Chapter Text
Sokka barely paid any mind to the chatter within the barracks as he thought over their current situation. It had been two days now since Zuko had been found out. That almost put their stay at a whole week.
The Water Tribe boy picked up his tray in the cafeteria line. He could feel himself coming off of his high. Reality was settling in. Sokka couldn’t help but feel guilt nesting within his chest instead.
The feeling wasn’t just because he had unwittingly gotten the Prince captured… That was a mess all on it’s own. Although, admit-ably, things could have been much worse for the perceived traitor…
In truth, they were lucky the warden didn't want a riot. The whole prison knowing the Prince's true identity would have done just that. Luckier still, if you could call it luck, that the warden perceived the Prince as a possible threat to his spotless record. So, it was extraordinarily lucky his only order had been that Prince Zuko behave himself until the Firelord could be contacted.
But, as if he needed more to feel guilty about- The Water Tribesman had started to take notice how sickening normal this routine as a fire nation guard felt. It was as if he were a child again walking amongst the barracks at home. He remembered how desperately he wanted to be a warrior back then. Phantom admiration took him over once more whilst reminiscing. And so, for a few moments everyday everything felt something close to normal. More normal than it had all year. That had to be a betrayal on some level.
But... the thing he felt the worst about... was that glimpse of happiness just moments ago... Sokka was so gleeful when he saw his dad step off that gondola.
Oh, how badly he had wanted to go to his father. He could feel his chest aching at the thought, even now. But he had to wait till nightfall.
And that’s why he had this sinking feeling as the lunch lady filled up his tray. He almost didn’t feel hungry. Almost. Because... all of this... the normalcy of being a guard... seeing his dad... it all felt really, really, really, wrong. Because every moment, every second, they stayed here could prove fatal for Zuko. Or worse.
Sokka tried to dispel that feeling. He shook his head a little as if, by chance, the image of his friend being tortured might somehow come tumbling out of his ears. ‘Zuko signed up for this when he insisted on coming’, the warrior rationalized. ‘There’s no reason for me to feel guilty about anything!’.
Sokka had been so lost in his thoughts that he hardly noticed when he heard the 'fellow' guardsman laugh as he passed by them, food tray in hand. At first he thought they were laughing at him: the newbie with the stiff strut. Or whatever it was they’d deemed criticism worthy. But, they hadn’t been laughing at him. And the name that graced the female guard’s lips gave him pause.
Instinctively: He tried to calm himself. There was no need to panic. He hadn’t heard the entire sentence. He had just heard the tail end of it. The name:
“Zuko”
Yet, he still froze.
All the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end like he was being assaulted by the cold wind of his homeland. The feeling was something kin to those goosebumps he felt back then but, not quite as pleasant. For a moment, the Water Tribe boy felt in tune to that spiritual pool of chie located in his stomach. The feeling is fleeting. But, he remembered how Katara had described it as she explained waterbending to Aang for the first time. Like a body of water, she had said. Tides always swirling and shifting in sync with your emotions and the weight of your body. But, that pool in the pit of his stomach held no waves. The currents felt sickeningly slow as if it were stuck. Stagnant. Like that feeling of bile before you start to gag and throw up.
He couldn’t help but wish they had been laughing at him. He was the funny guy, after all. He was used to being laughed at.
As smoothly as he could muster he turned on his heel and sat in an open seat among the guards. Trying his best not to jump to conclusions. He'd only heard Zuko's name after all. Still, Sokka needs to know what they know. Because if word gets out amongst the guards… well… that’d be bad.
They were still laughing when the female guard noticed him. “Oh hey. You’re the newbie that helped me with the imposter.”
Panic seized him. Oh god she knows. It took a lot of effort to keep his brow smooth as he smiled, “Yep that’s me. The newbie.” He hoped his nervousness didn’t shine through.
She smiled back at him warmly like an older sister looking at her kid brother, “Did you ever get a good look at him after?”
Sokka shook his head. He worried that she could hear his thundering heart.
“Damn.” She said disappointed. She then thought for a moment before finally asking, “Well, did you notice the scar? I was just telling these guys how much he looked like the banished Prince Zuko.” The sentence had been fairly light hearted up till the end. Like she was complaining about there being too little snow for sledding. Until she spat the words 'Banished Prince'.
Sokka made a face. Like he was trying to remember. Putting on his best acting yet, “Yeah” he said 'unconvinced'.
“Don’t you agree he looked like the Prince?”
Sokka flared his nostrils and twisted his lips to the side “I mean….” He squinted “I gueeeeeeesss” saying it as if he were unsure.
One of the male guards laughed, “See! Just because he has a face scar doesn’t mean he looks like the traitor Prince.” He almost sounded defensive. It made the fake gaurdsman wonder if Zuko had recently caused a stigma towards face scars in the fire nation.
She looked away with a pout, obviously upset she had lost the argument. If it had even been one. Sokka felt a rush of relief though, it was short lived.
“Man.” An older male guard said wistfully, “It’s weird that people are talking about him again. I can still remember the news of his banishment as if it were yesterday.” He said it as if it had been a long time ago. Which made Sokka quirk a brow at him without thinking. 'it practically was yesterday’, the Water Tribesman thought. Hadn’t the Prince only been banished a month ago when he left the Fire Nation during the eclipse?
‘How much news happens on a day to day basis in the Fire Nations?’ Sokka wondered a tad dimly.
The man smiled down at Sokka’s quizzically brow.
‘Oh shit.’ The Water Tribe boy looked away sheepishly. Not sure how to explain himself. Lucky for him the man laughed as if Sokka had told a particularly funny joke, despite the fact he hadn’t said anything. He tried not to stiffen too much as the older man said, “Ah it’s alright son. Don’t be embarrassed to ask. A lot of people your age don’t know the full story of the famous banishment.”
‘What was that supposed to mean?’
“So, like…” the younger looking guard started; the one that had been offended by the face scars business. “All I ever heard where horror stories other kids told me.” And then he smirked saying lowly, “I was kind of afraid to ask my parents about it. Didn’t want the royal treatment.”
It was obviously a scandalous statement. The woman made a disgusted face. It was as if someone had told a very distasteful joke about kidnapped waterbenders, or something to that caliber. But, Sokka didn’t get it. The elder boomed another laugh as if he were an old sailor immune to all things involving scandal. But, the traitor among them couldn’t help but fidget uncomfortably. Then the older man whispered back “More like the spoiled brat treatment.”
Everyone else at the table couldn’t seem to be able to hold back a light chuckle. It was supposed to be funny, for whatever reason. But, they obviously did not want to be heard right now. Sokka tried to awkwardly force a laugh as well. If any of them had been paying any attention to him they might have noticed how rigid he was.
As he laughed he inwardly tried to reassure himself that, if this broke out into a storytelling session, then the story wasn’t going to be that bad. It was going to be about the day of the black sun. ‘That was when Zuko was banished, after all’ During their almost victory. It would sting. But he could deal with that. He knew how that story ended, after all.
“So…” the girl whispered, “Do you know what really happened in the war room?”
‘The war room?’
The older man leaned in as he took a breath but the younger man stopped him, “Wait. Wait. I want to know the whole story. It’s been so long since I’ve heard it.” He whined like a child wanting to hear a fairy tale. It made Sokka want to punch him in the face. He looked down to see his knuckles taunt; the color was leaving them as he gripped tightly at his seat.
An unknown feeling crawling up his spin. Seeping into him. Gut twisting. Feeling more and more unsure. No longer a pool or waves or whatever. Just organs and carnage clinching, tightening. Before he had felt cold. Now he felt uncomfortably hot.
Feverish.
He could feel that familiar heat creeping up the back of his neck reminding him of his nerves. The uncomfortable warmth conflicted with the ice in his gut. It reminded him of being ill. Being left with something burning stuck to the back of a dry throat.
He knew Zuko wouldn’t want him to sit here and listen to this. It would hurt his pride or honor or… whatever. His mind was racing again. Caught between wanting to leave and wanting to know.
The three leaned in a little to whisper and then looked at Sokka expectantly.
He didn’t have a choice, did he?
It dawned on him that this story was so common place that it was practically legend, apparently. It was that "ghost" story used to scare children. If he left now, socially, it’d be like leaving campfire during the reciting of great war stories won by the men of his village. Even now, he remembered those great stories in which their tribe bested the Fire Nation. Stories told by elders with pride and gusto. Sokka couldn’t help but think of how, if someone walked away from that campfire... looking sick... then the people of his village might think them a Fire Nation sympathizer. So, he leaned in. His heart beating violently the whole time.
Blue eyes fixated on the upturned corners of a mouth, “Well you better listen good, boys and girls. Because this is about as accurate a story as you're ever gonna hear.” He paused for a second. “Well unless you get the Firelord himself to tell you.”
'Or maybe the Prince.’ Sokka winced at the thought of asking Zuko such a thing.
“I heard this story only three days after it happened.”
The younger guard made an impatient look. Like he just wanted the older man to get to the actual story telling. The woman had a similar glare. And, Sokka would have been continent if the story had ended there.
“So, as you all know, the prince had just celebrated his thirteenth birthday…”
His heart sank. No, plummeted. Like a bolder off a cliff… like a… like a... He could hardly hear the man talk over his rising panic. His mind could barely function because of his panic. As a result, Sokka was only able to look at the mouth move through the motions of exposition. Unable to really process what he had heard.
And then his brain turned back on in a furry.
Thirteen? Thirteen? Just Thirteen?! That was Aang’s age now. The Firelord banished a child? His child? Sokka couldn’t help but chew his lip, making a face. So… Zuko was banished before the day of the black sun…?
He could vaguely remember it now. An angry boy in a ponytail shouting about his honor. Had he been a banished prince back then too? His eyes widened. It all made sense now. Well… more sense, anyways. He had always wondered why a Prince had chased them all around the globe. Why a princess had, in turn, chased the Prince whilst calling him a traitor. It was because Zuko had been banished all this time… But… why? And why at thirteen?
Sure, thirteen year olds suck sometimes. He would know, he was a pretty shitty one… But how could…?
“It’s said the prince was always very spoiled. He was a prince after all! He got everything he ever wanted! And the intense spoiling eventually made him lazy. He never wanted to practice his firebending. But again, he was the Prince. So, he felt he had nothing to worry about. He was the first born! It was his right to rule! He became lofty. Arrogant. He knew he’d soon have the throne. And it was all he could think about.”
Sokka remembered when he had just turned thirteen. Their father had left before his birthday. It was just him and Katara together in their family tent. Trying desperately to adjust to one another.
At the time, he and Katara were pranking each other. Well, it was more like Katara was pranking him. With waterbending. Constantly. Making snow slick so he’d trip. Making it look like he wet himself in front of the kids he was training. Annoying but trivial innocent things she had done. Harmless, really, in response to his constant sarcastic quips. And every now and again the things he would say… they would get a little underhanded... So, honestly it was understandable that she’d strike back.
They had no adult to reign them in.
And they were both lost and hurting. They desperately wanted to continue being siblings that teased each other. They didn’t want to grow up yet. They didn’t want to have to parent each other. They didn’t want to parent the orphans either. The two of them didn’t realize it then but, they didn’t really have the liberty of bickering anymore.
“And so, the Prince started demanding to be a part of his father’s court. Even though he wasn’t yet sixteen. His father tried to tell him he wasn’t ready.”
“But the Prince wouldn’t listen. So, the Prince ended up bullying his way into the war room during a war meeting.”
Sokka noticed that he was now grinding his teeth at every mention of Zuko being some pompous spoiled brat. He had remembered the days he, himself, had thought that. But now, after actually getting to know the Prince, it was really hard to imagine this Zuko.
Sokka’s analytical brain couldn’t help but provide the phrase, people change. Nobody's perfect. Everyone does things they regret. Especially at thirteen…
The tribesman grimaced as he remembered a time when he, himself, was really mean spirited. He had been tired of all the bending pranks. And, quite frankly, Sokka was jealous of his sisters bending. Her pranks felt like flaunting. So, he tied Katara’s braid to their tent post while she slept and then poured a little bit of water on it so it would freeze. It was funny at first. Significantly less so when Katara started crying in the morning. All the humor was drained from the action when his little sister became ill.
He inwardly winced at the memory. That had been a really, really, shitty thing to do to his sister.
“Our gracious Firelord warned Prince Zuko not to be disrespectful and never to speak out of turn during the meeting. But, again, the Prince thought since he was a Prince that he was immune to any sort of punishment. And so, unsurprisingly he was rude in the war room. He rolled his eyes at the war plans and said sarcastic things under his breath. The Firelord tolerated much before the Prince outright disobeyed him by speaking out of turn against a general’s plan. And so, the Firelord declared the Prince’s punishment-”
“What was the plan? And what was the Prince’s objection?” The girl interrupted, “I heard so many different stories.”
“Yeah.” The other male guard chimed in, “I heard Prince Zuko wanted to throttle the entire war. And, that his actions would have killed many innocent people.”
Killing Innocent people? That really didn’t sound like Zuko. It was hard to imagine Zuko so… consistently shitty. Just as it was hard to imagine Ozai as some kindly father figure.
"Yeah. That's what I heard too." Pause. Sokka expected him to add more to that particular branch of conversation. Instead the old story teller went on, "And so... For disgracing his father so badly the Firelord sentenced Zuko to fight in an Agni Kai..." The man paused taking a long swig of his drink for dramatic effect.
An Agni Kai?... Wait… No…
Sokka’s eyes widened in realization. The first day they had posed as guards he had heard a prisoner challenging a guard to an Agni Kai. Sokka had never heard the term before and so, out of curiosity, asked Zuko what that was. He noticed how Zuko visibly tensed at the words.
At the time, the Prince explained calmly that it was a firebending only battle with a bet system. The whole, “If I win I get this. If you win you get this.” kind of rules. The Prince said that, generally, it ended when the losing opponent had fallen completely. It didn’t seem all that strange at first. But, Sokka had felt dread as Zuko’s explanation drew to its conclusion. The Water Tribe boy had noticed how the Prince became monotone. His eyes completely distant as he explained that, as a really fucked up boon, the victor scarred the loser.
Sokka’s first thought had been, Is that how Zuko got his Scar? He didn’t ask. But then again, he didn’t need to. Zuko refused to meet his gaze hours after the conversation had already passed.
A sickness had welled up in Sokka as he looked at Zuko’s scar that day, with new eyes. He remembered how, when he saw it in the south pole, he had rationalized it as being an obvious training accident. Despite the fact it was almost perfectly shaped like a black eye from a firebenders hand…
Something kin to rage had settled into his jaw that evening. Every time the tribesman caught a glimpse of pink under helm he experienced a new kind of hatred towards the Fire Nation. To know someone had… intentionally done that to his face. A teenagers face. To permanently and publicly humiliate him for all of eternity... It upset Sokka, to put it lightly.
But now the Water Tribe boy wasn’t just angry. He was livid. How could his father sentence him to fight against a seasoned war general? What was wrong with him?
Sokka couldn’t help but remember, again, that time he froze Katara’s hair. How his Gran Gran scolded him. It had been his best efforts to hold back tears until she said, “Sokka.” In that disappointed tone, “You’re supposed to protect your sister. What would your father say?” and then the tears exploded forth. Uncontrollably he had cried like a baby and his Gran Gran had comforted him. Him. The one who had hurt his sister.
What he had done was awful. Mean. But no one had burned him. No one had banished him.
The man wiped his mouth ready to get back to the story. He looked around at the wide eyed young adults and smiled. And Sokka wanted to tackle him to the ground. How could he smile about something like that? Even if everything were true... How could someone justify burning a kid?
“And… As you all know… Zuko thought he was to face the general.”
Sokka’s breath hitched in his throat. What?
“But he had spoken out of turn in the Firelord’s court. So when, Prince Zuko turned to face his opponent he was not meet with the general but with the fearsome Firelord.”
His own father…?
Sokka felt sick. No. No, No, No, No, No, No, No, No. Why? Ozai had done terrible things. But… To intentionally hurt a child? His own child? As much as he wanted to believe Ozai to be completely and utterly irredeemable he didn’t want this to be true. The Water Tribesman found himself almost stricken with denial. For Zuko’s sake, he didn’t want to believe this. It was just so hard to fathom. His own father?
“Prince Zuko realized he had messed up. He knew he was no match for the Firelord.”
No match? That was his dad. His dad was supposed to love and protect him. Hold him when he had nightmares. Encourage him while he trained.
“So Zuko fell to his knees and begged for mercy.” The other two sneered and Sokka couldn’t help the flicker of a scowl that graced his features. How... how could they?
It had been a long time since he felt pure rage bubble in him. Making him see red. Images of violence flashing before his eyes.
“He begged and cried. He even pissed himself. But The Firelord had had enough. And thus, he told the prince what a spoiled brat he had been.” He paused again for dramatic effect. “So, he grabbed Zuko by his ponytail. And with one mighty blow to the face- ended the battle. Zuko fell to the ground displaying just how weak he was.”
Mighty Blow? Mighty?
As much as Sokka didn’t want to think about it, the scene played before his eyes. The large faceless figure that was the firelord grabbing a poor defenseless child by their hair in front of everyone. Weak? He couldn’t help but flair his nostrils. Ozai was the only one that was fucking weak. How else could anyone explain something so low? Cowardice? Complete and utter cowardice. Ozai didn’t deserve to be called a father.
But, why though? To feel important? Sokka pondered. How much of a fucking power trip did the Firelord even fucking need at this point? He was the Firelord. Lord of the fucking Fire Nation. Conqueror of the free world. What in the world did he even gain by hurting a kid?
Sokka wasn’t even listening to the rest of the story anymore. His mind playing and replaying the horrific scene in his mind. Ozai blasting Zuko in the face with fire. Zuko…
His rage was cooling down to a simmer from it’s previous boil. How could he hurt his own child? The question, in his head, was now asked out of sympathy rather than unadulterated rage.
And, then the tribesman wondered how a thirteen year old Zuko must have felt when he turned around. When the Prince saw the man he was so incredibly devoted to... standing at the end of the… isle? He must have felt crushed. Betrayed. Afraid.
Afraid…
He wondered if his father burning him that day had been the first time his father hurt him. Had it been a strike for simply daring to exist too obviously in his sight? Or was it a normal thing?
His stomach did a somersault. Twisting around uncomfortably. The pain was similar to hunger. But, he looked at his food and found that he definitely didn’t want to eat right now.
“You okay?” The woman asked looking genuinely concerned.
Sokka face must have shown a lot of unbecoming emotions. At one point, he must have been the perfect picture of rage. And now he had caught himself looking down sadly at his food. Probably, for a while now. And most definitely well after the old man finished his story. “Um yeah… uhhh….”
The imposter guard must have had a look of sympathy on his brow. How was he going to explain sympathy for the Prince? It was disgusting that he even had to…
“I get it” nodded the older man, “It’s always hard to hear someone disrespect our Lord in such a way.”
…they thought he was mad at Zuko? He was now actually afraid he might attack them. So, instead he nodded. And then got up to bow “Sorry. I’m not feeling well.” He grabbed his dinner roll as he took his leave. Now heading towards Zuko’s cell instead of his fathers.