Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Spirits were cruel.

Or, that’s how the elders always made them seem. To Sokka, he wasn’t sure how anyone could take comfort in them or the stories that surrounded them. They were messengers of disparity, catalysts of calamity, and often, a sign that the world was about to change. They were titans of power, sages of wisdom, but rarely did Sokka ever hear of their mercy. And such beings, they must not exist, right? If they did, surely he’d have seen one by now. After all, he was already seven, and he’d never seen one.

It didn’t help that his father held a similar opinion, which he couldn’t always hold back in private conversation when he thought his young son wasn’t listening. Hakkoda was of the belief that tales of spirits were good for moral, and it was always nice to cling to a belief when times were dark, but he preferred action. So then, he did too.

Besides, anything that was mystical seemed to belong to Katara. After all, she was the waterbender of the village. The adults practically celebrated her wherever she went. He couldn’t help but to turn his head and roll his eyes at the way the adult’s eyes lit up from seeing his sister bend water. For this reason she was the village darling, always whispered about by the adults with some quiet pride. They use to say Katara was a blessing by the spirits themselves. There’s been a gran aurora storm upon her birth.

The aurora was believed to be the bridge between their world and the world of spirits. It was how they’d cross to give blessings, visions, messages, or even come to take up offerings. Katara was their village blessing, they said.

“It’s not fair…” the young boy could be heard to mutter from within the family yurt. He was warming himself by the fire as his mother cooked, a frown apparent on his face.

“What’s not fair, my darling?” asked Kya, his mother, kindly. She continued to stir the pot that rested suspended above the fire. A fresh batch of sea plums were being stewed, and Sokka was hoping to get a taste of it.

“Katara’s bending,” he muttered, folding his arms. In the next moment he could be heard to whine, “She can’t even do anything with it, and everybody loves her. I helped dad with the boats and no one even said anything.”

The sort of help he provided, though impressive in his mind, was a very menial task. He was in charge of making sure the boats had been thatched together tightly so that water would not leak in-- an inspection performed at the side of his father, who was the actual judge. Still, Sokka was learning, and had even tied a rather impressive knot (a tangled mess of rope that took one of the men a half hour to undo.)

“They said that no one ties a knot like I do,” he said.

His mother smiled. She didn’t have the heart to tell her son that wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

“Your sister is the only bender in our village,” she explained gently. “We use to have many benders...we use to be much bigger. Others look to Katara as a sign for better, prosperous times.”

“What’s so great about bending?” he muttered.

“It’s a beautiful connection, between the elements and humans. It--”

“I don’t care,” he interrupted impatiently, folding his arms. Maybe it was the hunger, maybe it was that his toes were still cold and aching within his boots, or maybe it was because he was tired from having gotten up so early to help his father, or the fact that after helping he wasn’t allowed to go with them ont he hunt, but he was in a terrible mood. Despite this, his mother looked over to him with a leveled stare that told him he’d crossed the line.

His mother didn’t shout, she almost never got angry. Not many of the adults did, believing that displays of anger were for children, not something to be taken into adulthood. That stare, however, was enough to tell the young boy that he’d crossed the line. She sighed then, and lifting her arm, motioned for her son to scoot closer.

“Come here,” she said gently as he moved closer, leaning up against her warm body, which was wrapped in a soft parka. “What’s really the matter?” she asked, taking up a long spoon, and dipping it into the stew. She blew on it once or twice, before offering it to her son. He opened his mouth and took in the salty, umami, broth of the sea plums. He swallowed, before sighing.

“The spirits don’t care about me.”

“That’s not true.”

“Then why did they give Katara bending and didn’t give me anything?”

“The spirits might have other plans for you. Not everyone who has bending is great. That said, not everyone without it is forgotten. There are many great nonbenders in the world.”

“Like who?” he muttered.

“Like your father. Not a trace of waterbending, but we all look to him for guidance.”

Sokka blinked in realization, before turning his head up to her, eyes wide with hope.

“You can be great, even without bending. You can be a leader, a thinker, a navigator. You can be so much, my little one. I’m sure the spirits have something in store for you, just as much as your sister.”

He’d been on board until she’d mentioned the spirits. His frown returned and he looked into the fire.

“Spirits aren’t real,” he said, folding his arms.

“You’ve been listening to your father talk to your uncles, I see,” she chuckled.

“I only believe what I can see, hear, smell, and taste.”

“And there’s Uncle Bato’s influence,” she chuckled. “Well, if that’s so, what do you have in mind for your future?”

“I’m going to be the greatest warrior!” he exclaimed, “I’m gonna protect the whole village, and keep those nasty firebenders away!”

“Oh, my little warrior,” she smiled, wrapping her arms around him, “what a wonderful thing to be. A protector. That’s a great responsibility.”

“I can do it,” he said, smiling, revealing that he was missing a tooth.

“I believe you, but this means you’ll have to protect your waterbending sister as well.”

He paused, a moment that made Kya worry, before he gave a firm nod.

“Okay. She’s the only one we got-- and she’s my sister. I’ll protect her no matter what!”

“Thank you, my little warrior,” she said, hugging him again. He laughed and hugged her back.

The rest of the night had been peaceful, and their mother was pleased to quietly observe Sokka taking better care and consideration for his sister that night. The matter seemed to be settled, the family happy, and Sokka was secure in his decision. He would stop at nothing to become every bit as honorable and brave as his father, becoming a warrior that would protect his sibling and the village. He didn’t need the spirits if he had his witts.

So it came as somewhat of a surprise that that night, feeling secure in who he was, that he should be visited in his dreams.

He had awoken in a dark space, like the night sky with no stars. From there he turned, feeling eyes on him.

A spirit, the s size of an adult Sabertooth-Moose, peered down at him with glowing white eyes. It looked like an enormous wolf. The fur of the silent lupine gently floated in some undetectable wind, almost as if it were underwater. Lights like that of the aurora danced across the length of its body slowly. It was a mesmerizing display of light that he almost couldn’t look away from. He did in fact peel his gaze away to stare up at the creature’s face, who looked down at him screenly. It’s eyes were a blazing white, no pupils, and yet he knew without a doubt it was looking right at him.

Questions ran through the child’s mind, but he could not find his voice to speak. So awed was he by the white wolf, that he only watched as it lowered its great head, it’s large cold nose just inches from his chest. It huffed, and as it did, Sokka felt a chill, like a gust of arctic wind had hit him.

Snow drifted from the creature’s mouth, seeming to land on some invisible surface in front of the boy. The white flakes seemed to be floating in the air, but then a shining light illuminated from beneath them. A golden strand was running from within Sokka’s chest, outward. It winded out from him, and into the darkness. The spirit’s gaze seemed to follow it, even beyond what Sokka could see. Curious, Sokka put a hand on the string of light, only to feel it gently pull at his being as the weight of his hand came to rest on it. He couldn't feel it per say, not in the way one feels a course rope or a smooth wire beneath his fingers. It felt much more like a warmth with no surface.

He turned his gaze to the darkness. If one side was connected to him, what was the otherside connected to? The light faded entirely, and he no longer felt the tether in front of him, but somehow knew it was in his chest. He looked back to the creature, who seemed to be studying the boy quietly.

"H...hello?" he asked in greeting, reaching out to pet it. The great head of the creature lifted before he could touch it, and for a moment he worried that it was offended. It turned and began heading away, but looked back, as if to inquire if the young boy might follow. He did, nervously stepping forward, before he caught up to its pace and walked with it.

“Are you a spirit?” he asked.

Silence. Sokka waited a moment more, but the wolf acted as though it didn’t even hear him.

"Where are we going?" he asked up, but again it did not acknowledge him. Perhaps it couldn't talk, wondered Sokka. Was this really a spirit?

The darkness shifted from a black-void to that of a midnight-blue. Something opened up ahead of them. It happened so fast, in less than the blink of an eye, Sokka suddenly realized he was alone in a strange room he'd never seen before. It was night time, with moonlight gently flooding in from tall windows. The room was rather big, with a large bed in the middle of it, and an even larger wardrobe. The bed itself was a four poster, with a canopy hanging over it. Reds, golds, and blacks, decorated the room around him.

“Woah…” he whispered, looking around the regal looking bedchamber.

"Whose there?" asked a voice. It sounded like a boy, perhaps Sokka’s age. It surprised him, and he jumped, peering around in the darkness.

"Er...I am,” Sokka answered.

"Who?"

"Me!"

A shape shifted in the darkness, causing Sokka to jump and turn. From within the canopy of the bed, he could see someone sitting up. The form made Sokka’s heart jump in fear for a moment, until the sheer curtain was drawn back to reveal a boy his age. Black hair bordered his light face, with golden eyes that studied him with some trepidation.

"But who are you?" the boy asked again, “What’s your name?”

"Oh. I'm Sokka," he answered, looking around. "Is this your room?"

"Are...are you a ghost?" the other asked, a bit of fear to his voice. The boy frowned.

“Do I look like a ghost to you?” he demanded. The other nodded. Sokka blinked, then looked himself over. Light blue, and translucent, he did in fact seem like a ghost.

“Woah!” he gasped. “I do look like a ghost!”

“What do you want?” asked the boy, his voice harboring a slight tremble to it.

“Oh-- me? Nothing I...er...where am I?”

“You don’t know?”

“I just got here.”

“You’re haunting my room.”

“I’m not a ghost, I just look like one.”

“Yeah right! You’re a spirit trying to trick me.”

“Hey! I’m not a spirit! My name is Sokka, and I’m a human. Got it? I’m not a smelly- stinking spirit!”

The other’s eyes widened from his proclamation.

“If...if you’re not a spirit,” he said, carefully getting out of bed, “Then...then how come you’re here? What do you want?”

“Erm...I don’t know. A giant wolf brought me here. I was asleep back home, and then, suddenly I’m here. Oh hey-- that’s it. I’m dreaming.”

“You?”

“Yeah, I must be. This is too wild to be real.”

“No, I think I’m the one dreaming. After all, you’re in my bedroom,” said the other, folding his arms.

“Hey, you’re not dreaming me up, I’m dreaming you up!”

“Yeah right!”

“Yu-huh!”

“Nu-uh! What kind of a name is Sokka anyway?”

“Its Water Tribe,” he defended. “Besides, I didn’t even think up a name for you.”

“My name is Zuko.”

“That’s way weirder. Zu-ko .”

The young man frowned, as if to argue further, but an idea struck him then. He looked at Sokka with a kind of stare that made the other suddenly feel like a science experiment rather than a person.

“Wait...maybe we’re both real?” wondered Zuko. “Maybe...maybe the spirit that brought you here wanted us to meet.”

“Wanted us to meet? Why?”

“I don’t know,” the other frowned. “You don’t have a message or anything for me?”

Sokka shrugged, and the other sighed.

“Well...I guess we can just hang out until you wake up.”

“Not like I’ve got anywhere else to go,” he sighed. He went over the bed, and sitting on it, suddenly sat up right, before flopping back on it, arms out. “Woaaaahh...so soft…!”

Zuko wandered closer, still looking at Sokka with wonder. The boy sat up, looking at Zuko.

“Hey, quit staring.”

“Sorry,” he said, turning his gaze away. “I’ve just...never seen anyone like you before. Is everyone in the Water Tribe blue?”

“No! That spirit did something to me. I think my body is still in the south pole.”

“Hey, what’s it like?”

“The south pole?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, well, it’s cold.”

Zuko nodded, still listening as he came to sit on the bed next to him.

“Oh, and it’s huuuuge!”

“Huge?”

“Yeah! Lots of snow-- snow on everything, and ice everywhere. We go fishing in the sea, and sometimes there are lights in the sky…”

Without noticing, Zuko tucked his legs under him, his arms folded and his head resting on them as he listened to his new friend. His eyes watched Sokka as he spoke, the boy seemed so full of life, it was apparent that he loved his home.

“I wonder what it’s like, that place,” whispered Zuko when the other was finished. “It seems magical.”

Sokka snorted.

“Naw, it’s just really cold. What’s it like here?”

Zuko had begun to speak, when something caught their attention.

Somehow, without making a sound, the great white wolf had appeared. Just past it lay the yawning darkness of the void, where one of the bedroom walls should have been. Startled, Zuko nearly fell off his bed, but Sokka reached out and caught him by the wrist.

They looked to their hands. Somehow, even though Sokka was transparent, they could interact with one another.

“Woah, weird…” whispered Sokka.

“What is that?” Zuko asked, pointing to the wolf.

“Oh! That’s the spirit I told you about! They guided me here. Wanna meet them?”

Zuko hesitated and shook his head no.

“Oh come on, are you afraid?”

The boy nodded, and Sokka laughed.

“They’re friendly, come on,” he said, and still holding hands, led him to the spirit. Zuko remained behind his new friend as Sokak spoke. “I don’t know this spirit’s name, but if it led me to you, it must be good.”

“H-Hi…” said Zuko.

The wolf lowered its great head, and Sokka reached out a hand to pet it’s muzzle. The fur was a bit wiry, but still soft.

“See? Friendly,” Sokka encouraged.

Spurred on by his friend, Zuko stepped out from behind his friend, and gently put a hand on the muzzle as well, a small laugh escaping the boy.

“Wow...a spirit. I can’t wait to tell my uncle…!” he gasped.

The wolf raised its head, gently, and turned to walk away. After a few steps, it turned back to Sokka.

“Oh...I think I have to go now.”

"Go? Already?”

“Yup! Gotta go home, I guess.”

“Will you come back?" he asked.

"I dunno. Hold on let me ask," he said and turned, looking back to the tranquil spirit. "Can I come back to play with my new friend some time? Please?" he clasped his hands together, pleadingly.

The creature gave a short huff, as if amused, and gave a very short nod.

"Yes!" said Sokka, jumping to punch the air in victory.

"What'd it say?" asked Zuko.

"It said yes! So don't worry, I'll come back, ok?"

"Ok!" he grinned in response.

"Bye! I'll see you later!" called Sokka as he walked into the darkness. Zuko’s room suddenly faded from view.

The young boy was alone in the darkness, walking with his new spirit companion. He smiled. Boy was everyone-- even Katara-- going to be jealous when they hear about this.

----

The village the next morning was a buzz with strange whispers. The adults, Sokka noticed, were all quietly speaking to one another, their tones hushed as they looked to Sokka. This wasn’t the same manner in which they’d treated Katara, however. Their whispers were less joyful, their expressions darkened with a look of pity in their eye as they’d watch him pass.

Sokka walked through his small village, staying close to his dad’s side as he tried to make sense of the estranged hushed nature of his people’s gaze. He thought they’d be happy-- after all, he was visited by a spirit. Katara got a celebration, where was his?

He reached up and grabbed his father's hand, tugging on it as he whispered up to him,

"Why are they whispering?" he asked.

"It's...complicated," his father said back, his voice low but his tone light. "Some of the elders wanted to see you, ask you a few questions, that's all."

"Am I in trouble?"

"No, no," he said, removing his hand from his son's to pat his head. "It's just a few questions, they just want to check something."

This did little to make him feel better, but he stopped asking, feeling an anxious knott well up inside his stomach as he approached the yurt. They drew back the furs and tanned hide that made up for the door, and stepped in. It was a medium-sized room, allowing for the three elders, including his Gran-Gran, Kanna, and two other older men, to sit before a small fire. Hakkoda, his father, took a seat in front of the fire, and Sokka followed, his head bent as if in trouble.

"Good morning, Hakkoda," said one of the Elders. His name was Tonloq. He had a short snowy white beard, and kept his grizzled hair short and smoothed back. His bald spot was often covered by a snowy cap, but the warmth of the tent proved to be more than enough for those gathered inside. When he spoke again, his tone was even, but holding some sternness to it. "It was your son then? Not Katara?"

"It was," he replied with a nod.

"Interesting. And did you inform him why we requested his presence here?"

"I did not, Elder Tonloq, as I am...not sure exactly what this meeting is about either."

"Lights were seen in the sky last night," started Kanna, a gentle smile on her face. "They were seen in the pattern of blessing, forming a bridge that spirits might be able to travel from their world to ours. We believe one such spirit happened to visit our humble village last night."

"I was not aware…" said Hakkoda, his words dying as he seemed to think quietly to himself.

"With the Avatar's disappearance, it is possible he has been reborn several times over in this turbulent world."

"Wait, you don't think-"

"Just a moment," said Kanna, lifting a hand to hush him. "We simply wish to ask Sokka a few questions. Elder Aput?"

The third elder, a man with a rather long and braided beard turned and pulled a roll of skins. He carefully made his way to kneel before Sokka and unrolled the leather case, the sound of metal clinking together as it did. The boy's eyes grew wide at the sight of very fierce and sharp looking weaponry before him. The three weapons before him were as followed; a silver dagger with a blade that waved in stead of lay straight. A boomerang, black as obsidian and looking dangerously sharp to the touch, and last, an arrow, wooden and decorated with blue and white feathers, with jagged black designs along it. Sokka looked to the weapons, feeling his heart thump hard in his small frame, and looked to his father in quiet confusion and hesitation. His father shared the same questioning and uncomfortable look as he did, providing zero assurance.

"It's alright, Sokka," said Elder Aput, smiling gently at him. "Think of this like a game, we want you to pick one of the weapons before you."

"...do I get to keep it?"

The elder laughed, a smile playing on his lips.

"Perhaps, when you're older."

Sokka's gaze returned to the weapons before him. Unsure of what it was the elder's wanted from him, he looked the weapons over carefully. Then, looking over the familiar shape of the boomerang, he reached out and pointed to it.

"That one," he smiled. "Just like the one dad told me uncle Bato used to have when he was a kid. Remember?" Sokka asked, smiling up to his dad, who returned it with his own humored grin.

"Yeah, he loved that thing, until the Lion-Walrus snatched it from him and let it sink to the bottom of the sea."

Despite their shared happiness of the story, two of the elders seemed rather disappointed. Kanna, however, looked intrigued and was smiling all the same.

"So...I take it he failed?" asked Hakkoda, smiling knowingly.

"Failed?" exclaimed Sokka. "I didn't know this was a test!"

"It was a test dear, and you were not the one that failed, but us," said his Gran-Gran as elder Aput rolled the weapons back up and returned to his side of the yurt.

"I could have told you that," said Hakkoda, "Sokka has no bending ability."

"But Sokka did have a dream of a wolf last night," spoke elder Tonloq. "If this was not the spirit's intention, to mark the next Avatar, then we must decipher what it was."

Sokka could sense that his father was made uncomfortable by this, but the man said nothing and merely folded his arms.

"Now then," started Sokka's Gran-Gran, "Sokka dear, you said you had a dream of a wolf last night?"

"Uh-huh…" he nodded, hesitantly. He wished he could just leave and go out to play. Everything about this situation was so confusing and uncomfortable that he didn't want to think about it.

"Tell us what happened in your dream, dear."

After glancing at his father for his approval, he turned back and cast his eyes to the ground.

"Erm, I saw a big wolf and it took me somewhere."

"What did the wolf look like?" asked elder Aput.

"Like the celestial lights."

"Iwei..." gasped the elder.

"Who?" asked Sokka.

"Iwei," Kanna started. "Surely Sokka you remember the dances that were performed when your sister was deemed a bender? The stories we told that night? Iwei the light-foot is said to cross to our world to guide us."

"But never mind that," said Elder Tonloq. "What else did you see?"

"Erm, there was a weird part of my dream where there was a string running from my chest to somewhere, but I didn't see where. Oh! Then I went to a big room, with a huge bed, and really tall windows."

"Anything else?"

"Elder Tonloq, let him speak," Kanna interjected.

"I saw a boy," he offered with a shrug.

"A boy?" it seemed Elder Tonloq could not help himself this time. "What did this boy look like?"

"He was my age, and had black hair, and kinda golden-ish eyes. He was nice. We talked about my home. He said he’d never seen a place covered in snow before."

"You talked with him?" gasped Elder Aput. "Goodness, it was no vision, but an astral projection?"

"Sokka, you were guided to meet this boy, but do you know why?" asked Gran-Gran. He only shrugged and shook his head at his grandmother. "The spirit did not tell you?"

"It didn't talk, but I knew it wanted me to follow it. I even followed it back, but then I woke up."

The elders all looked to one another, exchanging glances of surprise and intrigue, before turning back to Sokka.

"And that's all?" asked Elder Tonloq, "You're sure? It said nothing of the Avatar or-"

"Goodness Tonloq," Kanna sighed in a whisper to him. "The boy has been interrogated enough. Sokka dear, do you want to go out and play?"

He very much wanted to leave this tent, and gave a quick nod.

"Then off you go," said said, smiling at him.

"O-kay!" he grinned, relieved that whatever this was was over. He stood up and tugged at his dad's sleeve, but his grandmother's words stopped him.

"Actually, your father will catch up with you in a moment. We just need to discuss a few more boring adult things."

Unsure, he looked to his dad, who gently removed the boy's hand from his sleeve and nodded to him.

"It's alright, I'll be right behind you," he said.

With a careless shrug, Sokka left the yurt and headed out.

Chapter Text

It was another week before he'd see his guide again. It approached him calmly, silent as snow fall.

"It's you!" Sokka exclaimed, and ran towards it from within the darkness. He ran up to it excitedly, but hesitated. “Erm...hey, so I told my village about you...but everyone was really weird about it. Do you know why?”

It did not reply, merely blinking down at him. 

“You don’t talk, do you?”

Silence.

“But you understand me, don’t you?”

It’s tail wagged, just slightly. He smiled at the sight.

 "So, if you’re here, does that mean-? Do I get to see-?" he peered up at the creature, bouncing on the balls of his heels with his fists bunched excitedly up by his face. It did not answer but turned and began to walk. The boy followed eagerly behind, humming as he went.

Like before, the darkness gave way to a large bedroom, dark, quiet, and still. Sokka entered the bedroom and looked around.

"Hello? Zuko?" he called.

“Huh? Whos’ere?” asked a sleepy voice, their body sitting up right.

“It’s me!” Sokka called, and leapt up, parting the curtain and landing on the bed. Zuko’s surprise gave way to glee, and he smiled over at Sokka.

“It is you! I thought you were just a dream.”

“Hey, we already went over this.”

“I know, I know. It’s just hard to believe, especially since I told my parents, and they said it was just a dream. My sister wouldn’t stop teasing me the whole day, either.”

“You have a sister too?”

“Yeah, and she’s a pain. All day she just wouldn’t leave me alone. She always begs me to play with her, and if she doesn’t get her way she tells mom, and then I have to play with her.”

“Sounds like my sister,” Sokka frowned, crossing his arms. “Katara always wants to play, and because she’s the special waterbender of the village she almost always gets her way.”

“You sister bends too, huh?”

“Yeah. It’s super annoying. She’s not even good at it and all the adults love her.”

“Azula’s already good at it, and all the adults love her. I could firebend before her, plus I’m older so--”

“Woah- woah, wait. Did you say...firebend?”

“Yeah?”

“You...you’re a firebender?”

“Of course I am,” he said, puffing out his chest. He’d thought at first Sokka was teasing him, but the expression on his face was not so much incredulous, as it was wary. This quieted Zuko, as he seemed confused. “...what?”

“I...I’m not supposed to talk to firebenders.”

Zuko’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“Why?”

“Because they’re evil,” he replied.

“I’m not evil.”

“But you’re a firebender.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m evil. Who told you firebenders were evil?”

“Well...they took all our waterbenders.”

“They...did?”

“Yeah. And they raided our neighboring villages.”

“That...that doesn’t sound right.”

Sokka remained silent, eyeing him.

“Well...well I’m not evil,” said Zuko. “I would never do anything like that.”

“You promise?”

“Absolutely,” he nodded. “And those people that took your people away-- they’re not Fire Nation. They must have been pirates. No one from here would ever be so evil. The Fire Nation is good.”

“I don’t know…” he frowned, looking away. 

“Look, I’ll swear it,” he said, holding out his pinky. Sokka looked to it with some confusion. “It’s a pinky promise,” explained Zuko. “You wrap your pinky around mine, and I swear that I’ll never hurt you.”

“Oh, like a warrior's oath!”

“Yeah!”

So, Sokka went ahead and wrapped his own pinky around Zuko’s.

“I, Zuko, promise to never hurt my friend Sokka,” he proclaimed.

“I, Sokka, promise to never hurt my friend Zuko,” he smiled.

“Great! Now that we made the oath, do you still think I’m a bad guy?”

“Naw, you’re all good now.”

Zuko smiled and laughed.

“Well, what do you want to do now?”

“I dunno...I kinda want to explore this place. Is it as big as your room?”

“Bigger, but I’m not allowed to leave until morning.”

“Why?”

“Uh, because I’m supposed to be asleep,” he laughed, eyeing him with an air of obvious.

“Oh, right,” laughed Sokka.

“Wait, I have an idea,” said Zuko, who quickly ducked off his bed. He grabbed his hair tie, and sloppily began to gather his hair and pull it back into a ponytail. Sokka watched as he then ducked under and grabbed something that was hidden beneath the bed frame. The child drew back with two wooden swords in hand. “Wanna play?”

“Woah! Wooden swords?” smiled Sokka.

“They were a present for my birthday this past summer. I used to play with Azula, but she started hitting too hard, so I hid them. As long as you promise not to hit me, we can play with them.”

“Yeah,” smiled Sokka, and he reached out and grabbed one.

The stood up on the bed and began to swing. The wood clacking as the fake swords were smacked together accompanied the laughter that ran through the night air.

Zuko’s attacks, spurred on by reckless abandon at how much fun he was having, were becoming more aggressive. Sokka was having some trouble keeping up with his swings, and tripped on a pillow. He fell out of view, yelling as he fell over the side. Zuko abandoned his sword then and ran to the side, jumping down to his friend’s side.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Zuko repeated with worry. “Are you okay? I’m sorry.”

“I’m fine,” smiled Sokka, sitting up. “I guess I don’t feel any pain when I’m dreaming like this.”

Zuko let out a breath.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled again, “I understand if you never wanna play again, even after I made that promise. Oh no! I broke the pinky promise!” he exclaimed.

“No you didn’t,” Sokka laughed. “You promised not to hurt me, and you didn’t.”

Zuko hesitated, looking him over.

“O-oh...yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right. You worry too much,” he laughed, standing. “Come on, I’m not done yet!” he said, and lifted his sword.

--

The dreams became more frequent, though Sokka had decided he wouldn't speak of it again. He didn’t like the way the adults had looked at him after he’d told them. Well fine, if they wanted to give Katara all their attention then they could. After all, he had his own secret, something only he had that he didn’t have to share with Katara. Sometimes it made him smile and humm, and when she’d demand to know why, he’d only tease her. She’d go stomping away, and he finally felt he had one over his special younger sister.

Eventually the whispers around him had stopped, after all, when asked he’d told them he’d never had that dream since. It was strange to see them hide their obvious relief, telling him to go play or that it was for the best. He wasn’t sure he understood why, exactly, but decided that telling the truth seemed to be more trouble than it was worth. 

Things went back to normal, relatively speaking. It was certainly easier to get Sokka to go to bed. Katara was the one who wanted to stay up late into the night, being told stories. He’d sometimes grumble that he was too old for stories

“Tell me the story of Iyu and Kohaku,” said the energetic voice of Katara. Sokka was over on his side of the sleeping quarters, rolling his eyes as he snuggled under the furs. He could hear their mother give a small chuckle of surprise.

“Iyu and Kohaku? Where on earth did you hear those names?”

“Elder Aput was talking about it, with Gran-Gran. It’s a story I’ve never heard, but Gran-Gran won’t tell it to me.”

There was a pause, which drew Sokka’s attention back to them. He sat up in his hammock, wondering what the quiet was about.

“Mom?” asked Katara.

“Oh...yes. Well, it’s quite a sad story. Perhaps when you’re older?”

“But I want to know now,” she’d whined. “What’s so bad about it? Is it scary?”

“No, just a little sad.”

Sokka, interested, propped himself up on his arm, wondering if his sister’s whining might win over their mother.

“Do people die?” she asked.

“Yes,” his mother nodded.

“How?”

Her mother sighed through her nose in that way where one tries to summon their patience, but was smiling at her daughter with genuine humor.

“My little waterbender. So fierce and strong-willed. I have a feeling you won’t let it go now, will you?”

“It’s not nice to keep secrets,” she answered, a slight pout to her voice. Their mother laughed.

“You’re right,” she said. “Alright, and I can see you’re keeping your brother up as well.”

Sokka smiled over and shrugged.

“Fine, both of you, lie down and I’ll tell you the story of Iyu and Kohaku.”

They did so, curling up in such a way where they still faced their mother as she began her tale.

“Many, many years ago, a beautiful and free-spirited waterbender from the Southern Water Tribe fell in love with a brave and clever huntsman from the Earth Kingdom.”

“ Ulch , is this a romance?” Sokka pipped up. His sister quickly shushed him.

“Keep going,” she urged her mother.

“Ulch…” Sokka stuck out his tongue but his mother continued.

“It was said that upon their first meeting, they ran to each other’s arms, as if they were lifelong friends. This, they said, was their tether.”

“Tether?” asked Katara. “What’s that?”

“It’s an invisible strand that runs from one person to another. It is a magical thing, something only the spirits can will into existence.”

Sokka shifted uncomfortably. A tether, was that what he saw running from his chest outward that one time? Their mother continued the story.

“Iyu of the Southern Water Tribe, and Kohaku of the Earth Kingdom quickly married, and lived in a little house together near the shore,” their mother had been smiling up until this point, but hesitated a moment. Her children watched her with interest. “But...one day, war broke out. War between the Earth Kingdom, and the Southern Water Tribe.”

“Alright, now it’s getting interesting,” Sokka smiled. “So they teamed up and brought down the Earth Kingdom together right?”

Their mother smiled at him for a moment, but there was sadness in her eyes.

“Not quite. War is a terrible thing, and it can divide even those who are tethered. Iyu returned to her home to aid her people, but Kohaku would not go with her.”

“Why?” asked Katara.

“It is said that Kohaku’s family were soldiers who were fighting in the war, and that he could not go to the other side.”

“But what about Iyu?”

“He loved Iyu, but upon her departure, he warned that should she leave, he would not hesitate to enlist.”

“What?” exclaimed Katara. “Why? He should have just gone with her. Didn’t he love her?”

“Love is a deeply complicated thing my dears,” she said. “We may love our tether, but we also love our family, our friends, and our home. It is impossible to choose one over the other, but sometimes we are forced to. Iyu left, and Kohaku enlisted. It is said they still visited each other in their dreams, trying desperately to force the other to stop. Some had said they waged a war asleep as they did awake. Kohaku advanced in the ranks, and Iyu became known for her ferocity and mastery of water bending. Then, one fateful day, they met again. But it’s very late, and I think you both--”

“Aww please!” begged Katara.

“Yeah, you can’t just leave it there,” said Sokka, sitting up. “What happened?”

“ Please? ” his sister begged again.

With a sigh, and a slow shaking of her head, the siblings thought perhaps the story was over for the night. Kya’s gaze rose to meet Sokka’s, and there was a sadness that he didn’t understand. Was she disappointed he was also asking? He was the oldest, so was it that he should know better. But no, it wasn’t that look, he’d seen that look before when stealing extra food, or pushing Katara head-first into a snow poff. This was something more, something that almost made him a little afraid, but she quickly turned her gaze before that feeling in him could grow.

“The two nations met on the battlefield of the neutral territory they were both fighting for,” she took in a deep breath, “both sides demanding the surrender of the other, claiming birth rights, historical claims, and legends of those long past that proved the inheritance of one people or another. Neither backed down. It was settled that, instead of war, the strongest of their warriors would dule for the islands. The Kingdom chose Kohaku, and the Southern Water tribe chose Iyu. 

 “ Lights of the aurora danced above as they fought. It was said there was a most awe-filled fight. Ice clashed with cold steel, lightning clashed in the sky,and the aurora streaked across the sky, as if the spirits themselves were watching this most tragic scene. It all happened so fast, until finally, and suddenly...they perished.”

“How?” Sokka found himself asking in a hushed whisper.

“I don’t know if it matters,” she said, shaking her head slowly, perhaps unwilling to say. “But it was said that in those final moments, they reached for one another, embracing each other as the snow fell around them. They passed on together, and left war, and the world, behind them.”

The children were silent as they thought of the sad tale they’d just heard.

“I think Kohaku shouldn't have enlisted. He never should have fought her,” said Katara.

“Maybe Kohaku was just trying to defend his family, and if he knew Iyu was out there hurting them he couldn't just let her,” Sokka defended. “But what I don’t get is why Iwei tethered them?”

“It isn’t always for us to say. However, their duel ended the war.”

“How?” asked Katara.

“The dule would decide the victor, once and for all.”

“But Iyu and Kohaku...they died together,” said Katara, thoughtful.

“No one won,” realized Sokka, sadly. “It was a draw.”

“That's right. That dule ended the war, then and there. No retalliations were made, and both sides agreed to a peace treaty that has been honored ever since.”

“Was their destiny really to die?” asked Sokka, sadly.

Their mother paused, considering her words before she finally spoke.

“We can never know. The only thing we can do is our best, and try to be open…” her gaze turned to Sokka, sadly. “Try to be open...and kind.”

She wished them goodnight, leaving the two children to their thoughts as they lay in the darkness.

He snuggled under the furs, his mind spinning with many thoughts about the war, his visits to Zuko. Suddenly, he was less excited to see his friend.

--

The story of the two tethers had stayed with the young boy for several days, and when Iwei once more visited him in dreams, he was a little more reluctant to leave so soon. Yet, he followed all the same, even if it was with less enthusiasm than before.

Soon enough they were at the bedchambers. From within the bed’s closed canopy he could hear sniffling, and muffled hiccups.

He quickly and quietly stepped closer to the bed.

“Zuko?” he called.

The young firebender lifted his head, wiping his eyes quickly.

“Sokka-- I didn’t hear you come in. I-I’m not crying,” he said suddenly.

“Yes you are.”

“Okay, I am,” he said, and drew the covers furthur over his head. Sokka frowned and pulled them back.

“Do you...wanna tell me why?”

“No…”

“Come on. Are you worried I might tease you?”

He didn’t answer, but it seemed that was the case. Sokka leapt up and sat on the bed next to his friend, sitting there silently until his friends spoke.

“I...I got yelled at,” he said.

“By who?”

“My father,” he answered, his voice so quiet Sokka almost couldn't hear him.

‘“What’d you do?” he asked. Sokka was no stranger to scolding himself, and knew the pain of shame.

“Nothing-- I thought. I was just practicing with one of my tutors. I was just...the ink pot spilled, and-- and he…” he started crying.

“Woah, slow down. The ink spilled on your tutor?”

“On my dad’s robes.”

“Huh?”

“He was sitting in. I wasn’t doing so well in arithmetic, and my father was there to watch the teacher, but I wanted to show my father how well I could solve the problems. I was nervous, my head was fuzzy-- I just couldn’t really think and then I...I accidentally knocked the ink over while they were talking. It got on my dad’s robes, and he...he said…” he hiccuped again, trying to hold back tears. “He said...he didn’t know why he wasted his time on me...and that Azula doesn’t need as much help as I do.”

“...that’s horrible…” whispered Sokka. “Why would he say that?”

“Probably because I’m a failure.”

“No way!” he frowned at him. “You are not a failure.”

“Azula never news help. Azula excels in all her classes, always does well at firebending. Father loves her best.”

Sokka looked to his friend with quiet astonishment at the news. In many ways, he’d thought their situations with their little sisters were similar, but his parents had never compared him to Katara. They’d always emphasized his importance as the older brother, encouraged his interests, and loved them more or less equally. Yet, the way Zuko’s father treated him seemed completely different.

“That’s so unfair,” said Sokka.

“You think so?” asked Zuko, wiping his eyes.

“Yeah, of course! He sounds really mean.”

“Don’t say that.”

“But he does. You once told me he got so mad at a servant that he threw a plate. It scared you so much you cried.”

Zuko didn’t say anything, only sat up and drew his legs in, hiding his face behind his knees.

“...you can come live in the south with me,” Sokka offered.

“No I can’t,” the boy muttered behind his knees. Sokka moved to argue, but even he couldn’t quite figure out how to move his friend from so far away all the way to his home. He went silent.

Zuko lifted his head and took in a breath.

“But...thanks,” he said. “It’s not so bad. Mom is here, and I can’t just leave her.”

“She sounds nice.”

“She is...what’s your mom like?”

“Nice.”

“And your dad?”

“Also nice.”

Zuko went quiet.

“Do you...ever wonder why we’re friends?” asked Zuko. Sokak turned to him, confused.

“No? Do you?”

“Kinda,” he shrugged. “I mean, how come a spirit brings you here? Do you know?”

The story from earlier played on Sokka mind, and he chewed his lip int thought as he contemplated his answer.

“Erm...I think we’re tethered.”

“Tethered?”

“Yeah.”

“What does it mean to be tethered?”

Sokka shrugged.

“I dunno, but that’s what we are.”

“Oh.”

They went quiet again. Sokka scooted closer to his friend, and leaned on him. Zuko looked over, shocked for a moment.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“When Katara’s crying, sometimes she doesn’t always like being cheered up. Sometimes she likes it when I just sit next to her. So…”

Zuko’s answer was to settle into his friend’s body, with them leaning against one another quietly. 

Chapter Text

The day had been normal. It had started with the sun rise, with the men rowing out on their smaller boats to fish. It had begun with his mother’s soft humming as she prepared breakfast for them, with Katara whining and tugging on Sokka’s arm and begging him to play snowball war with her. It had begun with their mother’s kiss on their foreheads, telling them not to get too rambunctious and her whispering that he should go easy on his sister this time.

How could it have all ended in such tragedy? How could he have known that in the middle of such an average day, that the Fire Nation would attack? That by the end of the day, he’d be left without a mother. Fear from the initial invasion had fled into something more cold, a hollowing pain that ate at his chest, where tears seemed to pour endlessly from his eyes.

How could she just suddenly be gone? Simple as it was, it didn’t make sense, until finally it clicked in him, and grief creeped in.

Several days after their mother's funeral, Iwei again appeared in his dreams. The boy, now ten, was exhausted. His grief leeched any energy his youth would naturally supply. Standing up from the darkness, he wobbled on his feet, and fell forward. The snout of Iwei was there for him to hold onto before he collapsed.

"Thanks…" he said, his voice tiny and sad. It helped right him, like he was a tiny foal, and then turned to start walking. "Actually," Sokka called to it, causing it to stop. 

"Can we...I don't want…" he grabbed his arm in silent hesitation.

The wolf's ear flicked and it turned its head, then tilted it, as if to inquire why.

 "Because...Zuko isn't he...isn't he Fire Nation?"

It remained unmoved.

"Something bad happened and...the Fire Nation, they took-" his voice choked up with a sob before he could get the word out. He squatted down, hugging his knees as his words gave way to sobbs.

"Sokka?" called a voice.

He looked up, surprised by his sudden surroundings. Zuko was sitting up in his bed, looking down at him. Iwei was gone, disappeared completely. 

Immediately the young Fire Nation boy threw off his covers and leapt out of bed. He ran around it and to Sokka, alarmed.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Stop!"

"Huh?" Zuko came to a halt a few feet away from him, teetering off balance for a moment before catching himself.

"Just...stay back!"

"What? Why? Are you okay?"

"No."

"Let me help you."

"No! I don't want your help! You're Fire Nation and I hate you!"

The boy stared at Sokka, shocked by this.

"...what did I do?" Zuko asked, sadly. "Just...tell me what I did wrong and I can fix it."

"No, you can't. You can't fix it."

"But why? Sokka, what's wrong, please!"

With another sob, the Water Tribe boy wiped his eyes and cried,

"The Fire Nation came. They came to the village-- they attacked us! There was black snow and--"

"The Fire Nation?! Are you sure?"

"There were so many soldiers. People were screaming, everybody was so scared and mom- she-" his hiccups cut him off, and he struggled to speak. "She's gone!" he finally choked out.

"Gone? They took-"

"They killed her!" he said.

“Killed…!” he stared at his friend, eyes wide with confusion, fear, and panic. His heart raced, and yet despite this he found he could not move. The sound of his friend’s sorrows froze him there. He thought to speak, but could not, his mouth only opening and closing clumsily, with no voice to aid it.

He watched his friend stand up, still wiping his eyes, still crying. He could not stop his feet from moving him closer, could not stop his hand from raising up to reach for him. He wanted these terrible noises to stop, for his friend’s pain to cease. He’d closed the distance. The other had noticed the movement, and had looked up from his balled up fists, looking to his hand. Suddenly afraid, Zuko drew his hand back, hesitating.

“I...I’m sorry,” he managed to say.

Sokka sobbed again, and then suddenly flung his arms around his friend. Alarmed, thinking he was being attacked, the boy froze, but no-- Sokka was hugging him.

Zuko had never had anyone cry into him before. He'd seen his sister cry, but she was strong and willful, and often would push him away if she were ever caught with tears. So this, feeling his friend's hot face field with terrible sadness, this was new, and scary. Still, he brought his arms up and hugged him back. It was a light touch, uncertain and filled with trepidation. As the seconds went on though, his embrace became more sure, more present, and he too felt as if his chest was hollowing. He'd never heard anyone cry like this, and he didn't need to think too hard to know he never wanted to hear it again.

They'd remained like that for a while, eventually sitting down, with Zuko's arm still over Sokka's shoulders, even as they went quiet. Sokka’s sobbs eventually quieted down, but he remained crying. The silence made Zuko nervous, but he remained, his mind racing for some explanation as to why such a thing would happen.

“I miss her…” Sokka whispered quietly.

“I’m sorry.”

“Have you ever lost anyone?”

“No.”

They went quiet again.

“Why did it happen?” Zuko asked.

“They were looking for waterbenders.”

“Was your mom a bender?”

“No.”

Silence.

“If I was there...I never would have let that happen.”

“You’re a kid, just like me. What could you have done?”

“I...I don’t know…”

“Not even dad could save her.”

Silence gave way to grief once more between the two. 

“Dad’s going to leave.”

“Why?”

“To fight in the war.”

The Fire Nation boy’s heart plummeted in his chest.

“But...why would he leave you? Who’s going to take care of you?” he asked.

“I can take care of myself,” said Sokka, suddenly pushing off of Zuko. He whipped his nose, and after a beat, turned slightly back to him. “...and Gran-gran is gonna take care of us.”

“Oh. How long will your dad be gone?”

“Until the wars over.”

“That could take forever! It’s been going on for almost a hundred years.”

“Well-- then he’ll end it!” he said, fiercely turning back. Zuko held his hands up apologetically.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to--”

“My dad is a fierce warrior! He’s smart, and the leader of our village, and strong, and...and…” his words gave way to cries once more. But before Zuko could speak to sooth his friend, Sokka wiped his eyes and stared back at him fiercely. “He’s gonna kick the Fire Lord’s butt!”

Zuko stared at him with wide-eyed shock.

“And if you were my friend, you’d agree with me!” he demanded.

The boy’s mouth opened to respond, but he couldn’t find the words.

“I...can’t.”

Now it was Sokka’s turn to stare in shock.

“Wha...why?”

The guilt knotted up inside him, and he was too afraid to speak. He only shook his head. Sokka pushed him, angry.

“Fine! Then I don’t wanna be your friend anymore!”

“Wait, Sokka,” he said, but the boy stood up and away from him.

“No! You’re either with me or against me!”

“I’m with you, I’m with you! It’s just...maybe...there can be a truce?”

“A truce?”

“Yeah, maybe both sides could just stop fighting?”

“Like that’ll happen…”

“It might,” he offered.

The will to argue left the young boy, and he merely sighed and sat back down.

“I don’t understand why we’re even at war, do you?”

“No…” said Zuko.

They both went quiet.

----

Zuko let out a great yawn that he could not hold back at the breakfast tabel the next morning.

“Oh my,” came the voice of his mother to his right, “that’s the third yawn so far. Are you feeling alright?”

Ursa was a tall woman, with jet-black hair that ran long and down her back. The crown of her hair was drawn up into a royal top to show that she was of the royal family. 

“I didn't sleep well,” he admitted, rubbing his eyes.

“Momma, momma,” said Azula, “look-- look what I can do!” she said, before setting a vase of flowers on fire.

“Oh,” her mother groaned, waving in the servants to quickly put it out, “Azula, we’ve been over this. You cannot firebend at the table.”

“Master Ishikawa says it’s hard to set greenery on fire because they’re wet but I can do it. Did you see? They were in water and everything and I can still set it on fire, did you see?”

The servants were quick to pick up the flaming vase and hurry out of the room with it, a trail of smoke following them.

“Enough, Azula. That’s dangerous. Stop it or you’ll be sent to your room instead of going out to play.”

The young girl’s happy smile had retreated to a deep frown. She sat back in her chair, folding her arms and pouting as she stared at her almost untouched breakfast. Ursa’s attention turned back to her son, who was merely poking at his food with his utensils.

“Dearest, what’s the matter?”

“I just had a bad dream and it kept me up.”

“What a baby,” Azula teased.

“Am not!” Zuko shot back.

“Azula, that’s one,” she said. Ursa often counted three strikes before carrying out punishments. Zuko would normally stop at two, never wanting to see three, but Azula was the kind to push it. Still, it worked more often than not, and the young girl merely shoved a sweet bun in her face as she scowled at the table.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she offered to her son.

“Erm...well…” he set his metal chopsticks down and let out a breath. “In my dream I had this...this friend. And his mom died.”

“Oh, how sad,” she said. He nodded in return.

“Yeah, and she died because...because of us. Because of our nation. And he was mad at me at first-- but then he wasn’t and he was crying so much--”

“Zuko, honey, shhh, it’s okay,” she said.

“But it’s not-- his mom is gone.”

“Sweetheart, it was just a dream.”

He hesitated, his gaze falling.

“Y...yeah...but even still…”

She studied her son, before finally coming to some conclusion dn looking to her daughter.

“Azula,” she started.

“I didn’t do anything,” she defended.

“No, no, dear. Do you want to go play?”

“Yes!” she said, suddenly bright and alert.

“Go on, you’ve done a good job eating enough.”

Not wanting to stick around for her brother’s soppy mood she quickly pushed her chair out front the table and ran swiftly away and out the room. As the young girl’s footsteps faded, Ursa then turned then to the waiting servants.

“You are all excused,” she announced. Bowed as they were already in waiting, they bowed deeper, before filling out of the room. Zuko looked about the empty room. It was rare that the servants were ever excused like this. He turned back to his mother, who’d turned completely in her seat and was looking at him.

“Dear,” she started, “does this have anything to do with the boy you saw in your dreams several years back?”

He hesitated, but then gave a very short nod. Though her expression had not changed noticeably, he thought maybe that there was sadness in her eyes.

“The Water Tribe boy?” she asked again. He gave a small nod, and she let out an awed breath. “I see…”

“You believe me?” he asked.

“Yes, but...you must never tell your father or your sister you still dream of him, you understand?”

“Yes,” he nodded, remembering how irritated his father had gotten the last time he’d spoken about it.

“Good...good,” she nodded.

“But, mom, what should I do?”

“Well dear...I...I’m not sure. This is a complicated issue. Even I wouldn’t quite know what to do.”

“Then it’s hopeless, I can’t make him feel better and he’ll be sad forever.”

Seeing his dower expression, she frowned in thought. How to make her son happy, when she didn’t have the answers, weighed heavily on her mind.

“Well...in life there are no easy answers. But, an open heart, and an open mind, might just be what he needs.”

“...really?” he asked.

“It’s all we can do right now.”

“Mom, what is this war over? Why are we at war?”

She hesitated again, unsure of how to answer him. She cleared her throat.

“We are...well it’s...complicated.”

“Why? Did the Water Tribe do something?”

“No...no.”

“Then how come?”

A new voice entered the conversation, cutting of whatever explanation Ursa had come up with.

“Because the Fire Nation is sharing it’s wealth and knowledge with the world,” said a stern voice, causing both to turn to the dining room doorway. Ozai stood there, his usual scowl present on his face.

“Dearest…” Ura began, standing and putting on a cheerful front. “You are finished with your morning meeting. I did not expect you to be done until--”

“We are in recess due to General Liu’s blasted gout,” he said, drawing closer. “But did I hear correctly, was my own son questioning the motives of his nation?”

“No sir!” he said, and quickly stood, bowing to his father. “I...only had a question.”

“And you think your lazy mother could answer such questions? Pah,” he scoffed and went to the table, picking up a small bun. “If I ever hear you questioning you beloved nation again I’ll double your tutoring and show you exactly what happens to deserters and traitors.”

Zuko swallowed, already trembling.

“He is a child,” insisted Ursa, though in the next moment her manner became more docile as he turned his gaze on her. “And...as such, children have many questions. Do you not think it's grand that your son wants to know as much as he can about his beloved country? That he would ask it’s history and know of the family legacy?”

This seemed to cool Ozai’s temper down to less than a simmer. He merely eyed her, before setting the sweet bun back down and drawing his hands behind his back. She bowed sweetly to him, and he caught her by the chin. Zuko watched, anticipating the worst, but his mother only smiled lovingly at her husband, unaware in his age that it were a mask to placate her husband.

“You have a pretty tongue, dear,” he said, “fit for telling fairy tales and sweet nothings, but that’s about it.”

He pulled her gently so that he might plant a kiss on her cheek, and then let go. Without a second glance at his son he walked away, and back into the hall.

“...Go play, Zuko,” she said.

“But mom--”

“Zuko,” she said, her face turned from him, but stern.

He didn’t dare argue, and only nodded, before turning and walking out of the room.

----

Keeping his mother’s words in mind, Zuko made sure to be as open and patient with his friend as possible. Time passed, and little by little, without them noticing too much, Sokka began to cheer up again. His mind had become preoccupied with the fact that he was the man of his village. All the adults told him so. 

Things had gone back to normal, and Zuko was thankful for it. He was happy to have his friend back, happy that they could talk about other things, play games, and forget the world.

Bu the world had a way of interrupting even that most secret of meeting places.

When the boys were eleven, tragedy had struck again. This time, it was Zuko’s turn to feel the loss.

His cousin, Liu Ten, had died in the war, and as soon as news had reached home, everything seemed to spiral out of control. Soon after his grandfather, and Fire Lord of the Nation, died. They said he’d passed quietly in the night, but that wasn’t what he grieved. His mother had disappeared entirely, and everybody who would know refused to tell him.

"So she's just...gone?" asked Sokka.

It was night, the two of them sitting together a week after his father’s coronation.

Zuko nodded numbly in response. He had not told him everything, only that she was gone.

“And nobody knows where she is? Why doesn't your father look for her?”

"Father says that she’s been banished, that where she goes is no concern of the court, so long as she doesn’t come back."

"Banished!" exclaimed Sokka. "Jeeze...but, how come?”

“I don’t know,” he breathed.

“Did she commit a crime? Steal? Or--”

“She’d never do any of that!” he said, his temper flaring in an instant.

“Okay, okay,” he said, holding up his hands. “I’m just...confused.”

“Yeah, well, now you know how I feel,” he muttered, his gaze cast to the ground.

“If she didn’t do anything wrong, then why did the Fire Lord banish her?”

“I don’t know, he won’t tell me.”

“He won’t tell you?” he asked, crinkling his nose.

“He won’t say a word. He just tells me to keep my head down, and that I better not mention her anymore. Even Azula acts like she never existed, and it drives me crazy--”

“Zuko. How do you know the Fire Lord?”

The question pierced through the air, though he had not raised his voice. It had silenced Zuko. His hand instinctively raised to cover his mouth, as if to shove that secret back into his being. His wide, amber eyes turned to look at Sokka, who stared back with wary curiosity.

He could see the gears turning in the mind of his clever friend, as his eyes began to wander from Zuko, to the fine bed sheets, to the canopy around the bed, the gold that adorned the frame of the changing screen. It was as if he were only seeing this room for the first time.

“...no,” said Sokka, who, alarmed, stood from the bed and took a step back. “No...you’re not...you can’t be…!”

“Sokka,” pleaded Zuko, standing up. “Sokka, whatever you’re thinking--”

Sokka’s gaze came to rest on the small golden hair ornament that rested on Zuko’s nightstand. He approached it, as if seeing it more clearly would give him a definitive answer, but before he could reach it, Zuko  turned back and grabbed. He swiftly threw it into a drawer and shut it as if, once out of view, Sokka might forget about it. He stood there, panicking, his mind scrambling to try and figure out how to fix what he was sure was now broken.

“Sokka,” he said, turning, “it’s not my fault-- I didn’t want to become prince. My Grandfather-- he died-- my father wasn’t even in line to be Fire Lord, that was my uncle--”

“You’re a part of the royal family...you knew,” he said, his breathing starting to pick up. “You knew-- everything I was saying about the Fire Nation-- you never spoke up.”

“I-I didn’t think it mattered at first-- and then your mom died and I knew you wouldn’t--”

“Was it you?” he cut him off, “did you tell someone my tribe had a waterbender? Is that why it was raided?”

“No! I would never!”

“Liar!”

“Sokka, I mean it! I would never tell-- my father didn’t even believe me when I first told him about you, and my mother made me swear never to talk about you again.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know but she seemed scared. She made me promise. No one knows about you and me.”

He wanted to be angry, he wanted to disregard Zuko’s words and just be mad at him, but he could not deny the sincerity and sadness within those guilty eyes.

“Why…?” he croaked out as sorrow tore at his heart. “Why…?” he pleaded again.

The prince was unsure how to answer, unsure of what exactly was being asked.

He backed away, shaking his head as he stared sadly at the ground. Zuko watched, and was surprised by the sight of a gigantic wolf in his room, with glowing white eyes. Sokka’s back, seemingly unaware of the great beast’s presence. It peered over him and down at the prince. Zuko’s mouth opened just slightly in awe of the living creature of light.

“I wanna go home…” Sokka whispered, seemingly to himself, as if unaware of the spirit behind him. And then, suddenly, in the blink of an eye, Sokka’s blue, translucent figure disappeared.

“Sokka!” he called-- only to find he was suddenly sitting up in his bed, his hand outstretched. He blinked, certain that just a moment ago he was lying on the floor.

The spirit must have taken Sokka home and away.

----

      Sitting up in the early morning light, he turned and looked to the sleeping figure of his sister in her hammock. She was still asleep it seemed. He lay back, but found himself wide awake, his mind buzzing with questions.

Zuko was more than simply Fire Nation, he was next in line to rule it. Zuko was his best friend, his only real friend outside of his family. He'd helped Sokka grieve his mother, and he'd helped Zuko in return when his father- who apparently was the Fire Lord-had yelled at him unfairly, scolding him, and being horrible.

He didn't know what to think and he needed advice.

He dressed quietly and quickly, and picked himself up, heading out of the yurt and to the shores to the antarctic seas. There, on her early morning walk, was Sokka's Gran-Gran, who stopped to watch her eleven year old grandson just breach the crest of the hill and make his way down.

They walked along together in silence for some time, until Kanna asked,

"Something on your mind, dear?"

"Sort of…" he mumbled, bending down to pick up a smooth rock front he shore.

"Care to share?"

"I...I was wondering, do you remember when I was little, and I had that dream about the wolf?"

"Certainly. You caused quite the fuss with that," she said, smiling.

"Afterward, you and the other Elders, you were talking to each other with dad. Did you...did you ever figure out why I was dreaming about it?"

"Hmm…" she put a gloved hand to her chin in thought. "Strange that you should ask such things now, m'boy. Something happen?"

"No, just curious. Cuz, you know, that spirits stuff is...it's whatever."

"You don't care much for it, I see," she chuckled.

"Naw, never have."

"Why is that?"

"Well...it's not like it's ever really helped us. Spirit's don't...they don't help us, do they?"

"What makes you say that?"

"Well that wolf- it shows- showed me that boy, but it was never clear about why. And...and from the way I described him, I mean, you know he's…?"

"Fire Nation," she finished, her tone even and uncompromised.

"Right...so...why do you think it showed him to me?"

"Do you still see Iwei? Does it visit you?"

"S-sometimes. Yeah."

"And do you see that boy?"

"...yes."

The sound of ocean waves filled the silence.

"You are conflicted. I understand."

"Why could the spirits possibly want me to meet him? He's the enemy."

"He is also, your Spirit's Tether."

Sokka went quiet.

“What does it mean...to be someone’s tether?”

"A Spirit's Tether, is sometimes referred to as a soulmate."

"You...you're joking, right? Please tell me you're joking."

"I am quite surprised myself," she chuckled, "that you would end up with a boy liked that is some luck, but as destiny is woven for us it is not our place to question why."

"No, I think this is definitely a "why" moment, Gran-Gran."

A pause.

"Actually, you're probably right. This one's a real head-scratcher my boy," she chuckled. Sokka did not share her humor.

"What am I supposed to do then? I mean, that's not a certain thing, is it? You're only guessing, right?"

"Such travels at night are taken by Iwei the light-footed, who guides spirits to where they need to be, what they need to see, and who they need to meet. It had been said Iwei leads those who are tethered and help them meet by his divine provenance. Some say Iwei himself is the one who ties those bonds. I cannot say every meeting or bond is always a happy one, but I do know, it is always for a reason."

Sokka had been scowling as she'd spoken.

"My dear," she said, stopping and turning to take hold of one of his hands. She lifted it, clasping his gloved hand in her, and she smiled. "Don’t let it worry you too much. Or at least, do not allow this burden to be carried by yourself alone. Your family is here to help you, and the spirits will always be there to guide you."

Despite her cheerful and loving tone, Sokka felt his stomach knot with guilt. How well would his family take the news that his Spirit's Tether was the Prince of a kingdom whose people raided their village, stole their Water Benders, and murdered their mother. Such news would certainly not go over well with Katarra, and his father...what would his father think?

He squeezed his grandmother's hand gently in return and looked at her.

"Um, is it okay if we just keep this a secret between you and me, for now? I want...I want to wait until I'm ready to tell people."

"Of course, Sokka. Your journeys with this young man is your own."

"Thanks," he said, smiling despite the storm that now thundered in his mind over the news.

--

Another few years had passed bringing with it more bad news. Two of the Elders had passed on, leaving their Grandmother as the only remaining one of the council to run the village. In that time, his father had been called to war. As it had been explained to both Sokka and Katara, the war that seemed at first so far off was steadily making its way to them, and it was only a matter of time before it reached the desolate and struggling shores of the Southern Water Tribe.

His visits with Zuko had been far and few in between since his discovery of his royal identity. The times he had visited had been stilted in conversation. He’d taken time to consider his friendship with the boy, and since then they’d talked. All in all, Sokka wasn’t ready to end anything yet, and Zuko seemed reluctant as well. They decided they just wouldn’t speak of the war, of anything controversial, but it did leave the visits feeling somewhat hollowing afterward.

“Do you think we’ll ever meet in person?” asked Zuko, once, as they lay together on his bed, staring up at the darkness wishing there were stars.

“It’d be pretty weird,” said Sokka, “since you’d probably be the one to come to the South Pole, right?”

“Why couldn’t you come here?”

“Yeah right, I’d need a big ship or something. Even then it’d take forever.”

“It’d take forever for me too. Man, it’d be better if we could just fly.”

“Ha! How?”

“I don’t know, some kind of flying machine or something? It was said that the Airbender could fly.”

“Yeah, well…”

Things went stiff and quiet once more, the ghost of the war nipping at the heels of their conscience.

“Flying would be easier,” Sokka admitted, to end the uncomfortable silence. “You do anything interesting today?”

“No. It was all tutoring and lessons.”

“...Hey,” started Sokka, a lump forming in his throat at the thought of the question. “Do you know what you’ll do when you’re Fire Lord?”

Zuko’s pause gave way for the other’s nerves.

“Do you mean will I end the war?”

“Yeah.”

“I hope I won’t have to,” shrugged Zuko. “Whatever’s happening will end soon, hopefully.”

“It’s been going on for one hundred years.”

“I thought we said we weren’t going to talk about it.”

“I know, but come-on ,” sighed Sokka. 

“What’s with you?”

“What’s with you? You act like this war isn’t even happening. Like everything’s okay-- but it’s not. My dad is still out there.”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay,” said Zuko, curing up into himself. “I don’t have any say in the matter. It’s not like I attend the war room meetings, alright? I’m not the Fire Lord, and I can’t just tell my dad to end it.”

“ I know but--”

“But what? ” he demanded and rose to his feet. “I’m not Fire Lord! But that doesn’t matter to you, does it? Because that’s all you see me as now. The Fire Lord’s son. Are we even friends, or do you just come here because you have to?”

The other stared at him in stunned silence. His gaze shifted shamefully to the floor.

“You’ve been different ever since you found that out. It’s like you don’t even see me, all you see is...an enemy.”

“No! You aren’t my enemy,” he said, immediately sliding off his bed. “Look, I’m sorry. Things have really been hard for my village these past few years. My dad wasn’t the only one that left, but my Uncle, and all the men of the village. And then the elders passed and now there’s only a handful of us and...I’m scared,” he admitted the last part quietly. 

Zuko’s gaze shifted to the ground.

“It’s been hard for me too. Because we’re at war, more’s expected of me. I’m supposed to be perfect, I’m supposed to be a son worthy of honor, but it’s been Azula who seems to be the gifted one. Azula’s always been more talented than me. Better grades, better Fire Bending, everything," he said, his temper rising. "And that was okay when mom was still around-- but she's not. She's gone! So I need to be better, I need to be stronger, I need tt show father I'm worth his time. I'm the son he deserves, that he can be proud of.” then suddenly, as if remembering he weren't alone, he turned back to Sokka, his eyes wide. “You understand, don’t you?”

He stared at the prince, who seemed so sad, so desperate. It scared him slightly, though he could not place why. His friend would never hurt him, of that he was sure. 

“Yeah…” nodded Sokka. “Sorry for...bringing it up.”

“It’s alright...let's...talk about something else.”

“You know, being a prince does sound hard. My offer to come live with us in the South Pole still stands.”

Zuko stared at him a moment, before releasing a huff. 

“Not unless you’ve got a flying machine.”

---

Sokka walked back with the spirit, as usual. This creature had been his chaperone through the darkness for years, never saying a word each time. 

“Hey,” Sokka chanced, “Iwei,”

The wolf’s ear flicked in recognition of its name.

“So, you’re a spirit huh. What’s that like?”

Silence.

“I guess you don’t talk, do you? Do Spirit’s ever talk, or was that just a thing they say in stories and songs to make this less...complicated?”

A quiet huff.

Well, it seemed it understood him, but perhaps was giving him the silent treatment.

“If you can understand me, can you at least tell me...why Zuko?”

To this the beast did stop and turned, looking back at him over his shoulder. It was quick to face him, and lowered it’s big furry head, sniffing at Sokka’s chest. Its breath was cold as ice, causing frost to form on his front. It drew its head back and sat, looking patiently at the empty space before Sokka. The Water Tribe boy followed the wolfs gaze and saw a little thread before him, like he had seen upon their initial meeting.

“This thing again,” he muttered. “Look, about this, I once heard that you can undo these things. There’s like, a whole tragic story or whatever that goes with it. So, do you think you could do me the favor, huh?”

Iwei charmingly cocked it’s head to the side.

“It’s not that I don’t, er, appreciate(?) this whole guiding thing, I just think that maybe it’s better if I stop seeing the guy.”

It huffed the smallest bark.

“It’d be fine if there wasn’t a whole-- you know-- war! With our nations going on. And--jeeze, the Prince! You had me meet the prince of that place! I mean, did you even consider for a minuet how I’d feel about all this? How confusing this is? I can’t tell anyone about him, you know-- and worse, that probably makes me a traitor. A traitor ! To my village, my people...my sister,” he frowned, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just...tell me what I’m supposed to do. Tell me why you’re having us meet. What am I supposed to do?”

The antics had stopped, and it peered down at him as silent and cold as the distant mountains. Sokka’s temper flared up in the next moment.

“See! This is exactly why I don’t like Spirits!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “All silent treatment and destiny but no real answers. You know what? Keep you destiny, I don’t want it,” he threw a hand. “In fact, I wish I’d never seen you, never met him,” he bluffed, mostly to himself. “So...there.”

It remained still a moment more, before quietly getting up and walking further into the darkness, it’s light fading with distance.

“Ack! Hey wait! Don’t leave me here!” he called and clumsily followed after it. 

--

Thirteen. They were thirteen, and felt so tired. Iwei had not visited Sokka in two years. He did not know why, and worried it was due to their last conversation. He had thought Iwei hadn’t taken much mind to what he’d said, but perhaps it had actually listened. There was a feeling of guilt around that, given his last conversation with Zuko had been assuring him that they were in fact friends.

Two years apart had landed him with some strange nostalgic feelings, and he missed Zuko. There were time’s he’d stare off into the horizon, thinking about the prince, the war, all of it. Katara would tease him out of his staring state, adn life would resume to an existence of waiting for their father’s return and the end of the war.

Then one night, his curiosity seemed to beckon Iwei’s presence, as the light-footed traveler emerged from the darkness, it’s ears perked and listening.

“Iwei?” asked Sokka, walking closer to the spectral being. “Everything okay?”

The spirit lifted its large head and howled. The noise that came from it was sharp, yet booming, and he could feel it ripple across this space like it too were a living thing. The boy covered his ears, confused and alarmed.

“Iwei! What’s wrong?” he called over the sound. Then, something began to tug at Sokka, and he opened his eyes to see the thread extend from him again. It was a golden color now, emanating a shining light much brighter than ever before. Iwei howled, and the changing teal to white to shades of purple and blue light from Iwei also grew brighter with it. Sokka felt the line give a tug, and while it didn’t hurt, it did unnerve him. 

He knew instinctively who was tugging on the other end. He took off running, following the direction of the line, which neither slacked nor coiled, but he could feel the desperate tug at it.

Something was wrong, he could tell, something terrible was happening. Something painful-- something awful and fearful. He could hear screams, could feel heat that stung his skin, drawing sweat from him almost immediately.

Iwei was behind him, howling after him, but he could not turn back, not now, not when Zuko seemed to need him. It was like running through a hot sauna, and he gasped for air. The tether gave a sharp and awful pull, knocking his breath out of him and sending him to topple to the ground. Fire spring up and all around him, accompanied by screams-- no cheers. He could hear cheering, bloodthirsty, blood curdling cheers and screams delight, accompanied by horrible heat, and pain like Sokka had never felt before, that blistered the side of his face. His eye-- his eyes was--

A frigid wind blew through the flames, extinguishing them entirely, and sweeping away the darkness. The landscape was that of a frozen tundra, a forest stood just a few miles away, with brilliant celestial lights that brightened the night sky. Above Sokka there stood a wolf, with grey fur and dark markings that were difficult to make out in the prevailing arctic wind. He realized he was laying in snow, his body relieved for the terrible heat that had once wracked it. He gasped, the pain from his face ebbing away as he stared up at the grey stranger.

“...Iwei?” he ventured. It huffed, as if annoyed, and lifted his head away but remained standing over him.  This gave Sokka just enough room to scoot out from under the giant creature and lift himself out of the snow. “Where...are we?”

It sat, it’s tail patiently thumping as it looked to him.

“The Spirit world?” he asked tentatively, but silence gave him his answer. “Wha-? Why am I here? Where’s Zuko?”

Iwei’s piercing golden eyes conveyed nothing as they stared at him.

“Aw-- come on. Is this because of that stuff I said last time? Look, I’m sorry okay? But if he’s in trouble I wanna know.”

It let out a long breath, quirking a brow.

“Oh what, it’s either all or nothing?” asked Sokka. “That’s it, isn’t it? I have to either know the guy or ignore him? Well congrats, i can’t ignore him. You made sure of that.”

Iwei’s ears folded back, it’s expression darkened and their tail thumped with some impatience. Sokka folded his arms and sat back in the snow.

“Just...tell me what I’m supposed to do. I am supposed to do something, right? That’s why you introduced us, isn’t it?”

Silence.

“Arugh! I can’t take this!”

Iwei’s ear twitched as a scream rose up in the distance.

“Zuko!” Sokka stood again, but so did Iwei. “Are you...trying to stop me?”

It’s great paws stepped lightly, so delicately that he could not hear the familiar crunch of snow from under it’s pads. It’s gaze was trained on him. That was it, it seemed, it did not want Sokka to go after him.

“Out of my way!” he said, throwing his arm. The wold looked more and more like a predator the more Sokka resisted. “Iwei! The light-footed guide...but you won’t guide me to him?”

Another scream echoed across the sky.

“...because…” realized Sokka, with some embarrassment, “I can’t help him. He’s awake.”

Iwei huffed. Sokka looked in the direction of the scream, remembering the terrible heat, the blistering sensation, the searing pain. 

“And you won’t guide me somewhere I can get hurt…”

The wolf’s defenses lowered, and it calmly sat once more, and even went so far as to lay its whole body down, seemingly convinced Sokka would not try to leave this place. Sokka walked to Iwei, his gaze in the direction of the horrible sounds, and knelt beside the great wolf. He watched the skies as the screams echoed across them, with his friend in the only way he could be as every cry hollowed him out further.

--

Sokka woke before the sun rose, and could not get back to sleep. He’d left the small yurt and sat up on the wall that bordered the village. His gaze was to the distance, his nightmare still playing in his mind. He was as useless as he’d always felt himself to be. Sitting here on the ice, waiting, unable to help those in need.

“Hey,” came a gentle voice. He turned, surprised to see his sister walking carefully along the wall towards him.

“What are you doing up?” he asked.

“I could ask you the same thing,” she said, tucking his long poncho under her knees and sitting.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he answered simply.

“Is it dad?” she asked.

“Huh?”

“Is that why you’re out here? Do you miss him?”

“Oh...no. I mean, I do, but that’s not…” he bit the inner part of his lip as he pondered over what to say.

“Then what’s up?”

“You think I’m ever...useless?” he asked, the last word quiet.

“No,” his sister chuckled. “You’re the meat-head of the village who helps with the fishing. You’re not the smartest--”

“Hey--”

“But you’re not useless,” she paused, some of the mirth leaving her. “Why?”

“Because...I just can’t seem to really help anyone.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I couldn’t go with the other men to fight, and I’m not a bender, and mom…” his breath left him. He put a fist to his forehead, as if to push back those feelings. Katara put a hand on his arm.

“That wasn't’ your fault.”

“Does it matter? I couldn't help her.”

“Sokka, we were kids.”

“Dumb kids who didn’t know about this dumb war until it came crashing down and changing everything. And I just can’t seem  to do anything about it all the way out here. Everyone is in trouble and I keep just sitting here. I hate this.”

Katara was silent as her gaze shifted to the ground.

“I know what you mean.”

“You do?”

“I’m a Water Bender, but just barely. I feel useless too, but we’re not. Our tribe needs us, Gran-Gran loves us, and we make a difference. I know you're frustrated, trust me, so am I. But you know, I’m glad you didn’t leave.”

“You are?”

“Yeah. You’re a dork and kinda bone-headed, but you’re also my brother. I’m glad you’re safe and here to help us.”

This did little for him, but he gave a nod.

“Dad did say I had to look after you and the rest of the village. It was my duty as a man.”

“...sure,” she said with an eye roll. “Now, oh man of the village, will you come down with me and have breakfast?”

“Yeah, sure. I could eat.”

“You could always eat.”

“I know,” he said with a smile. She was first to leave, but he paused, and looked once more at the horizon. “Hey Katara?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you believe in fate?”

“What?” she all but barked with laughter.

“Hey! Don’t laugh, I’m having a serious moment here.”

“Oh, sorry . Not that it’s odd to hear Mr. I-think-spirits-are-dumb talk about fate.”

“It’s a serious question!” he shrieked, ignoring the prepubescent crack to his voice. His sister laughed in his face.

“You know I do. Why? Do you?”

“No,” he said, his cheeks growing a shade of pink as his sister once more laughed.

“What is with you today?”

“Nothing, never mind. I’m hungry,” he said, and started storming away, his sister following him and teasing him as they went.

Chapter Text

The initial meeting between Zuko and Sokka had not gone over as well as either would have imagined. This was largely due to the fact that Zuko was currently invading the Southern Water Tribe. 

The Prince’s ship, a battle-class Fire Nation tanker, had gone and pierced through the village’s only line of defense, their wall of snow. The young royal had been up on the deck in time to observe a single Water Tribe warrior on the wall itself, watching the approach of the ship. Foolish, thought Zuko as he’d seen the warrior topple over like so much snow in the collision. His visit here would be a short one, of that he was sure.

Sokka had fallen into a great pile of snow, but was lucky enough to not be completely buried under it. Perhaps something was looking out for him, but no divine intervention was going to fend off these Fire brutes. They never had in the past, and he was sure it wouldn't change now. He’d regrouped in front of his village, and watched as the front of the ship lowered it’s gangway, revealing the armored enemy. He took off at them, determined to not even let them get one foot off the ship. He’d beat every last soldier if he had too. He’d never let them bully them again--

The Water Tribe warrior was thrown so flat on his butt that the young Prince found the attempt at combat almost insulting. He’d thrown him aside, carelessly. He’d been ready for a bigger defense, a greater resistance, but as he stared at the handful of villagers in front of him, he realized very quickly there was no one there to defend them. He hardened his heart to this sight, he couldn’t afford pity when his honor was so close to being restored. 

The thought had occurred to him, even as soon as they’d entered the icy southern territory, that he might run into Sokka. But such thoughts only served as a distraction, and even if he did meet the young man, he would not hold back. Not when it came to restoring his honor. 

At this moment, neither one recognized the other. It had been four years since they’d spoke, and currently Sokka’s features were hidden behind thick war paint. Zuko was geared up in Fire Nation armor, much of his face obscured by a sturdy helmet and brandishing a two year old scar that marred his face. Neither one expected to ever see the other again, anyhow. What were the odds anyway, both seemed to think.

 Zuko’s mind was solely on the mission, and the mission before him was clear, capture the Avatar he was sure this sorry little excuse for a village was harboring. Sokka’s goal was to defend, and send those Fire Nation soldier’s packing. Sokka’s plan was not going as well as he should’ve hopped as he was effortlessly flung into a pile of snow. 

Sokka struggled to free himself pulling his top half clean out of the snow mound in time to turn and see the scene before him.

Having successfully bested him, the Fire Nation pratt had gone on to integrate the small village. He had even had the audacity to shoot a warning shot of flames over the villagers, a scene that ignited a fire of rage in Sokka. When his village did not answer the young man’s questions--something about the Avatar?-- the soldier had even gone so far as to grab Sokka’s own grandmother.

Sokka wiped away the paint that ran down his face, wet from the snow, clearing his vision. He ran at the Fire Nation soldier leading the interrogation, and swung his club, but missed. The exchange of fists and club was quickly ended, and after being once more disgraced and thrown onto his backside and nearly torched, Sokka had reached behind him and tossed his boomerang. The young man stepped out of the way in time to let it sail clean past him and into the distance, only to turn his head and angrily glare back at Sokka, ready to unleashed a frustrated stream of flames at him, but stared at him in the next moment as if struck.

The prince had been sure that, should the moment had presented himself, he would be ready. He had meditated on the thought, replaced the scene over and gain in his head, of what he’d do, what he’d say should he ever see his traitorous friend again. All that planning, those scripted line’s he’d practiced, had melted away, leaving him a frozen mess

“Sokka?” the name clumsily had left his mouth before he’d meant it to. His words were more of a gasp, easy to confuse.

Sokka was confused, how could this foreign man possibly know his name? But the voice was so unmistakable.

“Zuko?” Sokka wondered, muttering his name just under his breath so only he might hear. The other must have read his lips, and the recognition raised their hackles in shock. Sokka didn’t have time to think, though his gaze remained latched on the terribly scare that marred the left side of his face.

“Never give up!” yelled one of the village children off to Sokka’s left, who quickly tossed him a spear for him to catch. Sokka took it up, and turned back to Zuko. Conflict clouded his brain, but the need to protect his village drove him to stand and quickly rush at Zuko. The young prince was quick, acting on instinct it seemed and swiping his arm up, did break the spear, twice, with his fore arms. He stopped grabbing the measly broken sphere handle, staring into Sokka’s eyes with his own determined, molten gaze as he whispered.

“Just sit, and don’t give me reason to hurt you,” he hissed a whisper at him. He quickly swiped what was left of the spear out of Sokka’s grasp. Then, quickly, he harmlessly batted at Sokka’s forehead in prodding motions, seeing him off balance, and once more, on his backside. The action had not hurt, not to the degree that Sokka had expected, and seemed more of a gesture to put space between them rather than a real attack. Insulting, but as Sokka looked up to Zuko, who stared back at him, he could see a storm of confusion and anger brewing in those golden eyes. Sokka moved to stand giving Zuko’s anger a reason to be won over. The Fire Bender clenched his fists, little jets of fire escaped his grip as he stared down at him. 

It was then the boomerang swung back, knocking the back of Zuko’s helmet with a loud clang. Despite the dire situation, Sokka could not help but laugh.

“Ha!” laughed Sokka.

“Enough!” Zuko yelled. “I know he’s here, so where are you hiding--”

His words were interrupted by the young Air Bender Sokka and his sister had helped save only yesterday. Riding on an Otter-Penguin, Aang swooped in and plowed into Zuko’s feet with such force that it flung him helplessly in the air like a rag doll. Now it was his turn to flop into the snow, his helmet knocked clean off. It was clear, as Zuko raised his face, contorted as it was in humiliated anger, that this was in fact, the young prince of the Fire Nation that Sokka had befriended all that time ago. The humor Sokka had found in his landing left in the next moment as he got a better look at the scar. Most of Zuko’s hair was gone as well, leaving only a patch that his top knot might remain intact, a symbol of his royal status. He remembered his dream, that night with Iwei two years ago, and the horrible burning sensation. What had happened? What was Zuko doing here in the frozen south, and why was he spouting nonsense about finding the Avatar? The guy seemed to have lost his mind. There was no time to react, no time to even back up Aang in his fight, for as soon as the fight had begun, it ended almost as soon. To Sokka’s shock, Aang had given himself over, in return for the protection of the village.  Honorable for a goofball they’d only met yesterday. Sokka found himself standing there, still planted in the snow, his mind working over what to do as Aang was carted away. This boy...he was the Avatar? He was Zuko’s target, and now he was in Fire Nation hands.

His gaze hardened on the ship growing small on the horizon line, and picked himself up. He would not sit and wait a moment more. Not only was he determined to go after Aang, but Zuko too. He would stop him. 

--

“Aang is the avatar. He’s the world’s only chance. You both found him for a reason. Your destinies are intertwined,” spoke Kanna to them.

He and his sister exchanged a worried look, the weight of her words not lost on either of them. One hundred years had passed since the last Avatar, one hundred years of pain, and loss, and war. If Aang truly was the Avatar, then she was right, only he could end this terrible cycle. But destiny was a funny word that played on Sokka. It was his responsibility, he corrected and convinced himself to believe. Destiny had not been kind to him, after all the one who was supposed to be his Soul’s Tether was currently making off with the savior of the world for who knows what reason.

“Sokka, a moment,” his grandmother had asked.

“We don’t have time,” Katara protested, “every moment we spend here their ship is-”

With a loud grunt, Appa, Aang’s “sky” bison, approached them.

“Appa!” exclaimed Katara. She at once forgot about them and set to work transferring their things from their small canoe and onto Aapa’s saddle. This gave Kanna and her grandson the moment she was looking for.

“That Fire Nation boy,” she started, her tone hushed “he gave you reason to pause. Is he…?”

“Yeah…” he said, looking ashamed, but Kanna reached out and gently took his chin, turning his face back to her.

“You sister does not know, I take it?” she asked, but Sokka could not muster an answer except to gently shake his head. “You will have to, but I will leave that to you to decide when.”

He remained quiet, troubled, his gaze moving past her and on the horizon. She smiled at this.

“Your Spirit’s Tether has given it’s first tug. It begs you to follow, and you will. Such is your destiny.”

This only served to make him more solemn, a disappointment welling in his chest.

“Remember, Sokka, you are a brave warrior, you have proven as such today. But you must also listen. Listen to your heart, to the spirits, and to your destiny. Understand?”

“...yes,” he said, though he felt his response was a bit of a lie.

“And above all else,” she continued, “be nice to your sister,” she smiled, before tightly embracing him.

“Yeah...I will,” he sighed, hugging her back. 

After a finally hug to her Granddaughter, the two Water Tribe children boarded the bison, and went after Aang, the Avatar. 

-- 

Golden eyes stared helplessly up at him. Zucko’s hands could only just grasp the side of the ship, and Aang’s glider staff. When his gaze met Sokka’s, Sokka could see a strange plea in them, to not go over, to not fall to the arctic, icy depths. And perhaps, if they’d been under different circumstances, if Zuko was not so hell bent on capturing the Avatar, he would have pulled him up. Below the prince, other than the antarctic sea, was a thick and heavy anchor chain. After their initial fight, and from what he could remember of Zuko anyway, he knew the guy to have quick reflexes. He would not die, but he wouldn’t be able to bend fire at them for the moment either. But he hesitated. Zuko glared back at him.

“Hello, traitor,” he said. Sokka’s face contorted to surprise and anger, his face flaring red from instant rage.

“I could call you the same thing. Let go!” he said, but Zuko’s grip on the glider was tight.

“What’s the matter, Sokka, thought you’d seen the last of me? Hoped you had?”

“We can talk about this later,” he snapped, still trying to keep his voice hushed.

“What’s the hold up?” Katara called. Her Water Bending was a flimsy defense at best, and would not keep the other Fire Nation Soldiers back for long.

His attention was drawn back when Zuko pulled on the glider staff, still trying to hoist his way up. Caught between a rock and a hard place, Sokka realized that there wasn’t time for a reunion, and had to wrap things up before they were all in danger. He leaned in closer to Zuko, halting the other’s attempts to climb back aboard.

“Hey, do me a favor real quick? Don’t die.”

He then swiftly repaid the Fire Nation Prince the dishonor of knocking his head a few times with the glider, like the other had done with the broken spear. They were light taps, but enough to disorient the young royal and cause him to slip. Sokka’s heart leapt to his throat as he watched him fall, but felt immediately relieved when the prince caught hold of the anchor chain. He quickly let out a breath of relief, then elated, even dared to smirk.

“That one’s for the Water Tribe!” he gloated, showing no sign of restraint over his new found victory.

“Sokka! Come on !” he heard his sister yell. He turned and quickly ran to the giant sky bison, crawling up the length of it’s furry leg as more Fire Nation soldiers approached.

“Yip-yip! Yip-yip!” Sokka cried in panic as they quickly surrounded him. With help from their new friend Aang and his sister Kattara, he was pulled into the large saddle and could feel them lift off from the ship and go soaring into the air. His gaze lingered a moment more on the struggling boy beneath him on the ship. His gaze quickly shifted to the line of Fire Benders taking aim at them, and with a terrible startle, he watched as giant fireballs came hudelign at them. Aang stepped up then, and with his staff and a deep breath, used a power gust of airbending to derail the mini-comets and send them flying into the icy wall of the glacier. The wall cracked and a whole shelf fell in an avalanche, burying the front half of the ship, and allowing for their escape. 

With a sigh of relief at the battle ebbing over, he laid back onto the saddle, listening to his sister and Aang cheer at their victory.

It was later in the day, the sun was setting, and the mood had grown more solemn. Katarra posed the question, on why Aang hadn’t spoken up about being the Avatar. And with his answer, “because I never wanted to be”, Sokka felt he could understand him, though he kept quiet. The Avatars life was plotted out for them, their destinies were arranged though fate, their own wants and wills forfeit to that of the needs of the world. And for Aang, it was defeating the Fire Lord, and for Sokka, well-- destinies were for Avatars, not him.

It was settled that they would travel together to the North pole and find a bending master for both Aang and Katara. If Sokka tagged along for the soul purpose of keeping them safe and kicking some Fire Bender butt along the way, then he couldn't’ complain.  No matter what, he thought as he looked to the sky around them, despite their visits as children in dreams, he would never, never submit to his destiny if it meant ending up with a horrible person like him. He’d left to make his own destiny, not sit around and let everything happen around him. His heart beat in tune with his thoughts, feeling himself uplifted, free, and ready to take on the world’s challenges.

--

“Where are the warriors? the men who captured us?” demanded Sokka, his ear throbbing slightly at the sudden tug of the blindfold being ripped from his face. What stared back at him was the face of a girl his age, painted in colors of red, white, and lined in black. Her cool and steady gaze stared right back at him.

“We are the warriors who caught you,” she answered.

“What? But you’re just a bunch of girls!”

“Forgive my brother, he’s an idiot--” Katarra cut in, and with Aang’s help, got them released from their binds. 

Kiyoshi Island, that’s where they had landed themselves. It hadn’t been a planned stop, but Aang had been insistent that, not only was it along the way to the North, but an important stop. As it turned out, what was important to the twelve year old airbender was showing off Elephant Koi riding to Katara. Great, the Avatar was a goofball. But he was admittedly glad to see Aang happier, especially after their last painful stop.

The Air Benders were gone, a fact Aang had to become deeply acquainted with. Sokka had walked the halls of the great Air Temple, unable to help the twinge of guilt he felt. Being friends with a member of the royal family who'd decimated these people was a bitter stain on his conscious. He remembered when he and Zuko use to talk about Air Benders. How they wished they could fly as effortlessly as the stories said they did. When Katara had told Aang that they were his family now, he might not have said anything aloud to agree with her, but he’d etched that into his heart. Aang was the last airbender, and he would relieve his conscious by protecting this boy. 

Returning to where they were at present, their field trip to the beach had suddenly turned serious when they were captured. However, after a brief demonstration at the Avatar’s return to this world, the villagers were more than pleased to let them stay. They’d even gone so far as to set the gang up in their nicest inn and generously feed them with a small banquet. 

No amount of food could quell Sokka’s obvious dislike for what he considered his humiliating defeat at the hand of girls. It burned him to think he couldn't even beat a group of girls, how was he supposed to take on Zuko? The young prince had years of training behind him, and had taken him out like he was nothing, some annoying fly buzzing about him, easily swatted away. 

No, thought Sokka, he was a good warrior. This defeat was a fluke, surprise attacks don’t count, after all. He’d show them.

Just what he showed them was his clumsy stance and the ability to be tied up well. After suffering yet another embarrassing loss, it brought to light what he’d suspected all along. He was an awful warrior. Little to no training was part of the problem, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that the problem needed to be fixed. He needed to be better, faster, stronger. He couldn’t let Zuko get the upper hand on him, not again. So, swallowing his pride, which was a difficult feat, he did eventually go back to the Kyoshi warriors, and bow, asking to train alongside them. 

Their training had been rough, there was no denying that. The stances he’d at first written off as dancing, he’d found were actually basics in fine tuning the body. Elongated and over exaggerated forms of what an actual blok, kick, and strike would look like. A dance to train the body. He remembered Zuko had explained this to him before, when they were children.

Zuko was already stronger than Sokka. He remembered once when they were ten, Zuko wanted to show off everything he’d learned that day to his friend. The prince would go into these routines, displays of power and stance that Sokka hadn’t quite understood the use of at the time. He remembered clapping for his friend despite this, encouraging him, assuring him that it looked cool, despite not knowing exactly why Zuko was told to train like this.

As he followed along with Suki, slow at first, then again but faster, he could feel more strength in his stance, a critique Zuko always made of him when they’d play spar. With every learned block, Sokka could feel himself using muscles that had never used before. And with every new strike he learned he could feel his strength becoming focused, exact. The fans the Kiyoshi Warriors fought with were meant for that exact precision, to strike the point of a body to disarm and throw the opponent off balance. It demanded him to think of fighting differently, and Sokka loved it.  His mind turned it over one night, and he thought about how he’d never moved like that before in his life. He was sore, terribly sore, but somehow feeling light-hearted at the same time. Pride welled up in his chest, and even a few thoughts of Suki came to mind to cool the pride to something more tender. She was to be respected, that was for sure, and in uniform she was a knock-out, in many ways.

So when Sokka turned over in his bedding, his mind drifting to sleep with thoughts of seeing Suki the next day, he was surprised when he saw Iwei waiting patiently in the darkness for him.

“Seriously?” he asked up to the large, ancient creature. It gave no answer, only peering down at him. “I’m not going to him.”

Still it stared.

“Oh-- come on! He’s the enemy!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “I’m traveling with the Avatar -- the last hope of this world if you forgot! I don’t have time for your stupid destiny, or traitor tactics. Look, I don’t wanna tell you how to do your job, but you guys got it wrong on this one. Mistakes happen, it’s fine, just leave.”

He glowered up at the creature, but the magnanimous spirit still peered down at him for a few seconds longer before it turned and walked away. With it’s light fading, Sokka became aware of a chill gripping him, a chill that felt horribly familiar to the time he’d slipped into the icy waters near his home when he was very young. The feeling compelled him to move forward, back into the warmth of the spirit’s light. He trailed behind it like a petulant child, until he came to an open snowy field. He could feel his furs on him; perhaps it was instinctual for him to project his parka on himself at this moment.

The arctic scene was familiar. It was the exact place Iwei had brought him two years ago. It was perfectly unchanged, still covered in snow, with celestial lights dancing above them. He bit his lip as he remembered the awful wound on Zuko’s face. What had happened to cause such a terrible scar. A training accident? 

The Water Tribesman looked around, wondering if Zuko might appear soon, and why Iwei had brought him here. He didn’t have to wait long, and before he could turn back to beg for Iwei to take him back, a form began to emerge from the misty cold distance. The outline became more clear, and he could see Zuko. 

The Fire Nation prince appeared, dressed in the same armor he’d seen him in before. He stepped onto the snow and seemed to shake himself out of a trance-like state. His gaze wandered only a moment before landing on Sokka, who suddenly realized he was alone. Iwei, it seemed, had left to let them speak.

Zuko’s eyes narrowed at Sokka and he began to approach him.

“Where am I?” he demanded.

“The Spirit world,” Sokka answered, evenly. “Hi to you too--”

“Save it,” he cut him off. “Point me in the direction out of here. I don’t have time for you.”

“Wooooow,” Sokka exclaimed flatly, crossing his arms. “As if I want to see you either.”

“No, you’ve made that very clear,” he said, shooting a venomous glare at him. A choked noise of surprise rose from Sokka, though he tried to stifle it quickly.

“Wait, that’s not what I--”

“Not what you meant to reveal?” he huffed. “Save your pathetic excuses for someone who cares.”

They exchanged an uncomfortable silence, and Zuko became aware that Sokka’s gaze was lingering on his face. This seemed to enrage him more, and he took a step forward.

“What?” he barked.

“What happened to you?” he asked.

“What do you care?” he huffed. “Four years, nothing, and then suddenly these dreams again. Why? Because I ruined your village? Because I’m hunting your new friend?”

“I’m sorry I was gone-- I don’t control these things,” said Sokka. “These dreams are something Iwei makes, they come and they--”

“I don’t care!” he roared out. Sokka was not familiar with the young prince’s new temper, and it unnerved him to the point of silence. “I don’t care about your spirits, or what you and they are plotting.”

“ Plotting ?!” he couldn’t help but scrunch up his nose at this. Who did Zuko think he was. “Hey man, I’m not the one coming to your village with fire and threats.”

“I’ll threaten anyone who gets in my way of capturing the avatar.”

There was another pause as Sokka stared in shock at Zuko. A strange sensation pulled at Sokka’s chest, and while the tether did not reveal itself, he could feel it pulling all the same. Strange, given how much it seemed Zuko wanted him gone. The pause seemed to upset Zuko further, man there was no winning with this guy. As a result, Zuko advanced on him. Sokka remained still, holding his ground. He would not let Zuko intimidate him. Zuko wouldn't hurt him, he was somehow sure, or too reluctant to admit. Even when he’d ransacked his village he hadn’t hurt Sokka, as if reluctant to. Standing still was calling Zuko’s bluff, and his best chance at showing him he would not let the other intimidate him. Yet, as the prince approached, he could feel a terrible heat wave travel with him. A terrible dry heat that at once sapped the water front he air, as stifling as being surrounded in smoke. It was only then that he noticed the snow at Zuko’s feet had melted away, revealing charred earth, covered in a layer of fine black ash. The heart grew uncomfortably intense, and he felt already stifled in his parka, the heat threatening to choke him out. He did not know if Zuko was aware of this vision of death and flame he brought with him upon his approach, and only watched as flames sprung up around them. The prince reached out and violently grabbed the front of Sokka’s long tundra furs, a projected image in this dream world, same as the armor Zuko wore before him now. The Water Tribe boy did not back down, despite the fact he was sure he felt embers in his lungs choking him. Breathing was a labored effort, and panic was starting to take hold. He endeavored to remain still, stoic, but could not stop himself from reaching up to grab Zuko’s fist that held him in place, his lungs begging for clear as ash began to fall into his vision.

“I don’t know what you or your spirits are planning with these dreams,” Zuko spoke, his tone dangerously quiet, “but it doesn’t matter. From here on out I will never stop hunting you. I will find you and the Avatar, to the lowest depth, to the highest mountain--there won’t be a day where you won’t have to look over your shoulder. When I see you again, I will take you out.”

Sokka awoke suddenly from the dream in a terrible panic, his lungs begging for air. He could still feel the layer of ash and sweat over his face and neck, a slick grime that made him so uncomfortable he sat up. When he looked himself over he was relieved to see that there was no ash, and he looked around to see that there was no fire, no Zuko.

The others were still asleep, thank goodness. He didn’t know if he had the strength to convincingly dodge any questions at the moment. Besides, Katara and Aang seemed too wrapped up in some conflict. They seemed on edge with one another, but he’d been mostly kept out of it. Training with the Kiyoshi Warrior’s had taken up the majority of his time here, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to get into whatever was going on between them. If he was lucky, which he hardly ever was, they’d be so distracted with whatever they were going through to ignore him while he sorted his feelings out. He laid back down and closed his eyes, taking in deep breaths of the cool night air around him, letting it cling to his skin in place of the terrible imagined fire, and drifted off into dreamless sleep. 

Training the next day had been interrupted by the sound of the alarm bell.

“Fire Nation!” someone could be heard yelling outside. Sokka, still in his Kiyoshi training regalia, had raced out with the other warriors.

“Quickly, round the back,” Suki instructed the other’s. “Keep out of sight until you find an opening. Let’s see who thinks they might come to our village so boldly.”

A terrible fluttering Sokka’s his chest hinted to him just who he’d see outside.

There, at the center of town, he could hear Zuko’s voice. His irritating, commanding, raspy, voice. He was making demands for the Avatar, and if their meeting last night was any indication, he meant business. Sokka had climbed up the the roof with Suki and another one of her Kiyoshi Warriors, and could see Zuko below, riding atop a Komodo-Rhino. Six soldiers were seen riding in pairs, mounted on their own Komodo-Rinos. Their steeds were fearsome, scaly creatures, who could spear you with their intimidating facial horns, two curved at the top and one sprouting from their nose or crush you with a powerful swing of their limbs or tail. 

“Sokka,” whispered Suki, “Do you know where the Avatar’s gone today? I don’t want him running into this trap if he’s not here.”

“I-I don’t know. I think he mentioned something about Elephant-Koi? No, the Unagi?”

“So he’s at the beach, good. Let’s drive off these soldiers before his return. With luck, they’ll look elsewhere.”

“Yeah,” nodded Sokka, suddenly relieved he was so heavily disguised.

The soldiers headed in front of Zuko, riding ahead to scout for any sign of the Avatar. The Kiyoshi Warriors were quick to launch and attack on the Fire Nation from above, and below while they were distracted. Sokka followed Suki into the thick of battle with them. They’d landed on the ground and sprung into an all out sprint. It looked like Suki’s target was the fire prince himself. Fine with Sokka, if he could merely stay out of focus and provide back up, Zuko might find his endeavor useless and leave. 

Running headlong down the main road of the village, their small team had to duck and doge around hot fire and swinging pole arms. The island’s warriors were making easy work of beating the soldiers who rode atop the Komodo-Rinohs, but not without their own casualties. 

Making it to their target, Suki immediately launched at Zuko with great speed. The royal could fend her off, but only barely, knocking her back to the ground. The mount he rode atop swung its flexible but powerful tail at her like a whip! It struck her in the ribs, knocking her the rest of the way to the ground. She struggled to get up, her ribs possibly fractured or worse from the impact. It wasn’t enough, it seemed. Zuko shot out  a fist of fire to make sure she stayed down, but before it could reach his target, another warrior intercepted it with a pair of golden fans.

The fans parted, and in one quick instance, fierce ocean-blue eyes stared directly into molten-gold. Sokka’s heart sunk from the way Zuo’s expression changed to surprise in a quick instant, before once more consumed by bitter anger.

“ You ,” Zuko spat at him, like it were a curse. A devious grin graced his face, and a new spark of determination cast itself in his gaze. “Where’s your friend?”

Sokka’s identity had been revealed by a mere glimpse, and with that reveal came the truth that the Avatar was here. 

Whatever action Zuko had intended to take next against Sokka, it was completely thwarted by another Kiyoshi warrior dropping from a nearby roof. They’d knocked him off his mount completely. The creature, confused and scared from the unseen attacker, ran away, abandoning it’s rider. Suki was back on her feet, and together with Sokka and the third warrior, circled around the banished prince. Though stunned for a moment and outnumbered, Zuko was not powerless. While on the ground, he quickly maneuvered his legs in a circle kick, his body spinning with the momentum and drawing fire from the sole of his armored feet. The warriors all jumped away, partially blown back by the torrential force of the Fire bender’s ability and force. Suki, already hurt, was flung back into the building, further damaging whatever the Komodo-Rhino had done to her, incapacitating her almost instantly on impact. The other warrior had been burned, terribly, and restored to retreat, leaving Sokka and Zuko practically alone. Zuko had swiftly goten to his feet and had no trouble ducking down again to once more sweep at Sokka’s stance. Sokka went down, his head hitting the floor with an unpleasant crack, but he just managed to allow instinct to roll out of the way of Zuko bringing down his heel on his clavicle, a stream of fire tailing it. He rolled out from under him and to his feet, just barely able to stand before Zuko caught him by his front and used his arm to pin him against the wall. His fist was raised, but he did not strike. He huffed instead, staring him right in the eye.

“Nice dress,” mocked Zuko.

“These are warrior’s clothes,” he managed to choke out behind the pressure Zuko pinned him with.

“Then what are you doing wearing them?” he mocked.

Zuko’s word bit at him, and with great force he pushed at Zuko, who barely budged, but just enough for Sokka to thrust the folded golden fan between Zuko’s armor plates. It jabbed at the muscle, and as a result, the arm that held Sokka went slack. Zuko was forced to try and put distance between him and Sokka, but the Water Tribe warrior caught him by the same arm, and locking under it with the other, spun him and ran him into the wall, his face slamming into the side of the building.

“I’m sorry,” said Sokka, “What were you saying?”

Zuko was quick, and up with his foot, unleashing another stream of fire that forced Sokka to let go of him, lest he get burned. Now free, Zuko unleashed a full attack on Sokka. The other put up a brave defence, but a few days training was no match for years of experience. Zuko’s aim was for incapacitation, and he struck Sokka’s sternum with three quick jabs before kicking the inside of his knee to topple him to the ground. Sokka struggled to sit up, but the wind had been swiftly knocked out of him. He drew in breaths as fast he could, btu was just able to wheeze as he stared up at Zuko, waiting for the other to make good on his word from their meeting in their dreams. The prince stood over him, his eyes narrowed a moment in consideration of something, before turning his attention to the center of town.

“I’ll deal with you later, just stay down,” he merely grumbled, stepping over him and walking to the center of town. 

“Zu…!” he wheezed, sounding like a growl. He tried to move but still did not have the wind in him to follow.

“Nice try, Avatar!” Zuko called out “But these little girls can’t save you.”

Zuko had not taken him out like he promised, but there was little time to consider why. Suki was suddenly by Sokka’s side and had seized him by the shoulders of his robes, dragging him away. 

“Suki?” he gasped.

“Hold on,” she whispered and knelt down to help him up. She flung his arm over he shoulders and stood, with some difficulty, and brought him back into the training dojo.

“But your ribs?” he continued, but she shook her head, setting him down against the wall. 

“I’m fine,” she said, despite putting a hand to her side. “I just got knocked around a bit. Where’s the Avatar?”

“Not here, He’s--” but a sudden gust of wind confirmed that Aang was very much there. He leaned on his side and peered out; Aang was there, now fighting Zuko. “Great. Just great,” muttered Sokka.

“He’s got to get out of here,” said Suki, “He has to continue on his mission.”

“Don’t worry, if anything, I’m sure my sister is thinking the same thing. But if we leave, are you sure you’re alright?”

“Worried about us girls?” she teased.

“No, definitely not. But still, Fire Nation are no joke. Still, if we do leave, they’ll follow us.”

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and hope your friends are thinking the same thing as you. Come on,”

She helped him up and they walked around back of the building. They waited, hearing the battle raging in the town. Sokka stared at the ground, his frustration mounting. He’d put up a better fight, but it hadn’t been enough,and once more Aang was fighting by himself. Hopefully his sister was safe, and she was grabbing Appa in this moment.

“That soldier,” said Suki at last, and Sokka turned to her, “You two spoke as if you knew each other.”

Sokka’s eyes widened, before he turned away.

“Yeah,” he answered, evenly.

“Why?”

“He’s been following us ever since the South pole. He’s the guy that’s been on our trail this whole time.”

“Be careful with people like that, Sokka,” she warned. “They’ll try to get in your head,”

“Oh don’t worry, that jerk could never get to me,” and yet, even as he said it, he could feel his heart give a strange tug, turning his words sour in his mouth. That was a problem he’d address later.

It wasn't long before he was saying his goodbyes to Suki, the battle still raging just beyond the building, with Aapa hovering close by for his quick escape. He could not leave without thanking her, it was only because of her and her training that he was able to put up as much of a fight as he did. And, he owed her an apology, for thinking her a girl when she was, in fact, a warrior.

“I am a warrior,” she said, but swiftly pulled him close and kissed his cheek, “but I’m also a girl.”

The action had made his heart flip, and he in turn could only offer a goofy grin before the gravity of the situation came crashing back down around him. Quickly he boarded Appa, his sister already waiting for him. They took off, and Aang, with help from his glider, took off after them. 

They left Kiyoshi Island, and Sokka couldn’t help but keep an eye on it until the clouds obscured it from view. 

He clutched at his chest, a strange feeling welling up inside it. Zuko had been true to his word, to a point. He would follow them, he would never stop, it seemed. He gripped the side of Appa’s saddle as his mind turned over why Zuko had spared him. 

“Sokka?” came the voice of his sister. He turned, surprised.

“H-huh?”

“What...are you wearing?”

“O-oh!” he gave a short laugh. “It’s a Kiyoshi--”

“I know what it is,” she smirked, arching an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you’d so willingly put on a dress is all.”

“Hey, these are warrior’s uniforms and armor.”

“Did you steal those?”

“Suki gave them to me! She was training me,” he huffed, his arms crossed.

“Woah! I didn’t know you were training with them,” smiled Aang.

“Well you both were too busy arguing over...whatever it was. Is that over now or…?”

“It’s over,” said Aang, his cheeks turning an embarrassed pink, his expression turning shamed. “And...Katara, you were right. It’s too dangerous for us to stay in one place for too long. I’m sorry I let everything get to my head the way it did.”

“It’s okay,” she nodded. “Luckily, because we left they’ll leave Kiyoshi Island too.”

“As long as we’re apologizing,” sighed Sokka, “I admit, I was being a jerk earlier. Those Kiyoshi Warriors can really kick butt.”

Katara cleared her throat, as if to beg Sokka to go on.

“Aaaaaand girls can fight. So...sorry,” he said, offering a smile. She smiled back at him.

“Okay, I forgive you.”

Satisfied, she looked out to the direction Appa flew them in, but Sokka couldn't help but turn back, watching the clouds that raced by them. 

Chapter Text

"It's like a scar."
The words had left Sokka without even thinking, yet he was right.
From up on Appa's saddle, high in the sky, the could see a terribly marred and charred patch of land. Cutting through the healthy lush green were acres and acres of ash, the area had been decimated by fire.
The team landed at the center of it, walking around to see if they could investigate the cause. Leaping down from the saddle, the ash below their feet was soft and kicked up around their ankles.
"Listen. It's so quiet," said Sokka, breaking the silence. "There's no life anywhere." He knelt down, and unsurprisingly, he saw familiar footprints. Fire Nation, their armor footwear was unmistakable, it had been etched into his memory ever since the invasion that took their mother. "Fire Nation!" he called out, unable to help himself. "Those evil savages make me sick! They have no respect for-"
"Shh!"
He was quickly hushed by Katara, who then pointed toward Aang. The Air Bender's back was turned to them, overlooking the desolate scene. He collapsed to his knees, his hand rummaging through the dirt and ash, allowing it to slip gently through his fingers as he spoke.
"Why would anyone do this? How could I let this happen?" he asked, sadly.
"Aang, you didn't let this happen, this had nothing to do with you," offered Katara, but Sokka wasn't so sure.
"Yes, it does," Aang corrected and sat back to look at the sky. "It's the Avatar's job to protect nature, but I don't know how to do my job."
"That's why we're going to the North Pole, to find you a teacher."
"Yeah, a Water bending Teacher. But there's no one who can teach me to be the Avatar. Monk Gyatso said that Avatar Roku would help me."
At this Sokka stepped forward, confused.
"The Avatar that came before you? But he died over one hundred years ago. How is he supposed to help you?"
"I don't know," he replied gently, sadly.
That seemed to end the conversation there, and Sokka knew of nothing to help the Avatar. He decided he would leave such things to his sister. She was better at cheering people up than he was. As he continued to wander in silence, feeling the ash gently and eerily give under his feet, he looked out to the open sky.
This place was like a scar. Odd choice of words, but true, none the less.
Then it occurred to him why he'd said that. He scoffed at his foolishness, kneeling down to the parched earth. Zuko had nothing to do with him, not any more. He couldn't help him anyway, not that he even wanted help. He leaned back, and felt the ash beneath his hands. It hadn't been his fault that he hadn't seen him, surely. No, he told himself, of course it wasn't. Iwei determined such things. He had been a child. He had been confused, scared.
He remembered the night he'd heard the young prince scream, and was so sure that was the night Zuko had suffered his terrible wound.
He clenched his fist, gathering the ash in them. He lifted his palm to watch the wind carry it away, and the rest slip through his fingers. Why wouldn't Iwei be clear? On the night of the prince's maiming, why had he only been able to sit and listen? Why couldn't he have done more, perhaps when the prince was asleep. If he had, would Zuko have been different? Would they have been different?
Such thoughts only served to frustrate him. He threw the ash to the ground, wiping his hands of it.
Hours had gone by. The gang was in a funk. Aang sat, moping in the way that he did when the responsibilities of the world and its need of the Avatar presented itself. Perhaps hoping to end this, Katara approached them.
"Aang, are you ready to be cheered up?" she asked.
"No," he answered, sullen. Much to Sokka's surprise, he watched his sister fling an acorn at the young man's head.
"Ow! How's that supposed to cheer me up?" the other asked, rubbing the sore spot where the acorn made contact.
"Cheered me up," Sokka snorted. She did not hesitate in throwing one his way. "Ow! Okay, I probably deserved that," he admitted, quietly.
Katara went on to explain to Aang that the forest was covered in these seeds, and that they, in turn, would one day turn into trees, restoring the forest. Sokka looked over the seed, and back to Katara and Aang. The Avatar seemed pleased with the answer, and his happiness was infectious. Sokka couldn't help but find himself smiling as well. The kid was twelve, and the world depended on him. Not an easy job, even in peaceful times, thought Sokka.
He looked to the acorn he held, before tossing it aside. Time may heal a forest, but neither he nor Zuko had that luxury, he thought, bitterly.
Footsteps approached them, and Sokka stood quickly, his hand itching to reach for his boomerang. However, who approached them was no Fire Nation soldier, or lingering forest creature, but a man dressed in simple Earth Kingdom robes. He used a walking stick to aid him, and seemed to be in some pain. A man of his age had no business hiking out this far. The man explained, in quite a panic, that he'd seen their flying bison, and inquired if Aang were the Avatar. Upon his response, the man begged for their help, and the team had no choice but to follow.
They arrived at a broken down little village. It seemed abandoned, until they drew closer to one particular building in the back of the village. Inside they could hear young children crying, and the low din of adults speaking in low voices. The entire village was huddling together in this town hall, terrified of something. The elder they’d followed introduced them to the mayor in charge of the village, who told them of a terrible spirit that had been visiting them. Hei Bai was its name, and for some reason this angry spirit stole villagers away and took them somewhere no mere human could travel. The spirit world. Admittedly, Sokka had been to the spirits world, on more than one occasion, but never physically. He hadn't even known such things were possible until that moment.
Lost in his thoughts, he only just registered that the villagers were begging for Aang’s help. The responsibility of saving this village fell to the Avatar. As the only being who could serve as a bridge between worlds, the boy could not refuse. There was one obvious problem, which was the question of how. Well to the villagers, scared into desperation, it didn't matter how.
Sokka didn't like the idea of Aang being asked to take something like this on without some plan. Katara was optimistic Aang could figure it out, but optimism, thought Sokka, wasn't enough. Despite his own thoughts on the matter, when the sun began to set, Aang stepped out of the town hall to take on the spirit.
He seemed to say a few words, facing the direction of the forest, and seemed to punctuate whatever he was saying by lifting his staff. Sokka shook his head. Something told him nothing was truly fixed. With any luck it was, and now all that was left was for Aang to get back into safety.
On his way back, something appeared behind Aang. A monstrous creature, with black and white markings. It did not hurt Aang, but instead seemed focused on thrashing the buildings around the village. Alarmed, Aang clumsily chased after it. The others could only watch as the young Avatar struggled to gain the spirit’s attention. It was unfair that he should be out there by himself, especially when it was so obvious the kid had no idea what he was doing.
"We should be out there helping him," said Sokka, unable to help himself.
"No," spoke the elder of the village. "The Avatar is the only one that stands a chance against the spirits."
"We just have to trust Aang," said Katara.
But that didn't sit right with him. He'd waited before, waited to let others go out and fight for his safety. He gripped the window sill as Aang's attempts to talk to the spirit fell on def ears. And finally, when it seemed Hei Bai had enough of Aang's pestering, it turned and knocked one of it's lanky arms into him. Aang was thrown from the rooftops and into another building. THe boy was just able to catch himself from hitting the ground airbending. Sokka decided that enough was enough.
"That's it. He needs help," said Sokka, who immediately tore away from the safety of the building and ran out into the open. He'd made a promise to himself, he was not going to just sit and wait, not let people fight for him. Not anymore.
However, running headlong into the fight proved less than helpful. He'd thrown his boomerang to distract it from it's fight with Aang, but that only served to give it a new target. Hei Bai, upon seeing Sokka, turned all of it's attention to him. The sprit seemed to run away. Ha! Take that, he thought with new found confidence.
"Aang!" he called over, running toward the Avatar.
"Sokka, go back, it's not safe for you out here,"
"We can take him, Aang. You don't have to do this alone."
"But I don't want to fight him. Not unless I absolutely-"
Before Aang could finish, the spirit rushed behind them with unnatural speed. So close, and having been surprised, there was nothing he could do against the giant spirit, who easily scooped him up in it's greedy grip. Sokka was helpless to fight it, fear turning his blood cold and his heart thumping in his throat as the wind rushed by him from the creature's speed. Aang was hurrying after him, using his glider to try and reach him in time, but to no avail.
Hei Bai rushed out of the town, and everything in front of Sokka disappeared at once, as if the landscape had changed entirely. A forest hand sprung up in place of the village, like suddenly ducking out from behind a curtain to reveal what was hidden.
The creature ran so far and so fast through the murky waters of the spirit world, that he could only glimpse at the odd sights around him. Then, suddenly, the spirit holding him stopped. He tried to turn to see what was in the angry creature's way, only to have the sound of growling meet his ear.
Hei Bai was growling, yes, but so was something else. A great wolf, grey and marked with winding dark lines, stood before them, it's teeth barred.
"Iwei?" gasped Sokka
The black and white spirit's mouth opened wide, unnaturally so, and roared. From it's maw there shot bright blue light that Iwei seemed keen to avoid, and leapt out of the way. The angry spirit roared again, slamming it's fist powerfully into the ground at the wolf.
"Iwei!" cried Sokka, trying to reach out. "Help!"
The wolf's steady gaze flicked to Sokka, before returning to Hei Bai. It growled, it's jaw moved as if speaking, but the language was indistinguishable from that of its growling. In response to this, Hei Bai lifted Sokka, as if threatening to dash him against the rocks that just peaked out of the swamp.
"Ahh!" cried Sokka as he struggled to break free.
The light-footed guide paused, and then put its fangs away. A low growl could be heard emanating from the great wolf, but to Sokka's dismay he watched Iwei step to the side and out of Hei Bai's way. The black and white creature gave one last terrible roar as the wolf, before taking off again, with the human in hand.
"No! Iwei!" called Sokka, but the wolf remained where it was, ear pinned back. Sokka was carried off and away, out of sight of the spirit who did not even give chase. "Urrg!" he groaned, still struggling. "Stupid spirits! Of course! You never help anyone but your selves!" he yelled angrily. He struggled as best he could until some terrible ache gripped his head. The scene around his gave way to darkness, and his his struggling ceased.
His shouts grew small in the distance.
Iwei lifted their head, their ears lifting and turning, listening for something unknown. It lifted its nose sniffing the air, until one if it's ears perked in a direction, and the rest of its head followed. It lifted its head and howled to the sky, before running head long in some direction...
When Sokka next awoke, it was to the warmth of his sister's relieved embrace. It was over. Aang had saved him from the spirit world, along with the other villagers who'd been kidnapped prior to the gang's arrival. Relieved as he was, he could not help but remember how Iwei had so nonchalantly stepped out of the way of Hei Bai, not even bothering to give chase as it made off with him. He would not forget that.
It had been weeks since the Gaang had last seen hide or tail of Zuko. His sudden appearance at the Fire Temple, and again when allied with pirates, had been as startling as the first time they'd come across each other. Appa could fly so far, so fast, Sokka thought for a while that there was no way Zuko could ever catch up to them. Now, still on their way to the North Pole, they could afford more forgiving rest stops, complete with room and board. Though the town they'd stopped at had been a surprise, more or less, lead by a chance encounter with a traveler in danger of being killed by a platypus-bear. Stranger still was that their coming had been predicted by an Aunt Wu, who said that she needed to meet with them.
Upon hearing the woman was a Fortune Teller, Sokka immediately scoffed at the idea. He could not help but balk at the sentiment that spirits and fate controlled his destiny, despite the obvious situation he faced even now. Nor could he accept that any human knew what the future had in store for any one person. Lately, his thoughts had been consumed by Zuko, and sometimes he'd get odd moments of anxiety from his absence. He still held so many questions, questions that he didn't know if he'd ever get the answers to when it came to what the Fire Nation prince had become. And why did he care? Who they were as kids, it no longer mattered now. The friendship of two children paled in comparison to the world and it's demands. Some nights, his thoughtfulness was palpable, even to the point where his comrades would poke fun at him to coax him out of his funk, other times, he'd think of nothing at all, overwhelmed by the undeniable fact that they were still connected.
At present, they were sitting in the fortune teller's waiting room Sokka was again in one of his deep contemplative funks, the whole idea of fortune telling causing deepening frown lines on his face.
"Be polite," he could hear his sister saying, "it's nice of her to even be doing this for us, and for no charge."
Sokka let slip a quick raspberry in disgust.
"Good to know her scamming comes free. How nice of her."
"Sokka!" she scolded quietly. She might have gone on, but was silenced by the approach of a girl.
"Aunt Wu welcomes you," said a short girl, with long unruly pig tails. She held a tray of snacks, ah, the key to Sokka's silence, the promise of a full stomach. The girl's eyes lingering on Aang for a moment longer than the others. She'd paid special attention to him, and after setting the complimentary snacks down, had left quickly.
Aunt Wu had emerged then, an older woman, perhaps in her sixties. Refined and dressed in clean silks, Sokka couldn't help but note that this woman must make a fortune off her scams, thus, giving away the food for free. After a quick welcome, she asked which of them would be first for their reading. The boys quietly rolled their gaze over to Katara, who'd been the most ecstatic about the reading.
"Oh! Me!" answered Katara excitedly. Quickly, she was ushered away, allowing the boys to sit with their own thoughts. Sokka feigned casual, laying down almost immediately and already stuffing his face. He had to admit, the scammers snacks weren't half-bad. He looked to Aang, whose gaze was on the hallway the other's had disappeared behind. Sokka lifted the bowl, an offering of distraction for the young Avatar.
"I'm good on puffs," responded Aang when offered. Sokka took them back and began eating with a new fervor now that the whole bowl belonged to him. "So...what do you think they're talking about back there?" asked Aang.
"Girl stuff, probably," said Sokka, absently. "You know, perfume, who she'll marry, how many babies she'll have and whatever…"
"O-oh," a pause, "I have to use the bathroom, I'll be back," he said, leaving so quickly that Sokka barely registered his absence until a few moments after. He shrugged to himself, after all, Aang must be as uncomfortable with this place as he was.
He finished off the puffs quickly, and stared at the empty bowl. Sitting in silence, his thoughts eventually drifted to wondering what Zuko thought of fate. He caught himself, and with a scolding breath of irritation, he knocked the bowl away from him. He wasn't sure why he'd lashed out so, watching the inert dish topple over and spill out crumbs. Perhaps he'd wished what he'd really batted away was the boy's stupid face.
"I'm sure I already know what he'd say," he muttered bitterly, "My destiny is to hunt the Avatar and blah, blah, blah…"
"You talking about Zuko?" asked Aang from the doorway.
Shocked, he sat up, gripping his ankles in a cross-crossed position.
"Nope! Who? Zuko? Why would I- I was just...talking to Momo!" he said, throwing his hands over to the lemur. The wide-eyed creature blinked, giving a small gurgle of recognition, before bounding away.
"Sure...but why were you talking about him?"
"I...wasn't."
Aang quirked an eyebrow in response, but was interrupted before he could ask further. Aunt Wu's time with Katara was over, and thus, Aang volunteered to go next. Sokka was quiet as his sister regaled to him what she was told. He rolled his eyes.
"Katarra, you know this stuff is all fake, right? There's no such thing as fate, or destiny, not the way she says it."
His sister folded her arms.
"Oh yeah? What about our own rituals back home, are you saying years of tradition and religion is nonsense too?"
"...sort of," he muttered. "But those are- they're different. Kinda. Look. All this magic mambo-jumbo just has to be taken with a grain of sea salt, okay?"
"And what's that supposed to mean?"
"No one can just tell you what your destiny is."
"Aang's destiny is to defeat the Fire Lord."
"Well, yeah, obviously-"
"Obviously? Oh, so everyone else's destiny is made up but his?"
"No- I mean, kinda- well he's the Avatar, he doesn't count!"
"Face it Sokka, there are things out there you can't explain, things that the spirits can guide us to if we let them."
"Well they're wrong!" he exclaimed. "They're wrong, and aloof, and they don't care about anything we're doing here. They sit on their high-horse or whatever and look down all quiet and judgemental- and they think they know what's best but they're wrong!" he slammed a fist down, and without thinking, had shattered the clumsily toppled over bowl. He lifted his hand,a trail of blood following it, accompanied by a terrible sting of clay sharks sliding across his flesh. He brought his fist back to him, looking over the minor cuts in irritation, noticing that Katara wasn't teasing him, wasn't mothering him, in fact, she was silent. He looked back to her stunned, confused gaze.
"Sokka…" she started, but words failed her. He looked back to the broken bowl, a strange feeling welling up inside him. He hadn't expected to get so heated, so quickly. His temper was never so short, and it scared him just how much Zuko could get to him. Maybe he should be more keen to Suki's warning, he thought.
"Everything alright?" asked Aang, who'd just rushed up to the hallway door. "Woah, Sokka, your hand!"
"What's all the commotion?" asked Aunt Wu, emerging from behind Aang. Her eyes immediately went to the shattered bowl, and Sokka as well. "My bowl…" she whispered in quiet, contemplative astonishment.
"I'm sorry...I...excuse me," said Sokka, quickly walking out of the Fortune Teller's house and away.
It was late in the afternoon when he was approached again. Aang, with the help of his airbending, effortlessly lifted himself onto Aapa's saddle, where he saw Sokka staring up at the pink and orange sky above.
"Hey," said Aang, but Sokka didn't stir. "You...feeling any better?"
Sokka took in a breath and let it out, sitting up.
"Sort of," he shrugged. "Did Katara send you?"
"Yeah, she was kinda worried," he said and sat, cross legged. "And, I am too. I've never seen you get so mad at something. Well, not like that anyway."
"Yeah I…" he sighed, "I'm sorry. I think maybe I haven't really been sleeping well."
"Yeah, we've kinda noticed," he replied, scratching the back of his head, as if unsure how to broach the subject. "Did something happen to you, when you were in the spirit world?"
How could he tell Aang what had happened without going into the history of how he knew Iwei, the betrayal he felt at watching that spirit just step aside. No, he couldn't, because then it would get complicated, and his tether might come into conversation. If Katara ever knew he'd seen Iwei she'd ask, she was big into that stuff. Keeping secrets this was was enough, actively lying was a weight on his conscious he could not afford at the moment. Aside from that, he was unsure what exactly happened next, as everything had gone black. Yet, while he'd been there he'd gotten his odd sense that someone had been there. Someone familiar...
Sokka didn't remember it, but he and Zuko had met that day. Back before the Winter solstice, Zuko's Uncle, Iroh, had been captured. Earth Kingdom soldiers had abducted him from the hot spring bath he'd lounged at and were no doubt on their way to turn him over to some other larger authority. Zuko knew himself to be the best tracker of his crew, and also knew that one person traveling alone would be faster than dragging a whole team. So, that same day, he'd up and left on a komodo-rhino and went searching for him. He'd traveled all evening and well into the night, but his ride was tired, and so was he. If he were not clear-headed when he caught up with them, there was a possibility that he might be captured along with his Uncle. A possibility too humiliating to fathom. What's worse, was that there was an irritating tug at his chest. He could not place the feeling. It was not painful, but it sat in the back of his head like an inch he could not scratch.
There was a good chance that the Earth Kingdom soldiers did not think they were being followed, and had possibly also rested for the night, even if just for a few hours.
Assured that he would simply close his eyes for an hour or so, Zuko lead the beast off the main trail, slipped off the '-rhino, tied it reigns to a tree, and found his own tree to lay against.
The moment he closed his eyes, sleep found him. Dreamless at first from exhaustion, his vision of endless black gave way to a piercing call. A sharp cry, extending on, that grew and lifted his spirit.
A great beast was howling, and with it, blew an arctic chill. He had heard this call once before, not long ago, but as before, his mind was too clouded to think properly. The darkness gave way to some vision of a forest, and it was there he felt himself wake up further.
He blinked and shook himself, looking around the barren scene. Where he stood, there had once been a great and mighty forest, but had been swallowed by fire, leaving behind it's ghost and ashy remnants. The sky above was a strange combination of night and day, where stars could be seen through with the clear blue of a sunny sky. Patches of night would pulse through this veil, growing like an ink stain, before retreating back into itself. The moon and sun melted into one another. This place unnerved him, and not just for the scenery, but for how quiet it was. Outlines, black and empty, like little pockets of night galloping about, ran around him, at a distance, bordering this open, antsy space. They were in the shapes of deer, owl-foxes, rabbit-mice, and other forest creatures, who would run for a while before falling to the ground, collapsing and adding to the ash, disappearing. Then their forms would lift again, gathered together like holes punched in the universe, their form defying the physics of the world as they opened their mouths to bay and scream, but were silent as the dead, before falling over once more. This never ending cycle of panic and death paraded around him, and he attempted to steal his heart at these impossible sights.
Uncle Iroh had been to the spirit world before, and had told him of his many adventures. They had bordered on fantastical, not the unnerving scene that played out before him.
Zuko walked forward, trying to make sense of his presence here. He looked around, wondering what plot Sokka and the spirit had in store for him. This was a trick, it seemed. Some terrible mind-game tactic to scare him off the trail of the Avatar, surely. His foot bumped into something and he looked down. Only now did he notice the uneven land was not due to logs and debris buried in ash, but bodies. Human bodies, five of them, lay still in this open field of death. He'd bumped into one on accident, and he removed his foot from the still woman. She was hard to place as human, unless you were close to her. Much of her form had been buried in this ash, her face caked in it. Her skin had turned a grey color, and she was still as a statue. He looked out to the other bodies that surrounded him, just as grey, just as still.
One of them was horribly familiar.
There, lying a few feet away, was a Water Tribe boy.
Forgetting himself, Zuko ran around the woman's body and over to Sokka, quickly kneeling beside him. Sokka's eyes were closed, as if merely sleeping, and the ash had not yet made it to his face to steal away his warm color.
"Sokka?" he called, but the boy didn't stir. He was still, and Zuko wasn't sure if he was breathing or not. "Sokka!" he called, louder this time, but still no answer. The ash that blanketed him up to his chest was inching its way up him, like fabled creeping crystal. Zuko swatted the ash away, desperately trying to free the other. It receded but would creep back up again. "Wake up!" he called to him. "Come on! Wake up!" he insisted again.
The boy would not wake, and when Zuko reached out to check his pulse, he found the boy's skin to be cold, void of all warmth.
He sat there a moment, shocked.
Shock gave way to the feeling beneath his fingers. A pulse! But weak.
He did not know he'd been holding his breath until it was released from him. Alive, but very cold, Sokka wasn't going to last long here.
He moved to pick the boy up, but stopped, feeling eyes on him.
The parade had stopped, and the creature's made of void were all staring at him. Their eyes were like stars; bright but cold. Their unnatural stillness made the silent scene that much more eerie. Zuko continued to try and pick Sokka up, lifting him over his shoulders, and grabbing his arm and the waist of his pants. He lifted them both up, but became unsure as the animals continued to stare at him. He got the distinct impression that they would not let him leave.
"You want him?" called Zuko, "Come and get him!"
He would watch them charge, look for his opening, and run past their line of defense, but to his dismay they remained where they were. Instead, every ghastly being opened their maws at an unnatural width that would threaten to tear a normal's creature's jaw asunder. No sound came out, but after a moment of confusion, Zuko could feel a terrible headache.
"Nng!" he grunted. All at once a pressure in his head made him feel weak and nauseous, and it threatened to squeeze the air from his lungs. He fell to one knee, an invisible pressure weighing on him and threatening to crush him.
A howl kicked up then, the sound broke through the pressure. The howl silenced the other voices, whose heads all turned in one direction, their gaze looking behind him.
He turned and saw a wolf, it's body made up of brilliant glowing teal and green celestial lights. White marks, like small galaxies, streaked across if's body. It lowered it's head to peer down at the ghostly creatures that bordered this place. Behind the wolf the animals it had stepped over were trying to put themselves back together, missing heads and arms. The wolf's gaze looked down to Zuko a moment, huffed, and turned to head back the way it came.
Zuko found his strength to rise to his feet, even with Sokka's added weight, and follow the great creature.
They left the ring of ghostly creatures, but as soon as Zuko crossed the threshold he felt Sokka's weight lifted. He turned, looking up and around, but the Water Tribe boy was gone. He turned back to see Sokka where he'd been before, lying in the ash.
"What? No!" he demanded, frustrated. Before he could step back into the circle, the great wolf spirit stepped in front of him placing its large paw firmly in his way. Something large could be heard approaching them. At the other side of the circle, the ghastly figures parting to allow it entrance was another spirit. It's body was black and white, with two long arms at its front, and a pair of small black arms that rested along it's collar bone. It stood at the other end of the circle. It lifted itself up on its hind legs and released a screeching roar so loud Zuko was forced to cover his ears, but the wolf did not flinch. The other spirit pounded its fists on the ground, as if asserting it's territory. Thankfully, it missed anyone resting beneath it. The wolf, and he was sure this was Iwei that Sokka had always spoken of, narrowed its eyes at the other spirit. It lifted the paw that obstructed the prince's path and used it to push him even further back. Zuko took the few steps back, regaining his balance as he did. Then the wolf stood, and using its muzzle, continued to push Zuko back and away from the circle, like it were instructing it's cub to flee from danger.
Zuko didn't have room to fight such a creature, nor the will to dishonor someone that had helped him. Still, he looked past the great body of the beast and to the center of the circle where he could just make out Sokka's unconscious form.
"Will...will he be alright?" asked Zuko, trying to keep his voice even. Iwei merely pushed him back and away with its nose. With one last look at his friend's silent form, he turned and relented to the wolf's will,and walked away from the forest.
The screams from the black and white creature followed them, and he could not help feeling it was mocking them. Iwei's ear twitched in annoyance, seeming to confirm Zuko's suspicion.
He stopped then, watching Iwei's great form pass him, it's steps were as quiet as snow fall. Nothing its human had stopped, it eventually turned back and peered down at him.
"Why did you bring me here?" demanded Zuko.
It did not answer. Was it this frustratingly silent for Sokka as well?
"Why are we not going back for him?" he demanded.
It huffed, as if amused and turned itself back around.
"I am prince of the Fire Nation, you will stop when I'm speaking to you!" he yelled.
In an instant Iwei turned and lowered its great head to Zuko's level to growl a deep guttural growl at him. Barred fangs, larger than the size of his forearm, stopped inches from his face. If Iwei so chose there would be nothing stopping the great creature from simply crushing the teen between its teeth, leaving nothing but a stain on the floor as proof of his existence.
Message received.
Zuko could not help but step back, and Iwei in turn put its fangs away, lifting its head back up.
According to Sokka, Iwei was normally calm, never showing any sign of emotion, a stoic enigma. This Iwei, if it truly was them, seemed ruffled by what was happening.
"So, not even you can save him," he huffed, folding his arms. "You thought you'd use me to try and break him out. Well, now what, great spirit?"
It stared down at him in obvious dislike. Well, that was fine, he disliked the creature as well.
Then, something in the sky caught Iwei's attention, drawing his own gaze upward as well. A dragon wound its way across the sky, with the familiar outline of the Avatar atop it.
"The Avatar…!" he gasped, his eyes narrowing. The wolf's tempered gaze returned to him and he was struck with some realization. "You...never intended for me to rescue him?" he asked, dismayed. "That's the Avatar's job...then- why waste my time?" he barked up in anger. "To what end? To draw up pity?" the words left him without thinking, and he faltered. Nothing had told him to after Sokka in the manner that he did, he was never told to save him, only merely brought here. Iwei stared down at him, and in the creature's eyes he could spot the faintest hint of amusement that burned at his pride.
"I spared him once, that means nothing," he snapped, defensively, "He wasn't my goal, I didn't follow the Avatar just to toy with Sokka," he yelled up angrily at the creature, forgetting himself.
It's lips curled up in the way that dogs do when they smile, and it's tail wagged, but it's eyes, so filled with quiet wisdom, narrowed at him, as if challenging his words.
He threw his hands up in a rage. Were spirit's always so convoluted and annoying?
The great wolf lowered its head to him again, and opened its mouth. Icy air escaped it's toothy maw, forming snow that gently rained down around them. Zuko's tether appeared, drawing forth from where his heart sat in his chest it perfectly wound around in the direction of where they'd left Sokka. It glowed a bright gold color, before fading away again. Iwei huffed, as if pleased with itself. Zuko touched the space on his chest where the tether had been. Sokka had once described what tied them together as a line of gold that he could sometimes see. So it was true, they were tethered. His wonder flashed quickly back to anger.
"I can't believe this!" he said, pointing at the Spirit. "My Uncle is in danger, and who knows how much time I've wasted here. That was your mission, wasn't it? To distract me?"
Iwei lifted a great paw, and pushed Zuko. The force was a surprise, for the action seemed gentle enough, but had flown the prince back some great distance.
Zuko, in fact, woke up, no longer leaned against the tree, but on the ground beside it. He lifted himself. He did not feel well rested by any means. The sun was only beginning to rise, he'd wasted enough time.
He untied his steed and quickly climbed aboard. They rode off at full speed. A cold breeze blew from behind, and despite startling the Komodo-rhino, it somehow pushed them faster. Was this Iwei's doing? He looked behind him but could see no such creature, just open road quickly being left behind. He narrowed his eyes. This changed nothing between them, but with any luck he'd reach his Uncle sooner.
Back in the present, Sokka searched the feeling further but could not come up with any answer.
"Sokka?" asked Aang, breaking the other out of his thoughts.
"Huh?"
"I asked if you remember anything from the Spirit World?"
"...no. It's all just a big blank. I was grabbed by Hei Bai, and then suddenly I was on my feet, being embraced by Katara."
"So, nothing at all?"
"Why, Aang? What do you want me to say?"
"Katara says you seemed really angry at the spirits. I just thought maybe something happened when you were gone."
"Look, I admit, I was out of line earlier. I...I'm tired. I guess. But I'm okay now, promise," he said, offering Aang a smile. This seemed to do it for the Avatar, who smiled back at him.
"What about Zuko?"
The other froze, a small choking noise comically squeaking out from his throat.
"H-huh?"
"Zuko. You were mentioning him earlier."
"I...that was nothing."
"If you say so," he shrugged. "Do you want a reading from Aunt Wu?"
"Aang...what about anything I just said makes you think I'd want a reading?"
"I dunno, but Aunt Wu said you were still welcome to one if you wanted, and to let you know she's not mad about the bowl."
"Ack, right the bowl." he said, putting a hand to his face, cringing inwardly in embarrassment. "And you can tell her no thanks, I doubt I'll ever be up for one."
For the rest of the visit there, he put the Fire prince out of his mind. His thoughts turning to more dire and present circumstances. The next day, Aunt Wu had made a very public prediction. Using her fortune telling, she looked at the clouds rising from the volcano to determine whether it would erupt or not. Sokka, already embarrassed about yesterday's outburst, merely chewed on his lip in abject silence and frustration. This was all garbage to him.
Her prediction was that the town would be safe, and Sokka had no room to ague.
But argue he did. As usual, no one in the town listened to him their faith in Aunt Wu much too strong for Sokka to even shake the foundation of. What was it about fate and fortune that seemed comforting to people? He was sure he would never understand. Even Aang was taken in, much to Sokka's dislike, but moments where the kid was happy were moments he wished to encourage. Aang's reading seemed to also have something to do whit love, as he was now determined to find some rare flower. It grew in one place only, and that was a top the volcano. The trip had taken an odd turn, in which Sokka discovered that Aunt Wu's prediction was wrong. horribly so.
They'd had to act quickly, and with the help of Aang and Katara's bending, they'd come up with the plan to change the clouds meaning. Using their faith against them, the villagers now believed int he imminent danger they were in. Well, whatever got them to see reason, Sokka shrugged in his mind.
He made a plan to dig up deep trenches int he land surrounding the village to carry and deposit the lava. And with Aang's help, the town had been saved.
And now surely, he thought proudly, these fools would think twice before they let themselves be lead by the nose. He took this opportunity to lend his wisdom on the matter.
"I hope everyone had learned a valuable lesson," announced Sokka, "not to rely too much on Fortune-Telling."
"But Aunt Wu predicted that the village wouldn't be destroyed, and it wasn't. She was right, after all."
This ignightend his quick temper, the words comically sputtering at the man before he could think of a more intelligent retort.
"I hate you."
"It's ok Sokka," his sister ushered him away, "Everything's gonna be alright."
Fate seemed to have a way of rubbing its undeserved victory in his face.
"Can I ask you something?" Aang's unsure voice caught the attention of the siblings.
"Of course honey."
"You didn't really see love in my future, did you? You just told me what I wanted to hear."
Aang's tone was not angry, or accusatory in any sense, but disheartened, and sad. To this, the woman smiled.
"I'll tell you a little secret, young Airbender," she started with a kind smile. "Just as you reshaped those clouds, you have the power to shape your own destiny."
Sokka could not help but stare.
Aang smiled up at her, thankfully, and with a bow went to join Sokka and Katara in preparation for their flight. The crowd dispersed, but even as they readied their supplies for the trip and secured their belonging's on Appa's saddle, Sokka couldn't help but feel a pair of eyes on him. When he turned, he could see the door to Madam Wu's place, just sightly ajar.
Sokka considered her words carefully. What Aunt Wu said seemed to contradict her trade, and it turned knots in his stomach for some reason.
"Sokka, are you ready?" asked Katara, calling from atop Appa's saddle.
"I...no, hold on," he said, then tossed his stuff up to her. She caught it effortlessly and looked down at him.
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"I...just need to check on something, I'll be back," he said, walking backwards.
"Are you going to Aunt Wu's?" gasped Katara with a look of amusement and shock.
"Well- free's free, and she offered a reading for free so it's just wasting money to not go!" he called back, embarrassment pinching at his cheeks. His sister only laughed at the absurdity of it.
He hurried into Aunt Wu's shop, and opened the door. The girl from before sat there, as if aware of his arrival.
"Aunt Wu's been expecting you," she smiled, revealing a missing tooth.
"Yeah, sure she has," he sighed and followed her further in and down the hall. She opened another door, wherein Madam Wu sat before a fire. As the day grew darker, the flames cast deeper shadows about them.
"Ah, Sokka," she smiled, her tone inviting, "I'm glad you decided to take me up on my offer. Come, please have a seat."
He stepped into the room, the door shutting behind him.
"Yeah well...I just came because I wanted to get something clear."
He stepped closer, trying to show in his body posture that he was loose and aloof, but it was hard to fight against the tightness in his chest.
"Of course, my dear," she nodded.
He sat, his fingers lacing together in his lap.
"What you said, about being able to shape destiny...why would you say that?"
"Because it's true," she said.
"But you're someone who tells people what their destiny is. How can their destiny be one thing, but they still have the ability to change it?"
She raised an eyebrow in question, but there was humored smile on her face
"I don't wish to be rude, but is this really the question you came to ask me?"
"...No."
"Do you want to ask that question?"
"I...I don't know."
He had never told a soul, not a single person, his connection to the fire prince. Thinking about it was one thing, but saying it out loud, that was almost too real.
"I sense…" she started, "that you will be the cause of many of your own miseries." He turned abruptly, gawking at her in insult. She was not looking at him. Her gaze was turned toward the fire, a strangely warm smile on her face for having said something so insulting. "But, because of this, it means it's in your hands to change as well. Destiny is a funny thing, it will lead us, be our guide, but ultimately, we decide what happens when we get there."
"But what if something else is planned for you, what if...what if the person you're supposed to be with- that the spirits tell you to be with...isn't someone you like."
"I see, you've been guided then?"
"Yeah, I guess."
"That is a great blessing, Sokka."
"Doesn't feel like it," he muttered. She chuckled softly, nodding.
"Only the spirits know their own motives, while we are left to guess. Still, there is a reason, and you should perhaps try to find it."
He frowned at this, and shook his head.
"If I can change my destiny, I can change my soulmate too, right?"
To this, she hummed, her eyes turning to the fire.
"A soulmate is...a tether. It is a link, a bond that is unbreakable. We don't fully understand it, and while there are many different tethers and many different bonds, such as the ones to our friends and family, one that is shown to us by the guide of the spirits is shown to us for a very big reason. I assume you two have spoken."
"Yeah. We use to talk all the time as kids...but he's...a jerk. A fire nation jerk. And I could never be with someone like that."
"Love is a powerful thing, Sokka, and you're full of it."
"Not for him!" he exclaimed, recoiling. She laughed in response.
"No, perhaps not yet, but I can tell that you hold a lot of love for others. In times of great loss, and sadness, it is love that truly ends conflict."
Sokka stared at her, taking in her words, but as his mind tried to make sense of her words, he merely sighed and stood up.
"Yeah, I'll be sure to hug the next firebender who tries to kill me then."
"It takes both sides, however," she said, her voice raised slightly in calling, which made him pause as he reached out for the door. "To truly turn one to your side, you must also see theirs."
"..."
He'd turned to reply, but could not bring himself to do it, and merely left without another word.
--

Maybe it was curiosity, maybe it was simply because he'd had him on the mind, but that night, when the three had made camp miles outside of town, Sokka dreamed of Iwei.
The wolf approached him, adorned in it's celestial form, warmth emanating from its body. Sokka folded his arms and looked away, deciding not to even offer any words. Much to his surprise he heard a small sharp whine from the creature. It stepped around Sokka, trying to get back into his field of vision. This created a comical scene of a large spirit playfully circling a small human as it continued to turn away.
"Nope! Nu-uh!" he said, shaking his head, and turning his nose up at it as it gently lowered its head. "You don't get off that easy, buster. I was in real trouble, you know. And you just stepped to the side. Some big tough spirit you are."
Its icy cold nose bumped his back and sent him forward slightly, forcing him to take a few steps to regain his balance.
"No. No, no, I've decided from now on that I'll forge my own destiny. I'm not letting you lead me by the nose any more."
It gently trotted in front of him, before laying its whole body down before him, staring back at him in a way Sokka could not help but find cute. It's tail picked up and began to wag. It was suddenly becoming that much harder to stay mad at Iwei.
"Nnnnope!" he said, turning away again. "Not gonna happen."
It whined, laying its head on the ground. He turned back, seeing big, celestial, puppy-dog eyes. He sighed in aggravation.
"...okay, but you've got some explaining to do," he said, pointing a finger at it. The wolf playfully snapped at Sokka's finger. Its jaw was powerful enough to bit off his arm if it willed it, but it hadn’t even come close to nipping the boy, as if conscious of its own strength and size. Sokka withdrew his hand, for while he was sure Iwei was playing, he didn't like such large teeth near comparatively delicate skin and bones.
"So, what? You just didn't feel like running after me in the moment or was this some destiny thing?"
It stared at him, its tail still wagging very slightly.
"...Ulg...why do I trust you?"
It's ears perked up and it stood once more, excitedly. Having regained Sokka’s trust it turned to the darkness and waited.
"I'm going to follow you, but I want you to know, it's my choice," he said. They walked in the darkness until they reached the arctic neutral ground again. Sokka frowned. Nothing good ever happened here. He thought about turning around until he felt Iwie lower its head to his side. Their eyes was practically the side of his hand. Sokka gently reached out and stroked the glowing fur on its cheek.
"...you sure know how to pick 'em buddy," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. It blinked at him before lifting it's head back up, and laid down. It did not lead him, as if it were giving Sokka the choice.
Drawing a deep breath, he remembered his conversation with Aunt Wu.
"Okay...what's your side, pal?" he whispered, and moved forward into the arctic scene, the landscape swallowing him and obscuring the darkness.
Sokka looked around, until he finally saw the prince's outline. He narrowed his eyes at him, and let out a breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding in.
Zuko blinked and shook his head, looking around as if just waking from some other state of mind. His eyes locked on Sokka, and they narrowed.
"Oh great, you again."
"Yeeeah...me again," he said, sheepishly waving. If he were to be persuasive in convincing Zuko to stop this crazy mission he was on, he would have to take Aunt Wu's advice. He'd have to figure out just what happened during those four years of absence. "Erm...so...how you been?" he started awkwardly.
"I don't have time for you right now," he snapped, and turned away.
"Hey, wait."
"What?"
"I…" his words fell dead on his tongue. Talking to him and feigning casual was incredibly tough. While on one hand he knew what he had to do, and on the other he was still mad. Why was it he had to be the bigger man in this situation? It was Zuko who had suddenly turned bad guy on him, after all. These thoughts wrestled in his mind as he stood there biting his lower lip. He grabbed his arm, unsure of what to say.
"Yeah, that's what I thought," said Zuko, "Look, whatever this is, it ends today."
"Huh?"
"You can't possibly say that you would want to see me again either. I'm hunting your friend, after all."
Sokka's chest gave an unpleasant twist at his words, and he couldn't quite place the guilt. His face twinged very slightly from it, but he let it fall from his face in the next moment.
"What?" asked Zuko. "Say something."
"I...I want to know why you're doing this. Why are you hunting the Avatar?"
"What do you care why?"
"Because it doesn't make sense."
Zuko huffed.
"Then I guess you didn't know me as well as you think you did."
"I know," he sighed. He once more bit the inside of his lip as he considered his next words. "But I want to. I want to know your side of this."
This gave the other teen reason to pause. His golden eyes suspiciously studied the other, as if trying to discern the truth. Sokka stepped forward and continued.
"Something happened to you, something you won't tell me but that I can see."
Zuko's right hand twitched, as if to rise and attempt to cover his scar. Instead he kept his hand firmly at his side, his fist clenched.
"I was there that night, I think," continued Sokka. "Well actually I was here, but I could hear you." he looked up to the dancing celestial lights. "You were screaming, and I felt a terrible heat on my face. It was unreal how painful it was, and I was so scared, like I was going to lose my eye, this one.” he touched the side of his own face where Zuko’s scar lay. “I couldn't be there for you then," he said, lowering his gaze back to Zuko, "but I can try now. If you let me."
The look that adorned Zuko's face was a cross between skeptical and sad. Unnerved, perhaps. Yet, after a moment of consideration, he looked down, and clenched his fists again.
"You think a few words are going to change anything that happened?" he scolded, quietly. "You made your choice when you left."
"I didn't mean to-"
"But you did!" he yelled, fire flaring around him. "You did...and now it's too late."
They were quiet again. This was going terribly, thought Sokka. Zuko was a steel wall, cold and unbreachable. Why was he being so difficult?
"You said finding the Avatar isn't about us?" Sokka started again, catching Zuko's attention. "Then what is it for?"
"Me."
Frustrated, Sokka threw up his hands.
"Why are you so crazy-angry at him? And- can I also just ask about the choice of hair, real quick?" He was sure Zuko would answer none of these questions, but at the moment he was throwing whatever question he could to make Zuko slip. If Zuko wasn't willing to work together, then Sokka was going to have to glean whatever information he could from the prince's answers.
"My hair?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.
"Just saying, pretty bald- I mean, bold choice," he pushed.
Zuko's temper seemed to be at it's limit. Fascinating.
"I didn't choose this!" he snapped.
"What, did you get in a fight with a scissorbender and lose?"
"It's a mark of banishment," he snapped. Sokka's eyes widened. Fascinating indeed.
"You're banished?" He hadn't expected that. It clicked then. "You're going after the Avatar...in exchange for something?"
"My honor," the other answered. "And my rightful place at my father's side."
A picture was starting to form in Sokka's mind, and he didn't like it one bit.
"For him?" he squawked. "That's what this is for? You're gonna hand the savior of the world over for your dad?"
"You could never understand."
"Ho-ho! You're right about that, pal! I'll never understand how anyone could be so selfish," he exclaimed, folding his arms and turning away.
"Good. Then you agree, we should stop seeing each other here."
Sokka paused at this.
"Well…" he let out a breath, uncertain. "I mean...let's not jump to-"
"Sokka!" he demanded. "What part of "we're enemies" don't you understand?"
"Because I don't think we are- or I don't want to be. Or I want to be but I can't-- I-I don't know!" he said, gripping his chest where an ache started to form.
"That's why this needs to stop. We were on opposite sides of this world, of this war, when we met. We were kids, and your spirits butted their heads into something they shouldn't have."
"Hey, they're not my spirits. No nation owns a spirit. To be honest, I don't even think they care about humans in some ways."
"Well they seem to care about this. I'll tell you what I told your wolf spirit, and it's that I'm not-"
"Wait, stop, hold it-- you met Iwei?" he exclaimed with an amazed laugh. "What? When?"
"I-I…" he faltered, losing the momentum of his anger almost immediately. "It's not important."
"I'll be the judge of that. I never knew it would visit you too."
"Yeah, well if you hadn't been in trouble, it wouldn't have needed to."
"In trouble? When was I in trouble?"
"Urg! What does it matter? You were in the spirit world, there was a lot of ash- whatever. I didn't help you, the avatar did. It just...brought me there."
"You were there?"
"Like I said, all this confusing stuff needs to stop."
"Wait...did you...carry me?" he narrowed his eyes as the slightest hints of familiarity came wafting back into memory.
"What- I- no!" his face grew red despite himself.
"Maybe it's because I'm here in the spirit world, but, I think I remember you."
"Impossible, you were unconscious the whole time."
"Kinda…?" he shrugged, a small smile dawning on his face. "I know that I couldn't move, but I think I woke up a few times before I fell asleep again."
"Urrg!" he threw his hands up in frustration, before turning away. "No. More. I never want to see you again."
"That's tough luck if you're hunting the Avatar, since I'll be with him the whole way," he smirked.
"Here," he said, tuning to him and pointing to the ground. "I can't...I can't be your friend. It's best if we just stick to being enemies."
"I know it would, but...I can't."
He simply glared at him, and the dream faded, going black.

Chapter Text

The weeks before the siege on the Northern Water Tribe had been so normal, it was almost bizarre, but also wonderful.
Yue, beautiful and kind princess Yue, had held Sokka in her gaze. He had been successful in his awkward attempts to court her, and had even made her laugh a few times as well. And yet, one night she had coldly turned him away, leaving him confused and hurt. Royals, he thought, and for a moment, wondered where the thought had come from. It was easy to forget Zuko was a prince, especially with how he chased them like a bounty hunter.
He sniffed at this, trying to find humor in his situation, but falling just short of mirth. His banishment, as it turns out, wasn’t funny. Hey lay in the room that the Northern Water Tribe had been so generous to offer the team. He buried his head in the pillow, his thoughts turning themselves over in the rough seas of his mind. Katara and Aang were off somewhere, perhaps trying to convince master Pakku to take Katara up as a pupil. That old fart had no idea who he was arguing with, thought Sokka, remembering the time his sister had accidentally cracked an entire glacier in half, revealing the Avatar. Now that he could find humor in.
The distraction was short lived, and he found himself lifting his gaze back to the icy walls of his room.
He and Zuko hadn’t spoken in a while. Sokka was glad for the break. The day’s that followed their night-time visits would drive him into a funk. Last time had been no different. His bad mood often brought up questions from Aang and Katara, questions even he wouldn’t know how to answer.
He hated lying to them, but what else was there to do? It was too early to tell them. It wasn’t that he was sure Zuko would change his ways, the thought was ridiculous to him, but he was intrigued by the fact that Zuko had tried to save him back in the spirit world. It sat in the back of his mind, holding onto a last strain of hope for the old Zuko he knew. The boy who wasn’t afraid to cry, who laughed without some malice to turn those notes sour.
He realized then that he missed his laugh. He missed the kid who’d listen to him talk about his adventures on the ice, and Zuko’s own stories of sneaking around the palace. They’d shared dreams of being brave warriors, of meeting each other out on the ice and showing Zuko everything about his home. The food, the furs, the snowy lands and the otter-penguins. He even once promised he’d come and free Zuko. The young prince would laugh and tell him he was free, that he was fine, and Sokka would disagree.
“I’d make sure your father and sister would never be mean to you again!” he’d exclaimed, a play sword held high in the air. In the spirit world, they could be as loud as they want without waking their parents.
“You’re ridiculous,” laughed a young Zuko, “I’m supposed to be with my family.”
“Not if they’re mean. You could come live with mine! My dad is nice, and never yells at me. Well, except for one time when I was climbing an ice shelf, but later he told me it was because he was scared. I ended up falling in and almost drowned!” he smiled, excitedly.
“You almost died?” asked young Zuko, his face scrunched up in worry.
“Yeah, but I’m okay. It was cold, really cold. Dad jumped in though and saved me, and Gran-gran and mom warmed me up. I never go on the ice shelves any more, but yea.”
“That’s terrible,” said Zuko, who suddenly threw his arms around Sokka. The young Water Tribe boy blinked at this.
“But it’s okay, I’m not dead!”
“But what if you were!” exclaimed Zuko, “What if you died and you never came back! I’d miss you. You’re my best friend,” he pulled back, his gaze shifting away as he wiped his eyes.
“Hey, don’t be sad. Warriors don’t cry,” said Sokka.
“Sorry,” Zuko gave a sheepish chuckle, “maybe it’s because I’m a prince that I do. Mom says that to rule, one has to care about their people. They must be grieved with every death, and care when things are hard, or something.”
“Well, if that’s the reason then I guess it’s okay. I’d be pretty sad if you disappeared.”
“Really?”
“Of course! You’re my best friend too!”
He pulled out of his memory, realizing he’d been staring vacantly at the roof of his quarters for some time. He hadn’t thought of Zuko like that in so long. He felt his stomach fall as if dropped into a deep pit, there was another source of guilt.
He remembered Suki’s warning then, not to let people like Zuko get into his head. He gave a strange choked laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Too late.” he murmured quietly to himself. He sat up, deciding to go for a walk. The cold air might do him good. He couldn't’ stand to think of who he was, who they’d been. And now he felt it happening all over again with Yue.
She’d turned so cold, and perhaps he could see why. He was a peasant, a rough Southerner unfit to save any prince or princess.
He found Yue again, and she was alone atop the bridge, the moon in view. He approached her, deciding to make a nice, clean and even break. He wasn’t going to hold it over her head, he decided, wasn’t going to be petty. This would be a clean goodbye. Zuko’s rage had taught him the importance of such things. So, he drew in a breath and announced his presence.
They’d talked, and their talk had taken a surprising turn. Just as Sokka was admonishing himself for all his faults, her lips had found their way onto his, silencing him. Well, that was not how he thought this would go. Upon learning of her love for him, she had also revealed why they could not be together. A betrothal necklace lay delicately set around her throat, silencing her love for Sokka.
“It’s my duty,” she explained, “It’s for my country, my people. This marriage means something.”
“You mean something,” Sokka argued. He grabbed Yue’s hand tenderly but pleading. “You are not just a thing to marry off, you are Yue, a person with her own thoughts, her own feelings and wants. Yue, what do you want?”
“I want...what’s best for my people. I’m sorry, Sokka, but we cannot be together.”
She’d ment her word to be final, and turned away. The touch of her kiss lingered on his lips as she walked off the bridge, not once looking back at him.
Still, he would not let that be the end of it-- destiny would not best him so easily. He saw her again, insisting that it was a mere friendly visit, and it was. They mostly talked, and laughed together, shared jokes and told stories. She was beautiful, like fresh snow, thought Sokka. While obvious, it was true. He was enamored by everything she was, from the stands of white hair, to her laugh, to the way she scrunched up her nose at him after a silly comment. Sometimes, she would say that their seeing each other was wrong, but Sokka would push her worries aside, assuring her that they weren’t doing anything wrong by this. In his eyes, they weren’t, not really. They hadn’t kissed since that one night, and though he longed for her touch, he respected her duties.

Then, the ash fell from the sky like black snow. It was happening again, the Fire Nation was attacking. A war broke out, and in all the tumultuous confusion of emotions, Sokka also wondered if, with their approach, he might see the prince again.

He’d been assigned to protect Yue, a duty he gladly took up. Nothing would harm her, so long as he was with her, he was determined. As predicted, where the Avatar was, Zuko was never far behind. He’d taken his friend out from under Katara’s watchful eye, and kidnapped him. Quickly, with Yue and Katara, they mounted Appa and searched around. Katara was the one to spot Aang, or perhaps Aang’s spirit as it rocketed across the sky and back into his body. Awake, the Avatar fought off his captive, enough to give the gang a clear view of his yellow and orange jump suit against a wintry white landscape. Landing, his sister was out first, a waterbender at the ready.
“Here for a rematch?” Zuko said, raising his own fists. Sokka couldn’t help but scoff at the notion. He could hear himself whispering the word “moron” at the Fire Prince.
“Trust me Zuko, it won’t be much of a match,” and with that, his sister easily raised a column of ice from the glacier he stood on, and slammed him back down, defeating the hot-headed prince instantly. Sokka was already off the saddle and heading to Aang’s aid. He made quick work of the ropes, remarking on their their fine material. Aang quickly got out of his binds.
“The Moon Spirit’s in trouble!” Aang announced, and headed to Appa.
The dire situation called for movement, but Sokka lingered, his eyes focused on Zuko’s unconscious form lying half-buried in snow.
He remembered when they were kids when Zuko would always asked about Sokka’s adventure’s on the ice. He use to be astounded by his stories and awed by the danger of such a place. He would tell him to be careful out there, and mostly, how he’d always wanted to see it.
“Welcome to the north,” Sokka muttered bitterly and moved to follow his friends.
And yet...
“Sokka, come on!” Katara urged over the howling winds. The blizzard was really coming down, and they were all freezing. One wouldn’t last very long out here.
“...Yeah, hold on,” he called back, and began dragging the prince out of the snow.
“What are you doing?” asked Katarra.
“He...well, I mean, he’ll die out here. Come on, the guy’s a Fire Nation wimp, no way they can take the cold.”
“So you’re going to save him?” she asked, looking at Sokka like he’d grown a third head.
“He’s right,” said Aang, getting down from Aapa to help Sokka. “He’ll freeze to death out here if we don’t do something.”
Katara went quiet, possibly mulling over her own morals, verses taking the man who’d been trying to kill them along with them. Sokka got up into the saddle first. Aang, utilizing his airbending, threw Zuko’s unconscious body up for Sokka to catch. He did so, and Aang quickly found his place atop Appa’s head to take off and head back to the Northern Water Tribe.
Sokka held onto him as they lifted into the air, waiting for their ride to become stable before releasing him. The weight and warmth of Zuko pressing into him was a comfort, though he was loathed to admit it and even winced at the thought. It reminded him of those few moments in the spirit realm when he was semi-conscious. Zuko had carried him, and now he was returnign the favor.
Appa was well up above most of the harsh winds, and it was safe to let go of him. He set him down, and using the ropes that had tied Aang, bound Zuko. He was quiet as he did so, thoughtful, precise, trying to ignore the strange feelings of heartbreak and anger that flared up in him. He couldn't help but notice the bruises and scrapes on the Prince’s face. The bruise was old, by a few days probably, but still deeply purple, and the cuts were scabbed over and healing. Just what had he been through before this? Zuko was a banished prince, but what did that mean? Was he also being hunted? He went after the Avatar with such fervor, like his life depended on it. Did it?
“Sokka?” asked a gentle voice. He turned to look at Yue, her kind eyes curious as his pensive stare. He shifted his weight to sit back next to her. “You stare as if you know him.”
“He’s an enemy,” he said, quickly. “Well get you back safe and hand him over to the authorities,” he said, trying not to think about the actual weight of his words.
Suddenly, the moon above them began to cast a terrible red light. While fear filled every soul who looked upon it, Yue seemed to be in physical pain because of it.
“Are you okay?” asked Sokka.
“I feel faint,” she gasped back, maintaining composure through it. Even Aang was suffering, holding his head as he confirmed that the moon spirit was in trouble. “I owe the moon spirit my life,” she continued, as if to answer Sokk’s confused look. “When I was born, I was very sick, and very weak. Most babies cry when they’re born, but I was born as if I were asleep…”
Her tale continued, recounting how her father prayed to the moon spirit for his daughter’s life, and how it was miraculously granted. Now, part of her life was sustained by the spirit, and now that it was in danger, so was she, it seemed.

--

When Zuko next awoke it was to the sound of his Uncle’s voice. The man was yelling, but he couldn’t quite make out his words at the moment. They were muffled at first, possibly from the slight concussion he sustained from being slammed into the glacier he’d stood on. The night sky was an unnatural crimson color that made his stomach turn, the light bleeding from the moon itself. The young prince moved to put a hand to his pounding headache, but found they were bound behind his back, kept in place by rope. As he became more steadily aware of everything happening around him he heard another voice. There was no mistaking General Zhao’s haughty tone. The man was close by, and Zuko preyed he did not yet know of his survival, if only so that he might have the upper hand should they fight. Freeing himself from his binds was no real problem, his firebending was enough to easily release him.
Now free he turned to look ahead of himself and saw a Water Tribe woman. Shocked by her presence, Zuko froze, hoping she hadn’t heard him. Her hair was a pure white color, or would be if the surrounding light were not such a violent shade of red. Her attention was pointed toward the scene of whatever was happening.
“Whatever you do to that moon spirit,” he could hear his Uncle say, “I will unleash unto you ten fold! Let it go. Now!”
Curious, and silent as the night, Zuko moved to look over the edge of Appa’s saddle at the stand off that was going on before them.
His Uncle’s threat seemed to do the trick. Zhao, unwilling to fight the old firebending master, did kneel and release the spirit from the burlap sack he held it in. It slipped quietly back into the water and rejoined the other spirit in their eternal dance. The light of the moon was once more a tranquil white.
It was a short lived victory, for in a moment befitting that of a petulant toddler, Zhao lashed out at his defeat with a stream of fire. It struck the spirit dead.
The moon vanished.
The sky turned a horrible black color, and what little light there was cast shades of harsh black and white. The stark contrast made Zuko’s head hurt and his stomach turn all over again. An instinctual dread of a world suddenly and horribly out of balance filled him. Fighting ensued, his Uncle making good on his promise. Zuko silently peered over the saddle to watch the Admiral flee before his Uncle could get to him. While the others were distracted, he decided to take his chance at revenge.
He slipped off the bison, his eyes trained to the darkness where he watched the merest outline of Zhao try to escape. He moved to go after him, but paused when he heard someone else decent off the bison. The woman had rushed to Sokka’s side, her shocked face pointed to the waters where the white fish Zhao had attacked floated lifelessly.
“There’s no hope now, It’s over,” spoke Yue mournfully.
Sokka reached out and put an arm around her, holding her to him and she wept. With everyone distracted, this was the perfect opportunity to escape.
Yet Zuko stared a moment more than he knew he should. Every second that passed was a chance for Zhao’s escape, yet he could not help but watch how Sokka quietly tried to reassure this woman, holding her so protectively.
There was no room for whatever he was feeling at the moment, and decided to just shove it in the back of his mind. Turning his attention to well deserved revenge instead, he slipped quietly into the shadows, and after Zhao.

“No, it’s not over,” stated Aang, his eyes glowing with a rage Sokka had only witnessed from the boy once, in the Southern Air temple. Connecting with the remaining spirit, that of the ocean, Aang disappeared beneath the surface of the sanctuary’s pond. When he emerged, he had joined with the spirit at its watery core, and went off to avenge the moon spirit. The others were left there, quietly stunned by the sudden loss of the moon.
Iroh was with them, his presence noted, but his sorrow at the shared loss of the celestial body made him a welcomed presence at the time. He’d turned against Zhao, softening Sokka’s opinion of the man and reconfirming the stories Zuko had told about him when they were children.
He remained next to Yue, watching as Iroh gently released the spirit's body back into the water. It floated listlessly in the empty waters.
“It’s too late…” Katara said, her voice hushed, “It’s dead.”
Silence once again overtook them, until Iroh chanced a glance to Yue. His eyes widened in that instant.
“You have been touched by the moon spirit,” he gasped. “Some of its life is in you.”
“Yes, you’re right,” she said, lifting her head. Sokka’s hackles raised for reason yet unknown, but when she moved he felt his fear confirmed. “Maybe I can give it back.”
He grabbed her hand on instinct, as if holding her back from some terrible misstep.
“No! You don’t have to do that,” his words rushed out of him before he could stop himself.
“It’s my duty, Sokka,” she answered.
“I won’t let you. Your father told me to protect you,” he said, his grip tightening slightly on her hand. It was a weak defense, the dire need of the moon and restored balance hinged on her sacrifice, but he could not seem to let go.
“I have to do this,” was all she said, before gently slipping her hand from his grasp. He could not argue, only watch as Iroh once more picked up the moon spirit’s body, offering it up for Yue to heal, somehow. A magnificent pure white light shown from the two, and with her last breath drawn, she collapsed backward. Sokka held her, and with grains of hope that trickled quickly out of his grasp, he checked her pulse, only to confirm the worst.
“She’s gone. She’s gone,” he said, and held her tight.

Destiny, duty, fate, spirits, all things seemed cruel to him as he buried his face in her shoulder. He had promised her father, more than that he had promised himself, that he would not fail. He had learned so much, come so far, survived every encounter and battle-- he was sure he could protect one person. Just one. But laying lifeless in his arms was another tick on the board of those lost to the war.
At his lowest, he suddenly felt her weight lift form his arms, and for a moment his heart leapt at the thought of her awakening, only to find she was disappearing like early morning fog. Gone, now physically as well, he turned to the light of the pond that now glowed with the same magnificent purity that had shown upon her initial sacrifice. Then in the next moment, her hallowed figure appeared before them. Her garments had changed from her parka, to white, flowing, robes befitting that of a goddess; she was reborn. Her gaze was filled with love and hope, and she drifted to Sokka, who took her in with breathless awe and wonder.
“Goodbye, Sokka,” she said, and touched his cheek. “I will always watch over you.”
And she sealed her promise with a gentle kiss. The shock gave way to the warmth of her, and he only reacted in time to kiss back, before once more he felt her fade away.

The moon returned to shine it’s light upon the world.

--

The siege ended quickly after. Any remaining Fire Nation ships retreated immediately. Sokka had remembered that they still had Zuko on Appa’s back. He went to check on him, only to find he was gone. Singed and frayed ropes lay in his place.
In that same moment, Iroh stood to leave, brushing his robes off and lifting his hood on his head.
“Wait,” said Sokka, who reached for his club at his side. The general turned on him, lifting an eyebrow. The teen considered his actions a moment, before he took his hand off the handle of his club and let his arm fall to his side.
“You’re nephew’s gone,” he said instead. “We captured him and brought him back when he went north into the tundra, but he escaped.”
Katara’s eyes went wide from the news. That, and possibly because Sokka was speaking so frankly to the Fire Nation General.
“I see,” Iroh said. “I have a feeling I know which direction he went. He will not be hard to find.”
“Well you might want to find him soon before he has any more bright ideas that’ll get him stranded again, or worse.”
To this, Iroh chuckled.
“Oh ho, and to what do I owe such mercy?”
“You helped us, so you get one pass. Just find him and get out of here.”
“As you wish,” he nodded, his kind but curious eyes lingering on him a moment more before he turned and walked away.

He and Katara remained there a moment more, watching him leave, before she turned back to Sokka.
“Why did you do that?” she asked. Her tone was stunned, rather than accusatory, perhaps still shocked from everything that had just happened.
“Because he helped us.”
“But Zuko didn’t.”
He paused a moment before speaking again.
“Zuko is his nephew. If anything happened to him, it would hardly be repaying the man back.”
“But they’re Fire Nation,” Katara insisted, her tone taking on a bit more life to him. “I’m not saying that this man did not do us a great favor, but it was because of him that Yue--”
“I know!” Sokka exclaimed. His outburst served to silence his sister rather than throw anger at her. “I know…”
“I’m not saying it was his fault…” she continued gently. “I’m just saying...Zuko will come after us again. So why did you want him to escape? You were ready to hand him over.”
“It seemed like the right thing to do is all. It seemed like the right way to thank him. Plus, there was no stopping the guy, you saw him fight. Better for him to get him and Zuko away from here as fast as possible so that we can focus on other things.”
“...that’s surprisingly mature of you,” she said.
“Hey,” he whined.
“No, really Sokka. For a guy whose all ready to kick firebender butt any time, you really thought that through. Dad would be proud,” she smiled, and so did he.
“Thanks, Katara.”
She stood and embraced him, and he hugged her back. His gaze wandered up from the pond, and to the moon.
She let go of him and walked to Appa.
“Come on, we have to find Aang and make sure he’s okay.”
“You’re the boss,” he sighed, and followed after her.

As soon as the threat of the Fire Nation had stopped an emergency meeting had been called for the council with the presence of the Avatar and his company. There was no time to rest in between. For Sokka’s part, he felt he could drop dead right then. He was forced to push everything that had just happened to the back of his mind, to listen and be quiet while the reports were given.
The truth of General Zhao’s defeat was unclear, but some had sworn that they’d seen him dragged beneath the icy waters by Tui in their watery form. Sokka had ventured to ask if anyone was with Zhao, or if anyone else was dragged with him.
“There was someone else with him, it looked like they tried to pull him out, but only Zhao was taken,” the Water Tribes man had reported.
“And what did this person look like?” asked Sokka, drawing surprise from everyone. He might have spoken out of turn, or perhaps disrespected the authority of the room, but exhaustion pushed formalities aside.
“They wore white, and were mostly bald, save for the patch of hair drawn up into a ponytail. It looked like a top knot.”
Sokka’s heart thudded painfully in his chest.
“And what happened to him?” he continued. “Did he also…?”
“No,” the other man shook his head, slightly confused. “No this person was left alone.”
“You’re sure?” asked Sokka. “Did you see where he went? Was he captured?”
“After the Admiral was taken down I quickly left to find reinforcements. I didn’t see him again and none of the enemy soldiers captured fit his description.”
“Thank you,” said Chief Arnook, his voice cutting through any more questions Sokka might have and silence them. “I believe we have all the confirmation we need. You are excused.”
The soldier bowed, and took his leave of the room.
“Well, there we have it,” Chief Arnook continued, addressing everyone. “It seems the threat has been neutralized. The Fire Nation has retreated entirely, and the Admiral behind this disastrous event got what he deserved. I will leave it to the council to see to the people and their needs as we rebuild. But first,” he turned to the team, and looking at Aang, he bowed, deeply. The council followed his action, also bowing to them. “I wish to pay respect to the Avatar. If you had not been here, I imagine things would have been all the worse for the world.”
Aang was visibly uncomfortable by the gesture. Unsure how to receive it at first, he then quickly bowed back.
“I’m sorry I couldn't do more,” he responded.
“You did what you could,” the Chief responded, and stood back up. “And my daughter did what was needed of her. Now,” he said and turned to address the room. “I wish to adjourn this meeting. There’s much work to do.”
The council bowed and filed out quietly. The Chief then turned to the group.
“Will you be staying with us long?”
“No,” Katara said, taking a step forward. “I’m afraid we need to get going as soon as it’s possible so that Aang can find an earthbeinding teacher.”
“I see. Then you plan to leave today?”
“I’m afraid so,” nodded Aang. “I’m sorry we cant’ stay and help.”
“There are more than enough hands here to do the work, and I agree with your decision. I will make sure you have provisions for your trip, and send word ahead so that you might be received at your next destination.”
“Thank you Cheif Arnook,” bowed Aang.
He nodded to them, and they began to head out, until the Chief called out.
“Sokka, a word if you please.”
Sokka’s heart sank in his chest, but he turned and bowed.
“Of course.”
The other two looked back at Sokka with question, as if unsure whether they should leave him or not.
“I’ll catch up,” he whispered, and put on the best smile he could to reassure them. They didn't seem convinced, but left all the same.
“Come with me, if you will,” he said, and lead him away. They exited the room and stood on the landing that overlooked the entire village. They stood together a moment, and the seconds that ticked by unnerved Sokka. The Chief's eyes were pointed not to his nation, but to where the moon hung in the early morning sky.
Finally, he drew in a breath, as if organizing his thoughts.
“I wanted to thank you, for being with my daughter in her final moments.”
His words washed over him like a wave that threatened to beat him down into the icy depth of the sea itself. Thank him, thought Sokka bitterly, he had failed, and miserably.
“I’m…” he paused, careful how to phrase his next words. “I’m not sure...I’ve done anything...worth your gratitude.”
“No, Sokka, you helped Yue to her destiny.”
The word bit bitterly at his heart, and his face twinged in response. He did not reply, only stared at the ground in silence, not daring to contradict the man’s grief.
“The spirits gave me a vision when Yue was born,” the Chief continued, and Sokka’s gaze turned to him, shocked. “I saw a beautiful, brave young woman become the moon spirit. So you see, I knew this day would come,” he said and lowered his gaze.
He was unsure what to say. So the spirits had known, had forward this man of his daughter’s fate. If they had known, surely they could have known of Zhao, of the danger the spirit was in. They could have warned them, warned Aang sooner or could have given the chief a vision of the invasion, so why had they chosen to take her away? It didn't seem fair, and he wanted to scream this fact.
“You must be so proud,” was all Sokka could muster in the end, not wishing to tread on her father’s grief.
“So proud,” he nodded, slowly, “...and sad.”

Chapter Text

It would take the Gaang three days to get to the small Earth kingdom outpost. Along the way, nights were spent camping outside. Now more southerly, the group could sleep under the open sky with little to no trouble. Yet sleep was difficult for Sokka, all the same.
Part of his insomnia was fueled by spite; being awake would keep Iwei from finding him. However, most of it was that, despite his exhaustion, he just could find the peace of mind to close his eyes. He’d see Yue drifting before him when he did. So he preferred to keep his eyes open.
She wasn’t dead, not in the way he was used to thinking, at least. In that way, she was always with him, every night, looking down on him. He thought of the moon as her, it’s light was her light. She would sit up there, forever now.

He sat up one night, looking to the moon. He’d ventured a few feet away from the others and behind a boulder to silently observe her.
“So, how’s everything up there?” he asked the open air, his voice quiet. “Not cold, is it? I bet it is. I bet it’s pretty much just all snow up there. At least you can watch the seasons as they pass here. Not too bad a deal…” his words trailed off, and he merely went quiet.
It wasn’t fair, was it? He asked himself.
“I wish you’d been my tether,” he whispered. He wiped a few freely falling tears, his gaze remained trained on her. “How were you so brave?” he asked. “How come you could accept destiny so easily?”
A few crickets could be heard chirping in the night. He hugged his knees closer to his chest.
“There’s something I need to do, someone I’ve been avoiding. But if you knew him, Yue, you’d know why. We were friends, a long time ago...well, four years isn’t that long I guess. He’s so different though, so mean.”
He scratched the back of his head, trying to find the right words, what he was trying to say?
“He wasn’t always like that though. He use to laugh all the time, and he had the biggest grin. It was like his eyes would light up when he laughed. I miss that…”
He quietly poked at a pebble rolling it gently as he sat in the silence, under her light.
“Anyway, the point is, he’s my tether, but I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with that. Am I...am I supposed to help him? And if I am, how?”
He didn’t expect an answer, and he received none. He merely took in a deep breath and let it out.
“I met a woman who said to change someone I need to see their side too. Well I tried that and it just made things more confusing. I mean, seriously, what do the spirits want from me? You’re up with them, right? Can you tell me?”
A gentle breeze rolled past him. It was cool, and rolled off his cheeks like a hand gently stroking it. Another tear fell from his eye as he stared at her, and eventually, let sleep take him.

Iwei found him in his dreamless sleep, as he’d suspected. Iwei stood in the darkness, but Sokka could feel no warmth from their presence.
“You again…” he huffed. The wolf looked down at him serenely. He glared up at it. “You know what happened, don’t you? You can sense it, I bet. Or maybe you and your spirit buddies all talked about it.”
A wind picked up, and brought with it a veil of snow. It washed over them, and Sokka was suddenly standing in the tundra. He’d not been led, he’d been forced here. Anger flared up inside him.
“No!” he yelled, balling up his fists. “You don’t get to just force me to go here and there. You don’t get to just infer my path. I make my choices!”
The wind howled as Iwei’s stare remained trained on him.
“You knew, didn’t you! You knew about Yue, and her destiny! Was it you? Did you give Chief Arnook his vision?”
Silence.
“You’re the light-footed traveler. You cross the bridge of celestial lights to our realm to give us visions, and bring us together. Of course you were the one. Of course you knew. How could you,” he said, his tone biting. It’s silence only enraged Sokka, and he felt tears biting at the corners of his eyes. “You could have warned them! You could have warned them about Zhao-- prevented all of it! You could have saved her! Why? Why did she have to die?”
His words were choked once more, and he swallowed his sob.
“You’re selfish!” he yelled. “You’re selfish-- and so full of yourselves! You play us like we’re tiles in some cosmic pai sho game-- and I’m sick of it! I’m sick of it and I’m done with you! I never want to see you again!”
Iwei circled Sokka, quietly, and for a moment, he wondered if the wolf might attack him for such a violent outburst. How much say did he have in their relationship, a human and a spirit guide. Who was superior?
When Iwei finished circling him, it lifted its head and howled. A stronger wind picked up then, and the snow, the tundra, the sky, all blew away in the gust. When Sokka opened his eyes, he saw that he was in a swampy surrounding. Iwei was different now. They had lost their glow, and had turned grey with brown streaks across its pelt in the place where white lights had once streaked across it.
The swampy area was dark, and thought he could see, there was strangely no moon.
“Where are we?” he demanded. Iwei answered only by starting to walk. “No, I’m not following you.”
The wolf huffed, but kept walking.
“I mean it!” called Sokka.
It kept going, walking behind large mangroves and out of sight.

“Whew, I thought he’d never leave,” spoek a voice.

Sokka jumped and turned. Before him a little meditation platform was set squat int he mud. A spirit, by the looks of it, sat cross-legged atop it, it’s fingers connected in some mudra atop its knees. The creature looked like a monkey, with long fur that bordered it’s red face. It wore large wooden beads around its neck, and a robe sash, familiar to what Sokka had seen Air Nomads wear in their mural depictions.
“Ummm…?” wondered Sokka allowed.
“Shh!” the monkey silenced him.
“Hey, do you know how to get out of here?”
“Yes,” it answered, irritated.
“...can you tell me?”
“No.”
“What? Why?”
“I thought when that light-footed flea bag left he’d take you with it,” the spirit grumbled, “or at least you’d have no reason to speak, and yet you chatter. Hush up and find your own way out.”
“How can I do that if you won’t tell me?” he argued.
“Oh, so I must be the one to tell you where to go and what to do? You were pretty adamant about not being led moments ago.”
“That’s different,” he exclaimed.
“Is it? You humans are so flippant.”
Sokka yelled enraged and threw his hands up.
“And you spirits are jerks! So what’s your title then, huh? Jerky the jerk spirit who offers jerk-wisdom?”
“Such a clever little creature, aren’t you,” it asked, opening one eye to him. “I’m sure with such wit you could find your way out on your own,” it offered sarcastically.
Sokka frowned at him, but decided that arguing with the spirit was not helping. He turned and looked around, and began heading in a direction.
He walked away for some time, his feet trudging through the muck and mud. As he wandered, looking for a way around, he came to a clearing. His heart dropped and frustration flared when he saw the familiar little meditation platform.
“What?!” exclaimed Sokka.
“Oh great, you’re back. And you brought your voice with you.”
“How is that possible? I walked in a straight line!”
“How indeed.”
Sokka went quiet, and merely turned back.
Fifteen minuets, or what felt like it, went by and he found himself in the same place.
“Arrugh!”
“It’s like watching a fly buzz about in a glass container,” muttered the spirit.
“You shut up!” Sokka exclaimed, pointing at him. “I can’t believe this! I can’t believe Iwei would strand me here.”
The other gave a short laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“Odd place to strand a human.”
“You’re telling me.”
“I am certainly not. If you’re too dim to see that you are in the cross roads, the realm which leads to all spirits and their realm, then bring you here was like casting pearls before cow-swine.”
“The cross roads?”
“Yes, little chatter-child. The cross roads,” it sighed.
Sokka paused and turned.
“If that’s the case then...how come I keep coming back to this place?”
“It appears you don’t actually wish to leave.”
“No, I think I really, really, want to get away from this place.”
“Then do you know where you want to go?”
He moved to argue, but stopped, finding that he was, in fact, torn at what the answer was.
“I...want to wake up.”
“Then do so.”
“I...can’t.”
“Typical,” it huffed.
“I want answers. I want to know what I’m supposed to do, why I’m tethered to who I am.”
“Can’t you be more specific?”
“That’s not an unreasonable thing to ask,” he frowned.
“And yet, you keep winding up here. Lucky me.”
Sokka glowered at him before looking away to think more clearly.
“I think I want to know what I’m supposed to do for him. Am I supposed to help him even though he’s turned into a jerk?”
“Does the knowing make a difference? Does holding all the answers help you? Does it dictate your decisions?”
“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with knowing all the information before making a move.”
“And what of compassion?” it suddenly opened its eyes and turned on him. “You can be greedy little creatures, you humans. Scrounging, planning, obsessing-- all so bound to your whys and your reasons that it keeps you from acting from the heart. It creates borders, walls, enemies, war.”
This shut Sokka up, and he stared at the spirit, stunned. It eyed him once, before turning its head back and closed their eyes again. Something familiar about this struck him in the heart. War turning his sense of compassion? He didn’t like where it was heading.
“So you want answers, eh? Then go, search for them. I warn you though, that the knowing can be a burden. Be sure you are ready for such responsibility before you continue.”
Sokka took in a deep breath, and turned back to the mangroves and swamp. He wasn’t sure if he was asking any questions in his mind, but he could feel something tug at his spirit. His tether, though he couldn’t see it, was pulling at him. It wanted to show him something, something he’d rather have kept buried. The sooner he followed it, he reasoned, the sooner he’d get out of this place.
He walked further into the swamp, following the feeling of being pulled along, and the scenery began to change. He was at once swallowed by a bright white light. When it’s light faded, Sokka had to take a second for his eyes to adjust to the surrounding darkness. He thought at first that he was in the realm of void again, but the longer he looked around the more he could see shapes, outlined by moonlight. He looked around the familiar scene of Zuko’s room. He was shocked. Was Zuko home now?

“Sokka, it’s not my fault--”
He turned, hearing the familiar voice, only to stare in shock. Standing in front of him was the prince, but as his eleven year old self. He wasn’t looking at him, but at Sokka’s own younger self, who was staring back at Zuko with a mix of horror and sadness.
“I didn’t want to become prince. My Grandfather-- he died-- my father wasn’t even in line to be Fire Lord, that was my uncle--”
He remembered this, it was when he’d found out who Zuko was. But why was he witnessing this painful scene again?
“You’re a part of the royal family,” said Sokka’s younger reflection, “you knew! You knew-- everything I was saying about the Fire Nation-- you never spoke up.”
“I-I didn’t think it mattered at first-- and then your mom died and I knew you wouldn’t--”
“Was it you?” he cut him off, “did you tell someone my tribe had a waterbender? Is that why it was raided?”
“No! I would never!”
“Liar!”
“Sokka, I mean it! I would never tell-- my father didn’t even believe me when I first told him about you, and my mother made me swear never to talk about you again.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know but she seemed scared. She made me promise. No one knows about you and me.”
He wanted to be angry, he wanted to disregard Zuko’s words and just be mad at him, but he could not deny the sincerity and sadness within those guilty eyes.
“Why…?” he croaked out as sorrow tore at his heart. “Why…?” he pleaded again.
He looked to this sad scene to the memory of Iwei, who had stood over him. And when the two disappeared, the young prince remained frozen in shock.
“Sokka…” the young boy breathed. “Sokka…? Don’t go…! Sokka I’m sorry-- it’s not my fault! Please…” he begged, his voice giving way to sobs. “I...I don’t want to be alone.”
He watched this shadow of the past, a terrible pang in his chest. Forgetting himself, he approached this younger version of his friend, but in the next moment it all began to fade until disappearing completely.
He was back in the darkness, could hear his voice reverberate around him in echoes.
“We’re enemies. Why’d you show him to me?”
“He’s the enemy.”
“I don’t want to see him anymore.”
He covered his ears against them, fending off his guilt as best he could, until he heard the stark sob of his friend once more.
“I don’t want to be alone…!”
--
He opened his eyes and looked to the morning sky above him. From the quiet, he assumed that Aang and Katara were still asleep. He rubbed his eyes and shivered from the morning chill.
“Okay…” he whispered, shuddering. “Okay...that was a bad move on my part. I admit. I should have been more there for him. Fine, no big deal,” he sighed, though it felt like quite the opposite. He wiped a hand down his face, as if to throw away the mix of feelings and grogginess that clouded his mind. His gaze returned to the moonless sky above him as day took its rightful place. Yue was gone, yes, but Zuko was still here. He could not help Yue, could not steer her from her destiny, he thought the last word bitterly. He might, however, be able to help Zuko to theirs, whatever that meant.
He remembered the young prince’s smile.
They were friends, once. Perhaps they could be friends again. The Zuko he’d once known was surely in there, somewhere. He just needed to coax it out. Make it feel like old times.
Yes. He would help Zuko, make up for the time he wasn’t there, the time he left. He was different now, he told himself. He had grown, and he knew what it meant for a man to be there for the people he cared about. He stood and walked around the boulder, looking to the sleeping forms of his friends. He would be there for them too, he thought with a confident nod. While he could not yet tell them about him and Zuko, it didn’t matter. He would fix this. They had one more day before they would reach the out post, and he needed to show them he was alright, that they could depend on him and whatever came next. So with that, he quietly crept closer and began to make a fire to start breakfast.

--

Zuko and his Uncle had spent a horrible week drifting along the arctic until they’d managed to find a Fire Nation settlement. The warm shores welcomed their pitiful raft and they found help.
Dreamless sleep, food, and baths, had been just enough to bring the prince and his Uncle back from the edge of death. His health restored, he found he was more determined than ever to hunt down the Avatar. That he had survived such impossible odds surely meant that such things were his only destiny. He sat currently in a small open room with a kneeling table. The paper screened doors were slid open so that he might enjoy the view of the enclosed garden. He heard someone approch him, and turned his gaze to spot his Uncle, looking down at him, dressed in fine Fire Nation robes.
“Ah, nephew,” Iroh greeted as he entered, “I am relieved to see you taking time to enjoy a cup of tea and a tranquil moment.”
“It isn’t so tranquil with you here,” he said without meaning to.
“Perhaps not,” he laughed a warm laugh that came from the belly. He found his way to the other side of the kneeling table, taking a seat on a floor cushion. “So then, where are your thoughts today, Prince Zuko.”
“I’m gathering my strength, healing, making sure that the next time I come across the Avatar, it will be his last.”
“I see,” said Iroh, the humor dropping from his voice as he too looked out to the garden. “You know, it was the Avatar and his friends that saved you from the tundra.”
“I am...aware,” he said, quietly.
“When one’s life is saved, a gesture of gratitude is often in order.”
“My kind gesture is to allow him this time to run and hide. It won’t matter, as I’ll catch up to him.”
There was a silence between them, a stiff one that Zuko could infer his Uncle did not approve of him, but he would not speak against him.
“And what of the Water Tribe boy?”
Zuko choked on his tea mid-sip. He coughed and tried to regain his breath while also mustering up his voice to speak.
“Wh--*cough-cough*-- what? What Water Tribe-- how do you--”
“When you were quite young, prince Zuko, you once told me about your dreams you’d have. A boy with blue eyes and dark hair would come to visit you, and you’d play together until you woke up.”
“Th-those were just dreams,” he said, turning away.
There was silence again.
“I could not help but notice those two children who travel with the Avatar are also--”
“It doesn’t matter,” Zuko said, cutting him off sharply. “He doesn’t matter.”
“So it is him.”
Zuko didn’t answer.
“When you were young, you told me this boy was guided to you by a wolf, have you ever seen it?”
“Yes.”
“It seems then that this is a divine tether.”
“Divine tether?”
“I believe the wolf is Iwei, a guiding spirit who ushers you through their realm to meet someone of importance, someone you will grow close to, and even come to love.”
Zuko recoiled at this.
“Not gonna happen,” he snapped quickly. “I know my destiny.”
“Destiny is a funny thing, Prince Zuko,” started Iroh, “I believe I have said something like this to you before, but it remains true. Who you are, and what you make of your destiny is your own. Yet, you two met, it is because your paths are intertwined somehow. Make of that what you will,” he said, his tone light. And with that the old general stood up and quietly left him to his thoughts.

--

Perhaps it was his conversation with his uncle that had drove his thoughts to Sokka. He lay in bed, the curtains to his room drawn, darkness around him.
“Huh, is this where you are now?” asked a familiar voice.
Zuko sat up, eyes wide as he looked to the figure in the corner of the room. Sokka lifted a hand and waved it awkwardly at him.
“What are you doing here?” asked Zuko, his voice filled with venom. He did not know when he fell asleep, but if Sokka was here, then that could be the only explanation. “No wait, don’t tell me. Here to rub your victory in my face?”
“Not exactly, no,” said Sokka putting a hand on the back of his neck.
A short pause followed, and Zuko watched him carefully as Sokka searched for the words.
“I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Are you?” he huffed and threw the covers off and sat up. “Or are you just looking to find my position to see how close I am to finding you and your buddies?”
“No, I didn’t come here to spy on you.”
“You think after what happened in the North I’d be dumb enough to believe you’d be happy to see me?”
“Happy isn’t the right word, just glad.”
“Glad?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Come on, who do you think dragged your sorry butt from the snow and onto Appa’s back?”
Zuko frowned at him, remembering his Uncle’s words.
“That was...foolish of you,” was all he could muster.
A silence.
“Wow, is that what manners are in the Fire Nation?” Sokka chucked quickly, folding his arm and smirking at Zuko.
“You know what I mean. You shouldn’t have saved me.”
“Oh right, because we’re enemies.”
“Yes.”
“You’re so dumb.”
“...what?”
“You heard me. You’re an idiot!” he said, suddenly mad. “Dude-- you attacked waterbenders on their own turf, during a full moon. I mean, where were you even going out there? You could have gotten both you and Aang killed!” he said. “And man, what if you just disappeared on me like that? What if we didn’t find you and you were both stranded out there?”
“That wouldn’t have happened, I would have figured something out.”
“Yeah right. You’re lucky we found you.”
“You’re lucky we’re talking,” he shot back, irritably.
They went quiet. Each turning away, turning their thoughts inward. A few moment’s pass before Sokka spoke up again.
“Are you in trouble?” he asked, quietly.
“What are you talking about?”
“When I saw you last you looked pretty beat up. My sister didn’t do that, those bruises were too old. So, what happened?”
“...General Zhao,” he admitted, narrowing his eyes with a vengeful tone.
“The guy who hurt the moon spirit?”
“He tried to have me killed, all so he could have his hands on the Avatar. Called me a traitor to the nation. Doesn’t matter anymore, he’s gone now.”
“Yeah, I heard what happened to him. Hear you were there too. Too bad Tui got to him before me,” he said, punching his fist into his hand. Zuko huffed.
“Oh yeah? And what would you have done?”
“I would have taught him what for,” he said. “The man tried to kill you! He’s scum.”
Zuko looked at him with shock. Sokka looked away.
“He also took someone away that I really cared about…”
“Who?”
“It doesn’t matter,” sighed Sokka, taking in a breath. “Well, she matters, but you two never met, is what I mean.”
Zuko thought back to the woman with white hair, how Sokka had held her as she wept for the spirit.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” said Zuko, and this time it was Sokka’s turn to look at him with quiet shock.
“Thanks,” he responded. “I’m...really glad he didn’t take you too.”
“I don’t understand how you can say that. We’re still enemies.”
“Look, I may not entirely understand why you’re doing this, why it’s so important to you that you’d ignore why that’s bonkers, but I…” he sighed and walked over to him. Zuko tensed, ready to fight should Sokka make any sudden moves to attack, but the teen just went and sat down at the foot of his bed. He pulled his feet up and away in response, flustered and confused by the completely normal action. Sokka put his head in his hands, ignoring how tense Zuko was. “I miss you,” he admitted quietly. “I miss who we use to be, and I want to go back to that.”
“We can’t.”
“I know. So I want to try something else,” he lifted his head out of his hands and turned to him. “I want to try to know you as you are now. For real. Anything you got to say, I’ll listen.”
Sokka stared him down with absolute seriousness. Zuko narrowed his eyes at him.
“Why now?”
“Why not?” he shrugged. He then stood up and walked a few paces away from the bed. “I understand if that’s not something you want to do right now. It’s cool. I just want you to know that when you’re ready, I’m here.”
Zuko glared at him, but turned away.
“I don’t have anything to say to you.”
“Okay,” said Sokka. “I’ll give you space,” he said and turned. He walked out of the room, and through the wall.
The next thing Zuko knew, he had woken up, his head on the pillow. He sat up and looked around, but he was alone.
With little option left he laid back, trying not to think of Sokka’s offer, and went back to sleep.

Meanwhile Sokka walked along the darkened corridor of the strange in-between realm with Iwei. He looked up to the spirit, who thanklessly guided him from one place to another. Who, even after Sokka had yelled at him so terribly, had come back to him like nothing was wrong and guided him to meet Zuko.
“Iwei,” Sokka gently called. The wolf’s ear flicked in recognition of its name. “I’m sorry,” he said. The creature kept walking. “I understand if you’re still mad at me. I said some pretty messed up things. I just want you to know I didn’t mean it. I think I’d be pretty messed up if I never saw you or him again.”
It kept walking. Sokka wondered if it even cared. If his words had even mattered to the creature in the first place. He had known Iwei for years. Such a large portion of his childhood had been spent traversing this darkness, yet the spirit remained an enigma.
They came to the end of their trip back to Sokka’s body, and Iwei sat, indicating in the way that it did that Sokka would wake up soon. He looked up to the wolf, who looked back down as him, its face expressionless, unreadable.
“Thank you,” said Sokka at last. “I don’t actually know what’s going on, or why you’re doing this for me or him, but I’ve never thanked you before.”
It cocked its head to the side, as if surprised.
“Yeah, I know it's weird but bare with me,” he scratched the back of his head. “Look, I don't know a lot about you, or what you do, or why you do it. I don’t know anything about visions or fate...but I don’t want to blame you for what happened to Yue. I blame Zhao for taking away the moon spirit, for being a coward. So, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I yelled, and I’m sorry I said what I did. I was sad, but that was wrong to turn it on you.”
It cocked its head to the other side, interested.
“It...would be great if you could let me know you understand me maybe? Or tell me if I’m forgiven or not?”
Iwei lowered its great head, and sniffing him a few times, did then open its maw. For one heart-stopping moment, as Sokka looked at those large teeth, he thought he’d misspoke and insulted the spirit. A large, pink tongue suddenly blocked his view and dragged up his body and the side of his face.
“Yee-uck!” he sputtered and jumped back. He brushed the icy-cold saliva off his face and glowered up at Iwei, only to see that the creature was looking at him with quiet mischief. “Okay, I deserved that,” he muttered, whipping himself off further. He turned back to Iwei though and smiled. “Thanks, Iwei.”
Their eyes crinkled in the way one does when they smile, and it lifted its head to release a great howl.

Sokka gently woke up, looking to the peaceful outdoor scene around him. Today, he and the team would reach the Earth Kingdom outpost. But for now, he took in the silence, feeling more at peace than before.

--

Sokka’s visit lingered on the prince’s mind all morning, and up until he was granted some surprising news. His sister had come to bring him home, it seemed their father had decided Zuko’s time in exile was up. Family had become important to the man, and he’d missed his son.
The news had filled his heart with such relief and elation, but his Uncle seemed suspicious. When alone with Zuko, he had informed him that something was off about the whole idea. Zuko would have none of it.
No, there were no strange plans at work, his father loved him. And yes, Azula normally lies, but she’d come searching for them with Fire Nation ships. She wouldn't have come all the way for a prank. Perhaps it was from being on the run for three years that had affixed his Uncle’s nerves towards suspicion.
This was good news, all of it, and he would hear no arguments against it. He’d been given a night to think over his decision, despite knowing his answer. He had accepted for the sake of his Uncle, who seemed to need more time than him. With luck he’d head down to the docks tomorrow, with his uncle at his side, on their way back to the palace. Everything would go back to how it had been before. His father’s love, his rightful place for the throne, his home, his people, and Sokka--
He paused in the halls he walked down. How had Sokka snuck into his thoughts so easily? He paused to consider what his new situation would entail. After all, if his crime was forgiven he no longer had to quest for the Avatar. So what would the situation for he and Sokka be?
As he mulled over those possibilities, heading to his room to pack, he also began to feel the faintest hint of suspicion in his own heart. He had not captured the Avatar, so what had changed his father’s mind? Surely he thought to himself, his father had somehow gotten word of his son’s diligent and hard work. His son, who had been searching for what was basically a myth and almost catching the trouble maker several times! He’d come closer than any member of his family in the past one hundred years of searching. Yes, yes surely this was it. His hard work had won his place back in his father’s heart. It was a shame his Uncle couldn’t see the good in this, but he knew someone who might.

He’d gone to bed that night, hoping to see Sokka. Normally on the receiving end of these visits, he was unsure if he could even do anything to call him. For good measure, he lit fire lily incense, said to attract good spirits, and went to bed.

As he fell asleep, he could almost swear he could hear a howl. His consciousness dipped into darkness, until he saw a teal and blue light. He hurried towards it in his mind, the outline steadily becoming more like a wolf. Beside the wolf was Sokka, who was looking at Iwei with some confusion.
“Hey, why’d we stop?” Sokka asked up to the Spirit. He noticed movement and turned to see Zuko walking toward them. “Wha? How’d you get here?” asked Sokka.
Zuko stopped to a halt, still a good distance away from them.
He remembered how somber the other night had been, how hostile. He’d been so closed off then-- but for good reason. His mission had still been to capture the Avatar last night. It was strange how this morning’s news made everything feel so new, like the last three years had all just been some terrible dream, including his fight with Sokka.
“Are you gonna say anything?” asked Sokka, cautious but curious. “Hey, you’re not in trouble are you?”
He shook his head, unable to answer, unsure how to start. He let his mouth run before his thoughts caught up, anything to make the silence between them stop.
“No, I’m not,” he replied. “I...I have some good news.”
“Oh...yeah?” Sokka asked, and looked up to Iwei, as if to confirm this was as weird as it felt. The stoic creature glanced Sokka’s way, but gave no hint of emotion one way or another.
“I’ll tell you later, but for now, just know that we’re not enemies anymore.”
“O-oh?” he wondered, surprised. That had been easy, maybe all Zuko really needed was to be told that he was here for him. “I mean, that’s great!”
“Yeah, but can we talk,” asked Zuko, peering up at Iwei a moment before looking back at Sokka, “alone?”
“Sure, but, let’s get out of this in between place.”
Iwei stood once more and took the lead, heading in the direction Zuko had run from. The two boys walked alongside each other.
“Is this what you see every time?” asked Zuko, looking about in the void. Sokka shrugged.
“Just about.”
“Huh. My uncle used to tell me stories of the Spirit World. He said it would be rolling landscapes, or deep jungles, sometimes even marshes or swamps.”
“It can be that too,” shrugged Sokka, remembering his last visit there.
“How is it you’re able to so easily traverse these places?”
“I wish I knew so that I could stop being dragged around,” he muttered.
Zuko gave a short laugh, and Sokka’s heart flipped. Despite, or perhaps because of, Zuko’s good mood, he felt a very small twinge of something being wrong. Was Zuko setting a trap? He shook the thought from his mind. No. He wasn’t going to be suspicious of him. He said he’d be there for him and he would.
“Hold on,” said Zuko, and he walked ahead of Sokka to Iwei. Sokka watched him, but it felt like he was watching someone else who was merely wearing a Zuko costume. The news of his return home had seemed to put him in a good mood-- that was down playing it-- but it sat heavy in his chest. Like a bad taste in his mouth it sat there, and he couldn't ignore the strange sudden nature of the prince’s return.
Zuko walked alongside Iwei and had spoken softly up to the wolf, who’d nodded down and turned their direction slightly more right.
A few moments passed, and they arrived on a beach. Sokka walked forward with Zuko, who took the lead and sat down in the sand. Sokka turned back, but the darkness was gone, leaving instead a beautiful scene of a small palace.
“Sokka,” called Zuko. He turned back and went to his side, wordlessly, and sat down next to him. They looked out to the beach together, the waves lapping gently against the sandy shore, which shone brightly.
“Where are we?” asked Sokka.
“The beach, just outside of where I am. I’m tired of our visits being confined to my bedroom,” he said, simply. “There’s little reason to hide my location now, anyway.”
“So...we’re not enemies? Just like that?” asked Sokka. Zuko’s face fell and he turned his gaze forward.
“Would you rather be?”
“No! No,” he said, shaking his head. “I want to be friends, I just wanted to confirm it, I guess.”
“Oh.”
There was a stillness between them. A quiet pause, like so many in the past. The recent events hung between them awkwardly. Sokka supposed that hat had happened between them in tha last month or so wouldn’t just evaporate like that because they were suddenly friends again. He wasn’t sure how to be Zuko’s friend any more. But as he looked up to the moon, he decided that he needed to try anyway. So he stood up, and began to stretch.
“What are you doing?” Zuko asked, watching him.
“We haven’t spared in a long time, you know? And you have to admit, back at Kiyoshi Island, I did almost have you.”
“What?” Zuko barked a laugh. “Almost had me? I had you on the ground!”
“Still gotta pay you back for that one,” said Sokka, raising his fists playfully, but his stance was real. Perhaps this would be enough to break the strange tension between them. “Come on! One-on-one, spar match.” he was bouncing from one foot to the other.
“You can’t be serious,” he snorted. “We’re friends again and you wanna fight?”
“Sure do,” he laughed. “What’s the matter, afraid I’ll beat you?” he mocked, but his tone invited Zuko rather than jabbed at him. Zuko quirked an eyebrow and smirked back at him.
“I just didn’t know you liked losing so much,” he said, and rolled onto his back. He swung his legs to trip up Sokka, but the Water Tribe boy stepped back and out of the way, keeping his stance.
“Oh yeah, just like Kiyoshi Island,” he laughed smiling. “I’m wise to all your tricks now, flame-boy. This’ll be a piece of cake.”
“You haven’t seen anything, yet,” he said, and strongly pushed off the sand and leapt back to his feet.
Zuko was quick, and his strikes filled with power. Sokka was just able to block much of it, but that kept him on the ropes. This was familiar to their first fight back in the South Pole. Zuko seemed to favor moves that would put distance between him and his opponent, possibly due to the force firebenders flames could produce.
Benders were unable to use their abilities in the spirit world, Aang had told Sokka as much, which was lucky for him. Yet, he had the distinct impression, even as Zuko’s fist came dangerously close to connecting with his face before he turned it away, that Zuko had no intention of bending at him. He wondered if this were Zuko’s honor at play, this had been declared a sparring match, after all, and Sokka wasn’t a bender. While Zuko had bent fire at him in the past, it was unclear if he ever intended to hit him in the first place. He would never do himself the disservice of thinking Zuko was incapable of burning Sokka out in the real world, but he held onto the hope in the quiet moments. And besides, they were friends again, right? Why did that feel too easy? He was so lost in his thoughts that Zuko got a few light strikes in on his shoulder.
“Your stance is weak,” Zuko chided, before he swiftly stepped a foot behind Sokka’s and sharply drew it up, toppling the boy back. Yet, as he fell he reached out for Zuko, grabbing the sleeves of his robe and pulled him down with him. They laid on the beach a moment before Sokka burst out laughing. Zuko pushed himself off of Sokka and to the side. He wiped the sand off his face with a scowl.
“Oh-ho man,” laughed Sokka, sitting up. “My stance is weak? Dude,”
“Shut it.”
“I’d dunk on you if I were a waterbender--” he looked past him and to the sea, “--but this will have to do.”
Quickly, Sokka raced up and grabbed Zuko’s arm before the other knew what was happening. The Prince barely managed to get to his feet but was still off balance and easily pulled into the water. He only managed to, at the last moment, dig his heels into the sand. Still holding onto the prince, Sokka up with his foot and caught Zuko in the exact way he’d kicked him to take out his balance, and sent them tumbling back into the water.
Sokka emerged from the water with both fists up, punching the air in victory.
“Oh yeah! Water Tribe, baby!” Sokka cried out, jumping around. Half of Zuko’s face emerged from the water, and he silently stalked behind his overzealous target. With precision he wound his arms under and around Sokka’s own, restraining him and keeping his arms locked upward. Zuko’s hands met behind Sokka’s head, and from there he was easily able to throw him off balance, forcing them sideways and to go crashing back down and into the ocean together. They untangled themselves from one another, and they emerged, laughing.
“Cheating!” laughed Sokka, pointing an accusatory finger at Zuko. “I call cheating!”
“How?” he laughed back.
“Surprise attacks don’t count.”
“They very much do,” he scoffed. “Since it was your fault you let your guard down.”
They headed back to the shore to sit.
“So,” said Sokka, leaning back, “You gonna tell me what this big news is, already? Why the change of heart?” he asked. Zuko smiled over at him.
“I’m going home,” he started. Sokka’s eyes widened at the news.
“Home?”
“Yeah,” Zuko nodded. “My sister found me and gave me the news today. Er, yesterday. I’ll be leaving tomorrow.”
“Well...that’s unexpected,” he said.
“I know,” he huffed, but scratched the back of his head.
“Does this mean…?”
“I think so. My sentence was to capture the Avatar and bring him back to my father. But if my exile is up, I think there’s no need for it.” He could not seem to hold back the smile that drew across his face as he looked out to the darkened horizon. “I don’t need to hunt you any more.”
“Oh hey...that’s...great,” Sokka offered up his own smile with a slight shrug. The news was good, too good to be true. Sokka wondered why it didn’t sit right with him. “So...you’re really sure you’re not banished anymore?”
“Azula said my father regretted the banishment, that he missed me and wanted me back.”
“Wait...your father?”
“Is that so strange?” he asked, frowning over at Sokka. The answer was a resounding yes, in Sokka’s mind, but he didn't have the stomach to argue, so he merely shook his head before he spoke.
“But are you sure?” he asked. “I mean, your sister’s lied to you before, about other things.”
“Nothing as serious as this,” he argued back. “She can be a pest, and she can sometimes be cruel, but she wouldn't borrow a war ship and search for me for some convoluted prank. That’s too crazy, even for her.”
Sokka made a face in thought, but quickly masked it.
“You’re still unsure,” said Zuko.
“I’m just worried for you, is all.”
“Why can no one be happy about this?” he groaned, looking away. “Even my uncle is suspicious. Is it so hard to believe my father would want me back?” he demanded, slamming his fist into the sand. “I thought you would be happy for me,” he said, turning on him.
“I am,” Sokka quickly assured, and put a hand on his shoulder. “Really, I am, but I’m also worried for you.”
“Worried? I tell you I’m going home and you’re worried for me?”
“Yeah I…” his gaze wandered to Zuko’s scar. “I mean...I gotta ask. What did you do to get banished in the first place?”
Zuko brushed Sokka’s hand off his shoulder and looked away.
“Does it matter?”
“It’s something I wondered, at least,” he shrugged.
“I...I spoke...out of turn.”
Zuko took a moment to collect his thoughts before he continued.
“I was sitting in on a war council. My father was there with his generals. They were going over war plans, and I wanted to learn as much as I could for when I became Fire Lord. When I was in there though, the kind of plans they were suggesting...it felt wrong to me,” he let out a breath and steeled himself. Though he tried to feign calm, his fist gripped at the sand, clenching it. “Their plans were absurd, and would have caused the lives of a great number of our own soldiers--” he caught himself, and cleared his throat. “I mean--I mean that I didn't agree with it. And I told them that, like an idiot,” he turned away. “I insulted the general by pointing out the flaw in his plan-- I mean, by speaking out. I was challenged to and Agni Kai, and I accepted it.”
“That general did this?”
“No…”
Sokka waited as Zuko turned his head away, his shoulders tensing.
“I insulted the general but in my father’s council, and in speaking out of turn, I’d insulted him.”
Sokka’s stomach dropped.
“My father was standing at the other end of the dueling platform. It was my fault though,” he said, turning back to Sokka.
“That’s not possible,” his tone was angry.
“But it was. I couldn’t lift my hand against my own father, but I disgraced him. I couldn’t fight him, I didn’t want to, but that was also disgraceful and he--” stopped and held his head, immediately fighting to control his breathing, to replace the mask of neutrality that had begun to slip. He took in a deep breath and lifted his face quickly out of his hands, trying to remain neutral, but turned his face away.
Sokka’s heart hammered in his chest with rage, though he sat still.
“You can’t go back,” said Sokka at once.
“What?”
“You can’t go back to him. Not after what he’s done. He’s not the one you should be seeking forgiveness from--”
“What are you saying?”
“He should be apologizing to you,” he said, furious. “He’s the one who should be on his knees, begging for your forgiveness.”
“...I knew you wouldn't understand,” he shot back, before standing. Sokka followed and grabbed his wrist.
“Zuko wait--”
“Let go of me!” he wrenched his wrist out of Sokka’s grip.
“Just-- help me understand,” he pleaded. “Why would you ever want to go back to him? To that?”
“You don’t understand-- you’ve never understood!” he yelled.
“Then help me!” he yelled back. “Because I don’t get it.”
“And how could you? You’re not royalty. You’re not even a noble. You’re a peasant! You have no idea what position I’m in and you’ve never cared!”
“That’s not true--”
“Shut up, I’m not done. I do what I have to do for my country and my people. If I’m told to capture the Avatar I will. If I’m told to come home, I will. Because it’s my duty. It’s my destiny.”
“Says who?”
“Says my father.”
Sokka’s anger flared then, and he couldn't stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth in a rage.
“Oh-- okay-- right. Mr. high-and-mighty. Mr. I beat my own kids because--”
“Stop it!”
With his words there impossibly roared a wall of fire from the fist he swung. It reached Sokka, and if this were the real world, it would have burned him, terribly. The fire, it seemed, was merely a representation of the firebender’s anger, of his frustration and rage. The fire the prince had used as cover to then attack him further his fist flying through the wall of heat-less fire. Sokka was on guard, however, and used what he’d learned from Suki to redirect the bender’s kinetic energy and set him off course, using his force to push Zuko past him.
“Zuko stop!” yelled Sokka.
Enraged, the prince didn’t stop, and drawing power from his hips, launched his foot up, sending another wave of fire at Sokka.
He panted, rage slowly ebbing from him. His foot remained raised up, as he watched Sokka’s hands fall from his face, giving Zuko a look he’d never seen on the Water Tribe boy. Fear. Fear of him and what he’d just done, of what he could have done. Was that the expression he wore, when someone he loved--
Suddenly there arose like thunder the sound of a whole crowd cheering. It was so loud that the ground beneath them shook. They held their ears trying to block out the terrible sound. The prince grit his teeth and tried to drown out the memory of white hot flames that licked and blistered his face--
“Zuko--”
“Leave!” he screamed, another wall of fire rising between them.

--

Sokka had been ejected out of the dream and flung so hard back into his body that it caused him to wake up with a start. Still convinced he was being engulfed in flames, he’d shot his hands up to protect his face.
Katara awoke and was at his side in an instant. Aang watched on with startled concern, looking around for the threat.
“Sokka! Sokka, it’s okay! Wake up,” she said, shaking his shoulder.
He took in his surroundings, breathing deeply and shaking. He looked about himself, confirming that they were still in the Earth Kingdom outpost.
They’d arrive that day, and while it was planned for them to immediately leave with an escort to Omashu, the out posts’ general had delayed them with a worrying proposition. They were given a room while Aang mulled over his decision for the night.
“Sorry, I...bad dream,” he said, fighting to catch his breath.
“You’ve been having a lot of bad dreams lately,” said Katara, worried. It was true that he’d admitted to them of his less than deep sleep, lately.
“It’s nothing. I mean, it would be weird if I wasn’t, given what we’ve been through so far, right?”
“I...guess,” shrugged Katara, shooting a knowing glance towards Aang. Whatever exchange they were having, Sokka didn’t quite catch, but he was relieved when she went back to bed. Things went quiet again, everyone drifting back off to sleep. Sokka closed his eyes as well, trying to bury the memory of the beach.

Chapter Text

White clouds drifted lazily above Sokka as he floated along in the gentle river. Momo was resting on his stomach, and he could hear Aang and Katara practicing their waterbending not far from him. Katara had taken on the role of Aang’s teacher quite seriously, and Aang was pleasantly receptive to it. So they would stop as often as they could near some body of water to practice. Making sure Aang could master each element was important, but Sokka felt they also had a tight schedule to keep. They needed to be on their way to Omashu as soon as possible, they had been delayed enough as it was by the general at the outpost.
These thoughts and his schedule served to distract him from the terrible dream he’d had with Zuko days ago. Now, with nothing to do, he was simply drifting along in his mind.
He’d fought with Zuko-- after he promised he’d be there for him. To listen to him. The guy was probably on his way home now. He wanted to be happy for him, but he just couldn’t. How was Zuko returning to his family good news, anyway? He hated Zuko’s father, hated him for many reasons-- but Zuko had been so happy. He groaned as these points were flung back and forth in his mind. What he should have done, how he should have kept his mouth shut, he should have just been happy for him. Was that even the right thing to do? Should he have not said anything? Should he have said more?
Maybe he shouldn't have insulted his father--
But he deserved the insult for what he did to--
It didn’t help and only made him angry.

He held his head and groaned, stressed. All arguments and no answers, even in his head. He was so tired, sleep had been rocky the past few nights. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. Maybe he could catch a quick nap, twenty minutes, tops.
The darkness gave way to the sound of flames rushing to his face.
He flailed in surprise, accidentally flipping the palm leaf over and sending both him and momo to go crashing into the water.
He surfaced to hear Momo’s irrigated gurgles, and the laughter of his sister and Aang.
“You alright there?” called Katara.
“Fine, fine,” he called back, standing and righting the leaf. “Hey, are you guys gonna be at this all day? We should wrap it up soon and head out.”
“Look who's talking, Mr. naked.”
Not completely, thought Sokka with some irritation, as he had his white swimwear on, like her.
“Hey, I could get ready at any moment,” he said, flopping down on the raft. “Seriously, I could even be ready now.”
Katara shook her head and merely turned back to Aang, continuing with their lesson. He took in another breath, the waiting was starting to wear on him. Just as his thoughts reluctantly began to turn back to Zuko, something caught their attention.
Music could be heard in the air, alerting everyone to the approach of some small group. Sokka sat up from the large palm he’d been floating on to get a better look. They could see a small music troup, led by someone at the front playing the pipa (a small stringed instrument) and were walking up the path that ran along the river.
“Don’t fall in love with a traveling girl, she’ll leave you broke and broken hearted,” the lead sang, before stopping suddenly when he spotted them. Sokka got to his feet immediately, incase of any danger.
“Hey, hey, river people,” said the man. He had a wide, unabashedly humored smile on him, and a loose way of holding himself. His small group of five also smiled to them, some holding instruments.
“We’re not river people,” said Katara.
“You’re not?” asked the man, “What kind of people are you?”
Sokka began to quietly question the man’s intelligence and instantly doubted him and his group as a threat.
“We’re just...people,” shrugged Aang in response.
“Aren’t we all, brother,” the man smiled.
This confirmed to Sokka that there was no danger present. However, much to his chagrin, the colorful characters befriended Katara and Aang rather easily, and before he knew it his entire schedule had been completely derailed. The others sat with these wandering musicians, creating flower crowns and braiding each other’s and Appa’s hair. This frustrated him to no end, and every second that ticked by grated on his nerves. After an hour, he’d had enough. He approached them, standing before them with as much authoritative presence eas he could muster.
“Hey Sokka,” smiled Aang, “you should really listen to one of their songs. These guys have been everywhere.”
“Not everywhere little arrowhead, but where we haven’t been we’ve heard of in stories and songs,” smiled the man, gently striking a chord on the pipa with a whimsical smile.
“Chong said he was gonna take us to see a giant nightcrawler,” Aang continued.
“On the way,” chimed in another man, a drummer by the name of Moku, “there’s a waterfall that creates a never ending rainbow!”
Sokka raised an eyebrow at this. How could they all just be so easy-going when there was so much at stake?
“Okay, I hate to be the wet blanket here, but since Katara’s busy, I guess it’s up to me. We need to get to Omashu. No side track, no worms, and definitely no rainbows.”
“Are you sure we need to be leaving so soon?” asked Katara. “I agree that maybe we don’t need to go see the waterfalls or the worm, but you could really use a break.”
“Me?” he demanded.
“Yeah,” nodded Aang, “You look really tired. Did you sleep last night?”
“Th-that doesn’t have anything to do with-- look I’m sure a break would be great but we need to stick to the schedule. Every minute that passes is--”
“Woah-ho-ho,” said Chong, “Looks like someone’s got a case of destination fever.”
“You’ve gotta focus less on the where, and more on the going,” said Chong’s wife, lilly.
“Oh-ma-shu!” he said, frankly, and slowly so that they might finally understand.
“Well hey, it sounds like you’re headed to Omashu,” Chong smiled, openly.
His hand launched itself into his forehead in frustration. What world were these people living in?
“You know, there’s an old story about a secret pass that runs right under the mountain.”
“Wait,” said Katara, “Is this real, or a legend?”
“Oh it’s a real legend alright, and it’s as old as earthbending itself.”
Chong began to play, and the other musicians in his troop followed suit. It was a light tone, catchy, even. But they didn’t have time for catchy music, or legends or--
“Two lovers, forbidden from one another, a war divides their people, and a mountain divides them apart…”
He couldn't help but stare as the lyrics struck him with such unpleasant familiarity. He scowled through their song, and when they finally stopped, he could feel his eyes twitch.
“That’s great,” he responded, flatly, “but we don’t have time to go searching for some secret tunnel.”

This, as it turned out, was not the case. Having parted ways with the musicians, the group had boarded Appa and headed to Omashu. Sokka’s relief was short-lived when they discovered a Fire Nation blockade had been set up along the mountain path. They launched flaming boulders at them and Appa, preventing them entirely from crossing over to the Earth Kingdom city. So, with no other plan available, they rejoined the musicians and were on their way to the Secret Tunnel. So much for plans, Sokka thought bitterly.

Meanwhile, in some other part of the Earth Kingdom, Zuko was having a horrible time. Starving, cold, and without any shelter to be seen, the now former prince was doing his best to go fishing. He stood in the river barefoot, his pants rolled up past his ankles, and brandished a stick he’d just managed to sharpen into a spear. His eyes were trained on a large, fat, fish, but every time he’d strike as the water, the image of the fish would split apart and distort, until it swam away and out of danger.
Furious, Zuko let out an exasperate growl.
“How is this so hard?” he complained to the air. “If Sokka can do it, why can’t I?”
He glared as his reflection came back into view. His hair was growing back, he could see it filling in the spaces where he’d once been used to shaving it away. His top knot was gone.
As it turns out, and much to his wounded pride, his Uncle and Sokka had been right in being suspicious of Azula. She’d come to collect Zuko and his Uncle, certainly, only to throw them in jail upon their return. Were it not for the luck of the captain’s slip up-- calling him and his uncle prisoners instead of their titles, they would have foolishly boarded the ship and been subject to a life in prison. Lucky for them, they had escaped, but now they were in a terrible situation. With their royal status stripped and replaced with the title of wanted fugitives, they were hard up on any means of comfort or food.
Zuko sighed in aggravation as he once more picked up the spear. He stood still, his spear raised, looking down at the rushing waters for fish.
Sokka used to tell him about how they fished in his village, either with line and hook, or by spear. Zuko stood by what he said last time, that spearfishing was impossible.
“It’s not impossible,” a young Sokka had once laughed. “If it was we’d starve. You just have to think like the fish.”
“Okay, except fish don’t think?” said young Zuko, incedulously.
“Yeah, that’s true. I mean that, you have to be really, really still. That and you can try driving it toward the ice so it’s trapped. They’ll fling themselves up, or they’ll freeze up and then you nab ‘em!”
“I don’t know...”
“It’s okay, when you come visit I’ll teach you. We’ll do it together,” his smile had been so wide, so unabashedly excited at the thought of being there for his friend’s first fishing trip.

Zuko pulled out of his memory as another fish lazily swam closer to his right ankle. From where he was standing, the edge of the river was bordered by a small shore of pebbles to his right. He watched the fish, very quietly raising his spear. It was closest to the shore, if he pulled this off right then it might panic and strand itself on land, or run right into his spear. He waited a few more moments as it floated closer to his ankle, before striking! He plunged the spear beneath the water’s surface and square into the rock beneath, missing the fish entirely. In the confusion and panic, it had swum around his spear and rushed further along the river’s current.
“This is impossible!” he yelled and threw down the spear again. He held his head, hunger twisting his stomach and turning his mood even more foul.
He looked to the water, frustrated, staring at his rippling and distorted reflection. He looked at his scar, how the surface of the water also pulled and morphed it, making him look more monster than boy.
He’d bent fire at Sokka, though granted he hadn’t felt any heat from the flames in that dream space. He was sure one couldn't use their bending in that place, as he’d tried to show Sokka fire bending when they were younger and failed. He’d cried, afraid he’d somehow lost his ability, but upon waking up was relieved to find it was still with him. Still, those flames, even if they were fake, were created with lethal intent. He’d almost hurt him-- no, he’d wanted to hurt him. He’d wanted to hurt Sokka for even implying that his father wouldn’t want him, and what did he have to show for it? Betrayed by his sister, a wanted criminal in his father’s eyes, and no clear way to restore his honor. He closed his eyes again and shook his head, trying not to think about it, trying to ignore the idea that Sokka might hate him now. Of course he did. He remembered the look of fear on his face when the flames had parted. One of his hands moved from his ear and to his eye where the scar rested. He covered it almost entirely. He almost looked normal, but bits of gnarled flesh still peeked through. Angry, he stomped the reflection and went to pick up the spear. He was done fishing, he decided. Picking it up, he found a little fish, no bigger than a guppy, perhapps, was stuck on the spear, somehow run through.
There was a bit of strange luck at play with how precise one would have had to be if they’d tried to do that on purpose. A thin chance, impossible to fathom and believe in, but real all the same.
It wouldn’t feed them, it wasn’t even a mouthful. He couldn’t fathom doing much better than that, and merely headed out of the river to find his Uncle.

--

Along the way to the secret tunnel, the team and musicians had all been followed by the same Fire Nation soldiers who’d set up the blockade. Having successfully found the secret tunnel, they’d all been driven into it by the soldiers. Unwilling to follow the soldiers used their tank to fire at the entrance, and cause a cave in. They had been left to die. Worse yet, was that the secret tunnel was not an actual tunnel but a series of tunnels-- a maze. And to further add to the bad news, the musicians had mentioned a curse, that only those with love in their hearts would be able to pass through the tunnel and live.

Love did very little, in Sokka’s eyes. A map would provide more use than love ever could. He currently held a blank scroll, and every tunnel they’d go down he’d mark down. Simple enough. It might take them a while, but they would leave this place soon. Even a maze was simple, at its core. One merely had to navigate the wrong paths, mark it down to avoid it next time, and keep trying until they found the right way. He wished understanding people were as easy as that. It wasn't’ that he didn’t understand people, he reasoned, his mind wandering as he continued to mark the map, it was that he didn’t understand Zuko. And did Zuko ever want to understand him? Did he ever want to maybe stop and think about what he was doing, ever? He grunted to himself, frustrated.
The others silently followed behind him. Aang stood by his side at one point, holding the torch so Sokka could see what he was drawing as they walked.
Aang looked back to Katara every now and again, clearly distracted by some thought. His diverted attention caused the torch to accidentally wander too close to Sokka.
“Aang,” Sokka groaned with irritation, pushing the torch away from his face for the third time.
“Oh, ah, sorry,” he laughed apologetically.
“It’s fine, just focus, please,” he said, not even looking up from his work.
There was a pause, but he could feel the airbenders gaze on him.
“What?” he asked him, still working.
“Oh, nothing! You’ve just got really deep circles under your eyes.”
“So?”
“I just can’t help but think...maybe we should have taken a longer break back there. Maybe let you sleep?”
“It’s fine. We’ll take a break once we’re at Omashu.”
“So, what’s been keeping you up?” he asked. “I don’t snore, do I?” he chucked, offering a smile and gently elbowing his ribs. Sokka couldn’t help but let a small smile slip through.
“It’s nothing, Aang. Seriously.”
He could feel Aang waiting for any further explanation, but when none was offered he gave up and looked ahead of them again.
They continued along the path until it started to look familiar once more. And then they found themselves at the same dead end as before.
“I don’t understand,” started Katara, looking around. “We’ve been here before, and we’ve only been following the one path.”
“How’s this possible?” asked Aang.
Sokka stared at the scroll he held, confused. What had happened? He was so sure. How were they ending up in the same tunnels? Was it him? Was he marking this all wrong? No, he had to think clearly. Pushing down the familiar reach of guilt, he took a more critical eye to the map. As he looked over what he’d put down, he found that it was simply impossible for them to have ended up where they were. Impossible, unless...
“There’s only one explanation,” said Sokka, and turned back to them, rolling up the map with grave seriousness. “The tunnels are moving.”
The others stared at him, surprised, but a strange noise off and behind them in the darkness drew their attention backward. Quickly, Sokka took up a lit torch from one of the musicians, and held it to the darkness. The growling paused, and for a few heart-stopping moments, everyone looked into the darkness as it looked back at them.
Then suddenly, and without warning, some brown blur rushed them. Sokka only just stepped out of the way before it could barrel into him. Everyone rushed to one side, out of the way of the creature as it landed and turned on them, snarling.
“Wolfbat!” someone cried.
The four-legged creature, covered in fur and with a pink up-turned nose, growled angrily at them. The wolf-bat rushed them again, the folds under its front leg spread out and allowed the creature the gift of flight to dive straight at them. Sokka waved the torch to fend it off, but the furious little creature knocked into him and smacked the torch out of his hand. It went flying, and found its way to Appa’s foot. The bison could no longer contain it’s fear of the enclosed space they were in, and ran about them in a blind panic. In a separate attempt to not get trampled under the animal’s six foot, the group ran out of it’s way, but the bison did not stop until it hit a wall, only to release a panicked roar and head into another one. The caves rumbled ominously, and rocked from above began to cascade downward. Sokka stared up at his impending doom, but was suddenly pushed far off and to the side. He sat up, the wind knocked slightly out of him to see Aang behind a veil of falling rocks, which were quickly obstructing his view. Aang wasn't alone, as he was currently rushing to Katara’s side. Just before the wall of rocks landed, fully separating them, he watched thankfully as Aang collided into Katara and whisked them both out from under the falling debris. The relief was only momentary when he realized that, while alive, they were separated.
“No!” he yelled, and getting to his feet began to dig away at the rocks. It was an impossible task, as they were completely walled off.
“Yeah, no, we’re separated,” said Chong from behind him. “But hey, at least you have us.”
Fate was entirely too cruel. He dug faster, only to be buried further under a small rock slide. This resulted in an embarrassing scene of the musicians having to dig him out.
“Well, what are we going to do now?” asked Lilly.
Now resigned that he’d have to travel with these people, he gave the obvious answer.
“We can only keep going and hope that Aang and Katara are alright,” sighed Sokka, getting back to his feet. “We still have torches, and if nobody's injured we’ll be able to figure this out, and hopefully, meet up with them along the way.”
He was hoping the quiet might resume, but as they walked, the musicians took up singing once more.
“Don’t let the cave-in get you down, Sokka! Don’t let the falling rocks turn your smile into a frown. When the tunnels as dark as, that’s when you need a clown--hey! Don’t let the cave-in get you down, Sokka!”
“Hey,” he called, interrupting them. “Maybe we should keep it down? You know, I’d like to avoid whatever else lives in here.”
“It’ll be fine.” shrugged Chong. “We’ve got love to guide us.”
Again with that.
“Love doesn’t get you through tunnels,” he said. “Love doesn’t do anything, really.”
“Oh yeah? Ever been in love?” asked Chong, picked a light tune on his instrument.
“Yes,” he said with an edge to his tone. “I have. It didn’t help me then, and it won’t help me now.”
“But love is always the answer,” Lilly chimed in.
“Oh really?” asked Sokka. He stopped walking, suddenly bitter with anger. “Really? Did love help us when the Fire Nation soldiers caved us in? Did love save us when the wolf bat attacked? Or how about now? Go ahead. Use love to point us out of here, I’ll wait.”
“Well, if you think about it,” said the drummer, “love did create these tunnels for us to hide it.”
“It was love that allowed little arrowhead to save us and your sister,” said Lilly.
“And it’s love that keeps us wanting to find your friends and look out for each other.”
Sokka frowned and began walking again.
“Okay, sure, if you want to explain it like that. But love isn’t something that just solves all your problems.”
“You’re right about that,” laughed Chong, still plucking and strumming. The tune was pleasant enough, light but slow. “You can’t eat love, you can’t buy it or sell it, and love won’t put clothes on your back or put a roof over your head. But love can do so much more.”
“What good is it if you can’t even use it to protect the people you care about?” he asked. He’d muttered this without thinking, the image of the moon in his mind. “What good is it if it’s just thrown back in your face?” he wondered as the torch crackled a moment.
“Sounds like you’ve got a case of broken heart syndrome.”
“No,” he defended, his cheeks growing red.
“We’ve heard that one before,” laughed Lilly. “Love, when lost, can be a terrible thing. It can obscure answers, darken your view even in the brightest of days. But love always comes back if you let it.”
“So who’d you fight with?” asked Chong.
“N-no one!”
“Ay, you sure about that, cuz, I remembered what you said about the thrown back in the face comment and it just seems like--”
“It’s not important.”
“Come on,” said Moku. “Talking about it will make you feel better.”
Sokka sighed, but tightened his grip on the torch. His eyes wandered to the flickering flame, as if it would jump at him from there.
“Let me ask you this,” started Sokka, carefully but tense. “The lovers who made this tunnel, they were from opposite sides, right?”
“Sure were,” smiled Chong.
“How did they possibly manage to find love when both sides were fighting?”
The group went quiet, contemplating the answer.
“Maybe because they didn’t see each other as enemies?” shrugged the drummer.
“Maybe it was simply that they saw each other as people,” nodded Lilly.
“Even then, they couldn't possibly forget what side they were on, right? Even then they must have argued.”
“Love is never without argument,” Lilly nodded.
“Huh?” was all Sokka sputtered, confused.
“It is through conflict that we see change,” nodded Chong. “When people argue, it’s because they want to be heard. Arguments are like lava to the sea. When both sides work together and are understood, sure there’s chaos at first and boiling water, and destroying trees and stuff, but after it’s all cooled off they create a stronger foundation, land for love to flourish, maaan.”
Sokka stared at Chong like he’d grown a third head. It was possibly the most cohesive thought he’d heard him string together. He merely blinked and stared ahead, listening to him pluck out notes as they continued through the tunnels.
So love could even be found in argument. He felt his cheeks pink at the thought of his fight with Zuko. He’d insulted his father, and while the man was despicable for many reasons, Sokka didn’t have the same pressures of being his son. He’d probably never understand what it was that made Zuko so desperate for his father’s love, but in that moment, he was sure that insulting him to his face was the wrong way to have gone about it. What was Zuko trying to say? Why had he asked him to explain it and then been too hot-headed to let him finish?
Thinking about it further made him feel hollow. What was there to do about it now? Zuko was home.

--

Zuko sat outside of a stranger’s house, alone. He and his uncle had been invited to dinner by a healer, who had taken pity on them when they’d told her they were refugees. It was another strange bit of luck, considered Zuko, as they would have never met this woman and her family had his uncle not tried to brew tea with a poisonous flower after mistaking it for a tea bush. It was the first full meal they’d had in days since their new life on the run. While full, he also felt himself to be hollow.
The kindness of these people to strangers such as them was unfathomable. They did not have to share their bit of wealth, their food, their tea, and yet, simply because of a lie, they were more than willing to help. It didn’t sit well with him that he had lied, not because it was necessary, but because it had gotten them so much. Well fine, if the mother and daughter wanted to play the bleeding heart and offer up so much without prompting, then that was their fault. All he and his Uncle had come to them for was medicine anyway. Zuko didn’t ask for their hospitality, or their dinner. Well-- his uncle had, but not him. Just because he ate it didn’t mean--
“Can I join you?” asked a voice. Zuko didn’t move, perhaps partly because of instinct, and part because he didn't wish to speak to anyone at the moment. “I know what you’ve been through, we’ve all been through it,” she started, and sat next to him. “The fire nation has hurt you,” she continued, gently. Zuko didn't move, didn’t speak, though the sentiment was laughable. All she understood was a lie.
She reached out to touch his scar, but he caught her hand. His heart gave a nervous, guilty thump in his throat. Ticked-off as he was, the memory of flames tamed his grip on her to be gentle, through stiff. He led her hand away and let go, hoping that if he continued to ignore her, she’d go away.
“It’s okay,” she continued, “they’ve hurt me too,” she said, and began to roll up the leg of her pants. Zuko couldn't help but glance toward the movement, but the sight of pink and scarred flesh held his gaze. The old scar looked like it had been a terrible wound when it was fresh. Despite the fact that her family were healers, the scar had still turned out as gnarled and strained as his own wound. It shocked him to his core the power his people held, and sat in his chest strangely. He stared despite himself. “So you see,” she continued, rolling down the cloth and hiding it once more, “you’re not alone.”
He turned back away.
“And that it’s okay to accept help,” she continued. “You were feeling guilty, about accepting dinner from us, right?”
His heart gave a painful thump, how’d she found out?
“We were the same way when we were refugees. The more we accepted help though, the more we were able to find our footing.”
A pause, wherein she shifted uncomfortably.
“I know, it’s uncomfortable at first. Because then you wonder what you owe people. You know, though, sometimes people just want to help because they can. And that can be--”
“You’re annoying me.”
His words seemed to cut through her to the point where she winced, though slightly.
“Right…sorry.” she nodded and stood back up, walking back to the door. She stopped, as if wanting to say more, but merely turned back and into her home to joining her mother and his Uncle.
A few moments passed, before he hung his head and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. Why was that all he knew how to do? She’d been kind, her family had been kind, even if it was because he’d lied to them. No, this was for the best, the less they knew the better. Not to mention he was sure their hospitality would be revoked the moment any hint of Fire Nation loyalty reared its ugly head.
The Fire Nation had hurt him, huh? Technically this was true. But whose fault was that, he scoffed bitterly in his head, knowing the answer. And before he could be warned about further harm, he’d gone and swung at Sokka. He was lucky his Uncle was still by his side, he thought. He’d really done it this time, though, Sokka was not coming back, he was sure. Not that he’d asked for Sokka to come back. Not that he’d ask for Sokka to listen. He’d never asked for any of it, didn’t owe him anything. It didn't matter now. He wouldn’t come back. Not after what he’d done, what he’d meant to do in the moment. But that was fine, he thought to himself as he noticed his breathing quicken. He could live with that. He’d gotten on without him before, and he could do it again.
He opened his eyes and gazed to the night veiled field before him. The darkness reflected his thoughts, and his mind’s eye saw fire, and the Avatar.

--

“Even when you’re lost you can’t lose the love because it’s in your heart..oh~”
The music was beginning to wear on Sokka. It had been Chong’s idea that, to get through the tunnel, they should sing love songs. It seemed the strange incident of clear thinking from Chong, about arguments and love, had been either a fluke, or had used up the remainder of the man’s brain power. Now, as they paraded along, wandering endlessly in the darkness, Sokka was starting to worry if they’d ever see the outside again.
A rumble from behind caught everyone’s attention. Sokka, who was taking up the rear of the group, turned, trying to discern what the noise was. The light of the torch lit up and reflected off of many sets of eyes, and the growling noise grew even louder. The flock of wolf-bats rushed them suddenly. Sokka wildly waved the torch to fend them off. Not a single wolf-bat came near him, and in fact, dove past the group and continued to flee into the darkness.
“Sokka saved us!” cried Chong, elated.
“No...they were running from something,” he responded, turning back to the darkness.
As if on cue the earth around them began to rumble! Something large burst through the wall of the cave. The size of a house and covered in hair, with long sharp claws, the group was looking at a badger mole. A second one burst through in the same manner behind the group. Their fin-like paws, which were good for scooping up and hefting away large piles of dirt and rock, clapped together suddenly. The walls of the tunnels behind the badgermoles moved and closed in on themselves. The creatures were earthbending, and had cut off all exits. Now surrounded, Sokka’s heart beat in his throat as he held up the torch.
“Woah!” said Chong, looking to the two creatures. “Alright everybody, just stick together. We’ll figure this out with love.”
“Are you serious?” Sokka snapped and turned on him. “Were facing down angry badgermoles who’re about to crush us and you still think love will do anything?”
The badgermoles snarled in response to Sokka’s raised voice. Sokka yipped in response and quieted down.
The creature behind the musicians raised itself up, and with surprising precision, used their earth bending to raise a wall around the group. Sokka had stepped back just in time to not be walled off with everyone else, but now he was facing the other one alone. Afraid of the giant creature, he waved his torch in its face, hoping to scare it off. Though blind, the creature could feel the sudden heat too close to its face. It snarled and raised itself up to slam its forepaws into the ground. As a result, the earth quaked beneath Sokka’s feet and caused him to lose his balance and fall, the torch falling out of his hand and extinguished by a boulder that dropped on the flame. The large creature advanced on him, and Sokka could only scramble backward desperately. Stupid, he thought fearfully, he’d only caused the animal to become mroe enraged.
His hand blindly landed on some odd surface that made a stage sound upon impact. A single note hung in the air. The badgermole stopped and looked down at Sokka, curious about the sound. The young man looked back and saw that his hand was resting on Chong’s pipa, it must have been dropped during the scuffle. He looked back to the creature, who was still turning its head, listening for the strange sound. Quickly he picked up the instrument, and without quite knowing what he was doing, he began to play. The other badger mole, also curious, drew closer to Sokka, ignoring Chong and the others.
“Hey-hey! These guys are music lovers!” Chong exclaimed, standing.
“Bager-moles coming toward me,” Sokka sang, his voice strained with panic, “Come on, guys, help me out!”
With that the others took up the hint and luckily began to play. The badgermoles were calmed down by the end of it, and even purring softly, as if to indicate their enjoyment of the musicians and their melodies. Both sides were much calmer now. Chong continued plucking out a tune, smiling up at them.
“Music and love,” the man smiled, “That’s all this world needs.”
Sokka shook his head, but an idea did surface in his mind.
“You know, these guys could break us out of here,” he said. “They’d be able to earthbend the tunnels toward an exit.”
“Hey, good idea,” smiled Chong. “Hey, new buddies, you think you can guide? Guide us to the exit?” he sang. Sokka frowned at the man’s line of thinking, but was surprised to find the creature's turn and begin to earthbend new paths in the mountain.
“That worked?!” he exclaimed.
“Music and love, my man, music and love,” Chong smiled, and followed behind them. Much to Sokka’s amazement, the musicians had even grown so bold as to hoist themselves up on the badgermoles.
“What are you doing?” asked Sokka, aghast.
“Hitchin’ a ride, come on,” smiled Chong.
“Are you crazy, they were trying to kill us before. I don’t wanna tick them off again.”
“Naw, they’re chill now.”
“What? How can you just...” he watched as they simply found their way up the creature’s body, using it’s coarse hair like ropes to climb up before finding their seat along its back and neck. The badgermoles had been so fierce before, had music really been what made them suddenly so friendly? He felt something cold and wet bump him on his back from behind, and before he could react, something ducked under his legs and hoisted him up. He rolled back on the badgermoles head before finding his balance again. He blinked down in amazement at how docile these creatures were.
“Wha...why are they trusting us so much?” he wondered.
“It was just a misunderstanding, right?” Chong called over. “I bet they thought we were there to hurt them or something. Especially after that big cave in, and what with the fire and everything.”
“But still…” Sokka wondered looking down at the badgermole he rode as it continued to bend a path forward. Nervous, but confident it wouldn't hurt him, he reached out and pet it. It gave no indication that it felt it, except a small purr of gratitude. “Wow...even though I waved fire at it...” he said, feeling guilty for having done such a thing.
“You gotta learn to trust, man,” said Chong. “Like these guys. They know we’re not hostile, even if they were nervous about us at first. It’s all good now.”
At least confident that these creature’s wouldn't hurt him, he merely allowed them to take him to the end of the cave.
It took maybe fifteen minutes before the badgermoles burst out from the tunnel. Katara, Aang, and Appa were already out, much to Sokka’s relief.
“Sokka!” his sister cried happily.
“Katara! Aang,” he smiled, and slid down the badgermole to hug his sister. Thank goodness they were safe.
“How’d you escape?” asked Sokka.
“It’s just like the legend said,” smiled Aang, “we let love guide the way.”
“Oh…” shrugged Sokka, unsure of what he really meant by that, “We let giant badgermoles guide us.”
Said creatures had already turned and began walking back into their earthen home. He waved, and when the mountain closed back up behind them, he thought for a moment about having been able to ride on them, and how he’d avoided being killed by soothing their fears with music.
It was also time to say goodbye to their musician friends, who were splitting off to continue to wander about. Chong approached Sokka and removed his lei from around his neck, to put it around Sokka’s. He held the boy’s shoulders, his gaze suddenly serious.
“Sokka, I hope you’ve learned a valuable lesson about love, trust, and enjoying the journey more than reaching the destination,” then swiftly pulled him into a hug. The man smelled of dirt, badgermole, and body odor.
“...Just play your music…” he grumbled in response.
“Hey, great idea!” Chong smiled, and took up his pipa once more. He and his crew wandered off, their music following them. When they were gone, Katara turned to Sokka, her arm folded and her eyebrow quirked up in question.
“What’d he mean by that?” she asked.
“Nothing, the guy’s crazy,” he sighed, feeling tired. They started walking again, Omashu wasn’t far.
“Hey, Sokka,” said Aang, “Maybe you should rest now? Since we’re all out of danger?”
“I’ll rest later,” he said, waving him off. “Besides, we’re almost there,” he smiled down at him. “It should be just over this hill, infact!” he smiled and raced ahead of them. It had been a long day, terrifying at some points even, but it had all been worth it. “I present to you, Omashu!” he said, arriving at the hill’s precipice, but upon seeing the kingdom city his stomach fell. Fire Nation flags stared back at him from atop the kingdom’s walls. Omashu had been colonized. “...I need a nap.”

Chapter Text

Sokka awoke to darkness, though he knew himself to still be asleep. He wandered alone, looking for the familiar warm aurora lights. Iwei appeared, as if stepping out from behind a heavy curtain, the darkness rippling in its wake before settling once more.
He looked up to the wolf, who looked back down at him. There was a touch of sadness to Sokka’s face, and guilt. He let out a breath and looked away, holding his arm.
“I’m glad you showed up,” he said to Iwei. “I thought...I thought I really screwed things up.”
It tilted it’s head to the side a moment before lowered it face toward him. They gently bumped its chilly nose against his chest. The gesture was a kind one, its eyes forgiving as it playfully set Sokka off balance. The Water Tribe boy steadied himself with Iwei’s muzzle, then gently pet the short fur.
“Glad to know I’m not in trouble with you, at least. I messed up so bad last time…” he pet Iwei a few more times before they carefully lifted their great head away. “So, I’m guessing you’re here to take me to him, huh? Guess I gotta go check up on his royal-ness…” he muttered.
Iwei turned and began walking into the darkness. Sokka watched him leave a moment, before taking in a deep breath and resolving to follow them. He jogged to catch up-- when something sprung up in front of him. Fire burst before his gaze, and he yelped. Iwei sharply turned around to see Sokka stepping back and away from the sudden wall of burning fire.
“Woah-- hey! What’s with the fire?” he asked. He watched Iwei walk towards it, but not too close, sniffing and turning its head about, as if trying to make sence of what they were seeing. This was disconcerting, he’d never seen Iwei so unsure.
A wet growl from behind him sounded, sending a chill down Sokka’s spine. Slowly, nervously, he turned to look behind him to see a large beast. It was a strange creature, one Sokka had never seen before in his life. It was hunched over on all fours, it’s back seeming to be too long and bent up in the middle to close the distance between its front and back legs. It looked as though it were covered in bristled fur but the longer Sokka looked the more he could also see flat patches of ruddy-black scales. Fog and chill rolled off this creature, an unpleasant cold that nipped unpleasantly at his skin, like being outside during a blizzard storm. The creature’s face was like that of a wolf, but the maw was longer, and the nostrils more flared, like that of a dragon. Its teeth were obsidian and dripping with some black substance that rolled out of its mouth like drool. The smell of it was sharp, so much so that Sokka had to cover his nose in disgust. He recalled the stench from his childhood, oil and fat. It was nauseating.
“Ulg-- what is that?”
Iwei whined, trying to get around the wall of fire, but it would grow and extend to wherever the wolf would travel.
The monster lowered its head and let out a breath, fog rolling out out of mouth. Where the fog touched there was suddenly ice, and it was racing toward Sokka! He turned to run, but too late. The fog had swiftly blown his way and wrapped around him legs and feet, holding him in place.
The creature advanced on Sokka, it’s unnaturally long maw opening. In the pit of darkness in its throat, Sokka could see sparks jumping and catching in small flames to the black drool. With another guttural, wet, intake of breath, it then pushed out a loud and piercing scream. The spark from the back of its throat caught on the oily liquid, catching fire and jutting out! It rocketed toward Sokka, and all he could do was stand and watch, feeling the heat grow increasingly worse as it flew towards him. In the same moment, Iwei howled, and when Sokka was sure he was about to be engulfed in flames-- he woke up.

He opened his eyes, laying terribly still. He was sweating, he could feel it run down his face and neck in beads. He blinked as he came to, looking up at the roof of the tent he lay in. He could hear the sounds of others sleeping around him; Katara, Aang, and the refugees that they helped liberate from the Fire Nation occupied Omashu. It was very late, or very early depending on how one chose to look at it.
Assured he was awake, his mind wandered to what had just happened. What was that creature? Even Iwei couldn’t get to him through the fire it created to wall them off. He took in a shuddered breath, unsure if he should try to sleep again or not. Would it be waiting for him if he closed his eyes?
He shook his head, fending the fear away. While it had been terrifying, he had to remember that it had all been just a dream. Dreams couldn't really hurt him, he told himself. And if it was real he was sure Iwei was taking care of it, even now. It was no big deal. He rolled over, took in a deep breath, and closed his eyes.
He did not sleep that night.

--

“Two lovers, forbidden from one another,” the sound of Aang’s voice drifted gently on the air. He sang from atop the bison’s head as he steered, his voice carrying softly past Sokka and Katara, who sat atop Appa’s saddle. “A war divides their people…”
White clouds floated calmly past Sokka’s view. Exhaustion wracked his body, but he could not sleep. He was struck with a sense of deja vu by this. His promise of rest had never come to pass. In the past four days they’d managed to survive a crazed general trying to control the Avatar state, a secret tunnel that turned out to be a deadly maze, and a cave in. On top of that, they also executed a rescue mission for the population of Omashu from Fire Nation occupation. Everything had happened so fast. While they had done some good for the Earth Kingdom city, Sokka still counted the whole affair somewhat of a loss. Aang still didn’t have an Earthbending teacher, which had been the entire point of the journey to Omashu in the first place. The disappointment at being unable to break King Bumi out from his captors, had left them a bit drained. Then there were the nightmares, of course.
He hadn’t seen Zuko since their fight, and for the past three nights he’d been stopped by that creature. It happened the same way every time. He’d catch up to Iwei, the wolf was clearly aware that the beast would show up, and was on high alert, but everytime they were powerless to stop it from raising a wall of fire that separated them. The visit would end with fire, fire that Sokka was somehow never able to escape.
“Secret tunnel! Secret tunnel!” sang Aang, suddenly jolting him out of his thought.
“Aang,” called Sokka from atop Appa’s saddle. “Give it a rest will ya?”
“What’s the matter with you, grumpy-pants?” asked Katara. Her gaze flicked up from the Northern Water Tribe scrolls she was reading, “Did you not sleep enough, again?”
“I’ll say,” Aang called back. “We could hear you tossing and turning in your sleep.”
Great, now he was keeping his team up too.
“I’m fine, I just had...indigestion.”
“Sokka, seriously,” sighed Katara, rolling the scroll up. “What has been with you recently? You’ve been jumpy for the past few nights, even before the cave in. What’s got you so upset?”
“Jumpy? What do you mean?”
“You spooked yourself with the flint when we were setting up a fire.”
“Pfft”, he waved his hand, as if to wave away her words. “I wasn’t spooked-- I nicked my finger on one of the edges.”
“You were shaking.”
“You were shaking,” he muttered. She snorted at this and couldn't help herself from laughing, and he gave her a small smile.
“Okay, what about when you're asleep?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You were muttering.”
“I don’t believe it,” he paused. “What did I say?”
“Nothing that I could understand, you were just twitching and mumbling nonsense.”
“It must just be the provisions of jerky we’ve had for dinner the past few nights.”
“We didn’t have the provisions last night,” Katara replied, folding her arms.
“It’s nothing,” he insisted with an exasperated sigh, his voice reaching a higher note.
His sister gave Aang a furtive glance, as if making sure he wasn’t listening before she scooted closer to Sokka.
“Look, I know you always wanna be all Mr. tough-guy for us, but you know you can tell me anything, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I know,” he lied, feeling a knot in his stomach.
“Then…?”
Sokka’s mind raced for any explanation, any lie, any way to distract, but the events of the past few days had drained him of good ideas. Before he could come up with anything, she said softly;
“Is this about...Yue?” she had said her name gently, knowing how obvious of a touchy subject it was for him.
His heart sank and his face gave an involuntary twinge. He frowned and turned away from her.
“No,” he said.
“Then…?”
“Please, stop pushing it,” he said. “I’m just tired. We’ve barely gotten out of the last few scrapes, and we’re no closer to finding an earthbending teacher for Aang. I’m tired, you’re tired. We’re all just tired. I promise though, I’m just as level-headed as ever.”
She looked at him, unsure, but dropped it with a nod and moved back to give him space.

Quiet resumed over the team. In such quiet, one could even resolve to nap, but Sokka’s nerves were on edge. Instead, he took to cleaning and sharpening his machete. He narrowed his eyes as he slid the whetstone across the blade’s edge. The sound was somewhat a comfort, drawn out and rough, it was the sound of progress. The sound of a weapon becoming sharper, more precise. It scraped along the surface, with a “shhhink”. The friction of the two surfaces sent sparks in its wake. He watched the sparks his mind wandering to fire. What was that creature?
Shhhhink
Was it some kind of evil spirit?
Shhhink
Why was it keeping him from seeing Zuko?
Shhhink
Did Zuko even want to see him?
Shhhink
He’d said something terrible--

“Ouch!”
One of the sparks had somehow jumped up to his eye. He’d closed it in time, but it still stuck the sensitive lid. He rubbed it, annoyed, but the sting had lifted him out of his thoughts long enough to notice that their altitude was dropping. Odd, they hadn’t discussed landing soon. He sheathed the machete and stepped the weapon to his hip, just in case Aang had spotted a threat. However, when he got up on his knees to look around all he could see was swampy terrain surrounded by mountains.
“Hey, you taking us down for a reason?” he asked their driver. Aang didn't respond. “Aang! Why are we going down?”
“What? I didn’t even notice.” the boy shook his head, as if waking from some trance.
“Are you noticing now?” he snapped.
“Is something wrong?” asked Katara, scooting closer.
“I know this is going to sound weird, but I think the swamp is...calling to me,” said Aang. “I think it wants us to land there,”
They all really were tired, thought Sokka. Alright, time the be level-headed one he’d promised to be.
“No offence to the swamp but I don’t see any land to land on.”
“I don’t know. Bumi said to learn earthbending, I would have to wait and listen. And now I’m actually hearing the earth. Do you want me to ignore it?”
The earth was speaking to him, great. He peered over the side at the dark and murky wetlands below.
“Yes,” was his only answer.
“I don’t know,” Katara chimed in, “there’s something ominous about that place.”
Momo, who’d been peering over the side with them, ducked down suddenly as a slight wind picked up. Appa seemed to pose his objection to the place as well, looking on as if reluctant to land.
“See, even Appa and Momo don’t like it here.”
“Alright,” sighed Aang, “Since everyone feels so strongly about this, bye, swamp.” and he gently whipped Appa’s reins. They began to take flight once more, when that slight wind began to grow stronger. A tornado had suddenly wiped up around them and was hot on their trail. It was too fast for the bison to out-fly. They were quickly sucked in and tossed around until it suddenly spat them out and into the murky depths.

They crash landed in the water, though thankfully unhurt. Sokka lifted himself out of the water, spitting out swampy mud and algae tasting muck.
Aang was already on his feet and looking about.
“Where’s Appa and Momo?” he asked, seemingly more to himself than the others. Without another word he used his airbending to bound up and away, to the top of the trees. Sokka looked over to see his sister was already up and looking over her stained and dirtied clothes with disgust. He couldn't blame her, the swamp had a stench to it that he'd rather not have gotten soaked in.
“You alright?” he asked, getting to his feet.
“Fine, luckily,” she nodded back. “Stragne, given how high up we fell from…” she said, her gaze turned up and around the place.
“I’ll take strange if it’s life saving,” Sokka muttered in agreement.
They were quiet for a moment, waiting for Aang to come back and lead them to where Appa and Momo had landed. His eyes searched the shadows for any threats, and while he couldn’t put his finger on why, he felt strange. Uncomfortable, especially in his arm. He scratched it lightly, maybe he’d landed on it weird.
“Sokka! You’ve got an elbow leech!”
“Where!” he cried, alarmed.
“...Where do you think?”
He looked, and upon spotting the fat, inky-black creature, grabbed it and wrenched it off, throwing it off and away without care.
“Why do things keep attaching and attacking me!?” he cried out.
Possibly hearing his friends in distress, Aang swung down from the treetops, using a vine and landing next to them.
“Did you find them?” asked Katara.
“No. And the tornado just disappeared.”
Troubling news, as Sokka had never heard of tornadoes to just appear and disappear so suddenly. But then he’d never really experienced one before, maybe they were all like this.
Even more troubling was that Appa was missing, and with it, all their stuff, including provisions, a change of clothes, and clean water. The moment of panic he felt flutter in his chest was quickly stomped down. It threatened to freeze him in place, but that was something they couldn't afford at the moment. He needed a level head to help them escape. He kept a mask of neutrality on his face as his mind turned over possible options of what to do now. It would be fine, he could get them out, he was sure. At least he still had his machete, some tool to help them out. As it turns out, the swamp was covered in vines, underbrush and other obstructions that would have been difficult, if not impossible, to traverse without it.
“Okay,” sighed Sokka, unsheathing the blade, “let's not waste any time then. We find Appa and Momo and get out of here, quickly before any more tornadoes can form. Sound good?”
He didn’t wait for an answer. Eager to find the others and get out of this place, he began to hack a trail for them to walk down, but Aang spoke up, voicing his concern.
“Maybe we should be nicer to the swamp,” the Avatar said, his tone careful. Sokka balked.
“Aang, these are just plants. What, do you want me to say please and thank you as I swing my machete back and forth?” he said, continuing to swipe at the obstructions in his way.
“Maybe we should listen to Aang,” said Katara, who turned and looked about them. “This place does feel...alive somehow.”
He paused, watching his sister and Aang look off and around at the area. Whatever they felt was lost on him, but he was sure it was nothing. They were tired, probably shocked from the fall they’d had earlier. Still, he tried to be patient.
“I’m sure there are lots of things that are alive here. And if we don’t want to wind up getting eaten by them, we need to find Appa as fast as we can,” and with that he turned and continued to forge ahead, cutting down anything that stood in their way. The other two gave no argument, but he could feel their worry. It would be fine. They would see he was right, and they’d all leave this place in one piece.

--

They had trudged through muck and swamp for hours. Exhaustion wracked their frames. They’d call out for Appa and Momo, but by this point Sokka was sure that they were just too far to hear. Aang and Katara were still spooked by the swamp, still hesitant to cut anything down and would step around a lot of the obstacles in their way. It was fine, thought Sokka, aggravated, their caution grating on his nerves. They couldn't afford to be careful, they needed to find Appa and Momo, they needed to leave. He would not allow them to be stuck in this place. He was going to get them out one way or another. But the darkness was beginning to close in on them. Fine, maybe they couldn't leave today, but he’d make sure they were strong enough to leave by tomorrow. With what little light they had left, they needed to use to set up some form of camp, and find a safe place to sleep.
“I think we should build a fire,” he said, and hurried over to the nearest wood he could find to shop away at. His heart hammered in his chest as he hacked away to the strange standing root. It looked like the only dry wood in the area. That was a relief, for at least they’d have light in this terrible, bug-infested place. His thoughts tumbled over themselves in his quiet panic; planning, assessing, ignoring his worries. Fire now, sleep soon. Maybe, if he was lucky he wouldn’t even dream. No more monsters, at least for one night. Maybe there’d be a way to fish as well, though he wasn’t exactly sure if the fish here were edible or--
“Sokka, the longer we’re here the more I think you shouldn't be doing that,” said Aang.
“No, I asked the swamp, it said it was fine. Right swamp?” he grabbed the flexible root and threw his voice higher, puppeting the tree as he said, “No problem, Sokka!” before then swiftly beheading it. Aang, clearly insulted, raised an eyebrow at him but said nothing. He buried the feeling of regret he had at snapping at him like that, even if the notion was ridiculous in his mind. It was fine, the boy would get over it and whatever anxiety he had about chopping down plants once they were all safe and warm. They just needed to survive the night.
With the fire started, and a dry patch of land found, they were able to at least rest their heads for the night. They didn’t sleep right away, however, each one probably too nervous to resolve to closing their eyes in such an open area. That, and they were starving, which was hard to sleep through. It was impossible to see any fish living beneath the surface of the murky water, and Sokka hadn’t the energy to try and fish, nor Katara or Aang.
Sokka stared into the fire, his eyes watching the light crackle and dance along the wood. His thoughts inevitably traveled back to Zuko. Was he really home? Was he safe? The whole thing just seemed to reek of a trick, but with no way to prove it, how could he have ever hoped to turn Zuko’s opinion? If he was headed into a trap, then Sokka had failed to stop him. He held his head in his hands, remembering the awful thing he’d said to him. If only that strange monster would just let him be. What did that thing want anyway?
He needed to talk to Zuko-- no. He needed to focus. He, his sister, and the Avatar were all trapped in a swamp and they needed his mind to be here, not off wandering for Zuko. Maybe it was too late for Zuko, which if it was, was his fault. Was it too late for them here in the swamp?
He drew his gaze up to see the other two looking on into the fire, also drained. Deep circles ran under their eyes. Despite having led them, they were no closer to leaving then when they initially landed here. He turned back to the fire, resolving that no matter what, they’d leave this place tomorrow. He felt his sister stur and turn around.

After they’d spotted eyes reflected from the fire light peering at them from the darkness, they’d resolved to sleep with their backs against one another. They leaned looking out into the darkness as the fire died down next to them.

Sokka did drop down into a dream. Even in that dream-like space, though, he was exhausted. He looked up to Iwei, whose head was cocked to the side, curious.
“Hey...Iwei,” he called up, wearily. “Look bud, it’s been a real day. Can we maybe put a rain check on visiting Zuko?”
It lowered its head and sniffed him.
“I’ve been trudging through a swamp. We’re pretty lost out here. Hey, would you know how to get us out?” he asked, gently holding the large creature’s snout in quiet desperation. It blinked at him in its normal quiet fashion. “No? I didn’t think so,” he sighed and let go.
The wolf drew its head back and up and sat in front of Sokka.
“I know you’ve been wanting me to meet up with him for a while, but that thing keeps stopping me. I don't know what it is or what it wants. Isn’t there any way to stop it?” He ran his hand over his head in thought. “Is it evil? It looks evil. Is it?”
Iwei gave no indication one way or the other.
“...Aang says the swamp talks to him. Are you gonna let a swamp be more talkative than you?”
Iwei whined.
“Okay, sorry. I’m just tired.”
The spirit stood up, and after gently brushing its nose against Sokka, walked a few steps ahead. With a groan Sokka followed them. They walked for a short while, and for a moment, it seemed they would not be interrupted. Up ahead, Sokka could just see the backdrop of a road that ran through a town. This was confusing, as this was clearly not the ship home Zuko had intended to take. He could see two figures lying against a sleeping ostrich-horse. Zuko slept with a conical hat that he drew over his eyes and half his face, his arms folded before him. Or at least, he was sure it was Zuko, as the other figure was clearly a snoring Iroh. What had happened? Confused, worried, Sokka hurried forward. A wall of flames sprung up before him, once again he was separated from Iwei.
“Ah!” he cried out, stepping back and away from the hot flames. He turned to see the nightmarish creature standing a distance from him, but coming ever closer. It howled and screeched at him, the oil spilling from its mouth. Sokka’s eye twitched and he stepped back, feeling the heat against his back. “Okay,” he said, turning his head to Iwei but keeping his eyes on the creature. “We tried, but it’s time to send me back now…!” Iwei whined, pacing back and forth in front of the wall, worried. “Any time Iwei…!”
“Sokka?”
Sokka turned his head back and looked past Iwei, to Zuko, who had lifted his conical hat and was staring at him. His stomach dropped upon seeing him. He wanted to respond, but his voice was stuck in his throat, and he merely looked back at him shocked. He had so many questions,-- no he should apologize first--
He felt his feet and legs suddenly frozen.
“Oh no,” he breathed, terrified. “Oh no, oh no!”
A sudden movement drew his gaze up. The creature had reached him. He heard its terrible cry just in time to turn and see it mouth wide open and ready to crush him between its teeth. He closed his eyes, awaiting the inevitable, but he was suddenly and harshly, yanked away.

Back in the swamp in the waking world, Sokka did not feel the vines creeping along him until it was too late. Having tightly wrapped themselves around himself, Aang, and Katara, they wrenched the three away from each other, dragging them flailing and screaming off into the early morning fog.
Sokka jolted back into consciousness with a terrible start, barely able to get his senses in line, but having just enough brain power to grip the machete from its sheath and draw it upward. He sliced through some of the vines that held onto him, and drove the blade into the ground to keep him in place. He strongly pulled against their grip, and just managing to free his other arm, grabbed the handle of the machete and continued to pull against them.
“Sokka…” called a raspy voice, gently, maliciously.
Surprised, he froze, and the vines won over in that moment. The machete came loose, and Sokka was dragged further into the thick fog, disappearing. He screamed as he was pulled through the swamp and into the water. He swung his blade wildly, hacking and slashing away at the vines that held him until he was free and running blindly away. It wasn’t until he stopped to catch his breath that he realized his mistake. He stood up and looked about him, listening intently for any familiar sounds or voices.
“Katara!” he called, “Aang!”
He’d left them.
He’d been dragged from them, separated.
He’d left them.
“Katara!” he called again, but heard no response. “No...no, no no, not again!” he said and began to rush through the swamp once more. “I’m not gonna lose them,” he gasped out.

“Sokka…”
He stopped in his tracks, his blood turning to ice as it ran through his veins. He turned back. Floating before him, with rays of the sun cascading down on her ethereal form, was Yue. Her expression was sad, as if disappointed. He shook his head and turned away.
“I’m...having a nightmare,” he reasoned, “I hit my head last night, it’s just swamp gas, hunger, a trick of the light…” but curiosity forced his gaze back around. She was gone, vanished into the air. He let out a breath, though he did not deny the disappointment he felt upon her disappearance. He had to keep searching for Aang and Katara. He turned, but Yue’s face was suddenly inches from him.
“You couldn't protect me,” she said, quickly, angrily. The shock forced him to step back, and tripped on a root hidden in the muck. He toppled backward into the water.
He sat for a moment and looked around, she had vanished again. His machete had fallen from his grasp, and was hidden in the kicked up clouds of dirt and algae.
A wet and terrible growl echoed through the trees then, but it was impossible to make out where it was coming from. He turned his head this way and that, searching for the source but found only fog and shadow.
“Appa?” he squeaked out, hoping beyond hope. The growl was deep and guttural, not a noise he thought the bison capable of. This was the deep growl of a predator, he knew it in his heart. He’d only just escaped it. He needed his machete.
He dove to his knees and began to carefully fumble about for it. The growling was so loud now. How was it here? Could it travel to the real world? He could swear the creature had somehow snuck up behind him. His hand thankfully wrapped around the handle of his weapon, and with a wide swipe he turned. His blade hit nothing but air. A few feet away there was a figure, however, and as the mists drew lower to the ground it revealed a figure.
Zuko stood looking angrily back at him. He wore white, and looked as bruised as he had during the siege on the Northern Water Tribe.
Sokka was sure it wasn’t really Zuko. This had to be some weird swamp-gas-fulled trick. He had little time to consider it further when the water suddenly ignited around him in harsh flames. He raised his arms and guarded his face from the savage heat that burned in a wide circle around him. Through the fire he could just see Zuko stepping toward him. The flames parted for the prince as he calmly walked closer, like a predator stalking its prey.
“Where are your friends?” he asked. “Did you leave them too?”
“I don’t understand…” whispered Sokka, still stunned at seeing him.
“Don’t you?” snapped Zuko. “Of course not. You’ve never understood.”
“You’re...not here right now. This is a nightmare? But I’m awake. No, it has to be a nightmare.”
“A shame that monster didn’t eat you last night. I would loved to have seen that.”
Sokka blinked in surprise from his words, before he furrowed his brow.
“It’d be pretty fitting for a traitor like you, huh?” continued Zuko
“I’m not a traitor,” he said, his voice firm and stern.
“Oh yeah? Friends with the Prince of the Fire Nation,” Zuko tutted, “What would your family think?”
Sokka hesitated.
“You’ve always been ashamed of me. Of us.”
“That’s not true!”
“You left.”
“I didn’t mean to--”
“Stop lying,” he ordered, and threw a fist. Sokka ducked, expecting to be burned, terribly, but it never happened.
He peeked open an eye to see what had stopped him. Zuko was gone, and so were the flames. Instead, what stood before him was himself, an almost perfect reflection of who he’d been at the age of eleven. This younger Sokka was dressed in the parka he wore in the south pole, his reflection looked at him with sadness.
“Okay...I definitely hit my head,” the original sokka whispered to himself. The reflection became suddenly obscured in a great chill, a terrible fog that swirled around them, and when it parted, left nothing behind.

The swamp was quiet, save for the few unseen bugs that chirped and hummed around him. He sighed bitterly and held his head. He’d been pulled away from Aang and Katara, and clearly he was letting these terrible dreams get to him. He needed rest, and resolved to take the world's longest nap after, but for now, he couldn't leave the others waiting. He started walking again.
He’d promised Katara that he was level-headed, but this place was making him anything but. Alright, so he’d been ignoring Aang’s warnings, but even if he was the Avatar and strange stuff like that would happen, there was no way this place was alive. It was all trees, dirty water, and bugs. Nothing magical about, just something they needed to survive. And yes, he had been brushing over Katara’s fears, but he had to make her focus on getting out. If they stopped for every sound, evey strange feeling they’d be here forever. And the visions, he reasoned, were just hunger and sleepiness letting his guilt get the better of him. He wasn’t going to let fear rule over his better judgement...just like it had on the beach with Zuko.
He groaned and slapped his palm to his forehead as the scene replayed in his mind, of how he’d lost his temper and went off on him, pushing him because he was scared of losing him.
“Gonna put a pin in that for now…” he muttered, and shifted his thoughts to his surroundings.

Eventually he made it out from the swampy waters and began to climb up one of the large roots of the tall trees around him. Maybe he’d be able to spot them better if he was higher up.
A sudden yell put him on alert, but before he could find the source he was knocked into and sent tumbling down the slope he’d just climbed up with two other bodies. The three all collapsed in a heap, their groans familiar. He looked up to see Aand and Katara picking themselves up as well. Still, now that they were okay, and seemed relatively unharmed, he couldn't help but let his temper flare up again.
“What do you guys think you’re doing?” he demanded. From the way they’d rolled down it almost seemed like they’d been playing around. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
“Well I’ve been wandering around looking for you,” Katara shot back.
“I was chasing some girl,” said Aang.
“What girl?” Katara asked.
“I dunno,” Aang admitted. He then lifted himself up and walked to Katara, helping her to her feet as well. “I heard laughing, and I saw some girl in a fancy dress.”
If there was a joke in there, Sokka didn’t understand it, and merely played along.
“Well there must be a tea party around here and we didn't get our invitations,” mocked Sokka. They didn’t laugh. Katara looked away, sadly.
“I thought I saw mom.”
Sokka froze a moment, his mind replaying all the strange things he saw. So they were seeing visions too. His mind trailed off, wondering if perhaps, just maybe some destiny-thing was happening. Nope, thought Sokka, halting that process before it spiraled out of control like it had with Aang and his sister. Alright, time to be level-headed, like he’d promised he would be.
“Look, we were all just scared, and hungry, and our minds were playing tricks on us. That’s why we all saw things out here.”
“You saw something too?” asked Katara.
Wellp, cats outta the bag now, he thought bitterly.
“I thought I saw Yue,” he said, and turned away. A half truth, but they didn't need to know the rest because it was all nonsense anyway. “But that doesn’t prove anything. I think about her all the time. And you saw Mom, someone you miss a lot.”
“What about me?” asked Aang, “I don't know the girl I saw. And all our visions lead us right here.”
“Okay, so where’s here?” asked Katara. “The middle of the swamp?”
“Yeah…” said Aang, who turned around and looked up. Sokka followed his gaze to see that they stood before a single enormous tree. It stood taller than any of the trees around it, sprouting roots in all directions. “The center. It’s the heart of the swamp. It’s been calling us here! I knew it.”
“It’s just a tree,” said Sokka, throwing his hands up, “It can’t call anyone. For the last time, there’s nothing after us, and there’s nothing magical happening here.”

A terrific splash of waves washed over them then, revealing a large and terrible monster hulking before them.
They screamed.
It’s body was made up of vines from the swamp, and its face was made of wood. It reared its body up, drawing itself up to its full height of possibly twelve feet.
All three of them ran away, splitting the monster’s attention.
Sokka dashed through the water, his mind trying to figure out what that thing was, when he felt something pick him up. Vines wrapped around his torso and limbs, powerfully lifting him out of the water and toward the monster. He screamed, there was very little else to do. It’s arm drew him back, and powerfully slammed him in the water. He was dragged back up, coughing and feeling the sting of dirty water in his sinuses as stars danced before his eyes.
“Hey!” he could hear Katara yell. Through the chaos of being handled, Sokka could just see his sister use her waterbending to create a huge spear of water and send it straight and the shoulder of the monster. It sliced through perfectly, and the vines around his body began to go slack. She next parted the waters around her, arming herself for the next attack. Since when did his sister get so powerful, he thought to himself. He had always known her to be strong, especially in spirit, but perhaps he’d been underestimating her this whole time. Maybe she’d been right to be concerned before.
The vines were just loose enough now for him to pull his machete back out and begin hacking away at them. Weakened considerably, and with the creature’s attention pulled to Aang and Katara, Sokka was easily able to hack away at them until they stopped moving and released him. Before he could start to really retaliate, he watched as the severed vines suddenly pulled themselves back together. They again wrapped around him quicker than he could fight them off. He was once more picked up, but now he was being engulfed by them, passed along and pushed to the center of the beast. There were too many to fight against and they were absorbing him into the main body. He panicked and pushed, and pulled, but was ultimately, powerless. Stupid, he thought to himself. Useless, was another terrible word that came to mind. Dead weight, too, but these thoughts weren’t helping so he pushed them aside, ignoring the sting of them. Wrapped and tangled as he was, he could do nothing to free himself. It was up to Aang and Katara to save him, though he didn’t stop trying to struggle against his binds.
Aang managed to leap on top of the beast, and using his airbending, powerfully entangled the creature in it’s own mass of vines. Sokka remained thankfully on the outside, still held in place. Taking in a breath, Katara sharply released it and sent a stream of frozen air to the vines that held him firmly in place. Freezing them to solid ice kept the vines from tightening their grip on him further, and also made them brittle. With a powerful swipe of her hands downward, she bent the ice and vine to crack and snap in half around him. Before he could fall, she used the surrounding water jettison herself to where he was being held captive, and with a powerful display of waterbending, grabbed her brother and burst through the monster’s chest. They landed having only a moment to pause as the creature drew more vines into its body.
She released him.
“You alright?”
“I’m good,” he nodded, and got back to his feet. He took out his boomerang, resolving to stick by his sister. She wasn’t done fighting yet. She raised the water in sharp disks and sent one after another to go sliding into the creature like spinning blades. They sliced through the foliage with such speed and precision it was all the monster could do to keep itself together. Sokka could just see something squirming inside the monster of the best. No, not squirming, bending.
“There’s someone in there!” he called out, “He’s bending the vines!”
It retaliated, sending vines to now wrap around her under the cover of the cloudy water. Aang jumped in just in time, and using a powerful force of airbending, blew many of the vines out front he bender’s grasp.
“Why did you call me here if you just wanted to kill us? Aang demanded.
“Wait,” the man within the vines called out. He released the rest of them, allowing them to fall away and reveal himself. The stranger was mostly naked, save for a long cloth that wrapped thankfully around his waist. “I didn’t call you here.”
The others looked at each other, unsure, before Aang continued.
“We were flying over, and I heard something calling to me, telling me to land.”
“He’s the Avatar,” Sokka spoke up, “stuff like this happens to us a lot.”
Admittedly, he realized he should have come to that conclusion much earlier, perhaps yesterday when he was telling him that there were no voices. Aang had given him a look when he’d said that, relief perhaps, for Sokka being on his side. Sokka nodded back to him before they turned their attention back to the stranger.
“The Avatar,” the man realized, and took a half step back in the direction of the great tree. “Come with me.”
The man’s hostilities dropped, the team decided they would go ahead and follow him. He’d introduced himself as the guardian of the swamp, and went on to explain the great tree, and how it had called to him, just like it had called to Aang.
“Sure it did,” said Sokka, skeptically, “It seems real chatty.”
“See this whole swamp is actually just one tree spread out over miles. Branches spread then sink and take root and then spread out more-- one big living organism, just like the entire world.”
“I get how the tree is one big thing, but the whole world?” asked Aang, skeptically.
“Sure,” nodded the stranger, “You think you’re any different from one of your friends, or this tree? If you listen hard enough, you can hear every living thing breathing together. You can feel everything growing. We are all living together, even if most folks don’t act like it. We all have the same roots, and we’re all branches of the same tree.”
His gaze looked over the vast wetlands.He looked over the trees, and thought of his visits with Zuko when they were children. Opposite sides of the world, but friends all the same. Everything had been so easy back then, back before he learned who Zuko was. No, he thought, the image of his eleven year old self looking at him. Not who Zuko is, what Zuko’s title was. His heart sank, remembering a young Zuko beg for him to return. Remembering the bitter looking eleven year old vision of himself staring at him.
“And our visions? What did they mean?” asked Katara, interrupting Katara’s thoughts.
“The swamp shows us people we’ve loved, and people we’ve lost, to remind us that they’re not really gone. They’re still here, in the form of love.”
“What if they are still alive,” asked Sokka. “What if they’re alive, and angry?”
Katara and Aang looked at him with surprise apparent on their face. The man didn’t seem fazed and simply offered a shrug in return.
“There are many things the swamp reflects. As much as it reminds us that we are connected, it also reflects our fears. To help us grow, to learn and move past them.”
Sokka lowered his gaze and the others continued to question him. Without thinking he put a hand to his chest, in the spot he’d seen his tether extend from. The swamp reflected fears as well, huh? He was certainly afraid of many things. He frowned in thought as he considered his visions. First Yue, then he’d heard the monster, which had turned out to be Zuko, which then turned into himself at a young age. His frown deepened in confusion. What did it mean? How were these things connected?

“I know where Appa and Momo are!” exclaimed Aang, yanking Sokka out of his thoughts. “Come on!”

--

They’d spent the night with fellow waterbenders who lived in the swamp. It turns out, the guardian of the swamp lived there with these people, and had offered to host them for the night. They’d shared their food with them, as well as reunited them with Appa and Momo. The team decided that they would get a full night’s sleep, resting before heading out the next morning to find Aang an earthbending teacher.
When it was time to sleep, Sokka, despite his exhaustion, couldn’t yet resolve to closing his eyes. He stayed up with the fire, long after everyone else retreated to bed. He currently stared into the fire, mindlessly breaking twigs and tossing them in to feed it.
“Aren’t you tired?” came a groggy voice. Sokka turned to see Aang approaching him, rubbing his eye as he walked over.
“Yeah, sorry, did I wake you?” he asked.
“No, I had to use the bathroom,” he yawned. “I just noticed you were still up.”
He came closer and sat down next to him.
“You should really get some sleep,” said Sokka to him. “We’re gonna have a long day of flying tomorrow to make up for these past few days.”
“Sure, but doesn’t that also apply to you?”
Sokka went tight-lipped as he realized he could not argue that.
“So, what’s been keeping you up?” the avatar asked.
“Dreams, mostly,” Sokka huffed, throwing the rest of his twig into the fire.”
They watched it crackle and catch before Aang looked back to him.
“You can tell me about it, you know,” he smiled. “Being the Avatar should mean bringing peace of mind to my friends as well.”
Sokka huffed a laugh, yet the suggestion wasn’t entirely unwanted. Perhaps he could reveal a few things. This sleeplessness couldn’t be allowed to continue.
“Alright, so there’s this nightmare I’ve been having,” sighed Sokka as he dropped the last of his reservations. He would navigate this carefully. “It happens the same way every time. I’m in this large, dark, space, and I’m on my way somewhere,”
“Where?”
“Er…” he paused. “Home,” he said quickly. “Anyway, I’m in this dark space, and before I can get there, a wall of fire shoots up in front of me. I turn around and I always see this monster.”
“Woah, what’s it look like?”
“Terrible,” he said with a frown. “It’s like if you took a wolf and a dragon, and you crushed the two together. It has scales, and fur, and a dragon snout, but wolf ears and head, and a loooong snake-like back.”
Aang made a face and stuck out his tongue.
“Ick, that does sound bad.”
“Right?” He laughed, surprised to find himself relieved to be sharing this with someone. “Anyway, I turn around and that thing is there. It spits fire at me, and I wake up.”
“Every time?”
“Every time,” he sighed, nodding.
“Hmm,” Aang put a hand to his chin. “Is that why you’ve been so jumpy about fire lately?”
Well, no, thought Sokka, but he nodded and shrugged.
“Maybe…” Aang pondered, looking up to the night sky, “maybe...try ducking out of the way of the fire?”
Sokka gave a surprised laugh.
“I’ve done that,” he said. “And when I do, it breathes icy wind, and freezes me in place.
“Okay, so, this thing is a wolf and a dragon, right?” continued Aang, and Sokka nodded. “Hmm...and you’re trying to get home...hmmm. The wolf, it's a symbol of your tribe, right?”
“Yeah,” nodded Sokka. “One of them, anyway.”
“What is the wolf to your people?”
“It’s a symbol of family and protection. They’re also protectors of warriors who go into battle.”
Aang nodded in response to this, then lowered his gaze as he continued to think.
“And a dragon is a fire nation symbol. It also represents war, but it’s also power, and determination. Maybe...” Aang’s gaze lowered to the fire as thoughts continued to turn in his mind. Sokka was about to speak, to tell him this wasn’t his problem to solve, but Aang sat up straighter, as if a thought had occurred to him. “In some way they both mean war, right? It’s what they share and what connects them, maybe even binds them in that form? Perhaps it symbolizes great conflict within you?”
Sokka blinked at him, but Aang continued.
“You’re struggling with something, something that prevents you from moving forward. That struggle comes out as violent fire, or it freezes you. Right?”
Sokka shook his head and shrugged, he wasn’t good at this dream-stuff.
“Well, think about it,” Aang shrugged back, “the creature is almost like regret, right? When someone regrets something, it's like being frozen in place, unable to let it go. And it burns like fire when you blame yourself. Is that what you’re struggling with?”
Man, this kid was perceptive. How he’d landed on that conclusion from strange dream descriptions like that? Maybe it was an Avatar-thing.
“Kinda. So what do I do?” he found himself asking.
“I guess you have to confront whatever you feel guilty about. Do you...wanna talk about it?”
He did not, in fact. The image of his younger self staring bitterly back at him flashed in his mind. So he shook his head, but smiled at Aang.
“No, it’s good. I think I understand anyway.”
The Avatar smiled back at him, and then yawned. He covered his mouth, trying to speak through the yawn.
“Well, I hope it means you finally get some sleep,” said Aang, as he got to his feet.
“It will. I’ll put the fire out, you go on ahead of me.”
Aang nodded sleepily and waved as he turned his back to the fire and left.

Now feeling safe, Sokka could slip into dreaming so much easier. He awoke to the darkness again, with Iwei waiting for him. The wolf was lying down, its head up as it waited for him to approach.
“Hey,” he called out to them. The wolf lowered its head for him, and Sokka reached out to pet it in greeting. “So...I’ve been thinking,” he started. “This new thing that keeps showing up, it’s weird, right? We know that it only ever shows up when I’m trying to see Zuko.”
The wolf sniffed, as if agreeing. Or maybe Sokka still smelled of swamp.
“Which is kinda funny, cuz...sometimes, I don’t want to see him…” he admitted quietly. It wrenched his heart to say such things. “But, you know, it’s because I wonder if he even wants to see me. I said something stupid, and I feel like I just keep messing up. Even if I talk to him, even if we make up, how do I know I won’t just screw everything up again?” he groaned and shook his head.
A noise off to his right caught his attention. The gurgling wet breaths of the creature announced its presence. Iwei looked to the beast, and Sokka could almost swear that while the spirit of light was as stoic as ever, there was a nonplussed look about it as well.
The beast stood a ways away, as large as Iwei, ears pinned back and growling with the oil dripping from its mouth, ready ignite at any moment. Sokka could now see the creature for what it was.
“You again...” Sokka muttered watching it.
It snarled and barked at him, as if in response. The creature stepped closer, but seemingly conscious of Iwei, stopped still a distance off. It had always used fire to separate them. He remembered Aang’s words as he watched the creature pace back and forth. He knew that if he and Iwei were to get up and make a dash to their destination, they’d ultimately be separated again. With a frown, Sokka stood up. This thing, whatever it was, was keeping him from seeing Zuko. He remembered the last time he’d seen him, in Earth Kingdom clothes, dirtied and leaned against an ostrich-horse. If he was in trouble, then Sokka couldn't allow this thing to stop him any longer.

“I’m not afraid of you,” called Sokka. It’s growl grew louder and it stepped towards him. Sokka stood up, and left Iwei’s side. The wolf spirit watched its charge venture a few steps from it. The spirit didn’t even flinch as the wall of fire was raised before them. The monstrous nightmare growled at Sokka, and began to advance on him. Much to the creature’s obvious surprise, Sokka also stepped towards it. “I kept thinking you were something else,” said Sokka, “Something outside of me, trying to attack me, and stop me.”
The creature stopped walking as Sokka advanced. Smoke still trailed from its enlarged maw and nostrils. It took in a great wet breath, ready to rain fire on him. “It's okay,” said Sokka, stopping the creature and causing its breath to hitch. “You’re not a monster…” he raised his hand in front of the creature’s snout. There was a pause, neither backing down. It lowered its head and sniffed him a moment, and Sokka relaxed slightly. However, the creature’s breathing hitched once more, and now even Sokka could feel the pang of anxiety the monster exuded gripping at his chest. A flash of an image played in his mind, that of fire, and guilt. The amalgamation thrashed its head from side-to-side, fire spitting out from between its teeth. It opened its great maw, rearing its body up and sent a torrential storm of fire to wash over the boy. By this time, Iwei had gotten to their feet, looking on with ears pointed directly ahead, tail raised in concern.
When the flood of fire finally ceased, the monster’s breath spent, Sokka was revealed, unharmed, and still standing. He opened his eyes, checking to see if the fire storm had stopped, before looking sadly up to the beast. It lowered itself, its breath gagged and labroed.
“You can’t hurt me...because you’re me.” he said. “I’m holding myself back from going to him...because I’m scared I failed him. I’m scared...because I never want what happened to Yue to happen to anyone I care about again. I’m afraid, and that makes me freeze or say something stupid. But I made a promise. I said I would be there for him now, that I would listen. To do that, I can’t let you hold me back anymore just because I’m scared. So please...let me see him.”
He once more held out his hand to the creature.
Tired, and with labored breaths, the monster put its snout against his palm, and closed its eyes. The body of the creature began to fade like fog, until eventually it disappeared altogether, as if carried away by some undetectable wind.
A moment or two passed before, Sokka felt suddenly incredibly tired. He could not stop himself from falling backward, but luckily he was caught by the back of Iwei’s paw. He stared up at the large wolf spirit, a weary smile on his face.
“I know it’s important to see Zuko, but maybe not tonight…?” he asked. The spirit gently set him up on his feet, before lying down beside him. Sokka could not help but sit beside them, then eventually closing his eyes and lying against their soft fur. He dreamed, and rested.

Chapter Text

“I hate you.”

The words echoed in Zuko’s mind as he lay out in the open. His gaze was pointed to the cloudless starry sky. His ostrich horse slept not too far off, he could hear it softly grunting in its sleep. Meanwhile, he’d stayed up, nursing the bruises and aches from his last fight.
It had been several days since he’d parted ways with his Uncle. He’d needed the distance, needed to space to think, to try and figure out what to do next. So far though, all he’d done is wander through the dryer part of the Earth Kingdom, starving and thirsty.
He’d met a child on his travels, who had pranked a few Earth Kingdom thugs and then thrust the responsibility of covering for them on Zuko. Not wishing to see whatever punishment the thug would administer on an innocent, albeit mischievous child, he had waved off the brute. The man, unwilling to let it go, had threatened him, but after fending him off, they’d been smart enough to leave him well enough alone. The child came out of hiding, and had thanked him for not ratting him out, and in return, had offered to show Zuko his home.
He’d gone with him under the guise of an earth Kingdom refugee. There he’d gotten to know the small family, learned that they had two sons, but that their eldest had passed. He thought a lot about family while he was with them; about his, theirs. Troubling thoughts that had been unwelcomed earlier in his life were starting to creep back in. Upon leaving the small family, he’d given the boy his pearl dagger. It wasn’t much, and the boy could either use it to defend himself, or sell it for some odd amount of money if the family needed it.
He left them, thinking he’d never see them again, until some hours later he heard a cart come rumbling toward him. The boy’s mother led the cart wildly off the road and towards Zuko. Halting it, she ran toward him, fear in her eyes. She’d relayed to him that the thugs had taken the boy, that the child had pulled a knife on them that she’d never seen before. Zuko tried to stomp down the guild as she continued while sobbing in great panic, saying that they’d told her if he was old enough to fight that he was old enough to join the army. They’d wrenched him from his family, and were probably on their way to sell him to the army. He would not allow this.

He’d rode in, but they were ready for a fight. It was four against one, and Zuko had just barely gotten out alive. He’d had to resort to firebending. Defeated, the earth kingdom soldier asked for his identity, and in that moment, he’d proudly spoken it. That moment of prideful victory was fleeting, as he looked to the citizens who’d gathered around, and saw fear in their eyes. They’d whispered, eyeing him like a dangerous viper.
“Liar!” one of the townspeople had called, “I heard of you. You’re not a prince, you’re an outcast. His own father burned and disowned him!”
He ignored them, deciding to instead retrieve the pearl dagger front he thug and return it to the boy. His mother was beside him, making quick work of the ropes. He walked closer, to help, maybe, but she stepped in front of him, guarding her son.
“Not a step closer,” she’d said. She looked at him the same way the others had. Well, that was fine, he thought, and knelt down to show he was not going to harm anyone. He offered up the dagger once more to the child.
“It’s yours, you should have it,” he said. Any warmth or admiration that he’d seen in the child’s eyes had all together vanished, and now only fierce anger took its home there.
“No, I hate you,” he’d said, and turned with his mother and left.

He had every right to. It was because there was a war with the fire nation that the family’s eldest son was dead.
Staring up at the sky, he was unsure what to feel. He felt nothing, but the nothingness was crushing all the same. He sat up, holding his head in frustration as a new thought barged in.
The beach, Sokka, the argument, and the fire. It all played in his head as it had for the last few days. He was convinced that Sokka would never want to speak to him, but then something strange had happened. Days ago when he was still traveling with his Uncle, he’d seen him. It was the beginning of a dream, a visit, but the darkness was still visible. Within it, he could see that great spirit, Iwei, but it was facing away from him, looking to a great wall of rushing flames, jetting up from the ground.
“Any time now Iwei…!”
His eyes widened at hearing Sokka’s voice. Confused, he called out to him. He could just see him though the flames, looking wide-eyed and nervous. Then something else came barreling towards him, monstrous and huge.
The dream had ended there, and he’d awoke with a start.
He hadn’t seen him since, and now, he was starting to grow worried. He gripped his short hair as he thought. Was there perhaps a way to see him? A way to call that spirit to him?

He growled with agitation and flopped back on the earth. Why did every step he took feel wrong? He’d tried to feed himself and his Uncle, but all it earned him was a lecture and a parting of ways. He’d tried to help a boy and his village, and was shunned with hateful glares. Was going after Sokka even worth it, or was he going to mess it up as well? Then again, it had been many nights since that strange dream incident had occurred. Perhaps Sokka was alright. Maybe he’d never intended to visit him. Why would he, he thought, staring back up at the sky.

He awoke to the sun rising in the sky. It was still morning by the looks of things. Time to pack up and head out. As he untied his mount from the nearby tree, he remembered with some disappointment that he hadn’t dreamed. He hadn’t seen Sokka again.
He tried to push the boy out of his thoughts as he kicked a leg over his ride to sit atop it. He gently whipped the reigns, clicked twice with his tongue, and allowed it to carry him back to the road.

He wandered along it until he came to another town. Many of the towns out here were destitute, the war had taken a toll on them. He’d steeled his heart and hopped off his ostrich horse, tying to a post outside and heading in to find some means of breakfast. He walked in, keeping his conical hat on, and his gaze low. There weren’t many people around.
A board was set up in the center of town, with a collection of wanted posters hung up. Some minor official stood before the board hammering in one such poster. Zuko lifted his gaze, but upon seeing his likeness in the form of a wanted poster stare back at him, he quickly looked away. He waited for the man posting it to leave, watching cautiously. After waiting a short while, he walked closer to it. Many of the people around didn’t even seem to notice Zuko, and hardly looked at the board. He carefully raised his gaze to the wanted poster. This could be trouble, he thought, and quietly reached up and tore it down. He folded it neatly and placed it in the sleeve of his robe. He’d dispose of it outside of town. He went to find food.
He was lucky to find a manned stall, and had quickly bought up some rice and meel. It was all he could afford if he wanted what little money he had to last. It was as he was walking back to his horse that he happened to overhear a passing conversation.
“...been to it recently. It’s near dried up.”
“If the stream is drying up, you know it’s an omen.”
He paused, pretending to shift the weight of his purchase as he listened. If there was water nearby, he was interested.
“Hard to say for sure, but it is worrying,” the other voice agreed. From what Zuko could quickly gather they were two older women, their clothes threadbare and their hair grey. One of them had her hair down and held together loosely over the shoulder, remnants of a chestnut brown peeked through the silver bunch. The other wore Earth Kingdom armor that was quite old, looking as though it were battle worn and in need of serious tlc. The one with loose hair held a basket of vegetables. He was eyeing the vegetables in the baskets when the gentle looking woman spoke.
“Worrying? If the spirit of the spring dries up, who do you think is going to protect us?”
A spirit! Who knew if it was real, but his mind suddenly turned to Sokka and the strange dream. He walked closer, keeping his eyes tilted downward and obscured by his hat.
“Excuse me,” he said, approaching them. They glanced his way with a frown.
“What do you want?” asked one of them. He could only really see their feet from under his hat. One wore faded pink shoes that were worn through and nearly white. While the other wore black boots that were covered in dried mud and dust.
“I heard you mention a spring, is it far?”
“We don’t need any outsides desecrating our spring,” said the woman on his left, with the boots.
“I mean no disrespect,” continued Zuko, “I’m...a...traveling monk.”
“A monk? You don’t look like any monk I’ve ever seen.”
“Many bandits go after monks. I try not to look the part.”
“If you’re a monk,” said the woman with the pink shoes, “perhaps you could visit the shrine, and pray for it?”
“The shrine?” he asked.
“Mei-hua,” the other whispered harshly, but the woman ignored her.
“Please,” she said. “It’s a spring, and it’s been drying up recently. I think it’s a bad omen. If you could go to it, maybe? Pray at it, perhaps let her know we still believe in her?
“I’ll...see what I can do,” he said, suddenly feeling this was a bad idea.
“And take this,” she said, the image of a long white turnip coming into view. He stared at it hungrily, glad his vision was obscured. “It’s her favorite.”
The other voice sighed deeply.
“Don’t be giving away your vegetables to strangers,” they said.
Zuko took it and bowed.
“Thank you, I’ll make sure she gets it. But first, I must know where she is, and by what name she goes by.”
“She is the spirit of the spring, that’s all I know about her. She’s been here longer than this village, and I only found her when I was a girl. If you head north, into the forest, just follow the trail until it goes east. Take the beaten path, it’ll be lined with avaberry bushes. You’ll find it there.”
“Thank you,” he said, and turned to leave with another bow.
“Good luck,” the woman called, but he continued on.

Okay, the woman was crazy, and maybe lying to her was wrong, but it wasn't as though he’d intended to go over to steal her vegetables. And beside, she’d given it to him freely. At least, if she was wrong and it was all just nonsense, he’d have fresh clean water for himself and his ostrich horse. And if there were berries along the way-- presuming they were edible-- more food. Great.
He’d just reached his mount when he heard someone call to him.

“Stop right there,” said the voice of the woman in armor. Keeping his gaze lowered he turned back. “Listen, you,” she said, coming closer to him. “I don’t know what you’re trying to pull with that little stunt, but you’d better not do anything to that place, understand?”
“I have no intention of doing anything wrong,” he said, agitated.
“You’d better not, and don’t let me catch you hanging around here again. We’ve had enough trouble makers rolling through the area.”
He heard the sound of a blade being part way unsheathed, before she forcefully clicked it back in.
“Understood?”
“Completely,” he said. With that he turned and untied his mount and began to lead it away. He could still feel her eyes on him, even as he mounted his ride and took off in the direction of the forest. He turned back to get a look at the woman’s face, in case there were trouble with her later. Her hair was grizzled and grey, and pulled back into a loose bun. Her eyes were sharp, and despite the sagging of age on her cheeks and neck, she looked strong for her age.

It didn’t matter, he intended to never come back to this place. He rode off and to the forest. Sure enough, like Mei-hua had said, there was indeed a path. He followed it for half an hour, before it split off and bended east. If one wasn’t looking for it, they’d perhaps never suspect there was even a second path. It bent north west and was overgrown with berry bushes and tree roots. Patches of worn down trail still remained, at least enough to navigate. He led his mount down the trail,carefully searching for the tell tale signs of the path as it began to wind and bend. It was a short walk, fifteen minutes on his mount, until he came to a clearing.
A small gathering of rocks ran along the side of a mountain, and from it, there spilled forth a little trickle of water into a large pond. From how large the pond was, to how much mud and muck there now resided around it, it did look as though the spring was shrinking. Its water source was dying out. Large berry bushes, tangled by ivy, bordered the area, but it seems there was a path that had been recently trampled out to the water itself. He got off his mount and carefully followed it. Kneeling down, he looked to the otherwise clean waters.
There was nothing particularly special about them, it seemed. He scrunched up his nose at it, then let out a breath and shook his head. Well, he’d found it, but what was the next step? He stared at the water, unsure. When no answers appeared, he turned and walked away.
“What am I doing?” he muttered

He’d set up camp and brought his ride to the spring to drink. He himself had been grateful to sip clean water for the first time in a while. He’d made his dinner of meel and rice, creating a kind of porridge that reminded him of paste more than food, and ate it before he thought too hard about it. While there were berries around, he had no idea if avaberries were edible. He decided, after seeing his uncle nearly kill himself for a pot of tea, that he’d abstain. He’d remembered the turnip, and had considered eating it, but something in him made him just want to forget about it all together. The woman’s friend had been protective of her, and the vegetable wasn’t for him. He stared at it from where he sat, his mind turning over whether or not to just chop it up there and add some kind of flavor to his otherwise paste-dinner. He let out a breath, resolving that the food before him was enough. Besides, if he truly were hoping to somehow reach Sokka, perhaps this turnip could be used as a means of bargaining, or payment for passage.
This was ridiculous, he thought, embarrassed.

That night, before going to bed, he’d traced his way back to the spring, and quelling how ridiculous it felt, he set the turnip down rather unceremoniously to the spring’s edge. He stared at it a moment, unsure. Should he say something? Was that how this worked. His Uncle knew things about the spirits. He wished he could know what his advice would be at the moment. But he wasn't here, and Zuko was flying blind. He stood straighter and puffed out his chest.
“Spirits,” he said, looking around at the dusky scenery. He remembered how Iewi had been immediately hostile toward him when he’d ordered the Spirit around. Perhaps he’d try again, less prideful. “Sprits…” he said more quietly. “I’ve brought a turnip.” This was going well, he thought with sarcastic bitterness toward himself. “I was told there was a spirit here who guards the spring. I don’t know if you’re still here or not but...I need help. There’s someone I want to find, someone who I think might need my help. So...help me.”
He listened to the crickets and bugs around the spring chirp, but other than their ambiance, there was only silence.
His hand lightly slapped to his face in humiliation. He was crazy, he was sure, as crazy as the old woman who’d given him this turnip. Just what on earth did he think he was doing? He wasn’t his uncle, he’d never really gone out of his way to see Spirits before. The only time he’d ever entered into the darkness of that place was because he’d been led there by Iwei’s howl. Frustrated, and feeling hopeless he turned away from the water and stepped back over to his camp not several feet away from the thorny underbrush.

Zuko had curled up and found sleep relatively easily.

When next he opened his eyes he sat up and looked about him. It was night, and he was still in the forest. It seemed it hadn’t worked. Frustrated, he balled his fist and struck the ground.
“Of course…why would I expect anything different?” he muttered. He stared, frustrated, until that frustration turned to stun. His hand...he could see right through it. It was a white color, outlined in blue light. Through his hand, he could see his body lying unconscious before him. Surprised he cried out and backed away from it. Was he dead? He looked over his translucent form, before fearfully creeping back to his body. He leaned into his own face, and felt a wave of relief wash over him when he heard himself breath. And when he sighed, so did his body. Alright, so he was in the spirit world, possibly. Or just having a very vivid dream.
A light off to his right caught his attention. It was coming from the spring. Curious, he stood and wandered closer, not minding the bushed as they passed through his form without harm.

The spring was as it had been when he was awake, save for the fact that the water was now glowing. It was so bright that he couldn’t see the bottom of it. He knelt to it and reached out a hand.
A chittering noise caught his attention. Alarmed he turned, but found nothing. Then, from the center of the spring, there rose a large water beetle. Water beetles, typically from what Zuko had seen in this land, were usually no larger than the palm of his hand. This one was possibly the side of his head. Its shell was an iridescent color that Zuko had never seen before, and in the moonlight the colors of purple, black, and green all shown brilliantly.
“You’re...the spirit?” he asked, shocked and somewhat put off. It gave a high pitch chitter, two mandibles in the front clicking as if it were speaking. The large bug swum closer, and Zuko could not help but to step back and away. The large bug’s shell vibrated in excitement as it drew near the turnip, and quietly dragged in into the water. Not quite it, as it dragged from it the same white outline that Zuko now appeared in.
He watched, patient, and quietly confused as it dragged the ghost of this vegetable under and out of sight.
It surfaced again, facing Zuko. It bobbled gently in the water, made a chittering noise, and then opened its shell. Magnificent wings of light erupted from it and fluttered, lifting it’s great body out of the water. It flew up to the mountain side and clung to it, facing upside down. It’s wings remained out, and the whole spirit lit up in the same brilliant light. Zuko had to shield his eyes, it was so bright, but he noticed that the surface of the water changed. The water reflected that of tree tops, different than that of the forest he slept in here, and in the day. He looked to the spirit.
“You want me to go in there?” he asked.
It gave a high pitch chitter, bowing its body like a little nod. He looked to the water, unsure, but what was the point in waiting? This was what he’d been looking for. Without another moment’s hesitation he dove in.

He’d instinctually held his breath as he went, but realized quickly that this was not his real body. Still, it felt too real to actually release the air he held onto. He swam down, until some strange sensation overcame him, where he felt he was actually swimming up. He hit the surface and gasped, the taste of muddy swamp water accidentally slipped into his mouth. He spat it out, wiping it away with his forearm. Something suddenly rose up from under him and booted him out of the water a few feet. He sat still, alarmed at what was beneath him. He took a few cautious pats, but it seemed all that was there was ground and mud. He stood and looked around.
Mangroves sprouted from the water, all surfacing out of this swampy place and making a dense looking forest. Was this where Sokka was? What could he be doing out here?
“Sokka!” he called out.
“Hey! Keep it down!” called a voice.
Zuko turned behind him to see a small meditation platform, and sitting atop it, a monkey in monks clothes.
“Some of us are trying to enjoy eternal tranquility and harmony with the universe.”
“Oh…” said Zuko, looking to the spirit with unabashed shock. It sniffed at him, frowning.
“You’re gonna catch a bug if you keep your mouth open like that, slack-jaw.”
Zuko quickly shut his mouth and frowned.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” he said, not meaning it.
“As you should be,” he said, interrupting the prince before he could speak. He felt his temper flare up, but in some precious moment of lucidity he refrained from arguing with a spirit.
“...but, have you seen someone else come by here?”
“I have.”
“Was he human? He has dark hair in a wolf tail and--”
“Ulch, it never ceases with you lot. Always chattering away…”
Zuko’s temper flared, but he quelled it quickly. His lesson with Iewi taught him not to anger these things. He didn't know this spirit,and did not know if they would hold back if provoked.
“I promise to leave you to eternal meditation if you tell me whether you’ve seen him or not.”
“I did.”
“Where is--”
“Ah-ah! You promised. Now go away.” And with that they closed their eyes and sat up with a huff.
Zuko put a hand to his face in frustration, but turned to walk away. Fine, he didn’t need that spirit anyway.
“Wait,” he heard it call out.
“I thought you were meditating,” he shot back.
“I just realized that if you don’t know where you’re going you’ll wind up back here to annoy me. So let me just give you one piece of advice. You are looking for someone, but this place doesn't follow the same laws as your world. If you allow your emotions to control you, you will never make your way out. Humans don’t survive without a guide here. Find yours, and they’ll take you where you wish to go.”
“My guide? I don’t have a guide.”
“You don’t? Then how did you get here?”
“I...gave a turnip to a water bug and it opened a portal to this place…”
The creature stared at him, and Zuko’s cheeks went pink with embarrassment at how crazy that sounded.
“Child...you’re going to die out here.”
“Oh go meditate,” he spat back, and continued walking away.

Now further from that frustrating spirit, he could think a bit more clearly. As he looked around, he realized this place was familiar. He’d seen it before, when Iwei had led him there to see Sokka. The wolf had done something to him then, had made his tether appear. If he needed a guide, then what better guide than the very thing that connected him to Sokka.
He closed his eyes and took in a breath, touching a hand to his chest. He wasn’t sure how to summon such a thing. Still, perhaps if he thought of Sokka, maybe if his tether would appear. He visualized the golden strand, and when he opened his eyes was surprised to find it glowing before him. It trailed off, rounding past trees and into some unknown direction. Zuko followed it, hurrying as he did, but it began to fade from view. He’d have to go by feeling from here on.

He’d gone a short distance, when suddenly he saw a bridge. It was a strange thing to see out in the middle of an otherwise uninhabited place. What else was strange about it was that it merely sat in the water, instead of connecting any parts of land. Atop the bridge there stood a figure, their back to Zuko, looking over the bridge and to the water. Curious, but still cautious, he stepped closer. He watched them, unsure if he should call out or not. They moved, seeming to tear at something, before casting it down to the waters below. The scene was strikingly familiar to Zuko, who watched, as if in a trance. He could just hear humming, a soft melody that carried lightly on the air.
“Summer oceans call me home...back to their sandy shores…”
That song, he’d not heard it since he was very young. His eyes widened, the woman’s voice was familiar. He felt numb, and he could not stop himself from trudging forward. He stepped onto the bridge, but the figure did not seem to notice him. He reached out his hand for her.
The figure turned but disappeared before he could get a look at their face.
Gone, but in her wake there lay a vast city, the swamp had vanished entirely.
He shook himself out of the strange feeling, looking around. The pristine white city was empty, not even birdsong hung in the air. He continued down the bridge, suspiciously. This spirit world was strange indeed.
He walked to a great wall with dark red, iron, doors. Spit down the middle was the symbol of his home, his people, and his father. The symbol of the fire nation loomed over him. This was the great gate to the palace. He was home. He stared up, confused by the dread that filled him. The heavy doors cracked and parted, opening all by themselves. The long path to the palace was laid out in a magnificent red and gold carpet. Deeper in, he could see someone standing there, waiting for him.

The figure from before stood with a hood over her head, the shadow of which completely obscured her face. Her hands were folded neatly in front of her, as if she were waiting patiently for him. He entered without a second thought. The courtyard was empty, but cheering began to sound. Clapping and the sounds of joyful screams field the air upon the prince’s return. Red and gold streamers flung through the air, and he found himself swathed in fine silk robes. His hair was pristine and pulled back into its royal knot, the weight of it atop his head felt familiar and welcomed. The area around him filled with people, smiling joyfully at the return of their long, lost prince. He waved, but caught himself in the next moment, looking ahead, stern, and neutral, a born leader. The blood that ran through his veins was divine, and gave him the right to rule. He reached the end, but the figure from before was gone. He looked about, confused, before taking off further into the palace.
His footsteps echoed along the corridors, the cheers from outside no longer able to reach him, completely cut off. The silence weighed on him as he searched the main rooms and halls of the place. He was looking, searching, frantic. Where was she?
He skidded to a halt in front of a sliding screen, he could see the outline of a woman sitting there before a tea set, the steam of which rolled up and out of the cup she held. He seized the door and opened it, but found nothing but an abandoned and broken tea set. He breathed, his heart hammering in his chest as he entered the small tea room. The grand metal pot was smashed and dented, the cup shattered and scattered across ripped and weather beaten sitting cushions.
“Looking for someone?” asked a small voice.
Zuko turned, looking down to his sister. She was small, possibly the age of ten, but with a pulled and sinister smile no ten year old should know how to make.
“Where is she,” he demanded.
“Who?” she asked in mock innocence. He wasn’t sure if she knew how to be such a thing. “Mom?”
“Yes. Where is she?”
“Hmmm…” she paused, knowing that every moment Zuko waited was a strain on his nerves. “Oh! I know. I saw her go into the war room.”
His eyes widened with fear.
“She can’t go there!” he said,
“Why? Afraid she’ll get burned?” she smiled, maliciously.
With a growl of aggravation he pushed past her, unaware of when he’d suddenly shrunk down to her height.
He ran through the halls, but the place had suddenly become bigger and confusing; doors led to walls, stairs ascended to nowhere, and halls that he ran down began to repeat. Panicked, he turned his head, this way and that, unsure where to go, wishing to reach his mother’s side before something terrible would happen. He couldn't’ choose a side to run down, and had no memory of which direction he’d run from. This part of the palace didn’t even look familiar.
He held his head, the pang of tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. He was lost.
Something buzzed. His breathing hitched as he looked up, wiping away the beginnings of teas as he looked for its source. A water beetle, small and unassuming flew gently past his field of vision and began to head down a third hall Zuko had not previously seen. Strange, he thought, watching it go. He’d never seen water beetles in the palace before. He wanted to follow it, it felt so familiar. As his feet lead him, he began to forget the panic he’d felt before.
The shiny, dark little bug flew along and out to a small courtyard. It was his favorite place in the palace. A little area he and Azula would play in, with a tree to lie beneath, and a little pond for turtle ducks. The beetle flew over to the water, and Zuko followed.
He stared at the water’s surface, but could not see the bottom of the pond. Instead, he saw a reflection of someone else, with the sky above them. A boy with dark skin, wearing a short sleeve robe that was held together in the middle by some thin wrap stood there. They knelt down to one another, their eyes curiously studying one another. He knew this boy, he just couldn't remember how. He liked him, he knew he did, as a smile graced his face upon seeing him. How could he forget someone who made him feel relief like this.
“Sokka…” the name seemed correct.
Then it hit him, the memories, the years away from home, the North, the argument, his sister’s lie, and his new life on the run. He looked back to his reflection and saw himself there, once more the age of fifteen. His gaze tore away from his reflection and he looked to the little garden, which was now barren and dry.
“This place isn’t real…” he realized. He’d been so caught up in his memories, he’d let his emotions move him. “Sokka!” he looked back down, but the water was gone. The pond was dry, caked and parched. He frantically dove his hands into the earth and began pulling the dirt away, hoping to find water beneath it.

“Pathetic,” said a voice that nearly stopped his heart. He froze as the sound of cheering began to rise, distant at first, but growing louder by the second. He didn’t want to move.
“Get up!” demanded the voice of his father. “Stand and face me.”
“No…” he said, quietly, his voice trembling. He wasn’t answering him, after all there was none there to answer. This place was made of memories, of shadows and illusions. He was here for a different reason. He’d been distracted long enough. He began to dig at the earth again, and to his relief the ground grew wetter, colder, under the parched dirt.
“Zuko!” the voice of his father shouted, his voice just barely louder than the roar of the bloodthirsty crowd. But he dug, reminding himself over and again;
“This place isn’t real, this place isn’t real,”
“If you will not rise, then I will teach you respect!” the voice of his father growled harshly. He could hear the roar of fire angrily flying toward him. In one last desperate move, Zuko ducked and dug his fingers as far into the earth as he could and scraped away.
The force at which the water rushed out from the pond was immense and washed over Zuko, the garden, and the illusions that stood behind. The water against this skin was clean, and welcomed. It slid from his lips into his mouth, and he hadn’t realized how parched he’d been until he liked away those drops.
He’d sat knelt down, allowing the water to rain on him until it finally stopped. He sat up, taking in a breath of relief as he looked to the calm waters. The little water beetle from before poked its head above the surface.
“I failed…” Zuko said, looking at the creature, remembering that this was the same beetle he’d seen above it’s spring. “I came here looking for him, but he’s not here,” he put a hand to his chest. He could no longer feel the pull of his tether trying to guide him. He’d forgotten about it so easily. “Not in this place, anyway.”
The shell of the bug’s wings clicked together, and it dipped under the water. From where it entered, the surface of the water rippled, the image changing. The image of Sokka came into view, surprising him. The boy was sleeping peacefully.
The little water beetle emerged from the water and crawled onto the rocks.
“You found him,” he said, quietly astonished, though why should he be surprised? Spirit, even ones that looked like bugs, were pretty powerful. “Can I...can I talk to him?” he asked. The bug gave a nod, which involved its whole body dipping one toward him like a little bow, before it gently slipped back under the surface of the water. The image once more rippled and changed to the dark expanse of the void he knew Sokka to travel in. Within, Iwei sat there in their celestial aurora form, looking to Zuko as if expectantly waiting for him. He let out a breath, and reached out to the water.
“You’ll only hurt him again,” said the voice of his sister. He froze. “You burned him once already. You think he’ll really forgive you for doing that?”
His outstretched fingers clenched as he hesitated.
“I...I’ll apologise,” he argued weakly.
“Oh, yeah, because that went over well last time, right?”
“I hate you” echoed the voice of the village child. “I hate you” it repeated, causing him to withdraw his hand, as if away from a dangerous eelviper or scorpionhopper.
“But go ahead,” his sister said, maliciously nonchalant, “lets see how you mess this up too. That’s all you do, you know.”
“That’s not true.”
“Oh right, it’s not as though father actually banished you because of anything you did, right?”
“Enough!” he yelled and swung his arm back in terrible anger.
He turned, but faced the dueling platform in the Agni kai arena. His heart hammered in his throat, and he desperately turned back, but all he saw was the other end of the stage, and a frantic crowd of cheering faces, their smiles pulled a little too far back and their teeth prominent.
“You dare raise your voice in my court?” his father bellowed from around him. “Then it seems I will have to teach my unruly son a lesson.”
“Father-- no!” he couldn't help but cry out as he dropped to his knees, shielding his face. Something hot approached his skin, his scar ached horribly. The sound of buzzing was the last thing he heard before everything went white.

He gasped and sat up, sweat trailing down his face. He looked about himself, feeling the earth under his hands, the scene of a forest around him. It was early, the sun only just starting to rise. He let out one last breath before he laid back down, looking up to the forest canopy. His hands wiped his hands down his face as he recalled everything that had happened. His fist wildly swung and struck the ground next to him, squishing a few berries and cutting up his fist front he thorns in the bush.
“Stupid…” he muttered to himself.
Sokka had been right there, all he’d needed to do was reach out to Iwei-- but no. He’d let his anger get the better of him. He’d never change, never learn. He was so angry he could yell, but instead he allowed the anger to burrow in him, and he held it in his heart.

He’d gotten up and made breakfast, a small meal of rice, though he hardly felt like eating. Afterwards, he’d quickly packed his things onto his well rested ostrich horse, and started leading the creature away. He stopped a moment, his gaze drew back to the spring. Quietly, he once more tied up his mount, and turned back. He walked through the bushes, looking down at the drying spring. The beetle had saved him, had put Zuko back in his body before whatever terrible fate was about the befall him. He remembered his uncle’s words about gratitude.
His eyes wandered over to where the water sprung from. The small rocky formation that allowed it to trickle down was scuffed up, as if someone had been digging at it. His eyes studied it carefully, until he noticed something that didn’t belong. A rock front he spring itself, smoothed over from years of lying in the running water, had been jammed in there. He withdrew the small rock, only to find something tumble out of it from the force of the water that had been blocked up before. Carefully, he lowered down and lifted up the piece of parchment. He opened it, and found that, while it was smudged he could still make out the name Rei-Zha.

“Thought you would have left by now,” came a gruff voice. He didn’t have to turn to know it was the woman from before in town. He did though, holding up the wet wanted poster to her. The image was on it, though much of it was faded and wet, her outline was still obvious.
“I can see why you wouldn’t want anyone coming here. What’s your crime, eco-terrorism?” he scoffed.
“You here after the reward?” she asked, using her thumb to click her sword out of its sheath. His eyes narrowed.
“No, but you probably are,” he said. She smiled and took out a neatly folded piece of paper. Holding it by one end, she shook it out, until it unfolded, with Zuko’s face looking back at him.
“Handing over some fire nation brat in exchange for my own history to be wiped clean, doesn’t seem like a bad deal, does it?”
“It says here you’re fire nation, too. Be a real shame if your friends in town found out.”
She frowned deeply at him, and took a step forward, but her foot landed on something that snapped. The turnip from before lay there, and she removed her foot, looking at it curious.
“You actually offered it up,” she grumbled.
“I’m just a monk,” he said. “And you’re just an Earth Kingdom citizen. Right?” his words were a deal, an offered truce. She considered it for a moment, before sniffing and allowing her sword to click back into its sheath.
“Let me ask you this,” she said. “You have any reason for coming here?”
“You’re real protective of your friend and this spring,” huffed Zuko. “Is the tough act for show, or is it that you’re playing innocent to Mei-hua and her village when you’re really a criminal.”
“She’s my tether,” she answered, her tone even, and Zuko’s eyes widened in response. “I’d do just about anything to make sure her and the things she loves remain safe.”
“By jamming your wanted poster into the spring?”
“There’d been some trouble recently. Fire Nation that wandered too far east, if you ask me. Guess they were trying to stop-up the spring to force us out. They were looking for trouble, but were taken care of, swiftly. Hope you didn’t eat any of the berries,” she said with a smile. Zuko did not want to know what such a thing meant.
“No,” he answered. “If we have no more business here, then I’ll be on my way,” he said.
“And don’t come back.”
“Happy to,” he said, and held up the wanted poster, burning it in his grasp. He passed her with a wide berth, in case she were to try anything. He reached his mount, untying it, and climbing atop it. Before he did, he could see the woman was still looking to the turnip, before she looked over to him.
“What’re you waiting for, permission?” she spat.
“Your tether,” started Zuko, and the woman narrowed her eyes. “Does she know?”
“Why do you care?”
Zuko paused, searching his mind for an excuse but the woman sniffed, looking down at him even from up on his mount.
“Tethered too, huh? It’s written all over your face. What nation is yours from?”
“...Water Tribe.”
“North or South?”
“South.”
“That’s rough.”
He narrowed his eyes at her, insulted, but she held up her hand.
“We have a complicated and bloody history with them. One I don’t know if they’ll ever forgive. You’ve got your work cut out for you. Want my advice?”
Zuko didn’t answer, caught between his pride and a longing for direction. She continued anyway.
“Your tether will be there, even in the worst of times, if you let them. Be open. Even at your ugliest, you’ll be surprised who’ll see past it and to who you really are, so long as you’re not actually a monster,” she said, chuckling darkly at the last part.
“Are you done?” he grumbled. Who was this stranger to lecture him, regardless of her advice.
“You can go any time, scrawny,” she said, and was first to turn and leave. “Don’t come back,” she said, and left.

He narrowed his eyes at her, and gently kicked the side of his mouth, running straight past her and to the main road, heading away from the dusty little village. It took near to about an hour to leave that small forest behind, and head back onto the open road.
A familiar shadow flew over him then. He turned his eyes up to the sky to see the large flying bison of the avatar. From it rained down white hair. The wind picked up most of the shedding coat, but much of it fell to the ground in an almost perfect trail. His eyes lingered on the shrinking outline of the Avatar’s mount. Instinct kicked in, a bitterness in his heart at the memory of his home, his people cheering for him. Bitter, but desired all the same.
Sokka was fine. It was time to focus on ending his banishment. He clicked his tongue and kicked his steed gently on its sides, and the creature took off.

--

“Leave!”
A wall of fire erupted in front Sokka and the Gaang. The others dashed away without question, unwilling to be burned by the terrible heat of Zuko’s firebending. Though, through the fire, he could see Sokka had stepped back, but remained. He had not flinched in the instinctually horrified way that his teammates had. They’d sped off, but he remained, looking down at Zuko. He was exhausted, drained from the looks of it. It was only as he looked down at him that the prince noticed the deep, obvious, circles under his eyes. No doubt this was the result of whatever plan Azula had concocted that he’d just manage to help stop. Together with the help of the Avatar and his small band, they’d even managed to corner her, but in one ruthless act, she’d shot lightning at Zuko’s uncle, Iroh, and used the cover of everyone’s retaliating bending to make her escape. Azula was gone, but the damage had been done, now Iroh lay on the ground, his breathing shallow and labored. Zuko was staring up at Sokka, still panting with rage, fighting to keep tears of panic back.
“I said go!” he yelled at Sokka.
The Water Tribe warrior reached back and into the satchel he’d strapped across his back, and Zuko was on guard, ready for whatever act of retaliation or revenge Sokka would take on him for firebending at him again. His eyes narrowed, his teeth grit, his jaw clenched. He watched as Sokka’s hand emerged from the small satchel, and took out a roll of bandages. Clearly stunned with confusion, Sokka took the opportunity to grab Zuko’s hand and press the clean roll into his grasp. The prince stared at him, shocked, suspicious. Sokka forced the prince’s hand to close around it, and stared intently into his eyes as he spoke.
“Take care of your uncle,” he said, his tone instructing. “I’m sorry, and I will find you again,” he whispered.
He let go of Zuko, and turned to follow the gaang without another look back.
Zuko stared after him, his grip on the bandages tight.
What did that mean?
There was no time to think of it, as he turned his attention back and began to do what he could for his only family.

Chapter Text

Ba Sing Se was beautiful, so long as you lived in it’s middle to upper most rings. The privilege with which some of these people lived with was, to Sokka, overwhelming. No one lived like this in the Southern Water Tribe, but that could be attributed to the fact that where he grew up was a desolate arctic landscape whipped out long ago by Fire Nation raids. Still, he liked to believe that his people would not have separated themselves as severely as Ba Sing Se had.
Despite the obvious classism, there was no arguing that the place was beautiful, and the food delicious. They’d only just arrived not but two days ago, and in that time had tried to inform the King their plan for invasion. It was a full-proof plan, one that Sokka had come up with himself after finding the Library of Wan Shi Tong, the fabled library of all the world’s knowledge.
He looked up to the blue sky, to the passing clouds, trying to imagine what it will look like when the moon eclipses it. Will it be as dark as night? No, surely not, as the sun’s rays will still peek through, but it will be dark.
Their plans to inform the king had failed, and that’s when they had learned the terrible truth of this beautiful, deadly, city. Ba Sing Se was ruled by the Dai Li, though it’s people thought that the King was in control. The man was merely a puppet, a figurehead, while Long Feng, the head of the Dai Li, handled all militia and foreign affairs, keeping the city and its citizens ignorant of the war outside the walls.
Now, under the supervision of the Dai Li, there was little they could do but wait and attempt to find their missing friend and ride, Appa.
As the Gaang waited for any sign of Appa, they spent many of their days passing the time by walking around the city. Sometimes together, but most often times, alone, or in pairs. Much of their walks had to do with reconnaissance, trying to listen for any mention of Appa. However, today, Sokka was taking a break from the group, and was heading to the lowest ring in the city. His destination was a tea shop that had been rumored to have the finest tea in all of Ba Sing Se. While the lower ring was not off limits to them, Sokka hated the idea of the Dai Li watching his every movement, and had decided to venture out with his long cloak and hood up.

The tea shop was not what Sokka expected, in fact, if he hadn’t seen a pair of finely clothed business men entering the dark, shabby, shop, he might have missed it all together. He walked in behind them, finding the only open seat he could in the middle of the shop and sat down. The room was small, with only six tables all tightly squeezed together.
“Li,” called an older voice. Sokka turned his head to see a man behind the counter, his back to him, calling to someone in the kitchen. “We’ve got another customer.”
“Coming,” called a voice, muffled behind the wall.
Not wanting to be rude, Sokka quickly picked up the small hand written menu to get his order ready. The Jasmine tea was rumored to be most popular at this location, but such stronger green teas always left his mouth dry from the bitterness. The barley sweet was looking more appetizing, as it seemed to be brewed with honey and--
“What can I get you?” asked a surly but strikingly familiar voice.
Sokka’s head whipped up to look at his server, his gaze immediately latching on to the burn that marred the right side of their face.
He was dreaming, he thought, staring up at him in unabashed shock. He had to be, but by the way Zuko was also staring at him, he knew the prince to be in as much shock as he was.
“I...uhh...I gotta go--!” said Sokka, launching out of his seat, toppling it clumsily, and running head-long out the door. He ran a block or so, unsure if Zuko was following him until he turned back. He, in fact, wasn’t. That was strange. Too strange. His mind spun with questions the entire way back.

He returned to their apartment in the upper ring, and upon entering, leaned against the door, still shocked.
“What’s up with you?” asked Toph, lounging in the living room.
Toph Beifong was the newest addition to team Avatar, and Aang’s Earthbending teacher. For being blind, the girl was vastly perceptive, and not just for her seismic location she used to see the world around her. Currently, she was lounging with her back against a large cushion, flicking away her toe pickings.
“...Not much,” said Sokka, shaking his head stunned.
“Umm, you know I can tell you’re lying, right?” she asked.
“Huh?”
“I can feel your heartbeat. The reverberations of it, anyway. It’s wild right now. Is it something important?”
“No,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Nothing threatening. Just...bizarre.”
He pondered over whether he should say anything to them. The whole event had been so bizarre, and he still wasn’t one hundred percent that it was Zuko. What was he thinking of course it was, but the fact it was him made the entire situation that much more insane.
“Is everything alright?” asked Katara, entering the common space.
“Sokka’s spooked,” shrugged Toph casually.
“No, I’m not,” he said back.
“I can tell you’re lying~” teased Toph in a sing-song voice.
“Okay I am, but Ba Sing Se is very strange and not what I expected…”
“You can say that again,” sighed Katarra.
“Where’s Aang?” asked Sokka.
“On the roof, I think he just needs space right now. Waiting around like this isn’t doing his nerves any good.”
“Tell me about it,” muttered Toph.
“Did you find the tea place?” asked Katara. Sokka’s eyes flicked nervously between her and Toph. What should he say? It would be smart to tell his team about the obvious and possible threat of Zuko and Iroh’s presence here. And yet he had so many questions.
“Yup,” he said, and started walking towards his room.
“Any good?” she called after him.
“Couldn’t tell ya. I’ll try again tomorrow,” was all he said, before he walked to his room.

He went back the next day. He hadn’t told the rest of the Gaang, and he wasn’t sure how to even broach the subject with so many questions hanging over him. There was still the lingering bitterness of guilt, though he admitted this wasn't’ shame of Zuko, but shame that he’d never spoken up earlier about it. He reasoned that there wasn't’ time for it, there hadn't’ been in the past, and there wasn’t now.
As he retraised his path to the tea shop, he could not help but try to reflect on what he was feeling. A strange part of him was happy-- okay, maybe that was pushing it. Not happy, per say, he mulled over, just, relieved. Yes, he nodded to himself, relieved. After all, the last time he’d seen Zuko was the day he’d also met, and fought, his sister. A poor first introduction, but from what he’d been told about her, a genuine one. So, after such a rough departure, with Zuko’s uncle horribly wounded, to see him again now and in such a strange but peaceful setting was...well it was curious.
This couldn’t have been some strange elaborate plan to capture the Avatar, was it? Who was he kidding, of course it was. Well, he’d play the game, he thought. If Zuko hadn’t chased him, then that meant he was either hoping Sokka would return with Aang and spring some trap, or he hadn’t planned on ruining his own cover just yet. If that were the case, then perhaps Sokka could interrogate him under this tea-serving guise he was in.

Sokka walked into the tea shop again. The older man behind the counter was Zuko’s Uncle, Iroh. So, he was working here too, and curiously enough the old man looked rather happy. He remembered his act against Zhao at the North; who was this man really, and whose side was he on? He remained an enigma, but one that had never raised a finger against the Avatar or their team. That didn’t necessarily mean he was a good guy, so he kept his suspicion of the man up.
Iroh raised his gaze upon Sokka’s entrance. They stared at one another a moment, a quiet acknowledgement passing between them. It almost felt like a standoff, until Iroh smiled.
“Welcome,” he greeted.
Sokka quietly moved to take a seat. It wasn’t until he was sat down, and holding a menu did Iroh turn back to call into the kitchen.
“Customer,” he called, supposedly to Zuko.
Sure enough, Zuko entered the dining room a few moments later, a tray of tea in his hands, and upon seeing Sokka, froze. His shock burned away and he gave Sokka a cold stare. He walked closer to his table, glaring down at him.
“I’ll be with you in a moment, sir,” he said, the last part having an irritated bite to it. Sokka said nothing and watched instead go to another table and lay down their tea and snacks. It was a bizarre sight to see the fierce prince of the Fire Nation lay their tea down gently, and give a small bow when he was finished. Quickly, he tucked the tray underneath his arm and walked back over to Sokka glaring down at him.
“What are you doing here?” he whispered, harshly.
Sokka’s eyebrow quirked in response.
“Me? What are you doing here? Serving tea?”
“Keep your voice down,” he continued, whispering, “If you don’t want tea, then you have no business being here.”
“Hey, who said I didn’t want tea. I’ll take a…” his eyes quickly scanned the menu, “a pot of the barley sweet please, with milk and sugar.”
“The barley sweet doesn’t come with milk and sugar.”
“Man, you’re a terrible server,” smiled Sokka rakishly, “haven’t you ever heard the phrase the customer’s always right?”
For whatever reason, Zuko was exercising restraint instead of lashing out, or even arguing in response. This intrigued him to no end. Zuko turned and walked away from Sokka without another word. Strange, thought Sokka, hearing him only tightly convey the order to his uncle before ducking back into the kitchen. Something was keeping Zuko in his place. An impish grin spread wide across Sokka’s face, he was determined to find out why.
A few minutes went by until Zuko appeared again, holding a pot of tea and a tray of milk, sugar, and a single cup. He set Sokka’s things down, aggressive enough to cause the clay sugar and milk cups to clatter from impact.
“So...how long you been working here?” Sokka asked, unable to hide the humor and teasing from his voice.
Zuko didn’t answer him and merely set his cup down and turned away.
“Um, excuse me,” said Sokka, stopping Zuko. The prince’s shoulder’s went stiff, but with a deep inhale, he turned back.
“Yes?” he asked, clearly irritated.
“Mind pouring this for me? I hurt my wrist earlier and this pot is soooo heavy.”
Sokka wondered if the firebender’s glare alone could set him on fire. Sokka did not spontaneously combust, however, and Zuko did, in fact, pour Sokka’s tea for him.
“So, what’s your name?”
“Li,” Zuko replied, tightly.
“Li? Nice name. Did your Uncle give it to you?”
“No,” he said, and set the pot back down. He again turned and walked away.
“Er, one more thing.”
This time Zuko could not control himself and made an irritated growl-like sound as he turned on him.
“What?!”
“I...don’t have a spoon. You know, to stir the tea.”
“...Right...let me...get that for you…” he said, and headed back into the kitchen.

Zuko left back to the kitchen and returned quickly, all but slamming the spoon on the table. He stared at Sokka, as if daring him to say anything more.
“...so, when’s your next break?”
“Never,” he said, before turning away.

Sokka had killed off the pot of tea quickly, hoping to get a chance to speak with Zuko again. He ended up waving him down, and he obliged, begrudgingly.
“What?” he asked, his tone low.
“Look man, I could order another pot of tea and sit in the shop all day, seriously, I’ve got nothing better to do. Or you could take a ten and tell me what’s going on?”
“...” Zuko let out an aggravated grunt, but gave a quick nod.
“Meet me in the alley in the back. Just get out of here,” he said, and took Sokka’s empty pot away.
The Water Tribe boy paid his dues and headed quickly out of the shop. The alley was just around the corner, and opened up to a small empty lot. Made of stone, the area was walled up and fenced off from the smaller apartments around. The apartments themselves were boarded up, seemingly abandoned. He wondered if this was perhaps where he’d be ambushed, and felt himself on the alert until he heard Zuko from behind him.
“Okay, I’m going to ask you one more time; what are you doing here?” asked the prince.
“Man, I should be asking you that. What are you up to, Zuko?”
“Nothing,” he all but growled, “except serving tea to rude business men and jerks like you.”
“Oh, so I’m just supposed to believe you’re good now?”
“I don’t care what you believe,” he retorted, his voice raised almost to a yell. He seemed to regret it the next moment, carefully peering around them in an attempt to spot eavesdroppers. “Things have changed, anyway.”
“I’ll say. What’s got you so spooked?”
“Use your head, Sokka. I’m using an alias, I’m working in a tea shop, my top knot is gone. Put it together, yet?”
Sokka had been too busy at the bewilderment of seeing Zuko again that the absence of Zuko’s normal drawn back hair escaped him. Yet, he knew this to be an important symbol to royals, he knew this because Zuko had told him as much when they were kids.
“You’re...a fugitive?” said Sokka, evenly. “But why? What changed?”
“The Fire Nation’s disgraceful loss at the North. My Uncle and I were labeled traitors of the Nation, despite the fact that Zhao tried to have me killed, and my Uncle was doing the world a favor by trying to preserve the moon.”
“What? But everyone needs the moon.”
“When my Uncle went against Zhao, they labeled him a traitor, and I as his accomplice. That’s why Azula was there. We figured it out in time, but she was lying to get me back home, all so she could throw me in a cell.”
“...so that’s what happened,” breathed Sokka, astonished.
A shared silence passed between them as Sokka looked to Zuko in a way that made the prince uncomfortable. Zuko could see pity in the other’s eyes. He merely frowned back at him, waiting for him to laugh or gloat maybe.
“So now the Fire Nation is after you both as well?” was all Sokka said.
The other nodded curtly.
“Huh.”
“What?” Zuko snapped.
“Nothing, ’s just kinda...funny, is all.”
“Funny?!” he snapped “You have no idea how hard this has been for me,” started Zuko, advancing on him angrily, but Sokka didn’t back down, merely folding his arms. He got right in his face as he angrily spoke. “I’ve had to sleep on the ground. I had to scrounge, beg, and steal my food. And I could never stay in one place for too long or my crazy sister would catch up to me, and do who knows what before throwing me in prison.”
Sokka stared back at him flatly, his hands up in front of Zuko in mock surrender.
“Oh, wow, how completely unlike what you were doing to us,” his tone was drenched in sarcasm. “You’re right, how could I possibly relate?”
Zuko paused at this, shocked. It occurred to Sokka that what Zuko had said was in earnest, and the realization of those parallels seemed to cause his brain to freeze all together. Unwilling, or maybe unable, to face him and accept this truth, he turned completely around and powerfully punched the bamboo wall next to them.
Neither had seen the wash bucket resting precariously atop the wall until it came crashing down on Zuko’s head and drenched him fully.
Sokka could not contain himself and burst out laughing, even before he meant to. Furiously, Zuko tore the bucket off his head and tossed it at the opposite wall, turning a spiteful gaze on Sokka, who was trying to settle his laughing fit.
“Okay--” breathed Sokka, wiping away a tear, “you have to admit, you kinda deserved that one.”
To his surprise Zuko didn’t argue. His angry glare shifted to the ground, turning sower as he leaned against the wall and slid down it to hug his knees to his chest.
Sokka had calmed his laughter by this point, and after a long breath out, stepped over to Zuko and sat with him, avoiding the wet puddle from the fallen bucket.
“Look,” he said, turning to Zuko, his posture relaxed, “I know this sucks for you, but maybe this is a good thing.”
“What about any of this could be good?”
“Well, think about it, you’re not with the Fire Nation anymore, right?”
Zuko didn’t answer, pouting, waiting for him to continue.
“Then maybe we don't have to be enemies anymore, maybe now we can just be...people?” he shrugged.
Zuko didn’t answer him right away, instead turning his gaze back to the ground.
“I’m tired of fighting you. Aren’t you tired of fighting me?”
He remanded quiet.
“Look just think about it, okay?” he asked, standing up. “I’ll come back later, maybe tomorrow? And if you want, we can start fresh.”
Zuko’s silence was not uncharacteristic of his bad moods, but despite this Sokka never grew use to them.
“Cool, so...see you around?”
No answer.
Sokka turned to leave.
“What is the Avatar doing here?” came Zuko’s voice.
Sokka’s shoulders slumped. Of course. He let out a breath and turned back.
“The Avatar...isn’t here,” he lied.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Believe what you want,” shrugged Sokka. While calm on the outside, he was frantic on the inside, constructing some alternate reality in his mind. “The Avatar left because the King of Ba Sing Se won’t see anyone without an appointment, so he’s off helping other people while the request is being processed.”
“Oh yeah? Then why are you here?”
“Obviously, they left me behind to “wait in line”.”
Zuko’s gaze turned back ahead of him. Sokka licked his lower lip, hoping that had been enough to dissuade him. He walked back over to him, and knelt down.
“Look, Zu, all I’m asking is that you think about it. I’ll come back tomorrow, alright?”
Zuko didn’t answer, but Sokka didn’t think he could get anything more out of him. So he stood and left, lifting the hood of his cloak over his head as he exited.

The next day rolled around, and Sokka showed up promptly at noon. He sat himself at a table by the counter, feigning casual but interested to see how Zuko would receive him today. To his disappointment, it was not Zuko who walked over to his table. Iroh, the former general himself, dressed in humble Earth Kingdom robes, walked over to him with a pot of tea and a cup already for him.
“Good day,” Iroh greeted, not quite looking at him, despite his kind smile. Instead, he set to pouring the tea into Sokka’s cup.
“Er...hi,” said Sokka, suspicious of the kind gesture.
“If I’m not mistaken, you’re the young man my nephew was speaking to yesterday, yes?”
“Er, yeah, that’s me. My name’s--”
“Sokka,” he finished with a polite nod. “It is nice to meet you. My nephew has told me so much about you.”
Sokka blinked at this, shocked.
“Zu--”
“Li,” he urged, gently.
“...Li talked about me?”
“Oh yes,” he smiled and withdrew his hands, one hiding away in his sleeve while the other gently tugged at his own beard. “He once told me about you when you both were still quite young.”
It wasn't so odd that Zuko would tell someone about his strange dreams, after all, that’s what Sokka had done when he was young. And yet, it was alien to think Zuko, normally so walled off, would have told anyone about their friendship.
“He’s told me a bit about you too,” Sokka nodded. “And erm...thanks for never, you know, bending at us. And for...for back then. In the North.”
Iroh gave a swift nod.
“I am sorry for your loss,” he said, his voice quiet.
“Thanks,” Sokka nodded back, “It’s easier the more time passes.”

It was then that Zuko walked into the dining room, a tray in hand with a steaming pot of tea. He immediately saw Sokka and his Uncle talking, and turned away, yet before he did, Sokka could almost swear the former fire prince’s cheeks had gone a bit pink. He quickly set the order and down hurried over to Sokka’s table.
“Uncle,” started Zuko, but the man interrupted him with a kind tone.
“You know Li, you work very hard, and it is a beautiful day. Why not take the rest of the day off.”
“I--but--” he replied, and Sokka had to strongly contain his laughter. Seeing someone usually so brooding become fluster was almost sweet. “Th-the shop, and the manager, he--”
“I will cover for you. Go, shoo,” he said, gently taking the tray from him. “Oh, and take your friend as well. Day’s as nice as this should be shared, don’t you think?”
“I--” but before he had any room to argue, Iroh turned and walked away, back into the kitchen. Zuko turned back to Sokka, who was visibly trying to hide his laughter. He narrowed his eyes. He turned, groaning, “Come on,” and started walking away without waiting for him. Sokka followed quickly behind.

The two found themselves walking down the street, and despite the din of the people living their life around them, things were quiet.
“So, started Sokka, smugly, “know any good places around here?”
“I haven’t explored much,” he answered bitterly, “Being in hiding, and all.”
“Well, great! Then we can find new places together.”
Zuko only frowned at this.
“Lighten up,” smiled Sokka, “tell me honestly, when’s the last time you had any fun?”
He looked away.
“Exactly! Come on, we can do my favorite thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Shopping!” he said, and began dragging a groaning Zuko to the market district.

The market was busy, crowded and loud, with many vendors of different sorts all calling out above the din of the crowd to grab people’s attention.
“Shopping?” asked Zuko, looking about. “You actually like being in all this noise?”
“I admit, the noise isn’t great, but look at this stuff!” he smiled, throwing a hand to a stall with many different bags for sale. “Or how ‘bout that?” he asked, pointing over to a different stand with many different small pieces of armor. He wandered closer, a tin of armor polish catching his eye. He picked it up and showed it off to Zuko. “I don’t even have armor but I know I could use this somehow.”
Zuko frowned, disinterested as Sokka looked about. It was odd to find that he now knew two people who loved shopping so much.
“Take a look at this,” Sokka said, pulling Zuko’s attention back to him. He turned and saw that Sokka was trying to fit some large gauntlet around his arm. His eyebrows raised in response, surprised and curious. “Oh man, we don’t have any of this stuff back at the South Pole. Help me fasten this,” he said, offering his arm and the leather strap. Without replying Zuko reached out and carefully, but quickly, set the metal piece into the notch of the leather strap, and neatly tucked it away. He mused in that moment how strange it was for him, a prince, to help someone else with their armor. It was a strange kindness he’d never performed before, but had always been accustomed to benefiting from. He let his arms fold back up as he looked to Sokka in the armor. He snorted.
“Looks heavy,” he said.
“It is…” Sokka frowned, uncomfortable. He rotated his arm, with some difficulty.
“Hey,” called the stall clerk, clearly irritated, “you gonna buy that?”
“Naw I’ll pass on this one,” said Sokka, beginning to take it off. “You got anything lighter?”
“My military grade stock isn’t meant for noodle-armed teenagers,” he huffed. “Go on, get your greasy mitts off of them and scoot off.”
“I’d watch your tone, if I were you,” said Zuko, darkly.
“Hey, easy, it’s all good,” said Sokka, now struggling with the last strap.
“Me? I’d say a little brat like you needs an attitude check,” the clerk sneered.
Zuko took a bold step forward, but Sokka threw out his in impaired hand.
“Woah-ho, woah, hold on. We don’t want any trouble,” he tentatively removed his hand from in front of Zuko, who quietly quelled his rage for the moment, yet still glared at the shop keeper. “Let me just...undo this one...strap and--” with a loud “snap” the leather strap broke off, and the armor fell to the ground. Reduced now to disheveled pieces, it was obvious that most of it was held together by some bizarre assortment of glue and thin wires, certainly not military grade by any stretch of the imagination.
“This is what you were trying to pawn off to people? More like military-grade garbage.” Zuko huffed with a laugh.
“Why you-- thieves! Dirty little thieves, wrecking my shop! Officers!” He shouted at once, drawing the gaze of everyone nearby.
“What?! We’re not--!” started Sokka, but his hand was quickly grabbed and he was pulled away front he stand, running fast into the crowd as Earth Kingdom officers started chasing after them, biding them to halt and give themselves over. It took him a moment to realize it was Zuko’s hand that was clasped so firmly over his, strongly leading him through the winding crowds and ducking into tight alley ways. He gripped it back and hurried behind him, allowing himself to be led.
They’d wound into the shade of an alleyway, and ducked behind a large wooden crate. Zuko seized it’s covering; a musty, scratchy linen that he threw over them quickly. They heard the sounds of the officer’s footsteps pass by, and fade with distance. When the noise died down, and then everything seemed to return to normal, only then did Zuko allow them to uncover and stand up. He peered out of the alley, before nodding back to Sokka.
“We’re clear.”
“That was impressive,” Sokka smiled at him as they exited the alley.
“What do you mean?”
“The way you threw them off our trail like that. You just instantly knew what to do, and you didn’t even bend or anything.”
“Of course not, I wouldn’t reveal myself over nothing.”
“I guess not, but still. Very slick,” he said, elbowing Zuko gently in the ribs.
Zuko allowed this, but looked away. He didn’t smile, but he wasn’t scowling, so Sokka took it as “compliment received”. They went quiet suddenly, as if having run out of things to say. Something hung in the air between them, but he could not say what, exactly.
“Hey, I don’t know about you,” started Sokka, walking backward but ahead of him, “but running from the law is hungry work. Food?”
“We could head back to the shop.”
“No, man, come on. This is about exploring and having fun, right?” Sokka looked about without waiting for an answer. His eyes landed on a sign that stood outside of a shop. Written in chalk, the sign read the specials. “Hey, this place has all-day dim sum!”
Zuko seemed hesitant, looking into the crowded restaurant. Sokka followed his gaze.
“Huh, must be why they’re so popular,” he said.
“Not here.” said Zuko, already walking away. Zuko braced himself for the barrage of questions that he was sure would follow, but to his surprise, Sokka didn’t ask, and merely followed him. Down the street was a small noodle place, not too crowded, and with a dumpling special. Though still nervous, Zuko allowed Sokka to take the lead. They found a table and sat, waiting for one of the workers to notice them.
“I’m pretty sure I could eat two bowls,” smiled Sokka in some attempt to drum up conversation. Zuko merely gave a nod and a noise in agreement. He seemed uncomfortable, and to be honest, so was Sokka. To be sitting in a restaurant across from him now, after so much time spent apart, it all seemed very sudden. Everything had happened so fast that day, that only now in the pause did he think it strange for Zuko to not be attacking him now. Tea had been set before them before Sokka could move to speak, though he didn’t know what to say. Their order was swiftly taken, and they were abruptly returned to their pensive quiet.
Without anything to distract them, the weight of their meeting again began to fall on their conscience. So much time had passed, neither knowing if the other was alright. For Sokka’s part, he wondered where to begin.
For Zuko, he was frozen, unable to gauge exactly who or what they were to each other at the moment. The whole day had felt like an odd dream, almost as surreal as the spirit world he’d nearly been lost to. To have been with Sokka in person for even this long was not something he’d considered a possibility since their last fight. He’d tried so hard to reach him in the spirit world, now he could feel himself shrinking away, unsure, as if awaiting some judgment.
This was never going to be easy, Sokka thought to himself. There was too much history, too much had passed between them. Still, he cleared his throat, forcing himself to try.
“So...how have you been?” he started, idly rolling a chopstick that was set atop a napkin. Zuko gave him an odd look, narrowing his eyes in confusion.
“Not...great?” the other responded.
“So...your Uncle looks better.”
“He is.”
“I’m glad,” he nodded, sincerely. He’d held Zuko’s gaze but looked away. “I’m sorry I...I didn’t contact you sooner. I cannot control Iwei, and I can’t call them.”
“It’s fine.”
The short answer gave way to silence once more. Moments passed, frantically for Sokka who tried to think of something, anything to say to stop the strange feeling that passed between them.
“You were in danger not long ago,” started Zuko. “Is that over now?”
Sokka cocked his head to the side in question.
“Weeks ago. I saw you, I think. You were with Iwei, and there was a large monster.”
“Ah...yeah. I’ve taken care of that. I’m okay.”
“What was it?” he asked.
Whoo, thought Sokka, now there’s an explanation. He shook his head, giving a short laugh.
“The short answer is, just messed up Spirit-stuff, but nothing that’s a problem any more. Let’s call it an inner conflict.”
“So, you weren’t trying to reach me then?” he wondered, almost as if to himself, as if confirming something sad.
“Oh no, I was trying to get to you,” he said with a humored huff, drawing Zuko’s gaze back to him. “I was just...stopping myself, I guess you could say. That thing you saw was me-- in some weird way,” he shook his head at the last part. Even if by now he was deeply involved in the spirit world, he remained in denial of its necessity and effect on him.
“You?”
“Yeah, call it my guilt or whatever.”
Whatever Sokka said, it seemed it was making Zuko more quiet, more walled off, until his gaze had completely shifted from him and to the table, not moving.
“You okay?” Sokka asked.
“Yes. I understand your guilt.”
“You do?” that was an odd thing to say, Sokka thought. The other nodded.
“We are...a poor tether for each other.”
Sokka’s eyebrows raised at this, caught off guard by what Zuko had said.
“What makes you say that?”
Zuko finally turned his gaze to him, as if it were Sokka who’d caught him off guard.
“Our history, the war, everything that’s happened because of it. The beach…” he all but mumbled the last part.
Sokka’s brow furrowed, and he pulled a tight-lip frown.
“I don’t understand. Do you not want to see me?”
The other faltered, looking away as if searching in his mind what to say. Sokka let out a breath of agitation, which the other seemed to receive by walling their emotions up once more, putting on a face of neutrality.
“I wish you would just tell me what you want,” said Sokka. He expected Zuko’s silence, but it hurt him all the same. Well, it wasn’t as if he were doing a fine job either. They were dancing, as they always did, around the things that made them uncomfortable, ashamed. They’d do this dance until they fell apart, collapsing in cycles around one another, before picking themselves up to chase each other again, for one reason or another. He had grown tired of this dance. “Erm, look, there’s something that’s been kinda eating at me a while, and...and I figure I should be honest with you.”
Zuko seemed to be roused from his own thoughts, but remained quiet, watching him carefully.
“I’m sorry, for what I said on the beach.”
“Huh?”
“Yeah, it was messed up and I really shouldn't have pushed you,” he said quietly, running a hand over his head before it rested on his neck. “I said it because I was scared-- but it was still waaay outta line. I’ve had a lot of time to think about, mostly because I was holding myself back from seeing you-- like I said earlier-- but I’ve been wanting to apologize for that for a while. So. Sorry.”
Zuko was staring at him wide-eyed, like he’d grown a third head.
“...Li?”
“You? Apologise?”
“Hey man, I’m trying here.”
“No, that’s not-- I mean...I…” he huffed, as if overwhelmed by the torrent of emotions that he was trying to push down. “You don’t have any reason to apologize,” he said.
“Um, I kinda fought a monster in my head to get over my guilt and tell you this, so I think maybe I do?
“I...bended at you,” he said with quiet urgency.
Ah, thought Sokka, was that what Zuko was so morose over? His harmless bending within the dream-space. Sokka shook his head and shrugged.
“In that place? It wouldn't have hurt--”
“But I meant it to,” he insisted, then looked down, ashamed and taking in deep breaths. “I wasn’t thinking, but that’s no excuse. And then, when Azula attacked my uncle, I did it again.”
“You didn’t mean it.”
“Yes, I did.”
“You meant to fend us off,” Sokka insisted. “And you wouldn’t have needed to bend at me on the beach if I hadn’t--”
“Stop making excuses for me,” he said his fist pounding against the table, drawing a few eyes their way. He quickly withdrew his hand, gripping it in the other regretfully. The normal quiet din returned to the room before he continued. “I did what I did on the beach that night, and I carried that regret with me for weeks. I was mad, too stupid to see through my sister’s lies, and ignorant of your warnings, but that’s no excuse.” he let out a bitter huff of laughter, “and look what it got me...”
Sokka studied his guilty scowl as he waited for him to continue, but it seemed he was stuck in his storm of negative thoughts. So he folded his arms and leaned forward on the table.
“Hey,” he said gently, “look around.”
Zuko lifted his gaze and quickly obeyed, on the alert as if there was danger. When he detected nothing, he returned his gaze to Sokka, who was smiling kindly at him.
“It got you here, with me.”

Zuko’s heart felt as though it had launched itself to his throat before flipping back down in place. He turned his gaze to the table, trying to quell the strange and sudden feeling of heat rushing to his cheeks.
“Is it fair to say we both made a mistake?” asked Sokka. “I said something that hurt you, you retaliated and tried to hurt me back. Arguments...they happen, you know? Maybe we needed a stronger foundation, a better friendship. This can be our chance,” he cracked a smile, “we’re in Ba Sing Se, together. When have we ever been in one place together without going at each other?”
Zuko was speechless, taking in everything the other said with quiet shock as he processed his words.
“So, let’s give it a shot, what do you say?”
Sokka’s smile was so bright, his words so hopeful, that Zuko found himself caught in it. He nodded, without thinking, but then took hold of the gesture and nodded more firmly. That seemed to be enough for Sokka, who sat back, pleased.
Their silence was broken with the arrival of their order. They ate, noticing the air between them was a little more relaxed.

Chapter Text

It was evening now, the two of them walking down the street, watching as dusk faded from fiery orange and pinks to softer purples and darker blues. They’d turned their conversations to lighter subjects. A flyer in the restaurant they’d been in had advertised a play that had already passed. This struck a conversation between the two about their favorite works that had followed them out onto the street.
“To be fair,” started Sokka, raising his hands in defense, as they walked casually along. “We didn’t exactly have a library out in the south, so I don’t really know that many plays. I gotta say though, I’m a huge fan of poetry.”
“Really? I didn’t think you had the patience for it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Sokka.
“I’ve never seen you sit still.”
“I don’t when you’re around,” he laughed, but went silent. Both made their own assumptions about what that exactly meant, but neither spoke up. For Zuko’s part, he turned it negatively inwardly, as he was in a habit of doing. As for Sokka, he’d thought about how he was constantly running either away from or to Zuko. The thought made him tired, so he injected his voice into the silence. “But, maybe one day we could read something together?”
“I...wouldn’t mind that.”
“You’ve got time, right?” he asked.
“Lots of it, now,” he grumbled.

Sokka’s eyes turned to the sky, and he wondered as it got darker if they could be able to see stars in such a place. Then it struck him. It was night, way past when he said he’d be back to their temporary housing.
“Ah, shoot, I should really get back,” said Sokka, suddenly hurrying.
“Right, me too. I don’t want my Uncle to worry.”
“I’d walk you back but they close the gates to the upper circles around these times. Can you find your back from here?”
“Of course,” the other nodded.
“Great. Hey, I had a really nice time today. Would it be alright if I saw you tomorrow as well?”
Zuko’s expression widened to quiet surprise.
“Really?”
“Did you not have fun?”
“I did.”
“Then?”
“I...guess. I don’t think you need my permission to visit a tea shop.”
Sokka merely smiled at him and shook his head.
“Well, great. Then I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, and with that, the two gave a small wave as they parted ways.

Sokka walked back into the Gaang’s apartment and quietly peered around. The room was clear. He sighed, and leaned against the door. That had gone so much better than he’d ever expected. He felt a strange flutter in his chest, had felt it since he’d walked home, and it remained caught in his chest like a small bird. Surely this was excitement, like a dream come true, like the old days-- sort of. Zuko certainly smiled less, and there was a history that hung between them, but it wasn't so unapproachable. This could work, he thought, his mind already turning the gears, planning the next step.
Zuko was his tether, this fact was undeniable. Therefore, Sokka was going to have to tell his friends sooner or later.
His mind tumbled over thinking just how on earth he was going to re-introduce the former prince to the group. He didn’t plan on just leaving Zuko behind, so long as Zuko showed that he wanted to change. It was too early to say, but perhaps he’d make an offer. Of course this meant he’d have to eventually tell Zuko the truth, that the Avatar was in fact here in the city, and that he’d lied-- but for good reason. And he was sure that, given enough explanation Zuko would understand. And his friends would understand why he’d been lying the whole time to them about him and Zuko, why he had to hide it and…
The excitement that had wound up in his chest had quickly turned to anxiety and dread. He held his head. What was he doing?
“Hey, yout he new door guard or what?” asked Toph, walking into the main room.
“Huh?”
“You’ve just been standing there. Where've you been all day?”
“Is Sokka back?” asked his sister’s voice from the hall. She gently slid past Toph and looked to him, Aang following behind her. “Where’ve you been?” she asked. She had a right to be worried, Sokka had left that morning and was now only just back after sun down.
“I...went shopping,” said Sokka, smiling as he shrugged.
“Sokka, seriously?” asked Katara.
“We were starting to get really worried about you,” Aang chimed in. “With this place crawling with Dai Li agents, we need to be careful.”
“No, yeah, of course,” he said. “And I was. I was scouting out the lower ring for anything that could help us.”
Aang’s eyes brightened slightly, hopeful.
“Did you find out anything about Appa?” he asked.
Sokka’s heart sank.
“No,” he responded. “There was no sign of him down there.”
Aang’s foul mood returned and he walked away, possibly back to his room. They head a door shut and reflected quietly to themselves.
Appa had been missing for weeks now, and Aang hadn’t been the same since his disappearance.
“Well, if you’re going to be out for long like that, just let us know, next time,” said Katara, turning and heading back to her own room.
“Yeah, you got it,” he nodded after her. He moved from the door and started heading more inside, when he noticed Toph fold her arms. “What?” he asked, feeling his heart flip in his chest.
“Why’s your heart-beat all crazy?”
“Probably because you’re way intimidating standing there like that?” he said.
She snorted.
“Yeah, that must be it,” she hummed happily, and retreated further inside.
He watched her go, realizing he’d have to be especially careful around her. That just made things much more complicated.

--

By now, Sokka had been out of the apartment almost everyday that week, and spending most to all his time in that tea shop. On this particular hay, he had decided to leave before their lunch was delivered. Many of their meals were delivered, it was a part of the Dai Li handling them and keeping them under their thumb while the team secretly looked for Appa and tried to conspire an audience with the king. They were basically glorified prisoners, though this was a fact easily forgotten when his mind was turned so much toward Zuko and the shop. He pushed it out of his mind as he made his way to the front door.
He was surprised to find his sister already there.
“Hey,” she said, greeting him as she pushed off from the door she’d been leaning on.
“Hey?” he said, confused. “Erm, well, I’m headed out again.”
“I was gonna head there with you, actually,” she said. “Last night was a long night, and I could use some tea.”
He froze, panic rising in his chest.
“Why don’t you just have the tea they gave us here?” he asked, trying to control the crack in his voice.
“Why don’t you?” she asked, pulling a look of suspicion.
“I…” he faltered.
“What’s with you?” she laughed. “You’re seriously red right now?”
“I told you,” said a voice from the hall. Toph emerged, a smile on her face with her arms folded. “His heart goes wonky every time we mention it.”
Katara playfully put her hands on her hips.
“So, why are you really headed to that shop?”
“I bet there’s a waitress there he likes,” Toph teased.
“You--both are so immature!” he said, failing to keep his voice under control. “For your information, I’m out scouting and looking for any information we can get on Appa or the Dai Li.”
“The fact that you try to lie to me,” started Toph smugly, “is both cute but kinda pathetic.”
“Seriously Sokka,” Katara chuckled. “Out with it. You’re never here, you spend all day at that place. What’s up?”
“I do more than just drink tea. It’s a scouting mission,” he insisted.
“Sure, sure, keep telling yourself that,” said Toph.
“No, seriously,” he said, “I’ve been speaking with a contact. I’ve been trying to sus out whether we can trust him or not though.”
“Then why do you get so flustered about it?” asked Katara.
“It’s a crush,” said Toph, shaking her head. “One-hundred percent a crush.”
“It’s not a crush!” he argued, but the voice cracked and the way his cheeks turned hot did nothing to help convince them.
“Whatever you say. Have fun on your date or whatever,” said Toph, walking to the door. “Come on Katara,”
“Toph and I are heading out for a girls day,” Katara said.
“Where’s Aang?” asked Sokka.
“Hey left earlier,” shrugged Toph, “pretty easy to guess what he’s doing.”
“Trying to find Appa,” Sokka finished with a nod. “Yeah…”
“Try to be home before dark,” said Katara.
Sokka pulled a face and rolled his eyes at her.
“You’re the boss,” he sighed, and headed out before them.

Once down the street he finally let himself relax. That had been too close. Perhaps he needed to cool it after this next visit. He could not deny the importance of finding Appa, and was surprised at how caught up he’d been with Zuko. He held his head as he felt the thin border between these two realities grow thinner. He shook his head, promising he’d think about it later.

He’d made his way tot he third ring, and entered into the small shop. He walked to an empty table and waited for Zuko to appear. Their visit had become routine, he would order a pot of the barley tea, with milk and sugar, and Zuko would argue that the barely sweet did not come with cream and sugar. But every time, when his order was brought out, he would lay them out on the table for him all the same. He’d linger at Sokka’s table a few seconds longer than the others, and they’d pick up on the formalities. How their day was, if it was good, what they did, or if there was anything interesting that occurred. For Sokka’s part, he felt uncomfortable by the last few questions. There was a lot that was happening, from Appa’s disappearance, to the Dai Li being the ones truly in control of Ba Sing Se, and of course, the Solar Eclipse that was fast approaching, which he could share none of this information.
On this particular day, the routine changed. Sokka had gone through the pot of tea rather fast, his mind still turning over everything he’d worked late into the night on.
“You look exhausted,” said Zuko, coming over to Sokka’s table to gather his empty pot.
“Who? Me?” he quickly deflected, reaching for his empty tea cup, “no, I’m fine. Fit as a suzuhorn,” he waved off, taking a sip of an empty cup. Startled a moment with confusion, he then cleared his throat and set the cup on Zuko’s offered tray. The other quirked an eyebrow in response, waiting for a real answer. “I...might have had a late night.”
“I see. I’ll be right back,” and he turned and walked away without another word.
Sokka stretched, feeling the ache in his muscles and back. He’d been hunched over as a small table last night, going over and assessing the plans for the invasion. If and when they saw the king, he wanted a water-tight presentation, one that would imbue the King’s confidence in his strategy and allow him the justification to deploy troops to aid them.
His blue eyes slid over to watch back of the shop where the kitchen lay. This strategy could win them the war, it was the only day in which firebenders could not access their firebending. They’d be invading Zuko’s home.
He in no way felt guilty at the idea of doing so, the Fire Lord needed to go down, and the war needed to end. There was no question there. But what would become of Zuko? And If the former prince were to join them, by some miracle, how would he take the plan?
He found himself feeling out of place in the shop. He was outside himself, like he were observing a piece on a board in a strategy game, trying to assess his next move. Suddenly, being here left a bitter stain on his mind, what with all the lies he’d been telling lately. He was torn, led by his heart despite his mind’s warnings of obvious danger.
Was he a traitor? Was this what traitors did?
Zuko’s return shook him out of his thoughts, and he was surprised to find him with a small steamed bun, wrapped in thin paper. He held two, one he offered to Sokka, and one that obviously was for him.
“I’m on break,” Zuko started suddenly, “wanna go with me?”
Sokka was surprised by Zuko’s offer, but took the food all the same. He followed Zuko out of the tea shop, and to the back, where they leaned against the wall. The warmth of the tea shop left him as he lay against the cool stone wall. The pork bun was fresh and steaming hot, with sour-sweet notes accompanied by the slightly salty pork and the delicious chives that would burst between his teeth with every bite. He’d forgotten how hungry he was until that moment, and scarfed it down. He remembered himself then, and wondering if Zuko had noticed, turned to see the former Prince struggling to keep his face neutral, but the slightest twinge of a smile in the corner of his mouth.
“Ah...I skipped breakfast today,” shrugged Sokka. Which was true. He’d slept on the little writing desk accidentally and woke up around noon.
“What have you been up to?” wondered Zuko.
“Avatar stuff-- in his place, I mean.”
This caused Zuko to go quiet, perhaps thoughtful, even. Zuko hadn’t even taken a bite of his bao yet.
“You alright?”
“Yeah...” he said, “I guess I’ve been tired too.”
“Yeah? How come?”
Zuko’s contemplative silence resumed. He didn’t answer, asking instead,
“When do you leave?”
The sudden change of subject surprised the other.
“Not sure.”
“...So it could be any time?”
“Well…” Sokka thought of Appa and frowned “Not quite...I’m not sure, but probably not in the near future.”
The former prince didn’t respond, looking away in thought. He took another bite, as if to end the conversation there. They went quiet, the two of them taking in the silence of the courtyard with nothing but the day’s ambiance of bird song and mutual street chatter to fill it. When the other finished, they continued to sit there, but Sokka wondered what the strange, almost awkward atmosphere about them was caused by.
“Do you ever think about being tethered?”
“What do you mean?”
“We’ve lived with being tethered almost all our lives now, but I’ve never really heard about what it’s like for other people.”
“Do they not talk about it in-- where you’re from?” he said, quickly catching himself.
“If they do, it wasn't talked about at home. I mean, what do we know about this? How does this go? What are we supposed to do?”
“I...don’t think we’re supposed to do anything.”
“But it’s fate, right?”
Sokka made a small noise of disgust and turned away.
“Sure, about as much fate as one big fuzzy Spirit can force on us.”
“...do you feel forced?”
The question caught Sokka off guard and he turned to him.
“No,” he said, hurriedly. “Do you?”
“No.”

Finished with their food, they decided to take a walk. Zuko informed Sokka it was per his Uncle’s insistence that he do so. It was not healthy for a young man to be inside working all day, or some excuse like that. So they took to walking, away from the market, toward the more residential spaces. In some parts, water ran through the streets in deep rivers. They walked aimlessly, croissant he bridges to look over the side at the fish and carp that swam by.
“Back home,” began Zuko, “our bridges are formed in zig-zag patterns so that ghosts and demons don't follow us when we cross it.”
“Why would they just follow you over a bridge?”
“They say water holds life to it, that the water can be a portal to the other side. Ghosts have a hard time navigating this word though, so a bridge that isn’t straight confuses them, and they turn back instead of following you completely over and haunting you.”
Sokka sniffed.
“You don’t really believe in ghosts do you?”
“I don’t know. Don’t you?”
“Not a chance,” he shrugged. “That’s all just stories and nonsense.”
“Says the guy who follows a giant wolf made of light in his dreams.”
“Hey, that’s real. It’s strange, but it’s real. I’ve never seen a ghost.”
“Therefore they’re not real?”
“Man, you know what I mean.”
“Just because you haven’t seen one doesn’t mean they’re not real.”
“Ulch, you sound like my sister,” he said, looking comically defeated.
“Well if Spirits are real, how can ghosts not be?”
“Look, Spirits are real, I concede, but everything else is bunk.”
“Even destiny?”
“Especially destiny,” he said, throwing his hands up. “I mean, what is so great about destiny? Why is everyone looking for it? Some guy in a funky hat or some old bird with silk robes and bones comes to you and just spouts whatever and I’m suppose to take that as truth? Ah, no thanks.”
Zuko could not help but crack a laugh at that. Sokka turned to the noise he had not heard in years, taking in the sight. It was short lived, and stifled quickly.
“Sorry, I find it odd that someone traveling with the Avatar could deny destiny and fate so easily. Especially one with a Spirit Teather.”
“Nothing funny about that, I just don’t like people telling me who I am and what’s ahead of me in life. I like to be in control of that.”
Zuko lowered his gaze to the ground, in thought.
“I had thought for so long that I knew what my destiny was. I was so sure. Now...now I just lay awake at night. I find the not knowing to be too much.”
“Why?”
“Why?!” he balked and turned to him, “Because-- am I even doing the right thing? Everyday, am I working towards something or wasting time? I don’t want my destiny to be tea. I don’t hate it, I just don’t...it doesn't feel…” he let out an agitated breath, drawing in another one as if to stifle his feelings again and looked up to the sky. “Tea is my Uncle’s dream.”
“What’s yours?”
“...I thought it was capturing the Avatar. Before that, I thought it was to rule my people. I have nothing now, no dream, no plan. I live everyday just trying to survive, and it’s wearing on me.”
They got to the midway point of the bridge when Zuko stopped. Sokka turned, watching Zuko’s gaze turn toward the dusky-pink sky.
“But what do you want?” Sokka asked.
Zuko lowered his gaze to him, then to the ground. He didn’t answer, instead, shook his head and turned to look over the bridge and to the flowing water.
Sokka waited in the quiet, his mind eagerly, but carefully, constructing his thoughts as anxiety panged in his chest at what he was about to say.
“What if you came with us?”

The question threw Zuko completely off guard. He’d turned to him with wide-eyed shock and dismay.

Sokka was staring back, seriously.
Zuko deflated in the next moment, looking away.
“That’s not funny, Sokka.”
“It’s not a joke,” he said, and walked to his side, also looking over the bridge. “I mean it.”
“...why?” he asked. “Why are you trusting me?”
Sokka turned his head to gaze at him.
“You’re different now, right?”
“You don't know that,” he admitted, gripping his sleeve. “Besides, it’s a joke to think the others would be as open to the idea as you are.”
“Well, we could take it slow. I could introduce you-- I mean, reintroduce you, and--”
“Do they know? About us?”
Sokka’s lips tightened to a regretful frown.
“No,” he admitted.
“Yeah, I wouldn't tell them either,” he said, turning away.
Sokka could not come up with any words of comfort, and could only think to reach out to him. He placed his hand on the other’s shoulder and gave him a gentle squeeze.
“But...we could tell them together.”
Zuko thoughtfully looked to Sokka’s hand, the weight of it was a comfort.
“I don’t know…”
“Hey, no worries,” said Sokka, “You don’t have to answer me right now. We’ve got time.”
When Sokka had backed off, Zuko seemed relieved, and nodded in response. They both looked out toward the setting sun from the view of the bridge they stood on.
“Suppose you’ll have to head back before the gates close,” said Zuko.
A mischievous grin played across Sokka’s face and he turned to face him with it.
“Wanna explore an upper ring?” he asked.
“What about the gates?”
“We’ll be in and out, real quick,” he said with a smile, already backing up toward the wall of the upper circle. Zuko didn't move, taking a moment to consider.
“It’s dangerous,” he hesitated.
“You’re gonna let that stop you?”
Zuko paused again, taking another step or two, which much to his embarrassment caused Sokka’s smile to widen further. He looked at how, even in the setting sun, there was a light to his eyes that harked on freedom somehow. He let out a breath, releasing his defenses entirely and walked to his side.
“In. And out.” said Zuko.
“You’re the boss,” Sokka said, but Zuko felt it quite the opposite.

They walked through the gate and into the well kept streets of the city’s middle ring. Stone paths were laid with care and thought, the city’s planning had been less haphazardous as it was in the third ring, with marked roads lined with beautiful flowering trees.
They’d walked for a short while until they came to a well lit building. Above it there rested a beautifully carved wooden sign that read “Cultural Heritage Hall”. Several girls, roughly their age, walked in front of them and inside. They were dressed in fine robes, their hair done up in beautiful black boards that held inlays of flowers and tassels. They and their painted faces walked in through the doors as they excitedly tittered amongst themselves.
“Lei-La said she’s strung together a most exquisite haiku for tonight’s reading!”
“Lei-La couldn’t even string a necklace of pearls if her life depended on it.The girl is pretty but dull, it’ll be a nothing-poem.”
The girls walked inside without even so much as a glance toward the boys. They looked to one another, and with a shrug, began to walk around the building. An obstruction gave them reason to pause, apparently a few people were loading crates onto a cart that was attached to a rather unruly ostrich-horse. One man was having some difficulty reigning the creature and keeping it still, while two others were busy with their work. They blocked the way through entirely. Zuko clicked his tongue in disappointment, and had attempted to turn back, when he noticed Sokka’s attention had been turned to one of the windows along the building.
“What’s this…?” he heard him mutter, and watched with surprise as Sokka actually leaned into the open window, looking into the room. He drew close behind him
“What are you--?”
“Shh,” Sokka hushed him. Zuko gave him a glance of irritation, but the other didn’t even notice, only pointing into the room. It was a wooden room, carpeted in rich jade green and emerald color, with a beautiful ink painted screen that sat atop a stage that ran below them. Atop the stage was a girl, looking done up in the same fineries as the other girls they’d seen walking in not but a few moments earlier. She held a scroll in front of her and was reading to an audience of young women.
“Through all the long night, winter moon glows with bright love. Sleet, her silver tears.”
Sokka’s head leaned into his hands that were propped up on the windowsill. As he listened, he did so with a goofy smile on his face.
“Ahhh...poetry,” he’d said.
Zuko watched with quiet admiration of the lovely piece, but held his breath, not wishing to be spotted. The former prince was suddenly alerted to a sound behind them, and quickly stepped back and out of the way of the ostrich horse, who’d given a powerful kick. The kick hit Sokka, who was forced further through the window. Zuko remained in shadow, but from there he could see that everyone in the room was staring right at Sokka, gasping. The poor boy was helplessly hanging there, using his arms to push himself up and away from the wall, possibly attempting to right himself back out the window. Part of the window frame had come loose and was caught around him in a disheveled mess.
“I am so sorry, something struck me in the rear.” Zuko could hear Sokka apologies to the gasping audience. He did the only thing he could think to do which, was grab the other by his legs and try to pull him back out. However, the window frame that had come undone prevented him from pulling his friend through. A puddle on the ground caused him to slip and release Sokka. He watched, horrified with embarrassment as Sokka tumbled and rolled clumsily into the room, like a ripe plum falling from it’s branch. Still apologizing to the audience and the speaker, Sokka rubbed his head and stood up, forcing the window frame off of him and letting it fall to the ground. “I just..wound up...here?”
Zuko wasn’t sure what to expect, but laughter and applause was at the bottom of the list. He watched, curious as Sokka paused, and began to count on his fingers. It registered with him then as it did with Sokka, he had accidentally made a haiku. He felt a small smile turn at the corner of his mouth from the strange luck. The clapping subsided, but someone from the audience continued, their applause slow and poignant. It was one of the girls from earlier that they’d seen enter in the building. She was currently glaring at Sokka.
“Five, seven, then five syllables mark a haiku, remarkable oaf,” she said, then curtly bowed. High society was full of false niceties, thought Zuko bitterly, but she hadn’t even bothered to hide her insult. Sokka seemed to catch on, as a look of indignation traced his face, and even Zuko could see that he had been challenged. He paused a moment, and held his chin in thought.
“They call me Sokka, that is, in the water tribe, I am not an oaf,” he responded, his face conveying his smug victory as the girls around him laughed. Zuko rolled his eyes. He hadn’t realized what a show off his tether was. Alright, that’s it, he’d won, time to go.
“Psst,” he called, trying to get Sokka’s attention while the girls continued to laugh. Sokka looked over as Zuko beckoned him to come back, but the voice of the woman drew their attention back.
“Chittering monkey, in the spring he climbs treetops, and thinks himself tall.”
Her words were biting.
“You think you’re so smart,” he said, “with your fancy, little words. This is not so hard.”
Sokka retorted, easily. The audience gasped, turning their attention back to the women, looking clearly insulted.
“Whole seasons are spent, mastering the form, the style, non calls it easy.”
“I calls it easy. Like I paddle my canoe, I’ll paddle yours too!” and he finished by swatting his own backside at her. The girls laughed, and even Zuko could not help but release a laugh of surprise at the rude gesture. He cleared his throat, quickly quelling the happy noise and resumed watching as the applause died down. The girl, clearly insulted by the gesture, began her turn.
“There’s nuts, and there’s fruits. In the fall the clean plum drops, always to be squashed.”
And from her robe she took out a small plum, small enough to fit delicately in her fingers, whereupon she dropped it, and with quick and decisive action, stomped on the little fruit, crushing entirely beneath her shoe.
Such actions were quite offensive in his eyes. Having been raised in the royal court, the subtle art of language was not lost on him, and it could be as sharp as any dagger. He had suffered now to be still as she’d compared Sokka to an oaf, a monkey, and now tree waste. He felt himself boil at the sight of her, his jaw tightening, but it was quelled the moment Sokke turned back and offered him a wink, replaced entirely with a warmth to his cheeks.
“Squish-squash sling that slang, I’m always right back at ya, like my...boomerang!” he’d proudly finished by taking out his weapon which was strapped to his back.
The girls laughed and applauded, and as the challenger backed down, Zuko sniffed at her defeat, leaning back and away from the window with pride, unaware at when he’d begun to lean in so intently in the first place.
Victory ensured, he thought Sokka might leave, perhaps attempt to crawl out the window, but instead he remained. He gestured for the applause and laughter to die down, was he going to continue?
“That’s right I’m Sokka, it’s pronounced with an ‘okka, young ladies, I rocked ya!”

The audience was dead silent, and any pride Zuko had held in his chest for his tether had fled. Sokka stared at them in confusion, before he turned his head to Zuko, who counted out on his fingers Sokka’s syllable use. Upon the last phrase, there had been six, and Sokka’s face fell as one of Zuko’s brows cocked teasingly upward.

“That’s one too many syllables, bub,” said a rather strong looking guard, coming to pick Sokka but by the front of his shirt. Zuko watched with interest and the guard then strongly tossed Sokka’s comparatively small frame out of the building. He calmly walk out and around to find him there, rubbing his back-side in pain and grumbling the word,
“Poetry…” with some bitterness.
Zuko walked over to his side, shaking his head at him.
“You had to show off,” he said down to him. The other only offered a sheepish grin.
“I was on a roll. It was one syllable off, hardly that much of a mistake,” he shrugged, closing his eyes as if his words had saved him from his embarrassment. They very much hadn’t as his cheeks had retained a slight pink to them.
“I think I’ve seen enough of the upper ring,” he said, changing the subject. “Need help up?”
He offered a hand, and Sokka obliged, pulling himself to his feet. Zuko retracted his hand when the other was righted and brushing himself off, but the ghost of the other’s warmth remained on his palm.
“I guess we should get back. I could walk you?”
“I know how to get back from here. You also need to make it back before the gate closes.”
“Right...right,” he nodded. Sokka fidgeted with his own hand as they remained silent, neither one moving one way or the other.
“So...I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah, tomorrow,” nodded Sokka.
They remained.
“This was nice,” said Sokka.
“Yeah,” nodded Zuko.
“I’m...really glad I found you.”
“Yeah, me too,” he said.
“I’ll see you later.”
“You too.”
They turned both heading away, and to their districts. Sokka turned back after a few steps, still walking but watching Zuko leave, and turned back, unaware that the other had done the same.

--

When Zuko had returned, he was unaware that his Uncle had been at the window, quietly peering around for any sign of his nephew. Upon his return, the man had quickly yanked his head back in and took up a small pair of scissors, pretending to have been pruning a small recently purchased bonsai tree. He turned his head slightly as Zuko walked in.
“How was your walk?” he asked.
Zuko paused at his bedroom door, then with some frustration entered and slammed the door behind him. His Uncle let out a breath of disappointment, and had turned back to continue his work and allow his nephew space, when he heard the door open just a crack.
“It was nice,” came Zuko’s voice, quiet and careful, before he’d shut the door, more gently this time.

Satisfied, Iroh turned and continued pruning his bonzai. He’d wondered if that would be the last he’d see of Zuko that night. When home, the two would often keep to themselves, having seen each other all day in the tea shop. When Zuko came out of his room later, he was surprised. Iroh was settling in for the night with a book. He allowed Zuko his own room, and would sleep in the common room. This wasn’t much of a problem, as he would be the early riser of the two. He heard the door open, but thought nothing of it, until he saw Zuko approach him from his peripherals.
“Something the matter?” he asked.
“Not exactly,” said Zuko, kneeling before him. “I’ve just been thinking,” his tone indicated there was more but he hesitated. His uncle waited patiently as Zuko seemed to collect his thoughts. “I want to know, what does it mean to be someone’s tether?”
“How do you mean?”
“You explained it to me once, I know. You said that my destiny is tied with his, but what is our destiny? You said I would grow to love him? How? And, is it my choice?”
Iroh’s expression had widened in interest. This was the most introspection he’d heard from the teen since their arrival here. He closed his book and set it to the side, and sat up straighter.
“Ah, I see,” Iroh began. “I am no expert on the subject, mind you, but I can do my best from what I know. There are many types of tethers, many types of love. Some end in marriage, some in life-long friendships, others in tragedy.”
“Tragedy?”
“Yes. Some, despite loving each other, do not always end up together. There are some stories of sacrifice, and there are some whose tethers become severed.”
“Severed? Meaning they no longer see each other in dreams?”
“That, as well as grave heartbreak and deep sadness. It has been said that to be severed is to lose a part of yourself, and when alone, you feel alien in your own body.”
Zuko was quietly in shock from this, his expression boarding on denial and intrigue. Iroh began again,
“Though, a severed tether is rare.”
“Why’s that?”
“There are very few accounts, for one thing. For the other, it is said that those who are tethered are meant for a great destiny, and often, it is unknown to them. They meet, they become close, and face their fate together, whatever it may be. To have it severed means that destiny has changed, irreversibly, for them and the world.”
“The world...it’s that powerful?”
“It can be, and has been so in the past” he nodded gravely. “I warn you though, many stories don’t always end up perfectly happy, or happy at all. As always, destiny may lead you somewhere, but it is up to you to decide your actions once you’re there.”
Zuko was quiet as he considered his Uncle’s words.”That boy spends a lot of time at the shop,” started his uncle, “and I wonder what your feelings are for him?”
Zuko paused, despite the answer readily leaping to his mind. He shifted, and gave nervous cough to stall as he tried to figure out how to phrase it.
“Ah he-- he’s-- well we’re...I’m…”
It was almost too much to say out loud, as if speaking it would jinx the whole thing then and there. He wanted to say they were friends, though he’d never asked Sokka out right what their relationship was. Yet even then, to think they were friends didn’t quite fit.
He remembered the feeling of Sokka’s hand in his, how the feeling of it lingered the entire walk home.
Hs Uncle chuckled, knocking him out of his thoughts, and he felt his cheeks go hot with embarrassment, somehow paranoid that the man could read his thoughts and was mocking him.
“We’re just friends!” he said, sharply, his shoulders hiking up without his notice.
“It’s alright, it is not for me to know,” he chuckled again. “It warms my heart to know you two are so close.”
“As friends.”
“As friend,” he nodded in response. “Well, is that all? Have you any more questions?”
“No, I think I’m okay for now,” he answered quickly getting to his feet. “Thank you for the explanation. Good night, Uncle.”
“Good night, nephew.”
And Zuko retreated to his room. Iroh watched him as he slid the door shut, his smile falling from his face as he considered just what the young prince’s fate could be with this boy.

Chapter Text

Thunder rolled across the sky like the roar of a tigerbear. It shook the frames of the homes and shops, and threatened to close them early. The market was empty, the dirt paths now flooded and muddied. Once the water front he market began to run along the streets of the third district, and near the tea shop, the residents and merchants also began to close up.
Sokka, who’d been at the shop to see the water come trickling in through the front door, was stuck there with the owner and his two employees. No one else was in the shop-- even the owner had gone home early to board up his house, which resided on the ground level. Though, despite the rain and lack of customers, the owner insisted that the place remain open-- a wasted investment in Sokka’s opinion, though perhaps it was because he was still there purchasing tea and the owner didn’t want to shoo him out.
“Maybe I should go,” said Sokka, feeling a bit guilty.
“In this rain?” asked Iroh, and as if on cue a loud crash of thunder rolled along the sky, the very frame of the tea house shook. “...better to stay here until it lets up. In the meantime, I’ll go make us some tea, on the house,” he smiled and winked, and walked away.
With no one to wait on, Zuko had resolved to sit across from Sokka at the table seated next to the window. It was open just wide enough for them to see the little rivers of rain run past them along the road.
“...good day to be a turtleduck,” Sokka mused idly.
“We used to have those at home,” said Zuko, his gaze still pointed out, as if lost in some memory of them.
“Turtle ducks in the palace, huh?”
“Not in, but we had a little garden just outside the main hall. It had a pond, and some turtle ducks had moved in during my grandfather’s time. Then the palace just...let several generations of them lay their eggs, hatch their young, and fly away once monsoon season ended. They’d come back at the beginning of summer.”
They went quiet then, and Zuko shifted uncomfortably.
“Sorry I...don't’ know why I told you that.”
“It’s good,” smiled Sokka. “I liked it.”
He didn’t respond. Sokka studied his thoughtful face, and could sense a sadness there. Perhaps he missed that place more than he let on. Quickly he turned back and reached into his bag.
“Hey, I almost forgot,” he started, pulling Zuko out of his thoughts. “I brought something with me today that might help us.”
“Help?” he asked.
“Mm!” he nodded, fishing a scroll from out of his bag. He smiled at it before placing it on the table. “Found us some information on Tethers.”
“Really?” the other asked, looking at the scroll at first with interest, and next, skepticism. “Are...you sure? Who sold it to you?”
“Er...well I didn’t buy it, per say.”
Zuko’s eyebrows raised in quiet surprise, but Sokka held out a hand in defense, as if to stop whatever criticism Zuko was formulating.
“Look I know it’s genuine because it came directly from the library of Won Shi Tong.”
“...Won Shi Tong’s library?” he asked flatly.
“Yup!”
“The fabled library that supposedly holds all the world’s knowledge and is hidden in the desert somewhere?”
“The very same,” he smiled proudly. “I was the one to spot it, you know.”
“...you really think I’m that gullible?”
“But it’s true!” he wined in return. “No-- I swear it’s true.”
“Sure...so, what’s in the scroll?”
“Actually, I didn’t open it yet. A lot happened while we were out in that desert and…” he bit his lip, knowing he couldn't say much more. “And...we were still kind uneasy with one another, so I stole it but never looked at it.”
“Well, let’s find out,” said Zuko, and reached out. He unfurled the scroll, his eyes skimming over the names and titles. “This is an account of someone Iwei tethered,” he said.
“What’s it say?” asked Sokka with interest.
“It said, The Tale of Dong Zhu, and Ning Yi.”
“A story?” groaned Sokka. “Ah. man I thought what I got was an accurate account, or some information about how this all works.
“Uncle has said that there are many stories, and that every destiny is different. I don’t think there’s any scroll, even in Won Shi Tong’s library, that could tell us what our destiny is.”
“But still…” said Sokka, running a hand over his head.
“Do you want to read it?” asked Zuko.
“I don’t know what the point would be.”
Zuko chanced a glance outside, and then to the kitchen where his Uncle was still brewing tea for them.
“Well...what else is there to do?”
“Good point,” Sokka shrugged. To Zuko’s surprise, the boy stood up and dragged his chair closer, now next to him on the same side. Zuko didn't say anything but stared back in curious silence. “What?” Sokka asked. “We’re both gonna read it right?”
“I could read it outloud,” he said.
“Yeah, but I also want to read along with you,” he said, seeming to have no problem with the proximity of their distance, which boggled Zuko as their shoulders were touching. Perhaps people front he Water Tribe were so thoughtlessly invasive of personal space, maybe this was normal for Sokka, he wondered. Not wishing to offend, Zuko resolved to grow used to the feeling, despite it causing his heart to beat wildly in him. He returned his gaze to the scroll.
“The Tale of Dong Zhu, and Ning Yi,” began Zuko, “A long time ago, two prefectures of what is now known as the Earth Kingdom lived in harmony with one another. The Dong family and the Ning family were blessed with sons, who later discovered their tether with one another. Upon this discovery, the clans pledged themselves as allies, and there was much celebration. In dreams the boys would play, in day they would train to become fine future leaders of their clan. It was said their meeting was fortuitous, and would ensure longevity of both blood lines.
Then came the spring, when the young men were in their prime to marry and ensure this peaceful union, that the farmers of the provenance that the Ning family lorded over did rise up, and in one dark night, cull the...cull the line…” Zuko read, suddenly feeling as though he’d rather put the whole thing down. Sokka sucked in a breath of air through his teeth.
“I was kinda hoping this’d be a happier tale,” he admitted, quietly. His head had sunk down to rest on his folded arms.
“...yeah. Maybe it has a better ending?”
“Keep going then,” Sokka insisted.
“...cull the line. Everyone had passed, except for Ning Yi.”
“Oh! So he survived! Perfect!”
“The Dong family rode to the assistance of the Ning family, but too late. With only Yi as the surviving clan member, Zhu promised to watch over Yi, and keep their land safe. So then it was that Dong-Zhu and Ning-Yi married, and shared titlement of the land.”
“Not bad…” shrugged Sokka. “Good story.”
“It’s not over.”
“Why...does that give me a bad feeling…?” asked Sokka, bitting his lower lip. Zuko felt the same, converting this feeling with a grimace of agreement, before he turned back and continued to read.
“It was in the spring of the following year that another neighboring clan did rise up and slay another clan, allied with the Dong family. All had perished in the brutal attack that happened in the darkest night of the month. The Dong family had again rode to their aid, only to have been too late, save for one woman of marrying age, who was thusly wed into the family to a cousin of Zhu’s. Dominion restored, there would be peace as there had been before.
Ning Yi, clever that he was, noticed something odd about the way in which this family of warriors were so brutally slain, and the taking of a new bride. It was familiar to his own family, and he wondered just how it was farmers came across such weapons and tactics that could easily overthrow generations of warriors within a single night. So, disguised as a passing monk, he rode to the farm of those that had slain the clan and was surprised by what he found. Farmers paraded around in the armor and silks of the slain family, and had claimed their ancestry weapons as their own. When asked, one of the farmers had assured the monk that such relics were allowed to be kept, by the agreement made with...made with the Dong family.”
“What?” exclaimed Sokka, reaching over and pulling at the scroll to get a better look. “No way, why?”
“If you let me finish we’ll find out,” said Zuko with some irritation.
“Well keep going then,” he insisted.
“Shocked, Yi rode as fast as his horse could carry him back to the estate of the Dong family-- a family he’d once found a home in, and did with grief streaming down his face, challenge the clan leader at his gates to a duel. It was Zhu who took him up on the challenge, his husband, and did beg for Yi to reconsider. Yi exposed the Dong family’s crimes then, and even accused him there of the murder of his own family. He begged his husband to do what was right, and to help him avenge his family, but Zhu revealed he had known all. He revealed that it was he that he had begged his father not to go forward with the plan, but when his father refused, he then begged for Yi to be spared in the attack so that they might wed.”
“I can’t believe it!” Sokka exclaimed. “Are you serious? Wha-- why would anyone do that?”
“Stop. Interrupting.”
“Right--yeah, sorry-- it’s just-- urrgh-- no, you’re right, keep going,” he said with interred, and had leaned in closer to Zuko from the excitement.
“Yi, his heart broken, pleaded with his love to avenge his clan, and to stop the bloodshed. At the crossroads of his destiny, Zhu made a choice. Unwilling to go against his father, he ran at Yi. Some accounts say Zhu meant only to injure or frighten his husband into submission, while others say Zhu was truly a cruel man. Their fight was short, and Yi had cast his weapon aside in time to receive his husband into his arms, with Zhu’s polearm run through his middle.”
Sokka had let out a defeated breath, but Zuko continued.
“Zhu had rejected his destiny, but some would come to say that this was the very destiny they had been hurtling toward their whole lives. Only Iwei and the Spirits know, truly. So it was that the wars did not stop until the three prefectures were conquered, and created the most powerful city in all the Earth Kingdom. The names of the prefectures were kept as declaration of the Dong’s and their conquest. Thus the Kingdom became known as Ba Sing Se…”
The two were silent, a terrible feeling of dread washing over them.
They were startled out of their thoughts by the heavy sound of a pot being set on their table. They turned to see Iroh setting down three cups, and quietly pouring tea for them.
“Not a happy story, is it?” asked Iroh. The boys did not respond, other for Sokka lift his body off and away from Zuko’s sitting up straight and scooting his chair respectfully away. Zuko found he missed the warmth, but said nothing and merely rolled the scroll back up. “I would almost rather you boys had not heard such a tale,” he said, dragging a chair closer to sit across from them.
“Yeah, kind of a bummer,” said Sokka.
“...but I don’t understand,” said Zuko, his gaze on the rolled up scroll in his hands. “What was their destiny? Was it to die, or did Zhu reject his destiny?”
“Many, many people believe it was Zhu’s destiny to marry Yi, and that the tragedy was that Yi had been the one to become too curious and leave the household to find the truth.”
“...seriously?” asked Sokka.
“Oh yes,” nodded Iroh. “But of course, pessimism is often mistaken for wisdom,” he chucked to himself, before taking a sip from his cup. Sokka reached out for his own, finding the warmth on the rainy day some comfort.
“Well...great,” grumbled Sokka, “I’ve got way more questions than I do answers now.”
“You’ll find that life is like that,” he nodded. “It provides us with choices, and consequences.”
“But fate and destiny,” started Zuko, “those are predetermined. How could Dong Zhu go against his own husband so easily?”
“I cannot speak for Zhu, but I will say that we each create our own destinies. Where we sit now is the result of a choice Zhu made from fear of his family. He could not go against them, even with the love and support Yi provided. In trying to force Yi to submit as he’d done, he lost his tether, and it was said, the man was never the same, and had passed from heart break not long after.”
They were both quiet. Iroh cleared his throat, drawing their attention up and out of their pensive thoughts.
“You two are hurtling toward your destiny. Every choice you make, and have made, defines your tether. We do not know what lies ahead of us, only that when you both find yourselves at this cross road, that you will have a choice to make, and there will never be an easy answer.”
The two exchanged an uneasy glance.
The storm raged on outside, but within the tea shop there was this moment of peace.

--

The rain had only let up in the dark, and Sokka was forced to run through the streets, soaking wet. The gates to the upper most ring had been closed, and Sokka had to resolve to sneak in, a feat he could only pull off with the help of the rain and the loud thunder to cover the sound of his movements. THere was a loose grate he knew of not too far away, when he’d been late to come home after the poetry night he’d spent with Zuko. He hurried along the streets, hoping there was no one out there to spot him or his movements. He certainly didn’t need the secret police tracking him from the tea shop to the apartment at such late hours. It struck him in that moment how easy it had become for him to lie and sneak about, perhaps this part of Zuko was rubbing off on him somehow. Then again that could only mean-- in his mind at least-- that some part of Sokka might also be influencing his tether. He hoped that was the case.
When he walked into the small apartment, he was surprised to find his sister sitting there, playing a game of solitaire by herself with a tile deck. Upon hearing his return, she looked up from it and put the tiles she was using down.
“There you are,” she said, standing. “You’re soaked! Where have you been?”
His stomach plummeted. Oh right, he’d promised to be back before sun down. This was the third time he’d forgotten.
“Oh, shoot-- Katara. I am so sorry, I wasn’t thinking-- the rain--”
She was frowning at him, but despite this had waterbended the rain off of his body, drying him off. She shot the water, with masterful control, otu an open window, before turning back to Sokka with her hands on her hips.
“For someone whose so schedule-driven, you’ve been pretty forgetful lately.”
“I know, I know,” he said, feeling truly embarrassed. “And I’ll make it up to you.”
“Sokka, that isn’t what this is about. Listen, and I need you to understand, you’ve been pretty distant from us lately,” she looked disheartened as she spoke. “It’s been hard for all of us, since Appa went missing, and everything that’s happened here. Now you’re just...gone. Like all the time.”
He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, regretfully.
“Yeah...I know.”
“It just feels like you’re keeping something from us.”
“I’m sorry.”
She paused, studying his face with her own sad expression. The act made him uncomfortable, but he allowed her to collect her thoughts.
“We could really use you,” she continued. “Aang could really use you, here. I don’t know what you're doing, or who you’re seeing, and I want to respect your privacy, but there’s a lot going on right now. A lot riding on us finding Appa.”
“You are absolutely right,” nodded Sokka, “and I’m...sorry. We’d just been traveling for so long, and staying in one place kinda feels…” he lied weakly, purposefully trailing off to allow Katara to fill in her own conclusions so he didn’t have to. She gave a nod.
“Still, for tomorrow, can you please just be here? We’re going to have a real group meeting about what we can do to find Appa.”
Sokka could not say no to his sister, not over something so important, and when she sounded so worried. He admitted to himself his own guilt at having indulged in leaving so often. Yet, he had promised he would return tomorrow.
He gave a swift and decisive nod at Katara.
“Of course, I’ll be here all day tomorrow.”
She let out a breath of relief and reached up to hug him.
“Thank you,” she said, and released him. “Well, I’m going to bed. Have a good night,” she waved.
Sokka retired to his own bedroom as well, and flopping in the bed, gave a groan into his pillow. He lifted his gaze as his mind tried to think of the consequences of not showing up. He turned his body to look up and out to the sky above where the moon hung.
It would be one day, he thought. It wasn’t so much his need to see him, but that he’d promised he’d be there. He didn’t want to leave him again, not in the way he had when they were young. No, he shook his head as if to shake away the dread, he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t walk away from Zuko this time, no matter what.

--

When he’d spent the next day with the Gaang, he’d found that he had missed them. He’d missed Toph’s ribbing, his sister’s nagging concerns, and Aang’s excitement. He really had been gone from them, and that hadn’t been fair. Plans for Appa were already in motion. It was discussed that they would make posters and print them. If Katara and Aang could find a printer, then they’d be busy all the next day. Once they’d found Appa, he’d explain everything-- to everyone. Zuko would understand, he thought. That is, of course, after he’d explained the elaborate lie he’d told him. He shut his eyes tight, and once more fended off the dread he felt.

In the late hours of the next morning, Sokka was already up and eating breakfast. He was half way through his bowl of rice and a plate of fish when Toph entered the room, yawning and stretching.
“Something smells great,” she’d said, and went over to kneel at the table across from Sokka.
“Rice, grilled fish, and these sweet picked things,” he replied. “Want me to make you a plate?”
“I got it,” she said, and began dishing it up for herself. “Hey, where are twinkle toes and Katara?”
“They headed out already to find a printer for posters.”
“Right, the plan. Man, I hope this works. The sooner we get out of here the better.”
“Agreed.”
“Ha! I didn’t expect you to say that. What about your crush? Or did you break up?” she teased. Sokka groaned and set his chop sticks down.
“For the last time. I don’t. Have. A crush.”
“And I told you, I know when you’re lying. And you. Are. Lying,” she’d leaned in when she spoke, and when she finished, had smugly taken a bite of fish.
Sokka blinked at her, noticing his own heartbeat thump in his chest. He was sure that he hadn’t been lying though. No surely, not, he thought. He liked Zuko, was always worried for him-- the guy’s life was worrisome. He thought about him in his down time, and he had been going to the tea shop every day. His eyebrows raised in quiet surprise as he remembered how hard he’d been trying to make Zuko smile all week. How when he’d finally laughed, how light he’d felt from the sound of it. How he hoped he would hear it again.
A quiet acknowledgement passed in his mind as he picked his utensils up again and began to eat, with less fervor this time.

When Sokka had finished breakfast, he’d set to work on making the posters for the printer. With his art skills, he thought, Appa was as good as found.
Aang and Katara burst into the room, smiling broadly in excitement as Katara held up a poster.
“We found the printer to make our posters!” she said, and Aang nodded along excitedly. showing Sokka the good news. He took the fine paper, noting how close the drawing of Appa was to the real thing.
“Hey, I thought designing the “lost Appa” poster was my job. I’ve been working all day on my Appa,” he said, proudly holding up his best piece yet. Katara was doing her best to hold in her laughter, while Aang rubbed his head in disappointment.
“Sokka, the arrow is on Appa’s head,” said Aang.
“This is his head.”
“Why are feet coming out of it?” Katara asked.
“Those are his horns! I haven’t seen him in a while, ok?” he said, looking down, dejected.
“It looks just like him to me,” said Toph. Sokka brightened up,
“Thank you, I worked really hard on--” he paused. “Why do you feel the need to do that?”
“Let’s just stick with the professional version,” said Katara.

And with that, the gang was off. They’d begun to hang posters around the first ring, while Aang took to the sky to rain the leaflets down from the sky. They figured they’d start local first.

The posters hadn’t been up for longer than an hour, when there was a knock at their door. Excited for any possibility of news about Appa, Aang opened the door in a hurry, only to see that Joo Dee stood before them. Joo Dee, their former handler in the city, stood before them with her same, vapid, wide smile. Her gaze was as hollow and her smile just as forced as ever.
“Joo Dee?” Aang said, obviously surprised. There was cause for alarm, as the last time the gang had seen her was during the Earth King’s party, where they’d failed to meet the man. She’d been in a great panic when she’d found them there, explaining that she would be in terrible trouble. She stood before them now, smiling, as if she hadn’t been dragged away, arrested, and temporarily replaced with another woman claiming to be Joo Dee. The mysterious and sinister circumstances sent shivers down the collective spine of the gang.
“Hello Aang, and Katara, and Sokka, and Toph.” she spoke in a pattern, as if repeating their names from some list she’d been forced to memorize.
“What happened to you?” Sokka asked. “Did the Dai Li throw you in jail?”
“What? Jail? Of course not?” she said, throwing a hand as if to swat away the question. “The Dai Li are the protectors of our cultural heritage.”
“But you disappeared at the Earth Kings’ party,” sadi Katara.
“Oh, I simply took a short vacation to Lake Laogai, out in the country. It was quite relaxing,” she said, smiling. The explanation was weak, at best. One wasn’t so panicked only to be granted a vacation for having let the Avatar and his friends infiltrate the Earth King’s party. He decided he would ask Toph about the credibility of that obvious lie later.
“But then they replaced you with some other woman who also said her name was Joo Dee.”
The woman looked to them in a strange stupor, and to Sokka, is was almost like being able to see two cogs in her mind trying to push past each other in opposition.
“I’m Joo Dee,” she then said, as if Katara was the one who was confused.
“Why are you here?” asked Aang.
She’d expressed her reason finishing with an absolute.
“You are absolutely forbidden by the rules of the city to continue putting up posters,” said Joo Dee, staring at them in that same wide-eyed fashion she always did. This did not go over well with Aang. Red in the face, he began waving his arms and shouting.
“We don't care about the rules, and we’re not asking permission! We’re finding Appa on our own and you should just stay out of our way!”
And with that Aang had intimidated Joo Dee so much that she’d stepped back and out the door, allowing Aang the room to slam it in her face.
“That might come back to bite us in the blubber,” said Sokka.
“I don’t care. From now on, we do whatever it takes to find Appa.”
“Yeah! Let’s break some rules!” exclaimed Toph, before earthbending to allow the side of their home to collapse. Ah. He’d missed them.
“Then we’ll need to get as many posters up as possible before the Dai Li think to take them down,” reasoned Sokka.
“Then let’s get started!” smiled Aang.
So they gathered more posters, and set out to paint the town in them. Once in the lower end of the second district, they’d split up to cover more ground. Sokka ahd gone with Toph, or rather, Toph had gone with him. She was very capable, but still blind and unable to tell what side of the poster held the drawing, and therefore, which way to paste them to the wall. Because there was little else to do, she took to her favorite pastime, picking on him.
“So,” said Toph, leaning against a wall in boredom, “does your crush know you’re with the Avatar?”
“No,” he said, his tone already irritated.
“What? What’s the point of it if you don't get the hero worship that comes with it?”
“I don't want hero worship, and trust me, telling him that wouldn't get me anything.”
“Him, huh?”
Sokka made a disgruntled noise in his throat.
“Yes, him. What about it?”
“Now I know more about this waiter who works at the tea shop,” she said.
“Can we not talk about this right now?” he said, painting the glue onto another empty part of the wall. “We should be focused on finding Appa.”
“So we’re hanging these posters all over the city, right?”
“That’s the plan,” he sighed, thinking of the long day ahead of him.
“Well, if they didn’t know before they might know now. Especially if they see you hanging them up.”
She’d giggled, thinking herself quite clever at lightly ribbing him, but for Sokka, the words felt as though the world had been pulled out from under him. He was outside his body, staring at the poster of Appa that stared back at his lies.
“...Sokka?” asked Toph, clearly alerted to his different heart beat.

How could he have been so blind, so forgetful? The chance at finding Appa and making some-- any-- sort of progress toward the Solar Eclipse invasion had completely taken over his thoughts. The time he spent with Zuko, and the mission he had with the Gaang had felt so separate, and he reeled at his own tunnel vision when it came to prioritizing his goals.
“Oh...no,” he breathed.
“Hello? Earth to Sokka,” said Toph, her fists resting on her hips. “What is up with--”
“I gotta go,” he said, taking the satchel full of posters off from around his shoulder.
“Go? Where?”
“Erm-- bathroom--!”
“I know you’re ly-- hey!” she said, hearing the poster bag hit the ground as Sokka took off.

“What’s going on?” asked Katara, coming out from around the corner.
“You’re brother just took off.”
“He what?”
“Yeah,” she huffed, bending down and grabbing up the satchel. “All I said was that his crush would figure out he was with the Avatar, and then he took off.”
“What?” she scoffed. “He-- is-- unbelievable right now!” she said, throwing his fists at her sides. “And to think he just left you here too!”
“Hey, I can take care of myself,” said Toph, crossing her arms. “I just can’t...yaknow, put up posters.”

Meanwhile, in the third ring of the city, Zuko was busy with his usual job, though he found it especially grating today. He could not find it in him to muster up even a neutral face at the customers who would walk in. His glare and his curt speech was more pronounced today. His sour mood was attributed to the fact that Sokka had not come back in two days. And while Zuko paced his breathing, assured himself that Sokka was either busy or catching up on rest, there was a twinge of anxiety that whispered that Sokka had grown tired of him and left. He was sure it was his indecision on Sokka’s offer that had driven the other away. Or maybe it was that he was too sad to be around for someone as optimistic and cheery as his tether. Maybe it was something small, something he said, a joke he didn’t get, or maybe he himself was just unworthy of-- where was he? His eyes kept lingering on the door of their shop, waiting for his idiotic, goofy face to show up, apologizing and asking for a pot of tea in his usual wrong way.
The door opened, and Zuko, while delivering an order, had nearly tripped from the sudden sound. It was not Sokka, but three finely dressed men. He did not hide his irritation, and continued about his business. He’d seen the likes of such men before, and did not care for their self-important, pompous, attitudes. They were the type to throw their weight around to impress or intimidate the lower class. They were speaking to his Uncle, and Zuko held little interest for their conversation as he set a table’s order down. He glared over at the men as he passed to retrieve another order; his Uncle was three times the man these Earth Kingdom fools could ever be, and yet they talked to him as if he were lucky to even have their attention. They came with an offering, Zuko only half listened, his peripherals still on the door, waiting for his friend.
“Did you hear that, nephew? This man wants to give us our own tea shop,” his Uncle called over.
“That’s right boy,” said the man’s whose voice already within the first second grated on Zuko’s nerves. “You’re life’s about to get a whole lot better.”
Unable to contain his frustration, he set down the tray with restrained force that rattled its contents and walked out.
“I’ll try to contain my joy,” he shot back before he exited the building.
He left the adults to their conversation.

Another tea shop. Great. Exactly what the prince of the Fire Nation should be doing. Serving tea to lesser people who think they can so easily hold basic human necessities over his head as a prize. Boy, the man had called him. What, did he expect Zuko, son of Fire Lord Ozai and Ursa to grovel in thanks at such a lowly position. Boy, Zuko thought bitterly, and imagined what fear the man would know if he knew who Zuko truly was. Would he think then to insult him?
He groaned and covered his face, embarrassed by his own temper. His eyes peeked over his fingers and down the street, this way, then that.
Where was Sokka? What, did he think himself too good for Li the tea shop waiter too? He huffed at his own petty jealousy and anxiety. No, this was Sokka he was talking about. The guy who had, even while he’d still had the power to go after the Avatar, forgiven him, tried to talk to him.
And why?
It didn't make sense to him. Why forgive him so easily? Too easily. It was an act, wasn't it?

Meanwhile, Sokka was running as fast and hard as he could through the districts. After five minutes, he’d made it just in time to see Zuko waiting outside of the tea shop.
“Li!” Sokka called.
Zuko lifted his head at the sound of his name, a look of surprise and relief washing over his face and Sokka raced over to him. He’d almost reached him, when a shadow swiftly flew past them, and Sokka could see the leaflets beginning to drop. It had been Aang, using his staff to soar overhead and spread the posters.
The movement of the gracefully laffing leaflets caught Zuko’s attention-- but Sokka had collided with him before he could reach for one.
The two collapsed to the dirt road in a heap, both groaning as they picked themselves up.
“Sokka, what is wrong with you?” asked Zuko, turning, but Sokak was already busy collecting and crumpling up the leaflets. Zuko watched his bizarre actions, as Sokak had pressed the combined papers into a ball, and then had thrown them up and onto the roof of some other building, allowing it to get caught in the gutter.
“Whew…” breathed Sokka, and turned back.
“What...did I just see?”
“I...erm...those were…”
“And where have you been?” he asked, getting to his feet.
“I-- erm, look, I can explain everything, but first, I need you to come with me.”
His eyes widened in shock.
“Is there trouble?”
“No-- well, sort of-- yes?”
“Well which is it?”
“Which is what?”
“Sokka!” he said, and grabbed his shoulders with both hands, staring at him with irritation. “What is going on?” he demanded.
Sokka let out a breath and ran a hand over his head as he tried to think. When no answer came to mind, he grabbed Zuko’s hand, and began to run. The former allowed himself to be pulled into a dark alleyway, the shadows immediately cooler than the glaring mid day sun. Sokka proceeded to glance around, then up, as if sure he were being followed. Seemingly satisfied, he turned back to Zuko.
“Alright,” he stared, “Look, I have to tell you something and you’re really, really not gonna like it.”
“Can you stop acting weird and just tell me?”
Sokka’s breath was caught in his chest, just one exhale and the entire truth would come spilling out. Now was the moment of truth, it seemed. How had their week together been, had it been enough to turn Zuko from his constant pursuit of Aang and his friends? He felt nervous, his heart pounded in his throat, his mouth went dry even as he spoke.
“The Avatar is in the city.”
“What!?” The former prince all but shouted, and grabbed Sokka by his shoulders and looked him dead in the eye. “When?”
Sokka bit his lip, using the slight pain of it to urge him into speaking further.
“Since...since I’ve been here,” he said, quickly, the words tumbling clumsily out of his mouth.
Zuko stared at him in stunned shock, which quickly turned to anger, removing his hands from Sokka’s shoulders.
“You...lied to me?”
“Yes-- I did.”
“I should have known,” he said with such bitterness that Sokka couldn't help but wince in response. “Where is he?”
“Currently, he’s flying around all of Ba Sing Se dropping off…” he made a disgruntled noise and turned to an already crumpled leaflet that rested on a trash bin. He picked it up and offered it, but Zuko didn't take it. “These,” he finished. “Our bison’s been missing, and we’ve been basically glorified prisoners here.”
Zuko looked to the leaflet, before his eyes flicked back up to Sokka, narrowing.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because-- don’t you see? This is perfect!”
Zuko blinked at him, struck dumb by Sokka’s sudden happy expression.
“H-how?” he asked.
“Zuko, come with me!” he said, gently grabbing Zuko’s hands in his, flustering the former prince further. The former didn’t pull away, but stared at his hands in wide disbelief over what was unfolding. “We can find Appa together!”
“Did...did you hit your head when you tackled me?” he asked, raising his eyes to meet Sokka’s.
“Of course not! Look, if you and I find Appa before the others, that’s a perfect way to reintroduce you to everyone. They’ll know you’re on our side, and we can all leave Ba Sing Se together.”
“L-leave?”
There was no room to catch up between each of Sokka’s bright ideas. He’d always been like this, even since they were kids. He’d go off on some tangent of fantasy, planning every step like any of it was possible, but he had a smile that made Zuko almost want to believe him.
Believe him, like he’d believed that the Avatar wasn’t in the city.
He shook his head and suddenly yanked his hands out from Sokka’s grasp.
“What are you talking about?” he began angrily. “Go with you? Reintroduce me-- find the bison? Sokka, you lied to me!”
“I-I know but--”
“And then you just run up to me, tell me that the key to my place at home is freely roaming the city-- and I’m just supposed to go with you? To switch sides-- just like that?”
“Well, I mean--” started Sokka, his hand on his neck. He was suddenly seized by the front of his short sleeve wrap shirt, and turned quickly, losing his balance, was then pinned against the wall. “Okay-- so we’re doing this again,” Sokka coughed.
“Is that why you’ve been visiting everyday? Have you been checking up on me? Making sure I still don’t know where the Avatar is? Distracting me?”
“No! No, I genuinely wanted to see you! I...it’s just been so nice to see you not angry. You’ve been so relaxed, and I’ve been so relaxed and…” he let out a breath, seeing that this only seemed to irritate Zuko further.
“Time spent relaxing could have been used to hunt down the Avatar.”
“But instead it was used to catch up, have fun.”
“This isn’t a game, Sokka!” he shouted back. Sokka winced, slightly, knowing that Zuko was right.
“I never treated you like a game. Everything I said to you-- aside from where the Avatar really was-- was true. I am tired of fighting you, and I wanted us to not fight. If you knew where he was we’d be at each other’s throats the whole time! Look at us!” he exclaimed finally.
Zuko’s eyes widened as he realized what he was doing. A pang of regret beat in his chest. Slowly, he unclenched his grip on Sokka, and finally backed off a step. Sokka brushed himself off with a sigh and looked to Zuko.
“It was wrong to lie, I know, but now do you understand why I did it?”
Zuko’s gaze was turned away, and he didn’t respond. Sokka moved forward, and put a hand on Zuko’s shoulder.
“We have a chance to start over. I’m asking-- no I’m begging you to come with me.”
A pause, but in it, Sokka felt an unsteady energy to Zuko. In the next moment he shrugged off Sokka's hand.

“I will...help you find your bison.”
“You will?”
“Yes, but on one condition.”
Sokka stared back, unsure but allowed Zuko to speak.
“You don’t tell anyone until after it’s done. Don’t tell your friends where you’re going, and just meet me tonight, as soon as it’s dark. Understood?”
Sokka was unsure about these conditions, but after a moment’s consideration, he gave a nod. Such things would be hard to explain to the group without Appa anyway.
“Okay,” said Sokka, and Zuko nodded back.
“Good. Meet back here later tonight.”

And with that they parted ways. Sokka ran out the alley way, and Zuko calmly stepped out behind him, watching the back of his head with a glare as he went.

Sokka continued through the street, his mind racing over how on earth he was going to lie to his friends about where he was going that night. The simple answer was that there was no lying, not in front of Toph anyway. So perhaps being vague would be the answer? He didn't know. Then again he could always slip away, no explanation…and look utterly suspicious. Why did he have to go and tell such a huge lie, he groaned in his mind. He shook his head. No, he still had everything under control, and everything would go fine. Get Appa, reintroduce Zuko to the group, overthrow the Dai Li, and get the Earth King and his troops on their side for the invasion. A tall order, but he was sure he could do it.
“Jet!” called a voice.
This caused Sokka to do a double take and run back a few steps to the ally he’d just blazed past. Walking calmly down the street, their backs to him, were Smellerbee and Long Shot, two of Jet’s closest companions. He blinked, surprised at their appearance inside this heavily guarded city, he hadn’t seen them in months. They seemed to be openly looking for their leader, and he approached them.
“Hey,” he called, still some feet off.
The two of them turned, seemingly just as surprised to see him as he was to see them.
“Sokka!” exclaimed Smellerbee, and seemed to have no qualms running right up to him, Long Shot just behind her. “Sokka, have you seen Jet?”
“No,” he said, “I had no idea any of you were here in the city, What are you doing here?” he said, eyeing them with some suspicion.
“We came to start a new life,” she said. “We’re not up to anything, we promise,” she said, holding up her hands in front of her. Sokka cast his glance at Long Shot, a normally quiet boy, who merely gave Sokka a single nod in return. There was an earnestness to the guy Sokka couldn't help but trust. Convinced, for the moment, he sighed and looked back to Smellerbee.
“So what’s up? Captain Pain-In-Side go missing while roughing up more innocent people?”
Smellerbee and Long Shot exchanged a glance.

As it turns out, Sokka wasn’t far from the truth. Smellerbee had explained the situation as they continued to walk. Her story had been cut short when suddenly the Gaang walked out into the street, hurrying somewhere. With them was Jet.
“What the--?” asked Sokka, and turned to Smellerbee. “I thought you said the Dai Li took him.”
“They did!” she said. “But they must have let him out. Jet!” she called, and the three ran over to him.
“I thought you said you didn’t have your gang anymore,” said Katara to Jet.
“I don’t,” he defended, but Smellerbee ran right up to him, hugging him. It was a quick embrace and she pulled away. Sokka ran up with them, and felt Katara’s angry glare now shift to him.
“And where have you been?” she demanded,
“I-- I’ll tell you later,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But hey, I found Smellerbee and Long Shot!”
“How did you get away from the Dai Li?” Smellerbee asked Jet.
“The Dai Li?” exclaimed Katara. Had Jet not told the others?
“Yeah,” said Sokka, folding his arms. “You know, the secret police these guys said you got dragged off by...after attacking a tea shop?” he said, particularly ticked-off by the last part of the story that he’d been told moments earlier.
“I don’t know what any of you are talking about. What tea shop? I came here on my own.”
“No, you were arrested a couple of weeks ago,” Smellerbee defended, confused as everyone else. “We saw him get dragged away.”
“Why would I get arrested? I’ve been living peacefully in the city.”
“That I find hard to believe,” said Sokka.
By this time, Toph had quietly walked between the two, and knelt down. Her hand on the ground, she seemed to be listening with some confusion on her face.
“This...doesn’t make any sense,” she said. “They’re both telling the truth.”
“That’s impossible,” exclaimed Katara.
“No...it’s not,” thought Sokka, putting a hand to his chin. “Toph can’t tell who’s lying because they both think they’re telling the truth-- where were you all headed just now?” he asked, turning to Aang and the others.
“We were looking for you,” said Aang, “to tell you we needed to...leave the city!” exclaimed Aang as realization struck him.
“The Dai Li wants us out of the city,” said Sokka, “The’re using Jet to lead us away.”
“What? That’s crazy! I told you I’ve been living peacefully--”
“If Joo Dee’s memory loss of her own arrest is any indication,” said Sokka, “then I believe Jet’s been brainwashed!”
“That’s crazy! It can’t be,” retorted Jet, but with a nervous glance about himself, suddenly exclaimed for everyone to stay back. They closed in on him, they were going to drag the truth out one way or another.

--

Once Zuko reached his home, the little apartment he and his uncle shared, he quickly opened the door and stepped into the living space where his uncle was already busy packing. Upon his entrance, his uncle looked up, surprised by how angrily the door had been shoved open. He relaxed in the next moment, arching an eyebrow.
“Where have you been?” he asked.
Zuko answered in hurried, angry grunts, the only desirable words being “Sokka”, “Bison”, and “stupid tether”.
And with that he’d retreated into his room, slamming the door again. Iroh sighed, and resumed packing. Teenagers, the man figured.

Once alone in his room, Zuko immediately knelt down and pulled out the clothes he wore as the blue spirit. He’d be needing it for tonight. Checking his gear, he began to formulate a plan in his mind, his heart still burning with anger at his tether. He could find this creature before the Avatar, he was sure. If they were so determined as to break their silence and openly search for their bison here, it meant that they knew it was in the city. But that being the case, it was a safe bet that the Dai Li did have it hidden away, and were keeping it from them.
The Dai Li gave Zuko some cause for hesitation.
Jet, a former and short-lived accomplice, had figured out that they were Fire Nation. The boy had been brash, and without any careful planning, had openly challenged Zuko to fight him, coming into the establishment where they worked and threatening to tear the place down. The plan had been a childish attempt to bait him into exposing his firebending, resulting in a brawl that had followed them out into the street. Jet was far from the experienced swordsman that Zuko was, his stances were poor and it was obvious he’d never been formally trained. He was dealt with quickly, and before Jet could retreat, he was picked up by the Dai Li. The incident had stained Zuko’s memory as he remembered how eerily quiet and fast the Dai Li had handled the situation. From living in this place, he gathered bits and pieces of information on the Dai Li. No one was to speak of the war outside the walls, no one was even supposed to mention that there was a war. Jet had been a clear example of the consequences. He had not seen him since, and had assumed he had been led to some grim fate.
Now, Sokka and his team were openly proclaiming war against them. Of course they were. Anything they did was always overt and obvious.
His mind wandered back to the night they shared in the second ring, where Sokka had so clumsily, and so obviously intruded on the poetry. His brash nature left him open to insult, insult that he then slung back. Anything Sokka did was open, without hesitation, and carefully planned.
Like how he’d carefully lied to Zuko all this time.
The smile that had been forming on his face dropped immediately, and he seethed at having allowed the memory to be fond at all. He angrily shoved his gear back under his bed and out of sight. His mind tossed over what exactly he was going to do, and why he felt so conflicted on his decisions.
He took in a breath, clearing his mind of his obnoxious feelings for his tether, and focused on the mission at hand. The bison was in the city, somewhere, and if what Sokka said was true and they were glorified prisoners, it meant that the Dai Li themselves were keeping the bison from them on purpose. Therefore, the first objective was to find a Dai Li agent, and interrogate them. The consequences would be severe, especially if they found out his true identity in the process, but finding this creature before the Avatar could was paramount to his capture and his restored honor. He was sure.
His gaze turned then to his door. It was time to inform his uncle of the good news.
He entered back into the living room, less forceful this time. Iroh turned back, and seeming to sense the staunch air from his nephew, decided to drum up light conversation.
“So I was thinking about names for my new tea shop. How about the Jasmine Dragon?”
Zuko unbuttoned the first two buttons on his cheongshan, reaching in to take out the flyer.
“It’s dramatic, poetic, has a nice ring to it.”
He lay the flyer down on the table next to him. He’d easily picked one up from off the ground on his way back, as they’d been scattered everywhere. Sokka was an entire fool-and-a-half to think he could have kept this information from him.
“The Avatar’s in Ba Sing Se” started Zuko, “And he’s lost his bison.”
Curious and a bit startled, his uncle lifted the paper to get a better look.
“Odd,” said Iroh, “I thought your tether had said--”
“He lied,” he said, quietly, but sharply. “It’s disappearance predates even our own arrival here.”
He walked past his uncle, casting scathing glances out the window, his hands balled into fists, though he kept his tone even.
“That doesn’t matter though. It’s a safe bet that the bison’s here in the city, but mostly likely underground. I’ll find it.”
There was a pause, in which he was sure his Uncle was also aligning his goals with his, but the older man set the paper aside and said,
“We have a chance for a new life here. If you start stirring up trouble, we could lose all the good things that are happening for us.”
Shocked, he turned back to face him.
“Good things that are happening for you,” he replied, with bitter anger, feeling betrayed by even his own uncle. “Have you ever thought that I want more from life than a nice apartment and a job selling tea?”
“There is nothing wrong with a life of peace and prosperity. I’ve seen you quite enjoying yourself, as of late, if I’m not mistaken.”
The teen cast his glare to the floor. Iroh continued, finishing folding the dish towel.
“I suggest you think about what it is that you want from your life, and why.”
He had been asked this before, the memory of it dug bitterly at his emotions. He remembered Sokka standing there, on the bridge with him, the sun painting golden light on the world as it set and he asked “what do you want?”.
“I want my destiny,” he said, determination coursing through him.
“What that means is up to you,” his Uncle responded, but Zuko didn’t acknowledge it, and turned away. As he returned to his room he could hear his Uncle exclaim, “The Tea Weevil!...No that’s stupid.”

--

Meanwhile, Sokka was in a small room with everyone else, helping guard Jet as they attempted to drag the truth out of him. He looked out the window, it was late afternoon, but he still had time before the sun set completely. He turned back to the scene before him. Jet sat in a chair while the gang and his friends all stood around him, brainstorming how to unlock Jet’s real memories.
“The Dai Li must have sent Jet to mislead us,” said Katara. “We were already making plans to leave the city entirely on his word,” she said, casting a glance back at her brother. “Which you’d have known if you’d have been here.”
Sokka didn’t answer, but offered up an apologetic grimmace. Her gaze shifted just slightly to know she didn’t forgive him, before she turned her focus back on Jet.
“If they have Appa here in the city,” said Aang. “then maybe he’s in the same place they took Jet. Where did they take you?”
“Nowhere!” he exclaimed, “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. “Seriously, I was never arrested, why don't you believe me?”
“We need to find a way to jog his real memories,” said Aang.
“Try to think of something from your past that triggers your emotions,” Toph offered.
“The fire nation, what they did to your family,” said Smellerbee.
“Close your eyes,” said Katara, “picture it.”
Jet did as he was told, but as he sat there he grew more distressed until he pulled out of his own thoughts, shaking his head.
“No!” he said, breathing heavy. “It’s too painful.”
“Here,” said Katara, and went to his side, already benign the water from her pouch to aid him.

Sokka took this opportunity and walked over to Toph, putting a hand on her shoulder and whispering,
“Can I talk to you outside for a moment?”
Toph nodded and the two of them quietly walked out into the hall, leaving Katara and the other’s to work on Jet’s memory.
“What’s up?” she asked.
“Look, this wole, crush thing,” he said.
“Aww, am I ribbing you too heard?” she teased, folding her arms. “Should I let up?”
“No-- well I would prefer if you did, but that’s not why I asked you out here.”
“Hmm? Got something to say, boomerang?”
“Yeah, I need to tell you something, and I need you to tell me if I’m lying or not.”
A quizzical expression washed over her face, but she let her arms fall to her sides, possibly making sure she was concentrating hard enough. Sokka took in a breath.
“Tonight, I have to leave. I’m meeting a contact.”
Her eyebrow quirked in response.
“The waiter I’ve been meeting has said they want to help me break Appa out, but I cannot introduce him to the group yet.”
“...why?” she asked, putting her fists on her hips.
“I can’t tell you why, they asked me to keep them a secret.”
“That’s a lie.”
“Alright, I can’t tell anyone yet because they’re Fire Nation.”
Her eyebrows shot up.
“Did the Dai Li brainwash you too?”
“Toph, you’re the only one I can trust right now,” he said. “And I know I can’t lie to you.”
“You got that right.”
“So I need your help.”
“But if they’re Fire Nation, why trust them?”
“They’re my tether.”
This shocked Toph, very clearly, but in the next moment she stuck her tongue out and made a sound of disgust.
“Ick.”
“Do you see now why I’ve had to kinda hide this from the others?”
“Yeah, definitely,” she nodded. “I’d be waaay embarrassed too,” she laughed, then sighed. “But...can you really trust him?”
“I’ve known him since we were kids-- and-- and I think this is our cross roads or something?”
Toph looked at him with a frown pulled into an incredulous look, her hands on her hips.
“...I have no idea what that means, and I don’t care. You’ll catch up though, right?”
“I am not leaving you guys behind, I promise. If everything goes well we’ll have Appa and a way out of Ba Sing Se.”
“Good enough for me,” she smiled with a shrug.
“Keep an eye on Jet for me, make sure he doesn’t pull anything in case this is all one big trap.”
“No sweat. Don’t fail, or Katara’s gonna have your hide.”
“Yeah, I’m very aware,” he sighed.
“Alright, go have your date. I’ll cover for you.”
“Seriously? Thank you-- it’s not a date!”
“Whatever you say, boomerang.” said Toph, waving her hands at him. He groaned but ran away. “And-- I can’t believe I’m saying this-- be careful.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got everything, perfectly under control,” he said, already walking backward, then turning to run down the hall.

--

Sokka had run all the way back to the third ring, and back to the alley in front of the now closed tea shop. He looked around, but saw no one, until a hand reached out from the darkness and pulled him in. He yelped in surprise, but a gloved hand covered his mouth then.
“Keep it down,” came Zuko’s voice from behind him. He then shoved Sokak away from him, and stepped back. Sokka turned and looked at him. He was clothed in black garments, and a fearsome looking blue mask that covered his face.
“You never said we were supposed to bring spy gear!” he whispered harshly.
“We’re about to break into the compound jail and headquarters of secret police. Being as discreet as possible should be a given.”
“Yeah...well…?” he shrugged. “I don’t exactly have many dark clothes. They’re all just...blue.”
“That’s fine,” said Zuko, walking up to him, getting quite close. There was a strange air to him, Sokka noticed. This was not the relaxed Zuko he’d come to know, this was one on high-alert, field with a quiet energy that seemed almost dangerous. He put a hand on Sokka’s shoulder. “For now, I want you to be noticeable.”
“You do?”
“Run left, then turn into the right alley,” he said. Sokka looked to him in question, hoping for further explanation.
Then, with a great shove, he pushed Sokka out and back into the street. In fighting to catch his footing, he’d bumped into someone. Sokka turned only to come face-to-face with a Dai Li agent. He gasped, looking up at the man now angrily glaring back down at him.
“Oh...I’m...so sorry,” he smiled, holding up his hands and backing away
“Wait a minute, you’re with the Avatar,” said the man. “What are you doing away from your residence?”
“Gotta go!” yelped Sokka, and began running to the left like Zuko had instructed him to. The man took after him, ordering him to stop. Sokka hurried around the right corner, but to his horror, saw that it led to a completely dead end. He turned back in time to see the agent band his earth-covered glove out to Sokka. Shaped like hands, the rocky binds grabbed him by the arms and forced him to the ground. They forced his forearms to lay flat on the ground, and he was bent awkwardly over his knees, completely helpless. Sokka watched, his heart sinking as the man advanced on him. He tried to steady his breath, his eyes trying not to search the shadows desperately for Zuko. He was sure, positive, that Zuko would be right there, any moment, to save him. But the Dai Li agent knelt down, and stared him right in the eye with a snide smirk.
“Maybe you brats need to be taught a more direct lesson,” said the man.
Before he could move further, two silver blades suddenly slid into view and under the exposed neck of the agent.
“Sounds good, how about we start with where you’re keeping the bison?” said Zuko. The agent made a move, as if he were going to bend, but the blades began to press into his bare flesh. “Don’t keep me waiting,” Zuko threatened.
“...Lake Laogai,” breathed the man, his voice shaky. “It’s outside the city-- not far though…”
As he gave them the directions, Sokka watched with a strange mix or relief, and caution. He’d seen Zuko in many lights, had come to know many sides of him. The boy was complex, he led a complex life of always being on the run, and this much Sokka had come to acknowledge, but in this moment, he was a stranger to him.
The information given, Zuko removed the twin blades from the man’s throat. As soon as he did, the man moved to fight back, but was quickly struck in the back of the head by the hilt of one of the twin blades. He fell over like a bag of rocks. The binds around Sokka’s wrists fell away, and he was able to stand up.
“Thanks for letting me know the plan,” Sokka muttered, rubbing his wrists. Zuko said nothing and began trying the unconscious agent up, wrapping his wrists behind his back quickly before standing to remove the lid off a nearby dumpster bin.
“Help me get him in,” he said, lifting the man’s upper body. Sokak got his legs, and in the man went, laying atop a bed of old restaurant slop. Zuko closed the lid on him, and turned back. “We don’t have much time. Let’s go.”
And before he could say anything more, the other took off. Sokka ran after him, but he couldn’t help the strange sinking feeling he had in his chest.

--

They’d made it to the lake, and by now the moon was high in the sky. They’d found the place where they’d been told of the back entrance. The two opened the metal hatch. Zuko ducked his head to peer around, before flipping over and in.
“We’re clear,” he said. Sokka hurried down, but one of the bars were covered in some algae, and his foot slipped. He might have crashed to the floor, but Zuko caught him, drawing him close. Sokka froze there, his eyes wide, this was the closest they’d ever been.
Zuko let go of him in the next moment.
“Good catch,” he said.
“Watch your step,” he said, his voice void of any semblance of warmth or familiarity, and turned away. Sokka followed behind quietly, finding it hard to tear his gaze away from the back of Zuko’s head. He wished he could take off the mask. Zuko was normally hard to read by his tone alone, and with the mask it made him even more walled off.
They quietly continued down the halls, which were lit in a soft green lights by the glowing crystals that lined the halls. Sokka glanced at Zuko once or twice more before he chanced to speak.
“Hey, are you...mad at me?”
“What makes you think that?” said Zuko, though his tone was still cold. Zuko tried to remember if this was his normal voice, to something more angry.
“Well I...I understand if you’re still angry at me, for lying to you.”
Zuko stopped then, an act that made Sokka jump slightly. He turned his head back, but the mask gave no emotion. In the pause, Sokka wondered if Zuko might speak, but he merely turned his head back and started walking.
“...right,” breathed Sokka, “I guess we can talk about that later.”

They continued on for a bit longer until they heard footsteps. On instinct, Sokka reached for a door, and after quickly peering in, motioned for Zuko to follow him. Zuko backed into the shadows with him, and Sokak left the door open a crack for them to peer out. They heard the voices before they saw them, and Sokka’s eyes widened in realization.
“...that you want to cover for him, but you seriously can’t tell us anything?” came the voice of Aang.
“The Avatar,” Sokka could just hear Zuko whisper from behind him. He tensed, but waited, unwilling to move unless Zuko did.
“I trust Sokka,” shrugged Toph. “He said he’d catch up, and he will.”
“I just can’t believe him,” he heard his sister mutter. Oh boy, he was going to be in some serious hot water if he didn't pull this off right.
“Oh,” Zuko said softly in his ear, “so I’m not the only one you lied to?”
Sokka could just feel the curved tooh of the mask pressed into his neck from the proximity of Zuko’s head to his. Sokka didn’t speak, and much to his surprise, they were both still as the team, and Jet’s team, passed by without incident. When the voices and footsteps faded, Zuko was the first to get up and open the door and step out. He turned back, watching his tether stand up as well.
“I didn't lie,” said Sokka, brushing himself off. “I just asked Toph to cover for me.”
“So you got someone else to lie for you?”
Sokka frowned at him, growing suddenly bitter.
“I said I was sorry,” he defended, making sure his voice was still quiet. “And you didn’t have to help me if you didn’t want to.”
“And how far would you have gotten without me?” he asked, tilting his head to the side, the sight an eerie one to Sokka. “...that’s what I thought. Hurry up,” said Zuko, and turned and began down the hall once more.
Sokka took a step toward him, but paused, putting a hand to his chest. Zuko noticed his hesitation and turned back.
“What’s wrong?” asked Zuko.
“I...sorry, my chest got tight. It’s gone, I think? Kinda hard to breath, though,” he blinked, alarmed by it.
“Will that be a problem?”
“No,” said Sokka, shaking his head, noticing that the feeling was already starting to pass. “No, let’s go.”
They hurried alone, and it was a few more moments before the strangled feeling completely left him.

They raced down the halls, when they came to a stop. The door they sought stood before them, and Sokka eagerly opened it. He smiled, relieved at the sight of Appa, who picked their big furry head up to look at him.
“Appa!” he exclaimed with relief. The bison stood, and Sokka could see that the great animal was bound in chains by each foot. Don’t worry buddy, we’re gonna get you out of here. Aang’s gonna be so happy to see--!”
He felt something hard strike the back of his head and he fell over, unconscious.

Chapter Text

Zuko stepped over him, and knelt down, dragging him into the room the rest of the way before closing the door behind him. Appa roared, pulling at their restraint as they tried to get free, possibly to help Sokka. Zuko had been busy removing Sokka’s white waist sash and using it to bind his wrists behind his back.
“He’s only knocked out,” said Zuko, to Appa, but possibly more to himself. “I’m going to need you both if I want the Avatar to hand himself over, after all.”
He stood back up when he was finished, and turned to Appa, his mind already working on the next step.
The door opened behind him, and he swiftly turned, ready to defend his prize.
His uncle stood there, closing the door quietly behind them. He was quiet, tense, as he stared directly at his nephew. After a weighted pause, Iroh cast a quick glance to Sokka’s body.
“Oh Zuko…” sighed Iroh, his disappointment on the verge of sadness rather than anger. He was surprised, as he didn’t know how his Uncle knew exactly who was under the mask, save for the fact that he might have been tailing them the entire time. He took it off, there was no point in hiding anymore, and asked,
“What are you doing here?”
“I might ask you the same thing,” he said, his gaze flicking up from the unconscious boy and to his nephew. “Though rather, I should ask what your plan is now? You have an unconscious body-- dead weight to carry, and the Avatar’s bison. Where do you propose to keep said hostages? Our new apartment? Should I put a pot of tea on for them?”
“Bringing him along and knocking him out was my only option, he was just going to tell his friends eventually, I had to make sure--”
“If he had wanted to tell his friends of you, he would have, instead of spending everyday with you,” he corrected, sternly.
He went quiet for a moment, looking down to Sokka, but he shook his head and turned it then to Appa.
“...first we’ll have to get the bison out of here--”
“And then what?” Iroh shouted, unable to contain his ire any longer, his disappointment obvious. “You never think these things through. This is exactly what happened when you captured the Avatar at the North Pole. You had him, and then you had nowhere to go.”
“I would have figured something out,” he argued, quietly, his pride wounded at his words.
“No! If your tether hadn’t been there to find you, you would have frozen to death.”
“My tether lied to me!” Zuko shot back. “He hasn’t done anything but keep me from my honor. I won’t let him get in the way any more, he won’t keep me from my destiny, Uncle”
“Is it your own destiny? Or is it a destiny someone else has tried to force on you?”
“Stop it, Uncle. I have to do this.”
“I’m begging you, Prince Zuko, It’s time for you to look inward and begin asking yourself the big questions. Who are you, and what do you want?”
His mind was spinning; the Avatar, his honor, his banishment, the tea shop, his home, Sokka, his lies, his smile--
Too much. It was too much, and he had no plan.
Enraged, he threw down his swords and his mask. He had nowhere to go, and the Avatar was about to get away again. Home had never seemed so impossibly far.
He looked to the bison, hope draining from him as it watched him carefully, still growling lowly and cautious from his sudden movement. His gaze fell to Sokka, tied up and faced away from him. He could feel his uncle waiting patiently for an answer behind him. His shoulders fell as he turned back.
“He lied...uncle,” he said, trying to hold back his sadness.
“Why does that trouble you so, my nephew?”
Zuko paused, returning his gaze to Sokka.
“I trusted him...but if he lied about that, then does that mean this past week...everything we’ve done…?” the words caught in his throat and he shook his head, unable to put to words the horribly tight feeling in his chest.
Despite this, his uncle seemed to understand, and quietly, mournfully, approached him. Gently, but firmly, as if to show that he could be strong for his nephew in this time, he gripped Zuko’s shoulder.
“I know,” he nodded, “it was a deep breach of trust. But if he had not lied, would you have enjoyed these days with him, find peace as you did, and come to know him as you do now?”
The answer hung in between them, but the prince could not find his voice.
“Your time spent together was the happiest I’ve seen you in years. Your tether can be there for you, if you let them, but you must also show them that they can trust you, too.”
Trust, Zuko thought bitterly, how could such a delicate thing grow in war-torn times, when his very honor hinged on the capture of the person his tether fought so bravely to defend.
“What Sokka and I want are two different things,” he said, shaking his head. He grabbed the space above his chest, where a terrible tight feeling had lingered since he’d been told the truth. “but...I just don’t think I can fight him anymore.”
“Perhaps then...it is time to let it go.”
The answer stunned him, and for a moment his eyes widened, the rest of his face fighting to keep neutral, to accept his new destiny. He swallowed the terrible grief that swelled in him then, threatening to spill over and streak down his face. He railed against it, allowing the logic to take over, allowing the next plan to set in before emotions could muddy his judgement further.
“Then first,” he said, pausing to clear his throat, “we have to free the bison.”
Zuko and his uncle made quick word of the bison’s shackles, freeing the creature. As soon as the last shackle was off, Appa instinctively moved to stand over Sokka. The bison bared their teeth, and huffed out, warning both against even thinking of coming near Sokka.
“I suppose I’ll let you handle this,” said Iroh, “I’ll watch the door, but be quick. I don’t imagine we can take on an entire army of Dai Li agents ourselves.”
The man left before there was room for argument, to which, Zuko would offer none. He too knew the present danger they were in should they be discovered. He turned back to the fierce creature before him.
“Appa...that’s your name, right?” he began, but it gave no indication it heard him. “I’m going to get out of this place now.” Zuko picked up one of his blades, hoping to use it to cut Sokka’s binds, but stopped when he heard the low growling of the Bison grow louder. “I’m not gonna hurt him,” said Zuko, “I need to free his hands.”
Appa didn’t move, and only seemed to grow more agitated. The sword would make quick work of the waist sash binds, but there was no getting near Sokka’s current guard with a weapon in his hand. Fine, he reasoned, he’d do it the hard way. He had a feeling he shouldn’t firebend in front of the animal either.
As soon as he placed the sword back down, Appa seemed to relax slightly. Relieved he began to approach him again, moving slowly, carefully, making sure the animal could see both his hands, and knew he wasn’t attacking. The bison remained. And Zuko could go no further.
“I’m sorry, I hurt your friend,” started Zuko, unsure what else to do. “I was...angry. But I’m not now, so please, let me help him.”
There were a few tense moments of nothing passed, and Zuko worried he’d have to take Sokka by force if the bison didn’t relent. Every moment they spent there was another chance someone might discover them. Then, finally, Appa backed off from over the unconscious Water Tribe boy. They faced Zuko, their growling still low, as if in warning should he try anything. He slowly, carefully went to his side and began to untie him.
Sokka woke up with a groan, blinking in the light a few times as his vision came into focus, and suddenly found his hand, that apparently had been bound, were now being freed. He pulled them in, feeling how sore his wrists were, and how terribly his head throbbed. Carefully he pushed himself off the ground, and gelt himself gently grabbed by the arm, helping him sit up right.
“Zuko...?” he wondered, looking to him, still a bit foggy. Zuko wasn’t wearing his mask, and in the fogginess, he felt relieved that he could finally see his face. He’d felt so distant from him before, and now to see him with concern in his golden eyes made him feel much more at ease.
“Can you stand?”
“Yeah, I think so. What happened?” he asked. The other offered their arm and helped pull Sokka to his feet.
“I can explain later,” said Zuko, “but for now...you need to leave with Appa.”
“Right, Appa!” he turned to look at the bison, who seemed very much relieved that Sokka was up and talking again. He turned back to Zuko with a look of relief, “You’re coming with, right?”
“No,” he said.
“Huh? But...why not?”
Zuko looked away, collecting his thoughts, or perhaps gathering his courage, before he spoke.
“I can’t tell you, not now. Find me after and...I’ll tell you everything. Understand?”
Sokka gave a half nod, stunned by Zuko’s words. The former prince continued,
“For now, we have to figure out how to get both you and the bison out of here.”
Sokka’s mind seemed to shift gears, though with some pain as he held his head and turned to look up at the ceiling.
“Unless I’m mistaken, we’re not so far down under the lake. Appa should be able to break through the ceiling surface and through the water with his own airbending. It’ll be a rough ride, but I’m pretty sure we can make it to the surface if I hold on tight enough.”
“Then make sure you do,” nodded Zuko, and turned and began to hurry away.
“Wait!” called Sokka, and his tether couldn’t help but stop, and slowly turned back.
“...you don’t have to leave. We can do this together.”
He paused, a bitter expression donning his face that he strongly pushed back.
“You...have no idea…” he trailed off, but shook his head. “Just go,” and with that he turned and hurried out the room, sealing the door so that the inevitable flooding of the lake water wouldn't trap him in there.
Alone, Sokka put a hand on his chest wondering exactly what the strange phantom pain was that resided there. He pushed it out of his mind in the next moment and climbed atop Appa, he had a rough ride ahead of him.

Sokka had taken Appa’s reins, but really he was simply using them to hold on. Appa, being a sky bison, had some instinctual knowledge of airbending, and had used it to mostly topple and crack the foundations of the earthen room they’d been held in. He held his arm up, shielding his face from the falling debris that cascaded down from the above, watching with slight panic as water began to spew out front he cracks and rain down, growing into powerful waterfalls that began filling the room around them.
“That looks weak enough to me,” said Sokka, looking about. “Alright buddy, what say you burst outta this place now?”
Appa gave a great roar of agreement. It sunk low at first, and Sokka took this time to raise his arm and shield himself. Then with a powerful leap and the help of airbending, Appa knocked it’s head and horns into the ceiling and continued to propel forward and up. The debris knocked into Sokka, followed by the powerful blast of water that threatened to knock him off. He held on, holding his breath until the two emerged from the swirling chaos, and Sokka finally let out his breath.
“You did it!” he yelled, patting the bison. “Alright, let's see if we can find the rest of…” his eyes caught the sight of a great fight taking place on the other side of the lake, noticeable by the powerful display of the mountains shifting from earthbending. “Sometimes it becomes pretty obvious how we keep getting found by the enemy,” Sokka muttered to himself. A small body shot up in front of his vision, wide eyed and with two big ears. “Momo!” he greeted happily. He stuck out his arm for the creature to land on, and smiling, said, “let the others know we’re coming, huh, Momo?”
The little creature nodded, and falling backward, opened up their winged arms and allowed the wind to guide them back to the ground.

He took up the reins and led Appa further up and into the sky, using the bright sun as the enemy’s blind spot.

Meanwhile, below, his group was surrounded by the Dai Li. Katara, Aang, and Toph, while powerful benders, were severely outnumbered. Long Feng, the leader of the Dai Li, stood looking down at them with an air of victory. They were backed up against one another, when suddenly Momo flew over to Aang.
“What is it, Momo?” asked Aang. The lemur chattered and gurgled, catching Aang’s attention before flying back up into the sky. Then, a speck at first, the gang watched a great body was soaring right toward them and the Dai Li that surrounded them. “Appa!” Aang exclaimed, but as the great bison drew closer his smile widened into a look of surprise. “And Sokka?!”
“What?” said Katara.
The Bison landed and began swatting and attacking the agents that tried to fight him. Sokka powerfully leapt off of Appa, raising his club he’d had strapped to him and brought it down on the conical hats of one of the agents-- spinning around just in time to bat away the earthen glove that tried to apprehend him from behind.
The fight ensued, and the team jumped to Sokka’s side as they fended the rest of them off. The fight swiftly ended when Appa caught Long Feng by the ankle and spat him out and to the lake.
“Appa!” cried Aang, who immediately ran and leapt up to hug his bison's head. The great beast was at peace, laying down and receiving the warm embrace of his smaller friends. Katara walked up next to Sokka, smiling as she tapped his shoulder. He turned from Appa’s soft fur to his sister’s relieved and amazed look.
“Sokka...how on earth…?” she asked, one hand gesturing to Appa. Sokka turned back and stroked the bison’s fur, realizing this would have been the part he would have told them about Zuko. It played out in his mind, how they would have been apprehensive at first, but welcoming when Sokka would tell them what they’d accomplished together. Yet, a tight feeling in his chest warned him to be silent, for there were darker questions brewing in his mind, like how exactly he’d been knocked out, and why Zuko had, at the last moment, left him.
“I...had help,” said Sokka. “That contact I told you about earlier, it wasn't a lie. He was supposed to join me, but we got separated.”
“Well, can you even tell us who they are?”
He shook his head.
“Are they still in trouble?”
“No, he’s very capable of getting out by himself…” he lingered on that worry, despite his words, “Besides-- it was his choice, and we don’t have time to worry about that. Now that we have Appa back, I think it’s time to speak to the Earth King.”

--

Sokka could not believe the lucky streak he and the others had experience in the last few days. Appa had been reunited with the team, the Dai Li had been overthrown, and the Earth King was in full support of the invasion during the solar eclipse. Everything was going so well, except that the last time he’d seen Zuko was under Lake Laogai. The memory gave him an uneasy feeling. It had been two days since that night. He knew he’d been struck against the head, had assumed it was a Dai Li agent catching them by surprise, but when he’d woken up he’d seen no one else around them. A strange suspicion nagged at the back of his head, specifically where he’d been struck; while the angle and proximity seemed right, he could not bring himself to so openly suspect Zuko of the action.
Still, he’d been so distant, so willing to throw Sokka in danger. Maybe that was just how he operated, he’d never really seen Zuko and team before. He covered his face and shook his head, why was he having this back and forth with himself? Better to just do as Zuko said, find him later and let him explain.
After a quick stop inside the market row, he’d quickly hurried to the tea house. He opened the door into the small establishment, his eyes scanning the empty tables with confusion. Were they closed? He wondered, stepping inside.
“Ah! A customer!” came a voice Sokka had never heard before. A man approached him, his hands clasped together and a desperate smile pulled across his face. “Welcome, welcome! Do have a seat, our specials today are--”
“Actually, I’m looking for someone,” said Sokka, holding up his hands in defense. “Does Li or Mushy still work here?” he asked, using their cover names.
“Oh,” the man’s face fell quickly into discontent. “No. Unfortunately they were poached right out from under my nose. They’ve been given their own shop in the upper ring. *humph*,” he sniffed, folding his arms. “Some way to repay your first employer...”
“...right. Do you know where they live?” he asked.
“As far as I know, they’ll be in the third ring for another day or so..”
“Great! Give me their address.”
“...while I do that, can I interest you in some tea, perhaps?” he said, an air of unabashed slyness to his tone.
“Er...I don’t really have time to…”
“Well I don’t know if I can just give addresses of former employees out to strangers. Now customers...that’s a different story all together.”
Sokka sighed with aggravation.
“A cup, please,” he said, frustrated.
The man brightened.
“Coming right up!”

He had been forced to gulp down the entire bitter green leaf-juice before he was able to get his hands on the address, but it was worth it, despite the nauseating dry feeling on the back of his tongue.
He ran the entire way to the apartment complex. The place was wooden, and three stories tall. A hastily built complex in an impoverished ring, with many rooms. The complex wound in on itself creating a sort of alcove where a few neighbors would sit in front of their doors and gossip openly over the railing. He’d raced up to the third story and began counting the room numbers, stepping aside once to let an exhausted looking mother and her triplets through. He hurried again until he came to the room number that matched the Tea Shop owner’s directions.
Now that he was here, he wanted nothing more to turn and leave. He stood in front of it, his stomach feeling like it was twisting, his mouth dry. He raised his fist to knock, when the door opened suddenly.
Iroh stood there, surprised, and Sokka’s own expression matched his.
“H-Hi, sir. Is Li in?”
Iroh’s expression had changed from surprise, to something more complicated in Sokka’s eyes; It was thoughtful but beyond that, indiscernible, as if calculating the next move in a game of pai sho.
“He is sick,” he said at last, and softly “and cannot see anyone at the moment.”
“Uncle,” came the weak voice of someone further within, causing the older man to make a face, as if caught. “Let him in.”
The commanding tone sent shivers of dread down Sokka’s spine, and he wondered why that might be. The look on the old man's face seemed as if he were weighing the consequences of his next action. He stepped back into the room to pick up a conical hat, turning his gaze back to the Water Tribe boy in the next moment.
“I must leave to pick up more medicine,” he said, “So I will leave you two be,” he stepped further into the hall, forcing the other to step back and out of his way. He entered the room, closing the door behind him. He leaned against the door, looking down at Zuko, who was sitting up, his arm hooked over his own knee as one arm struggled to support him. Sokka stepped forward and knelt forward to help him, but Zuko waved him off and sat up the rest of the way, crossing his legs. His breathing was labored, his face pale and his forehead was so drenched in sweat that his hair stuck to it.
“What happened?” asked Sokka.
“Uncle says it’s just a fever, that I’ll be able to beat it, but I have to sweat it out.”
Sokka watched him, noticing his gaze was slightly unfocused, perhaps from the delirium of fever, but through it Sokka could see him struggling. Finally, and with some effort, Zuko spoke again.
“Sokka I--”
“Oh, hold on,” the other interrupted excitedly. Zuko blinked as Sokka reached into the fold of his robe, taking out a small book. It was no bigger than the size of his palm, the backing woven together with red thread that kept the pages in place. “Here,” he said, offering it over.
Zuko looked from Sokka, to the book, and back, confused.
“...nice book.”
“Uhh, it’s for you,” he said, quirking an eyebrow as he smiled. With a nod of thanks, as if he could not speak in that moment, he received the book and opened it to a random page. His eyes scanned over a few lines.
“...poetry?”
“Yeah. It’s a short read, I know, but we said we wanted to read something together at some point right?” he smiled. “And...it’s...kinda an apology for...you know...lying,” his voice had grown more, hesitant, and small, though a frail, apologetic smile remained on his face. Stunned, Zuko looked from Sokka, down to the little book, and back up to him. He shook his head and closed it, setting it aside.
“Why did you lie?”
Sokka’s face fell, and he let out a breath.
“You know why…” he said, his tone defeated.
“I want to hear it anyway.”
“Because....man, because...I guess I just wanted to protect you.”
“Protect me from what?”
“You,” he exclaimed. Zuko stared back in stunned confusion as Sokka continued. “Because hunting the Avatar makes you into this whole other person-- this guy I don’t know. You’re angry, and cold, and it’s like I can’t recognize you, and... it makes me think you can’t see me either….” his voice dipped down then, softer, close to a whisper as if admitting it to himself as well, “To be honest, you scare me when you get like that.”
Zuko listened, in shock. He’d willingly fought Sokka openly before, had thrown fire at him, and had attacked, but Sokka had never looked like he feared him-- save for that moment on the beach in their dreams. He hadn’t recognized Sokka at that moment, not that he forgot who he was, but had so aggressively attacked him like he were an enemy. While that was in the past now, it came back to him then with some sad understanding, some regretful insight. That night in Lake Laogai had been no different.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “I didn’t realize…” his voice dropped, feeling very weary suddenly. His mind traced back to that night, how he’d so easily harmed Sokka for the chance-- the slimmest chance-- at capturing the Avatar. He looked at Sokka, and the other looked back, waiting patiently. Did he know he’d done that? He certainly didn’t seem suspicious of him. Guilt coiled in the pit of his stomach as he spoke, “Why do you try so hard for me?” he asked. “Why are you so determined? After everything I’ve done? Is it...” he hesitated, dreading the answer to the question, but compelled to ask all the same, “Is it because we’re tethered?”
The question seemed to drain Sokka immediately, allowing for his shoulders to go slack as he studied Zuko’s face for any semblance of understanding. Everything he did, his efforts, his jokes, he gave it all and freely, and for Zuko to think it was out of obligation did hurt him in some small way, but it more of drew up pity. Perhaps this was why the other had been so shocked when he’d lied, maybe he’d hurt Zuko deeper than he’d initially realized. His gaze wandered to the angry red mark that covered half his face; how different would Zuko had been if he hadn’t initially denied him, if he’d never left? What he’d poured into Zuko, that fleeting trust, he was now pouring back into him. His feelings for him, his actions, could Zuko not see them, his intentions behind them? Certainly it had taken himself some time to catch up with why he did what he did, but in that moment, he wanted to be absolutely clear.
To Zuko’s question, Sokka shook his head and shifted closer to him.
“I’ve wondered that too,” said Sokka. This caused Zuko some panic for a moment and he remained still, his heart beating wildly in his chest, waiting for the fall of Sokka’s disappointment in him. “Sometimes I ask myself why do I keep sticking my neck out for this guy? But every time, I think about us, when we were young, and before we really thought about this war. I think about when you’d laugh, and when you’d tell me how you always wanted to see me in the awake world and have adventures with me. We had some while we were here. I haven’t seen you smile like you have in so long, and to be honest, I can’t get you out of my mind.”
Sokka let out a breath, and Zuko reeled from the admission. Sokka couldn't get him out of his head? Was that bad? Was he suspicious of him?
“Zuko…I don’t care about destiny. I don't care about fate, or what Iwei or any other spirit wants from us. I don’t stick by you because I’m your tether. I do it because we’re friends. You were my first friend, my best friend. You still are.”
“So...we’re friends?”
Sokka gave a laugh, it was both humored but pained.
“Did you think we weren’t this whole time?” he asked.
“No I did-- well, we’d never said-- stated what we were so…” he was growing red, but he’d tried to mask his embarrassment with a stern look, unable to meet Sokka’s eyes. “It’s good to establish.”
“Well good,” nodded Sokka, who reached out and gently placed his hand over the other’s. He felt his heart thump hard against his chest, and while he wanted to push for more, he knew better than to try and rush Zuko into anything. Friend was enough for now. He held his tongue, but could not help the adoring look he was giving the other boy, whose gold eyes flitted from him to the floor with a nervous grin.
“What?”
“Oh-- ah. Sorry, nothing,” he recovered, removing his hand to rub the back of his neck with embarrassment. “Erm, listen Zu, I know we’ve been through... a lot,” he breathed the last part, feeling the weight of their history linger in the air. “But I know you’re struggling, and I know I wasn’t there to help you before. I’m sorry. But I can be there for you now, if you let me.”
Zuko quietly considered his words, folding his hands in his lap and lacing his fingers together as he did. He traced small circles with his thumb on the knuckles of his finger as he weighed the meaning of each decision. Round they went, the two of them. A dance, and every time they met, a new experience. Sad but happy, frustrating and frightening. A never ending cycle that always ended in pain, in regret, and apology owed put off till their next meeting. It had been Sokka to approach him after the North, to warn him against his sister. It had been Sokka would found him in this almost impossibly large city and suggest friendship, equal ground. When he took a moment to think of Sokka’s actions, he realized he was risking so much to even see him every day. He’d seemed so tired some days, and he was sure he’d had been coming up with excuses to prevent his friends from joining him on his outings. How much did they trust him now, and was he, Zuko, really worth it? How could he make such an effort up to Sokka?
He sat on his own precipice in his mind, looking over it with some hesitation. To leap, to relent and give in to their friendship, it meant giving up every last hope he had of home. But what hope was there really, he thought bitterly. His father cast him out, his sister lied to lock him up, and he’d been chased deeper into the earth kingdom to change his name and hide behind the walls of Ba Sing Se. What hope was there that even kept him on this ledge?
“...okay,” said Zuko, his voice gruff at first from disuse.
“Hmm?” Sokka turned his head to him.
“Okay...I’ll stop. I’ll stop chasing the Avatar,” he said plainly.
“You...you mean it?” he said, in a gasp of a whisper, a smile donning on his face.
“Yes,” he nodded. “I...don’t want to fight you anymore.”
Sokka’s smile went from quiet disbelief, and then up pure joy as he wrapped his arms around Zuko.
“You...have... no idea how happy that makes me!” Sokka exclaimed, hugging him tightly.
“Ack! Sokka! Sokka--! I’m still sick!”
“Oh-- right, right, sorry,” he smiled sheepishly, backing off. Zuko let out a breath as the ache in his bones died down. He looked over to Sokka, who was still smiling so happily, tears looking as though they were forming in his eyes. Zuko looked away, embarrassed by how open the other was with his emotions.
“Don’t cry.” said Zuko.
“Nope-- yeah, not crying. Definitely,” he said, wiping at his face and taking in a breath. “I’m, uh…” Sokka laughed again, shaking his head, “Sorry, I just can’t believe it, is all.”
“I’m telling the truth.”
“No, I know,” he said. “I know you are, I believe you. I’m just...I’m so relieved,” he sighed.
They went quiet, and in that moment. As Sokka seemed to be taking a moment to really let the other’s words sink in, Zuko was studying his features. When he was happy, Sokka’s eyes lit up like sunlight dancing across the ocean’s surface. Perhaps it was the delirium of the fever, or it was the fact that such a heavy life decision had been made that he was trying to ignore, but he wanted to reach out and turn Sokka’s gaze to him. He lifted his hand to him falling just short when Sokka turned to him, inquiring innocently at Zuko’s raised hand.
“Hmm?” he asked.

The sudden and immediate sound of the door being opened sent the two boys flying apart from one another. Sokka scooted back at least a good foot, sitting upright, his legs tucked respectfully under him and his fits resting atop his knees. Zuko had also attempted some loose and casual posture, but was sure the bright red of his cheeks gave it away. Perhaps they could blame it on fever.
Iroh stepped in, not even looking to them, but going to the kitchenette, as if avoiding looking at them all together.
“Oh, Sokka,” started the old man. “You’re still here. Can I offer you some tea?” he asked as he placed his bag on the counter.
“Ah, no thanks,” said Sokka, fighting to keep his voice even. He cleared his throat then as his mind moved to more pressing matters. “That reminds me though, I’ll be gone for a few days starting tomorrow. I’ve gotten word on where my dad and the other men of my tribe are. I’m finally going to see him again.”
“Oh? Has your father been gone long?” asked Iroh, already starting a pot.
“Four years,” said Sokka, and he turned back to Zuko. “I’ll be back, but it might be a few days.”
“Sure,” nodded Zuko. “Erm...we’ll have moved by then. You can find me at the Jasmine Dragon, Uncle’s new shop, when you get back.”
“Yeah, sure,” Sokka nodded, before standing. “I won’t be gone long,” he said, heading to the door. “Thank you for your hospitality,” he said, bowing to Iroh, who gave him a nod in return. He’d already stepped out, when Zuko suddenly rushed to the door. Sokka turned back in surprise.
“Erm, about your friends,” said Zuko, “let’s...I’m not ready to…”
Sokka smiled and nodded at him, understanding.
“We’ll go at your pace,” he said.
“Thanks.”
“Of course,” he nodded back, and turning, walked away. Zuko watched him go a moment, before he pulled his head back in and closed the door. The weight of his decision came crashing down on him then, but he strongly held it back. He was choosing this, he told himself, this was his choice, despite it feeling like the only option. Then, of course, there was the fact that he had been the one to knock Sokka out at Lake Laogai, a fact he’d thought he was going to reveal, but in the excitement of everything, he’d out right forgotten. It was amazing how easily they could get caught up in one another, thought Zuko, amazing and quietly alarming.
“I see you are feeling better,” called Iroh. The teen lifted his gaze to his uncle then, embarrassed as if caught. “You explained what happened to him, I imagine?”
“I...forgot,” he quietly admitted.
“Hmm,” his Uncle gave a small noise of disapproval. “Just remember what I said.”
“Which part?” he muttered under his breath.
“Trust,” said his uncle as he placed the kettle on the stove.

--

The clouds floated lazily past Sokka from where he lay. Appa had no saddle, but the ride was smooth enough that he didn’t feel a need to hold on. Besides, he felt so light that he was sure if he fell he’d just gently float down. Well, scientifically he knew this not to be true, but he’d quietly allow himself some delusion, as a treat. After all, everything had gone so incredibly well that their lucky streak even extended to Zuko choosing not to hunt them any more. Now he was off to see his father, learn from the men of his tribe, as well as explain the Solar Eclipse invasion, what could go wrong?

Aang had dropped him off nearby, allowing him a moment to gather his courage before heading down. A few words were exchanged, both instilling some confidence in each other, and they parted. He walked down, and when he walked into the camp itself, he found himself feeling utterly out of place. These men, all dressed in Southern Water Tribe garments, should have felt familiar, but they’d been gone so long, it felt strange and new. Not new, but surreal, like stepping into some story, living some dream he’d never knew he wished so strongly to be true, and for one terrifying moment, he felt himself out of place and welcomed, a stranger to his own tribe. Their stares of wonder quickly turned to recognition as they dropped what they were doing to greet their youngest of the Tribe, and the Chief's son. And with their smiles, their friendly jabs, and their remarks at how much he’d grown, he felt himself once more at home.
They quickly directed him to where his father was, within the big and obvious tent meant for meetings. He paused a moment while outside, and after taking a breath, parted the flaps of the tent to walk in.
His father sat there, looking almost as he’d remembered him when he was young. But Sokka had grown, his father no longer looked as tall as he use to, and he also noticed that the man had thinned out a bit with age and from years of fighting. Still, his eyes and his smile were as warm as he’d always remembered them, and when his father spoke his name he knew it was with pride.

--

Zuko’s fever had broken as early as the next morning, just in time to help his Uncle move into the new apartment, and lend a hand with the opening of his new shop. The Jasmine Dragon’s opening was that day, and since breaking from the fever, Zuko had found himself in a quiet peace. Though, the tranquillity held an odd tinge of loss. He’d never felt this sort of nothing before. Not happy, per say, just not angry, or scared, or suspicious, or even worried. He’d burned out the fever, and it felt like it had fried all his feelings as well. Perhaps this was a part of the process, he wondered, a clean slate where he could grow new ones, create his new identity. It left him feeling so hollow.
He rose early, and dressed. The opening was that day, and there were still preparations that needed to be made before any customers could be seated. He put on his gold, black and green cheonshan. He went to the mirror, his eyes avoiding the scar as it normally did when he looked at his reflection. Yet, that morning his gaze was pulled, not to one side or the other, but looking at himself, entirely.
His name was Li now. He worked in a tea shop, and desired for a peaceful life.
He ignored the strange, painful tug he felt in his chest. The feeling troubled him, for it would come and go, and often when he was alone with his thoughts of home.
His eyes shifted to the little black book that sat atop the dresser just below the mirror. He stared at it, remembering the night they had accidentally barged into a private Haiku reading. He reached out and opened the small book, opening it to the first page. He was surprised to see a short hand written note at the bottom corner of the page. Sokka’s handwriting was small, messy, but just discernible if one squinted.
“I read some already, hope you don’t mind. My favorite’s on page ten. -Sokka”
Curious, he began flipping through the pages, but a movement outside his room caught his attention. He didn’t have much time before he and his Uncle needed to open their new shop, he’d read the poem later. So, he quietly stuffed it into the fold of his cheonshan, comforted by the gentle weight. It was not heavy, did not pull at the fold to indicate anything was there, and was easily ignored.
Dressed and ready for the day, he stepped out of his room. The sun shone into the living room of their new apartment. The window looked out onto a small communal garden. Zuko hadn’t explored it yet, and it didn’t even occur to him. Almost like it was a painted mural, beautiful but something one could graze their eyes over without much thought. His uncle was currently in the small kitchenette in the back, stirring something in a large silver pot. Zuko walked closer, saying,
“Something smells good,” said Zuko, walking over.
“It’s jook,” his uncle answered. “I’m not sure you would like it.”
Iroh was stirring the pot of some congi, which Zuko had come to know as a fragrant and flavorful rice porridge. It would be a recipe they’d try out for the shop, but currently there was nothing else added to flavor it. He drew closer, sniffing the pot.
“Actually, it smells delicious. I’d love a bowl, Uncle,” he said, picking up a clean and empty bowl. His uncle was surprised, but not terribly. After a few days of nothing but water, tea and broth, he was sure any substantial food smelled good to the boy. Still, he served him up a dish without argument, watching in quiet stun as his nephew politely accepted it without qualm or argument.
“Now that your fever is gone, you seem different somehow,” said Iroh, still stirring.
“It’s a new day,” he said, as if waiving off the comment, and went to eat at the window. “We’ve got a new apartment, new furniture, and today’s the grand opening of your new tea shop. Things are looking up, Uncle.”
Iroh smiled at him, and turned away. And Zuko looked down to the little garden, thinking of nothing, but enjoying the quiet.

--

The shop’s opening was a resounding success. Tables filled up as soon as the doors opened. They had wait staff, busboys, hosts to direct guests to tables, cooks, and of course, his Uncle handled the most important part himself, the tea. The work was long, but the day was short, and before he knew it, it was already late afternoon. He had grown accustomed to waiting tables by now, and the work emptied his mind, allowing him to ignore the strange tug at his chest.
Then the crowd had slowed, his Uncle pulled him aside to simply stop, and look to their success, wishing to share the celebration of this moment of their new life.
“Who thought when we came to this city as refugees, that I’d end up owning my own tea shop,” said his Uncle. He turned to his nephew then, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Follow your passion, and life will reward you.”
The words had unintentionally stung at him, and it made him feel guilty. This was his Uncle’s moment, he shouldn’t have such feelings, such doubts, not when he had promised to change.
“Congratulations, Uncle.”
“I am very thankful.”
“You deserve it,” and he meant this. The man had been so patient with him, had suffered through exile with him, and before that, had led a life full of success and terrible loss. This was his Uncle’s oasis in life, and he could see it clearly. He would grow used to it, he was sure. “The Jasmine Dragon will be the best tea shop in the city.”
“No, I’m thankful because you decided to share this special day with me. It means more than you know.”
Zuko reached out and hugged his Uncle then. He was truly proud of the man, and to be standing in the reward of his endeavors was great solace. He hoped quietly that he might too one day feel as fulfilled as his Uncle seemed.

The Jasmine Dragon promptly closed at eight o’clock at night. Zuko helped close by sweeping the carpet, and his uncle made some last minute table settings so that tomorrow's opening shift would go smoothly. Nearly finished, both uncle and nephew were startled to see someone approach their shop. Zuko at first thought it was a prospective customer who was not yet familiar with their hours-- their previous shop had been open until late into the night some days. Yet, this man was dressed like a servant, and held a scroll. The man promptly approached Iroh, and with a bow, handed over the scroll saying,
“A message from the royal palace,” and then promptly left.
Clearly startled, Iroh took the note and opened it. After reading over a few lines, a smile drew across his face.
“I...I can’t believe it.”
“What is it, Uncle?”
“Great news! We’ve been invited to serve tea to the Earth King!”
Well...things certainly were looking up. He continued sweeping as his uncle ran off, possibly to collect his finest leaves to serve his majesty the next day.

--

He’d spent nearly two days with the men of his tribe, and Sokka found himself at home almost immediately. While still considerably younger, and not quite involved in most conversations, the familiar noise of it made him feel at peace.
It was during dinner, when the group of men were chatting amongst themselves, some drinking, some roaring with laughter at the stories of other, that Sokka’s father pulled him aside and away from the happy scene. Together they entered the chief’s tent.
“What’s up?” asked Sokka to his father. The man smiled back at him and shook his head, throwing a hand to a floor cushion.
“I simply wanted a moment alone with my son,” he said. “I want to hear how things have been for you, the tribe, and your sister, of course.”
Sokka and his father sat, and he was happy to regale his father with tales of their adventures, not forgetting to add in the times he proved himself useful or cunning. His father listened with great interest and pride hearing the deeds of his children, who so boldly followed the Avatar to help maintain peace. Sokka had finished catching his father up, when he noticed a more thoughtful look come over the man’s face. Hakkoda cleared his throat, shifting slightly to catch his knees within his elbows and looping his arms around them.
“That’s all very good,” he nodded. “Very good.”
Sokka smiled, but he couldn't help but feel his father was struggling with something.
“Ah...and, along these adventures,” his father continued, “you haven’t...met any particular someone...have you?”
Sokka blinked, the question was phrased so awkwardly he was unsure what he meant by them.
“We met a lot of people,” he said.
Hakkoda sucked at his teeth a moment as he struggled to rephrase the question. Then he shook his head, dropping it immediately and allowing his legs to fall back into a crossed position, leaning forward.
“Sokka, when you were seven...well...do you remember anything in particular about that time?”
“...the time we went ice fishing together was nice?”
He put a hand to his face, and now even Sokka was worried that he was failing in some way.
“Oh...boy,” he sighed. “I’m sorry...you’re mother was better at this than I am.”
Sokka’s eyebrows shot up, now clearly alarmed.
“Better at what?”
“Well...Sokka when you were seven, and I don’t know if you remember this, but when you were young you had a dream of a wolf. Now I was willing to pass the whole thing off as the imagination of a young boy but the Elders insisted on speaking to you about it and...well, do you remember anything about that?”
“Yeah…” he nodded, now fully aware of where this was heading.
“Now, don’t get me wrong, I would never mean to disrespect the late Elders, Zetti and Torrok, nor your Gran-Gran, however...well they had speculated that your dream meant that you were tethered.”
Sokka’s face fell and he turned away from his father, his gaze shifting to the ground.
“...did they?” he asked.
“They seemed adamant that such was the case, and well...I don’t put much stock into things like that, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to ask you. So...um…meet anyone like that?”
Sokka sat a moment, weighing the options in his mind. Here he was, surrounded by men of his tribe, fighting everyday to protect the coast and the pass from Fire Nation invasion, and his tether was their former prince. Still-- he reasoned with himself, still Zuko had promised to change. Maybe he couldn't help where he was born, or who he was born to, but Zuko had promised him, and Sokka wanted to believe him. If he truly was to believe in his tether, then he would stand by him, even if it meant telling his father.
“I met him,” said Sokka at last. His father blinked back at him, surprised.
“Oh…” was all the man could think to say, before clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his neck. “And...ah...is he nice?”
That was a complicated question he didn't want to talk about right now.
“Did the Elders tell you anything about who they thought he was?” he asked his father instead. His father let out a telling breath, his face pulled into a wince.
“They had...suspected...the boy was Fire Nation,” he said, his voice low, as if wary of prying ears. Sokka looked to him, offering only a nod in return. His father took the confirmation with a quiet breath, perhaps in disappointment, and looked away. “I see…” he said, looking troubled.
Sokka watched his father carefully; all the happiness he’d felt being with his tribe felt like a memory now, and he almost felt as though he were standing on the opposite side of it.
“I’m...sorry,” said Sokka.
Hakkoda turned to his son, shocked.
“I knew for so long, but the meeting with the Elders was so strange I didn’t want to mention it again. And then when I learned who he was, after mom...” he shifted, his voice growing more quiet as he spoke. “I...I didn’t want you to think...I felt like...a traitor.”
His father shook his head and clasped his son’s shoulder, firmly.
“I could never, never, think my son a traitor for that.” said Hakkoda.
“...you’re not mad?” asked Sokka, his voice smaller than he meant it to be.
“Of course not,” he said. “Of course not,” and he pulled him into a strong embrace.
Four years, four long years his father had been absent in his life, fighting a war against the men who took away their mother. Four years of wondering what his father would say should he ever tell him, finally answered, and Sokka could not help but allow tears of relief to spill down his face.
“I’m so sorry,” said Hakkoda, “that you had to bear this by yourself. I’m here now. If anything happens, I’ll be here. Understand?”
Sokka nodded against his shoulder, trying to mute the hiccup to his breath and scrambling to wipe his face of tears. He withdrew from his son, clasping him on the shoulder.
“So, you met him,” he reconfirmed, “Does your sister know?”
Sokka gave him a dire look as he shook his head. His father gave a tight lipped nod of understanding.
“She will have to know at some point,” he said.
“...I’m...working on it,” said Sokka.
“Your sister can be strong willed, but is there a reason beyond that?”
Sokka hesitated.
“Can you trust him?” his father insisted.
“I...I think so.”
“Sokka…” he said, his tone warning.”
“I’m working on it,” he said, holding his hands up. “He’s...he’s made some bad decisions in the past. Done some things that haven't been exactly...helpful on our journey. But he’s promised to change, and I want to believe him.”
“But you can’t?”
The pang in the back of Sokka’s mind drew his gaze away, the very faint memory of someone stopping over his body before everything went dark pulling at his heart.
“I...I want to trust him. He’s my tether.”
The man let out a breath, and considered his words a moment before he spoke.
“Even if he is your tether, you cannot know a man by his intentions alone. You must see him for his choices. Has he made choices that give you reason to trust him?”
“Yes,” he nodded. Zuko had saved Sokka on one or two occasions, and even if there was a nagging feeling about what had happened at Lake Laogai, he’d still helped him and Appa escape.
“Has he made choices that give you reason to pause.”
Sokka didn’t speak, knowing that those far outweighed the good choices. He looked to his father, helpless as he spoke.
“He wants to change. He’s promised to change. He’s just starting, and I believe in him.”
His father didn’t seem satisfied, but nodded all the same.
“I hope he does,” his father nodded, but sadly, “I truly hope he does.”

They left the tent to rejoin the men outside. And while he was happier to be amongst the merriment once mroe, his mind could not help but turn over his feelings for Zuko; a muddied mess of regretful suspicion, and hopeful affection.

Then, the moment had come, when he was finally able to prove his worth as a man to his father. Fire Nation ships had been spotted off the coast, their destination was clearly Ba Sing Se, as they were headed toward the pass. The man would sail out, and Sokka would be with them, to deploy mines and fight the enemy, his father at his side.
Destiny had other plans.
Aang had returned much earlier than expected, infact, just a day after he'd left him. The look on his face was apologetic, but urgent, and Sokka knew with dread turning him cold, he would not be sailing out with his father and the other men to fight that night. On the way back, Aang told him that during his training with the Guru, he had received a vision that Katara was in terrible trouble. Sokka denied such things at first; Aang’s suspicions were ground in visions without evidence, but at this point, he knew better than to outright reject Aang’s intuition. They had met up with Toph, who seemed to have run into some trouble of her own, and had quickly hurried back. They’d first met up with the King, but his majesty had informed them that nothing had been amiss since their departure. So, they quickly went to investigate their apartment they shared in Ba Sing Se.

--

Locked deep underground in the crystal caverns was not where Zuko had pictured his first real meeting with Sokka’s sister. The caverns were kept lit by the crystals that jutted up from the ground, wall and ceiling, much like they’d been lit in Lake Laogai, though admittedly brighter. He’d been tossed down into this pit after discovering that the Earth King had not summoned him and his Uncle, but somehow his sister had successfully found her way into the Kingdom and was now in control of the secret police. Of course she was, he thought, bitterly. While he’d been busy hiding, she’d been busy plotting. Perhaps that was why she was always so successful. Jealousy bit bitterly at his heart. She always seemed to have the upper hand on him, in all situations. Why would this have been any different? Now he was stuck down here, and with Katara, who did not hide her dislike of him since the moment he’d been thrown in.
Katara’s incessant pacing back and forth behind him was driving him up the wall, as he kept his attention split between an opportunity for the cavern’s entrance to open again, and listening for any sudden attack from the water bender. She might not have had any water to aid her in the moment, but he knew better than to underestimate her.
“Why did they throw you in here?” she finally asked, as if fed up with the silence. He didn’t speak, better to ignore her than accidentally goad her on with an explanation. Besides, there was a lot, and he would rather Sokka had been there to be their buffer. The silence did not aid him as he’d hoped and only gave her opportunity to speak further. “Oh, wait. Let me guess-- it’s a trap, so that when Aang shows up to help me, you can finally have him in your little Fire Nation clutches.”
Clutches, he wondered, looking back at her with some incredulous gaze. What, did she really see him as such a fairy tale villain? And who the heck was Aang, he wondered. Then after a few moments, it clicked. Ah, so that was the Avatar’s name. He let out a small laugh of disbelief, it only occurred to him then that he’d never known the boy’s actual name. He’d only ever been the Avatar, even when Sokka spoke of him. So protective, so secretive, so deceptively open was the Water Tribe boy. His sister, on the other hand, was brash but fierce. If she didn’t care to so openly reveal information about the Avatar, then it meant she knew beyond a doubt-- or at least believed quite strongly-- that she could protect him absolutely.
“You’re a terrible person, you know that?” she continued, “Always following us, hunting the Avatar, trying to capture the world’s last hope for peace!”
Ah, should he even bother to tell her that this wasn’t true anymore? He had no grounds for her to believe him, so he remained quiet. Better to let Sokka explain, and he was sure he’d show up. His sister and his tether locked together, no doubt he was already on his way.
“But what do you care?” she continued, and he wished she would just stop. Her voice was distracting from their possible escape. But what she said next turned him cold. “You’re the Fire Lord’s son. Spreading war and violence and hatred is in your blood.”
His hands gripped into fists, her words stung at his heart. The memory of Lake Laogai flashed in his mind, how easily he’d knocked Sokka out. Too easily, too willing, too desperate, but also, so instinctual and precise.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he bit back, bitterly.
“I don’t? How dare you!” she retorted, facing all her fury on him. “You have no idea what this war has put me through. Me, personally,” she said. He was sure he had some idea, but remained quiet as she turned her teary face from him, her bitter, frustrated rage turning quickly to tears. “The Fire Nation took my mother away from me.”
He could not help but turn back to watch her, knelt over as she was. He knew exactly the night after it had happened, he’d been there to comfort Sokka when he’d sobbed. The boy had run into the arms of, not his enemy, but his friend. He’d wailed openly, a sound so intense and hollowing he never wanted to hear it again. They’d remained, embracing one another almost all night, and he’d listened to every hiccup, every sniffle, and tried desperately to cheer his friend up until all there was, was silence. In that silence, he remembered his confusion and dismay. His people had taken his friend’s mother away. He swore he would never understand how, why anyone could do that, but age and knowledge had laid their reason bare as he’d grown up in the palace, and it had become another war tactic.
Hearing her sobs, he began to see his life revolve in circles, now the other sibling was before him, crying from the loss of their mother, at the hands of his people and his father’s orders. She was Sokka’s sister, and he wasn’t there in this moment to help her.
“I’m sorry...that’s something we have in common.”
“...what?” he asked, wiping her eyes.
“My mother...she was taken from me as well.”
“Don’t lie,” she snapped back. “Don’t you dare.”
“I’m not lying,” he said, his voice soft, understanding of her apprehension. “She was...banished by my father.”
“...why?”
“Because...because she was trying to protect me.”

--

They had discovered the apartment to be empty.
“There’s no one else here,” said Toph.
“Katara is in trouble. I knew it,” said Aang, worried.
“Oh no…” breathed Sokka. The ugly pattern of his life budded into his consciousness; why did things always seem to spin out of control when he’d leave? His sister, as well as Zuko, were now both in dire trouble. As he fought for control over his hurried breaths, Toph turned suddenly, as if hearing something behind them.
“Wait, someone’s at the door,” said Toph, pointing back at the front entrance. A swift knock confirmed that she was right. “Actually, I know who it is,” Toph continued with a smile, walking to the door. “It’s an old friend of mine,” she told them as she opened it, revealing Zuko’s uncle Iroh. Sokka and Aang gasped as Toph greeted him. “Glad to see you’re okay,” she said.
“I met him in the woods once and knocked him down. Then he gave me tea, and some very good advice,”
Sokka’s eyes darted back to Iroh as he tried to keep his breathing even, hoping Toph would in no way catch on that he knew the old man.
“May I come in?” Iroh asked her with a polite smile. She nodded, allowing him entrance, and he stepped in. His tone turned grave in the next moment as he turned back.
“Princess Azula is here in Ba Sing Se,” he began.
“She must have Katara,” said Aang.
“She has captured my nephew, as well.”
Sokka’s eyes widened with worry, and had unintentionally taken a step toward Iroh. Toph’s head turned slightly back, obviously feeling the odd lurch of Sokka’s heart toward the news. He stepped back, fighting his breathing, but he felt the damage had been done.
“Then we’ll work together to fight Azula, to save Katara and Zuko” said Aang.
“Of course,” nodded Sokka. He did not notice the way Toph’s foot shifted against the ground, a look of slight confusion coming over her face. “Where do we start?” he asked, walking forward. Iroh gave him a nod of thanks before he spoke again.
“I brought someone along who might be able to help us.”
With that he opened the door and led them to the front patio, where he’d tied up a Dai Li agent and left him there. Sokka was unsure what the man had done to threaten the agent into staying place while unsupervised, but recalled the fearsome general’s fight at the North and knew that the man could be intimidating should he so choose. Toph had quickly and effortlessly stood the man up and kept him bound with her earthbending, the action a threat to crush him should he resist in any way. The Dai Li agent, scared out of his wits, revealed everything to them.
“Azula and Long Feng are planning a coup!” he said hurriedly, sweat pouring down his face in fear. “They’re going to overthrow the Earth King.”
“My sister and Zuko,” said Sokka, drawing out his bladed club and pointing it at the agent, fiercely “where are they keeping them?”
“I-In the crystal catacombs of old Ba Sing Se, deep beneath the palace.”
The group took off without a word to board Appa, it was the fastest way there. Hold on, I’m coming, he thought, but for who he was speaking to he wasn’t sure.

Once at the palace, and thanks to Toph’s strong seismic sight, she confirmed that there was indeed an old city, far below them. With her powerful earthbending, she opened up a tunnel that would lead them right to the captured prisoners. Relieved, Sokka took a step toward the tunnel, but stopped. The Dai Li agent had mentioned the coup; his sister and Zuko were not the only ones currently in danger, but also the generals, as well as the Earth King himself. He pulled his thoughts away from his emotions, his critical mind taking over. He hated to admit it, and while he desperately wanted to know that both were safe, he bravely took a step back. Zuko and Katara were in better hands with powerful benders like Aang and Iroh rescuing them. He was sure.
“We should split up,” he said. Iroh turned his head to Sokka with some interest as he watched him plan. “Aang, you go with Iroh to look for Katara and Zuko. Toph and I will go inform the Earth King of Azula’s coup. ”
“Alright, be safe,” said Aang, already hurrying into the tunnel.
Iroh turned to follow, but stopped when it seemed Sokka had more to say. He turned back, his look inquiring after his unspoken word.
“If…” said Sokka, but he hesitated, aware of Toph. “If things go south and we need to leave, know that you can come with us,” he said. With a nod, the old general turned and quickly followed Aang.

--

Zuko had recounted the disastrous event, how it all seemed to start so innocently with a visit to his grandfather in the throne room, to his sister dragging him behind the curtains to listen as his father tried to argue for his right to the throne after Iroh’s loss at Ba Sing Se. How he’d heard the chilling order Fire Lord Azulon had given for Ozai’s first born to be executed to teach him a lesson of loss-- and how it seems Ursa had done something to prevent it. Though, in exchange, she’d been banished and disappeared entirely. He hadn’t realized until he was finished that Katara had listened to it all, every word, and not once objected or argued.
“This war took your mother, and mine,” finished Zuko, sadly.
Katara shifted as she’d processed everything she’d heard, and Zuko expected some mention of how he might deserve it, how to know this was to know the suffering of others, instead, she’d quietly murmured an apology.
“I’m sorry I yelled at you before.”
He looked at her, surprised. She’d been so adamant about hating him before, but was that all it took to turn her heart?
“It doesn’t matter,” he said, quickly, sure it was just an act, a set up for some greater insult.
“No, really,” she said. “I wasn’t thinking and well, it’s just that, for so long now, whenever I would imagine the face of the enemy, it was your face.”
“My face…” he turned, and his hand went to his scar immediately. Yes, he did look quite monstrous, and it was always obvious by the way they had looked at him that that’s what they looked to first. The skin of it was rough, puffy, misshaped, it drew the eye, and sometimes the scar seemed to be the only thing others could see. Even customers of his Uncle’s shop had not hidden their initial distaste at having to look at it. “I see,”
“No, that’s not what I mean,” she said, quickly, though Zuko doubted it.
“It’s okay. I used to think this scar marked me, made me new in a way. The mark of a banished prince, cursed to chase the Avatar forever. I used to think it was the only thing anyone ever saw, an obvious display of my failure and dishonor, and in that way it felt like it wore me more than I wore it.”
He paused, his memories betraying his words. To someone, that wasn’t all he was, and even if he could not say it in front of her, he felt the weight of that lie in the chest pocket of his cheongshan. The poetry book Sokka had left him sat there.
“Is that why you’ve been going after us? Because it was that or remain banished?”
“Yes, but lately...I’ve realized I’m free to determine my own destiny, even if I’ll never be free of my mark.”
“Maybe you could be free of it,” she offered. He turned, curious.
“What?”
“I have healing abilities.”
“It’s a scar. It can’t be healed,” he scoffed, unintentionally.
She paused, some thoughtful look coming over her face as she eyed him. He could tell some decision was bouncing around in her head. Coming to a conclusion, she raised her hands and withdrew something that had hung around her neck and out of sight under her kimono-like tunic. Withdrawing it, she revealed some long pendant, and she held it out to show him. Curious, he turned to her as she spoke.
“This is water from the Spirit Oasis at the North Pole. It has special properties, so I’ve been saving it for something important. I don’t know if it would work, but...”
She approached him, her eyes looking over the marred and gnarled flesh with a thoughtful gaze, as if already working over how to best heal it. Was she serious, thought Zuko, was she so readily able to accept him? Was she so open to helping him already-- was that really all it took? He’d been so convinced of the opposite effect he’d have on them, but already she was reaching out to help him. He closed his eyes, accepting the touch, remembering the feel of her brother’s hands in his. Maybe such things were possible.

With a great crash, the wall of the cavern collapsed. The two spun around to watch as the dust settled, revealing the Avatar. The boy turned to look at them, and Zuko could not help as his heart began to hammer in his chest, begging him to move forward and attack-- to seize what was his. Katara’s words echoed in his mind as he fought to keep still. The Fire Lord’s son, a fact he so desperately wanted his father to recognize. He was his loving, faithful son, who’d found the Avatar and had come so close-- so horribly close to capturing him once. The pain of having been cast out and dishonored coursed through him, and he could just hear her angry words driving home what he knew was true. He was the Fire Lord’s son, who would willingly throw his tether to the wolves for a chance at home.
His uncle stepped out of the cavern as well, relief washed over his face as he saw his nephew, safe and unharmed.
“Aang!” cried Katara, running to his side and embracing him immediately. She threw her arms around him, and he received her, but from over her shoulder, the Avatar glared back at him, and it was all he could do to keep from lashing out in response. His uncle had run to his side, pulling him into a thankful embrace, but Zuko’s glare remained on the Avatar. His blood boiled, like destiny dangled his honor before him, it was only a matter of moment before it would once more be yanked from his reach. Not only this, but his own Uncle had somehow managed to find the Avatar, and convince him to help find him.
“Uncle, I don’t understand,” started Zuko, throwing a hand to Aang, “What are you doing with the Avatar?”
“Saving you, that’s what,” Aang responded, his tone scolding. This was more insult than he could bare, and with a furious cry of rage he moved to start attacking the boy-- but was strongly held back by his Uncle. He didn’t dare raise a hand against him, and though he remained, codul not tear his gaze away from his target. God, Sokka was right about him, he would change at the very sight of him, and in the moment he didn’t care.
“Zuko,” said his Uncle, sternly, “It’s time we talked,” he powerfully pushed his nephew back before turning his gaze to the others. “Go help your other friends. We’ll catch up with you.”
Zuko gawked at him, betrayed. Go with them? Was the man mad? He could only watch as his target bowed and sprinted away, the Water Tribe girl hesitating a moment, chancing a glance back at him once, before following in his direction.
“Why, Uncle,” he asked, turning his gaze from him, seething with frustration. “You know what the Avatar means to me. You know I can’t just…” he held his head, a storm of contradicting emotions flooding him.
“You are not the same man you used to be, Zuko. You are stronger, and wiser and freer than you have ever been. And now you have come to the crossroads of your destiny. It’s time for you to choose. It’s time for you to choose good.”
Freer, he thought, he was no such thing. It took one glance at the Avatar to lose himself all over again, to become exactly what Sokka feared. They were wrong about him, he thought sadly. He could not be who they wanted of him.
The ground rumbled beneath them suddenly, and a wave of crystals sprouted up and shot at his Uncle, entrapping him and rendering him immobile, but still standing. Zuko turned wildly, ready to defend against whoever dared to attack them, watching as two Dai Li agents and his sister slid effortlessly down the cavern wall and toward them.
“I expected this kind of treachery from Uncle,” said Azula, shifting her loathsome gaze from Iroh and then to her brother, “but Zuko, Prince Zuko, you’re a lot of things, but you’re not a traitor, are you?” she asked.
“Release him, immediately!” Zuko demanded.
“It’s not too late for you, Zuko,” she continued, as if she hadn’t heard him. “You can still redeem yourself.”
His eyes widened at her, shocked. What did she mean by this?
“The kind of redemption she offers is not for you,” he could hear his Uncle say.
“Why don’t you let him decide, Uncle?” she snapped, before turning her attention back to her brother. Her face softened to concern. “I need you, Zuko. I’ve plotted every moment of this day, this glorious day in Fire Nation history, and the only way we win is together. At the end of this day, you will have your honor back. You will have father’s love. You will have everything you want.”
He stared at her in disbelief, the chance at waking from this terrible nightmare of exile and confusion offered freely to him...and all he had to do was prove his loyalty to his father, his country? Not only this, but his sister, his normally perfect sister, was asking for his help. Only he could help?
“Zuko, I am begging you,” came the voice of his Uncle, pulling his gaze back to him. “Look into your heart and see what it is that you truly want.”
What he wanted, he wondered, why did the question draw up so many confusing feelings?
“You are free to choose,” she said, waving off the Dai Li, who promptly made themselves scarce as Azula went on and down the hall to follow the Avatar. When she disappeared down the hall, he stood there, contemplating, sorting through the storm of everything. Once more, he was presented with this chance, this opportunity, but this time, he wasn’t alone. He took a step, but he paused, knowing that his next move would mark him and Sokka as enemies, truly as enemies, from then on. There was no going back.
His gaze turned to the tunnel, the darkness beckoned him, like home was calling. With one last glance to his Uncle, who stared back at him in a quiet plea, he turned and ran as fast as his legs could carry him, his heart beating for the chase of home. Goodbye Sokka, he thought as he began work on locking his heart away, may we never meet again.

Chapter Text

“Something’s wrong,” called Sokka, “They’re taking way too long.”
From where he sat atop Appa’s head, he looked down to the watery cavern where a waterfall poured into. Per the Earth King’s instruction, who was with them on Appa’s back, the waterfall led to the crystal caverns below, and that this was one of the surest exits out of the dungeons that didn’t involve running back into the palace.
“Do you think they were stopped?” asked Toph, not far behind him, gripping onto Appa’s fur for dear life.
“I don’t know…” his eyes scanned the darkness of the cavern below for any sign of movement. It was weak, but he could just see light and shadows dancing across the rocky surface.
“I’m gonna take us closer,” he said, and wiped the reigns. Appa floated gently down, and even from their height they could hear sounds of explosions and fire.
“Sounds like it to me,” said Toph. “We should go down and help them.”
“We can’t,” said Sokka. “Appa can’t fit, only Katara and Aang would be able to escape with their waterbending, and they’ve already got Iroh and Zuko to worry about.”
The waiting was agony, especially as they heard the battle rage on, until suddenly there was the sound of lightning cracking. Even from where they sat they could feel the static in the air. Sokka held his breath as everything went suddenly and horribly quiet.

A minute of dreadful silence passed, before he noticed the water moving in a completely unnatural way. He knew waterbending when he saw it, and he had Appa dive closer.
The water was propelling Katara upward, who held an unconscious Aang. Then, at the height of her launch, just as she was starting to fall back, Appa swung by and Sokka grabbed his sister’s arm, pulling them both up strongly.
She struggled to get on, and they both pulled at Aang, who was completely unconscious. Tears were streaked down his sister’s face, and as Sokka pulled on Aang’s body. The boy didn’t make a sound, and he dreaded the worst.
“What happened?” Sokka demanded, “Where the others?”
“Give me space,” was all she said, laying Aang’s body down against Appa’s soft fur. Despite his worry, healing Aang was a priority. So, grabbing the reins, he pulled at Appa so that the bison got the hint to rise up higher into the sky.
Now high enough in the night sky to not be spotted by anyone below, he got out of his sister’s way as she began her work on Aang. Pulling out the vial from the Spirit Oasis, she bended it out of the vial, and then it spun and shone like pure moonlight. She lifted Aang’s upper body up and had his head lay against her shoulder. The sight of the wound made Sokka freeze, a quiet gaze escaping him. The spirit water entered into Aang’s body through said wound, and for a moment, nothing happened. Then his tattoos glowed a white light, and he gasped in a breath, as if it were his first in a while, and he opened his eyes. He’d survived.
Relieved, his sister laid him back down, happy to see his eyes open, before they closed once more. She checked his pulse, and now that the emergency had passed, she took up Aang’s hand against her cheek and began to sob.
Carefully, Sokka slid down next to his sister, holding her and putting a hand on the unconscious boy’s head, then shoulder.
“I don’t understand,” breathed Sokka. “What happened? Weren’t Iroh and Zuko there to help you?”
“Iroh helped us escape,” she said, taking in a shuddered breath, then her gaze turned to a seething glare, “but only after Zuko turned on us.”
Sokka’s eyes widened.
“He...he didn’t...he wouldn’t!” he said suddenly, and thus caused his sister to look at him, shocked.
“What are you saying--? Of course he would!” she snapped, “Of course he would-- and after he lied-- after he said he’d changed.”

To know everything that happened and understand every detail of the betrayal, brought to Sokka’s heart a kind of numbness he never knew a person could feel. A quiet anguish that tore at his heart as he listened to his sister recount with the raging temper of a storm everything that had happened. How Zuko had lied to her about wanting to change, how he’d joined their side only to start aiding the princess in the fight, and how just when Aang accessed his Avatar state, Azula had taken the opportunity to strike him down.
Now Aang lay before him unconscious, his wound just fixed up enough where he was no longer in immediate danger. His sister was at the reigns. He hadn’t spoken since suggesting their route to their father’s troops. They were headed to Chameleon Bay, where the men of the Southern Water Tribe were still stationed. The ride was mournfully quiet.
As he looked to Aang, he remembered the promise he’d made him near the very beginning of their journey, as the Southern Air Temple.
“Katara and I aren’t gonna let anything happen to you, promise.”
A rather futile thing to promise now that he was on the other side of it. And in no small way did he help but to blame himself for what had happened. His tether, Zuko, had joined Azula, and while she had been the one to make the final strike, she would not have had the chance were it not for the aid of her brother.

--

Zuko shot up from bed, his hand clutching his chest in shock. Late afternoon light sunk into his room from the shuttered window, casting it in deep oranges and reds; night was on the horizon. His body was horribly sore from last night’s fight and brutal victory over Ba Sing Se. It was a kind of pain that sunk deep into his muscles, threatening to reach the bone. Within the walls of the former Earth King’s palace, Zuko was supposed to be resting after what his sister called a glorious victory and eradication of the Avatar. After such an intense fight, he was sure he could do no such thing. She was perhaps sleeping soundly. People could be screaming bloody murder and he was sure she’d find it to be as relaxing as any lullaby. Why should having just killed the Avatar disturb the princess?
The idea sent shivers down his spine as he held his arms and leaned forward in bed, wrapping his arms around his legs. He had not meant for the Avatar to die. That wasn’t his decision, wasn’t his fault, he told himself. His sister was lethal, but he didn’t know just how. Yet, was the Avatar truly dead? His thoughts wandered back to the Spirit Oasis water Katara had offered to use to heal his scar. His eyes lowered to the bed sheets at his feet in thought as he contemplated just how potent the water was. Was it enough to save anybody after just a terrible strike? Lightning was lethal if not redirected. If the Avatar was alive, there was the question of what to do next. Tell his sister of the water? He bit his lip as he considered the idea.
His hands trembled as they gripped the sheets that covered his knees. It really would be murder then, wouldn’t it? But this was war, and he was the prince of his nation who was destined to rule the…he dropped the thought with a tiered sigh.
He ran a hand through his hair, noting the sweat that rolled off his locks and onto his fingers. He stood, throwing off the covers and went to the wash basin to throw water on his face.
The cold water ran down his hot skin. It truly felt as though summer was setting in. He gripped the basin and took in a few breathes, hoping to settle his sick stomach, which churned with every thought.
The Avatar.
Home.
His honor.
The Spirit Water.
Murder.

He gripped his abdomen and doubled over, struggling to keep standing. With a resounding “no” that echoed in his mind, he decided he would not inform his sister. He could do Sokka the dignity of at least possibly saving his young friend, and if they were smart, allow them to run away and disappear all together. If they were smart, he reasoned again, they’d never show their face in front of them, never chance another encounter with his sister, who clearly showed no problem in obtaining victory at any cost.
This settled his stomach enough to the point where he noticed the strain on his chest. He gripped at the air in front of it, expected to feel the taught threads of destiny, but his hand passed through unobstructed.

A strange noise caught his attention then, like the slithering of scales against the marble flooring of the room. He turned, shocked.
“Who's there?” he demanded, looking about in the shadows of late afternoon. He trained his ears to the silence. From outside the washroom he could hear the noise again, and the old wood of the bed creak. He held his breath and crept to the doorway, his gaze looking about. He swore he could smell smoke, though he saw no trace of it. Footsteps outside the bedroom door paused just in front of it. He held his breath and slipped over to it, he could see the shadow of someone just beyond from where the light bleed in. Quickly he seized the door and swung it open with a loud crash-- but stopped suddenly when he saw that it was a palace servant, who’d fallen to their knees and were trembling with their hands held up in defense.
“I’m so sorry!” they squeaked, the tassels on their head board clacking together as they shook. The sight turned his blood cold, but he glowered down at them angrily, impatient with their fear
“What are you doing here? What do you want?” he demanded.
“I-I came to-to inform you of dinner!” they said, kowtowing to him for mercy.
“I’m not hungry.”
“The...the princess was inis--”
“I said I’m not hungry!” he yelled, and slammed the door in their face.

He leaned against it, looking to the dusky light that flooded his room, the shadows somehow deeper. He heard her sniffle and get to her feet and hurry away, and only then did he feel his breathing ease. As he stared into the darkness, he was sure, something was staring back at him.

--

It had been weeks since Ba Sing Se was first overthrown, and in that time the Earth King had bravely set out on his own to see the world, and the Southern Water Tribe commandeered a Fire Nation boat. Aang was still unconscious, but Katara assured them that he would wake up when his body was properly healed. They had come incredibly close to losing him, they would have to be patient if they wanted him to wake up mostly healed and still able to fight.
The ship they’d commandeered was now heading East. They’d be making their way to the Fire Nation for the invasion. The Eclipse would not wait for the affairs of earth to sort itself out, and Sokka refused to allow them to miss their chance at the one day firebenders couldn’t bend. They no longer had the Earth King’s army, but he was sure that even with a small battalion they could do it. He wanted this invasion plan to be like the very ice storms that would sometimes blow through the southern wastes; unstoppable and unforgiving to those caught in it. They just needed careful planning. He would be calm, calculated, and shrewd.
To make sure they weren’t suspected by passing Fire Nation ships, the men had taken to wearing the Fire Nation armor, Sokka along with them. It was as he was fitting the final straps of the shoulder armor that he heard a knock at the door. He was in a private room, having wanted to observe the armor, get to know its weak points and study it as he put them on.
“Yeah,” he called, and the door opened. He turned to see his sister, her gaze dreading in one moment, and masked in the next with stoic indifference the next. The way his sister had looked at him made him feel bitter for having to don the colors, even if it was for the sake of subterfuge. She approached him, bravely tamping down whatever emotion that played just behind her eyes.
“Dad’s at the helm,” she said, “he thinks it’s time to go over the invasion plans with you.”
“Oh, yeah, I’ll be there in a sec. Just need to fasten these…” he tried to grab at the strap, but as he lifted his other arm out of the way, this would comically yank the straps away from his grasps, and the armor wasn’t so flexible as to allow him his normal range. So he played this game back and forth with himself of trying to grab the strap, only to have it out of his grasp no matter which way he turned. Katara snorted in laughter and finally stepped forward to alleviate her brother of the burden.
“You can sometimes be simultaneously the smartest and dumbest person I know,” she said.
He scoffed and shook his head, his eyes rolled up to the ceiling.
“You try to put these on by yourself,” he argued.
“No thanks,” she said simply. She remained stoic as she helped tighten the shoulder plates.
Katara had been offered armor, it wasn’t as though there was any shortage, but she’d outright objected to wearing it. No one dared to push it, least of all Sokka, who knew his sister had been there to witness a fire nation soldier, clad in this very armor, to enter their home and threaten their mother before she ran to get her father. There was no way she’d allow it on her body, and she was showing great restraint in her distaste of even having to touch it by helping Sokka. So he remained still as she tugged the straps tight, only slightly being set off balance once or twice.
“...I understand the reason for doing this,” she whispered so that only he may hear. “I just...hate seeing you in this.”
“It’s pretty weird for me too,” he admitted, “I’m sure it’s weird for everyone.”
He could feel his sister was strongly holding back her words as she finished adjusting the straps.
“I have to admit though,” he said after she finished. He turned to her, holding the fire Nation helmet under his arm. “They do know how to keep a guy covered. This is some serious gear. I could always use what I learn from their stuff to enhance our own armor for the invasion.”
She nodded, half-listening. He dropped it and cleared his throat.
“How’s Aang?” he asked.
“The same. His body is healing, but I don’t know when he’ll wake up.”
Her eyes were cast to the ground. Sokka watched a flicker of anger cross her face that she tamed into a single twitch.
“...You really hate this, don’t you?” he asked quietly.
“I know it’s childish,” she snapped, folding her arms and casting her gaze fully away. “And I know this is necessary. I understand, and I won’t object.”
“Katara…” he put a hand on his sister’s shoulder. “You’re...really brave, you know that?”
“I do. But what do you mean?” she asked, turning back.
“This can’t be easy for you, seeing us in Fire Nation armor, healing Aang all by yourself. I just want you to know that, I know it’s not easy. And...and thanks.”
A tear slid down her face and she gave a nod in return.
“I just...ever since what happened to mom…”
“I know,” he nodded.
She bit at her bottom lip, pulling her mouth into a tight lipped frown before she spoke.
“...This is all my fault,” she whispered at last, putting a hand to her necklace.
“What?” he balked, “What about any of this makes you think that?”
“I should never have trusted Zuko. I should have...I don’t know, stopped him, earlier, somehow. I should've never trusted he’d do the right thing. I was so blind...but it’ll never happen again.”
Sokka’s stomach fell as he heard her words. He could not tell her the bitter anger he felt at his own tether having manipulated his sister in such a way. His gaze hardened as he stared, seeing Zuko in his mind’s eye. The boy had wanted an enemy in him for so long. And now, he’d finally get it, he thought. He pulled his sister into a hug, and despite the armor she didn’t object.
“None of this is your fault. You saved Aang,” he said, quietly.
“Still…”
“No,” he said. “He lied. He lied, and I promise, I will never let him hurt us again.”
“You’re ridiculous. You can’t promise that.”
“Maybe not...but I can make sure the next time I see him, I will show him what happens when he messes with us like that.”
She allowed a short laugh to escape from her nose, a huff, before gently pushing away from her brother.
“We’ll show him together,” she said.
“Right,” Sokka nodded.
She wiped a tear away from her cheeks and let out a breath, composing herself once more. “Dad’s waiting. I’ll meet you there.”
“See you in a sec,” he nodded.
She walked out.

He turned his gaze to the floor length mirror he’d been avoiding the entire time. Now fully dressed, he took in the red color against his dark complexion, forcing his breath to be even. He stomped down whatever vengeful thought he had about the sight before it really budded into consciousness, and simply turned and walked out.

--

When next Sokka dreamed, it a was a few days after the discussion he’d had with his sister. He’d thought long and hard about what it meant to do what he could to keep everyone safe. With a terrible ache, he could not deny the grief he felt from Zuko’s decision. It truly felt like he’d lost the boy he knew all that time ago, or that he’d let him slip from his grasp. He replayed everything that had happened over and again in his mind, trying to figure out what he could have done better, what lie he could have told, or not told. Where had he gone wrong? What could he have done better? And if he had done everything right, then had that been their destiny this whole time? What was their destiny? Did it matter?
When he’d surfaced in his dreams, he found he was not in the void as he’d expected himself to be, but instead, the arctic neutral ground. Instead of fresh soft snow, the ground was frozen over. A thin sheet of ice coated the trees, the grass, and hung in the air like a bitter chill. He shivered, knelt on the ground, his hands on his lap as he waited for the approach of the light-footed traveler. The giant spirit showed up as it normally did, quiet as snowfall. It trotted out from behind and looked at him with quiet inquiry.
“Iwei…” he started, but lost his voice in the next moment. “Iwei, I failed, didn’t I?”
The wolf made no move to acknowledge him.
“When it came down to it, I couldn't convince my tether to do the right thing. I...I feel like I only made things worse,” he said, looking to the stoic creature. “So...because of this...” He put his hand in front of his chest and willed the little golden strand into view. He had not been sure if it would work, but instinct had been his guide in the moment. Looking at it now, he noticed how taught and strained it seemed, like it was on the verge of breaking. It was frayed along the edge, like it was weathered and aged, it’s golden glow dim and faded. “I want you to sever us,” he said.
He didn’t expect an answer, he knew Iwei never really did anything he asked of the spirit. But in that moment, as the great spirit’s head turned away, he felt frustrated at them. He defiantly gripped the tether in his hand, just able to wrap it around his fist once, and pulled at himself. The sensation was entirely unpleasant, and made him feel as if he’d be wrenched from his skin.
Iwei’s head snapped back to him, alarmed.
The sensation scared Sokka, and he took in sharp breaths of surprise as his vision around the edge of his view slowly returned to him. He lifted his gaze to the unmoving spirit.
“Did you hear me?” he asked, his anger slowly rising. “Listen, I’ve got an entire invasion to plan. The Avatar’s been hurt, badly...and it’s all my fault,” he breathed, holding his arms. “I don’t know what you wanted by tethering us, but whatever you were hoping for failed. So, let me end it. Sever us!”
But it did not move, made no motion to comfort or dissuade. It watched him, as if interested.
“...why are you looking at me like that?” asked Sokka. “Why are you staring at me like there’s something you know? Why don’t you tell me anything? If you’d told me maybe then--!” he gripped his tether, unable to speak the betrayal, and bowed his head. “Just...tell me,” he insisted. “Tell me what I was supposed to do!”
It turned its head away. He slammed his fist suddenly into the cold earth, the ice cracked from the strength of his swing.
“Talk to me!” he demanded, his voice filled with desperate pain. His breath escaped him in angry plumes from the cold around them. Some noise caught his attention then, like an explosion from far below, deep within the frozen earth he sat on. The cracks suddenly spread, spidering out across the vallery and thrumming in the air as they grew deeper and split the very earth itself.
“...Oops…” he said, watching as everything began to shatter.
From the cracks there spouted white plumes of what Sokka at first thought was smoke or steam, but a chill to them told him it was fog. The world around him was splitting from all these deep cracks he’d made, and becoming quickly shrouded in the white clouds.
“Wha--what is this place made of glass? What’s happening?” he called over the thunderous noise.
Iwei lifted their head and howled up to the sky. In the night sky, the moon appeared, and cast a beam of light down on Sokka that the great spirit quickly took refuge in as well. The mists closed in on them, completely whiting out the view of the rest of the forest and valley. The sky too seemed to be swallowed by the fog. The mists were stopped at the edge of the harsh moonlight, and came no closer. Iwei was standing over Sokka, Their head lowered protectively just inches above him as they growled. Sokka could see the spirit’s fur was standing on end. Had he really caused something so catastrophic?
“They’re coming…” said a voice that almost made Sokka’s heart stop.
“Yue?” he gasped, turning his gaze up. The moon hung above him, but not her.
From somewhere deep within the cold fog he could hear something slither about, drawing his attention back in front of him. He could just see long-bodied shapes weaving in and out of sight. There were two creatures, possibly. Their growls reverberated in the air, disturbing the mists here and there in small plumes, as if they’d draw near to Sokka before backing away. Alarmed, he fought to keep track of them, listening for one growl and then turning his head in the direction of another. They were indiscernible from one another, no way to tell them apart.
“...Iwei?!” he breathed, frightened. “What’s happening?”
The creatures in the shadows drew closer, just enough for the spare moonlight to make out their outline, their shape unmistakable.
Dragons.
One blue. One red.
They sat on opposite sides of Sokka, their great heads big enough to swallow him whole should one dare to dart into the clearing of moonlight that seemed to hold them at bay. Their eyes were a dangerous yellow color that had their own deadly glow to them.
“You did well...Sokka of the Water Tribe,” the blue one on his right spoke, causing Sokka’s heart to leap into his throat.
“You talk?” the teen balked. The skin around the eyes of the blue dragon crinkled, as if amused, but did not acknowledge him.
“It was only thanks to your efforts that our prince could be returned to us.”
“...my efforts…?” breathed Sokka.
“All of your lies…” it hissed sweetly, turning Sokka’s blood cold, “secrets…it drove him away.”
“You’re...you’re lying!” he yelled back, grabbing at the space above his chest.
“Lying? I’m thanking you,” it purred, “and I’m here to offer my help.”
“...help?” he asked, his voice quiet and meek.
“We heard you, heard your sad call from the dark recesses of your heart, and we wish to take pity on you,” the blue dragon turned, like a fish in water, and sailed smoothly in front of Sokka. “You want answers, don’t you? Answers Iwei selfishly won’t speak?”
This drew a deep, dangerous growl from the Spirit, the reverberations of which Sokka could feel just from sitting under it.
“Who are you two?” he asked.
“Patience, child,” said the blue dragon, “All will be revealed in time. Such is destiny, is it not?”
“You said “our prince”. You know Zuko?”
“Oh yes,” the blue dragon continued, floating into Sokka’s view. “We know all of his darkness, and all his desires.”
He looked from the blue dragon, to the red one, who simply remained staring at him.
“...and what about you?” he asked. “You talk at all or…?”
“You are not ready for what I have to say.” said the red dragon. The biting comment forced him to take a sharp breath of air in and turn his wide-eyed gaze away.
“What the red dragon has to say is of no importance anyway!” the blue dragon hissed quietly. It’s aggravation at being ignored, even for a moment, was obvious. Black smoke emanated from its maw and flared nostrils. The black mixed with white mists, swirling in and out of each other from the force of its agitated breath “Besides,” it said, snapping back to it’s persuasive tone, “this isn’t about us. But what we can do for you, what Iwei won’t do for you.”
“And that is…?” he asked, staring back incredulously.
“The reason for your tethering.”
Iwei snarled then, giving a vicious bark and snapped it’s jaws at the dragon, who shrunk away from the sudden action. Sokka knelt up, putting his hand on Iwei’s leg to stop the great spirit, his gaze trained on the dragon.
“Our destiny? You know our destiny?” he asked.
“Would you like me to show you?” it asked, it’s voice slow, sweet, like honey coating a rotten fruit that turned his stomach. He considered their words a moment, turning his gaze up to his protector, his silent, un-answering guide.
“...yes,” he said, looking back to the mists with determination.
The blue dragon laughed softly, and sailed around to the other side of him, it’s body now curled completely around the clearing, it’s head reared up and looking down at him. The red dragon was gone.
“Are you sure? You may not like what you see…”
“Do you want to tell me or not?” Sokka yelled, angrily. He didn’t like the way this giant creature was toying with him.
“Oh-ho, eager, aren’t we? Well if you are so eager to meet your destiny, then come,” it lifted it’s large serpentine body up and away, like lifting a curtain to a scene in a play. “See for yourself.”
Sokka stood, ducking out from under Iwei’s head, ignoring the small whine that escaped the celestial wolf, and took a step closer to look. Someone stood a good distance off, their back to him and surrounded in fire. Their dark hair was pulled up into a neat top knot, held together by gold hair pins. Their robes were made of fine deep red silks, lined in black and embroidered in bright gold. Sokka stared at this unfamiliar person, dread held in his heart.
“Who...who is that…?” he asked, clutching at his tether.
“Would you like to know? Step closer…”
Sokka took a smaller cautious step closer, his eyes locked onto the figure, watching as the fire seemed to bow to this person, only to roar back up. He stood at the edge of the moonlight, peering at the person. They turned their head slightly, as if they could hear him. He froze and stared at the profile of the figure. The shadows danced along their features just enough to obscure them and their expression. They were familiar though, and he swore he knew this person.
“Closer…” bid the dragon, and Sokka could not help but obey. His foot lifted to take a step, but he felt himself pulled back from the edge in the next moment. “Hey!” he called, and pushed off from Iwei, who’d been gently biting the back of his parka. “Stop that!” he said, turning on the spirit, angrily. “What’s with you!” he demanded. “You lead me here and there-- you never tell me why, or what to do! Why? You’ve wanted me to accept my destiny for so long, and now when I’m finally going to get some answers you’re stopping me?”
The wolf looked down at him, with its ears turned back, a whine escaping it.
“This is your fault!” he yelled. “So just...stay away from me! I’m done following you!”
And with that he stepped out of the protective ring. Instantly the light of the moon vanished, along with Iwei, casting him and the dragons in utter darkness, save for the angry orange and red light of the flames, whose heat Sokka could now feel just beginning to burn along his skin.
At once the figure turned, and with horror Sokka realized that he was staring at himself. His own blue eyes stared back at him, his body adorned in red Fire Nation robes of royalty. That which held his hair together was a golden hair ornament, a blazing emblem of the Fire Nation that signified royalty.
His blood ran cold from the sight, his stomach plummeting as his royal robed double stared at him.
“What? Oh no...no, no, no!” he said, shaking his head.
“What’s wrong, child?” said the blue dragon from somewhere in the darkness. “I thought you wanted answers.”
“What is this? Why do I look like that?”
“Like royalty? Because you are--or, you will be.”
“You’re lying!” he demanded, peering around in the darkness, doing anything he could to avoid the terrible image before him. “You’re just trying to scare me! How is this even possible? It’s crazy! There’s no way--”
Another person walked out from the shadows then, or the image of one, rather, as they passed right through Sokka like a ghost.This new person joined Sokka’s double, their back to him. They too wore the royal reds and gold colors, their hair done up in mostly the same fashion. They gently, tenderly, caught the chin of the other before them, and tilted it up to their face. Sokka’s double smiled as their hand gently slid from his chin, to his cheek. This person, roughly the same height as Sokka also wore a crown that adorned his smooth, black, top knot. This person turned, the right side of their face looking over their shoulder and to the Sokka that watched these images with dread. Their scar was unmistakable, as well as the golden-colored gaze that peered out from under it.
“You asked who we were,” said the blue dragon, their voice circling around him from within the darkness.
“And we shall tell you,” said the red dragon, circling in the opposite direction. They emerged from the darkness, into the light of the fire that glinted and danced along the polished dark hall they stood in. Their great forms towered over the figures.
“We are the servants of the Fire royalty,” said the blue dragon,
“The Fates within the bloodline,” said the blue dragon.
“And through your tether,”
“One day,”
“We will serve you too,” they said, “Fire Prince Sokka.”

He looked to the scene before him, shaking his head and stepping back. His double looked back at him, the image of Zuko’s arm around his shoulder as he stared back at himself, coldly. He couldn't believe it, they were lying, he thought, they must be.
The scene before him suddenly became engulfed in fire. The laughter of the blue dragon roared out over the roar of the flames, and then disappeared. Sokka felt suddenly very heavy, very tired. He knew himself already to be asleep, but some darkness called to him and forced his eyes closed, and he fell back, the ground beneath him disappeared, and he fell back into dreamless sleep.

--

Zuko woke up in a terrible sweat, bolting upright, his hands shaking as they gripped the covers and turned his knuckles white. He fought to catch his breath, his mind raced to figure out what was wrong. He felt his chest tighten, but with a few deep breaths it loosened. He looked about him, but the room was dark.
He was in his own private ship’s quarters, en route home to the Fire Nation. He threw off the covers of the bed he’d been sleeping in and held his head. He tried to recall what it was that woke him, that sent him into such a driving panic, but nothing came to mind. Maybe it was the food at dinner; it had been so rich, and there had been so much. He was not used to the banquets he’d once grown up with anymore.
Whatever the cause, he was awake now, and found he was too unnerved to go back to sleep. He stood, and grabbing his cloak, decided he would get fresh air on the deck of the ship.
He stepped out, feeling the cool night wind against his skin. The salty breeze was refreshing compared to how stifling his room had seemed in that moment. The quarter deck was empty, perfect for him to stand, think, and try to become tired once more. He went to the ship’s railing and looked over it, to the ocean below.
It had years since he’d been home. Years trying to hunt and capture the Avatar, only to return home empty handed. The Avatar’s defeat was his sister’s accomplishment, of which he was sure she’d get all the praise for. What did he have to show, other than his last minute loyalty to the cause? Would that be enough for his father? His hands gripped the railing of the ship as he steadied himself, lately the thought of returning home and seeing him turned his stomach. He in no small way denied the fear he held for his father-- but if only because he feared he had not proven himself a worthy son, he reasoned. Was he deserving? Had it been enough?

“You can’t go back to him. Not after what he’s done. He’s not the one you should be seeking forgiveness from--”
“What are you saying?”
“He should be apologizing to you,” Sokka said, furious. “He’s the one who should be on his knees, begging for your forgiveness.”

His hands gripped the rail as he fought against his own mind, swatting away at any thoughts about Sokka, about the past. What did he care what the boy thought-- Sokka was his enemy. They’d lost themselves in Ba Sing Se, given into fantasies in times of hopelessness when it seemed like there was no way out, but this was the real world. He was not Li front he Tea Shop, and Sokka wasn’t just some tea-loving patreon. He was the Fire Prince, and Sokka...
“Aren’t you cold?” came a voice.
Mai, Azula’s friend, and now, his girlfriend. Her leveled stare was gazing at him with a hint of warmth he couldn’t quite feel. He opened his mouth to reply that he was a bit chilly.
“I’ve got a lot on my mind. It’s been so long. Over three years since I was home. I wonder what’s changed. I wonder how I’ve changed…” he queited himself. He had not meant to say any of that, but the words spilled out nonetheless.
He heard her give a mock yawn.
“I asked if you were cold, I didn’t ask for your life’s story,” she teased. Her tone was flat, but her mannerism told him that it was all in jest, some light poke in hopes he might pull himself out of his sour mood. He said nothing in response, batting away the slight wound to his pride. She approached him, and slinging an arm over his shoulder, guided his face to hers and whispered, “Stop worrying,” and pulled him into a kiss.
She was his first, though this was not the first instance.
She’d been up front about her feelings for him at the beginning of the voyage home weeks ago. It had been after dinner, their first together after the fall of Ba Sing Se and the secured occupation of its palace.
“To Zuko,” Azula had said, lifting her glass, “who chose his redemption over false fantasies instilled in him by our crazed Uncle.”
Her friends had lifted their glasses as well, and he’d done the same in going through the motions. He ignored the fact that his Uncle was currently being fed slop in the brig.
He’d said very little during dinner, his sister and Ty Lee had done much of the talking, and there were a great many congratulations that the captain of the ship and the guard accompanying them had offered for their glorious victory. Zuko had felt sick through every bite of lobster, koalalamb, and komodochicken, but had swallowed every bit down. He’d noticed Mai peering over at him from time to time, and thought perhaps she was simply trying to get a better look at his scar. Last time he’d seen her was several years ago, before his banishment, and he understood to some degree the terrifying transformation that had taken over the right side of his face.
She’d approached him after dinner, when everyone was retiring to their rooms, and had asked for a word with him. There on the deck of the ship she’d offered that they join into a relationship. Such was how Mai operated, few words, but her meanings clear. He had asked her why, and she had simply told him that she liked him. She’d asked if there was anyone in his life he’d rather go out with at the moment. He lied. So, she’d shrugged and said then there wasn’t an excuse not to be together, to which he had no argument. He was the Fire Prince, having a girlfriend was a given, and one as deadly and precise as Mai was the logical choice. She had an upstanding background, her family was currently overlooking a colony in Omashu and was held in high favor in the court of the royal family. Their daughter being a potential future Fire Lady by dating the prince was a logical and tactical next step to securing themselves in lifelong wealth, legacy, and happiness. More than that, it seemed Mai genuinely smiled when he’d agreed at last.

Their lips parted, and she smiled at him again, before withdrawing without a word and leaving him alone with his thoughts. He wondered quietly why her touch did not linger in the same way it had with Sokka. Perhaps it was the shock of going home. He did have a lot on his mind.

--

Sokka had been awake the past few nights, unable to sleep after the terrible nightmare he had. The image of him married to Zuko was...well it was alarming to say the least. Though deeply saddened and hurt, there had been some security in deciding that Zuko was now the enemy instead of this confused blurred line. He knew what side he stood on with him, at least. Now, he just felt confusion, and shock. He’d been so out of it the past few days, that even other’s had taken notice. It was in the quiet moments, when he’d simply be walking between decks, or eating, that his mind would drift back to that terrible fiery image.
He was taking a nightly walk around the ship, too unnerved by the dragons to think about sleep. So he’d walk, and exhaust himself, before passing out in bed.
“Hello, earth to Sokka!” shouted Toph.
In the hallways of the ship, Sokka bumped directly into Toph before he’d even realized she was there. She pushed him off, and he stepped back, fighting to catch his footing.
“Jeeze, what’s with you, space-case?”
“Sorry,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I, erm, didn't’ see you there.”
“Given that I’m the blind one of the two of us, I find that hard to believe,” she said, folding her arms.
“I wasn’t thinking, alright?”
“Sounds to me like you were thinking too much,” she snorted. “So what’s up?”
“It’s nothing,” he said, resolving to his normal comment he used to brush everyone off as he walked around her. She was not someone to so easily brush off, though. She reached out and grabbed his wrist, yanking him back.
“Ack-- hey!” he said.
“Not gonna fly,” she said. “Not this time.”
“Toph…” he whined. “It’s nothing, seriously.”
“It’s not nothing,” she said. “You always say it’s nothing, but the last time it was nothing was when you had me covered for your contact in Ba Sing Se who didn’t even meet up with us.”
He stifled a small noise in his throat, staring at her with guilt.
“I know you’re tethered, and I’m pretty sure that whenever you’re in a funk, it’s because of that.”
“Oh yeah? How d’ya figure?” he asked, putting his hands on his hips.
“Because, ponytail, it’s always after you’ve spent the whole night pacing in your room and muttering to yourself.”
He stared back, feeling his right eye twitch as he struggled to maintain composure form benign caught.
“You know...I am also planning an invasion here. I could be stressed about that.”
“Oh, you’re right,” she said in mock apology, “planning an invasion on Fire Nation soil, where your tether’s fro--mm!!”
He’d quickly gone to her side and covered her mouth.
“Shh! You want the whole ship to hear you?” he whispered frantically. She laughed and took his hand, which had only been gently cupping the front of her face, off her mouth.
“You mean Katara?”
“Equally as bad if not worse,” he said. “Alright, if I talk to you about it will you then drop it?”
“Whose to say, but I won’t drop it now, so what other option do ya got?”
“...fair enough.”

They traveled up to the quarter deck, as per Sokka’s request. The wind would carry away their conversation, and the presence of the moon comforted him.
“So, spill,” said Toph, who leaned her back against the railing while Sokka faced out to the open ocean.
“...I honestly don't know how to start,” he said, sadly.
“Whatever’s on your mind,” she shrugged. “Something’s been bothering you about this person. I mean, you wouldn’t introduce us to them. Why?”
“I...I thought if you guys met him, you wouldn’t like him.”
“Why? If you’re tethered to him, why wouldn't we like him? Just because he’s Fire Nation?”
“You probably know how Katara feels about Fire nation, especially after what just happened with Aang. It’s the same reason she won’t wear the armor.”
“Oh...right, she mentioned once about her mother, but didn’t go into it. So, you’re scared of introducing him to Katara?”
“Yeah,” he sighed. “But lately...I think it’s been more that I’ve felt like a traitor to her.”
“But you can’t help it. Being tethered, I mean.”
“Does it matter? She’d be furious anyway, and maybe even suspicious of me.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s Fire Nation.”
“Is that the only reason?”
He remained quiet, watching the waves lap against the hull of the ship, breathing in the salty air. She sighed.
“When are you gonna learn?” she asked, folding her arms.
“Huh?”
“That maybe keeping secrets isn’t the best way to go about this?”
“Oh, sorry, yeah, let me just go up to my sister who's currently healing the Avatar from nearly dying by the hands of our enemy that her brother is tethered to the Pri-- people...! Person, from...said Nation…” he lost momentum, inwardly scolding him for the slip up.
“I’m not saying it’ll be easy, I’m just saying the truth’s gonna come out at some point,” she shrugged.
“It’ll never come out,” he said, with bitter determination.
“Why not? Don’t you two want to be together?”
“...no,” he said, coldly. “In fact...I hope I never see him again.”
Toph paused.
“Yikes. Something happen between you two?”
“He chose his side. That’s all.”
They were quiet for a few moments more. Toph moved as if she were about to say something, but turned, her attention caught by something else. Sokka, noticing her attention caught, also turned. His father was walking toward them.
“Good talk, ponytail,” she said, swiftly knocking her fist into his arm, which thankfully was covered in Fire Nation armor. For being only twelve, she was incredibly strong and often accidentally bruised her friends when showing her affection. She walked past his father, her hands behind her head as he walked away. Sokka wasn’t exactly sure why she’d left, but looked over to his father.
“Erm, am I interrupting something?” he asked, also curious about the abrupt exit.
“Not really,” shrugged Sokka. “What’s up?”
“I just came to remind you that if you’re above deck you should probably have a helmet on,” he said, handing over the pointy metal helmet. “We finally found one that will probably fit you better than the others.
Sokka snorted as he looked it over.
“Man, they really love evil spikes on their stuff, don’t they?”
“Not a fan myself. Your uncle already pricked himself several times on the visor before he just took the thing off completely. He’s thinking he’ll swap out for the white face plates.”
“How does anyone wear this stuff and not know they’re the bad guy?” he scoffed.
“War has a way of warping perspective,” said his father, seriously. “What a soldier is told is to follow orders, not think unless it aids the war. It’s the responsibility of the top of command to have the wisdom not to squander their power on conquest.”
Sokka gently tapped his finger on the spike, and it seemed to Hakkoda that his son wasn’t listening. He cleared his throat and the other lifted his gaze.
“Oh...sorry, yeah. I heard you,” said Sokka.
“Even the part about the purple elephant koi?”
“Oh yeah, definet-- the what?” he asked. His father laughed.
“Sokka, what are you doing up? We have men on watch, and you should be asleep.”
“I...can’t,” he admitted.
“Well, fair enough,” sighed his father. “Try on the helmet.”
He did so, and found that it did fit. His father handed him the face place that he struggled to put on for a moment, before he found how to hook it on.
“There! How do I look?”
“Like a regular fire-starter,” said his father, crossing his arms with a smirk.
Sokka slid the face plate off just far enough for him to wink up to his dad.
“Haha! The truth is I’m a fire-stopper in disguise!”
His father chuckled and shook his head, and Sokka smiled for the first time in days.
Momo flew up to Sokka, landing on his shoulder and inspecting the shiny helmet, rapping their little knuckles on the shiny surface before licking their reflection.
“Ack! Momo!” said Sokka’s taking the little creature under the arms and putting him down. His father laughed again.
“Guess you can’t fool those who know you best,” said the man, putting on his own helmet.
“He probably just smells the seal jerky I’ve got in my pocket. Don’t you boy?”
Momo got off Sokka and went to the ground as he pulled out the little jerky, waving it in front of the lemurs face.
“The little guy likes jerky?”
“No, he likes to lick the salt off it. It’s really annoying to see an opened bag of wet, licked, jerky,” he said, and his father once more laughed.

Movement to his left caused him to pause, and he turned to see Aang, awake! Aang was looking back at him with a fearful gaze that confused Sokka for a moment, before he realized they were all still disguised.
“Uh-oh! Someone catch him, he’s gonna--!” called Toph from behind Aang, but too late, Aang fainted. Sokka and Hakkoda caught him by the shoulders, and helped him to the quarter deck.
“Well...that could have gone better,” said Hakkoda.

--

Aang had woken up at last! The joy at having seen his friend awake and above deck turned swiftly to alarm when Aang fainted once more. The poor boy had been in shock from his friends having been dressed in Fire Nation colors and armaments. Sokka couldn't blame him, and when the Avatar next woke up, he explained everything that had happened since he’d been unconscious.
The most shocking piece of news to the young Avatar was not that they’d escaped, nor was it that they were still able to go through with the invasion, but that the world had thought he was dead. Aang did not take the news well, despite the obvious tactical advantage it had over the Fire Nation.
“The world thinks I’m dead!” Aang exclaimed, panicked. “How is that good news? That’s terrible!”
“No, it’s great,” Sokka tried to assure him with a smile. “It means the Fire Nation won’t be hunting us anymore. And even better,” he said, drawing closer to Aang, who stood next to the ship’s railing, “they won’t be expecting you on the day of Black Sun.”
This was an incredible advantage, thought Sokka. To have the Fire Lord’s greatest fear just show up at his front door to take him down filled Sokka with a somewhat childish giddyness and assured him of victory alone. But Aang, for whatever reason, was still taking the news with unabashed shock and apprehension.
“No, no, no, no!” he said, holding out his hands, “You have no idea, this is so messed up!”
Their discussion was cut short by the appearance of a Fire nation ship.
“I’ll handle this. The Avatar’s back.” said Aang, much to Sokka’s disappointment. It seemed he still didn’t understand. The boy had only managed to grab his glider staff when pain suddenly made him body recoil in a wince.
“Aang, wait,” said Katara, perhaps she’d be able to convince the boy better than he had. “Remember, they don’t know we’re not Fire Nation. If we keep our cover, we can get out of this without altercation.”
The idea of a pacifist alternative calmed Aang, and he put his glider away, though with obvious dislike.
So, the children hid below deck, their heads peeking over the quarter deck just enough to hear and see the exchange. Hakkoda and Bato did their best at playing Fire Nation soldiers. Next to him, he could feel Aang tense, obviously aggravated at having to hide. Sokka cast a glance to the boy’s back, remembering the terrible wound that lay beneath the bandages and loose robe he’d been given to cover up. He put a gentle, cautious hand on Aang’s shoulder, and very steadily, forced Aang further down as he’d begun to rise slightly to get a better look.
“I hate this…” Aang muttered.
“You should be relieved that you’re not fighting while injured,” corrected Sokka. This only earned him a disgruntled noise from Aang.
Their ship was boarded, and everything seemed to go smoothly. He couldn’t quite hear the conversation, but their tones had remained even and friendly. Before the real Fire Nation navy had left Toph could just hear their suspicious whispers while they walked across the gangway.
“They know!” Toph exclaimed.
So much for subterfuge.
A fight ensued, and Sokka was left to watch Aang, dragging him up and away from the quarter deck and into the shelter of the helm entrance.
They pressed themselves against the metal doorway, and Sokka kept and ear out as his friends and family did their best to fight. The Avatar, knowing his friends were in danger, was fidgeting, peeking out every now and then, his eyes scanning the battle scene with worry. The other ship was trying their best to sink them, using a trebuchet with flaming oil-covered boulders to take them down. His tribesmen ran out of the way of these flaming rocks, unable to do anything to stop them from crashing onto the deck and the sides. Aang could not sit still a moment longer and ran out from within the cover of the ship.
“Aang, no!” Sokka called, running after him. Smoke brimmed from the surface of their ship where flaming boulders had been launched at them by the enemy. Sokka had just managed to catch up to him, even with the dark smokey cover. He grabbed Aang’s glider to stop him, causing him to turn back as he strongly held onto his staff. “Aang, you’re still hurt,”
“That doesn't matter,” he yelled back. “I need to help them-- I know I can.”
“No, Aang, you have to stay a secret,” he said, sternly. “If word gets out that you’re alive it endangers the entire invasion. Just let us handle this.”
“Fine!” he said angrily and wrenched his glider away. He walked back inside, fuming. Sokka watched him, wondering what the sour mood was for-- after all, didn’t Aang understand the advantage they posed over the Fire Nation? He didn’t have much time to think as the ship was suddenly hit again, forcing everyone above to regain their footing as the boat swayed. Katara was already making quick work of the fire that caught the ship’s deck with the use of her waterbending.
“How we lookin’?” called Toph, who’d also been busy defending the ship.
From the way Katara seemed to have to work double time, defending the ship as well as going on the offense, and the lack on onboard weaponry to help her with, Sokka admitted,
“Things couldn’t get much worse!”

A sudden wave of ocean water reared up, tilting the ship from its force. A great sea serpent, the one from the Serpent's Pass, rose it’s great green head, it’s maw opening to a high-piched roar that screeched out overhead. It looked down at their ship with wild eyes, bent on destruction. Sokka’s shoulders went slack.
“The universe just loves proving me wrong, doesn’t it?” he asked.
“You make it too easy!” Toph yelled back.
It reared itself up, ready to strike a massive blow on the ship, but a boulder from the enemy’s trebuchet knocked into its face, and by some luck, drew the serpent's attention away from the ship it was ready to sink, to the actively attacking one. It sunk down, only to reemerge in front of everyone at the other ship, wrapping it’s long, powerful body around the metal ship and immediately warping it and bending it out of shape. This of course stopped the attacking Fire Nation ship dead in its tracks, and Sokka was much relieved, even going so far as to gaze up and say,
“Thank you, the universe!” with relief.
He let out a breath as their ship safely sailed away from danger.
“What happened?” asked Toph, running over.
“The giant serpent that rose out of the water started attacking the other ship,” smiled Sokka.
“...huh, what are the odds?” she asked, folding her arms. “You’re not pulling my leg, are you?”
“Naw.”
“Then maybe the universe favors you more than you think,” she said with a snort, and walked away.
His smile fell and he turned his gaze back to the sinking ship.

--

They eventually docked at a nearby town, currently under Fire Nation occupation. Disguised as they were, they’d be fine to step out and grab food while everyone else aboard gathered supplies. The gang wanted to step out as well and off the ship, but Aang’s foul mood had lasted long after the attack. They left Katara to speak with him, as she was the only one that seemed to really understand how to drive him out of his bad moods. Sokka and Toph walked away without her.
“Should we wait for her?” asked Sokka, turning back to the ship.
“She’ll catch up,” Toph waved off. “If I know twinkle toes, he’ll probably be talking her ear off about how he feels responsible for all the bad things happening and blah, blah, blah.”
He offered no argument, realizing she was right, and followed after her.
Like Katara, she too had refused the armor. When asked why, there were several good reasons presented. One, they didn’t have armor in her size; two, the armor was uncomfortable even if she didn’t wear the parts that covered her feet; and three, a Fire Nation soldier on deck or just walking about with bare feet was utterly suspicious, so what would be the point if she’d drag attention to herself anyway?
The two found a small noodle stand offering hot udon for an incredibly cheap price. The two sat and were quickly served.
“You know,” Toph started, half way through her meal, “you and twinkle toes are like that, I guess.”
“Li’e wha’?” he asked, his mouth stuffed with noodles. She laughed.
“You both blame yourself for things you didn’t do.”
He swallowed his mouth full quickly to answer.
“I do not,” he said.
“Oh phu-leeees,” she said, catching her face in her hand. “You’re the biggest culprit of that. You’ve been mopey ever since we left Ba Sing Se.”
“A lot happened to be mopey about,” he muttered, turning his attention back to his food.
“Mm, I guess,” she sighed, “but there's something that’s been bugging me ever since we first got out. Just before everything went south.”
“Yeah?” he asked with a sigh, suddenly disinterested in the conversation entirely.
“When we learned Zuko was captured, your heart beat went nuts. Like you were afraid.”
He had been slurping up the thick noodles until she’d said that, before prompt choking in surprise. He bit down, letting the rest rudely fall back in the bowl as he struggled to swallow and breath, coughing loudly.
“I--*cough cough*-- I don’t know what you’re-- *cough*--talking about!”
“After we talked last night, it all kinda clicked. He was your contact, wasn’t he?”
He stared back at her with an offended glare, which served no purpose given that she was blind.
“...that’s...ridiculous,” he muttered, which wasn’t technically a lie, but it also wasn’t an answer either.
She hummed at this, and picked up her chopsticks and began to eat again.
“What?” he asked, irritated.
“Nothing…” she shrugged. “Absolutely nothing.”
The rest of their meal was eaten in tense silence. They’d finished relatively quickly and were heading back when Toph broke the silence.
“You know,” she stared, and Sokka groaned, “I get that Katara and Aang have a history with the guy, and that’s why you feel like you can’t tell them.”
His eye twitched.
“But...you know, if you ever wanted to talk…”
“I never want to talk about him again,” he said with an air of finality. “And since when are you the talking type anyway?
She laughed with a snort.
“I’m not,” she shrugged, holding up her hands in defense, “but what are you going to do the next time you see him? I mean, we’re invading his home-- odds are he’s gonna be there to defend it, right?”
“Are you worried I won’t be able to fight him? Don’t worry, I’m just looking for an excuse to give him the enemy he finally wants.”
“Hey, is it true you guys can talk in dreams if you’re tethered?”
He made a disgruntled noise in his throat, wanting to lie, but knowing full well how useless that was.
“...yes,” he muttered.
“You haven’t talked to him since, have you?”
“Of course not.”
“So why don’t you talk to him about it?”
“What, the invasion?”
“No! You’re break up.”
“We weren’t-- it wasn’t-- why would I do that!?”
She shrugged.
“I dunno, figure out why he did it? Why he turned his back on you?”
“No thanks. I know why. It’s because he’s evil. He’s an evil guy I should have never trusted.”
“Well, even if that’s the case maybe you should hear it from him so that you can stop blaming yourself for what happened.”
“I-I don’t,” he defended weakly.
“I know that’s why you’ve been stopping in on Aang so much when he was still asleep, why you’ve been up so late that you barely sleep, why you’ve been obsessing over the invasion plan and changing small details to make sure it’s perfect.”
“There’s nothing wrong with doing everything I can to make sure everything goes well.”
“Yeah...except for the part where you lose sleep over it. You think everything that goes wrong is your fault, like you’re even in charge of that sort of thing-- and don’t bother arguing,” she said, holding up a hand to him, “you know I’m right.”
“...if you know so much then you know there’s no way I’m gonna do that,” He said, using a finger to gently push her hand out of his face.
“Yeah, probably, but all I’m sayin’ is that talking to him, realizing he’s not worth your time, might make it easier to let him go.”
Sokka hesitated. The thought was entirely outlandish, facing Zuko, after he’d done something so horrible, he couldn't fathom it. Yet, there was a deeper fear, a fear surrounded in fire and royal red robes that made it almost nightmarish to face him. He wanted to stay as far away from Zuko as he could, make sure that nothing like what he saw would ever be a possibility.
Toph allowed him a quiet pause to consider her words. He was ready to head back to his room, when his sister suddenly ran up to him and Toph.
“There you are,” she said, alarm clear in her voice. “We have to go, we have to leave right now!”
“Woah-- woah, Katara, what happened?” Sokka asked.
“It’s Aang, he left!”
“Left!?” Sokka exclaimed, his shoulders slumping. “Wh-where? Where did he-- oh of course!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “He’s gonna try not to drag us into his fight with the Fire Lord, isn’t he?”
“Of course he is. He’ll be headed to the Fire Nation on his own.”
“Wow. How irresponsible,” said Toph, her arms folded, her inflection flat. “Taking on the whole world’s problems without help is completely dumb.”
Sokka stared at her, which, despite her blindness, he was sure she could feel his glowering gaze. Katara looked between the two of them, before shaking her head.
“Hello? We have to catch up to him before he gets himself killed, let’s go!” she said, and led the way to Appa.

--

They’d pushed through the night on Appa, searching the skies and seas for any sign of Aang. Sokka remained at the reigns as Katara kept an eye out for any sign of him. They sat together on Appa’s head while Toph lay in the saddle with Momo.
“Just...I don't understand why anyone thinks they can just take on these things by themselves,” Katara muttered in a huff.
“Aang has a lot of pressure on him,” shrugged Sokka, “he’s always felt like the world’s on his back alone, I guess. I mean, he’s the Avatar. Hard not to feel responsible.”
“He’s hurt. He hasn’t fully recovered-- just who does he think he can help if he can barely help himself?”
“You said that he feels like he failed the world, right?”
“That’s what he said, but he hasn’t, and I don’t know why he can’t just see that,” she said, folding her legs into herself.
“That’s just how it is,” he sighed, “when you have people you want to protect, you don’t want to feel like you’ve let them down by forcing them to protect you too.”
“That’s ridiculous. That’s what a family does. They protect each other and look out for each other no matter what!”
“...no matter what?” he asked, looking at her. She looked back at him surprised. “Even...even if…”
She looked at him, waiting with some confusion. Now was perhaps not the best time, he thought.
“Never mind,” he said.
“No, say it. Even if what?”
“Even...even if they’re...awkward as heck?” he lied.
“Uh...yeah, I guess?” she said, eyeing him, before she turned her gaze back out to the ocean. He let out a breath, resolving that, no , now was not the right time. For now, find Aang. They could talk about it later.

In the very early hours of the morning, they’d noticed smoke billowing from a crescent shaped island. The land mass was small, a newly forming volcano, and the nearest bit of land to be found. They flew down closer, seeing a small body washe dup on the shore of the newly forming island.
“It’s Aang!” called Sokka.

They’d flown down and as soon as Appa touched ground, they all leapt off and ran to the boy’s side. He was unconscious, but just starting to wake up as they approached.
“He’s okay!” Katara cried, throwing her arms around him. Sokka was next, hugging both Katara and Aang, and even Toph joined them. They all seemed to breath a collective sigh at their reunion.
“You really scared us there, pal,” said Sokka, trying to hide the slight tremor in his voice.
“I know,” said Aang, “I’m sorry, everyone,” he pulled back, looking down and away. “I have...so much to do.”
“I know, but you’ll have our help,” Katara smiled at him.
“You didn’t think you could get out of training just by coming to the Fire Nation, did you?” asked Toph. Aang gave her a weathered smile, before a thought seemed to strike him.
“What about the invasion?” he asked.
“We’ll join with my dad and the invasion force on the day of the eclipse,” said Sokka.
Something washed up behind them, nudging Toph in the foot.
“Hey, what’s...oh.”
She held up Aang’s staff. It was damaged beyond repair, having been split in the middle and the wings of it punctured and torn. Aang gently took it from her, looking over the last relic of his people.
“It’s alright,” he said, “If people saw it, it would give away my identity. It’s better for now that no one knows I’m alive.”
He looked over at Sokka when he’d said this, and the boy had offered him an apologetic but thankful smile.Aang hopped away in the next moment, and with a definite act, sunk the staff into the lava rock where hot streams of lava poured round it. The heat alone dried the wood quickly, causing it to catch on fire, and burn away. Aang didn't stay to watch, and merely turned back to his friends.
“Alright,” smiled Toph, “Team Avatar is back, baby!”
“I have to admit, I did miss riding around on Appa,” nodded Sokka, putting a hand to his chin.
“It’s like old times,” smiled Katara, perhaps thankful that things were going back to normal.
“Except this time, we’ll finish this,” Aang said. “The Fire Lord won’t know what hit him.”
Sokka laughed, thankful that Aang finally accepted the mission. The group hugged one more time, and Sokka was so relieved to have everyone he cared about around him, and ready to fight.

Chapter Text

The halls of the palace were dark, despite the fire that lit them up. It was the time of the night, perhaps, that made them seem so dim, and empty. They were the same as they had been when he was young, but now that he was taller, they were less imposing, but still just as lonely.

“Woah!” Sokka had said looking about. It had been one of the rare moments when the boys had been so bold as to sneak out of Zuko’s room. They were asleep, dreaming, but the young prince was still unsure if anyone could see them or not, and didn’t want them to get in trouble. “ This place is huge! This is the biggest place I’ve ever seen!”

“It’s even bigger than you think, but I don’t think we should wander too far.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to get in trouble.”

“But...you live here? Why would you be in trouble for wandering around your own home?”

“Because I just would, okay?”

“Okay, sheesh,” he had shrugged. “Well, no big deal. When you come to visit me, we can go wherever we want. I dont’ have big homes, but there’s still a lot to see. I’ll take you canoe riding.”

“And we can fish?”

“Right!” he had smiled. Zuko smiled back and Sokka ran to his side, throwing an arm around him. “I can’t wait! It’ll be so much fun. Just you and me!”

“Yeah, you and me,” he had smiled.

In the present he shook his head of the memory, ignoring the terrible ache in his heart. His eyes drew up from the red carpet and to the lush red curtain that hung down the entrance to the throne room. The gold insignia of the fire nation loomed over him, and he stared at it a moment, gathering his courage before even approaching it. Still, he knew better than to keep his father waiting. He sighed, emptying his lungs, before taking in a deep breath, training his expression into a stoic look. He parted the curtain then, and entered the dark room.

Columns ran along the dark room, leading all the way to the back, where the Fire Lord, his father, sat before him. Before the poliquin-like throne was a wall of fire, bordered by fire behind it that roared higher than the first. A great golden dragon mural curled about on the wall and glowered down at him with wild eyes and fierce teeth. The image gave him a quiet fright, though he was unsure why. He remembered the throne room, knew it well enough from visiting his grandfather before his passing.

His father sat before him, surrounded in fire, the flames causing the shadows on his face to dance about, masking his expressions and making him seem like a terrifying force of power, a spirit of fire.

He approached and bowed immediately, kowtowing with his head to the floor to honor the position his father held. He prayed his father could not see the slight tremble to his hands as he sat there, his eyes staring at the polished floor before him.

“Your faithful son gives his respects to the honorable Fire Lord,” he announced, as was customary. Funny how easily he could slip back into the formalities after all the years.

“You have been away for a long time,” his father finally spoke. His first words to him in years. “I see the weight of your travels has changed you.”

He could hear his father shift, and kept his gaze trained on the floor.

“You have redeemed yourself, my son.”

Relief washed over his, the words he’d longed to hear for so long, since the very first day of his banishment. He could hear his father approaching him, and lifted his head, as was customary when approached by the Fire Lord. The flames parted as he descended, as if bowing out of the way. The man’s gaze remained trained on Zuko.

“Welcome home.”

“Thank you, father,” said Zuko, kowtowing again.

“Rise, Prince Zuko,” said the man.

He obeyed, sitting up, but kept his head bowed. His father began to pace, and Zuko could feel him circle around him. He remained still, trying to control the curious tremble to his arms. Maybe it was the strain, he’d not kowtowed and held these positions in years.

“I am proud of you, Prince Zuko,” spoke his father. His breath quickened, his father was proud of him? He remained quiet as he continued. “I am proud because you and your sister conquered Ba Sing Se. I am proud because, when your loyalty was tested by your treacherous uncle, you did the right thing and captured the traitor.”

The right thing burned bitterly at his heart. Perhaps when he was more in his father’s favor he could argue on behalf of his uncle, he thought, but pummeled the thought down immediately. Now was not the time to be thinking such things. His father was praising him, this was his moment.

“And, I am proudest of all of your most legendary accomplishment.”

His what?

“You slayed the Avatar.”

His eyes widened in panic. Azula had lied.

“What did you hear?” he asked, daring to speak without permission. His father allow it.

“Azula told me everything. She said she was amazed and impressed with your power and ferocity at the moment of truth.”

Zuko’s breathing had become quick and shallow without him realizing it, his mind turning over why on earth she’d lied. She always lies, but that wasn’t the surprising part. Killing the Avatar was a great feat that would earn power and respect from anyone in the Fire Nation, most of all their father, so why? He snapped out of it in the next moment, realizing his father had paid him high praise and a compliment.

“Thank you, father,” he responded, his voice trained and steady.

“As is obvious by now, you have served your sentence, and your actions have absolved you of all crimes against your Fire Lord and your Nation. I hereby restore your title of Crown Prince.”

“Thank you, father,” he said, and once more bowed his head to the ground.

“Rise, Prince Zuko.”

“Yes, father,” every action he did without question, but harboring silent, curious dread. It must just be nerves, and excitement, he reasoned. His father finished circling him and had come to the front.

“The hour is late, and your journey was long. You may retire for the night.”

“Thank you, father,” he said, and bowed once more, before getting to his feet. The Fire Lord was first to turn his back on his son, as was customary, and Zuko took a few steps back, still bowed, until finally he turned and left. He’d nearly made it to the door, heart hammering in his throat, and when he passed through the heavy curtain, he felt his stomach turn. He walked away, but after a few paces, broke out into a full blown run.

He had wound down several halls, before he stopped, pressing himself against the wall, holding his chest where his heart raced and made his breathing shallow. No one was there to see him, and his ears were trained for even the lightest footsteps of curious servants. 

Azula had lied, had given him the glory of having slain the Avatar. He remembered the vial, the water of the Northern Spirit Oasis that Katara held. Could it be enough, he wondered, could it possibly be enough to bring back anyone from the brink of death? He stormed over to her room.

He opened the door, not even bothering to knock. She remained as confident and cold as he always knew her to be, not even stirring when the light poured into her dark sleeping chambers.

“Why’d you do it,” he demanded, quietly.

“You’re going to have to be a little more specific,” she said, her tone mock carefree, an underlying hint of knowing to it that she held over his head.

“Why did you tell father that I was the one who killed the Avatar?”

“Can’t this wait until morning?”

“It. Can’t.”

With a sigh she sat up in bed, and turned her gaze, not to him, but her nails.

“Fine. You seemed so worried about how father would treat you because you hadn’t captured the Avatar. I figured if I gave you the credit, you’d have nothing to worry about.”

“But why?” he insisted. 

“Call it a generous gesture.”

Kind gestures from Azula did not exist; everything had its price. She stepped out of bed, and continued when he didn't seem convinced.

“I wanted to thank you for your help, and I was happy to share the glory.”

“You're lying.”

“If you say so,”  she sighed, walking past him.

“You have another motive for doing this. I just haven’t figured out what it is.”

“Please, Zuko,” she sighed and stretched. “What ulterior motive could I have? What could I possibly gain by letting you get all the glory for defeating the Avatar?” she turned back, putting a finger to her chin in thought as she spoke, then drew closer to his side. “Unless...somehow...the avatar was actually alive. All that glory would suddenly turn to shame and foolishness.” she left him to return to her bed. “But you said so yourself, that was impossible.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, then turned and left without another word, not even bothering to close her door on the way out.

“Sleep well, Zuzu,” she called. 

He left her room and tore down the hall back to his room. Once there he slammed the door shut.

His sister was setting him up, she’d called his bluff and allowed him to look the fool. She was paranoid, he told himself, paranoid and foolish, but then, so was he. How could he not see that this was something she would do? Angry, feeling suddenly trapped and robbed of the satisfaction of having returned home, he turned and angrily kicked the low table next to the door. It splintered from the force, splitting near in half.

He breathed angrily and grabbed his head.

This wasn’t how this was supposed to be. He was supposed to be happy.

He looked around the dark room, his bed room. The place was stained with memories when cast in the moonlight like this. He angrily lashed out at the lamp at the side of his bed, a fire roaring to life before calming into an even flicker, banishing the memories along with the darkness. 

He was happy, he demanded of himself. He was happy, and fine, and safe. He’d never see Sokka again. The Avatar was wounded so terribly that not even magic water could bring him back, and he was the beloved prince of his home once more. Everything was going to be fine.

-- 

Team Avatar was back in action! Things had felt more normal than they had in weeks since they’d gone back to flying around on Appa. It was a refreshing breath of air, especially for Sokka. Seeing Aang awake, and happy, hearing his sister laugh, listening to Toph throw her barbs and get pumped about the Invasion, had been exactly what Sokka was missing.

Together, they’d infiltrated the Fire Nation home soil without any trouble, using the clouds, and some new cloudbending as cover. The Gaang were feeling pretty positive about how well the Invasion could go as well, seeing as how they’d run into little to no trouble upon landing. They’d wound up taking shelter in a cave but realized rather quickly that living on the outskirts of town could be rather suspicious if they were spotted. Besides that, they were very obviously not Fire Nation children from their clothing alone. So they did what any responsible group of children did when they knew that their identities needed to be hidden; steal.

They’d come across a small laundry service, with many different Fire Nation clothes hung out to dry. There was an older man on guard, but with a strange luck, they were asleep.

Aang had his reservations, and Sokka was worried that Katara might hesitate as well. After all, she’d objected so thoroughly to the armor that he wondered if it extended to--

“I call the silk robe!” she exclaimed, and ran out to nab it before the sleeping guard was any the wiser.

Well, that was easy. Better get out there while the picking was still good.

They playfully ran about, nabbing clothes off the line and ducking back into hiding to inspect their find. It was like a game, despite the dire need for disguises. 

And when they’d done their dubious deed of nabbing new duds, they changed into them quickly. The others laughed and ohh-ed and aw ed at each other in their new Fire Nation ensambles. For Sokka, he’d taken himself a long, dark red, tunic that sinched at the waist with the help of a belt. He exchanged the armor boots for open toed sandals, perfect for how hot it was in this land. He also wore shorts that went to the knees and slightly over. Aang had gone for something a little more complicated, an entire suit that covered his tattoos on his hands. He’d also taken a headband to cover the blue arrow that dipped down his forehead. Katara had chosen a brighter red, a short top and a longer skirt. She’d let her hair out of the braid and allowed it to hang loosely. Toph had gone with a red jumpsuit that might be bedclothes, but when topped with a sleeveless over robe and wrapped in the middle, looked like normal day wear.

“Great!” exclaimed Toph, “Now we can actually go out and get some decent food, and not have to eat cave hoppers!”

“Speaking of which, I’m famished,” announced Sokka.

“You’re always famished,” said Katara.

“That’s beside the point. Let’s test these new disguises out and go get some grub!”

They had a small fortune, money to help float them to buy food and supplies as they went, stolen straight front he fire nation ship that had been commandeered when going through the officers things. Sokka liked to think of it as a generous donation toward ending the war. The others had agreed. 

So, when they’d got to town, they picked up a few more garments and accessories, things to make it seem like they really lived there. For Toph, this was a new headband with the colors of the Fire Nation, to keep her long hair in place. For Katara, this was a new red necklace to help ease the absence of her mother’s old betrothal necklace that would give away her nationality. And for Sokka, this was a small top knot tie. He’d bought it without thinking too much of it, his eyes glancing over the miniature wooden flame piece without thought. He quickly undid his wolf tail, and an obvious signature of his people, and gathered his hair up and back. He tied it in the same bun fashion that the other men in this Nation seemed to wear it in.

He paused before he’d finished, his eyes catching himself swathed in red in the mirror. Yeah, this was still weird, he thought. The memory of long red robes came back to the forefront of his mind. The days had been so nice he’d almost all but forgotten his vision. He shook his head, accidentally dislodging a few hairs that he’d have to gather backup and quickly tied the small bun up with. He couldn’t afford to think of that now, they needed to be subtle, and blend in. 

They walked the streets with the residents being none the wiser. Aang led the way trying to teach them the slang of the nation to help them blend in. Finally, they reached a shop, and Sokka took the lead in going in.

“Oh, we’re going to a meat shop?” asked Aang.

“Come on Aang, everyone here eats mean. Even the meat!” he smiled, pointing to a cowpotomus, which took a large bite of some cooked meats that had been left out for it. This gave the young Avatar the shivers, who stepped back and promised to catch up with them later after finding his own food. Sokka, too hungry to be patient, agreed immediately and ran in.

“Customer!” yelled a gruff older man.

Sokka froze, memories of the Earth Kingdom being drawn forth so immediately that he almost lost his appetite. Almost.

“Coming,” called a voice, elderly and unfamiliar.

“We sittin’ or what?” asked Toph, pushing past Sokka, who’d frozen in the doorway. He nodded after her and sat down as someone came over to quickly take their order.

“Ahhhhh,” smiled Toph, taking in the smells of the restaurant. “This place smells great. Hope the food’s as good, too.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” said Katara, but noticed her brother’s lack of enthusiasm. “You alright?” she asked, looking over. He’d been idly rolling one of the chopsticks in thought until she’d spoke.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Just hungry,” he said, and looked out the window.

“Do you think they serve tea here?” asked Katara, looking about.

“I’m fine with water,” shrugged Toph.

The girls struck up a conversation about something then, and Sokka quietly tuned them out as his thoughts began to take over.

His gaze remained outside the shop, watching people pass by, minding their own business. It was hard to believe they were in enemy territory when everything seemed so normal. He’d expect...well, he wasn’t sure what he’d expected. Evil scowls from everyone? Soldiers at every turn? Evil laughter hanging in the air. Instead, he heard the sound of children playing ball in the street, a baby’s cry somewhere in the distance, and two men laughing at a joke their friend had told. Very normal noises, all strange and familiar. For a moment he closed his eyes. Aside from the different smells, he found it easy to picture himself back at the tea shop. The grain of the wood beneath his elbow was different, he sat on a bench rather than in a chair, but still, if he tried hard enough, he could just picture someone ducking out of the kitchen and approaching him. The memory of barley sweet played on his tongue.

“Order up,” said a server, shocking Sokka out of his thoughts.

He looked to the beef bowl before him, his stomach giving an eager growl at the meal it was about to enjoy. He wasted no time in waiting for it to cool, and neither did his friends. The vinegar and ginger sweetened the salty dish, and he devoured every last bite, down to the rice that made up the bottom half that had soaked up the beef broth with it.

“There’s the Sokka we know,” laughed Katara.

He finished with a sigh, sitting back.

“Told you, I was just hungry,” he smiled. He felt a swift kick from Toph, and he knew it meant she knew he was lying. He winced, but gave a small laugh and turned his attention back out.

“You know,” started Katara, “this place...it’s not what I picture it to be at all.”

“It’s so normal,” nodded Toph.

“Yeah, and lucky for us the food’s not half bad,” said Sokka, reaching over to grab a toothpick from a small cup that offered clean ones.

“I thought that might be your number one priority,” his sister laughed.

“My number one priority is...well,” he looked about the restaurant, deciding it was unwise to speak of it further. “ You know -- but food’s good, and I can’t argue with that. Hmm, you think Aang found something?” he wondered.

“We shouldn’t keep him waiting,” nodded Katara. “Here, I’ll go up and pay,” she said, and held out her hand. Sokka had happened to be carrying the wallet, and handed the pouch over quickly. They rose to their feet and headed out of the shop to wait for their companion, keeping an eye out for Aang.

“So...you gonna tell her?” asked Toph.

“Drop it, please,” he muttered.

“She notices, you know. When you go quiet.”

“I don’t need to tell her because I’ll never talk to him again.”

She huffed and shook her head.

“Talking to you is like talking to a brick wall, sometimes. You’re too stubborn.”

“Me? Out of the two of us, you’re the one who won’t let it go-- ouch!”

She’d knocked her fist into his arm, and he winced, rubbing his sore muscle.

“Fine, go ahead and keep moping. Why listen to me? It’s not like this whole thing isn’t eating you up inside and making things weird between all of us.”

Sokka made a disgruntled noise in his throat, but before he could respond Katara walked out.

“Everything alright?” she asked.

“Just peachy,” sighed Toph, crossing her arms. Sokka frowned, but remained silent as he rubbed his arm.

“O...okay…” said Katara, reading the strange hostility in the air. “Let’s look for Aang,” she said and lead the way.

--

Zuko dreamed of vast grasslands. He dreamed of a scorching sun, and long stretches of dirt roads. He dreamed he rode an ostrich horse, whom he knew was slowly growing more and more thirsty and tired. The road stretched on beyond an old, war-torn field. The field had large disks Earth Bending soldiers used in war, with a hole in the middle, like their national currency. These large disks were twice Zuko’s size, and now so old and weather-torn that they were cracked, and weakened by the constant sunlight.

His mount collapsed all at once, instantly still. He knew he’d have to stop, to wait out the sun and try again at night. There was no hope for his ride any longer.

He took refuge in the shade of these large disks, but the heat followed him. He leaned against the large coin, and as his head touched the back of it, he could hear something, like a distant crowd. The longer he remained, the louder the roar of voices grew, the more he noticed the sound of explosions, the slight tremor and shake to the earth, like explosions. He felt something slither behind him, but the heat grew so intense he could not move. The sun was glaring, the field before him seemed to dance from the heat waves that rose up, his throat was terribly dry.

“Echoes of a long, forgotten, past remain and even ripple out into today,” said a voice, just behind him. He swallowed what little spit his dry mouth provided and turned back. He saw no one, but through the little window in the decrepit coin shape, he saw an oasis. Water spilled forth from the side of a mountain and into a large smooth basin, with lush berry bushes growing around it.

Quickly he whipped around and stood up, hurrying around the coin, only to see that there was nothing, just stretches of open field with dried and dead grass. He looked around himself, confused, and knelt down to look through the hole again. He saw the field. He went back around the other side, and looking through again, saw the oasis.

“They pull, pushing you endlessly toward destiny…”

“Hello?” called Zuko, standing and looking around him. He’d never heard this voice before, it sounded like it belonged to an elderly man. He knelt down and looked back through the oasis, trying to figure out how to get through. He heard something humming on the other side, like the humm of bug wings. He stuck his hand through, his skin greeted with a cooler climate and a refreshing mist from the wind carrying some of the water on the wind in a gentle spray. He tried to push himself further, as if attempting to force himself through. He knew he wouldn’t fit, but even as he went, he’d swore that the hold was shrinking. He tried to get his head through, and it was almost on the other side, but his other shoulder stopped him from going any further, his arm still out and reaching for water he knew was too far off. He wanted to pull himself out, but found he was stuck. He could feel the weight of the disk collapsing around him, around his head. He tried to push out, frantically, but to no avail, he was caught in the middle. He screamed, pounded at the earthen disk, scrambling desperately to kick off as he felt himself constricted, slowly being crushed. Something gave a sickening crack.

Zuko shot up right in his bed, his breath quick and shaky as he looked about his room. It was day, the morning sunlight just starting to peek in through his darkened curtains.

Nightmares, that’s all he was ever greeted with at night now. Sometimes he remembered them, sometimes he didn’t. He remembered this one, and wished he hadn’t. He threw the covers off, feeling slightly claustrophobic, and went to throw open the curtains on his long windows. The sunlight bleed in, and he allowed himself to hunch over on the sill, catching his breath the rest of the way.

He’d tried many things to get them to stop plaguing him. He’d tried eating less during dinner, fearing the rich food was upsetting his stomach and causing nightmares. He tried more water before bed, less water. He tried resting earlier, resting later, but the nightmares came and went all the same, waking him up each morning in terrible distress. He gripped his head as he fought to catch his breath.

His mind replayed the sound of the cracking noise. It was like a crack of lightning. No, it was the memory of it, the memory of watching the Avatar plummet out of the air and fall like dead weight to the ground. He remembered how the water around himself and the Dai Li had risen up, washing them out of the waterbender’s way as she tore through them to get to the boy. She’d held him, she still had the water, their uncle had let them get away.

No one could survive that, he argued with himself.

She had the Spirit Water.

But no one could survive.

No. If anyone could survive, it was the Avatar.

He lifted his gaze, looking out of his room and to the small courtyard framed in by the palace. He was alive, he was alive, and everything he had here was threatened by his very existence. He gripped the sill, unaware of the scorch marks he was bruning into the veneer. He lifted his hands away, only then detecting the bun smell that lifted with them.

He felt himself falling apart. He never knew how to control himself when he was like this, but someone did, he thought, looking back up and out of his room.

--

The prison was dark, damp, and inhospitable. Hay, and a weather beaten mat served as the prisoner’s only bedding. Other than a little wooden stool for perhaps visitors of guards, there was nothing else to be had. A window was above the man, the only source of light during the day, and no source of cover if it rained.

These were Zuko’s first impressions of the cell upon entering. Walking further in, he allowed the door to remain open to add a bit of light to the cell. This way he could see his Uncle, his sad, ragged uncle, with wiry white hairs disheveled and strung over the bald patch on his head. You’d have never known him to be a former general if you looked at him, much less a member of the royal family. He looked like any of the peasants in Ba Sing Se, and Zuko ignored the way his heart twisted at the sight. 

His uncle’s gaze had raised to him, but with one quiet movement, had turned his back completely on his nephew, and remained still. This was not a fearful act by any means, it was tempered, patient, and decisive. In other words, an insult to Zuko’s position.

“You brought this on yourself, you know,” the Fire Prince started. 

Iroh was like the stonework that walled him in; quiet, still, and offering no warmth.

“We could have returned together,” Zuko continued, his voice quiet. “You could have been a hero.”

But instead he’d stood against him, allowed for Katara-- with her Spirit Water, to take away the body of the Avatar. And, when they were safely away, he’d turned his gaze from Zuko in deep shame.

“You had no right to judge me, Uncle. I did what I had to do in Ba Sing Se, and you’re a fool for not joining me.”

A cell was the man’s reward for turning on his country. Where was the Avatar to save his Uncle from his fate?

“You’re not gonna say anything?” he insisted. In the silence, he wondered just how things would have been different if he had run away with them, how his uncle would be free, not confined to a cell like a caged animal. But this was his home, he insisted to himself, but he wasn’t happy, argued another voice, but he had everything he wanted, he pleaded desperately with himself. Overwhelmed by the struggle, he could only think to kick the stool. It clattered against the wall where he then struck it, splitting it in half with a fierce blow of power and fire bending.

“You’re crazy! You’re a crazy, old man!” he yelled, trying to spurr him into saying anything, “And if you weren’t in jail, you’d be sleeping in a gutter!”

The aching silence continued, and he decided he could bear it no longer. He turned and walked out, slamming the door on him, casting him back into the darkness.

The shadows played against his glowering face as he stormed down the hall and finally into the fresh night air.

He’d neither gotten the peace of mind he thought he would, nor the satisfaction of having been right in his decision. This was going to be another sleepless night.

--

“Aang, I’m trying to be mature about this and not shoot your idea down immediately,” started Sokka, “but it sounds...really terrible.”

As it turned out, the clothes that Aang had decided to steal was a uniform of children who went to a nearby Fire Nation academy. While in town, they’d been separated, and the whole afternoon was spent in what felt like a new normal of panicking over where Aang had disappeared to. He’d arrived back at the cave late in the afternoon and told them everything about the school he’d attended. Now that he’d gotten away, however, he was telling the group that he planned to go back!

“Every minute I’m in that classroom I’m learning new things about the Fire Nation,” smiled Aang. “I already have a picture of Fire Lord Ozai,” he said, holding up a very detailed, and realistic portrait of Zuko’s father. Sokka’s eyes widened slightly at the sight, unable to help but note how much Zuko looked like the man. It burned at his heart unexpectedly, “and here’s one that I made out of noodles!” smiled Aang, holding up his art class project.

Pushing his feelings aside he realized he was intrigued by the possibility of intell. It was good to have a sure identifier of the enemy.

“Impressive, I admit, but I still think it’s too dangerous.”

“I guess we’ll never find out about the secret river, then…” sighed Aang. Sokka’s interests perked at this. “It goes right to the Fire Lord’s Palace. We were supposed to learn about it in class tomorrow…”

“Hmm…” he touched his fingers together in thought and leaned in, narrowing his eyes, “I am a fan of secret rivers…” after a brief pause for thought, he relented. “Fine, let’s stay a few more days.”

“Flamey-o, Hotman!” Aang exclaimed, before running off to prepare his things for the next day. Well, the boy was happy, at least. With a sigh, he got up as everyone dispersed to their own private corners of the cave to wind down for the evening. The ink portrait remained where Aang had left it, half-curled up and on the ground next to it’s noodle doppelganger. Sokka picked it up, deciding to roll it up and keep it somewhere safer, afterall, the troops will have to know what the enemy looks like. He picked it up, but instead of rolling it up, he loosely unfurled it, his eyes wandering over the older man’s features.

Ah, so that’s what Zuko’s father looked like, he thought as he fought to keep his feelings detached and in line. In all his time visiting the young prince, he’d never actually seen the Fire Lord before. Portraits were not hung up in the halls of the palace, save for one area that Zuko had always avoided on their daring walks out of his room. His reluctance became clear only after Sokka had found out Zuko’s title.

Ozai’s stare was cold and precise; the air about him reminded him of the night he and Zuko had planned to steal Appa back from the Dai Li. It was easy to see how both Azula and Zuko were this man’s children. Sokka narrowed his eyes at the image as if the man were before him this moment. 

So, this had been the fearsome Fire Lord who’d burned his young son so horribly it had left a permeate and obvious scar. This was the tyrant who’d banished his kid, forcing him to shave his head in a humiliating haircut so that everyone may see his shame and degradation. 

The worst part, this kid-- who should have hated this man, who should have rightly blamed him for everything bad in his life-- threw Sokka away to go back to him. He’d let without a word, dropping him without any warning, after promising he’d change. No, more than he’d change, that he wanted to be with him. He gripped the scroll harder than he’d meant to without knowing, shaking slightly as he seethed at the man’s image.

“Sokka?” asked the voice of his sister from behind him.

“Yeah?” he croaked, surprised to find he was pushing down his sadness.

“We’re going to have dinner soon… you alright?”

“Yeah,” he said, and began rolling the scroll up. “I’ll come help.”

He moved to put the scroll away, but felt her hand on his shoulder.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” she asked, her voice lowered. For a moment, he wondered if Toph had let slip anything, but figured Katara’s temper over the matter would never allow for such subtlety-- not that he could or would blame her. “You’re gripping it pretty…”

He heard the paper crinkle under his grip, and he immediately loosened it.

“Oh...ah, sorry. I’m fine. Just...thinkin’ ‘bout the invasion.”

Though still, he knew she could feel his frantic energy, still trying to push down the anger that threatened to rise from his core and to his eyes.

“You can think about the invasion later,” she offered. “You’ll be more clear headed after some food, here” she reached out and gently put her hand on the scroll. “I’ll put this away.” 

With a moment of effort, Sokka released his grip, allowing her to take it from him.

“Yeah...sure,” he nodded and watched her walk away with it.

--

Another restless night, another forgotten nightmare. He’d woken up to the sound of lightning crackling through the air. He’d felt the touch of someone on his shoulder, accompanied by an ache in his heart. He’d only vaguely remembered the feeling of pounding against an icy brick wall, before benign pulled away, his hands red and raw from scraping against the frozen brick. He was not sure what had pulled him, but had heard deep growls.

These arbitrary pieces of useless information danced around in his mind, taunting him with some feeling of vague importance that he couldn’t contextualize. It was nonsense, he was sure.  

He had everything he could possibly want, everything he could remember having before banishment. People bowed as he passed them, knowing full well to respect him and his title, or else. Yet, his title only felt performative, he was a prince in name-alone, it felt. His real goal lay in the very place it had all started; he wanted back in the war room. His father may have forgiven him, but he still wanted to show the man he was capable, that he could be trusted. He was no longer the disrespectful boy he’d once--

“ He should be on his knees, begging you--”

“Erragh!” Zuko yelled out in frustration, throwing his fists down and sending a wave of hot fire to trail after them. He interrupted the memory, burning it away before he let it take him.

Memories, this place was full of them. It was bad enough his tether had visited him in his room when they were children, but then there were the memories of his mother, memories of his sister and him playing in the halls before she’d really become the manipulative terror that she was. Worse, sometimes they reminded him of the trip to the spirit world he’d taken. He’d wandered through that confusing palace copy, and he hated how familiar the feeling of being lost came to mind when he wandered the real halls, despite the fact he knew exactly where he was and where he was going.

He held his head, leaned over the edge of his bed, not even dressed for the day. Nothing was expected of him, as far as he knew. For today he was stuck in the hell of tedium, left to amuse himself with whatever he wanted. He wanted nothing, he was sure; he was content, he pushed.

A knock sounded at the door, and he turned to the sound.

“What is it?” he shot out in irritation.

“Your highness,” came the voice of a servant, “I have here a letter from the lady Mai for you.”

Curious, he lifted his head out of his hands. After a moment’s pause, he got up and put on his robe that loosely covered his front, and went to the door. Opening it, he found the servant, dressed in dull reds and blacks, bowed over with a gold platter in their hands. Atop it was a little folded note. He picked it up and quickly read it.

Zuko,

I want to see you. Plan something nice,

-Mai

He lifted his gaze, remembering now that in the week since returning home, he hadn’t seen her. Right, he’d forgotten, boyfriends had responsibilities like this. He ran his hand through his disheveled hair, and looked to the servant who remained bowed to him.

Well, he thought, he had no one else to ask.

“What does...one do...on a date?”

The servant paused, and then very slowly, cautiously, lifted their head.

“A...are you asking me, your majesty?”

He felt his cheeks pinch red, and he immediately shook his head.

“Not at all,” he said. “Erm-- send someone to tell the lady Mai to await further details.”

“Yes, your majesty,” they bowed, just slightly lower, before backing up and away. He closed the door, if only to allow the poor woman to stand. He leaned against the door, letter in hand, reading it over again.

Yes, short and to the point, like her daggers. He let out a breath as he wracked his brain for date ideas. Something nice, something romantic. Oh, he thought miserably as he slid down the door, if only his uncle were here to advise him. But-- no, it was time for him to stand up on his own, he thought. He didn’t need his uncle, since the man clearly wanted nothing to do with him. He stared at the messy floor, his thoughts drifting back to Ba Sing Se.

In the quiet, with his private thoughts, he wondered if any of his outings with Sokka could have ever been considered a date. They’d gone to market, they’d eaten meals together, they’d been trapped in the rain together. He could still feel the weight of Sokka’s head against his shoulder, how the short hairs of the shaved parts of his head brushed gantly against the long sleeve of his tea server’s uniform.

Those days were over, those days were locked inside his heart, and soon he’d forget they ever happened, no matter how frustratingly sad it made him. A date with Mei...what did he want to do together with her?

“What do you want?” asked Sokka, the sun setting casting brilliant gold light on his dark skin, catching his blue eyes like light upon the ocean.

He rose to his feet at once and opened the door. Another servant was outside his quarters.

“My lord,” they said at once and bowed.

“Have the kitchen prepare a small picnic basket, but fill it with something nice,” he said.

“Yes your highness. May I ask, your highness, if there is anything specific that you wish to dine on?”

“Uh…” he looked away as he thought. “Yes...pork bao,”

“Of course, your majesty. It will be done.”

“Also, inform Lady Mai to meet me out on the Khaimuk Look Out, and that she is to come alone,” he winced at the last part, it sounded like a standoff.

“Yes, my lord.”

They bowed again as he turned back into his room to get ready.

--

Mai had done as she was told, and had met the Prince at the look out. She’d left her servants to climb the last few flights of natural stairs by herself, and arrived at a small, and rather humble picnic. His back was leaned against a boulder.

Zuko watched her for a reaction, but when none presented itself, Zuko cleared his throat and threw out a hand.

“I thought you might like something small, and quiet,” he said. That was a lie, he wanted something small, and quiet. The smallest of smiles graced her face, and she drew closer to him.

“I’m surprised,” she said and gently sat down on the blanket next to him. “I thought the Prince of the Fire nation might have something a little more...extravagant in mind.”

“Are you disappointed?”

“No,” she said, and scooted closer. “I was expecting a standoff.”

He winced internally.

“But I like this.”

“Mm,” he nodded, unsure of what to say as he allowed her head to rest on his shoulder. They looked out to the stretch of sea before them, their gaze off to the horizon.

“You’re finally home,” said Mai, “and you want to spend our date looking to the horizon.”

“I-Is this not romantic?” he balked, but quickly tried to quiet his embarrassment.

“It is,” she said, her voice even, “but I wonder where your mind is, Zuko.”

She turned to look up to him, and her even gaze made him nervous.

“Erm...are you hungry? I had the kitchen pack us something,” he quickly turned away and began preparing that which was brought. Mai’s eyebrows raised slightly, eyeing the steamed bun that rested delicately on the fine plates that Zuko brought out, along with a small vegetable dish, and began to prepare a pot of tea for them.

“What are these?” she asked, pointing to the buns.

“Pork Bao. I had them while I was in the Earth Kingdom.”

“Peasant food?”

“W-well they called it street food.”

“Please don’t tell me that’s because they roll it in the street.”

“N-no, it’s served in the street, in little stands, and our shop used to serve it too.”

“ Your shop?”

“Yeah, Uncle and I, we used to work in a tea house. Anyway, one of the dishes they served was this pork bun, and I--”

“Sounds boring,” she said, still eyeing the little bun like it were questionable.

“...It was,” he nodded, ignoring that he’d been interrupted. “You’d have to stand for hours, and take orders, and just stand quietly if people were rude or belligerent. I’d constantly be running back and forth to bring food and tea out to people,” his treacherous mind playing the memories in the background as he spoke. He remembered the feel of the serving tray, the familiar weight of a full hot tea pot and little cups of cream and sugar resting on it. “It...wasn’t always bad though. Sometimes, even though I’d be working all day, it would go quickly…” He remembered the smell of honey from the barley sweet tea wafting in the air as he wound his way past the other tables, the din of low conversation in the air as he approached his destination. He’d always stop and watch this person, this return customer, a moment just before making their presence obvious. They’d look calmly out the window as he’d approach to set their order down, and he’d see them out the corner of his eye turn their bright eyes up to greet him. “...sometimes it was nice.”

“Serving tea to strangers sounds like a dull nightmare,” she replied with a flat tone.

He blinked out of his memory, shaking himself slightly and cleared his throat.

“Er...yeah, sorry, I don’t know why I said that.”

“It’s fine. And I’m not hungry,” she said, turning from the food to lean against the large boulder.

“Okay,” He breathed and put the food away.

So they sat there, sharing tea, and looking out to the sun as it continued to draw closer to the horizon.

“You’ve been pretty preoccupied since you returned,” said Mai at last, breaking the silence.

“I…”

“...had a lot on your mind. I know.”

“But,” he bravely continued. “I’m here now. We can still have a nice time, even if I haven’t been around before.”

She turned to him, her mind turning something over that her expression did not communicate.

“I suppose you’re right. I just had wondered if you were still interested.”

“Of course I am,” he said, “This has been...I’m not as used to palace life as I once was.”

She considered his words a moment, before giving a nod. He leaned in, and she turned back to kiss him in return.

“ Ahem ,” came a voice. They parted, looking to Azula who looked back at her brother with a small mix of disgust and impatience. “Zuko, could I have a word with you?” she asked.

“Can’t you see we’re busy?” he asked, and attempted to lean in once more, when his sister’s voice rang out to interrupt them.

“Oh Mai, Ty Lee needs your help untangling her braid,”

They paused again, Mai immediately pulling away as he looked to Azula. Whatever she was really thinking was quietly masked with a small, complacent smile as she stood.

“Sounds pretty serious,” she said, and rose up to leave.

Zuko watched her go, chewing on the inside his lip with some frustration as he turned his gaze back to his sister, who’d thoroughly ruined this date he’d set up.

Azula waited until the girl was just out of ear shot before she spoke, folding her arms again.

“So I heard you’ve been to visit your uncle fatso in the prison tower.”

Zuko blinked, choosing to ignore the fact that she’d made Iroh out to be his uncle alone.

 “The guards told you,” he started, his temper rising. And after he’d specifically told them not to-- ordered them not to. They’d gone against their Prince, and their insolence would--

“No, you did. Just now,” she said.

Embarrassment stomped out his temper, and he sat back down. Everything seemed like that these days, when one emotion would flare up, another would swoop in and take over, swinging wildly in one direction, then the other.

“...Ok, you caught me,” he muttered. “What is it that you want?”

“Actually? Nothing,” she shrugged.

He scoffed.

“Believe it or not I’m looking out for you,” she continued. “If people find out you’ve been to see Uncle, they’ll think you’re plotting with him. Just be careful, dum-dum.”

“Thanks for the warning,” he muttered. “but did it have to happen now ? While I was still with Mai?” he asked, irritated.

“Call it revenge for interrupting my sleep the other night.”

He made a sound of aggravation in his throat that she shrugged off as she walked away. 

Now alone, he turned his gaze back out to the sea. He didn’t feel like returning to the palace, where all those old memories lived and breathed in the halls, waiting to pounce on him as he’d pass. He watched the ocean instead, folding his knees into himself as he noticed hunger biting at his stomach. Begrudgingly, he reached into the basket, and fished out one of the luke-warm buns. Their sponge texture was damp now from the steam that had regrettably settled on its surface. With no other means of sustenance, he braced himself and took a bite.

He noticed the flavors to be a bit sharper than the ones in the Earth Kingdom. The ones the tea shop used to sell were sweeter, and used more chives. These were more sour, and the pork had been cut into chunks, rather than slow cooked and strung apart. He supposed it was due to the short notice; hard to pack several hours worth of low heat stewing in under an hour.

He wondered a moment as he looked out at the vast ocean, why wanting what he did felt off, like something familiar pulled out of shape. It was a simple question, what did he want? Well he chose didn’t he, he asked the memory of Sokka, bitterly. He’d asked, and it wasn’t his fault if what he wanted wasn’t what he or his Uncle wanted of him. It wasn’t his fault his destiny was to return home-- why couldn’t they understand that?

He’d unknowingly gripped the bao a little too hard, the filling spilling out the side and dripping down onto the blanket before him. He groaned, and without thinking, furiously tossed the bao away and off the cliff. He paused, unsure why he’d done that, before lowering his arm and hugging his legs closer to himself, fending off the sadness.

--

A dance party, the Avatar wanted to invite Fire Nation brats from the school to a big cave dance party. It was all a part of his plan to change this place for the better, to introduce dancing and fun, and self expression. Well, Aang was the Avatar, and if a peaceful way to introduce some good into this country meant holding a dance party, well, what was the worst that could happen?

The party was underway and already the children from the school, with much encouragement from Aang, had begun to dance. From the amount of people that showed up, and from the varying age range, it was apparent that the whole school had been invited. Many of the children kept their distance from Sokka, who still wore the beard of his guise, Wang Fire. He’d worn it earlier when Aang, whose cover name was Kuzon, had been called to the principal’s office of the academy. He’d kept it on, not only because it was glued to his face, but because of the false bravado and sense of importance it brought him when he’d stroke it. It was a nice moment, to pretend to hold some authority, like a character out of a play. He stroked it thoughtfully as he watched the merriment, taking it all in with a sense of pride.

He watched Aang from the side lines, leaned against the cave wall and out of the way of the dancers. The place was brightly lit with many, many, candles that were placed around the whole room. Next to him, seated at a table Toph had made from her earthbending, was said earthbender and his sister. Toph had really gone all out, he thought, looking to the musician’s stage, where the platforms varied. There were other tables for people who were tired to sit at that ran along the wall of the cave. His sister had made small ice sculptures with some juice they’d bought in town for thirsty party goers.

As for Aang, he was excited to be able to teach century’s-old dances to new people, and was having the time of his life. He zipped about like a dance instructor, excitedly showing off new moves for everyone to follow along with, encouraging and smiling the whole time. In this moment, he was not the Avatar with the weight of the world on his shoulders, he was a kid, enjoying kid-things, and making friends. He was a spark of life, making people laugh and happy to show off what he knew. 

Sokka side-eyed his sister, who watched Aang with admiration, and perhaps something else. It looked soft, like love, and possibly a crush. While it had always been obvious what the young Avatar’s feeling’s were for his sister, she’d always shown a great deal of care for Aang in return, but never in the way it made it obvious that she returned the feelings-- or at least, not in front of her brother. He looked back out to the dance, where girls were grouping with their friends, slowly going through the steps together, while it seemed the boys fended for themselves, flailing about and laughing as they ran into one another. Then, with some encouragement from Aang they started to mingle at the center of the dance floor, a happy mix of children all teaching, laughing, flailing, and the music accompanied their happy noises.

“This is incredible,” he was just able to hear his sister over the music, and he had to agree. When was the last time they’d had a party? Certainly there had been feasts along their adventures, and there had been the party the Earth King had held, but they hadn’t been having fun at the time. Much of that was for “saving-the-world” related business.

His attention was drawn to Aang, who returned only to offer a hand to dance with his sister. He watched the exchange, and how eventually his friend was able to pull his sister to dance in the crowd with him. Eventually, Aang and Katara began to draw the eyes of everyone in the room. 

Sokka was sure these were bending katas they were showing off and not real dances, but that didn’t seem to distract from their movements. The way they moved with each other was breathtaking to the crowd that watched them. All eyes were on the both of them, and Sokka could read their relationship through their exchange; two people who’d been through so much, who exchanged the spotlight answer always there to catch one another when they’d fallback. They moved in perfect harmony, even when separated for the moment to flip or spin on beat. Neither needed to speak to know where the other needed to be. Watching them, one would almost think they were the soul mates and not...

He gripped at the space above his chest, the warmth of the cave suddenly distant, like being on the outside of everything. Lonely in a crowded cave. He turned and walked out, hoping to feel the cool night air on his skin rather than the warmth of the cave. It might clear his head.

He stepped out and to the small slow river that passed by the cave. He knelt down to the water and used it to clean the glue that held his bead in place off himself. As much fun as it was to envision himself older and with facial hair, it was suddenly too itchy and stifling. He dunked his head in and scrubbed. Finished, he lifted his head back out and felt his hair fall around to frame his face. He clicked his tongue in annoyance and searched the river bed for the small cheap fire nation headpiece that had fallen out. It had held his hair up in the small top knot. He started to try and wind it back up, but found it a hassle when his hair was so wet. He opened his eyes, looking down at his reflection as he held it up once more. The hair on the sides of his head had grown out, this was a conscious choice to make him seem less suspicious. The wolf’s tail was a hairstyle warriors of his tribe wore and grew into, and was very distinctly Water Tribe. He ran his hand over the parts where his short hair had grown in, allowing himself the selfish moment to wish he could shave it. Dressed in red as he was, though it was far from the fineries he’d seen his double dressed in, it still unnerved him.

The vision had unnerved him for many reasons, it seemed wholly unnatural to think that after what Zuko had done he’d ever willingly return to his side. But worse, it broke his heart that in the quiet moment’s he’d think of Zuko’s hand on his chin, on his cheek, his arm wrapped around him.

As the images played in his mind he felt a flare of anger in him that made his hand grip into a fist, and then slann into his reflection.

“Stupid!” he whispered harshly, feeling the river rocks press into his knuckles, his image distorted and warped. He pulled his gaze away and up to the waning moon. He let the droplets from his wet hair fall around him quietly, allowing the chill of night to clear his mind. Well, not quite, he thought, looking up to the moon. A comfort most times, he only felt lonely now, under her waning pale light. “You should have been my tether,” he whispered up to her. “If I was going to lose someone anyway…” he said, feeling a tear slide down his face, “then at least it should have been you.”

There was no comfort out here, and he might as well let the dancing inside distract him. 

--

Moonlight leaked into his Uncle’s cell. Zuko had returned, A nightmare had shocked him back to consciousness, and he knew he wouldn't be able to fall back asleep. Desperation had driven him to visit the prison. His uncle had turned his back on him again. He knelt down with a small basket in hand.

“I brought you some Komodochicken,” he started, passing the basket forward. His uncle didn’t move. “I know you don’t care for it, but I figured it beats prison food.”

He was quiet, waiting for any answer he was sure would not come. He’d not heard the man’s voice since Ba Sing Se, telling the enemy to escape. Then he’d withheld from his nephew.

“I admit it,” Zuko whispered, just loud enough so that he might be heard, his eyes cast to the ground. “I have everything I always wanted...but, it’s not at all how I thought it would be. The truth is I need your advice.”

The stillness drove him forward. He reached out and grabbed the bars, pressing his face closer.

“I think the Avatar is still alive,” he whispered. “No I...I know he’s out there,” he said, his breath quickening. “I’m losing my mind. Please, Uncle! I’m so confused-- I need your help…!”

The man was so distant in his cell, sitting up against the opposite wall, the shadows of the bard lay against him. Here he was, pleading for help from him, needing answers, needing guidance. His uncle should be happy to help him, happy that anyone was visiting him in his cell.

Guilt tore at Zuko’s heart, reminding him exactly why it was his family member was here in the first place.

The silence wore on, and Zuko slammed his fist on the bars, a sharp rattling rung out, but his Uncle didn’t even jump.

“Forget it!” he said, pushing himself up and away from the bars. “I’ll solve this myself! Waste away in here for all I care!”

He left the prison, walking back to the palace on his own, his fists gripped so tightly he could feel his nails indent in his skin, but not the pain of it. His mind reeled with what to do.

A sound, like large scales slithering over a rocky surface, sounded from off to his right. Surprised, he turned and looked around in the darkness for any sign of movement. All was still in the warm night air. He felt his heart thump in his chest as he tried to get his breath to even out, he was jumpy-- lack of sleep was obviously the culprit. Whatever that noise was, it was nothing. He turned to walk again, but only managed a few steps before a soft but deep growl rumbled somewhere behind him. He whipped around again, his eyes now frantically searching the shadows.

“...who's there?” he whispered, cautiously.

“Fates within the blood…” something whispered back from the darkness.

He raised his hand and summoned a flame to his palm with a deep breath. It blazed and sparked, and he searched the dancing shadows for any one. Alone as he was, he was susceptible for any kind of ambush. But he was home, in his own territory, no one should want to attack him. No one except…

“...Azula…?” he breathed.

No answer, but still more slithering, then, nothing.

A pause, a stillness in which he could hear his heartbeat in his own ears. He heard footsteps then, and decided to retreat into the shadows of the bordering forest. He stepped back, pulling the cloak he wore close to his frame and she stood behind a tree. Two guards walked up along the path quietly speaking to one another.

“...heard it was the assassin. You know, the one with the specialized bending?”

The other guard gave an involuntary shiver as he spoke.

“Zhu-Rin? I’d hate to think he was back in the Fire Nation.”

“That was the detective’s only guess,” the other shrugged.

“Zhu-Rin is unstoppable. Hope you’re not on anyone’s hit list, Rei…”

“That’s not funny…” the other sighed as they walked off.

An assassin, wondered Zuko, quietly. Perhaps he wouldn't have to be the one to take care of the Avatar-problem himself. He heard the sliding of scales again, but his mind was too preoccupied to give concern to hallucinations. Besides, he’d have to be as quiet and stealthy as any snake if he wanted to pull this off right, anyway.

--

Satisfied at least that the beard had washed off, and willing to let his hair dry before pulling back up, Sokka walked back into the warmth of the cave. He pocketed the hair piece as he’d walked in, and was headed toward his friends, all sitting together at a table. Their gaze was pointed to the dance, as if looking for someone, probably him. He took in a breath, hoping to mask his sadness for the sake of the party. He took in one breath, then another, but found he wasn’t ready. Heartbreak, it seemed, was a difficult feeling to nudge aside. 

Around him, people were still dancing about, now going all out after having seen such an amazing display from his friends. He leaned back up against the wall, near the entrance, figuring he’d keep an eye out for trouble and let everyone else enjoy the festivities. His friends would spot him eventually, maybe it’d give him time to bury his sadness and put on a better face.

As he waited, he felt someone approaching. He turned, his eyes catching sight of black locks and bright gold eyes, and for a moment, his heart skipped a beat. It took another second to realize he didn’t know this person who smiled at him. Their hair was pulled into the normal bun men wore here, but with the exception of bangs that playfully skirted just above his right eye and parted to that side. They were roughly Sokka’s height, if not an inch or so taller. He worried that they’d seen him taking the beard off and had somehow suspected them of being invaders. He stared at them, waiting, suspicious, which made them give a sheepish smile in return.

“Erm, hey,” they greeted.

“Hey,” said Sokka, a bit stiff in tone.

“I haven't seen you at our school, you new?” 

“Er...yeah,” he said, now relieved of suspicion.

“Oh, well, I’m Jin,” he greeted with a more confident grin, holding out a hand for Sokka to shake.

“Sokka…” he greeted back, shaking the boy’s hand. Jin gently gripped Sokka’s hand and thumbed back to the dancers behind him.

“Wanna dance?”

Sokka looked from the boy’s hand, to the dancers behind him.

“Erm...I don’t dance,” he shrugged back at him.

“Neither did any of us before we got here,” the other laughed. His laughter was completely light, without burden to turn it sour, “Are you shy?”

“I-I’m not shy,” he responded, surprised.

“Well…?” he asked, letting go of Sokka, taking a few steps back, but his hand still raised, as if now giving Sokka the option of whether to follow or not. 

He felt himself in an odd position, looking to this stranger’s invitation to have fun. He remembered a moment in time, the backdrop of it colored by the wall of the second ring of Ba Sing Se, his own hand out to invite Zuko into trouble and fun.

He wanted that memory gone. 

He smirked back at Jin and took his hand. He was at once pulled forward and into the crowd. Before he knew it, he was in a sea of bodies, a clearing just big enough for him and his new dance partner to follow along with the others.

Sokka had some practice dancing before in his life, the dances of his tribe relied heavily on beat and the placement of the foot. There were traditional dances, like the ones he remembered at the celebration of his sister’s discovered bending abilities, but those were sacred and not meant for fun but for blessing. There hadn’t been much in the way of music when he was younger either. There were drums, and one of his aunts had a long necked string instrument that she’d carve out beautiful melodies on, like the sad cry of the winds that rolled along the icy wastes.

Alright so he’d never really danced for fun in his life, a fact that never crossed his mind until he was amongst the other boys and girls. Still, he had at least danced before and knew how. His ability to follow along was a bit easier than even his new dance partner, who looked over at him with a wide unabashed grin.

“Hey, you’re good at this,” said Jin.

“Yeah, well,” shrugged Sokka, taking the compliment with his own rakish grin, “this isn’t my first time.”

“Oh yeah, what else you got?”

“I dunno if you can handle it,” joked Sokka, shaking his head.

“Oh don’t worry, I like a challenge,” the other grinned back, their gaze field with determination. The sight made Sokka’s heart flip in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. Right, time to play it cool. So, breaking off from the ancient Fire Nation ballroom dances, Sokka’s feet began to move more quickly, stepping to the beat, and even weaving in the half beat intervals. Jin had stopped dancing to watch him, only going so far as to bop to the beat as Sokka danced before him. He’d finished with a hop and spin, coming back to face his partner with a smirk. When he’d landed he clapped and dipped, rocking his shoulder forward, before pulling it back on the beat. Somewhere along the sidelines he could hear his sister yell, unable to help herself but “chee-hoo” (an exclamation of great excitement his people used as a cheer), and he shook his head at that, unable to keep from smiling. 

“Go Sokka!” he heard Aang yell.

Jin laughed, impressed, and a few of the others looked over with their eyebrows raised and smiles of surprise on their faces. Jin did his best to repeat the moves, tripping over himself, but did manage to jump and turn, and clapping, did dip down, before awkwardly pulling back up, all off beat.

Sokka laughed, and to his surprise, so did Jin.

“Not great?” asked the boy.

“Off beat, but only slightly,” joked Sokka.

“You make it look easy,” the other smiled.

“Let’s try something simple,” Sokka offered. “Come on, just rock to the beat, shoulders first.”

“Okay,” he said and started to follow along with Sokka’s movements. They rolled to the left, then on beat, rolled to the right. They did this a few more times, and Sokka shook his head.

“Looser,” he commanded over the music. “You gotta roll like the tides. Feel it out,” he said, and walked behind him. Lightly he put his hands on the other’s shoulders, and on the beat they both leaned left, then right. “The roll starts in the side body,” he said, putting his hand on the other’s hip like an instructor would, “then just let it flow through you like a wave,” he said, and they leaned together with Sokka’s guidance.

“Hey, I think I got it,” Jin said back, rolling again.

“Doin’ good.”

Sokka took his hand off, but the other boy reached back and caught his hand that had been on his shoulder. Jin turned back to him, still holding it. 

“Alright, alright,” nodded Jin, “What about this move?”

He drew Sokka’s hand up and led him to twirl. Surprised, Sokka still went with it, not wanting to disturb the flow of dance. When he’d spun, the boy gently, but forcefully pulled at him, and Sokka couldn’t help but step forward, feeling the other’s hand on his lower back. The touch alone sent his heart into his throat.

“I just saw Kuzon pull off that move,” Jin winked.

Moment ruined by the mention of his friend putting the moves on his sister. He tried to put it out of his mind, coughing a short laugh and looking away, feeling a small heat to his cheeks.

“You know,” Jin continued, still holding Sokka as he began to rock his shoulders in the way Sokka had been teaching him. “I’ve never seen anyone with your eye color.”

“Oh...yeah, well...we’re from the colonies,” he deflected casually.

“The colonies, cool,” the other nodded. “Never been there. What’s it like?”

“Very...colonial,” he said, thinking that perhaps Jin was getting too close to him. Jin chuckled.

“Not much for talking, are you?”

“I’m just, you know, enjoying dancing,” he shrugged, avoiding his gaze.

“Alright,” he relented with a smile. He let go of Sokka, and they parted just enough so that they might follow what the dancers around them were doing.

The talking over, Sokka paid more attention to his partner. Jin was a terrible dancer, and despite the fact that Sokka would laugh, Jin would always join in with him, sharing how ridiculous he looked. The way this boy smiled, the way he laughed and danced with him, it was wonderful, and fun, but also so painful in moments. He found himself missing Zuko as the dance wore on. He wondered why, especially when he was sure Zuko would never ask him to dance. But he would ask Zuko to dance, and Zuko might, if this were Ba Sing Se, if he hadn’t betrayed him and come with them, if he hadn’t thrown him away like he did.

“Hey,” said Jin, catching Sokka’s attention as a thoughtful look came over him. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, sorry, I’m just thinking.”

“I thought you wanted to do dance,” he teased lightly. Sokka smiled back.

“I can do both. I’m not the beginner, remember?”

“True, true,” he nodded. “Can’t forget when I’ve got two left feet. Still, I’m having fun, I just hope you are too.”

Was he, he wondered. Well he wasn’t when his mind was pulled back to Zuko. But why should he think of him, especially where there was someone who actually wanted to be around him dancing with him.

“I am,” he decided.

They drew closer together, but a commotion at the front cut the music short and drew everyone’s attention. An older man, accompanied by a small guard of Fire Nation soldiers, were at the front.

“He’s the one we want,” yelled the old man, “the boy with the headband.”

At once he saw someone run through the crowd as the soldiers started running in to follow. It must have been Aang, which meant that the party was over. It was time for him to go. He turned to run, but Jin turned back to him.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“That’s my friend they’re after,” Sokka whispered. “I gotta go,”

“Will I ever see you again?”

“Probably not,” he said, ignoring the way his heart fell from that.

“Well, then,” Jin took a step forward and boldly kissed Sokka’s cheek. The other stood struck dumb in surprise, his breath having been absolutely taken from him by the action. “Go find your friend, we’ll all cover for you. And thanks for the dance,” he winked.

“Uh-huh,” he nodded, barely registering what Jin had said.

“Sokka!” he heard his sister hiss at him from somewhere to his right. His arm was grabbed by her and they hurried off together. He turned his head back to see Jin donning the school uniform’s waist sash as a headband with the other children to allow cover for Aang’s to escape.

His heart panged in regret as he turned and ran further into the cave.

Appa had been hiding on the other side of the cave, which Toph bended to create another opening for them. They hopped on Appa and flew off into the night, forced to find a new place to sleep.

“Whoo,” sighed Toph. “Good party, Twinkle Toes. I think you really did help those kids. You taught them to be free.”

“I don’t know, it was just a dance party, that’s all.”

“Well that was some dance party,” Katara said, and leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek. Aang blushed as she pulled away, a sheepish grin on his face. “You even got Sokka out there and dancing,” she continued, looking to her brother. Speaking of which, what’s up with your hair?” asked Katara when he’d returned. “You really cut loose out there?”

“My...oh!” he reached into his pocket. Figuring his hair was dry enough he tied it up. “It fell out when I scrubbed off the beard.”

“Saw you dancing with someone,” she pressed, leaning in. “Didja have fun?”

The others laughed as he grimaced at her.

“You love to tease me, don’t you?”

“I am your sister,” she laughed. “Relax, I think it’s nice to see you actually have fun every now and then. Especially with the weird mood you’ve been in lately.”

He scoffed and looked away.

“Well don’t get used to it-- after all we have a schedule to keep up. This delayed us, but I think with careful planning we can make it there on time-- if not earlier! Oh! Wait, I think I have an idea how we can save time, too!”

“Guess the fun really is over,” Toph muttered. The others laughed.

Chapter Text

Snow drifted softly down around the young Prince’s frame. He woke to the stinging cold that nipped at his skin. He sat up in the white tundra, looking about him with confusion and he quickly brushed the wet snow off him. He held his arms and stood, his eyes glancing over the small abandoned village. He shivered, his breath coming out in great clouds before disappearing.
The remains of Southern Watertribe yurts lay scattered and torn along the ground. The communal fire’s coals looked as though they had been kicked and scattered. A child’s toy lay half buried in snow, its clothing and burlap scorched to the point where the stuffing had fallen out.
“...Hello?” he shivered and looked up and around. The area looked empty, and as he turned he could see why. The wall of snow the villagers used to block off the wind had been brought down, as if someone had run their battleship right into it.
He hugged his frame, trying to retain some warmth as the freezing winds blew over him.
The snow, which had drifted lazily past him, now rode the wind and coated him. The pure white dots turned grey, and then black. Zuko lifted his hand, which was unprotected and red from the frost that covered it. The black ash melted on his skin when combined with the snow, creating black steaks that ran down his face, his hair, his clothing, coating him. He looked up to the sky, trying to figure out the strange nightmarish anomaly.
His attention was caught by the fact that the skies were clear, the blue of them turning a sunset color of red and orange. He’d seen sunsets in the south, had seen the skied turn pink, purple, then a deep night blue. They were not the strange orange color that began to turn red as it crawled along the sky at a rapid pace. That’s when he saw it. What he at first thought was the setting sun turned out to be a comet that was now careening across the sky at a terrible rate. The ash continued to fall, the pure white landscape marred by the spots of black that seeped into the frozen wastes.
Something heavier began to fall around him; the bodies of sea birds. They were coated in the ash, unable to move, or dead from impact. The prince heard the small bodies collapse with only a thud, pelting the area around him. He covered his head, running out of the way of the falling bodies and to a mostly standing yurt, whose animal skin covering bounced the bodies off or allowed them to slide gently down.
“What’s happening…?” he breathed, his eyes scanning the nightmarish landscape for any sign, any answer.
The oceans were stained with the black color as well, that coated the waters and created oil-slick looking surfaces. Shapes began to surface, fish that had run out of air going belly-up and floating limply along the current, being pushed to shore.
At a distance, along the ice floats, he saw a great creature running toward him. Their feet danced along the surface of the water like the aurora lights and drew closer. Four paws, eyes as cold and distant as stars, he knew this being.
“Iwei…” he whispered, watching.
The bodies had stopped falling, and he wanted to run out, to meet the creature, but a sudden thrum of ice cracking beneath his feet gave him reason to pause. He froze, and to his horror so did Iwei.
The great spirit barked, as if calling for Zuko to run. He didn’t dare, too afraid of cracking it further. Yet, another terrible crack, and feeling ice cold water around his ankles spurred him into an all out run. The jaggad crack that had formed now snaked out, as if it were specifically after him. He ran to the ocean, to the black, slick, ice melts, gasping the cold air as if bit at his lung, making every breath burn. Then, as he got to the shore, he leapt for one of the icy platforms, something bursting out from under the surface after him. The great serpentine body of something roared out, its screeching call hurt Zuko’s ears and left a sharp headache when it stopped. Zuko’s body hit the ice with a “whump” knocking the air out of him. The icy platform shifted from his weight, slowly threatening to capsize and send him into the frozen waters. Iwei was already on their way toward him, and he fought to climb further up on the melt, only for something sharp to clamp down on his ankle, and drag him screaming into the dark depths.

--

Zuko shot up in bed, yelling, struggling out of the sheets that had tangled him up. It took a moment, as he took in the room, the heat of summer on his skin, and the sound of knocking at his door to shake him from his nightmare.
“What? What is it?” he called.
“Is everything alright, my lord?” called a servant from the hall.
“Everything’s...everything’s fine,” he responded, and used his foot to shove the rest of the tangled, sweat-stained sheets off the bed. He drew his legs up and hugged them to his chest as he sat in the silence.
He sat there as he tried to recall his dream, but in the seconds that ticked by, more and more of it began to fade into the background, and he wondered what had even been the cause of his waking.
Perhaps it was nerves, he’d taken a trip down to the docks last night. After several days of searching he’d found the man known as Zhu-Rin, or the Invisible Bender, as he was known. His specialty was some form of bending Zuko had never even heard of before he’d started asking around. A firebender who could focus his breath and energy with such force that he could launch it a great distance from himself, and then bend it to combust at his target, creating an explosion that only he could control the magnitude of. Therefore he could keep to the shadows, and so long as he had eyes on his target, he could create a deadly blast and easily make his get away in the confusion.
Zuko replayed the memory of their meeting in his mind, how quiet the assassin had been, how he'd not responded to a thing Zuko had said, except to nod when asked if he’d accept the job. He’d given him instructions, specific instructions, to not hurt the Water Tribe boy that traveled with the Avatar. He did now know if he’d trust him to do such a thing-- but what choice did he have, he wondered, feeling himself turn cold in the mid-morning heat.
There was another knock at his door.
“I said everything’s fine!” he yelled.
The door opened all the same, and he saw his sister standing in the doorway, looking down on him in his disheveled mess. Her lip curled at the state of his room before returning her gaze to him from over her nose.
“Living outside of the palace has changed you. Didn’t know you lived like an animal now.”
“What do you want?” he shot back, sitting up and allowing his legs to cross before him.
“Jeeze, so hostile. I was wondering if you were going to come have breakfast. Mai and Ty Lee are here, and seeing as how you're dating one of them, I figured you might actually want to come along? Don't say I never did you any favors.”
“Breakfast with the princess, what a favor,” he shot back with dark sarcasm.
“Sorry, am I interrupting your plans to go hunting on all fours like a rabid dog? What are you, a southern water peasant?”
“Don’t call them that,” he said, his voice raised.
Her expression shifted from disgust to intrigue; one eyebrow raised in cruel interest as her gaze became more sharp.
“Sorry...what was that?” she asked. “Don’t call them...what? Dogs? Peasants?” she stepped in. “Aww, Zu Zu, do you have a soft spot for the lesser peoples after all that time banished?”
A moment passed between them before he turned and shot out of bed, storming over and past her to his closet. She snorted at the display, clearly un-threatened.
“Your time in exile really has changed you.”
“I don’t need you here to point that out,” he muttered, opening his closet to rifle through what remaining nice robes he had left that were strewn about the floor. “I’ll come to breakfast if it’ll get you out of my room,” he said, pulling something off the hanger.
“Then I’ll get the royal valet to dress--”
“I’m not a child. I don’t need someone to dress me.”
“It’s not about if you can dress yourself or not. It’s a symbol of status--”
“It’s annoying,” he snapped back.
She stared back at him, her arms still folded, but with a flat look on her face.
“You are intolerable before you’ve eaten,” she said.
“You’re intolerable always,” he muttered as he pulled himself and his things behind a large dressing screen. It seemed she wouldn't leave, and she was much easier to handle when she had the distraction of her friends. “Why are you still here?”
“Because I still have business with you,” she continued, stepping further in and looking around.
“What about?”
“About what exactly you were doing returning to the palace so late last night.”
Zuko froze in his actions, the sash he wore to sinch the lower pant part interrupted by her comment. His mind raced with what to say.
“I...visited Uncle again.”
“I’ve warned you about that.”
“I understand the warning, but he’s family,” he deflected, remembering how he’d told the old man to rot for all he cared.
“No, Zuko,” she said, wandering closer to his small standing table just under his mirror. “He’s a traitor. You have to do something about your soft heart for the old dudder before it ruins your reputation.”
“What do you care for my reputation?”
Her foot nudged against something then, a small back book. Her eyebrow quirked in interest and she bent down.
“I care for the sake of family. The whole country looks to us, Zu Zu, or have you forgotten what being a Prince even means?”
“I haven’t forgotten. In fact, I’m tired of all the peacocking, the feasts, the free time. I feel less like a prince and more like a palace pet.”
She snorted as she opened the book, her eyes glancing over the lines of poetry with sudden disinterest.
“Oh please, what makes you say that?”
“The meetings. I haven't attended a single one since I’ve been back.”
“What interest could you have for stuffy old men talking politics?”
“The same reason you seem so keen on attending almost every meeting as well,” he said, stepping around the screen. He was in his royal red silks with the shorter sleeves, but still wearing at least four layers. A black fan was stuffed in his thin gold embroidered belt that tied in the back. He went and stormed over to his small mirror, taking up his hair ties and began work on pulling his black strands back. “I’ve been out there in the world, Azula. I have knowledge and intel on people, and places. I could be of use to the council.”
She snorted at this.
“I’ll let father know the next time he wants to conquer an Earth Kingdom farm house.”
The sound of a page flipping turned Zuko’s gaze to her actions. He abandoned his hair and rounded on her. His heart leapt into his throat as he watched her turn to the front page. He snatched the little book out of her hand so fast that it shut around her finger pinching it a moment before he yanked it fully from her grasp.
“Ouch,” she said, flatly, simply waving the pain off.
“Are you ever not a pest?” he demanded, stuffing the book into the fold of his robe.
“Temper, temper, my goodness. No need to hide that you like poetry so much.”
He didn’t answer, only crossed to his mirror and finished tying up his hair. He set the small golden crown atop it, and using a long, sharp, golden hair pin, set it in place.
“There,” he said, half expecting her to be rummaging through his things once more. “I’m dressed. Let’s go.”
“Finally,” she muttered, and they left.

--

“A meteor shower!” exclaimed Aang. “It’s when you get to see tons and tons of shooting stars go flying across the night sky,” he smiled.
The team were currently sitting around a campfire, enjoying the late afternoon with an early dinner of fish Katara and Sokka had managed to pull from the river not far from them. The fish were now roasting over the open fire, sticks jammed into their mouths. Aang had opted for the tofu they’d packed from the last village.
“Wow. Sounds fun,” muttered Toph flatly.
“Maybe we can describe them to you,” suggested Aang, apology clear in his voice. Toph huffed out air with a shrug.
“What’s the point?”
“So that you can know what they look like.”
“No thanks,” she said.
Sokka said nothing as he ate, watching the awkward exchange with a hint of amusement. Toph was not one to take help easily, and knew Aang’s nature was to help endlessly. There were problems when Aang would do his best, accidentally over-stepping Toph’s boundaries to try and help more than was necessary at times, especially when it came to things like viewing the stars, reading, or even describing the landscapes they flew over. For Toph’s part, she seemed like she’d rather not know about it than know what she was missing out on all together.
The conversation continued, and Sokka was content to listen to the happy noises of his friends, when he felt his sister nudge him.
“Seems like you’re in a better mood.”
“Are you kidding me?” he smiled over at her, “Of course I am. No more pollution-filled fish.”
He was referring to the town they’d just visited, whose fishing hamlet were suffering from the industrial factory that had filled their waters with pollution, choking the fish, as well as the residents. Due to Katara’s meddling-- or rather her kind heart-- the Gaang had managed to scare off the polluters, and saved the hamlet.
“Aaaand, we’re back on schedule,” he smiled, pulling up a long scroll he’d kept by his side that had their itinerary down to the minute. Katara pulled a face and gently pushed it away.
“Great…” she chuckled awkwardly.
“Hey, I know it’s not exciting stuff, but this schedule keeps us on track to go and kick serious Fire Nation can,” he said.
“What would we do without you,” she muttered into her fish.
He rolled his eyes. He knew they knew the importance, even if it was boring, hard, or placed them on a time crunch. Speaking of which, he thought to himself, he checked his schedule,and gasped. This drew the attention of the others.
“What? What is it?” asked Toph.
“Oh no, this is bad!” said Sokka, quickly rising to his feet.
“What? What’s bad?” asked Aang.
“We’re five minuets behind schedule!”
Everyone looked back at him flatly.
“Hey, this is serious. You guys want to actually make it to the eclipse, right?”
“Sokka...I don’t know if five minuets makes that much--”
“No time to argue-- I didn’t pencil that in-- we gotta start loading everything back up on Appa, now,” and with that he began to kick dirt on the coals of the campfire.
“Hey!” said Aang, using his hand to shield his plate of tofu from the flying dirt.
It seemed he hadn’t heard him, as Sokka was already running toward Appa, ready to reload their things onto the bison, which they’d taken off simply to allow the creature to rest. Aang followed after him, grabbing the pack that Sokka carried before he’d toss it back on Appa.
“Hey-- um, Sokka? Don’t you think you’re taking this scheduling thing a little too far?”
“No way,” he said, shaking his head, “making sure we get to the rendezvous point is top priority. We’ve been delayed because of that academy, the dance party--”
“That you also danced at,” Aang reminded.
“...yes. And then Katara delayed us for three days,”
“Helping a village that was dying out that we saved,”
“So we’ve already taken up all the free time I planned-- and then some.”
“Sokka,” sighed Katara as she and Toph walked over. “Look, you’re great at keeping us on track, really. But I’m starting to think this scendual is a little...pointless?”
“Pointless?” he balked. “Hey, if it weren’t for the schedule, how would we know when a good time to collect resources, when we need to reach the next town, or how long it’s going to take us to get somewhere before dark?”
“Those parts are good and fine, but look at this,” she said, holding up the schedule. “You’ve even tried to schedule arguments and when to resolve them?”
“Hey, we’re a tight-knit team, but we get on each other’s bad side sometimes. The least I can do to help is make it time-efficient.”
“Oh, look, I have an appointment to make a joke with my airbending in half an hour,” blinked Aang, looking over the schedule.
“Am I on the schedule?” asked Toph.
“Yes,” sighed Sokka, “five o’clock, make burping jokes after the meal.”
“What time is it?” she demanded.
Sokka turned his gaze to the afternoon sky.
“Mmmmm...Five.”
Taking in a deep breath, Toph let loose a deep guttural belch that forced Katara to turn her head away and gag in response.
“That’s disgusting!” Katara exclaimed, waving away the stench.
“But punctual,” shrugged Sokka.
Katara sighed, rolling the scroll back up.
“You have to know that this is ridiculous, even for you.”
“We don’t have to stick so-so closely to it, just as close as we can make it,” he replied. “And I can always re-work it to make sure it all fits in.”
“Give me another burping appointment!” laughed Toph.
“I can pencil that in,” he nodded.
“Sokka,” Katara insisted. “Seriously, we’ve always been on time in the past, we’ll be on time again. We don’t need such a strict schedule.”
“Yeah,” sighed Aang, “I don’t know if I can do another two minuet bathroom-slash-snack break. It might make me lose my appetite completely.”
“Then it would just be a bathroom break.”
“Thinking about it now,” started Toph, thoughtfully, “I want to be able to make jokes on my own time. When you expect the punch line, it’s not as funny.”
“I...okay but that’s…” he looked around to his friend’s faces. “Alright, maybe I’ve been a bit too strict.”
“So we’re staying for the night?” asked Katara.
Seeing that they wouldn’t budge, he sighed and bowed his head.
“Fine, we can stay,” he grumbled.
“Alright! Meteor shower viewing!” smiled Aang, and began running up the hill to make sure it was the ample spot.
“I’m always down for more free time,” said Toph, heading off in some other direction.
“Thank you, Sokka,” smiled Katara.
“It’s fine,” he sighed, tossing their things off to the side.
“I know you’re worried,”
“Worried? This whole thing is my plan. If I weren’t there to help the others-- if I missed it and let dad and everyone else go on without me and we lost and they all got hurt or captured-- I’d never forgive myself…” he turned away, grabbing his arm.
She watched him a moment, seeming to comprehend his attitude and actions now. She placed a hand on his shoulder, gripping it firmly.
“None of us here will let that happen. We’re all ready and willing to fight and end this.”
He remained quiet, thoughtful.
She gave a playful scoff.
“You’re not alone in this, you know that, right?” she asked.
“Yeah...yeah. Sorry, It’s not that I don't trust anyone, I just…”
“Can’t turn off big brother mode?” she asked, folding her arms.
“What does that mean?”
“You can’t stop looking out for us.”
“Maybe,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck.
“Well try and turn it off for one night. Come look at the meteor shower with us and take it easy.”
“Well, I’ve got no choice now,” he shrugged.
She laughed and headed away toward the hill, and he followed after her.

--

It was mid-noon, and Zuko was in the dining hall, alone with his sister as lunch (breakfast for him) was set for them.
“Remind me why you’ve dragged me out of my room,” said Zuko, one hand clutching a cup of tea while the other held his hanged head that guarded from the sunlight.
“If I allow you to ferment any longer in your room, we’d have a side dish for a Prince,” said Azula, evenly, as she made herself a plate.

It had been several days since she’d barged into his room last. He’d hoped that after the last unpleasant conversation they’d had she wouldn’t be so inclined to bother him again. Unfortunately for him, it wasn’t unpleasant enough, for her at least.
The sun may not have been so high yet, but the heat and humidity was already unbearable.
“Has there been any word from Father?” he asked.
“You’re obsessed,” Azula muttered to herself, just loud enough for Zuko to hear.
“It’s important.”
“No, it’s not.”
“What would you know?” he demanded, but was careful to keep his temper from yelling. Yelling at Azula never ended well. Whatever he did to her, he knew she always paid back ten-fold. That just who she was.
“You’re right,” she sighed, “what would I know? After all, I’m not the one who spoke out of turn and got himself banished for three years,” she said, idly, as if it were a conversation on the weather. “So I suppose all I know is how to be at Father’s side and not the family embarrassment.”
She turned her severe golden eyes on him, knowing her words cut him to the quick, his temper silenced and replaced with a cold emptiness.
“Now quit. Pouting. And eat.” she demanded.
He eyed her, his quiet moment of defiance, before giving in and picking up his utensils.
“Mai and Ty Lee will be joining us soon,” she continued.
He didn’t respond, but the suspicion was palpable. Azula was not a family-oriented person, nor should she have any real interest in Zuko spending anytime with one of her best friends. Her reason for doing this was either that she was forced-- which was hard to believe given that no one can force Azula to do anything-- or that she was looking for something. For what, he could not fathom.
He ate, quietly, his mind turning over what scheme she was planning with this strange breakfast, when the servants stepped forward. They took away the empty plates, most of which had been dined on by Azula, and only picked at by Zuko. They then set down the familiar shapes of large, steamed bao.
Zuko stared at them, he could feel Azula’s eyes on him.
“What’s wrong?” he heard his sister ask.
He glanced at her, confused, and irritated.
“I heard this was something you shared with Mai,” she said, innocently enough. “Do you not have a taste for it now?”
“I’m already full,” he answered, curtly.
“Oh. What a shame. I was so hoping you’d like them…”
She reached out, ignoring the golden serving spoon that was next to it, and instead, grabbing a bao with her bare hand. She took it up to her mouth and gently tore into it. The gesture would have been benign to anyone else, but to Zuko, he couldn’t help but feel threatened in some way.
Well, at least they weren’t poisoned, he thought, and reached out to take one. He bit into the warm, comforting, spongy, texture, but as the flavors hit his tongue, he froze.He couldn't help but put his hand to his mouth as the sweet, and salty flavors played over his tastebuds, the pulled pork and chives creating a familiar medley he neve thought he’d taste again. It was exactly the same as the ones they served at the tea shop. It struck him cold.
“Good, right?” he heard his sister ask, but didn’t dare look at her.
“...yes…” he answered, fighting to swallow the bite as his stomach turned.
“It wasn’t easy to find, you know,” she continued. “The recipe, I mean,” she said, ripping into the spongy bread and allowing part of it to fall away. “First, we had to use the Dai Li and it’s records to get some clue just where exactly it was you and Uncle had been working-- such a tawdry little tea shop, really, I almost feel sorry that you had to work in that hovel. Next, we had someone go in and demand that recipe from the owner-- which wasn’t hard, after all, the man was practically an open book about anything we wanted to know…” she said, setting the bao down, as if suddenly disinterested in it. “And afterward, it was a matter of delivering it to the cooks and making sure they had enough time to allow the meat to stew…” she said, her eyes drawing slowly up from the plate and to him, her hands folded before her, her fingers laced.
He felt a sense of dread that threatened to turn his stomach and filled his veins with ice.
“What...do you want,” he said, his voice low and angry, but holding himself back.
“What do I want? Zu Zu, I want you to be comfortable here,” she said simply, with a single shrug of her shoulder. “I want you to step into the future with us, and not be so hung up in the past.”
“That’s a lie.”
“If you say so,” she sighed, “though it does break my heart to hear you say. As your sister I just want what’s best for you. And what’s best is not sulking in your room like some heart-broken dog.”
He stared at her, his eyes widening slightly, and doing his best to hold himself back from leaping across the table or running out of the room. He could feel the weight of the little black book in the fold of his robes, and felt himself starting to perspire.
She couldn’t know.
There was no way she could know.
He forced himself to think logically, and returned his gaze to the plate. That’s right, she couldn't possibly know, not the full picture, and not that he had a tether. It was possible she could have seen Sokka’s name before he could snatch the book from her, but then again, she might not have. If she did, he reasoned quietly, she’d be slightly more direct in her approach of letting him know she knew. Instead, she’d used the Dai Li to scrounge up info about his stay in the Earth Kingdom, and the shop owner did not know Sokka, nor had he really seen him while he managed the back of the shop. So these little baos and the dog comment he’d reacted to several days before had been a ploy, he thought with a small smirk, a ploy to unnerve him and force him to reveal more than she knew. She’d done it before, with the guards and his uncle. She must think him really stupid, he mused.
This was Azula guessing, grasping at straws, and using fear tactics. She had nothing but suspicion.
“You know,” he said, his tone suddenly taking on a smooth confidence that caused Azula’s eyebrow to quirk upward, “you’re right. I have been sulking,” he said, and lifted the bao. “I’m lucky to have such a generous sister who’d go to such lengths to make me comfortable after my exile,” he tore into the bao, staring at her. He made a noise, a praising one, to how delicious the little steamed bun was, despite wanting to throw up. “These really are good.” he said, after swallowing. “Let me know if you dig up any more food from my past,” he said, and rudely licked his fingers, an act that made her lip curl and she calmly averted her gaze.
Before anything more could be said, Mai and Ty Lee’s presence were announced. They gave each other one last glare, before they lifted themselves from the table and walked out to meet their guests.

--

“Hey!” called Aang.
Sokka turned back, turning his head to look past his shoulder and his new blade that was strapped to his back. A meteorite sword he’d only just received from a master swordsman. He was fresh out of training and feeling more confident. They were all walking about in a small town.
Katara and Toph turned back as well, and were greeted with the sight of Aang coming forward with several sticks of yakitori, and two skewers of tofu.
He could hear his sister off to his right laugh.
“What’s the occasion?”
“Sokka’s graduation,” smiled Aang, handing the food out to everyone, keeping the tofu for himself.
“Hey, this money’s suppose to be for supplies only,” objected Sokka, but without much passion as he immediately tore into the grilled chicken. Sesame seeds had been sprinkled over the shoyu glaze, and his stomach immediately felt gratitude for having something in it.
“I know, I know,” smiled Aang, happy to see Sokka already eating, “but we never really had a celebration for it, you know? The monks in my temple use to have a big celebration when one of the students finally graduated to get their tattoos. It was seen a moment of celebration, and, well,” he shrugged, “we didn’t get a moment to celebrate, and I know we’re on a strict schedule, so...congratulations, Sokka!” he said, and lifted the skewer. The others lifted their skewers, echoing Aang.
“Congratulations, Sokka,” smiled Katara.
“Yeah, way to go, ponytail.”
He looked to his friends with surprise, but then relented and laughed, lifting his skewer as well.
“Thanks guys. I just hope it’ll come in handy during the-- well, during the you know.”
“I’m sure it will,” smiled Katara.

After this moment of celebration, they continued walking through the town, collecting supplies and keeping an ear out for any rumors or news.
Eventually they finished and were heading back to where they had hid Appa and Momo. Aang and Toph lead the group, involved in some discussion about earthbending tournaments that kept them distracted. Sokka and his sister walked together quietly, his mind wandering, thinking about the Invasion, when his sister’s voice knocked him out of his thoughts.
“Hey, can I ask you something?”
He looked over to her, adjusting the large bag of rice on his shoulder as he gave her a nod.
“Sure, what’s up?”
“You’ve sent dad out to collect all the allies we made along the way, right?”
“Sure did. I already made sure to tell him how to contact those swamp people we met. I’m pretty sure they’ll come in handy as another element of surprise.”
“The firebenders will certainly be surprised. But, what about your contact?”
“Who?”
“The one you had in Ba Sing Se?”
“O-oh! My, er, contact? What about them?”
“Well, will they be with us? Will we finally meet this mystery person?”
“Oh...uhhh, no. I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“Well...ah… It’s complicated.”
“How complicated could it be? I mean, they’re okay, right?”
“You could say that.”
They went quiet, and he had hoped that his sister would drop it for the moment, but he felt a spark of irritation as she spoke up again.
“The last time you met up with them was when they freed Appa. Whatever happened to them?”
“I don’t know,” he lied, swiftly averting his gaze and to the ground. This pulled a disgruntled noise from her.
“I don’t understand why you’re making this into such a big secret…” she muttered.
He didn’t answer.
“Did something happen? Are they an enemy now? I mean, why won’t you tell us anything about--”
“Look, it’s not a big deal,” he said, waving her off. “Can we just drop it?”
“But if they’re in trouble, or if you’re in trouble--”
“What makes you think I’m in trouble?” he asked.
“Nothing-- well-- you’re just kinda quiet sometimes. Like, you just tune us out or--”
“So I can’t have a moment alone in my head?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“I can’t be expected to be the funny guy all the time.”
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
They’d stopped walking by this point, and the other two turned back.
“Look, it’s nothing,” he defended.
“If it’s nothing then you wouldn't be keeping this big secret about who this person is.”
“I don’t have to tell you everything--”
“When it comes to secret contacts I think we have a right to know,” she demanded.
“What’s going on?” asked Aang.
“Nothing!” both siblings snapped at the Avatar, who defensively smiled and held his hands up, showing that he did not mean to offend. Toph folded her arms, blowing out a puff of hair that disturbed her bangs slightly.
“Here we go…” muttered Toph.
“Sokka, I don’t ask you for anything, really,” said Katara. “Just the truth. I wanted you to have privacy-- but the whole time we were in the city you kept blowing us off and running to meet this person.”
“Why are we even talking about this now?”
“Because-- I wanted to talk about it before, but, after everything that happened-- look, you’re keeping something from us.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, am I the bad guy now? Me? The guy who's currently planning the Inva--”
“Shhh!” insisted Aang and Toph.
“I know it’s a secret!” he snapped back at them, to which only Aang stepped back with an apologetic laugh. “So, what, Katara? Is that it? I’m hiding some big-bad secret from you?”
“You’re hiding something alright, and you’re being a real jerk about it too,” she argued, folding her arms.
“Who I see and who I talk to is none of your business.”
“You’re not alone,” she demanded.
“Yeah-- I get it. You’ll be there for me if--”
“No. You don’t get it. We’re risking our lives here. We’re a team and we need to trust each other. Which means you can’t keep these kind of secrets from us.”
The siblings went quiet, with Katara crossing her arm, as if waiting for her obstinate brother to relent and tell her everything. He hiked the rice bag higher up on his shoulder, and started to walk again.
“Sokka!” she demanded, offended.

“What...are they talking about?” asked Aang to Toph.
“They’re arguing about Sokka’s contact in Ba Sing Se,” she answered.
Sokka gave her a look of warning that he realized in the next moment was lost on her.
“You knew about this too,” Katara remembered in that moment. “If he won’t tell us anything, maybe you will,” she said. Toph shrugged, as if bored with the conversation.
“Look, it’s really none of my business.”
“Isn’t it?” asked Katara. “It doesn’t bother you that he had you cover for him back at Lake Laogai?”
“Not really,” she shrugged.
“Why?”
“Because your brother had a crush and they broke up.”
Everyone, including Sokka, whipped their head around to look at Toph with unabashed shock.
“What?” gasped Aang, amazed.
“Toph!” hissed Sokka.
“You had a what?” asked Katara, looking to Sokka.
“That’s why he doesn’t wanna talk about it,” she shrugged.
“Oh, but he told you?” Katara demanded.
“Uhhh, yeah. Well, no, I figured it out because, you know, it’s impossible to lie to me,” she said with a smirk.
“Well...well that’s it?” she asked, stunned, “You both saved Appa and then he broke up with you?”
“Pretty much,” he bluffed, resisting the urge to give a side-long glance to Toph. The earthbender said nothing to object.
“Oh...oh then…” Katara suddenly grew embarrassed, hiding her face from everyone looking at her. “Oh my gosh...I’m so sorry Sokka. I never meant to...to pry…”
“Can we drop it now, please?” he asked.
“Right, yeah, sorry,” nodded Katara. “Well...if it’s any consolation, he must be a pretty big jerk to break up with you like that.”
“I don’t wanna talk about it,” he muttered, being the first to turn and continue on to camp. He took the lead, despite having the heaviest load to carry. Aang and Toph hung back with a rather embarrassed Katara, leaving Sokka to stare ahead.

--

The mood had soured entirely for the rest of the day. The team was cautiously quiet, and their caution grated on his nerves. While not in the mood to crack jokes, he did the next best thing, which was to remove himself from them so that the mood might improve.

He merely sat on the other side of Appa, distracting himself by sharpening his meteorite sword.

“Hey.”
He hadn’t heard his sister until she’d spoken up, but didn’t bother to look at her.
“Here to yell at me some more,” he muttered.
“...no…” she said, her voice lowered, her gaze cast down. “I...I wanted to say that I was sorry.”
“It’s no big deal,” he returned.
There was a moment of silence, before Katara took another step toward him.
“I know that...it’s a painful subject,” she started. “And...and I guess I just wanted to know...why you don’t want any help with this?”
Because if you knew, he thought bitterly, you’d probably waterbend me into the next century. He sighed and took up the small rag he used to clean off his sword with, quickly wiping it off before sheathing it and putting it aside.
“Look, Katara, I know you want to help. I’m sorry I worried you, but talking about it...it’s too much. I made a mistake, I got lost in the city with some guy, which is humiliating enough to admit, and trust me when I say I won’t ever make that mistake again.”
“This person...they really hurt you.”
“Yeah,” he said, gripping the sheathed sword, his gaze pointed at the ground. “They did.”
He listened as she edged closer, and sat next to him. She leaned against Appa and looked to the ground.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “And, I’m sorry I pushed it.”
Silence.
“You know...I guess...I just get worried. Aside from dad and Gra-Gran, you’re...the only family left. You’re the only family I have out here. It worries me when you won’t talk to me. If something was bothering me, you’d want to know, wouldn’t you?”
He frowned as he considered her words, realizing she was right.
“And if someone broke my heart, well…”
“I’d beat them up,” he sighed with a nod. She laughed and he smiled. “It...it was stupid to hide it from you,” he sighed. “And, I’m sorry I did that.”
“We could have helped you through it.”
“It’s like you said, there was no time, especially after everything that happened, when Aang was hurt…” he winced at that and rubbed the back of his neck, allowing it to then tilt back and lean against Appa. He looked to the afternoon sky, white-orange clouds lazily drifted by, and he watched them as he spoke. “I guess...I just threw myself into everything else. The Invasion...training...I just never want to feel that dumb or helpless again.”
“Hey, you’re not dumb, and you’re definitely not helpless,” she said, gently throwing an elbow into his bicep. He clicked his tongue at her smiling. “You just need to let us in sometimes.”
He nodded, quietly.
“So...do you think...maybe...you can at least tell me how you are?”
He looked over to her, his mind turning over his emotions for a moment, before quietly coming to the conclusion:
“I’m...I’m not great,” he admitted with a chuckle, but it bordered on sad.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Yeah...it’s fine.”
“It’s not.”
She was right.
“Yeah...no, it’s not,” he gave a short laugh again, shaking his head. He sniffed, feeling his emotions threaten to spill out from his eyes. He turned away. “He was...umm...he was a jerk,” he laughed again, but hid the sadness that spilled down his cheek.
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah...me too.” he sniffed again. “I...I really...I liked him,” he laughed again, but this time it was hard to differentiate from a sob. He wiped at his eyes, feeling his sister’s hand on his shoulder. He drew his legs up, hugging his knees to him, and left her put her arms around him.
“Why’d he leave you? Did he say?”
“No,” he said. “That's...that’s kinda the worst part. He just left. No explanation. Just...just dropped me.”
“Well he’s a jerk!” she said. He laughed. “Who does that? Hey, if you ever see him again, point him out to me. I’ll teach him a thing or two. How dare he dump my brother!”
He laughed again, shaking his head.
“Katara, if I did that, I don’t think there’d be anything left of him.”
“Forcing them to live with their mistakes is the greatest revenge anyone could ever have,” she smiled.
“You scare me sometimes,” he smiled.
“Why? You’re not the one I’m going to freeze into a block of ice and push out to sea.”
He laughed again, and when she hugged him he hugged her back.
“We’ve got your back,” she said, softly.
“I know, I just...felt like such an idiot for the longest time...and since I’m leading the Invasion...”
“You didn't want to admit you were doubting yourself.”
“I can finish my own sentences,” he muttered, drawing a chuckle from her as she pulled away.
“Thank you, Sokka. I’m really glad you decided to talk to me. Can you promise to talk to me about this if it comes up again?” she asked. He opened his mouth to answer, but a flash of some dreadful vision crossed his mind. He saw himself in the Fire Nation robes, his own eyes coldly staring back at him, and he hesitated.
“What is it?” she asked, confused by the sudden look of alarm that had come over him.
“Erm...sorry,” he said, “I thought I saw a bee on your shoulder,”
She blinked at him.
“What were we talking about?”
“Promise to talk to me?”
“Yeah-- of course,” he nodded.
The confidence she’d seemed to hold before had vanished, but seeing as how he’d given her the answer she wanted, she merely nodded and began to stand.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” she said, offering a hand, “let’s join the others.”
“Yeah,” he said, and grabbed her hand, pushing the image out of his mind as he followed her.

--

The vision scared him. He knew this, despite also knowing that he had free will that would make sure something like that dreaded future never came to pass. Yet, it still unnerved him. The thought followed him to his dreams, wherein he found himself in the arctic wasteland that often served as a meeting ground for him and Iwei. Only, the arctic was still cracked and damaged, remnants of smoke and fog swirled together on the ground. The lights in the sky were gone, along with all the stars, and most disturbingly, the moon.
Something large rumbled beneath his feet, and it caused him to fight to regain his balance. Then, from one of the large icy casims, there emerged the body of the blue dragon, rearing up only to dive back down and toward Sokka.
He could only watch, wide-eyed as the large head came careening down toward him, it’s jaws open and ready to sink into him.
The moon appeared in the sky then, called by a distant howl. It’s light shown down on Sokka, and acted like a barrier. The dragon had nearly clamped it’s jaws around him, but instead, was stopped by the very light of the moon.
It drew back, shaking its head from pain, or humiliation, or some mixture of both. It’s deep growl emanated from the creature’s throat. It’s eyes stared intently down at him.
“Oh...my future lord…” the creature breathed out, “Tis only you…” It shivered, as if regaining control of itself, shaking it’s mane. “My deepest apologies, future sire…”
“Don’t call me that,” he demanded. “Where’s Iwei?”
“Iwei? That miserable mutt has turned tail and run off.”
“That’s not true.”
“Oh...you’re right, my apologies. Coming to my senses now, I realize that it was you that pushed the sorry dog away and ran straight to us,” it quietly hissed the last part.
Sokka eyed the wily serpent as it continued to regain a more civilized tone.
“So...what? They’re just not here?”
“Such was your decision.”
“No, I didn’t decide--”
“Oh no? So it was some other frightened little human that pushed away the light-footed traveler and ran from their light?”
“That wasn’t-- I was just-- you lied! You said you were going to tell me my destiny.”
“No lies here. I told you. It’s not my fault if you don't like it.”
“You expect me to believe that? That I would ever marry a jerk like him?”
“I don’t see why you’re mad at me, my future lord. I gave you what you wished for, and, in exchange, you decided that we, the fates within the bloodline, should be your guides.”
“I never agreed--”
“You think such things are free?” it growled, pressing its face just up against the light, but not quite touching it. The dragon’s body coiled up behind it, it’s maw open with black smoke rolling out from between its sharp teeth. “You run around, demanding your destiny, and whine when it’s not what you wish. What, do you think you can write your path yourself? You? A small, insignificant--”
“Even if I can’t I’d never let something like you guide me!”
“But you already have,” it laughed, sending waves of black smoke to watsh over the moonlit barrier. “You pushed your tether to us.”
Sokka stared back, stunned.
“No I...he made his choice. I didn’t--”
It cackled, its head retreating into the smoke and disappearing. He could see through the plumes of swirling darkness and smoke fire lighting up all around him, like small storms. The moonlight flickered, and Sokka turned his head up, worried.
“You pushed him,” insisted the blue dragon, “as Iwei and their silence pushed you to us. He wanted his destiny, his real destiny. And it’s your fault, really. All these questions of “what do you want” really put his priorities into perspective.”
“Stop it.”
“You asked. It isn’t our fault if you didn’t listen.”
His eyes widened as he realized they were right. He hadn’t listened when Zuko had told him.
“What were you trying to accomplish, little human? Little non-bender. To rewrite destiny?”
He clutched the space above his chest, as if clutching his tether.
“You ignored him, you lied to him!”
“Stop it!”
“It is too late!” it roared out. “It cannot be stopped.”
Within the fire storm, the raging orange light, he could see the silhouette of a figure standing not too far off. He stared at the familiar frame as it steadily walked towards him.
“But,” started the voice, “it doesn’t have to be unpleasant…” mused the blue dragon.
Sokka backed up half a step, cautious but curiosity kept his gaze locked on their movement. The smoke cleared and there stood the prince.
“Sokka,” Zuko called, eyeing him with a look Sokka had never seen on his face. Interest, with a smile that bordered on sinister, his leveled gaze looking the other over. He was dressed as a prince, his hair pulled up and back, the golden flame ornament tucked into his top knot and giving a dangerous gleam in the moonlight.
“You’re not him,” said Sokka, shaking his head. “Come on, I’m not stupid!” he turned, calling into the smoke. “You can’t use cheap tricks to fool me!”
“Sokka…” Zuko called, his hand gliding along the moonlit barrier as he circled him. “It is me. What can I do to convince you?”
“Oh trust me, if it was you, I’d be on the other side of that barrier, my fist in your face.”
Zuko cackled, making Sokka burn with anger at the sound.
“Can you fight me?” Zuko asked, tilting his head in such a way that he seemed almost unhinged “I’d be interested to see that.”
“We’ve fought before.”
“And you’ve lost every time,” he said, shaking his head. “You know, I always wondered what it was that made you believe in me? Always made you hold back, always let me get away? It’s sweet.”
“Knock it off!”
“You must really love me.”
“I hate you!”
“Are you sure about that?” he asked, still walking, circling him, his golden eyes locked onto Sokka’s until he was standing in front of him, where Sokka was closest to the barrier. “When I left did you cry? Did you weep your eyes out? Was your heart broken? Do your friends know it’s your fault the Avatar was hurt--”
Forgetting himself, and without hesitation, Sokka cried out and ran at him. He swung, his fist caught, but he swung with his other fist, which was also caught in the image’s iron-clad grasp. He stared fiercely at Zuko as he tried to push him back, but the other pushed him up, and against the barrier that he only just then realized he was on the other side of.
“Oh Sokka…” breathed Zuko, “when are you going to realize, you can’t fight destiny?”
“I will never accept this destiny,” he said, staring intensely up at him.
Zuko leaned in, whispering into Sokka’s ear,
“Then I will drag you,” said his voice, with the blue dragon’s layered on top, “Kicking...and...screaming.”
Smoke washed over Sokka, and suddenly he felt as though he were falling.

--

Sokka awoke with a start, turning to clutch his sword and turned back with it unsheathed, swiping at the air.
The others were still asleep. The surrounding area was dark.
He was awake, and alone.
He sighed, and sheathed the sword, quietly. He set it aside, and lay back, staring up at the sky, and the moon that hung just somewhere above the tree tops and out of sight.
He’d foolishly run out of the moon light again. He’d allowed himself to be baited into losing his temper.
He pressed his palm into his eyes, inwardly cursing his foolishness.
In the darkness, he could see Zuko there.
He seethed.
He grieved.
He let out an irritated grunt and rolled over, shutting his eyes and resolving to sleep.

--

Zuko awoke, shivering as if from fever. He fought to steady his breathing and looked around the dark room. He ran a hand through his sweat drenched hair, trying to discern what had disturbed him into waking up. His head felt heavy, he was exhausted, but filled with some strange anxiety that urged him to stay awake. He got up and went to the washroom, taking up a small vase he filled with bason and washed his face quickly.
As he whipped his face, he dragged the towel down his face and looked into the mirror. His reflection stared back at him in the darkness. He remembered when he’d had a terrible fever, back in the Earth Kingdom, remembered that one of the strange dreams he’d had back then. In his dream, he’d washed his face, removing the sweat that made his skin itch, only to pull the towel away to reveal the image of himself as the Avatar.
It was a fever dream. Meaningless.
It disturbed him, and though he couldn’t place why, he knew he didn’t want to think too hard about it. He turned his thoughts instead to what he’d been dreaming. He clutched the side of the bason, trying to remember. Images of smoke came to mind, the smallest trace of someone familiar. He clutched his head trying to remember something, anything.
He thought he could remember the moon.
He left the bathrooms dn went to his window, looking out and up. The waxing moonlight shone on the earth, but he could not see the heavenly body from where he stood. The moonlight, something about it was familiar. He reached out, allowing the light to play across his skin, studying it. He did remember something, he realized. He remembered an arctic waste. He remembered a Southern Water Tribe village, desolate and abandoned. He pulled his hand back from the moonlight, as if it were a cat about to swipe at him.
He had the strangest feeling he’d seen Iwei, but wouldn't he remember if he had?
He allowed his hand to glide back into the pale light, as if it were that which helped him to remember.
Strangely, memories were drawn back to him. Memories of Iwei, running along the surface of an arctic ocean. He remembered black snow. He remembered a terrible pain around his ankle,a dn the sensation of water filling his lungs.
He pondered, the quiet suddenly stifling.
Was Iwei trying to contact him?
Was Sokka in danger?
Was he in danger?
He drew his hand away, allowing it to rest on his chest as he turned these thoughts over. He wondered if any of this was real, or if it simply was his nerves. He couldn’t distinguish between a real threat and a silly night mare, and it irritated him, made him feel like a child. He scoffed and turned back to the bed. Whatever that spirit wanted from him it wouldn’t get, he thought, crawling under the sheets and laying down.
Still, he felt himself somehow vulnerable, like he were being watched, and not by Iwei. He shuddered and closed his eyes, resolving to sleep.

Chapter Text

The beach.

Nothing ever good happened at the beach, Zuko thought with disdain, casting a dismal gaze to the sunny scene. 

It was a forced vacation, one he’d take with his sister, as well as Ty Lee, and his girlfriend, Mai. He hadn’t been able to refuse either. It was a mandatory vacation, an excuse to force the children out of the palace while important war meetings took place.

Zuko burned with irritation and insult; he was being sent away, again, as if he were a dirty child being shooed from polite company. He was old enough to join the war meetings, old enough to be a part of the planning-- certainly. He thought he’d shown his worth already. Had being exiled all those years and surviving meant nothing? Had he not proved his loyalty in helping to bring down Ba Sing Se? His eyes narrowed at the horizon. The years outside of the palace had taught him much, from commanding his own ship, to learning how to survive in extreme circumstances. He knew so much more now, things that he was sure he could bring to the meetings, the discussions. His uncle would have never treated him this way-- he halted that train of thought the moment it popped up. 

He looked back out to the beach from beneath the shade of an umbrella, his girlfriend at his side. They’d said little to nothing since the whole trip began. He could sense her distaste for the beach as well, but hadn’t bothered to ask why. He was relieved she’d done him the same courtesy. Yet, he recalled with some displeasure, they didn’t really talk much anyway. When they did, it was about very little. 

He’d tried to strike up a conversation about poetry once, but there was very little either had said. He’d asked if she liked it, and she’d responded with “some”. He insisted to ask what kind, and she’d named a few titles. Well that was good, it was progress. Zuko had admitted he had not heard of them, instead, offering the titles he knew. She’d heard of one of those titles. He’d offered that they read each other's favorites, and she’d told him it sounded like homework. The conversation had died there. He’d had an idea then, an idea that made him inwardly cringe now on the other side of it. He’d cleared his throat, deciding to try spouting some poetry for her himself.

“When I look at you,” Zuko had started, gently counting on his fingers, “I see the sun and the moon, I see the world...erm…” he had hesitated. Mai had quirked an eyebrow waiting for him to finish. “I...see...uhh…”

“Maybe you should just stick to reading,” she had said and turned away. “I’m not a fan of haikus anyway.”

And that had been the entire conversation.

He pulled out of the memory, looking out to all the happy people who played about in the sand or in the sea. Children built sand castles. Girls and boys their age were queuing up to play against each other in volleyball, or were off sunbathing and hanging out together. Many happy sounds surrounded him, and he wished they would all cease, longing for quiet.

“Cut it out!” laughed a voice just above the other sounds.

His eyes were drawn to two boys in the shallows of the water. They were wrestling, it seemed, their hands clasped in opposition. Trying to push the other over.

“Make me!” laughed the other one. The taller of the two, with lose black hair, had tripped up his friend, and pushed him back into the water. The other boy recovered quickly, sputtering out water and splashing his friend.

“Cheating!” he called.

“Cheating!” yelled Sokka with a smile.

His heart gave a painful pull and he turned his gaze away working on blocking their sounds. He was happy, he reminded himself. He was happier now, and he had a girlfriend he should be concentrating on. He needed to be a good boyfriend.

What did couples do on the beach? 

He turned his gaze to the sand, where a rather large conch shell sat. It was a sandy-white color, with tan stripes across it. He picked it up. 

“Here,” he said, offering it up to Mai, “this is for you,”

She looked at it, tilting slightly away from his offering.

“...Why would I want that?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at it.

“I saw it, and I thought it was pretty. Don’t girls like stuff like this?”

“Maybe stupid girls,” she scoffed, turning her head away.

“Forget it,” he muttered and tossed it away.

He watched it fall and noticed that the shell had landed next to one of the boys that had been playing about in the water earlier. One of them turned back, noticing that something had landed next to them, and picked up the shell. They quickly offered it to their friend. The other had taken it with a smile, and they’d walked away.

Zuko blinked, stunned, before turning away with an aggravated breath. He stood, ducking out from under the umbrella’s shade.

“Where are you going?” asked Mai.

“I need air.”

“We’re literally outside.”

He didn’t answer.

Alright, maybe junk that washed up from the sea wasn’t exactly Mai’s type of gift. If nothing else, he remembered food was always a good way to cheer someone up. He returned to her not long after. In his hands were two icecream cones. He took in a breath as he returned to the umbrella, ducking under and catching her gaze. She eyed the icecream with no expression. He cleared his throat as he sat back down and decided he’d have to be the first to speak.

“I thought since it’s so hot...here,” he said, and offered it up. He was clumsy though. Perhaps it was the nerves of trying to get this whole relationship thing right, but the scoop had fallen out of it’s cone and plopped onto her red skirt. He paused a moment, the familiar bite of disappointment was almost comical at this point.

“...thanks. This is really refreshing” she said.

Dejected, he promptly left to find something to clean the stain off her skirt.

This was going horribly, and not for any part on her end. He knew she could sense that, despite his best efforts, he was missing the mark. 

She could be making this easier too, he thought bitterly, but speaking to her was like addressing a brick wall.

He’d only just returned when he heard his sister ordering them around. 

“Hey beach bums, we’re playing next. Ty Lee! Get over here!”

Even on vacation, Azula’s need to be incharge didn’t take a break. Her gaze was trained at the volleyball set up, and he could tell by her stare that she was craving competition of any sort.

What point was there in arguing with her? None when conquest was on her mind.

“I hate volleyball,” he could just hear Mai mutter as she brushed herself off.

He made some noise in agreement and followed.

So he joined in the group huddle with his sister and her friends. Azula treated the game like any other mission, where only victory was expected. As she ruthlessly pointed out the flaws of the opposing team she’d been observing, he supposed he was glad for the distraction. Acting casual was incredibly more difficult than everyone around him made it seem. They were dismissed, and the game began.

With the elite precision of four teenages who’d spent most of thier life fighting for their lives and honor, they defeated the other team. Azula had taken it to eleven, as she was prone to do, and on the very last volley, spiked it with her foot, unintentionally setting the net on fire. 

“Yes!” Azula exclaimed, “We defeated you, for all time! You will never rise from the ashes of your shame and humiliation!” She stood there, breathing for a moment, the rush of victory surging through her. After a moment she composed herself, turning back to them. “Well that was fun.”

Apparently she had no idea what casual was either, Zuko couldn’t help but think with some embarrassment.

Their game had caught the attention of two boys whose gaze were locked on to Ty Lee. They approached her, and Zuko prepared to tune out the entire conversation, hopping to return to the shade of the umbrella. Since their arrival to the beach, Ty Lee had been garnering the attention of any man within range, and doing what she could to make use of them. The display was tiresome, especially coupled with her false display of innocence and-- he stopped to let out a frustrated breath. Why was he ruthlessly picking on his sister’s friend, he wondered, miserably.

The boys approached them, and Zuko immediately caught on to their swagger and the way they held their head high. There was no mistake, these boys thought they were hot--

“I’m having a party tonight,” said one of the guys. He was toned, possibly Zuko’s age, and stood taller than the Prince. His hair pulled up and back, revealing his handsome, unmarred face. He was directly speaking to Ty Lee with confidence, no stutter or sign of hesitation. Why did everyone else seem able to pull “casual” off so well, he wondered. “You should come by”

“Sure, I love parties,” she shrugged, equally as confident.

“Your friend can come too,” said the other boy, his hair loose but some of it was dragged into the traditional bun. They held a status of some kind, Zuko thought, no wonder they-- hold on, he thought, by her friend did they mean Mai? 

Mai had turned when she’d been acknowledged. What did she think of them, he wondered. Did she find either of them attractive?

“Uh, what about me and my brother?” Azula asked at once, never one to be left out of anything. “Aren’t you going to invite us?”

The two boys looked to each other, looking down at his sister like she were just...someone, and not The Princess of the Fire Nation . She tilted her head to the side with interest.

“You don’t know who we are, do you?”

“Don’t you know who we are?” asked the first one, “We’re Chan and Ruon-Jian.”

Zuko let out a quiet frustrated breath; of course, they were admiral brats . Spoiled rich kids who benefitted off the war almost more than their parents did. They’d made a pass on his girl, and now were looking down on him. Chan had chanced a glance at Zuko, and by the wince on his face it seemed obvious he was reacting to the scar. Zuko felt his hands clutch into fists and he stormed over, but was stopped by his sister’s hand being thrown out in front of him.

“...but, fine,” said Chan, obviously not in the mood for a fight, “you’re invited too. Just so you know though, some of the most important teenagers in the Fire Nation are gonna be at this party so...try to act normal.”

“We’ll do our best,” she smiled.

--

“Why didn’t you tell those jerks who we were?” asked Zuko.

It was evening now, and they were sitting down to dinner before they’d go to the party. The elderly twins, Lo and Li, their current guardians and supervisors for their excursion, were seated at either end of the table. The old women provided food, housing, and direction and distraction, should the children have use of it. They were constant perfect reflections of each other. They even went so far as to finish each other's sentences. It unnerved him.

“I guess I was...intrigued,” Azula answered from across the table. “I’m so used to people worshiping us.”

“They should,” Ty Lee pipped in, her peppy tone grating on Zuko’s nerves.

“I know, and I love it,” nodded Azula. “But for once, I just wanted to see how people would treat us if they didn’t know who we were.”

Zuko put his chopsticks down, the richness of the shrimp was too much for his stomach again. That, as well as the memories of having traveled all across the Earth Kingdom came to mind and depleted his appetite. 

He knew exactly how people treated him without knowing his background. His sister’s intrigue on the matter only showed how little she knew. He tried not to think of the war councils that were going on, about how much time he’d wasted here trying to act like a normal teenager when he just wasn’t. He tried to recall the last time he felt normal, and then, as the memories of the Tea Shop all came crashing back to him, he quickly picked up his chopsticks and stuffed his face with another shrimp. The taste of chilli and vinegar distracted him from the past.

“Like waves washing away the footprints in the sand, Ember Island gives everyone a clean slate,” said one of the twins, they were too difficult to tell apart. The other spoke then,

“Ember Island reveals the true you,” said the other.

Zuko accidentally bit his tongue, choking mid swallow and forcing him to cough. He dropped his utensils, which clattered to the floor in a sweet and sour mess.

“Ew,” said Mai, leaning away from him.

“You alright?” asked Ty Lee.

“I’m fine,” he muttered between coughing. He hurried away, hearing his sister mutter some insult as he left into the bathroom.

Nearly choking and the sting of the bite made him tear up slightly, and the chili pepper wasn't doing much to help either. He grabbed a small pitcher of water on his way to the restroom. He took a drink of water and swished it in his mouth, spitting it out, along with a bit of blood. He washed his face in the next moment with the rest of the clean water, trying to get the twin’s words out of his mind. 

Revealed the true self. 

Offers a clean slate.

What a joke, he thought bitterly.

He lifted his head, and for a moment paused. He swore he could hear something, like the slithering of scales. The sound had followed him here. He gritted his teeth. What was it, he wondered, looking around the room. What was he hearing, and why did it terrify him? When he turned back, he yelped. He could have sworn for just a moment, that he saw a gleaming yellow eye behind him, surrounded by blue scales, adn a flash of very big teeth. But the image was gone in the next moment, and he turned looking wildly about the bathroom.

He was alone.

He was fine, he insisted, washing his face one more time. He was stressed, maybe, and he didn't sleep or eat well these days, but he was fine.

Still, if this was a vacation, perhaps he’d actually take the time to rest. 

He finished up in the restroom and headed back out into the main living space. The others were on their way to change, but he leaned against the doorway to his own private room.

“I’m not going,” he announced.

“Aww, shy?” Azula teased. He shot a glare at her, and she rolled her eyes up to the ceiling. “If it’s because of your scar, may I suggest a head wrap? Maybe an eye patch? Better yet, why not just keep your head down and your trap shut.”

“Is a party thrown by admiral brats really so interesting that you’d force me to go with you?”

“If I find it interesting, then it is. Get dressed,” she snapped.

He knew if he didn’t there might be some petty revenge paid back on him later. Feeling much like a whipped dog, he turned and headed into the room to change.

When they’d arrived at the house party, sun was only just starting to set. Azula knocked on the door, and Zuko was already caught up in the tedium of the whole affair. He looked away as Chan answered the door, barely registering the conversation his sister was having with their host. His gaze was pointed to the horizon, watching the gold light dance along the blue waters.  

Mai gently nudged him, and he turned his attention back as he followed the others in. He let out a long, tiered, sigh.

They entered the well furnished house, with lacquered wood paneling, rugs obviously traded from conquered Earth Kingdom settlements, and gaudy gold statues coupled with large painted vases.

The other boy, Ruon-Jian was his name, sat next to a mirror, fixing his hair, then fixing his gaze on the girls as they passed him. His gaze seemed to linger especially on Mai.

“Hey, first ones here, huh” he greeted, his tone somewhat mocking.

“He thinks he’s so great,” Zuko muttered just loud enough so Mai could hear him. She said nothing in response. The silence was beginning to wear on him. “Well, what do you think of him?” he asked. 

“I don’t have any opinion about him,” she shot back, her tone still as flat and listless as anything, as if speaking to him were a chore. “I hardly know him.”

“You like him, don’t you?” he pressed, to which she only groaned.

He eyed the boy with a glare of contempt and warning, should he try anything. The other only winked back at him, a challenging action that made Zuko’s temper flare, but he held back. The threat of what should happen if he ruined Azula’s chance at her first “normal-teenage-party” held him at bay, and he merely followed behind his girlfriend.

The party guests trickled in as it grew darker. Food arrived, specifically catered for the occasion, but as usual, Zuko had no appetite. He sat in the corner on a bench with Mai as more people filed in. Music, food, warm lighting, and plenty of friendly looking people to speak to, this was his current nightmare.

“I’m bored,” he heard his girlfriend say for the first time in maybe twenty minutes.

“I know,” he replied, his tone just as flat.

“I’m hungry,” she continued.

Oh now she was hungry, he thought, remembering the embarrassing ice cream incident earlier.

“So what?” he asked.

“So find me some food.”

“Sure.” he muttered, and drew his arm away. Happy to, he thought sarcastically.

He went to the table where a great many dishes were laid out. Having no appetite himself, he stood and stared at the foods with disgust. He quietly threw his feelings to the back of his mind as he drew up a pair of chopsticks, a plate, and began to dish up some meal

. He went for the smaller steamed dumplings at first, piling on four, before he turned his attention to a small jellied red bean cake. They were cut into small rectangles, no bigger than his pinky, a perfect amount for sweet flavor to pick at inbetween the savory selections. He took that up and onto the plate, his eyes next scanning the grilled fish. He was quick to take up much of the meat, even going so far as to place the garnish of lemon on top. Ah, then there was the seaweed salad. Something to round out the dish, make it more balanced. Satisfied with his selection, and even finding he was starting to grow a bit peckish as well he turned to hand it back over to--

He stopped, a thought occurring to him. Mai hated the texture of seaweed salad.

Right, he scolded himself, he should have remembered that from the few dinners they’d shared. And come to think of it, the portions of steamed dumplings were a bit more than she normally ate. He groaned in irritation. Just who was he making this platter for?

He corrected his errors, substituting the seaweed salad for cucumber salad, and placed two of the dumplings back. Finally, he thought to himself, suddenly fed up with this task. He turned and was heading back to where she was sitting. He walked, and for a moment, he amused himself by holding the plate one hand, like it were a tray. Perhaps he’d make her feel special, like he were serving her. He wondered if he’d ever see her smile.

Before he could reach her, one of the party guests guffawed loudly and had stepped blindly back and into him, knocking the dish out of his hand and sending the food to go toppeling to the ground. His temper flared immediately and he turned on the guest.

“Hey! Watch where you’re--!” his voice caught in his throat as he stared back at Sokka.

But no...no this wasn’t him, though the boy looked very much like him at first glance. His eyes weren’t blue, but his skin was dark, his deep brown hair pulled back to reveal a similar face shape. But it was the small details, the way his jaw was set, the ear shape, the height of their cheek bones, that revealed they were a complete stranger to him.

“Y-you okay?” asked the party-goer.

He seethed at his own moment of weakness, replacing his stunned look with an intimidating glare of rage.

“As if you could hurt me. Look what you’ve done! That food was for my cranky girlfriend,” he snapped at him, pointing to Mai. The other retreated into themselves from the shouting, but followed the gesture, and suddenly seemed a little less intimidated. Confused, Zuko turned to see Mai, leaning casually back on the bench and chatting up Ruon-Jian. The boy stood over her with a hand on the wall, the other fist confidently placed on his hip. Even from this distance, Zuko could see the smallest trace of a smile on her lips. 

“You sure that’s your girlfriend?” the other boy teased. 

This spurred Zuko into running full force at the pair. Without a moment’s hesitation he was on Ruon-Jian, grabbing him firmly by the shoulder of his short sleeve robe and turning so that Ruon-Jian was forced to step away to catch himself from falling.

“What are you doing?” the boy demanded, catching himself and fixing his hair in the next moment.

“Stop talking to my girlfriend!” he shouted, catching the attention of almost everyone in the room.

“Relax,” the other said, “it’s just a party,” he said, advancing on him. Zuko’s hand shot out, and with a movement of his wrist and the force of his bending minus the flame, he pushed the boy and sent him careening all the way to the back wall of the house. The only thing to cushion his fall was a vase that shattered upon impact. This drew the attention of the entire room.

Zuko stared at the result of his action, thoroughly shocked. He’d moved without meaning to-- instinct had kicked in-- he’d done it without any thought any--

His shoulder was grabbed, the shock of what just happened kept his instincts from attacking Mai as she stared back at him angrily.

“Zuko, what is wrong with you?” she demanded.

“What's wrong with me?” he snapped back, “what’s wrong with you? You seem so happy for me to be anywhere but by your side that you’d chat up other guys?”

“Your temper is out of control,” she said, jabbing a finger into his chest. “You blow up over every little thing. You’re so impatient, hot-headed, and angry.”

“Well at least I feel something,” he snapped back at her, “as opposed to you. You have no passion for anything, you don’t care about anything-- it’s like I’m not even here!”

“ Are you?” she demanded.

He stared back at her. She turned away, crossing her arms.

“It’s over, Zuko,” she said at last. “We’re done.”

He stared at her, and he was sure, certain that in this moment, he was supposed to feel something. Perhaps it was the shock.

“Ahh!” someone exclaimed. “Who broke my Nana’s vase?”

He didn't have to look to know Chan was storming over to confront him.

“That’s it,” Chen said to him, “you’re out of here!”

“I was just leaving,” Zuko snapped back in Chan’s face, fighting to keep himself from throwing the brat across the room with his friend. He owed Mai that much, at least. He tore his angry gaze away and walked out. He could just hear Ruon-Jian mocking him as he walked away,

“Have fun by yourself, loser-boy!”

Zuko slammed the door behind him, shutting out the warm lighting and was immersed in the darkness of the night.

He walked along the beach. It was empty. Quiet. He drank in the peace and quiet, feeling strangely detached after Mai’s words. As the wind whipped by, the smell of salty sea air flowing on the breeze, he felt himself just slightly more relaxed. Still, memories of what had just transpired left him feeling humiliated, and confused. He’d lost his temper, in a big way. And strangely, it wasn’t Mai, who he was embarrassed for, but Sokka. Though, he thought, he had no idea why that would be, other than he’d worked so hard to make up for it back in Ba Sing--

He held his head and groaned in aggravation.

“Stop. Thinking. About him…” he muttered a desperate, angry plea to his brain.

He tore his gaze up and away from the ground, looking out to the ocean, as if he didn’t care, as if it didn’t bring with it it’s own memories.

He couldn't stop himself from walking toward the water, allowing the waves to lap gently up to his ankles and retreat gracefully.

Mai’s question played in his mind, asking if he really was “here”, and he realized that he in fact was not. The answer tore at him in an instant, and he angrily clenched his fist above his chest. What was he doing, he scolded himself angrily, what was he thinking? Why did his mind so readily turn back to him? He angrily kicked at the water and turned his back on the horizon. He walked away from the beach.

He’d arrived in front of the royal family’s old summer home. The house had been empty for years, ever since his mother’s banishment. It was locked. 

Not a problem.

He kicked the doors open, breaking the wooden beam that locked them in place from the back, and forced his way into the dusty, empty halls. Everywhere he glanced, another memory played. He wasn’t here, he scoffed bitterly, remembering Mai’s words; he was too busy lost in dreams and memories half the time.

A family portrait sat on the back wall, facing him. It had been commissioned when he and Azula were still young. He must have been ten at the time. He looked to the smiling boy in the painting, his father’s hand proudly on his back. Zuko seethed at the sight of that child. He turned his gaze downward to the display table. A few worthless family trinkets sat there, covered in dust and utterly abandoned. Resting front and center was a little hand print set in stone. His mother had pressed his hand in the cement disk when he was a baby, a trinket she was no longer around to cherish. The memory of him left alone to collect dust in it’s empty imprint. He picked it up, putting his hand to it, comparing the size, retracing the memories that haunted this quiet empty space.

Who was the child that had pressed his hand into the wet cement, he wondered. Was any semblance of that happy boy still inside him, or was he entirely a stranger to himself?

Languid, even footsteps gave him reason to pause. He sharply turned his head to the sound, his heart thrumming painfully in his chest, setting his skin to prickle with alarm.

“Hello?” he called out.

Had someone been squatting in his old home? The thought drove the fear to ignite into anger, and he put the small hand print down and walked to where he heard the sound. 

He turned the corner to look down the long, darkened hallway. To the left were paper screen doors that would open to the small stone courtyard, but were currently latched shut. They showed no sign of forced entry, so whoever had entered did not do it from here. The light of the moon still shone through the opaque paper, allowing for the diffused light to illuminate the hallway. 

The sound of footsteps once more caught his attention and he looked down to the end of the hall, where he just happened to catch a glimpse of someone walking out of sight and to the left, further into the large home.

“Stop!” Zuko demanded angrily, and ran after them. He rounded the corner, the shape ducked away again, the tail of a red cape lined in gold fluttering behind them. This time, however, there was the sound of slithering to accompany it. No, he told himself, he was surely imagining the scaly sound. He’d imagined it before in times of distress, this time was no different. 

Whoever they were, they were headed toward the sleeping quarters.

“I said, stop!” he demanded, once more taking off after them. He hurried along the empty halls, listening for their quiet foot falls, before coming to his parents room. 

Ornate doors stood before him. This was a chamber he’d never entered in his life, the children had not been allowed in here.

One of the doors had been left ajar. He swallowed his fear and approached it, pushing the door just slightly more open. The room was so dark he could see no one and nothing beyond the shadows. He gently took the round ring handle and pushed it open further. What little light there was from the hall bleed into the room only a few inches, too weak to cast itself on anything.

As he peered in, he once more heard the slithering sound, this time, directly behind him, like a great beast moments from striking him. He froze, his blood turning cold as he waited for some terrible end.

Cool fingers slid gently against the skin of his face, and came to rest softly on his scar, just below the eye. He looked to the other hand which slid gently into view, the arm wrapping around his front and clasping the opposite shoulder. Their skin was dark, familiar.

“...Sokka?” he breathed in shock.

The hands retreated suddenly, like shadows from lantern light. Zuko whipped around, but what met his gaze stunned him into wide-eyed silence and awed shock. 

Standing before him, adorned in the royal Fire Nation silks and robes, stood his tether. Sokka’s gaze was half lidded, dim, bearing no warmth and all severity. 

Zuko took in the sight with breathless wonder and fear, a terrible chill running through him from the unfamiliar expression the other wore. Then at once, as fast as a lepordsnake’s strike, Sokka’s arms shot out and pushed Zuko into the room. Only, when the prince stepped back, there was no floor to catch him, and he plummeted into the darkness, watching the image of Sokka grow smaller and smaller as he cried out, reaching up for him.

Something shattered, and he blinked.

Zuko was standing in the entrance hall. The hand print cast had slipped from his grasp and plummeted to the floor, shattering upon impact.

He shook his head and looked around the dark space, alarmed and pulling himself out of his dazed state. He listened for something, foot steps, or anything that would prove that everything that had happened wasn’t all some strange dream he had while standing up.

“I thought I’d find you here,” said a voice. It shocked him and he turned back to her, wild-eyed. Azula stood in the doorway, putting a hand to her hip as she eyed him. “What are you doing in the dark?” 

He didn’t know. He looked down at the broken mould. 

“Hello?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

He wiped a hand down his face and fought to regain control of himself. With one last breath, he turned and asked,

“What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you. Come on, this place is depressing,” she said, and turned without another word.

“Hold on.”

“What?” she asked, bored.

“...nevermind.”

“What, Zuzu?” she asked, turning to look at him from the doorway. “Still afraid of the dark?” she teased, mirthless and impatient.

“Shut it,” he muttered, following behind her.

He left the house, and as he drew farther away, he could not help but feel a set of eyes on him. The image of Sokka in fine reds, golds, and blacks haunted him, but he held it in his heart, a strange desire burning in him. He quickly shut it down, taking in a deep breath of the night air.

His sister brought him to where the others sat on the beach waiting for them. He passed by Mai, who coldly turned away from him. He chewed the inside of his lip a moment, pushing down the shame of his earlier actions upon seeing her.

“Hey,” he greeted, deciding to give her space.

“Hey,” she replied.

“Where’s your new boyfriend?” he couldn’t stop himself from muttering. She narrowed her eyes at him, and he cursed inwardly. 

“Man, it’s cold tonight,” Ty Lee spoke up, trying to defuse the tension. “It’s be great if we could get a fire going.”

Zuko pondered this for a moment, before his gaze turned to look back up the hill.

“There’s plenty of stuff to burn in there,” he said.

“Sometimes, your ideas aren’t too bad,” agreed his sister, also following his gaze. It was no secret that she detested the place as much as he did. He went with her, more than positive nothing strange would happen if he were with another person.

When the siblings returned, it was with their memories. Zuko had taken the picture of their family and cast it into the budding fire, watching his ten year old reflection curl and burn away.

“What are you doing?” asked Ty lee, alarmed.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Zuko shot back.

“But it’s a painting of your family,”

“You think I care? You don’t know me, so why don’t you just mind your own business?”

“ Tch ...I know you…” she muttered.

“No, you don’t!” he shot back, angrily. “You’re stuck in your little Ty Lee world-- where everything’s great all the time.”

“Zuko, leave her alone,” Mai defended. He obeyed for the moment, but his temper urged him on. His tone turned mocking as he turned his back on them, facing the sea.

“I’m so pretty, look at me. I can walk on my hands, whoo !” he teased, and did a handstand to drive the impression further. He stared back at her upside down, insulted expression, feeling strangely alien in his body in the moment. He allowed himself to fall back and onto the sand. “Circus freak…” he muttered.

He could hear his sister’s unabashed laughter and felt his stomach curl from the sound. He wished he had the courage to tell her to shut up, but even with his temper his fear of her kept him in place.

“Yes, I’m a circus freak,” Ty Lee said over the laughter, which ended swiftly in the next moment. “Go ahead, laugh all you want. You wanna know why I joined the circus?”

No, thought Zuko, miserably.

“Here we go…” Azula could be heard to sigh.

“Do you have any idea what my home life was like growing up with six sisters who looked exactly like me? It was like, I didn’t even have my own name. I joined the circus because I was scared of spending the rest of my life as a part of a match set. At least I’m different now. Circus freak is a compliment.”

“Guess that explains why you need ten boyfriends too,” Mai muttered.

A pause.

“I’m sorry...what?!” Ty Lee exclaimed.

“Attention issues? You couldn’t get enough attention when you were a kid so you’re trying to make up for it now.”

Zuko snorted at this. He liked this side of her. It was the closest thing to an emotion that she could muster, he thought, listening to them argue.

“Well, what’s your excuse, Mai?” Ty Lee answered, her voice deceptively light and care-free. “You were an only child for fifteen years. But even with all that attention your aura is this dingy, pasty, gray…”

“I don’t believe in auras,” the other interrupted.

“Yeah,” said Zuko, turning in the sand to look over at Mai. “You don’t believe in anything.”

“Oh, well I’m sorry I can’t be as high-strung and crazy as the rest of you.”

“You know, I’m sorry too,” he shot back, getting to his feet. “I wish you would be. I wish you’d be high-strung, or crazy-- or anything. You keep everything bottled up, everything hidden away like we aren’t good enough for your feelings. She called your aura dingy--” he said, throwing a hand to Ty Lee. Mei’s gaze remained on the fire, as if ignoring him. “Are you really going to take that?”

“What do you want from me?” she asked, laying back, as if the entire conversation bored her. “You want a teary confession about how hard my childhood was? Well, it wasn’t. I was a rich only child who got anything I wanted...as long as I behaved...and sat still...and didn’t speak unless spoken to. My mother said I had to keep out of trouble. We had my dad’s political career to think about.”

“Well, that’s it then,” Azula interjected. “You had a controlling mother who had certain expectations, and if you strayed from them you were shut down. That’s why you’re afraid to care about anything.”

Ever the “people person” Azula had seemed to strike a nerve in Mai that actually pulled a look of indignation from the girl. Zuko watched with interest.

“And it’s why you can’t express yourself,” Azula finished with a thoughtful nod.

“You want me to express myself?” Mai asked, sitting up at once and on her feet, staring back at Azula with such fury and force, Zuko felt as though he were witnessing her finally pop off.  “Leave. Me. Alone !”

It was the first time he’d ever seen her shout. She held back everything, but in this moment, he had the strangest feeling that what she held back the most, was aimed at Azula.

A stillness hung in the air, and he knew his sister to be watching with amusement, challenging her. Azula welcomed conflict, it was like air to her.

He returned his gaze to Mai.

“Why don’t you tell me these things?” Zuko asked, walking closer to Mai, reaching out to maybe touch her shoulder. She slapped his hand away.

“Don’t touch me, I’m still mad at you.”

“Good! Be mad, be anything--”

“Why?” she demanded. “Why be anything when you never look at me?”

“What are you talking about?” he scoffed, looking at her like she was crazy. He’d just spent an entire day trying to get her to open up to him.

“You look in my direction, but I know you don’t see me.”

“That’s crazy.”

“Is it? This vacation was the first time I’ve seen you in days. You have to be dragged out of your room just to have breakfast with us. You never call on me, and you’re always either staring off or reading from that little black book.”

“Calm down guys,” Ty Lee spoke up again, perhaps hoping to turn this conversation away for another time, where she and Azula wouldn’t be present for it. “This much negative energy is bad for your skin. You’ll totally break out.”

Azula snickered.

“...bad skin?” Zuko asked, laughing in near disbelief. Ty Lee flinched. “Normal teenagers worry about bad skin. I don’t have that luxury. My father decided to teach me a permanent lesson-- on my face !” he yelled, pointing to the scar. She stared back, horrified.

“Sorry, Zuko, I…”

He didn't want to hear it, and turned away.

“For so long, I thought that if my dad accepted me, I’d be happy. I’m back home now. My dad talks to me. Ha-- he even thinks I’m a hero,” he said, bitterly shooting a look back to Azula, who cocked her head to the side with false interest, a threat just behind her eyes. He returned his gaze to the sand. “Everything should be perfect, right? I should be happy now...I deserve to be happy now...but...I’m not...” he said, and raised his gaze to the sea, to the horizon, to the moonlight that danced on the choppy waters. He turned away from them, knowing his gaze would be locked on the horizon if he gazed too long. “I’m angrier than I’ve ever been and I don’t know why!”

“There’s a simple question you need to answer then,” his sister shrugged. “Who are you angry at?”

“No one, I’m just angry…” he answered, feeling the lie gently clutch his throat, his words dying out.

“Yeah, who are you angry at, Zuko?” Mai asked.

“Everyone-- I don’t know!” he shot back.

“Is it dad?” Azula pried.

“N-no!” he answered quickly, suddenly fearful.

“You’re uncle?” asked Ty Lee.

“Me?” asked Azula

“No! No...no!” he said and grabbed his head, his own brain wracking over the answer.

“Then who is it? It’s got to be someone” Mai pressed.

“Who are you angry at?” asked Azula, “answer the question, Zuko.”

“Talk to us,” pleaded Ty Lee,

“Come on, answer the question,” Mai demanded.

“Answer it!” said Azula.

The cacophony of his friend’s voices drew his thoughts to a stand still.

In that stillness, in his mind, he could see Sokka staring coldly back, before turning his back on him.

“I’m angry at myself!” he yelled, throwing his hands down from his head, and the camp fire roared up in response from his terrible grief. He stared into the raging flames that shot up above their heads like a dragon’s breath. The others flinched away as hot embers exploded out and danced around on the air.

He was gone from his tether’s side, gone and unable to stop thinking about him. Mai could not be his substitute, no matter how much he forced himself to think of her. She wasn't him. She didn’t have his smile, his eyes, his excitement, his love.

His eyes widened at the last thought, and he stared strunned into the fire that suddenly almost all but extinguished, having eaten through the wood and junk they’d thrown into it. The embers died down, the area went dark, his shocked gaze remained on the charred, dead, wood.

Is that what he’d been doing, he wondered with quiet bewilderment. Making Mai into Sokka’s substitute? But then that would mean...

He loved Sokka.

Stunned by the revelation, he turned away from the group. Why had this truth only dawned on him now? Why after he’d made his decision, after it was too late?

“...why?” asked Azula, and for a moment, Zuko had to shake himself, struggling to remember the last thing he said out loud.

“Because I’m confused,” he answered, his voice horse with emotion. “Because I’m not sure...I know the difference between right and wrong anymore…” he said, shaking his head. Was wanting home and his father’s love so wrong? Isn’t that what everyone wanted in life? It wasn’t wrong, he assured himself, and as stand-alone statements, they weren’t. But to get it, he’d thrown Sokka away, hurt his friend horribly, and allowed Ba Sing Se to be conquered. He wondered what was happening to that little tea shop now.

“You’re pathetic,” scoffed his sister.

For once, he agreed with her.

He heard some movement behind him from Mai’s direction, and heard her slide off the boulder she’d been sitting on to join his side.

“I know one thing I care about…” she said, quietly. He felt her hand on his back, and in truth there was some relief to that touch, no longer a strained need that pulled at his mind. He could see her for who she was, but this came with the knowledge that she was not in his heart.

“I care about you,” she continued.

He smiled at her, and turned his body to face her. He gently, and with some somber serious tone that pulled a quiet look of confusion from her, embraced her.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I’ve been...a real jerk to you…you deserve better.”

“Zuko…?” she wondered, but the sound of bored, slow, clapping drove them apart. Azula looked on, vaguely amused like she were watching a mildly interesting play.

“Well, those were wonderful performances, everyone.”

“I guess you wouldn’t understand, would you, Azula?” aked Zuko, “Because you’re just so perfect.”

“Well, yes, I guess you’re right,” she sighed, looking quite pleased. “I don’t have sob stories like all of you. I could sit here and complain how our mom liked Zuko more than me, but, I don’t really care,” she shrugged, turning her gaze to the embers. “My own mother…” she continued, her tone thoughtful, “...thought I was a monster.”

Zuko stared at his sister, stunned. He had not been aware that Azula thought this, and he wasn’t sure of its validity. It was hard to know what his mother really thought of Azula, he realized, since she’d always spent much time with him. Azula pulled out of the memory, her mask back on a smile in place and a simple shrug. “She was right of course, but it still hurt.”

A quiet moment passed between everyone, staring into the fire that now completely went dead.

“Woah…” whispered Ty lee. “Lo and Li were right. The beach did help us learn about ourselves,” she turned and grabbed up a pumice stone from the sand. “I feel all smoothed. I’ll always remember this.”

“That’s all well and fine,” said Azula standing, but do you know what would make this night even more memorable?”

As it turns out, and unsurprisingly, Azula’s idea of a good time was trashing the party they’d left. Deadly, smart, and petty, these were the traits that defined Azula the best, in Zuko’s opinion. And in his opinion of himself, well, he almost didn’t mind setting a curtain or two on fire, as well as ax-kicking the dining table in half.

A good way to let off steam after a venting session.

As a final parting gift, they set the house on fire.

--

Everyone within the beach house was asleep, everyone except Azula. Zuko was a heavy sleeper, easy to creep past. Azula had entered his room with no problem, waking no one as she went in, the little black book in her hand. She’d easily stolen it earlier, after her brother had left the party. She returned it to Zuko’s things, tucking it back in the place she’d found it in his bag. She quickly left, closing the door behind her with a gentle click that was almost barely heard.

She remained in the main room of the beach house, her gaze shifted to the floor in thought.

Sokka.

The name was more than familiar, as a certain prisoner she’d captured just before the fall of Ba Sing Se had repeatedly threatened Azula with this person’s revenge for capturing her.

Yet, this was curious, what did this boy have to do with her brother? Not only this, she mused quietly as she wandered to the outer dining deck, looking to the ocean, what could she do with this information?

Well Zuko was in an already comfortable spot for her. If the Avatar were alive and revealed himself during the Eclipse Invasion, Zuko would be poised to take the fall, and she’d rise as next in line for the crown. Now, she could accuse Zuko of collusion with the enemy, but after helping her take down the Avatar, there’d be very little evidence to support it, and it would make her look desperate. 

Still, this information wasn’t useless, even if she didn't have need of it at the moment. Anything that showed her brother in a poor light was useful. Then again, there might be other ways to use such information. Perhaps she’d simply hold onto it for a little while longer. Allow Zuko’s suspicions to drop and for him to grow comfortable again.

She smirked.

She did so enjoy a good puzzle.

Chapter Text

“Avatar Roku contacted you in your dreams?” asked Katara.
The team was seated around a campfire on the outskirts of the Fire Nation civilization. They had a ways to go before they would reach the rendezvous point, and were enjoying breakfast before they’d begun their plans for the day.
Aang nodded in response to Katara’s question.
“Yeah, he said it was time I knew the past history of him and Sozin, and the war.”
“What’s there to know?” shrugged Sokka, mouth full of food. “Sozin was evil, started a war, and now we gotta stop it before it gets worse. What could he possibly say about the past that would make any difference?”
“I don’t know,” shrugged Aang, “but if Avatar Roku thinks it’s important, it probably is.”
“So, how do you contact a dead guy?” asked Toph.
“I meditate. Avatars have access to their past lives through meditation. They act as guides.”
“Can other people do that? Meditate and access their past lives?”
Aang shrugged.
“Probably? I don’t see why not?”
“How about because no one else is the Avatar?” said Sokka, giving a short laugh.
“Still,” started Katara thoughtfully, “It might be possible.”
“Oh come on, there’s no scientific evidence supporting the fact that past lives exist.”
“But the Avatar--”
“The Avatar is so outside the exception he may as well be from another world,” said Sokka, waving his hand.
“...but there’s such a thing as tethers…” muttered Toph. Sokka shot her a look, but turned away in the next. When was he going to learn that she can't see his expressions? She laughed anyway.
“A Spirit’s Tether,” hummed Katara, getting that dreamy look she normally got when thinking of romance. “I bet it would be wonderful to have one.”
Sokka rolled his eyes and Toph chuckled.
“Yeah,” sighed Aang. “It must be fun to be able to talk to people in your dreams.”
“Or a pain…” muttered Sokka. Katara laughed.
“Why am I not surprised? Anytime something nice or romantic like tethers come up, you’re always ready to shoot it down.”
“Hey, if the point is to be asleep, why spend it talking to someone?”
“But your tether is supposed to be someone you feel most at home with,” continued Katara, “it’s someone who's supposed to make you feel at ease, someone you can share all your secrets and desires with.”
He let out a short breath, turning away.
“Unless they’re a jerk…” he muttered.
“If they’re your tether they wouldn’t be a jerk,” Katara argued.
“I don’t know,” started Toph, “I heard that tethers don’t always have happy endings.”
“Oh, yeah,” nodded Aang. “That’s true. Sometimes it ends in tragedy.”
“Why’s that?” Katara asked.
“Well, it’s said that tethers are supposed to achieve something together,” said Aang in thought, “They have a destiny, and are supposed to help mould the world with their actions. If they turn from their destiny, it doesn’t always end well.”
Sokka clicked his tongue.
“Why would anyone turn from the person who’s supposed to be closest to them?” asked Katara.
“Because they’re a jerk,” muttered Sokka. Katara shot him a glare, thinking he was teasing her.
“Well, I wouldn’t do that,” she scoffed. “I’d always try and find some middle ground, at least some way to work together.”
Sokka’s eye twitched. Aang started up again,
“There are stories of tethers turning away from one another, but when they work together they achieve so much! Like the lovers from Omashu! They were tethered.”
“They were?” asked Sokka.
“Yeah,” nodded Aang. “When we got separated, Katara and I found their tomb, and in it, it told the story of their life. They were tethered, and saw each other in dreams, but were determined to meet each other. They learned earthbending from the badgermoles, and met in secret.”
“But one day,” started Katara, “the man, Shu, never came back. Oma, the woman, learned he’d died in the war between their people.”
“With a powerful display of earthbending, Oma stopped the war,” started Aang, “and declared that there would be peace. And that’s how Omashu was created.”
Aang smiled, leaning back on his hands when he finished. Sokka looked to the relaxed and smiling faces of his friends, unsure how such a tale could make them feel assured or at peace as they seemed.
“Um...hello?” said Sokka, looking at all of them. “Shu died. How is this a good story?”
“But if they hadn’t met, if they hadn’t fallen in love and learned earthbending, Oma could have never stopped the war and created peace.”
“So Shu had to die for peace? Oma had to lose her tether? Just for peace?”
“That’s destiny," shrugged Katara.
“That’s garbage!” Sokka exclaimed. “Why do people have to keep dying because it’s their fate? Because it incites change? Why can’t we change things while we’re alive?”
“I don’t know,” said Katara, holding up her hands in defense. “It’s just one instance, no need to get worked up about it.”
“Aren’t there any happy tethered stories?” sighed Sokka, running a hand down his face. “About two people who don’t die? Because it seems like being tethered is a curse.”
Toph snickered before she spoke up,
“I had a nanny once who told me a story about two tethers that died together.”
“Great. You’re a real help Toph,” shot Sokka, bitterly.
“Why do you care so much?” asked Katara, “It’s not like you’re tethered.”
“Wh-- well-- I don’t! I just think it’s dumb that a spirit just ties people together and messes with fate like that. We’re the ones who should be deciding our own actions, not a bunch of floaty ghost-things that don’t even live here. This isn’t even their world! Why do they care?”
Toph was cackling at this point, and even Katara was struggling to keep a straight face, surprised by his outburst.
“I’m being serious!” he said, his voice cracking.
“You’re such a softy,” smiled Katara. “It’s sweet how much you don't want someone’s tether to die.”
“That’s not sweet. I’m not being sweet!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands up.
“If it makes you feel better,” smiled Aang, “there is a story about two tethers who live that the monks told me about.”
“What’s the catch?” he said, eyeing him suspiciously.
“...They went to prison for the rest of their life...” he smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. Toph laughed again, rolling on her back with her feet in the air. Sokka’s eye twitched a little harder. “But!” said Aang, throwing his hands out, “they were both alive, and they were happy.”
“They were happy? In prison?!” he exclaimed.
“It’s complicated?” he shrugged, apologetically. “You see, they were two airbenders who--”
“Spare me the details,” said Sokka throwing out a hand. “I’d rather not know.”
“You asked,” teased Katara with a smile.
“I regret it,” he said. “And will you stop laughing!” he snapped at Toph.
“Sorry ponytail, you just make it so easy to dunk on.”
“I’ll dunk you,” he shot back, with no real threat to his words. She took it with a smile.
“Not if I dunk you straight into the earth’s core!” she laughed.
“Well, whether we like it or not,” Aang started, breaking them up, “these things happen. They happen for a reason, and if I’ve learned anything, it’s that the harder anyone tries to run away from their destiny, the worse the outcome.”
The other two went quiet, their attention caught by Aang’s solemn tone. The boy had learned that the hard way, hadn’t he, thought Sokka. With another breath, and seeming to pull out of his memory, he spoke again. “Destiny is just the point in time or place we reach where a decision has to happen. We can choose to fight it, or accept it. Good normally comes from accepting it, even if we don’t understand why at the moment.”
Everyone went quiet then, preoccupied in their own meanings of the word destiny, and how it applied to them. The Avatar took in a deep breath and let it out, then stood in that moment.
“Well, speaking of destiny, we should head out.”
“Head out...where?” asked Katara.
“To Roku’s old home. He said that’s where he’ll meet me.”
“Do you know the way?” asked Sokka. Aang gave a nod and put a hand to his chest.
“I think it’s instinctual, kinda? But we should start heading out.”

The Gaang reached the island in the late afternoon, but what met their gaze was not a lush home village, but a completely desolate island. Where once was a thriving village, now there was only lava rock. According to Toph, buried beneath the layers and layers of volcanic ash now turned to stone, the village remained.
So it was here, at Roku’s destroyed home, where the previous Avatar wished to speak to Aang.
The young Avatar took his place on a cliff side, trusting his friends would watch over his physical body as he entered the Spirit World. The other’s knew he’d crossed over successfully by the glowing of his tattoos, and quietly breathed a sigh of relief.
“So...how long is this going to take?” whispered Toph.
“It’s hard to say,” said Katara. “It could take minutes, or even hours depending.”
Sokka was quiet as he watched his friend, but as the sun sank further down over the horizon, he leaned back against Appa.
“I say we take shifts,” he suggested. “We’ll take turns watching Aang and alert the others when he’s back.”
“Sounds good to me,” said Toph. “Who wants to go first?”
“I will,” said Katara. “I’m not tired yet.”
“Well, have fun with that,” said the earthbender, who got to her feet and began walking around.
“Where are you going?” asked Sokka.
“There’s a whole buried village under here. I wanna check it out.”
“Fair enough,” he sighed, and leaned back against Appa.
His mind wandered back to his destiny, and the invasion. A mix of thoughts came tumbling back to him, remembering the vision the blue dragon presented him with, which he huffed at. Then again, there had been the red dragon, who had told Sokka he had not been ready for what he’d had to say at the time. He blinked to himself, wondering what that had meant. He hadn't seen the other one since then. Did that mean anything? He sighed and shook his head, wondering since when he cared about spirits and what they had to say.

--

Zuko sat alone in the private dining quarters of the Royal Family. It would be empty so late at night, or early in the morning, depending on how one looked at it.
His hands were laced through his hair. His head hung suspended by their grip as he stared at the scroll that had been the catalyst for this state he now found himself in. On it read;
“You need to know the story of your great-grandfather’s demise. It will reveal your own destiny.”

He’d gone digging and found the truth alright, that his Grandfather Sozin had committed a treacherous act that had ended Avatar Roku’s life. Fire Lord Sozin would then go on to be praised as one of the greatest Fire Nation leaders as he began spreading World War with the rest of the Nations, as well as being the one who ordered the raid and decimation on the Air Nomad people.
All this, Zuko knew.
What he had not known, what had him gripping his locks currently, was that the message had not been about his grandfather Sozin. He was learning the history of his other grandfather, Avatar Roku.
His hands held a slight tremble to them. He sat quietly staring in the lavish but austere dining room.
These two sides of him, the side that shared blood with the bringer of balance and peace, and the side who sought destruction and pitted themselves above everyone else in the world, fought within him. They were like two great serpents in his mind, both somehow dangerous to his current life. They circled about one another in parallel and opposite sides, whispering truths in his mind to tip the scale of judgement in their favor.
He did not know the difference between right and wrong, what he wanted and what he needed.

His uncle had been the one to deliver its news to him, sent from his cell. When Zuko went to confront him about this confusing discovery, it had been the first time the man had spoken to him in a month since returning home. Zuko had almost wished he hadn’t.

What was he to do with this information? Did the man simply tell him to wear on his consciousness? To distract him? Was this revenge for Ba Sing Se? For taking away his Tea Shop, his new life, his dreams?
He sighed with aggravation at his own petty thoughts-- he knew his Uncle to be a more upstanding man than that. The old former general prioritizes the happiness of others over himself; he’d proven as much to Zuko several times over when they were fugitives in the Earth Kingdom.
But then what purpose did his Uncle have in giving him this information? What was the use if not to torture the Prince into knowing that no matter what he chose he’d be betraying his bloodline?
His fist slammed down on the table then and he stood. But where was he to go? To Bed? Too many thoughts circulated in his mind to warrant sleep. Then out? In the halls? Servants might see him. Servants talk. They whisper, and whispers often lead back to royal ears if one wasn’t careful. Truly then, he was caught.
A decision lay before him, a decision he thought he’d already made many weeks ago in Ba Sing Se. A decision he was sure he resolved and was out of his hands, that he no longer had a say in, despite how it tore at his heart, his consciousness.
His Uncle had spoken his peace, given him this information and this opportunity to think. He would give no further council, Zuko was sure.
He wished he had something, someone, to talk to.
He wished he could talk to Sokka.
His mind turned to the turtleduck pond. A place of peace and serenity.
He remembered how it looked in the Spirit World all that time ago, and felt himself suddenly drawn to the pond’s waters.
Quietly, he took up his Uncle’s message in his hands and burned the paper away. He watched it curl and bend in the heat, turning to ash that snowed softly down to the table below them.
He crept through the halls, which were dimly lit so that servants and guards might be able to still navigate it in the early hours. He listened carefully for footsteps before rounding corners, taking his time until he finally found his way to the royal garden.

A sliver of waxing moonlight shown down on the water’s glassy surface. Quietly, and with one last look around, he stepped out onto the grassy area. He felt uneasy, exposed as he was, but continued forward, as if his heart were not hammering in his chest as the thought of being spotted. But then, why should he worry about visiting his own garden? Of servants talking? At least he wasn’t suspiciously wandering the halls. Of what would they speak of? That the moody Prince was visiting the pond so late at night? Surely that wasn’t suspicious.

He sat down before the edge of the pond, crossing his legs and casting his gaze to the water’s calm surface.
It was said in the Fire Nation that water held a sort of secret power to it. Mystics and Fire Sages said water was like a bridge between worlds. Having been to the Spirit World once before, he knew such things to be true.
He needed council.
He needed advice.
He did not know who would answer, but he closed his eyes and allowed his heart to beat this silent plea, that someone, anyone, might answer him.

Sitting there for a few minutes, he felt a change come over him. He was lighter, and he soon found himself to be surrounded in a vast darkness, even as he opened his eyes. This sent him to panicking a moment, before some familiar light cast itself on him from behind.

The high-pitch hum of beetle wings met his ears, and he turned back to see a little ball of light gently floating closer to him. His eyes widened at the sight.
“It’s you…” he breathed. He’d expected Iwei, but not this little spirit. He held out his hand, palm up, allowing it to rest in his palm as he asked, “What are you doing here?”
It tapped it’s little foot on his palm, with some impatience.
“Right, I know I called out, I just didn’t expect you. I expected...well, it doesn’t matter. How are you? Is your spring still safe?”
It bowed it’s little body forward, as if to nod, then took off from his palm, hovering just above it. It began to fly a few inches away, but slowly, still facing Zuko, as if to urge him forward
“You...want me to follow you?” he asked.
Whether it did or did not, it began to fly away and in a certain direction. Zuko stood up and began to follow it. It was now flying at such a rate that he had to run just to keep up with it. The little bug hurried ever on into the darkness when something-- like the roll of thunder-- raged out from within the shadow void and shot out. Something blue and looking to be the size of a battleship, careened out from within the darkness and toward them. Zuko barely had time to register what had just happened when he saw a large maw open, with dangerous teeth that snapped shut around his little guide and continued on into the darkness, disappearing.

He stood stunned, his hands still up in defense, struck cold from the sight of watching the helpless little spirit get eaten.

He heard a deep growl emanating from all around, and smoke rolled out from all angles around his feet.
“My lord…” said a voice, low and sweet, soft but commanding. “We’re a bit old to be chasing bugs like peasants in the summer fields, aren’t we?”
“What...did you just do?” Zuko breathed, just starting to come out of his shock. “Who are you?!”
“I am a friend, my lord. Or, something closer.”
“I’ve never met you before. You’re no friend of mine!”
“Oh, are you so sure? Quite forgetful, sire. Was it not I that has given you council in the past?”
“What are you talking about?”
Something large moved within the darkness, the only sign of it doing so was the loud sound of scales shifting, and the motion of the smoke as it became disturbed, the result of it whipping up in a circle around him.
“We have been together a long time...but it’s only recently you’ve really started to listen to me. Started to hear and see me, even while you’re awake.”
“Stop messing with me and tell me who you are!”
“I am but your humble servant.”
Zuko stared into the darkness, his expression turning from fear to anger.
“You don’t believe me?” it continued, “Aww, was it because I ate your little friend?” it simpered. “Don’t worry, your majesty, such trifling actions cannot harm a spirit here. I may return the little creature, should you care for it.”
“Yes,” he demanded.
“As you wish…” it sighed.
The sound of buzzing started up, and a little glowing light blue light suddenly shot out from the darkness and to Zuko’s waiting hands. He looked down at the creature for any sign of damage, and did note there was a small scratch on its shell, creating a spot that did not glow like the rest of her, but was a dull brown color. He frowned, his eyes raising and looking back into the void.
The owner of the voice quietly revealed itself from the deeper darkness. The light of the spirit reflected off the sleek blue scales of the dragon that stared back at Zuko. The boy’s heart leapt into his throat at this sight, for that was the same face he’d seen behind him in the beach house on Ember Island. His mind recalled he’d even seen it before that, back in the Earth Kingdom when he was sick with fever.
He stared at it in silent awe and fear.
“Now do you remember?” it asked, knowingly.
“I...I do...and I remember another one. Where is it?” he asked, looking about. The blue dragon snarled, it’s upper lip curling to reveal sharp teeth with deep, red gums.
“The red dragon is of no use to you, sire. Not like I, your humble servant.”
The dragon gently pushed itself further forward. Zuko stared back incedulously, his eyes breaking their gaze a moment as if to look for some place to run from the beast.
“You should really be thanking me,” said the blue dragon. “Were it not for my interference, this little creature would have led you to your downfall.”
“I doubt that,” he said, holding it protectively.
“Do you? Then, should I bow out of the way and allow you to run blindly back to your tether?”
Zuko’s eyes widened. Was that where he was being led? The waterbug’s wings gave a high pitched hum, as if talking back to the dragon.
“Humph, pest,” the blue dragon muttered at it.
“I...I was running toward Sokka?”
“What a nasty little trickster this thing is, yes? Better for it to have been swatted away like the pest it--”
“Enough!” he said, but his interruption pulled from it a growl that it seemed to fight to keep from turning into a roar. The tension in the air was thick then, a silence that seemed to beg for disastrous action, like the dragon within the darkness was barely keeping from lashing out at him. Its growl declined into a pur, and the beast once more began to circle him, calmly, like a fish in water. It’s long body blocked off any possibility of Zuko escaping.
“As you wish...my lord. Run to him should you like. Only...I’m not sure how happy he’d be to see you. After all…” it sighed, “you did send someone to assassinate the Avatar.”
His eyes widened, remembering that this was true.
“Ahh...but how interesting would it be, to meet him again after such betrayal?” it continued as it wound around him, coming slightly closer. “You know, my lord, the more I reason it out, the more I find myself also drawn to the idea of you meeting your tether. What will he say?”
Zuko’s hands began to shake.
“Why do you hesitate, sire?” it whispered, directly behind him, the heat of it’s breath washing over his neck and back. The smell of smoke and the sting of embers wound its way to his front. “Oh? Perhaps his majesty has had a change of heart…?”
The little waterbug hummed up at Zuko, but he was staring ahead of him, into the unknown, into the darkness, and he suddenly felt so small.
“What did you expect?” continued the dragon. “There is a war, Prince Zuko. A war demands a victor. It is either that you will rise to the throne, or you will fall by his hands. Or you both fall with your hesitation...after all, such was the way of two unlucky tethers.”
The beetle hummed and floated up, begging him to follow again, but he found himself immobilized, scared. He could not face Sokka. He also could not deny that he still longed for him. He’d wrestled to push down these emotions, even after their return from the beach vacation (restful as that had been), his thoughts had often drifted back to him. They drifted back to one strange incident while running after footsteps in his home, as well, of Sokka dressed in royal red robes with the crown of fire pinned into his neatly done-up hair.
“If you are patient, however,” continued the blue dragon, “you may yet get everything you want.”
The words felt like ice water trickling down his spine and making his stomach plummet.
“...what do you mean?” he asked.
“Now is not the time,” it said, pulling it’s head away. “Come away, my lord...think no more of such disturbing things. Victory is ensured, and your country needs it’s prince.”
The waterbug’s wings hummed in such a way as to make it seem as though it were whining in protest, and flew further forward to urge Zuko to follow, but as he stared at it, and to the darkness beyond, he shook his head.
“I’m sorry…” he told it, his voice on the verge of cracking from hopelessness. And thus, he turned and headed back the way he’d come.

A rush of cold air suddenly blew past him in a strong wind.
His eyes widened and he turned back, expecting the wintry spirit to stand before him. But, he saw nothing, save for the snow that gently drifted down from the draft that had carried it. A howl sounded from the depths, the sound carried another cool breeze.
“Iwei…” he breathed.
“Mutt…” snarled the dragon.
“They’re calling…”
“But not for you…” said the blue dragon, suddenly turning as something else rumbled from the distance.
A streak of red streamed out from the darkness and shot past them, it’s speed so fast that the wind that followed it nearly knocked Zuko off his feet. It was the red dragon, but it did not stop, even as the blue dragon snapped at it, it’s large jaws missing the red body that jerked itself out of the way just in time. Zuko watched as the beast smoothly sailed away and into the darkness, toward the sound of howling, before disappearing all together.
“Where's he going?” Zuko wondered.
“It doesn't matter,” snarled the other one. “Your destiny is assured...and nothing will derail it…” it’s words were nearly lost to the deep, rumbling growls that emanated out from it.

--

Dawn had broken over the horizon when Aang had finally returned. His friends gathered around to hear the sad story of Sozin and Roku.
“You mean, after all Roku and Sozin went through together, even after Roku showed him Mercy, Sozin betrayed him like that?” asked Katara in disbelief.
“It’s like these people are born bad,” said Toph. Sokka was inclined to agree with her.
“No, that’s wrong,” said Aang, “I don't think that was the point of what Roku showed me at all.”
“Then what was the point?”
“Roku was just as much Fire Nation as Sozin was, right? If anything, their story proves anyone’s capable of great good and great evil. Everyone, even the Fire Lord, and the Fire Nation have to be treated like they’re worth giving a chance.”

The night had been rough, the team had barely slept. Before continuing on their way, they stopped off somewhere to rest. Aang’s words had rattled about in Sokka’s mind for a while, even when they’d landed, he found himself still thinking about them. Luckily, with a few deep breaths, he found he could quiet his mind enough to drift away.

He awoke to the void.
He was laying, as he had been when he’d fallen asleep. He drew himself up and looked around for Iwei, but found he was alone. Then, a howl in the distance called out. He got to his feet and looked about himself, before following the sound.
“Iwei?” he called out. “Iwei! You there?”
He ran until his feet touched soft grassy ground. He looked around himself in his new surroundings.
He was in a garden. A single tree stood in the middle of it, casting shadows from the moonlight to the pond it was rooted before. A figure sat at the edge of the pond, sheltered in the shadows, their eyes closed. Curious, Sokka stepped forward, but it didn't take long for him to realize who the mysterious figure was.
He froze, not wishing to make his presence known to the Fire Prince. Maybe, if he just tip-toed away…
“I hear you,” said Zuko.
Sokka froze and turned back. He recognized Zuko’s voice, but had also heard another voice layered over it; two voices speaking as one.
“I wish to speak to you.”
“You...you’re not Zuko...are you?”
The figure opened their eyes and raised their head, but did not turn to Sokka.
“I am, and I am not.”
“Ulch...you’re one of those dragons.”
“I am.”
“Well...are you like that blue one?”
“I am.”
“Great.”
“And I am not.”
Sokka stared at the image of Zuko, narrowing his eyes.
“Which is it?” asked Sokka. “Are you good or bad?”
“I am capable of great evil, and great good,” he answered. “I am both, and I am neither.”
Sokka made a sound of aggravation and threw his hands up.
“With spirits like you in the guy’s blood, no wonder he can’t just think straight and be happy.”
“Is that what you think?”
“...maybe,” he said, folding his arms. “If you spirits would just leave us alone, if you would just let us figure out our own stuff, then maybe he wouldn’t have…” his arms dropped, one of them gently clasping the other arm as it hung at his side. The image of Zuko closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh.
“It is not wise to delude yourself to the truth of Prince Zuko’s actions.”
“Don’t lecture me,” he muttered, narrowing his eyes at the ground.
There was a silence again, and eventually Sokka’s gaze drew up from the ground to the dragon.
“So,” he started, facing the imposter, “you said you wanted to talk? Well, I don’t hear much talking. And unless it’s an apology from his majesty jerk-face, I don’t wanna hear it.”
The other let out yet another breath, keeping their gaze out to the pond, before they spoke.
“You once called out for your destiny to be laid out before you. It was the night you rejected Iwei.”
“I didn’t reject...mmph…” he let his word fall and folded his arms, casting his gaze to the ground. “Okay fine, I did. I was angry.”
“Your anger is justified.”
“I...oh...thanks?”
“May I continue?”
“Erm...yeah, sure,” he said, and sat down.
“That night, you’d asked for a destiny, and the blue dragon was more than happy to grant you one.”
“You mean he made it up?”
“No.”
Sokka frowned.
“That is one possible destiny,” said the red dragon, through Zuko.
“Then...then I can avoid it?”
“Certainly.”
“Wh-why didn't you tell me this earlier?”
“Because what you wanted, the blue dragon could give, but what you needed you were not ready for at the time.”
“Fine,” he sighed “What do I need?”
“To believe in him.”
Sokka stared at him as the red dragon continued.
“One day, he will return to you. Upon that day, you must forgive him. You must allow him in.”
Sokka stared in shock at the red dragon’s visage for a moment, then stood up.
“No,” he said.
“It is your destiny to--”
“I don’t care what my destiny is anymore. I don't want either of you telling me what to do. This was a waste of time,” he huffed and turned away.
“You love him.”
The words stopped Sokka in his tracks. He turned back, looking hurt, but the other’s gaze remained pointed ahead of him.
“You cannot deny it.”
“Being in love with him didn’t make him stay, it just hurt worse when he left. And it doesn’t mean he ever loved me.”
“He does.”
Sokka had moved to walk again, but the words had yanked his attention back. He stared at the image of Zuko, sitting in tranquil quiet, looking out to the still water’s surface where the moon reflected. It irritated him. Not once had this imposter even looked at him, acknowledged that he was there aside from speaking to him. Sokka strode over to him, stopping a foot or so away, staring down at him, but the other remained, not moving.
“Why’d he do it?” Sokka asked, staring down at this visage as if he were truly staring down at Zuko. “What excuse do you have that’ll make me magically forgive him?”
“You are searching for one to alleviate the pain. I have none.”
“Then you don’t get to tell me how I feel about him or if I should forgive him or not,” he said.
“As much pain as he is capable of causing you, he can also be a source of healing, should you let him. Do not forget that.”
Sokka narrowed his eyes down at him, before turning and walking away, into the yawning darkness that opened up before him.

--

In the following week, Zuko tried to put everything he learned out of his mind. He tried to act as though he could forget it all, that it wouldn’t creep up on him in the quiet moments. So, he tried to make himself as busy as possible.
It was for this reason that Zuko found himself with Mai almost every day.

She was happier, as a result. His visits there were always welcomed, and he’d go to her, asking her what was on her mind, what her day had been like. He would sit, and listen, losing himself in her voice, in her touch. He’d sometimes come with lavish gifts of food, knives, and things a little on the macabre side, just to incite a pleased reaction. She always accepted, though he’d steadily learned to lean away from hair ornaments, as they were a mixed result most of the time. Knives too. She was far more knowledgeable than he was when it came to the small throwing kunai, and he decided he’d leave the weaponry to her judgement. Food and desserts were the safest bet.
He’d rarely dine on them.
In all the time he spent home, he had not mastered his stomach, which ached after every meal, and never seemed to want for food until the last moment when he was pushed on the edge of starving himself. He stuck to tea, mostly, but even that would leave a dry bitterness in the back of his tongue that would make him nauseous if his mind lingered on it.

Mai was happier these days. Of course she’d always expressed her displeasure for something, had always spoken up about minor irritants, and the day to day boredom that growing up an aristocrat held, and he found her charming for these reasons. She wasn’t afraid to express the tedium, and the extreme hypocrisy of their status. She wasn’t there to exalt or flatter any one member of the court, including himself. She said things as they were, her honesty as plain as the tone of her voice. He enjoyed it. And now, after their trip to the beach, she’d even express the things she liked. These were far and few in between but when they were there he was relieved.

Zuko found as they were growing to know one another, that Mai had many sides to her, and that he, in fact, enjoyed spending time with her.
Yet, their proximity to one another had grown distant since their return. Certainly he was doing everything a good boyfriend, and a boyfriend who was also a prince, ought to do by traditional standards. Gifts, dates, and nights alone with her were plenty, but they’d begun to develop some...respectful...distance from each other.

“Really?” asked Mai, a hint of coyness to her normally flat affect.
They were seated on the veranda at the moment, with Mai delicately fanning herself, the smallest trace of a smile on her face as they enjoyed mid-morning snacks. They sat across from one another, the small table of food between them.
“It’s true,” said Zuko, confidently. “Those thugs had no idea just who they were messing with.”
“What happened to the town?”
“I’m...not sure. When they found out I was Fire Nation, they turned their back on me. So I left.”
“That’s ungrateful,” she said, tilting her head to the side. “The least they could have said was thank you.”
“I guess…” he mused, his eyes shifting from the table to the outside. The day was calm, peaceful. The sunlight hurt his eyes, but he forced his gaze outward, to appreciate the home he fought so hard to return to.
“Is this poisoned?” she asked, suddenly drawing his attention back with quiet alarm.
“Huh?”
He looked to her finger, which was pointing down to the small tray of desserts he’d brought for her.
“No…?” he said, he said, returning his gaze to her. “...why? Does something taste off?”
“You don’t know?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.
He blinked in confusion.
“You haven’t touched anything,” she said. “It makes me a bit suspicious...”
His eyes widened slightly, and with some embarrassment he quickly reached out and grabbed a small tart and shoved the delicate pastry into his mouth. She watched him, holding back her bewilderment in all but her eyes as he thoughtfully tried to taste whatever it was she was hinting at. Then, finally, she moved her fan just high enough that her eyes might peer over, but her eyes betrayed her humor as she watched him chew. He finished, forcing himself to swallow despite his stomach’s resistance, and returned his gaze to her.
“It tastes fine to me, but do you want me to send these away? Do think someone’s dared to--”
“Zuko!” she finally burst, which was more of a soft exclamation and a chuckle. “Zuko, no.”
He stared at her in confusion.
“I’m trying to tell you that you barely touch your food,” she said, calming her laughter.
“...well...you could have said so,” he muttered. She shook her head and sighed.
“But...I’ve noticed you barely eat anything, at any meal. Are you sick?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted quietly, the taste of the yuzu on his tongue making him nauseous. “But...I’m not sure what it is. I know I missed these foods, I know I still have favorite dishes from home-- er-- here. But...but it’s different, somehow. It turns my stomach, and I can’t figure out why.”
“Have you been to see the physician?”
“Yes.”
“What did they say?”
“I should be fine. That nothing was wrong.”
“But something is wrong.”
“I know.”
“So go back and tell them.”
“No,” he said, averting his gaze.
“But why?”
“I don’t think...I don’t think what’s wrong with me is physical.”
“What do you mean?”
She waited patiently for more, but after a moment, leaned back in her chair. He turned his gaze back to her.
“My father still hasn’t summoned me to the war room.”
“I see…” she said, thoughtfully. “That really bothers you.”
“I just...I know he’s forgiven me, but it’s time I actually proved to be of use. I want him to see me as Prince, not only in title, but in duty to my country.”
“I’m sure he will,” she said, “just give him time.”
Her words seemed to offer no reassurance for him, and he simply resolved to sulk as he looked out the window. With nothing she could do or say, she too turned to look out to the peaceful morning.
On a sunny day like this, one would find it hard to believe that the moon could ever somehow eclipse the sun. In a few short days, such marvels would come to pass, and two tethers would meet again.

They were quiet like this a moment, before Zuko endeavored to pull his thoughts back and looked at her.
“I love you,” he said. She turned back to him, but her expression was neither surprised, nor happy. She was looking at him with an air of judgement. He frowned, furrowing his brow. “I mean it,” he said.
A smile quirked at her lips before it fell away.
“I know,” she said, looking away.
“You’re supposed to say it back,” he joked lightly, leaning in.
“Maybe I don’t feel the same way.”
He blinked, looking at her. She huffed then, and gently shook her head.
“Of course I love you,” she answered. He smiled, and his smile broadened hers. He’d gotten up from one side of the table and went around to her side, kneeling down and leaning up to kiss her. Before their lips met, there was a sharp knock at the door in the room behind them. Mai sighed and stood up.
“Enter,” she answered.
A servant to her family home walked with a small bow.
“Lady Mai, Princess Azula is here to see you.”
Zuko watched at the stone mask returned to Mai’s face, all warmth seeped out from the news and she merely gave a tempered nod.
“Let her know I’ll be there in a moment,” she said. The servant bowed and left. Then, with a breath, as if to steel herself, she turned back to him. “I’m sorry to cut this short,” she said.
“Let her wait,” he said, “you’re in a relationship with me, remember?” he said, reaching out to catch her chin.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said, averting her gaze and turning her head before he could reach her.
There was a pause, in which it seemed Mai expected Zuko to begin saying his goodbyes. Instead, he gently tilted his head to the side and asked,
“Why do you let her push you around?”
“You’re one to talk,” she muttered.
He blinked at the sudden hostility.
“I am?”
“You sister pushes everyone around. It’s how she is. You’re her brother, and she might be more lenient toward you, but I’m not related to her. I’m just her friend.”
“She’s not lenient to me. What does that even mean?”
“It means I don’t have a choice,” she answered. “You know how she is. If she doesn’t get her way there are consequences.”
He gazed at her cold and hardened expression, surprised.
“Has she done something to you in the past?” he asked.
She turned her gaze up to him, as if the question were one with an obvious answer.
“I’ll talk to her,” he started, but she shook her head.
“Do not.”
“You’re my girlfriend, not her pawn,” he said, “She doesn't get to push you around--”
“So what then? I am to be traded from her hands to yours?”
“What?” he blinked.
“Zuko, don’t protect me. It’ll start a petty war between you two-- like two children fighting over a doll, and I don’t need that right now.”
He stared at her, speechless. The logic was sound, so much so he wondered if Mai already felt the weight of being caught between the two of them.
“You should go,” said Mai. “I’ve kept her waiting long enough. Pei will show you out the back way.”
“What, like I’m some dirty secret?” he asked.
“I don’t want you to make a scene.”
“I won’t make a scene. I don’t make scenes.”
“Zuko…”
“...fine,” he muttered, but took her hand gently in his and kissed it. “You’ll let me know if she ever does anything to you, right?”
She was quiet a moment, but nodded.
“Of course.”
With her mask of indifference firmly in place, Zuko knew the promise to be disingenuous, but he also knew that pressing her for more was useless. So, with a nod, he left her room and found his way to leave through the back of the home.