rushed to the cooler, easily tricking the guard in front of the door.
Once the hallway was cleared, he opened the door, the rush of cold making him shiver. It's
followed by the guilt that drops heavy in his stomach. Just looking at Zuko, shivering violently but
still alive, he knows he should’ve come sooner.

Then there’s a flame that escapes past his lips and oh. Sokka doesn’t think that’s normal. Or, he
hasn’t seen any other firebender do that. Not the ones he’s released from the cooler these past few
days, at least. When Zuko looks up, there’s a flash of panic that has him swallowing thickly. But
then he recognizes Sokka and the smile, no matter how small or weak, is one that is blinding.

“You ready to get outta here?” Sokka questions softly, reaching out his hand.

Zuko stares at it for a minute before nodding, grasping his hand with freezing fingers and pulling
himself up. “We need to hurry. The warden said Azula was coming.”

“He saw you?” Sokka asks, frowning at the thought.

“Yeah. He mainly just stood there and tried to be intimidating. It didn’t work,” Zuko shakes his
head with a tightness around his eyes. “But the warm air was a relief so it wasn’t too bad a visit.”
He tries with a soft laugh.

Sokka shuts the cooler door and begins to guide him to the courtyard. He keeps glancing at the
prince from the corner of his eyes, trying to find anything out of place. “He didn’t hurt you, did
he?”

“Besides making the cooler even colder after he left? No. I’m alright.” Zuko promises and even
though Sokka doesn’t trust it completely, he lets it go for now.

“Then I expect you to keep up,” He teases lightly, picking up the pace. And then they hear a flood
of soldiers walking down the hall they’re about to join. Quickly, Sokka backs up, bringing Zuko
with him. “What on earth do they need with that many people?”

“Usually formality. I think Azula’s here.” Zuko tells him, swallowing thickly.

Sokka curses under his breath, knowing how much more difficult this is about to be. But they can
do this. They can. “Likelihood of her helping us?”

“Maybe thirty percent. I don’t think any of us will die, though.” He figures optimistically.

And, well. That’s at least something. “We’ve escaped worse odds.”

“You’re right,” Zuko nods and Sokka can actually see the determination grow in his eyes, the fight
being sparked just like that. “We’ve got this.”

“We’ve got this,” Sokka repeats back absentmindedly, staring at the other boy. He shakes himself
and realizes they’re in the clear with no one around. “Come on.”
“This isn’t how I wanted to become an only child, Zuzu!” The princess with blue fire surrounding
her calls out.

“Never my intention either, believe me!” He hollers back, twisting in the air with that grace only he
could pull off. Well, he and his sister.

“I mean, honestly, it’s barely been two weeks and you’re already in prison!” She cackles,
electricity sparking near her and casting an unpleasant shadow over her face.

Sokka doesn’t like it. He can tell Zuko’s pulling his punches but he’s fairly certain Azula isn’t. And
he can’t afford to help him either at the moment. He and Suki make good work of the guards but
they keep coming. Bato was at least able to get the gondola ready. They just have to get there
now.

“Dad!” He calls, cursing the spirits when he realizes he’s fighting the warden. “Get the guy
handled and come on!”

There’s an opening, a small one, and he takes it. Suki follows his lead and together, they make it to
the gondola. Hakoda and Zuko notice and they both handle their fights. By that, Zuko just barely
scrambles away from his sister. His dad? Well, Hakoda seems to think that handling the guy means
bringing him with them.

“Release me at once! Never in my years have I ever seen such disobe—” He looks around the
gondola, eyes stopping on the scarred teen. He looks far too pleased if someone were to ask Sokka.
“Oh, well, it makes sense that you’re behind this Prince Zuko. After all, you wear the face of
disobedience.”

There’s a niggling feeling pressed against the back of his throat. One that Sokka pointedly doesn’t
pay any attention to but promises to later. When they’re safe and off this island.

Zuko just shakes his head, hefting the warden up as he glances to the platform. It’s only a few feet
away and they can see them parting for Azula, all fearful of her narrowed eyes. “Get them before
they reach my ship!”

“She’s got a way off the island,” Sokka gasps.

“A way that she’s probably got guarded. We’ll be ambushed before we even get inside it.” Suki
gently adds, slouching against the wall.

“No,” Zuko interjects. “We’ll get there before anyone else can. She just told us a way out.”

“Thirty percent chance.” Sokka laughs, feeling like he’s dreaming. Sure, Zuko told him Azula
wasn’t exactly on the side they thought she was but now he’s finally realizing it.

“What are you talking abo-?!” The warden ends there, Hakoda standing over him with the pipe
he’d fought with to get here.

“I figured he’d be easier to handle like this.” He points out, his logic not entirely false.

“Probably for the best. At least they won’t shoot us down with him inside too.” Bato snorts though
he still cuffs his chief over the back of his head.

“And he can’t overhear either.” Suki adds, glancing back at the princess below.

Well, none of them are wrong enough for Sokka to argue. So for now, he leaves it, and focuses on
getting across. They use the few minutes of peace to catch their breath and regulate their racing
hearts.

When the gondola finally does reach the other side, they find an airship ready to go. They also find
two girls waiting in front of it. Sokka, not knowing how to handle Azula’s friends, turns to Zuko
and gives him the reins in this situation.

It turns out he hadn’t needed to. Ty Lee, if he remembers right, just skips over to them and throws
herself at Zuko. The teen, for his part, catches her easily but looks mighty uncomfortable in the
one-sided hug. It’s an odd enough sight that Sokka can’t help but chuckle at.

“Oh Zuko! It’s so good to see you! And you seem so much happier now! I’m glad you and your
fated came together again!” She gushes, her smile so incredibly big that Sokka wonders if he
should be worried.

“Ty Lee!” He exclaims, his pale skin flushing a pretty pink. He finally pulls away from the girl and
doesn’t even flinch at her pout. “Look, it’s good to see you too, but we have to go.”

“Oh, right!” Just like that, any trace of being upset is gone. “The ships cleared out already. Azula
figured you didn’t have a plan and made this one in case.”

“We had a plan,” Sokka can’t help but mumble, stepping forward. Ty Lee levels him with a look
that he flushes at and suddenly Zuko’s blush doesn’t seem quite so funny.

The girl’s opposite, Mai, his brain reminds him, opens the hatch for them. “You’ll have to find a
new place to camp. There’s trackers in all of these. But you should have enough time to do that.
Just don’t doddle and you’ll be good.”

Zuko’s the first one on board but he pauses to look back at the gothic girl. “Your uncles on the
gondola. Sorry about that.”

“Eh. He probably deserved it. He’s a dick.” She shrugs. “Take care of yourself, Zuko.”

“You too, Mai.” He returns, ushering the rest of them onto the airship.

Sokka’s the last one on and he spares a wary glance at Mai before he turns his attention to the ship.
It’s unnecessarily large, at least it is for just the five of them. But it’ll get them to the temples a lot
quicker and he’s thankful for that. He’s ready to be back with the others.

It’s late. He hadn’t realized how late it was until the sky was already dark and he wonders just
where exactly the day went. Everything seemed to happen so quickly during the escape that he’s
surprised to realize just how long it actually took them.

He should probably follow Suki and Bato’s lead, to go catch some sleep before they reach the
temples, but he can’t get his mind calm enough to do that. His dad even took up controlling the
ship so he can’t distract himself like that anymore either.

So when he stumbles upon Zuko, staring up at the sky in the moonlight, it’s a welcome distraction.
And it reminds him of the small things he’s slowly been adding together, a question too heavy to
ask on the tip of his tongue.
Instead, he takes a spot next to him and makes himself comfortable against the wall. “So…”

Zuko startles, only slightly, and looks over to him. The silence is heavy between them but he
doesn’t break it, not at first. He just keeps his eyes on Sokka before sighing and looking away.
“Just say whatever it is.”

He has a moment where he tries to deny it but when Zuko looks less than convinced, he drops the
act. “How do you even know there’s something wanna say?”

Those golden eyes flicker back to him and they’re… pained. That’s all Sokka can come up with for
what he sees in them. “Because I know you, Sokka.”

He remembers those days with his chest feeling hollowed out. The days where everyone kept
checking on him when the Avatar laid comatose a few rooms over. He still felt remnants of that
hollowness even now. He looks away. “But I don’t know you. Not really.”

“You and uncle know me better than I know myself.” He argues softly but Sokka knows he’s right
in this.

He gulps and resigns to face this head on. He always has to when it comes to Zuko. “How’d you
get your scar?”

“What?” He asks breathlessly, as if those five words had knocked the air from his lungs. “Why—”

“I used to think it was training. Something stupid, you know? And I thought about asking before.
Back in Ba Sing Se. But it never felt like an appropriate time and things fell apart.” He tries to
explain himself. “You say things, worrying things, and I’ve always brushed them off. Figured
that’s what the Fire Nation is like. But that was wrong of me and maybe I just didn’t want to know.
Didn’t want to put the pieces together to see the truth that it made. I know now with certainty that it
wasn’t a training accident. I don’t think it was an accident at all. What happened?”

Zuko goes back to looking at the sky and he stays quiet for a long time. Long enough that Sokka
worries he’s pushed too far and is beginning to feel shame creep up on him. And when he does
speak, his voice sounds wrecked in a way that Sokka feels in his bones. “It was an Agni Kai. I
spoke up during a war council, said they shouldn’t sacrifice a division senselessly. And it was a
show of disrespect. A show of disobedience.”

His stomach feels like lead and he regrets asking. Regrets pushing this. Even if it was selfish to
keep living in ignorance, he wishes he could. If only so this wasn’t real. If this wasn’t the truth that
was painted. But he forces himself to listen, his eyes locked onto the scar that has defined so much
of them both.

“I… I had thought it was the general I had to fight. It was his plan I criticized so it made sense to
me. But we were in the Fire Lord’s council room. And it was a plan of action he’d already
approved,” He takes a long, deep breath and he does what he did when he’d first joined them. He
tries to shrink within himself and this time, it breaks Sokka’s heart. Or what’s left of it. “I was
supposed to fight my father. But I refused to even stand. He saw this as a lack of honor and he… he
left the scar as punishment and banished me.”

Sokka can feel his chest heave and the burning in his eyes but that’s all. His mind feels like cotton
and he can hardly even form thoughts, let alone words. The strength it takes to do so is strength he
hadn’t known he had. “You said you’d been at sea for three years. Is that why?”

“Yes. The only way I could return to the Fire Nation was to capture the Avatar and only then
would my honor be restored.” He chuckles lowly, shaking his head. “It was bullshit but it was all I
had. I know better now.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He can’t help but ask. “All this time… I figured you were some
selfish prince but that wasn’t true. Not entirely. I can’t believe I never saw that. Never noticed. I
just assumed you were some angry jerk and fuck, I hated you at first. You know that? I thought
you were a conceited asshole who… who cursed me with the soulmarks or something. Spirits, I’m
so sorry. I’m so sorry I was so selfish and I’m so sorry your dad is the fucking worst. And I’m so
sorry you ever had to go through that. You were… holy shit, you were younger than Aang. Zuko,
I’m so sor—”

There are soft hands on his face and gentle if chapped lips against his. He tastes jasmine and it
calms him, slowing his thoughts until they move like molasses. There’s a moment where he thinks
of pushing away but he can’t find it within himself to do so. So he does the next best thing and
holds on tight, reminds himself that this is real, that Zuko is alright right now. He’s safe now.

When he feels like he’s not going to ramble on anymore, Zuko pulls away. Rests his forehead
against his with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, I needed you to calm down but I know you’re
not…”

“It’s alright,” He mumbles, forcing himself to let go when the prince pulls away.

“Now that you’re breathing again,” He teases but Sokka would disagree with that. He doesn’t think
he’ll ever breathe again. “You have nothing to apologize for. I was everything you thought I was.
But I’ve changed. And I’ll probably continue to change. I’m not perfect, I never was. Everything
I’ve done, all the people I’ve hurt, that was me. I refuse to pretend that was my father. But I’m
trying to move forward. To fix what I’ve done.”

It’s a familiar statement but this time it feels more concrete. Maybe that’s just because Zuko is
more certain with himself now. And spirits, it’s a good look on him. The lack of oxygen is the only
reason he says what he says, he tells himself. “I like who you’ve become.”

Zuko snickers even as he blushes. “Well, you played a part in who I am today, so thanks goes to
you for that.”

Sokka stays where he is, even if it’s a challenge, and he looks off to where Zuko’s looking. Hopes
it’ll provide him the distraction he needs. And yeah, looking up at the moon serves as one. He
remembers what Yue had said what felt like a lifetime ago. “You’re looking at my first girlfriend.”

It’s almost impressive that Zuko only tilts his head, looking closer out the window. “I’m sorry,
what?”

“She turned into the moon,” He gestures. “Oddly enough, she always liked you.”

He slowly nods and Sokka tries not to laugh, keeping his expression deadpan. “Right. The moon
likes me.”

“Well,” He drawls out. “Your soulmate’s ex girlfriend, the moon, likes you.”

“The moon likes me.” Zuko just repeats before bursting into laughter, unable to say it with a
straight face. Sokka finally joins him, fully realizing the incredulous situation.
 the parts of old plays
Chapter Summary

Ember Island but make it sexually and emotionally charged.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Second-guessing himself was his innate nature at this point. He knew that the first time they scaled
down the side of the mountain, carefully falling to the temples. Zuko finds that persistent voice in
the back of his head just a little bit quieter the second time around. Finds that it’s been like that
since just last evening, his lips still tingling.

The Western Air Temple, while still so very new, feels an awful lot like home as they finally reach
it. Or maybe, he ponders as he watches the odd group he’s found himself in, it’s the people. It’s a
novel experience, just watching all of them be so unabashedly open.

Everyone embraces their clearly dearly missed loved ones in a way he can’t help but feel the
slightest bit envious of. It’s ridiculous, Zuko knows that, but it doesn’t stop the feeling from
making itself home in his chest.

It’s curbed, to his surprise, by Katara offering what he can only see as an olive branch in the form
of a small, proud smile. He doesn’t quite know how to take it and when he accidentally meets
familiar glacier eyes, he’s rewarded with the same sort of smile.

He finally decides to take it as reassurance that he’s doing good for once, especially when Toph
worms her way to his side just to deliver a sharp hit against his arm. The reluctant smile and her
flushed face almost make the new bruise worth it.

After everything that had occurred, Zuko tried not to think much about his uncle, especially after
the failed invasion. It hurt, worrying about how he was doing so out of reach and the two of them
still so disconnected. But at this very moment, the thought didn’t hurt. He’d like to think Iroh
would be proud of him for this, proud of the person he’s becoming.

The feeling of belonging, still foreign to him, settles in further when the sky begins to darken and
Katara so easily asks him to help her with dinner. It’s domestic in a way he’s only ever felt with
them and he can’t lie and say he doesn’t like it. Not when he’s trusted with such little things and
offered delicate smiles from the others.

And when Hakoda comes over, the man he hadn’t exactly been avoiding but certainly being
careful not to be around, holding out his cup of tea and asking if Zuko can heat it back up,
whatever invisible tension in him seeps out just like that.

“Thanks, kid,” His soulmate’s father beams and oh, that’s where Sokka gets his smile.

Calling upon skills he’d only picked up under a lie, he bows his head and accepts the thanks
gratuitously. He tries to convey just how much he respects the man that is such a crucial fixture in
Sokka’s life. It earns him a small laugh and he counts it as a success.
Dinner is finally served with soft smiles and warm hands. It’s just a simple broth, nothing too
elegant or fancy, but anything is better than the mush that the prison had offered. It’s a sentiment
all of the recently returned members of the group seem to share. It’s only due to etiquette classes
attended a lifetime ago that he doesn’t devour it as more than half the others do.

“That’s the best meal I’ve had in weeks, Katara,” Hakoda remarks after three hearty bowls.

Bato snickers from his place next to the chief, “Like you tasted anything with how quick you ate it.
You’d think you’d have better home training!”

Zuko marvels at the ease of conversation, of how different this would be as a setting with his own
family. He shivers at the mere thought of it, instead choosing to distract himself by going around
and collecting the dishes once everyone seems finished. Katara stands to help him and they both
watch the older men bicker in a new, comfortable silence.

Had it been an ordinary night, Zuko figures they all would’ve said goodnight already. Instead, it’s
spent by the fire he keeps a steady eye on and war stories being traded. He carefully keeps his
mouth shut in that regard.

They all get their chance to give their own tales, one which the older Southern Water Tribesmen
take with vigor. Bato and Hakoda share their impressive feats, ones he hadn’t thought capable of
only a few ships and a handful of men. And it’s clear they’ve officially won Toph over when she
begins to marvel at every increasingly violent word.

He especially doesn’t speak when Suki talks about how the Kyoshi Warriors went down fighting.
It’s with such passion and ferocity that he worries, if only briefly, of her and Azula ever properly
meeting. He can already foresee the bloodshed, be it from the other or caused together.

When Aang mentions how they met the King of Omashu, he manages to successfully prevent any
obvious worry to show. He’s not quite sure how to feel about King Bumi by the end of it, the man
an obvious if not very concerning genius.

It’s after Katara’s lighthearted story of a secret dance party for Fire Nation kids that they turn to
him. The three that he’d spent months tracking at least look a little hesitant but it doesn’t stop their
inquisitive gaze. He cringes in on himself, dread keeping his tongue heavy.

“What about you, son?” Bato asks with a far too kind smile to be aimed at him.

He swallows thickly, trying to think of something that won’t spark old tensions. Or really, of
anything that didn’t involve him struggling to survive in the process. He catches Sokka’s eyes and
he’s offered a small smile that seems to calm that building inferno of anxiety in his chest.

It’s only when he moves his attention to Aang that it comes to him. The younger boy gives him a
subtle thumbs up and he thinks back to a question he never did answer. “You ever hear of the Blue
Spirit?”

Katara and Sokka turn to each other, recognition flashing behind both their eyes. It’s more than a
little surprising that Aang had never revealed his secret. But Toph shakes her head, imploring him
to continue.
“It’s not a prison break but it’s… something good I did in the war. The intentions weren’t there, not
at first. But I saved Aang from the Yuyan Archers and Zhao,” He shrugs, never having been one
for storytelling.

Aang interjects with a lightly teasing grin. “I returned the favor and helped him get away when an
arrow knocked him out!”

“Yeah,” He trails off, wincing when he remembers what followed when he gained consciousness.
“Sorry again, for, you know, attacking you. The Blue Spirit also freed Appa, though.”

At this, the avatar’s eyes light up and it’s only with Katara’s hand on his shoulder that he doesn’t
shoot up into the air. “That was you?!”

He nods, chancing a look at the boy he’d done it for. It seems he isn’t the only one conflicted, both
reminded of days they didn’t dare bring up, especially around others. It was an oddly open secret,
really. “That’s about it when it comes to war-related things.”

“You’ll have to tell us non-war related ones another time then.” Hakoda warmly suggests, making
him think that maybe he chose the right thing to mention.

Going back to watching the fire and carefully listening in to the conversations, Zuko lets the rare
moment of peace wash over him. There’s not been many nights like this for him. Not as Zuko, at
least. The common factor, he finds, are the others. Especially the boy who turns to him every so
often with gently searching eyes.

It’s not even an hour later when the tone has turned more somber than he thought it would’ve, that
Suki asks what has surely been on all of their minds. “What happens now?”

Aang seems to deflate within himself, looking off into the deep canal. “Avatar Roku said I have
until the end of the summer to master all the elements. The same comet Fire Lord Sozin used to…
to wipe out my people is coming again.”

A hush falls over them before Bato pats his chief’s back and smiles at the young Airbender. “That
gives us some time to get forces together. We won’t let the Fire Nation do something like that ever
again.”

Then, Zuko remembers a crucial detail Azula had uncovered. “You should be prepared for what
Ozai has planned, then.”

Katara turns to him sharply, eyes narrowed with a hardness he hadn’t seen since those first couple
of days with them. “What exactly is he planning?”

“He’s going to harness its power and take the Earth Kingdom, wiping out whatever rebellions
remain. And then he plans to announce himself as the Phoenix King.” He paraphrases all of what
Azula had said, watching as everyone grows a little pale at the new information.

If he thought a hush had fallen over earlier, now it’s like a death rattle. No one dares to say
anything for the longest moment. Zuko does the best he can possibly do and tries not to show just
how uncomfortable it makes him feel.

Sokka finally comes to his rescue with a deep and haunted sigh. “Sadly, that was one of the worst-
case scenarios we were working with. It’s not fucking good, that’s for certain. But not all that
surprising.”

“Apparently the Fire Lord really is just that crazy,” Toph snorts, effectively cutting through the
remaining tension.

He can’t disagree with the notion. Zuko always knew his father wasn’t exactly the most normal
person, knew he held power just a little too high in regard. Ozai always had been cruel but there
had been a calculating aspect behind it. Now, even that has started to fall away as his obsession
grows. Not for the first time, he worries about his family tree and the lack of sanity in it to be
found.

When daybreak hits, they all know what it means. They’d already pushed this back as much as
they could, taking a great risk at even sleeping in the temple. It’s quiet as breakfast is quickly put
together and eaten.

Finally, the time comes. And he watches as Hakoda embraces his children, kissing them both on
the top of their heads in a way he remembers his mom doing. The two older men wish them luck,
making promises to gather as many people as they can.

Much to his surprise, Bato pats him on the back before they leave. Hakoda even smiles at him,
wishing him well. It’s those two gestures that have Sokka looking at him with pride, something
that has his heart twisting in an oh-so-familiar way.

Perhaps it’s that feeling’s fault that he rests his hand against Sokka’s shoulder as they watch the
men take off. It’s a move he hadn’t thought too much about, acting in an instinct that should be at
least partially dormant. He can’t find it within himself to be too angry at it, though. Especially not
when Sokka lays his own, more calloused palm over his.

“Well, any ideas for where we should hide out these next few weeks?” Katara asks after clearing
her throat of any lingering emotions.

They all shrug but Zuko frowns in thought. There aren't many places left to safely hide, not for
them. But one place comes to mind that he knows for a fact will not be searched. Be it because
Ozai hasn’t stepped foot there in years or because Azula will somehow find out they’re there and
make sure it’s protected.

“Actually, I might have one.” He voices, shoulders sinking. His last visit there hadn’t exactly been
too awful but it’s still a place he hoped he wouldn’t have to see so soon. “There’s the royal family’s
vacation home. No one has been there for years and they wouldn’t even think to look for us there.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Sokka says, beaming at his suggestion and he feels his face warm despite
the cool breeze.

“Good thinkin’ there, Sparky!” Toph compliments, pulling him away from the butterflies in his
stomach, punching his shoulder in what he’s learned is her affection.

He rubs the spot with a grimace. “I figured it was better than nothing.”

“Can you point to the place on a map?” Katara questions, pulling one out of their rucksacks. He
nods, pinpointing the island easily.

Sokka hums, looking closely with a hand on his hip. “It’s in the Fire Nation but we should be fine
if we’re careful. Any objections to Ember Island?”
“Nope, a vacation home sounds amazing right about now,” Suki comments lightly as everyone else
agrees.

Zuko doesn't exactly share the same sentiment but he was right earlier. It’s better than nothing and
there’s not any better options. He just sighs as they all climb into Appa’s saddle, finding himself
slotted between Toph and his own soulmate. He spends the journey there mentally preparing
himself.

He did not mentally prepare enough.

That’s his first and only thought when they arrive. The villa is just as large as it’s always been and
if this had been his first time here, he might’ve even called the beach nearby nice. But it’s not.

Zuko thought he had already adjusted to how strange his life could be. But seeing them in the only
place his family had ever been happy was by far the strangest moment to date. It was like some
invisible line was crossed and he wasn’t quite sure whether or not that was a good thing.

It didn’t help that the old family portraits were still up, his young and unscarred face on display for
them all to see. For once, the spirits seemed to smile down at him, for no one commented on it.
The most that happened was Sokka leveling him with a look that was far too seeing.

He tried not to react too much to it. He got settled in, being the one assigned to the Fire Lord’s
chambers. Not surprising but not exactly preferred either. He wondered whether or not he should
mention that Sokka’s room was typically his.

Probably not, that might just make things weird. Or, well, weirder than they already were. There
were no more glares thrown his way, no matter how deserving they had been. They’d even begun a
path to healing, much to his surprise. He never suspected he would get that chance, not after
everything he’s done.

It’s nice but this new type of distance between them has him choking back words and rethinking
the ones he does end up saying around the other boy. Always wondering when he’s going to end up
misstepping and ruining this fragile peace between them.

The ghost of their past only joins the ones found in the villa and it’s… it’s a lot to process. So he
distracts, reminds himself of the deadline they have, and puts as much energy as he possibly can
into teaching Aang firebending.

The next few days go very much like this. He wakes up, helps Katara get breakfast ready if Aang
doesn’t, washes them with her too, and dedicates the next three to four hours to firebending.

Eventually, lunch rolls around, and he lets the younger boy take a three-hour break. And then it’s
back for another two-hour practice before they both help Katara with dinner.

The downtime between dinner and bed is spent with Toph and Suki, finding that he enjoys their
presence far more than he ever thought he would. And on one occasion, in a slightly uncomfortable
but nice silence with Sokka.

And then it starts all over again.

When the sixth day rolls around, he finds a very reluctant Aang who barely even manages to get
out of bed. They begin easy enough, focusing on breathing practices. It’s after the first few
positions that Katara and Sokka come out to watch as they sometimes do. And it’s only a few more
movements after that when Aang falls to the ground with an exhausted groan.

“Can't we just take a break? Just for today? I can't even feel my limbs!” He protests as Katara
comes to his side with the softest smile Zuko’s ever seen her wear.

“The two of you have been working so hard,” She reasons on her soulmate’s behalf. “A break
wouldn’t be a bad idea, for the both of you.”

Distantly, he remembers his own firebending lessons. The ones within the walls of a palace, not
the ones on a ship. His teachers had been relentless, constantly pushing him more than necessary.
Not wanting to repeat history, for once , Zuko sighs and agrees to it. “Just for today! And we’ll
make it up tomorrow with an extra hour!”

Aang shoots up at that, looking at him like he just promised world peace. “Thank you so much,
Sifu Hotman!”

He kind of wants to take it back at that but he doesn’t. “Just go before I change my mind!” Any bite
in his tone is lost at Aang’s appreciative face.

The younger boy listens, at least. He nods and takes Katara’s hand, the two of them giggling as
they take off. He raises a brow at that, not entirely sure he wants to know what they’re about to get
up to.

“Those two are nauseating, am I right?” Sokka calls out, nearly giving him a heart attack. He’d
almost forgotten he was there.

He thinks over the rhetorical question, wondering if he should actually answer it. In the end, he
shrugs his shoulders. He doesn’t point out that they’re soulmates, that they’re in love, that it’s
expected from them.

(He doesn’t point out that at one point, a lifetime ago, the same could’ve been said for them.
Doesn’t even acknowledge it himself.)

“Only when it disrupts what I had planned,” He settles on with a huff. He steps away from the
middle of the courtyard, plopping down on the edge of the fountain. “Do you have anything to do
today?”

Sokka gets closer and he ignores the way each step makes his chest feel lighter. “Not really. Hey,
if you’ve got nothing going on, wanna spar? We haven’t really done that in a while.”

They hadn’t sparred since before the Boiling Rock and it was less a spar and more of an actual
fight. At least a one-sided one. The time before that was even longer, back when they hid safely in
the walls of a city now overrun.

The familiarity of it has the corner of his lips rising. So, Zuko nods. “Just give me a minute to get
my swords.”

“I’ll get my stuff too!” He hesitates before smiling, something Zuko tries not to read into too
much.

They agree to meet back in the courtyard and Zuko can feel the adrenaline already building in his
veins. The last time they did this, he’d been so on edge, focused solely on defending against
Sokka’s attacks to really give it his all. And with how much Sokka has gotten at dueling, he’ll
actually get to do that.

Only a few minutes later, they reconvene with their respective weapons. Sokka offers the cockiest
grin he’s possibly ever seen the boy wear. “You sure you wanna do this, Princess?”

Which, okay, not off to the best start. Zuko swallows thickly, urging, practically demanding those
pesky butterflies to get back into their cage. He gathers as much composure as he can and nods,
throwing out his own smirk like a challenge. “Are you?”

Blue eyes take him in at that, so capable at seeing straight through him and every emotion he might
ever feel. “Oh, I’m sure.”

They go through the motions, both bowing deeply and then waiting to see who strikes out first.
Zuko watches him, hardly blinking, able to spot the momentary tense in the other boy’s body. It’s
enough of a warning that by the time he’s risen both his dao blades in a makeshift shield, Sokka’s
own is coming down and clanking against his.

With practiced ease, Zuko jumps back, barely giving Sokka time to steady himself before he’s
rushing forward. Not one to go down so easily, Sokka twists out of reach, leg sweeping out and
almost knocking him to the ground.

And so it goes. They fight a little too similar, a little too well together. Even if they hadn’t sparred
before, he knows this dance would be a familiar one. This is different from last time, he knows that
instantly. There’s no hidden aggression, an ease present that hadn’t existed then. No dangerously
charged resentment either.

It’s a shame, really, that he hadn’t predicted just how quickly his breath would catch as soon as he
fell back against the stone ground. Not for the fall, he’s barely even phased by that and far too
ready to jump back to his feet. But by the sight he’s faced with. Of Sokka, standing over him in the
soft light of morning, out of breath and sweat dripping from his brow. And still wearing that
fucking grin.

His lungs remember their sole purpose and he almost wishes that resentment was there. It would
help with this . There’s no hope of capturing those butterflies this time.

Apparently, he’s taken too long to function again because Sokka drops his blade, reaching forward
with a frown. “You okay?”

He nods, mouth so very dry. “Yeah, just didn’t take the fall like I thought I would.” Lie .

“You wanna call it even for now?” He offers in all his goodness, helping Zuko up even as his palm
feels electrified from the other boy’s.

“You won,” He corrects fairly with a shake of his head. “Think Aang was onto something about
overworking ourselves these past few days, though.” Another lie .

He throws his head back, only seeming softer in the light for it. The white petals on the left side of
his face don’t seem nearly as harsh like this. “I can’t believe it, you’re actually thinking about
taking a break?! Who would’ve thought, old polar-dogs do learn new tricks!”

Unable to prevent himself from flushing, he instead climbs to his feet and turns away. “Yeah, yeah.
Don’t get so excited over it. I’ll just stick to breathing practices for today. Care to join me?”

Sokka isn’t the only one surprised at the offer but he doesn’t take it back. “It’s just mediating
really, right?”

“For you, it would be.” He confirms easily.

The Water Tribe boy sighs before he nods with only a smidgen of reluctance. “Not really great at
that mediating junk but why not?”

He lasts all of half an hour, having fidgeted and been unable to keep still even a little bit. Spirits, he
hadn’t even been able to keep quiet that long. Despite the pitiful attempt, Zuko couldn’t help but
smile at him, finally accepting that those winged beasts had made a home in his stomach again.
That is, if they ever actually moved out to begin with.

At dinner, he finds out that Suki and Toph had gone exploring in the small town nearby. They
mention the many vendors they’d found there and Suki even presents a poster that quickly gains
everyone’s interest.

“ The Boy in the Iceberg! A new tale from the acclaimed playwright Puon Tim that depicts the
Avatar’s journey from the icy South Pole all the way to the heart of Ba Sing Se! ” Suki reads out,
grinning widely. “ Brought to you by the Ember Island Players. ”

On instinct, Zuko groans, gaining their attention. Horrible set designs, poorly put together
costumes, and even worse acting immediately begins to plague his mind. “My mother used to take
us to see them, they butcher any script they’re given!”

Sokka snickers, even though he wears such a soft expression, especially for one dedicated to him.
“Theatre nerd.”

He frowns at that, scowling with no real heat. “I just like good production and quality.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” He teases further before turning to his sister and the avatar.
“We should go see it! Aang needs more than just one break and this is exactly the type of low-
stress fun we need!”

At that, no one needs further convincing. And as loath as Zuko is to admit it, he too is quite curious
about the play. Even if it means enduring the Ember Island Players.

The next day, Zuko makes Aang work twice as hard to make up for the day before and the night
they have off to see the play. He’s fairly certain he bears witness to the first time the boy
contemplates murder. Luckily, Aang doesn’t actually go through with it, just huffs a bit more than
usual and focuses on the flames he’s getting better control of.

They manage to get seats in the nosebleeds, something Toph gripes about for all of five minutes.
Between the two rows, Zuko somehow ends up seated in the back with Sokka. And no one else.

When the play begins, it serves as a wonderful distraction from the body heat against his side. It
draws all their attention to it, the opening scene being that of Sokka and Katara on a boat.

Or, rather versions of the two. Actor Sokka’s hair is standing up, nearly half the size of him. And
the delicate white petals around his eye is instead just a white eyepatch. Katara’s actor is somehow
worse, her outfit tight and revealing, face full of heavy makeup.

Still, Sokka excitedly gestures to the actors on stage, shaking Katara’s shoulder. That excitement
quickly dies when his actor only makes poor jokes related to being hungry and Katara actually
pouts at how her own character cries and makes speeches about hope.

And then Aang is introduced. The actor bursts from an iceberg, glowing and immediately
professing his love for Katara’s actor. She cries and the two somehow end up engaged. Both
parties, the real ones, flush and avoid each other’s eyes.

It’s only when his own character comes onto the stage with an Iroh actor that he realizes just why
this maybe wouldn’t have been a good idea. That’s proven correct when his actor snarls and curses
at his uncle’s character, degrading him before storming away with a rage that’s just a little too
accurate from back then.

“I already hate this,” He grumbles, sitting further into his seat.

Sokka just rolls his eyes, patting his arm. “You weren’t that bad! And so far neither is the play, just
maybe a little dramatized!”

“A little?” He snorts,

And then, Zuko is again proven right as his actor jumps onto the stage where fake igloos are set up
and demands the avatar to come forward. Instead, Sokka’s actor steps forward, dramatically
pointing between his scar and his own white eyepatch.

“OH NO! You’re not food!” Sokka’s actor exclaims, falling to the ground in tears.

Zuko’s actor stomps on the ground, looking furious. “You’re my other half?! I HATE YOU!”

The body next to him winces and neither of them dares to look at the other. Zuko wonders how
hard he has to pray to the spirits to be able to disappear then and there.

“Okay, so it’s already off to a bad start,” Sokka eventually says, voice strained. “But maybe it’ll
get better?”

He just shakes his head, sighing as he watches Momo get reduced to a flying rabbit-monkey
puppet. “I somehow doubt it will.”

Some of the stories told that night around the campfire come to life. None of it is actually accurate,
only a fraction of truth in each scene. Every insult his actor throws at his uncle or Sokka’s
character has him wincing and wanting to curl up and die a little bit more. But Sokka just pats his
knee and it’s enough for him to stop praying to Agni himself to strike him down.

Much to his relief, when the Blue Spirit does show up to save Aang, it appears that his secret
identity is left intact. He knows, reasonably, there’s no way for anyone to know unless he’s told
them. But then again, much of this play has featured moments no one should’ve known about. It
would be scary if it weren’t so poorly written and acted.

At some point, an actor shows up on stage ranting about freedom from the Fire Nation, his wig
ridiculously wild and huge, and a piece of wheat in his mouth. Something about it rings familiar
and it’s only when he introduces himself as Jet with a wink does it hit him.

It’s been such a long time since that ferry ride but Zuko still immediately wants to die. Of course, it
was just his luck that Jet knew them, and he doesn’t think he’s ever prayed this hard before. He
really, really hopes that somehow him meeting Jet will be left out.

Feeling vaguely sick, he watches as Jet’s character tries to hit on Katara, only for Aang’s actress to
get into a fight with him. Real Katara just laughs at the sight even as Aang flushed a dangerous red.
At the end of the scene, Sokka’s actor kicks Jet’s with a laugh, proclaiming that the food they had
at his camp was awful anyways.

Jet’s character looks up from the ball he’s curled up in and laughs. “You’ll regret saying that! Our
food tastes like Freedom!”

And for some reason, Zuko feels like that’s foreshadowing. He winces, glancing at Sokka from the
corner of his eye as the scene changes to them flying on Appa. He wonders what the protocol is
here. As it is, he adjusts further in his seat and goes back to watching this awful play.

Sokka gives him a questioning look but he gives a smile he hopes is placating. He doesn’t think it
is if the worry that grows in gentle blue eyes is anything to go by.

The Northern Water Tribe is set up and Zuko isn’t quite sure how to feel about what's shown.
Sokka and Yue dramatically fall in love on stage. Sokka’s character even yells out, “Forget that
jerk! I love you, Princess Yue! Almost as much as I love meat!”

Actual Sokka winces but keeps his eyes locked on stage, even tearing up as Yue becomes the
moon. “Okay, yeah, this play sucks! None of that happened and Princess Yue’s sacrifice was so
much more important than what they played it off as!”

“Told you Ember Island Players suck,” Zuko lightly teases, counting it as a win as the boy next to
him snorts and settles back down.

“You’re still a theatre nerd, you being right doesn’t change anything!” Sokka quips, bumping his
shoulder.

“It’s still called having taste.” He defends with a smile.

Luckily, intermission happens after Aang’s actress steps on toy Fire Nation ships and stops the
invasion. They all escape their seats, hiding away on a staircase while most everyone complains
about their depiction. Sokka’s particularly vocal, telling them all of the supposedly much better
jokes his actor could have used.

Toph eventually interrupts him, shaking her head. “You guys, you have to accept what they’re
showing is the real you! It’s hard to accept but it’s a real growing moment, you know? And, plus, I
personally am delighted over it.” She can’t even keep a straight face, giggling by the end of it.
“We’ll just wait to see who they cast as you, then,” Suki proposes, leaning against the staircase
railing.

Katara nods with a laugh. “They certainly have made interesting choices with casting.”

“I think you’re misusing the word interesting for awful,” Zuko corrects, cringing at some of the
people they’d used and how far off base it’s been.

She turns to him, looking him up and down before shrugging. “I don’t know, I think yours was
pretty spot on, Zuko!”

He blandly stares at her for that, even as she and her brother begin to laugh like hyena-coyotes.
Sokka has the nerve to nudge him, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Come on, you have to admit
that your character is the most accurate one!”

He doesn’t voice his particularly violent thoughts but it’s clear Sokka gets the message as he dials
back the laughing and offers a softer smile as a peace treaty.

Intermission doesn’t last nearly long enough and they soon find themselves back in the same seats
from before. This time, Sokka sits a little closer to him, their knees knocking into the others and
shoulders brushing. Neither comment on it and neither move away.

They finally see who they cast as Toph. And Zuko figures that maybe, just for the pure delight that
lights up the younger girl’s face at a big buff man playing her, that coming tonight was worth it.
Even if his ears feel like they’re bleeding when her actor screams in order to “look” at everyone.

The play continues and it shows faces Zuko hasn’t thought about in a long time. It goes over his
journey alone, which is still unnerving in how they know about it. And when it shows Zuko
meeting a small boy and his parents, he feels his heart ache all over again.

As per usual, the play leaves out the most important details and makes a joke about everything. So
it’s no surprise that it doesn’t show just how much Sela managed to affect him. Both her advice
and then her casting him away for who he truly was. They just have her act as an overprotective,
angry, screaming mother.

It’s just another thing the play gets wrong.

It is odd, seeing the amount of times the group encounters and fights Azula. It’s no wonder they
didn’t fully believe him when he said she was on their side. Of course, while the costume is
ridiculous, they actually pay respect to her character. Probably out of fear of Azula finding out
about the play and killing the playwright for it. Which, truthfully, that doesn’t sound like an
entirely bad idea.

The set changes to that of a ferry and it’s just as he feared. Actor Zuko and Iroh complain about
being hungry when Jet’s actor pops up out of nowhere. “Fight with me for Freedom and I can get
you all the food you want!”

“Free me from this fat old man and you’ve got a deal!” His actor exclaims, jumping up to shake
Jet’s hand.
The group turns to him and he curls further in his seat, mumbling. “Guess it was the same Jet
then.”

“You knew Jet?!” Aang gasps, eyes wide and fully swirling in his seat. “Can’t say I liked the guy
but what a small world!”

“Yeah,” He mumbles even quieter. “Small world.”

The two actors fight in over-the-top ways and steal the food along with nearly everything else in
the kitchen. Jet’s actor winks and makes a comment about getting rich from selling what they can’t
eat.

And before they can get the food to Iroh’s character, Jet pulls his actor close with a smirk. “Gotta
say, Lee, you’re about as bad as me!”

Zuko barely resists slamming his head into the back of the first row. He groans, pinching the
bridge of his nose as his character swoons and gets even closer.

Sokka audibly chokes as it becomes very clear what’s happening on stage. “Wait, what?! You and
Jet…!”

He so desperately wishes his prayers had gone answered earlier. Maybe then he wouldn’t be in this
situation then. “Uh, kind of?”

It doesn’t help that the Zuko actor pulls away from the other actor, loudly announcing, “We should
take this somewhere private!”

Before the others can even ask, he’s quick to interject. “ That did not happen! We kissed and the
next time I saw him, he was attacking me and then getting arrested.”

This is proven true by the play showing a weakly inspired version of what happened on stage. And
luckily, while the ones who met Jet look weirded out, that’s all. He risks a glance at Sokka and
fortunately, he doesn’t seem too upset. Like the others, just weirded out. But then he notices just
how tense his jaw is and rethinks that.

The part that he’s been bracing himself for finally shows. Sokka and he bump into each other on
stage and it doesn’t take long for his character to declare how of course he’s a traitor now and asks
Sokka’s on a date. Sokka’s character starts laughing about free food and agrees.

For the first time, he’s glad for how poorly they show the truth. It doesn’t dedicate much stage
time to their relationship in Ba Sing Se, either. There’s not even an embarrassing love confession
like the ones Aang and Katara’s characters give every other scene.

Then there’s the part where a prop rock falls over Jet and he frowns. “Did Jet just die?”

Sokka shrugs, purposefully avoiding his gaze as he answers. “Maybe? There was a lot going on
when it happened. He certainly didn’t escape uninjured.”

Unsure of how to process that at this moment, he pushes it to the back of his mind. It’s not like he
even knew the other boy that well to begin with. “Right.”
 It doesn’t take long for the moment they all dread to come up. He has to watch as his actor pushes
Iroh’s and laughs at Sokka’s for believing him the whole time. And then he has to watch as Aang’s
actress dies and Katara’s actress weeps over the body.

The second intermission begins after that and the others get up. Zuko grabs Sokka’s wrist before
he can and the two of them stay seated until their part of the nosebleed section is cleared out.

Gathering up the courage, Zuko turns fully to the boy next to him. “That…”

“I know,” He interrupts firmly but not harshly. He meets his eyes and there’s a hardness there that
only furthers the guilt. “We don’t need to talk about it. Not when you’ve worked to atone for what
happened.”

“Just,” He worries at his lip, a habit he thought he outgrew but evidently not. He sighs deeply
before gathering the best words he can. “What happened that day, it wasn’t because I was… I was
plotting against you. It was all real to me and I should’ve gone with you all. It might not mean
much at this point but I am sorry. For everything.”

He watches, so very carefully, as Sokka takes his hand like it’s the most delicate thing he’s ever
held. Commits it to memory as Sokka brings his knuckles to his lips and pressed a soft kiss against
one of the first scatterings of purple petals against his skin. And then he looks up and those eyes
aren’t glaciers anymore. They’re melted, soft and warm like the oceans found in the Fire Nation,
like the eyes that followed him in Ba Sing Se.

“Zuko,” He doesn’t think he’s ever heard someone say his name so softly before, and much to his
embarrassment, it brings a sting to his eyes as tears threaten to spill. “I…” Sokka takes a moment to
continue, breaking out into a surprised smile. “I forgive you. But thank you, for apologizing. For
doing what you’re doing now.”

He just nods, swallowing past the knot of butterfly wings in his throat.

By the time the second intermission ends and everyone has found their seat again, Zuko realizes
Sokka hasn’t let go of his hand. And he doesn’t, even as the play comes to an end with Ozai
defeating Aang and all of them dying in their final battles.

They’re the only ones not cheering as the last curtain closes. And they make the trek back to the
villa, Zuko once again reminding them that he said their plays sucked. This time, they all agree.

It isn’t until they go their separate ways for bed that Sokka lets go of his hand. And he can’t even
begin to explain the inferno that has been ignited where his heart should be. When he falls asleep,
it’s to the thought of warm beaches and purple-blue petals.

Chapter End Notes

Yeah, um, hi, it's been over ten months since the last update. But I have returned! See,
I always said I'd finish this lmao. But for real, I am so very sorry. So much happened
and I was just not in a place to write at all. I feel like I did already with this chapter but
please be patient with me as I get back into writing these two dorks! And let me know
how you liked this very gratuitous and self-indulgent chapter.
Follow me on Tumblr at garnetaches!
Also, if you're interested in my questionable taste in music, I put together an official
playlist for this story. I'll probably continue to add to it!
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/27vkkVmlatG10rHzqdiqzq?si=ac36d29f283c4b61
 getting lost in a fiery gaze
Chapter Summary

The last days of their peace come and go. There's an end of a war to get ready for.

Chapter Notes

Some sexual content. If you want to skip it, it's towards the end when Sokka asks "is
this okay?" until the next section.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Zuko remembers the dreamlike quality that had filled his senses back in Ba Sing Se. It had been
almost perfect but the harsh way it clashed with reality stopped it from being what he truly wanted.
And that restlessness that had hidden beneath his skin had been the undoing of it all.

Now, there was nothing that clashed with reality and such restlessness was often put to rest after a
good sparring match or another training session. Now, when his heart squeezed itself or decided to
melt, there was no dreamlike film over it that he could blame.

Even when he’d been unable to see the cause for all his heart’s problems, confined to the walls of a
palace, he’d found himself shoving down fondness and other such unnamable feelings. Suddenly
having contact again and actually working to be better with each other didn’t help those feelings.
Not one bit. Not even the hesitance between them could.

It meant two things. One, his sessions with Aang were growing longer and more intense as a way
to distract himself. And two, it meant Aang was thoroughly exhausted, which meant he needed to
find a new outlet before the Avatar’s soulmate took notice of the dark eye bags as well and decided
to do something about it.

Knowing what he did about Katara, her solution to the problem would likely end up being severely
painful on his end.

As if Agni was listening in and deciding to worsen Zuko’s life, the source of his problems rounded
the corner and appeared before his eyes. And of course, he just had to smile so sweetly.

He really was cursed.

“Zuko!” Sokka called, the excitement accompanied with his name still fairly new. Part of him
wondered how long it would last and the other couldn’t help but wish it would stop feeding that
growing flame in his chest less it consumes him from the inside out.

“Hey, Sokka,” He tries to say in return, the words far too stilted and awkward to be relaxed as he
wished. “I thought you'd still be sparring with Suki.”

He waves that off with a soft laugh that has Zuko swallowing thickly. “Psh, that was like an hour
ago. Are you and Aang done already?”

Said boy had been about to pass outstanding up and when Zuko decided he owed him a bit of
mercy, he hadn’t even done the over-the-top bow he seemed so insistent to do when they parted.
“Yes, he looked like he needed a rest.”

“You have been pushing him lately,” Sokka trails off with a nod before shaking himself back to
attention. “So, Katara sent me to find something for dinner. Want to come?”

“Into town?” He winces, not particularly wanting to deal with the staring or hushed whispers that
tended to follow his presence.

He’s met with a heavy eye roll and a snort. “No, we like to hunt when there’s a butcher's stall just
twenty minutes away.”

“That’s not the… fine, I’ll come. There should be some coins in the study if you need any.” He
offers, resigning himself for the public outing. He knew that he didn’t have to, that he’d be more
than allowed to curl up in some corner with his thoughts and breathing practices. But he also knew
that despite the hassle of leaving the villa, he’d prefer Sokka’s company. It was… nice.

Sokka just shakes his head with a throaty chuckle, turning on his heels and heading towards the
study. “I’ve got the coins for it but who knows, maybe we can find something to waste the Fire
Lord’s money on?”

“He always did hate flowers,” Zuko suggests after a beat, quietly patting himself on the back when
he’s awarded a proud smile.

“Well,” He begins with a crooked smile. “I think this place could benefit greatly with some fresh
flowers around, what about you?”

“Couldn’t agree more.”

They find the coins in a dish, dusty after being left out for the last few years. Besides the small
complaint from his water tribesman, there’s an easy quiet that’s only broken by Sokka hollering
goodbyes at his sister.

He pauses at the front door, grabbing a cloak from the coat rack and swinging it over Zuko’s
shoulders. He doesn’t stop there. He steps closer, close enough that Zuko could count the subtle
freckles or even petals if he were feeling particularly self torturous. He’s sure he doesn’t breathe as
the other man does the button, even when he takes a step back.

And at the incredulous look he can’t help but wear, or perhaps because of it, Sokka simply shrugs.
“You almost forgot it. Can’t have you being ambushed now, can we?”

Zuko gulps and nods. “Right.”

They linger, the unsaid domesticity heavy and comforting in a way Zuko wouldn’t be able to place.
And then Sokka slides the door open and gestures for him to go. “We should probably head out
before we catch the lunch crowd.”

Another nod and they’re out. Despite his earlier claim, they still manage to get there just in time for
the hustle and bustle of the afternoon. Which, on a somewhat remote island, isn’t all too bad. They
still stick close to each other, shoulders bumping together several times.

He’s careful in keeping his head down and no one calls him out for being the traitorous prince so
he figures it’s yet another safe outing. Sokka haggles with the shop vendor, rather poorly, before
they get everything Katara had requested.

And when they stumble across a boutique, Sokka makes good on his word and asks for the largest,
most expensive vase of flowers available. They’re handed a bundle that must have at least two
dozen bright red blooms, only a little bit of white peaking through.

The lady winks at them as she gleefully takes the three silver pieces she demanded. “That bouquet
is always popular with the newlyweds! Enjoy your stay and feel free to come again!”

Almost simultaneously, they flush and rush to correct her, only to find she’s moved onto her next
potential client. Zuko grumbles as he peeks over the mountain of red. “Old people never know
what they’re talking about.”

It shocks a laugh from his counterpart. “Careful there, Princey! Might summon your old ponytail
back talking like that!”

He scowls at the reminder and then knocks his shoulder against Sokka’s. “Careful with that prince
stuff, you never know if someone’s listening.”

“You’re just touchy about the ponytail,” Sokka hums lightly. “And that I know how to wear one
right.”

He huffs a deep breath, shaking his head. “It wasn’t about how it…! You know what? You’re
doing this on purpose. I’m not falling for it.”

“No fun. No fun at all.” He sighs, just about pouting, looking for all intents and purposes like
someone had just told him his boomerang broke.

He bumps his shoulder once more. “Let’s drop off the food and I can knock you on your ass when
we spar. That’ll be fun.”

“Oh, oh you wound me!” He gasps as dramatically as possible, freehand flying against his chest to
clutch an invisible necklace. “It’s on! You better get ready, you hear me?! I’m not holding back!
Get ready to weep, pretty boy!”

Zuko turns to him then, almost choking on his half breath. He hesitates, waits for Sokka to realize
his words, but nothing comes. All that does is Sokka stopping a few steps away, turning to him and
gesturing for him to catch up, and then shaking his head. He forces himself to breathe again, to not
think too much of it, to ignore just how loud his scar feels at that moment.

The red blooms had smelt overly sweet and citrusy. However, when he inhales deeply, it’s that
intimately familiar sea salt and those bittersweet wildflowers that he doubts will ever not cloud his
senses. For once, he welcomes it, let’s it welcome him home before he catches up with Sokka.

The good thing about staying where royalty once stayed is the luxuries not found elsewhere. They
actually had nice mattresses to sleep on, they didn’t have to bathe in a lake, and they didn’t have to
prepare their food outside over a fire anymore.

The first time Katara had seen the fully equipped kitchen, she had looked close to tears. She had
even happily mumbled away to herself about no more makeshift bowls and proper kitchen knives.
And while not much of a cook himself, Zuko couldn’t help but agree.

“Keep an eye on the pot and let me know when it starts to boil,” She orders lightly, seemingly
massaging the meat. He doesn’t question it, just as he never did his uncle’s way of preparing tea.
That sort of thing never failed to go over his head.

“Got it.” He dedicates himself to the task, staring at the pot of water like it has the answer to his
life’s problems.

She snorts softly but doesn’t comment. Not until he lets her know when it does indeed begin to boil
and she slides all the delicately chopped vegetables into the boiling water, careful of the splash.
“How was the trip to the village with Sokka?”

It’s an innocent enough question. But it still has him tense. “Um, it was alright. We got flowers.”

That much she already knew. She had helped them find a spot for it, after all. She nods and from
the corner of his good eye, he can see the traces of a smile in the corner of her lips. “Hopefully they
last for a while. Did you two do anything else?”

“No?” He frowns, trying to figure out what the test exactly is here. And then he remembers this
isn’t his sister, not even his uncle, he can just get straight to the point himself. “Why do you ask?”

She turns a bit more to face him, an eyebrow raised. He’d be more on edge if her eyes weren’t so
gentle, no trace of hidden agendas present. “You came back with flowers. I guess I just wanted to
know if it was a date.”

He’s suddenly very, very glad that it’s not him regulating the heat of the fire. That they’re inside
and not with the others. He doesn’t even want to know how red his face gets. “No! It was just an
outing to pick up the supplies. The flowers weren’t because of something like that!”

She hums, turning back to the countertop and sprinkling… something on the meat. He couldn’t
place it, never having made any effort to memorize spices. “I guess I just thought you two were
together already,” She says it with a smile, like it’s not something that sends his heart beating
faster. “Have you talked about it at all?”

“With Sokka?” He asks, already knowing the answer. At her nod, he sighs. “What’s there to talk
about? The fact he can stand being around me again is more than enough. I’m not inclined to push
that.”

The put-off look thrown his way reminds him that yes, she is indeed related to the boy in question.
“He isn’t just tolerating you, Zuko. He’s… he’s happy, being around you. Whether or not he’ll
come out and say it. I want to keep seeing my brother happy and as odd as it is to say, I want to see
you happy too.”

It’s possibly the kindest thing the water bender has said to him ever. Scratch that, it is. He’s more
than a little tongue-tied at the multiple admissions, trying to fathom how it is that this weird little
group has managed to forgive and move on so easily. “You do?” He asks with equal hope and
suspicion.

She scoffs, the sizzle of meat hitting a hot pan emphasizing it. This side of her is a little more
recognizable. “Yes, I do. We all had our… doubts in the beginning, obviously. But I can kind of
see why Tui and La chose you for Sokka.”

“I’m surprised you’re not opposed to the thought of us together, after everything,” He can’t help
but remind her since she clearly won’t do it herself. And when it gets him nothing but a soft glare,
he can’t help but let out a laugh in relief at the fact that he’s somehow finally escaped her wrath.
“Understood. And Katara?”
“Yes, Zuko?” She beams, satisfied at seemingly getting through to him.

“Thank you.” He tries to convey just how much it means to him, her approval and her acceptance.

It seems he’s managed to successfully convey his sincerity because she steps away from the
boiling water and hot pan. Before he knows it, he’s got his arms full of his soulmate’s sister, her
embrace feeling an awful lot warmer than most fires he’s felt. “You’re family now. You don’t need
to thank me for being nice. Just do something for me?”

“Anything.” It doesn’t feel like a death sentence to promise such a thing as it did with Azula.

“Don’t wait too long to tell him how you feel. We don’t know what tomorrow brings in this war.”
She reminds him, effectively reminding them both of the potentially morbid future.

He takes it to heart because he knows she’s right. He’s learned that she typically always is and
briefly wonders if it’s just something to do with girls. “I won’t if you won’t.”

It’s probably a low thing to say but it doesn’t stop him. He’s not blind, after all. Katara and Aang
can make as many googly eyes at each other as they want. It doesn’t change the fact that he knows
they tiptoe around what they are as much as he and Sokka do. At least his own complicated
relationship has a reason to be tiptoed around. Theirs, not so much.

She steps away at that, yet another glare painted across her features. It’s harsher than the last one
but still no true malice behind it. “Fine. Now go and get the others. This should all be wrapped up
soon.”

He smiles at her, making his way to find everyone as ordered. And if his attention lingers on
Sokka more than it does the others, well, he can excuse that on habit and not the conversation he’s
just had.

It takes him a few days to make good on that promise to Katara. Or at least, attempts to make good
on it. He opens his mouth one morning, when it’s just him and the boy who has him struggling to
think straight. What he means to do is begin a serious conversation about feelings. What comes out
is instead this. “Do you want to get fire flakes?”

When Sokka turns to him like he’s finally lost it after spending so much time under the relentless
sun, he doesn’t even blame him. “What?”

He winces but pushes on, unwilling to admit defeat just yet. “I, back when we watched the play,”

“Fucking awful play,” He interjects quickly, grimacing at just the mention of it.

“You liked the fire flake snacks they served. I saw them when we went into town before. If you
wanted more, we could get some.” He explains and he’s almost proud of himself for making it
make sense. “Together.” He adds on, just in case.

Sokka, fortunately, just grins. “Is this you asking me on a date?”

“No!” He exclaims, surely flushing the same red he wears. And then, hearing how it sounds,
immediately goes to correct him. “I mean, I could! If that’s what you wanted. It could also just be
an outing between two strictly platonic friends.”

The raised eyebrow feels far more judgemental than anything he could’ve said. “What do you want
it to be?”
He almost lies. But then he looks into those eyes and there are too many memories that threaten to
surface. He distantly hears Katara in the back of his mind and he remembers her warning. She
hadn’t been wrong, any day now this peaceful life could come crashing down. If not by their
planned invasion, then by being discovered.

“I…” Zuko begins hesitantly. I want it to be a date. He realizes with little to no surprise. And as
usual, what he plans to say is not what he ends up saying. The longer he stares at Sokka, not for the
first time a little more than speechless at his effortless beauty, the looser his tongue gets. “I don’t
care where we go or what we do. I just want it to be with you.”

It’s entirely far too honest than he intended. And more breathless than he realized it would be. But
he can’t take it back and finds that he doesn’t want to either. Sokka shares his surprise, eyes
widening and suddenly he isn’t the only one who’s red in the face.

“Woah,” He hums beneath his breath, wetting his lips in a way that distracts Zuko more than it
should. “Consider me wooed.”

It breaks the trance but he finds himself laughing and Sokka, despite looking a little embarrassed,
joins him. “We don’t have to get fire flakes, of course. I was mainly trying to find us time to spend
together. Without the others around.”

“I mean, I wasn’t complaining,” Sokka points out smugly. “But we are alone right now. Was there
something you wanted to talk about?”

“I, um…” Swallowing thickly, he summons whatever courage he can to front and center. He hadn’t
actually thought this far, despite it being his initial intention.

Sokka gives him the time he needs, his large palm coming up to rest on his shoulder. And then he
gently squeezes it in support, only serving to make him more tongue-tied than he already was.
“You?”

“I wanted to say,” He can function like a person before his father, before councilmen that would
see him suffer, and even under the attentive gaze of the Avatar himself. But put Sokka’s attention
on him and suddenly Zuko forgets all of that. It’s not fair.

“You can tell me whatever it is,” Sokka assures him, seemingly taking his stilted silence the wrong
way. There’s worry set in his eyes now as he leans closer and Zuko almost feels guilty for it.

He’s never been one to plan words out. The only time he’s ever successful with them is when he
lets his heart take over. It’s an old habit, one he’s pushed down for years now, but he welcomes the
familiarity of it now. “Your sister told me to be honest because we don’t know what tomorrow
brings. There’s so much that can go wrong in the future and I don’t think I could live with myself
if I didn’t take a chance on you.”

Zuko pauses, gulping as he dares to look at the other boy. He hasn’t removed his hand, at least, but
his eyes are wider than they were earlier and even his lips are parted in shock now. He forces
himself to continue, afraid of the possible response he’s going to be met with. “This isn’t meant to,
to pressure you or anything. You could tell me right now to leave or that all we’ll ever be now is
friends. But you have to know, before it’s too late or something happens and I end up never saying
it, that I have been yours ever since you first walked into that stupid tea house. Even if you don’t
want me.”

The hand on his shoulder is almost painful now, nails digging into the cloth of his shirt. And then
it’s pulling him closer until he’s flushed against Sokka and he’s fairly certain he’s dreaming now
because there are lips against his. Lips that kiss him with a desperation that it feels like it really is
their last day here, their last-second even.

He lets Sokka take and take and take. And he pushes everything he has to offer up like a sacrifice
into the kiss and pulls him ever closer by his shirt’s collar. And he thinks that maybe, if this was
their last moment, it wouldn’t be so bad.

The moment passes, though, and they’re both still there. He leans his head against Zuko’s, a
beautiful vision in shades of blues and red. “ Even if I don’t want you, ” He mocks breathlessly,
scoffing and tucking Zuko’s head beneath his in order to plant a gentle kiss to the top of his head
like a crown. “Of course I fucking want you, you jerk.”

The laugh that bubbles out of him is borderline delirious but he doesn’t care about that right now.
He’s too caught up on that fact that, despite everything, he’s wanted . He’s wanted by this too
good, too beautiful, too everything boy. “I want you too, by the way.”

“Oh really?” Sokka snorts, leaning back so he can see just how heavily he rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I
kind of gathered that. But it’s nice to have it confirmed.”

And because he can, because this is something he can have again, Zuko drags Sokka back closer
and willingly loses himself against those lips again. He knows, with a certainty that finally seems
to calm that inferno in his chest, it won’t be the last time.

Surprisingly, nothing really changes. Zuko still finds most of his time occupied by Aang and
counties teaching him the last element he needs to learn. He still helps Katara with meals, even if
she wears a knowing smile now that she knows he actually went through with her advice.

The only difference he finds is sparring with Sokka becoming even more charged than before,
swords often laid forgotten in favor of roaming hands. And in turn, Toph becomes a tad bit
incorrigible, having been witness to more than a few moments. Suki laughing at the many jokes
thrown at them seems to just egg the younger girl on.

They learn to keep sparring professional and at a minimum, for both Toph’s sake and their
respective dignities.

The biggest change that does happen has nothing to do with them and their newly reformed
relationship. No, it instead comes in the shape of two separate letters. It serves to remind everyone
how temporary their stay at the villa was always meant to be.

Sokka reads them out, revealing the first letter to be from his father. It contains information about
the forces they’ve successfully gathered plus when and where the meetup point will be. The second
scroll doesn’t have any identification but from how the contents reveal the capital and castle’s
defense setups, Zuko can take a guess at who it’s from.

“We’ll have to pack up soon. We head out in two days.” Sokka reminds them. They’d be getting to
the meetup point a day before everyone else but considering the fact that they’d be the ones
leading this, that was probably for the best.

“I can’t believe it’s finally happening,” Suki sighs, looking as conflicted as they all must feel.

“It'll be different than last time. It has to be.” Aang says as if he can will it to be so with just his
words alone.

Katara offers a delicate smile, resting a hand on her soulmate’s arm. “And it will be! We’ve come
all this way. That can’t be for nothing.”

That night is the first time Zuko allows himself to think about his father’s future. And what it
means for his own. He knows what’ll follow, if they succeed. He just isn’t quite sure if he’s ready
for that.

***

The entire trip feels a little too much like a death march if anyone were to ask for Sokka’s humble
opinion. And when Appa lands, heaving a great sigh after traveling for hours, there’s an even
heavier silence that weighs them all down. If Sokka were any more dramatic, he might proclaim
that he could feel the tightness of a noose around his neck as he set up his tent to truly make the
death comparisons come full circle.

They’d brought food with them but it goes untouched that night, everyone far too aware of how
this is the last night they have like this. Tomorrow, they’ll be surrounded by others, and even with
the chance to see his dad again, Sokka still can’t help but feel nauseous.

The next chance they’ll get to just be them and camp out, it’ll be in an entirely different and
changed world. And that’s only if they’re successful. If he’s successful because they’re all riding
on the plans he’ll be coming up with these next three days. Worst case scenario, the next chance
they’ll get is in the spirit world.

Which reminds Sokka that he should probably double-check with Aang that people can in fact
hang out in the spirit world. Or, well spirits can hang out. It would suck if he had to be by himself
the entire time.

Really, it’s no surprise that he finds himself sneaking out of his tent that night. What is a surprise is
the fact that he managed to wait until everyone was asleep. Everyone except the fire bender whose
tent he sneaks into.

Zuko only looks mildly surprised but he doesn’t say anything on the matter, thank the spirits. He
simply scoots over to make room for him and Sokka doesn’t think he’s ever been so appreciative
of a person before. He practically collapses next to him,

Sokka lets him pretend to keep his distance for all of a few minutes before he eliminates the space
himself. He tugs the prince closer in a manner a petulant child might with their comfort blanket.
And no, he isn’t fond of the comparison.

Luckily, it’s allowed. And the warmth of the other boy helps him relax some, tension that he
hadn’t known lurked in his limbs bleeding out.

“It’s all gonna be okay,” He mumbles into a fluff of dark hair, if only to remind himself.

Hands curl tighter into the back of his shirt and a warm breath fans across his collarbone. It’s a
welcome distraction. “We have every advantage possible. Of course it’s going to be okay.”

He leans back, only slightly. “You really think so?”

There’s a look that passes Zuko’s eyes but it doesn’t stay long enough for him to decipher it. “I
do.”
And if only to distract himself, to lose himself just to quiet his mind, he surges forward and claims
the lips he can still feel the warmth of against his skin. His hands even stop shaking as they
reacquaint themselves with slim hips.

“This is okay?” He hears himself ask, low and careful.

Zuko nods against him, gasping softly as he moves his attention to the pale throat that has taunted
him one too many times. And it’s been too, too long since he’s had this chance.

This, he finds, is far easier to think about. He sets aside everything in his mind because it’s easier
to draw out gasps like that from his soulmate. And it’s a heady thing, to want someone like this and
for the sentiment to be returned tenfold.

Somehow, his hands find themselves beneath the tunic, tugging wordlessly in a way that Zuko
understands. He shimmies out of the red fabric, throws it at the end by their feet, and Sokka wastes
no time making his descent to the flushed flesh now on display. Wastes no time in finding the
mirrors of his own scars, tongue tracing indigo blooms.

“Nghh!” Zuko gasps again, one hand covering his own mouth and the other firmly wrapped around
Sokka’s shoulder. The tight grasp is grounding and he welcomes it fully.

He had no intention of crossing this line tonight. It’s one they were careful of even back in Ba Sing
Se. But he gets so wrapped up in the pretty noises Zuko lets out, so focused on learning different
ways to draw them forward. And this could be the last chance he ever gets to have him like this.

So when hips buck against him and he becomes far too aware of the physical feeling of want, of
need, he blames no one but the spirits for putting him in this position when his hand sinks lower
than hips. And though his movements are awkward at first and there’s even a moment where Zuko
has to guide his hand, he finds there’s no one he wants to take responsibility for this but him. Not
for the masterpiece that he watches unfold beneath his very hands.

He knew Zuko was beautiful, scar and all. The vibrant gold of his eyes, how easily porcelain skin
could become blush pink, and those pretty dark waves that were beginning to reach the bottom of
his neck all attested to that. But he never anticipated this. Of Zuko falling apart in his grasp in the
best of ways, calling out his name is the most wrecked voice he’s ever heard.

It’s a sight forever seared into his head. And if he wasn’t already determined to live through the
war they're about to finish, he would be just so that he could experience this again. He finds
himself looking forward to the different ways he can make it happen.

And even though his hand is sticky and he should probably find something to help them get
cleaned up, he can’t help himself from pushing forward and kissing Zuko with everything he has.
And he hopes every unsaid thing between them becomes clear to the other boy.

“This is not our last night,” He murmurs, more certain than he had been when he first collapsed
inside the tent. “Promise me it won’t be our last night. That you’ll stay.”

Whether staying is in regards to the living or just by his side doesn’t get said. It doesn’t need to be.
Zuko, spent and sweaty and wearing a softness he’s never quite seen, smiles up at him in a way
that has him gulping. “I promise, Sokka.”

His chest gives a painful thud and he fights back the burn in his eyes that follows it. Eventually, he
does as he should, helping them both get cleaned up. And when Zuko curls into his side on his
own accord this time, he feels more prideful than he should.
 When morning comes, if anyone notices Sokka leaving the wrong tent, it’s not brought up.
Breakfast is a better affair than dinner was last night. He manages to get Toph’s competitive streak
sparked and they end up seeing who can eat the fastest. To no one's surprise, it’s Katara that has to
stop them from choking to death.

It’s later, when Aang’s earth bending with Toph to cheer her up over Katara ruining her fun, that
they see the ships begin to dock. It’s more than just Southern Water Tribe fleets, too. It’s far more
than that.

And as people begin to make their way to their camp, as they begin to set up their own, Sokka
realizes they really do have a chance at this. He feels like he can breathe again and when his dad
embraces him and his sister, there’s a lightness in his chest that has him smiling the rest of the day.

At some point, he meets Zuko’s brilliant gaze, and he knows. He’d win this war for his family in a
heartbeat and that includes everyone in their little group. But looking at this boy, at the scar that
brands them both in different ways, he remembers waking up screaming that fateful night. He’d
hoped his soulmate’s father had been there for him just as his own had been. That had been a naive
wish when it came to the prince.

Hakoda had said his soulmate was strong and a fighter. He now knows this to be more true than
anything else he’s ever known. And he knows, without a doubt, he’s going to help them win this
war if only to do right by the man he loves.

Chapter End Notes

* If you skipped the smut, and that term is used loosely, and wanted to know what you
missed, Sokka gave Zuko an emotional handjob.

Holy shit, we're on the last leg here. The next chapter will be the official last one and
then the one after that is an epilogue. I might actually cry!! And thank you for the
wonderful support in my coming back to this story!!! It means more than you know.

Also please give my gay ass a round of applause for the emotional handjob scene. I
really did try my best but I'm not too used to smut scenes including dudes.
 gentle hands and a dash of bold
Chapter Summary

It's just the beginning.

Chapter Notes

Sorry for the wait, but I finally finished this and I could cry and kiss every last one of
you that's stuck around this long. Thank you for joining me in writing this and without
further ado, enjoy! I might add an epilogue if yall want too.

There’s something about looking death right in the eyes and daring it to take you. It leaves a cold
certainty in its wake, a determination that feels just a bit hollow in your bones. Zuko looks upon the
capital walls, his home in another life, and fears they just might be the last thing he ever sees.

It’s a bloodbath filled with burns and the distinct smell of melting flesh. Scattered around, ice finds
itself lodged into metal armor and making itself home inside soldiers. It’s ugly and it’s messy and
it’s the closest to freedom any of them have been in over a century.

He’s lost track of the others, a worry that sets upon his shoulders and threatens to drag him down,
but he won’t let it. He can’t let it. He’d been tasked with leading the way and that’s what he’s
going to do. Flames whip around him, a shield against his own people, a shield for the battalion
he’s been given to look after.

The time of questioning why exactly the prince of the nation is the one leading them and not
fending them off has passed. Any arguments had died when they’d seen his scar mirrored on the
chief’s son and it had clicked into place faster than what he was entirely comfortable with.

Still, he pushes forward, adrenaline keeping him steady and able, fighting backache in his shoulder
and the dull throb of his left wrist. He’s sure his wrist will scar, the burn already pulling tightly
with every movement, and he hopes Sokka isn’t already littered with the petals of it.

It’s then the gates come crashing down and his vision is filled with flames. It comes at him from
seemingly every angle, quicker than that of lightning, and it’s only his own fire that keeps it from
getting any closer. He’s certain he’s close to being roasted alive, knows surely that he’s sunburned
with that amount of heat, but he’s alive.

He fights back against the troops, cautious of his own, and surged forward, so close to the castle
now. So close to where Aang surely is already, if everything has gone to plan. He tries not to think
of everything that can go wrong, tries to trust the training has paid off, that the world is in the
capable hands of a fully realized Avatar and not just a boy.

“I should’ve known you’d be responsible for the ruination of this country.” A man snarls, one he
vaguely recognizes from all the war meetings he’d been made to attend. And he charges forward
with a fury that’s both impressive and foolish. It makes his attacks predictable, unsteady, entirely
too reliant on emotions alone. “Your father will reward me when I bring him your head!”

And Zuko moves with the newfound grace he’s still coming into, easily sidestepping the attacks
and deflecting them as soon as they’re acted out. It only serves to anger the man further, his
frustrated screams echoing with the dying ones of his own troops.

“Prince Zuko!” A warrior from the Northern Watertribe calls out in warning, the crackling of
lightning filling the area.

He doesn’t have time to call back, to assure the young man he knows what he’s doing, before he’s
redirecting lightning. And suddenly it’s not just fire they’re playing with. Zuko redirects as much
as he can but even he has his limits. And with no time to actually send his own attacks, he’s pushed
back.

Its when the attacks are too close together, not giving him enough time to defend himself and the
ones around him, that the man falls. That the soldiers wearing red pause, glancing at the one
responsible.

Months have passed but Azula still looks perfect, not a hair out of place even now, even in the
middle of a battlefield. She grins, wildly and looking more animal than anything else, ready to
consume her prey in one bite.

She turns to the confused soldiers, now lacking their commander and between the two defected
royals they’re meant to serve. “The Firelord falls this day. Draw your lines now and choose which
side you’ll stand with. But know this, I’ll strike you down where you stand without hesitation
should it be the wrong choice.

They listen, cowed easily and outnumbered. And it’s the first group to submit to them, to join their
ranks. It’s not the last, Zuko finds out when they finally reach the castle doors and his sister.

“It took you long enough, Zuzu!” Azula cackles, lightning spinning around her as she shows
exactly what she means by what she considers the wrong choice.

“It’s good to see you too, Lala!” He throws right back, not missing the way the corner of her mouth
rises just a bit in response. “How’s it looking inside?”

“I’ve sent Aang after Father,” She explains, taking charge and leading them deep within the walls
of their once home. “My people have been deployed, the castle has been cleared, and once your
armies take care of those outside, this will be over.”

“Just like that?” He asks a bit breathless, unable to comprehend it all. A century’s worth of pain
and suffering and tyranny over so easily.

But his sister stops, leveling him with a look that has him feeling less like a man and more like a
scolded child. It’s a look their mother had given them plenty of times. “You act as if this has not
taken years to arrange, Zuko. Loyalties were hard-fought. And that’s not even beginning to get into
restitutions. This is merely the beginning.”

“I understand, I do.” He sighs, picking up pace as she then continues on her way. “Have you heard
from Uncle any? Is he okay?”

“Uncle is just fine. He leads the White Lotus as we speak.” She assures before glancing over her
shoulder. “The White Lotus is a powerful secret organization, if you weren’t aware.”

He scoffs, but admits it. “I wasn’t.”

“Leave it to you to travel for years with their leader and meet many of their members yet not have a
clue, brother.” She teases, familiar and comforting in ways he never thought it would be. “Now
come, we must secure the other side of the palace for the others.”

It’s in the middle of fighting off the last few soldiers in the courtyard that he feels it. A faint echo
of pain just below his chest, like a tearing through the skin. It’s sudden and when he finally has a
moment to peek down at himself, he sees it. The immediate blooming of violently vibrant purple.

“Azula!” He hollers, voice cracking. And she glances at him, at his bare chest that had been
nothing but pale skin before. And she pales, hissing through her teeth.

“Go find him!” She urges, looking like a dancer and her lightning ribbons. “I’ll handle it here!”

He nods, feeling terror crawl up his throat and ice in his veins that no winter could compete with.
He tries to remember their plans, of how Sokka said he’d fight with Toph in the air and once that
was finished, they’d secure the shores. And he races, not pausing for anyone as they call after him.

It’s a relief it’s the tail end of this. There’s no one to make him fight rather than run, no one to
accuse him of treachery and put on a pitiful attempt at defending the Fire Nation. He’s free to race
to the shores, desperate in his search for any familiar faces.

He finds Katara, healing those she can, and one look at his chest is all she needs to join him. “How
long ago?” She questions, somehow steady where he feels frayed apart.

The vibrancy of the purple flickers and he gulps, darting terrified eyes her way. “Fifteen minutes
ago at the most. Have you seen the others?”

“I saw my father not long ago, he was making sure the south side was secure. You?” She answers,
an ice wall coming to life when a wave of fire is thrown at them. Quite easily, she has the offender
pinned down with ice shackles, ready to move once more.

“My sister. She’d cleared out the castle and was getting the courtyard under order last I saw!” He
shouts back, just as they come across downed airships.

And in the middle of it all lays the one he’s looking for. Toph lays above him, hands pressed
firmly against what must be the wound. Others are attempting to help but they matter little to Zuko.
No, he takes in the tears staining Toph’s cheeks and the blood on her hands. The blood covering
the front of Sokka.

He’d thought he’d faced death before. Not even just today, but the many times throughout his life.
A few times he’d even welcomed it. He knows now what it truly feels like.

Never before has Zuko been so terrified, even on his knees and pleading for the burning to stop, to
make it go away, make it all go away . This, he finds, is what death truly is. A hole in his chest
with devastation to blame. To feel every cell in his body, every breath to come to a stop. Because
how could he possibly breathe when… when Sokka… when the love of his life lays unmoving and
the blooms he’d been graced with flicker in and out of color?

He sees Katara race forward and it’s what kicks him out of his own racing thoughts. What has him
landing roughly on his knees and on the opposite side of Toph and Katara.

“What happened?!” Katara questions, getting to work and pulling water out of her pouch, hands
glowing over where Toph’s just was.
“We- we thought the soldiers were taken care of!” Toph hiccups, looking younger than she’s ever
been. She looks like just a girl, something he knows they all forget. A young girl who shouldn’t
even be on the battlefield like this. “We got the airships down and one of them, they caught us by
surprise! I took care of them but it was too late, their sword had caught. I should’ve been faster!”

Zuko shakes his head, heart aching when the hand he grabs doesn’t clasp around his. “You did
everything you could. You kept him alive until Katara could reach you. You did good.”

She doesn’t say anything to that, shoulders still shaking as she slowly sits back. Katara nods in
agreement though. “Zuko’s right. You kept pressure on it like I taught you. You saved his life.”

“So he’s going to be okay?” Toph asks, voice weak. Zuko looks to the water bender, silently
asking the same.

Katara smiles at them both, though it’s tense and heavy. “He is now. It’s not a complete recovery, I
can only do so much, but he has a fighting chance now.”

And that’s enough to refill the stale oxygen in Zuko’s lungs. Enough that the petals stop fading in
color and stay their vibrant hue. He lets out a sigh of relief, leaning forward and gently kissing the
top of Sokka’s head. The dark waves are matted with sweat but that’s okay. It’s going to be okay.

They see it before Aang can even tell them about it. Between waiting for his return and for Sokka
to come to, the sky turns red and blue. And then it all goes white. The world doesn’t end so they
assume it’s a good thing.

Sokka wakes before Aang can return. He’s been moved closer to the airships, back against one to
help him sit up. And he’s got a million questions on his tongue but his running mouth means he’s
alive and able to talk. It means he’s okay.

So Zuko takes the time to answer each and every question, never happier. He rests his forehead
against the other boy’s, breath stolen from his lungs at just the presence of Sokka.

“I love you,” He can’t help but say, his entirely too mortal soulmate’s blood on his hands. And he
knows he would have regretted it for the rest of his days if he hadn’t said it any sooner than this.
He won’t take another chance, won’t allow another second of Sokka not knowing how dearly Zuko
adores him.

Sokka pauses, eyes widening a fraction before a goofy smile plays across his lips. He yanks Zuko
forward none too gently and kisses him like his life depends on it, like it might be the last thing
he’ll ever do. And then he pulls back, still smiling that smile at him. “I wanted to say it first, you
jerk.”

He laughs, shaking his head and kissing the lips that might just be his undoing. “Then say it
already.”

“I love you.” He doesn’t hesitate to say, chuckling softly at the admission.

And it only makes sense the beginning of peace begins with this. With the love of his life still hurt
but breathing and confessing he’s just as in love with Zuko as Zuko is with him. It’s the first true
time he’s ever felt like he’s finally made it home.
 ***

Aang gets back and Sokka offers his sister and the avatar the same privacy Katara had offered him
and his own soulmate. He’d save their cheesy reunion for when his own wasn’t still fresh on
everyone’s minds. But Aang wasn’t alone, a very alive Phoenix King being dragged behind him.

But Aang explains himself, promising it’s safe, and Azula does quick work in locking him away.
Everyone rejoins together at the castle, where Sokka gets a front-row seat to Iroh and Zuko
reuniting. And of course, the man goes about making him tea at the sight of his bandaged chest.

He and Zuko both have a difficult time wrapping their minds around this man being the same
person as the one before. Gone is the gut and soft body, replaced instead by extremely impressive
muscles. Muscles Sokka could only ever hope to dream of having one day.

The tea at least is the same, just as amazing as he remembered it being. And not that he’d ever tell
but it’s a relief to have it after months of Zuko’s. His love is certainly talented at many things and
while his tea isn’t awful, it is very average. Painfully so.

“This changes everything,” Iroh announces after a bit of silence. “What have you planned, Prince
Zuko?”

“To survive is about it. Azula says she has something worked out for me, though. I’m supposed to
be Firelord now.” He lets out a breath, staring into his teacup intently.

“I thought as much. And will you?” Iroh pushes.

Sokka watches Zuko’s shoulders fall and the slow, hesitant nod. “It’s what I must do. The sooner
the better.”

“You won’t be alone, dear boy,” He chuckles, erasing the building tension easily. “You’ll have
your sister and me as acting advisors. If you’ll have us.”

“Of course I will,” Zuko responds, as if the mere notion of otherwise is offensive to him.

And Sokka, incapable of keeping his mouth shut, sets his cup down and leans back. “Will I be
Firelady then?”

He hadn’t intended to make Zuko choke and yet here they are. “We have to be wed first!” He cried
out, face red.

“Is that you asking, nephew?” Iroh teases, serving to make Zuko unable to even talk without
sputtering.

Sokka laughs so hard he hurts his wound, clutching his sides. “I’m a romantic, Zuko! You’re
gonna have to impress me better than that!”

“I hate you both!” He cries out, face aflame.

He wipes the tears from his eyes, pretending to be hurt by such words, and finds he can get used to
this. To tea with Iroh and Zuko, to the castle that doesn’t seem as cold as it had before, and to the
look of pure adoration on Zuko’s face despite the urge to strangle Sokka in his eyes.

/
 Recovery takes a long time. By the time Zuko’s rule is announced a few weeks later, he’s still in
bandages. It’s a source of guilt for Toph, despite how often they reassure her it shouldn’t be, but he
lets it go.

They stay at the castle, for once able to be safe in one place for a while, and he wonders what it
would be like to just stay. To make this his home alongside Zuko. It’s a thought he gives into only
at night, at least until he’s able to give it serious consideration in the daylight.

In the meantime, he spends his days in physical therapy and with the Fire Nation’s royal family
except the one in chains. He picks apart Azula’s brain, almost frighteningly fascinated by it. He
reminisces his Ba Sing Se days by relearning to make tea with Iroh and learning about the man’s
adventures. And he teases Zuko every chance he gets just to see that beautiful flush take over him.
A flush that he learns does in fact cover the other man’s entire body. He’d always been curious
about that.

Not long after the coronation, Aang and Katara leave to begin repairs to the Water Tribes. He
almost goes but she reminds him they’ll need a representative there. And he sees through it, he
does, but he pretends he doesn’t. Pretends what he’s learning is to be a diplomat for the Southern
Water Tribe and not the role of the Firelord’s spouse.

It takes him a few months to realize he never made a conscious choice yet somehow it became his
home. He somehow ended up staying anyways. And it’s not the future he imagined having but he,
well, he doesn’t mind it.

He likes waking next to Zuko, to having meals with Toph and what’s slowly becoming family to
him too, and getting to know the staff of the castle. He likes the heat, which is the most surprising
thing of all. And yes, he misses the chill of home, but Katara’s around often enough that he can
always visit when he likes when she makes her trips.

They rebuild. It’s something he’s used to by now. And with steady hands, they reshape the world
into what it should’ve always been. They all breathe in tandem now, free to do as they please, free
to love who they love. And by the spirits, does Sokka love this man.

And with three squeezes to his hand, a reassuring smile aimed his way as they entertain Earth
Kingdom officials, he knows that he isn’t alone in that feeling. He squeezes back, content in a way
he never thought he would be.

End Notes

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