Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

She has escaped. Please help. I don’t know what to do.

Regards,

Fire Lord Zuko II

Three sentences that echoed out through every crevice of the world. Shot out from the fire nation, rippling to the air temples, Kyoshi island, all the way to Ba Sing Se. A cry heard in every nation.

Three sentences for three years of silence. Three years of drift. And like a magnet, it shocked them back together, all at once as if nothing had changed. Yet the differences were palpable. It came with familiar faces flooding into a palace with open arms, ignoring the stifled breath of an over-extended child monarch.

“I cannot stay here,” the young lord had said, clutching the shoulder of an earth kingdom girl, forehead pressed into black hair.

“We’re coming with you,” she had said, with all the bravery of a stubborn fourteen-year-old. She had been honest, she always was. The fire lord could always trust that from her, no matter how much the years changed them.

They did come with him. He couldn’t do it alone, and they would never expect him to.

And so, as if relighting an ashen mantel, they embarked once again, onto one last mission.

They did not ride far before their flying bison began to waver in the air. One way from the southern air temple, straight to the fire nation had already been enough, and then almost immediately remarking on a much longer, much more extensive journey.

They hadn’t even made it out past Roku’s island before they found themselves faltering, heavy-lidded in desperate need of rest.

“Just like the good old days,” Aang had said, leaping off the bison with two stacks of sleeping gear.

Zuko, falling into the muscle memory routine, lid down the side of the bison, already collecting the timber he could find on their patch of ground, building a small mound before lighting it.

It was strange. No one needed direction. Everyone knew their place. Aang lifting the luggage off Appa, allowing for Suki and Sokka to unpack and set up while Katara went about setting out the packaged food they had stored. Toph sitting idly by on her own mound of stone, watching it all happen.

“Do we have any idea where she’s headed?” Asked Toph, leaning back, both hands folded behind her head.

“She’s not stupid enough to stay in the fire nation. And she’d stick out like a sore thumb in the water tribes. My guess? Earth kingdom,” It was Sokka talking. Talking like he’d spent a long time thinking about this. Like he’d thought about this with real passion. Like it meant more than just helping a friend. Maybe it was more. Sokka was the most in danger out of all of them. Zuko would be her target, yes, but he could hold her own against her. Not only that, but he had proved to her the lengths he would go to defend those he loved from her. Sokka would be her bull's eyes. But Zuko refused to let himself think about that. It made him sick, it made the flame warming in his palm spark and flicker too wildly.

Soon, bowls of stoup were passed around, bodies begun to huddle around Zuko’s merger fire, holding the liquid close to their chests.

“Is it weird that I’ve missed this,” said Aang, flinging a gangly arm around Katara’s shoulder to cuddle her closer to him. It sent a ripple of green though Zuko that he rose to pointedly ignore.

“I haven’t,” said Sokka with a boyish grunt, folding his arms in front of his chest, “Nothing will very beat the palace chief’s Komodo chicken soup. It’s the only reason I hang around there.” He snorted at his own humor, reaching out to Zuko who sat beside him, to ruffle his loose hair, now tangled and resting at his shoulder. Reflexively, Zuko flinched away from the touch, shifting closer to the fire and out of Sokka’s grasp. Sokka chose to ignore that. Accustomed to jutted touches and sharp escapes of contact in the presence of others. There were many things Sokka chose to ignore. How Zuko insisted on packing a separate tent for himself, despite knowing he would share with Sokka anyway. He would never start there though, he would faint subtlety before crawling into Sokka’s in the dead of night. How Sokka was never to be regarded in the same context as Zuko, to escape the risk of any poor insinuation. How there was always a palpable distance set, a cold and hash proximity.

It wasn’t like it was a secret. Everyone who mattered knew what they meant to each other. It was just improper to talk about. Zuko trusted his councilmen, however, they also did have a full legal precedent right to de-throne him if he was seen to be violating the constitution. Zuko had witnessed far too many public incinerations in his youth to wish that upon anyone, let alone his Sokka.

So no, no matter how much he loved and trusted his friends, they would not talk about it. It was an unspoken truth. Zuko and Sokka loved each other, though no one other than Toph would be able to see it.

That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. That didn’t change how Zuko’s blood boiled whenever he saw Katara and Aang flaunting their love. How a piece of his heart shattered, reminding him how he and Sokka could never have that peace. He was the most powerful man in the world, and yet, he was bound by a few stupid words on a stupid piece of paper.

Yet, coming out of a haze of brooding ambiance, he found Sokka grinning at him. He was allowed this. They could look. They could smile. And Sokka’s smile— spirits— Sokka’s smile was life itself. It was so soft. Gentle. Warm. Too forgiving. Sokka’s smile made it all so worth it. The slight of lips, the wide, blue eyes. Like dipping into a sun-warmed fountain.

And then he thought about that smile set ablaze by lightning. She wouldn’t even need to raise a finger. Spread enough rumors, enough truths, and Zuko’s worst fears would come alive. The nightmares he’d had since he turned eleven and he saw a man dressed in fire, tied to a post, screaming, proclaiming his love a lie.

He knew how it would happen too.

It would begin with his de-throning, a possible forced abdication. Then the demotion of Sokka, relinquishing him of diplomatic immunity. And then, like that, they would sentence him. And Sokka would die screaming like that man Zuko had seen when he was eleven, all with the distant laughs of his sister on the throne, commanding it all, bathing in hypocrisy.

He stared helplessly as Aang leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to Katara’s forehead wishing her a goodnight. One by one, they retired to their tents. Dazed in the anticipation of adventure. Until it was just Sokka and Zuko left, side by side, watching the fire die.

Silently, he heard Sokka stand, setting up Zuko’s un-used canvas tent, laying down a virgin cot, and zipping it up. It would not be used. It had never been. But it gave Zuko an inch of peace, even if it was stupid.

“Come to bed,” said Sokka, lithe hand hovering in front of him. “Please, sweetheart, you’re so tired.”

Still, Zuko found himself immobile. Even as Zuko crouched down, wrapping his strong arms around him to lift his body close to his chest, carrying him over to Sokka’s larger, unzipped tent.

Once Zuko was safely protected from the night, tucked tightly into the sheets, slotted carefully, his face pressed to Sokka’s collar, brown hands running through long black hair.

“You don’t have to be like that if you don’t want to, baby,” Sokka whispered into his hair.

“You’re not worth the risk,” Zuko mumbled, “especially now. I need you too much”

“Shh, Koorta, I love you and I’m here.”

Chapter Text

Sokka did not regularly wake before Zuko. It had become a habit to him. Zuko’s sun drunken lips pressed to his in the pale blue hours of the morning. He never left before Sokka was awake enough to say goodbye. What they shared was too ephemeral for them to waste any moment together. Waking in the tent however, he found Zuko, fast asleep pressed against his chest. Snoring sweetly, nuzzled into Sokka’s body, as if he was the one who radiated warmth.

Zuko deserved the rest. Sokka was unsure if he had slept at all since the guards burst into their Zuko’s royal chambers warning them of the escape, four days ago. He was careful not to wake him when he moved to sit up. Gently placing Zuko’s crown into the cot, rearranging the loose strands of hair out of his face. He was a sight. So placid. So carefree. Sokka wished Zuko could always be like this. Dazed in the perfected structure of surrealism. Fire nation mornings were always cold, even as he brushed out of his tent to find dew littering the red dirt. They held no candle to the south pole, yet Sokka’s acclimation to fire nation warmth always left him frazzled in these frozen mornings.

The only person besides he who was awake was Suki. Not by nature, but instead, her warrior training forced her up at these obtuse hours. She was prodding the steaming pile of twigs with a Largs stick, in some hope she would immaculately gain fire bending. She had a metal bin on her hip, empty, but the message went straight to Sokka’s already rumbling stomach.

Suki perked up, at his exit, however, excitement dissipating when she saw him.

“He’s not up yet?” She groaned, slipping the pot to the dirt with a thunk. She shivered for a moment, teasing her hands over her bare arms to emphasize her issue.

“Out cold,” Said Sokka, slotting down beside her, facing the deceased campfire.

“How’s he doing?” She asks, not in the way a friend asks about another friend. Suki had never understood Zuko’s rules. She had been worse than Aang when he had pulled them aside and told them they had to pretend it wasn’t happening. Aang came from a different time. And yet he still seemed to grasp why they played this game of pretend. Suki on the other hand, was blunt to it. She was a Kyoshi warrior, it was part of her creed. She would never marry a man, that was expected. And yet, a woman was allowed. Sokka envied that, but never brought it up around Zuko.

“As expected. He’s scared. I think in his mind he already knows how this is going to end.”

“He doesn’t seem well,” she said quietly, prodding the fire again.

Sokka pursed his lips, forgetting how long three years really was. “He hasn’t been well in a long time.”

Suki turned to him at that, her ginger brow quirking up, “Because of her?”

Sokka shook his head and forced his eyes away from her. It felt wrong to be talking about Zuko with anyone. Yet he knew Suki. He knew Suki like he knew himself.

“Because of me, I think.”

“Why.”

“He’s a child ruling the most powerful nation in the world. He thinks he’s walking a tightrope with every action. And maybe he is. He can’t risk mistakes. And I think, I might be his worst mistake,” he said it factually, almost fondly. As if it were gospel.

“Why?” She pressed again.

“Mai offered to marry him,” he said as if that all made perfect sense. It didn’t but he trusted Suki’s mind enough to connect the dots. He remembered the night Zuko had told him what Mai had offered, he had remembered Zuko’s stoic face of genuine consideration. If he were married he would be excused to have the occasional proclivity with a squire or a servant boy. Yet he declined to continue his far too public affair with his closest ambassador.

What he had said hung heavy in the air. Suffocating. He’d never told anyone that before. He had never told anyone anything about he and Zuko before, let alone that Zuko had willingly accepted his closeted fate in order or a fleeting moment with Sokka.

He left Suki after that. Taking his coolamon with him as he went through bushes and succulent trees in search of berries of fruit for the road. By the time the wooden tray was full, as was the camp. The fire was roaring to life, meaning Aang or Zuko were awake, despite the high sun no longer warranting the flame.

Everyone was busying themselves: dressing, cooking, bending rocks at Aang. It all felt too juvenile. Like everyone had suddenly forgot the severity of what they were doing. And then there was Zuko, sitting beside Toph as she threw another pebble over at Aang as he stirred a pot of soup. He wasn’t smiling. But the last of the furrowed brow meant he was not currently thinking about what his sister may do to them all.

By mid-afternoon they had official plans. Start by following some leads in the south of Tu Zin, where some Ozai Supporters had fled to after Zuko’s ascension, if that comes up dry, reconsider options about Azula in the fire nation.

He tried to spend as much time as he could with Katara, though he spoke to her most out of the others, writing every other week, he still could feel how much she had changed since he had last seen her. She was a woman now. No longer a headstrong little girl. She was tactful now, stoic. Nodding and listening quietly without objection. Sokka wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

She was a stark opposite to Suki. Not only did she ignore the existence of Zuko and his relationship, but part of her seemed to be ignoring Zuko all together. It wasn’t unwarranted or driven by bigotry. She was doing exactly as she had been told. And yet, that prying motherly side to her seemed almost dead. He didn’t want to talk about him and Zuko because Zuko didn’t want to, but at the same time, she was his sister. He wanted to be able to talk to her about it if he wanted. He wanted to tell her how he hated being the worst kept secret in the fire nation, to tell her about his new nickname among the other councilors as ‘the concubine’, he wanted to ask her how to fix Zuko. How to stop him from fearing everything he did, second guessing every answer. He wanted to know what it felt like to be in love like she and Aang were. What it felt like to not have to think before every action. Who is looking? Do they know? Is this allowed? Will Zuko be okay? What is going to happen when enough people find out?

The worst part about it was how stupid it all was. Three generations ago he and Zuko could be married, and no one would have batted an eye, Aang had told them. It had been Zuko’s own great grandfather that had added the indecency clause to the constitution. Sokka wanted to ask Zuko why, but he knew Zuko didn’t like to think about their situation.

In the palace it had been different, it was their home. They didn’t have to hide. Servants and guards were too low rank to be an issue. But here, surrounded by family. How was Sokka not supposed to talk about the person that made him feel alive? To act as if he and Zuko were just really good mates who happened to share a tent?

He knew Toph was a different story. She was a human lie detector who could hear and see everything. But Toph was Zuko’s safe person. As much as Zuko loved his uncle, he knew Zuko didn’t often like to talk about his relationships with him. Toph couldn’t be fooled. She already knew everything. Sokka wasn’t going to take that from Zuko. We wouldn’t dare. The thought wouldn’t even cross his mind.

Sokka was the talker. He couldn’t shut up about things he liked. Meat, sarcasm, and boomerangs. And he more than liked Zuko. He loved Zuko. And yet. He couldn’t say a word to anyone about it without feeling like he was betraying Zuko’s trust. But he couldn’t help himself, the night, when they all scampered back onto Appa, Sokka pressed himself right beside Zuko, reached out, and squeezed his hand before lifting it to his lips and pressing a chase kiss to his knuckles.