Chapter Text
“Your future is full of struggle and anguish,” drones an eerily inhuman voice. “Most of it, self-inflicted.”
Startled by the nightmare, Sokka shoots up in bed, gets tangled in the Fire Nation’s over-complicated coverlets, and tumbles onto the floor.
“This is just a coincidence,” he says to himself after a second. “Not a signal or an omen of anything to come.”
He repeats it to himself, rubbing the new bump on his head, until it sounds halfway believable.
/
“You’re early.”
A figure suddenly takes the sun’s place, casting a shadow across the third draft of Sokka’s summit schedule. Startled, Sokka jumps in his seat and splatters ink across the paper.
Time for draft four.
“Oh,” Zuko stammers, “sorry, I didn’t mean to-”
Sokka shoots out of his chair and shuts him up with a giant hug, just barely remembering to put the brush down before he streaks ink all over some fancy Fire Lord robes. Zuko hugs him back just as hard. For a rare moment, they both fall silent and let the warmth do the talking for them.
“Yeah,” Sokka says when he pulls back. He glances around, and the conference room’s still empty, allowing them a few more moments alone. “I try to get places on time. Especially these big diplomatic things.”
He winces, recalling that one time when he was tinkering with a new metal heating device. It was powered by blubber like a traditional oil lamp, but it kept losing heat at an alarming rate, and Sokka started thinking maybe there was a reason the Water Tribe’s oil lamps used soapstone instead of metal, and before he knew it he’d missed a big Northern Water Tribe banquet given in his and Katara’s honor.
“I made my own clock,” Sokka says, flashing the little timepiece fastened by leather to his wrist.
And then there was the time when he missed half of a scheduled audience with King Kuei, because he lost track of time while writing a letter.
(A letter to Zuko.)
“...and I set it to go five minutes fast,” he adds, a little embarrassed. “Just to be safe.”
“Makes sense,” Zuko says, a little embarrassed too, though Sokka can’t imagine why. He pauses with the strangest shy smile. “You’re always clever like that.”
“No,” Sokka says, inexplicably tongue-tied. “No, no, I’m just-”
The door opens as a trio of other officials enter the room. Zuko glances at them, and then gives Sokka an awkward squeeze-pat-thing on the shoulder. “Good to see you again.” He pauses for a second and then adds, “Buddy.”
He sweeps away to the head of the table, transforming instantly from “awkward old friend” to “world-famous Fire Lord.” Sokka’s left in sunlight once again, but somehow the room feels dimmer.
It fills up soon, a crowd of officials streaming in for this diplomatic summit. It’s the world’s largest, since the peace talks that ended the Hundred-Year War. It’s maybe not the grandest since then- Zuko’s the highest-ranking person here by a long shot, and the focus is more on mid-level officials, a mix of governors and mayors and magistrates. Personally, Sokka thinks the summit will be more useful without all the Highnesses and Majesties around to clog things up. These are the people who actually know what’s going on, who have to execute the laws and treaties handed down from on high. It’s a chance to get down and dirty with the details. Sokka’s come fresh from the South Pole with a detailed agenda of his own, and while he doesn’t expect to get everything on the list, he thinks he can shepherd Zuko’s officials generally in the right direction. He's no fortuneteller, but still he predicts Southern Water Tribe and the Fire Nation will come out of this summit with a stronger bond.
Zuko rises before the crowd- dressed in varied shades of red, green and blue- and embarks on a welcome speech. Sokka gapes a little. This is the same guy whose pitch for joining Team Avatar was “I’m good now,” but for some reason his public speaking competence increases with the size of his audience. It’s just not fair.
“You are all honored guests of the Fire Nation. I look forward to working on important diplomatic matters during our days; during our nights, I hope you will find our city hospitable. As our guests, you are welcome to the upcoming festival that you may have heard of...”
Sokka looks up from the fourth draft of the schedule, because he most certainly did not hear about any festivals.
“On the seventh, we celebrate the Star Festival.”
Sokka checks his schedule- he marked the evening of the seventh to catch up on correspondence with the rest of Team Avatar, and if he reassigns that block it’ll have a ripple effect through the prior seven days. He retroactively shouldn’t have stopped for tea this morning.
Here comes draft five.
“You’re welcome to follow local custom,” says Zuko, “and attend with a date.”
A murmur rushes through the crowd. Sokka abandons the schedule, shooting up and casting a casual look around. He’s not the only one; a lot of the younger diplomats are doing the exact same thing. Sokka scans the audience, hoping to see someone he recognizes or-
There’s a young woman in deep green edged in gold. Her hair’s styled high in a qitou, wrapped around a headdress adorned with vibrant fresh flowers. Her eyes sparkle as they meet his.
She smiles at him.
Oh.
Oh.
Sokka breaks away, realizing that there’s an odd silence. Zuko’s broken off, now looking oddly at him.
“Or a friend,” he says, restarting his speech with a little less zeal and shifting his gaze to stare at the wall. “Or you can come alone. That’s great too.”
It doesn’t sound like it’s great, going by the way Zuko’s suddenly drooping. Sokka frowns, because maybe there’s some obscure Fire Nation custom he’s missing here, but then Zuko smoothly transitions to proper diplomatic business. Sokka follows, tracking the conversation and taking meticulous notes and speaking up when he needs to or just when he thinks he can help.
Still, he keeps stealing glances at the mysterious stranger.
/
That night, Sokka shows up five minutes early to a private working dinner with the Fire Lord. It’s a special privilege, and in their pre-summit letters Zuko importuned him to keep it quiet. We have to avoid any appearance of favoritism, Zuko said.
As long as we agree I’m actually your most favorite, Sokka replied, inordinately pleased when Zuko made zero effort to argue otherwise.
Ten minutes later, Zuko rushes in, flushed and breathless like he ran here from his last engagement, his top-knot disheveled in a way that’s weirdly endearing.
“Sorry I’m late.”
“No worries,” Sokka says through a mouthful of truly excellent tuna-eel sashimi. He swallows. “Sorry I started without you.”
Zuko snorts. “I could never stand between you and true love.”
Sokka gestures at the tray laid out for their meal. A tray that’s strikingly meat-heavy, even for a Fire Nation dinner. There’s bacon on the rice.
“Did you order meat for every dish?”
“I…” Trailing off, Zuko decides to sit down as he regroups. “I remember you liked meat, so I thought maybe having a lot of meat would make it feel more like home?”
Sokka takes a giant bite of a seaweed-wrapped rice block, chomping right through to the salted fish center. As he moans in pleasure, his eyes roll back in his head.
“Best. Diplomat. Ever.”
Zuko takes a rice block of his own, shaking his head with a smile. “No, I’m pretty sure that’s you. How many pages of notes did you take today?”
“Twenty-three point four!”
“Exactly,” Zuko says. “Though...I’m wondering how much of that was love poems.”
Sokka sputters, choking on cloud-crowberry tea. “You noticed?”
“I think the entire palace noticed,” he comments, looking down with a little unhappy frown. Sokka doesn’t take it personally- Zuko said it himself, he’s never happy.
“Sunmi’s wonderful, isn’t she?” Sokka says, offering him a sly smile.
Zuko doesn’t return it.
“Mayor Li has a reputation for competence,” is all he says. “She’s best known for introducing a new library organization system in her colony.”
Sighing dreamily, Sokka forgets to put anything in his mouth for a full twenty seconds. “That makes her twice as sexy, honestly.”
“Of course it does.”
Now he’s scowling, but Sokka interprets that as his trademark deadpan humor.
“So,” Zuko ventures after a moment, “what happens next for you two?”
“Well…” Sokka blissfully recalls some advice he bestowed on Aang, because sometimes even one-hundred-year-old Avatars need advice from the real masters. Aang gave up on implementing it, probably because it was in Aunt Wu’s town and they got distracted by exploding volcanoes, but it’s still a solid game plan. “I gotta keep her interested, which means playing hard to get. Can’t be too easy-“
“You’re not easy!” Zuko protests.
“I know that,” he says with a laugh. “But predictability is the biggest downfall of nice guys.”
Zuko puts down his chopsticks to contemplate this wisdom. He seems oddly taken with it.
“Does that really work?” he asks, one eye wide with awe.
“Sure, it works!” He’s never actually seen it work, but in theory it makes perfect sense. When the silence stretches too long, Sokka adds, “We gotta keep them guessing.”
“We?” He frowns, like he’s surprised at being termed a “nice guy.”
“Yeah, ‘we,’” Sokka says. “You cuddle turtleducks in your spare time! Can’t get sweeter than that.”
A knock at the door interrupts Zuko’s sputtering. “Your Majesty? The last diplomat has arrived.”
He looks up at his servant, one of the hundreds who must now hang on his every word. “Have you-“
“We cleaned her room eight times.”
“And did you-“
“We removed all mirrors within sight of the bed.”
“And don’t forget-“
“We laid out lucky pineapple slices in a perfect fan shape, as requested.”
Sokka whips his head back and forth between them.
Then he snorts. “Who does this lady think she is?”
“A well-respected leader,” Zuko replies, “from Makapu Village.” He turns his attention to the servant, still fidgeting oddly on the threshold. “Is there something else?”
“...she requests that you greet her personally in the courtyard, since it’s auspicious timing.”
Sokka’s jaw falls open.
That’s ridiculous. That’s patently ridiculous. Short of maybe Aang, maybe Katara or Toph or maybe him, nobody gets to order the Fire Lord away from his dinner like that. Sokka rolls his eyes and waits for Zuko to send the servant packing…
“Well, if she thinks it’s important.” Setting aside a fried pig-chicken chop that’s tragically half-eaten, he rises to his feet.
“Zuko!” Sokka protests in shock. And maybe he’s in no position to ask the Fire Lord to ignore what might be an important diplomatic obligation, but it’s surprising to lose Zuko like this, okay? It just doesn’t feel right.
“I’ll have to see you tomorrow,” Zuko tells him, straightening out the wrinkles in his robes. “I have other obligations, and I don’t devote all my spare energy to just one ambassador.”
He’s weirdly stilted as he says it, like it’s a lie, and as he departs Sokka can’t help feeling like he screwed up somewhere. He doesn’t know where. None of this makes any sense, especially the little self-satisfied smirk Zuko wears as he sweeps out the door to greet some lady Sokka’s never heard of-
Wait.
Makapu Village. Auspicious timings. Lucky pineapple slices.
Sokka gapes, suddenly reminded of the morning’s nightmare, even as he processes the fact that Zuko ditched him for Aunt Wu.
/
So Sokka’s dealt with a lot of ruffians and villains in his time. He faced Zuko down back in his shouty stage, he got dragged around a moonlit forest by Hama, and there was that entire war against Ex-Fire Lord Ozai to consider.
But Sokka has a special hole reserved at the bottom of his heart, seething with his deepest rage and resentment, just for Aunt Wu.
She’s a fortune-teller, if you ask her or Aang or any of the people of Makapu Village, whose brains are clearly addled by volcanic gas. In Sokka’s book, she’s a fraud of the lowest class. She convinced her followers to trust her cloud-reading skills to predict a volcano. They nearly all burned to death!
And now she’s got a Fire Lord in her clutches.
The whole palace is abuzz about her arrival. Aunt Wu missed the start of the conference because the clouds said traveling on time was “lethally dangerous.” Instead she sat around at home and set out late, presumably after a fluffy bunny cloud gave her permission.
“And then she got here, perfectly safe,” Sunmi murmurs to Sokka in their stolen moments before the next morning’s meeting. Sokka got here early, but he’s hanging around outside, getting to know the new love of his life, instead of going in where Zuko is. One ambassador shouldn’t monopolize the Fire Lord, after all.
“That’s...good.” It is. Sokka doesn’t wish lethal danger on anyone, no matter how personally irritating they might be.
“Yeah,” Sunmi remarks, “just proves her predictions are spot-on.”
“Totally…” A second later, Sokka tears his thoughts away from her sparkly eyes and processes what she’s just said. “Wait, what?”
At that second, the doors open to officially welcome them, and Zuko offers a special smile just for Sokka, stealing the words right out of his mouth. Sokka bursts forward, newly desperate to get at least a few words in edgewise before the court claims him for the day, but nope, Zuko engages someone, probably the Undersecretary of Overdramatic Department Names, in conversation before he gets too close.
Almost like he’s playing hard-to-get…
With a stern shake of his head, Sokka disabuses himself of the idea and sets up his personal ambassador station, with a hundred fresh sheets of paper and several full ink pots and a back-up brush in case he stabs the first one too hard in exasperation. He pours a nice pool of ink into his dish and unrolls his newest draft of his schedule, calmly not thinking about the prediction Aunt Wu made about him a few years back. There was no palm reading for him, no grand portent in the sky, nope. She just took one look at his face and declared his life would be full of “struggle and anguish.”
Mostly self-inflicted.
Which is nonsense, because his life’s peachy right now. He’s sitting right next to his future wife- who’s a little too trusting of a scummy scammer of a “fortune-teller,” but hey, so is the literal Avatar. He’s in the Fire Nation royal palace, representing his tribe, and though he misses home and ice and air that doesn’t glue his shirt to his chest, Sokka can appreciate this. And Zuko smiled at him, even though he’s been weird and flaky and cool in a way that just doesn’t fit him, almost like he’s purposefully avoiding Sokka. But obviously he isn’t, so Sokka’s life is perfect right now. Not a struggle in sight. Certainly no “self-inflicted anguish.”
“Sokka of the Water Tribe-” Aunt Wu appears in the flesh behind him, looking down with that kindly smile that hides a world of deceit- “I guessed I’d see your face again.”
Fuming, Sokka slams down his brush, miscalculates, and overturns his inkwell all over his newest schedule.
/
“I‘ll see you tonight,” Sokka tells Sunmi.
Compelled by some strange urge to talk to Zuko, Sokka stays behind as she leaves. He wants to check in with Zuko, even though he doesn’t have anything specific to say.
But just as he gets close, Aunt Wu sweeps down on them.
“Your Majesty,” she simpers, “have you come to your decision?”
“It’s very kind of you to offer me a palm reading,” Zuko says before hesitating, and Sokka’s jaw drops at her presumption. “I’ve decided...I’d prefer to leave my future a mystery at this time.”
Sokka nearly does a fist pump to celebrate.
For her part, Aunt Wu looks a little downcast, almost like she couldn’t see this coming. One point for Zuko’s unpredictability.
She recovers though, adding, “I understand entirely. But allow me to at least say that your future is not as grim as you think. There is unexpected joy awaiting you at the next bend in your path.”
She glides away, looking impossibly pleased with herself, and Sokka scowls. It’s great that Zuko didn’t buy into her little mind games, but his reasoning sounds a tad bit wonky.
“Hey,” Sokka pipes up once everyone else clears the room, “just to check, you didn’t turn her down because you were scared, right?”
“Well…”
He bursts out sputtering. “You should turn her down because fortunetelling is totally fake. There’s no set future controlling us!”
Zuko glares at him, the sort of look that was very intimidating, oh, about two years ago and now just makes him look like a squalling tiger-kitten. “Aang has visions of the future all the time.”
“That’s different-“
“Your girlfriend turned into the moon!”
“That was one time-“
“Wasn’t it her destiny from birth to turn into the moon?”
“But-“
“I’m just saying,” Zuko says, railroading right over him. “I think destiny’s got a hand in our lives. We’re both in this room overseeing an era of peace. You and me, together. Are you honestly saying it doesn’t feel a little like fate?”
Sokka reaches for a smart-aleck retort. All he gets is an inconvenient tenderness, clogging up his throat.
“I heard you’re going to see the Silver Dragon Players tonight, with Sunmi,” Zuko murmurs, changing the topic. He’s looking down at his own notes, but he kindly picks up the conversation when it’s clear Sokka can’t.
“Yeah…that’s not a problem for you, is it?”
Zuko looks up sharply. “Why would you think that?”
“Well, you know. I represent one place, Sunmi represents a different place, maybe there’s a conflict of interest?”
There’s a pause.
“That’s not an issue,” Zuko answers quietly. “At least not by Fire Nation standards. If you’re transparent and you file the right papers, we can respect separate personal and professional relationships. There’s…”
“What?”
“There’s a certain appreciation for that sort of thing, actually. Love across national lines? It reminds people that under the different-colored clothes we’re all the same.”
He makes this declaration so wistfully, so romantically, that it takes Sokka by surprise. And Zuko did listen rather closely to Sokka’s dating advice the other day, almost like…
“Holy pig-cow, you’re into one of the girls here.”
“Sokka.“
“Look, if it’s Sunmi I can back off right now, you can have the tickets-“
“Sokka!”
“Yes?” Sokka breaks off, a little breathless.
“I’m not in love with any girl right now.”
He frowns, because there’s something tricky in how Zuko says that. Some subtle nuance that’s flying over his head. “You sure?”
Zuko nods, resolute. He still manages to look like he’s in pain.
“...Okay, then.” Sokka shrugs.
“Enjoy the show.” Zuko once again starts rifling through his paperwork.
As Sokka leaves, he inexplicably finds himself thinking about the last deadfall trap he made back in the South Pole. He spent hours rigging up the rope and the branches, measuring the angles and choosing the best boulders. At the last second, as a delicious cheetah-seal waddled right into sight, Sokka misstepped, triggered the trap, and dropped the boulder onto his own foot.
He keeps thinking about that, even though that mishap that nobody ever needs to talk about again has nothing to do with his conversation with Zuko.
Silly subconscious.
/
That night, Sokka bids Sunmi good-bye and leaves her at the door to her room, taking his own advice to play it cool. As he leaves, he’s walking on air. The play was gorgeous. Now, admittedly he didn’t hear much of it, because Sunmi kept whispering her critiques in his ear, but that’s okay- he appreciates that sort of rigorous intellectual engagement with the arts. And technically most of her points were wrong, or at least unfair, because she kept judging the play like it was noh and complaining about the raunchy jokes, but it was more kabuki-style, so actually the jokes were a plus. But Sokka wouldn’t have known about that genre distinction if not for Zuko. Zuko, who’s a veritable encyclopedia on all things theatrical, whose head shoots up when anyone mentions drama, hands dancing, golden eyes sparkling like stars...
Anyway.
Sokka practically floats into one of the palace gardens. He has no worries. No fears. Nothing could possibly bring him back down to earth-
Except Aunt Wu, sitting with a scroll on a bench, tossing him a knowing smile as he enters.
She did not know he was going to be here. No how, no way.
“Ambassador,” she calls, gesturing at a nearby seat, “you’re right on time. May I have a word?”
Out of diplomatic obligation, Sokka trudges over to her and sits, his good mood abandoned.
“It’s illuminating,” she declares, “watching the stars from Caldera instead of my humble village. The constellations dance so differently here, because this place has such a different sort of destiny.”
“That’s not why the stars look different...“ Sokka gives up his protest with a sigh. “Never mind.”
Her eyes twinkle merrily. “I’m sure you remember what I last predicted, about your fate.”
“What?” Sokka splutters. “Nope, no, I don’t remember a thing.”
She raises an eyebrow but doesn’t call him on his bluff. “I stand by my prior predictions. Still, the world has entered a happier era, and I believe you have too. In fact…” Her gaze darts up to the stars and back to Sokka. “Good fortune is upon you! A fresh new romance.”
He stares at Aunt Wu, unimpressed.
Completely oblivious to his disdain, she carries on monologuing. “The Star Festival heralds a change in your heart. Oh, you have never known such warmth and passion as you will this night. On the seventh, all the past twists of your fate will lead you to a kiss with a great love of your life, who shall stay in your soul forevermore!”
The speech crescendoes to a grand peak, and she stops, bosom heaving, waiting like a prima donna for applause.
“Fine,” Sokka says dryly. “I’m going to bed.”
He keeps his walk nonchalant until he’s out of her sight, and he then allows himself a little stomping. Who does she think she is? She might have everyone else fooled, but Sokka’s a rationalist. He sees right through her airs and her lies. According to Zuko, the entire palace has heard about Sunmi and Sokka. According to both Zuko’s speech and Sokka’s reading, the Star Festival is a holiday devoted entirely to love. The whole point is romance, and dating, and grand dramatic gestures. Anyone with sense can guess that Sokka’s going to ask Sunmi to the festival and steal a couple kisses.
(And a lot more, if he’s lucky.)
As he crosses the threshold of his own suite- and that’s funny, Zuko definitely gave him a full five-room suite right by the royal wing while everyone else has just a bedroom with an adjoining bath- a brilliant thought strikes. Aunt Wu just boxed herself in with the most specific prediction Sokka’s ever heard her give. That means he’s got a real shot at disproving her. It’s not for his own sake- he doesn’t believe her even a little, she’s just been getting lucky with vague wording and creepy coincidences. But Aunt Wu’s got her fishhooks in Katara, and Aang, and maybe now the Fire Lord himself, so Sokka needs to step up and debunk her claims once and for all.
He just needs to guarantee that the Star Festival’s not the most romantic night of his life. He needs to make it the least romantic night of his life. That means he can’t go with Sunmi, who he’s been planning on inviting since their eyes first met. He can’t even go alone, because then he’ll be at risk of meeting another eligible young single and falling into the trap of a conventional love story. No, he needs to go with the least eligible person he can find, someone who’ll stick by him in the most friend-like and least date-like manner imaginable, someone who would never in a million years want to kiss him.
He needs to go with Zuko.