Archive of Our Own

Fire Nation Imperial Palace

Evening

Prince Lu Ten was deeply troubled. 

He was seated in the palace library, a small stack of books lying on the lacquered table next to him, the topmost one bookmarked carefully. Research material of sorts, the young man had been doing some reading on Earth Kingdom culture since before he’d returned to the capital, a conquered city in his father’s wake. He felt he needed to know more about their new territory in order to effectively contribute to their future inclusion to the Nation. 

But everything was wrong when he came back, and he could hardly focus on his work. 

His uncle, aunt-in-law, and cousins were missing from the palace, and a good chunk of their personal effects were gone as well. There was a tense, quiet air present all throughout the guards. Something very bad had obviously happened before he and father returned home from Ba Sing Se. Something dramatic that caused half his family to drop off the face of the world. 

Even grandfather hadn’t given Lu Ten a full answer. But he’d muttered some cryptic words about how “Ozai had overstepped his bounds.” 

That was...more than a little evasive.

It had been quite some time since Lu Ten actually had a meaningful interaction with his uncle. When he was younger, they’d had a formal and awkward, yet not unpleasant relationship; at the very least, Ozai seemed much more forthcoming with Lu Ten than he did with Iroh. In the past, when Lu Ten first entered the Academy, they did a fair share of sparring, and Ozai’s energy made the sessions interesting and unique. Lu Ten learned some from him when his own young age and his father’s constantly busy military schedule forced them to be separated. 

But then as time passed he got too strong, too zealous, and too intense to be a decent training partner. The teenage Prince felt the need to back off after that, but from all that he’d heard and observed, the older man’s skill only continued to grow by leaps and bounds. 

In reality, he’d always held more fondness for his cousins, though they didn’t get very many opportunities to interact. And now they were simply gone. 

And on top of that, even with Ba Sing Se conquered, Lu Ten was saddled with a new problem. One that came to him from his father sitting at his side with a sheaf of reports in his hands. 

“How about her?” Crown Prince Iroh pressed, handing to his son a portrait of a young lady. 

She was a high-ranking member of the Earth Kingdom nobility with a storied family line and ownership over a large swath of land. She possessed long, silken hair tied into an elaborate bun and dressed in a pale green dress. Though far from the first example of such, he could acknowledge this woman was elegant and incredibly beautiful, with a calm demeanor. 

Lu Ten wasn’t interested at all. 

He simply shook his head at the portrait, just as he had done many times before, and his father sighed as he added another picture to the pile of rejects. Part of his curtness may have been stress; he wasn’t even eighteen, he didn’t need this. But Lu Ten knew his father meant well. 

“I know this isn’t a pleasant task,” Iroh said, humming thoughtfully as he rearranged the dismissed pile they’d accumulated. “Normally I would have waited a quite bit longer before pushing this kind of decision on you, son. But now that my brother has up and absconded with half the family, the Fire Lord is putting on the pressure to decide on your future marriage.” In reality, such events would take place years in the future, but high society–especially royalty–planned things long in advance. Though grandfather’s rush may have an effect.

In a distant, objective kind of way, Lu Ten could understand the logic behind it. Ozai wasn’t directly involved in the war, but his influence grew along with his firebending prowess, and Lady Ursa was well-entrenched in the intricacies of the nobility. Along with their children, losing that half of the family had drastically cut many of the royal family’s delicate connections. Even with the poor relationship and lack of communication between his uncle and grandfather, Lu Ten knew that Ozai’s sudden disappearance could still cause problems for the Fire Lord’s plans. 

So he must be planning to make up for that loss by having Lu Ten marry an influential noblewoman to renew some ties. With their newly established control over Ba Sing Se, an Earth Kingdom woman would work well for further establishing their foothold there. Of course, arranged marriages were never immediate things, and the royal family liked to have their arrangements known down to the last individual detail so everything went according to plan, but Lu Ten knew that the mere engagement held a political power that was all its own. 

Problem was, he was less than interested in any one of them. 

He knew this day would come sooner or later, and in many ways, Lu Ten tried to prepare himself for the possibility of entering a marriage he knew wouldn’t appeal to him, but it still gnawed at him. His father had been blessed enough to be arranged to a woman he cared for, and even Ozai had gotten lucky to an extent as well. Lu Ten was left holding the short stick. 

Not to mention that he believed that their situations were a bit different from his. 

And though he refused, again and again, Lu Ten knew that sooner or later something would have to give and force him to make a more concrete decision. 

What he wasn’t expecting to happen was for his father to cut to the core of the problem. “Oh! Perhaps I’ve been going about this all wrong,” Prince Iroh said with a sigh, and Lu Ten looked over at him curiously. “I happen to recall that little incident in the palace kitchen a while back. Maybe that tryst had a bit more weight to it than I thought.”

Lu Ten looked away in embarrassment. The ‘tryst’ he was referring to was the one where the young Prince had engaged in inappropriate behavior with the assistant cook behind closed doors–until his father and grandfather found out about it that is. There wasn’t anything particularly noteworthy about Wan Su’s bloodline, which was mostly why the Fire Lord had such an inflamed reaction to it (he had tersely informed Lu Ten that he was lucky Wan was a boy, for if he’d gotten a lower class girl pregnant, there would be ‘consequences’). As it was, Lu Ten was let off with a warning against fraternizing with the commoners, whereas Wan was quickly kicked out of the palace. 

It was later, with the intent of giving Wan an apology for losing his job, Lu Ten realized he had no idea where the other boy lived, and never managed to see him again. 

In reality, that wasn’t the only time in which Lu Ten had engaged in such trysts, but it was the only one where he was clumsy enough to be caught. Or clumsy enough to get the other party punished for his actions. It would have been smarter for him to have stopped a long time ago, but the knowledge that he would one day be set up to marry a woman who would probably end up hating him to continue the family line had Lu Ten back up to the same old stunts. 

“Am I wrong?” His father pressed, tucking the pictures back into the pouch he’d drawn them from, choosing instead to face Lu Ten head on. “If that young man was really so close to you…”

Lu Ten had to cut off that thought before it went any further. “Father, no. That’s...that’s not it. We weren’t ‘in love,’ or anything of the sort. It was more of…” He stopped, trying to put his thoughts to words that wouldn’t sound absolutely awful. There really wasn’t a non-coarse way to say that he had friends-with-benefits (or that Wan wasn’t the only one). Lu Ten ended up trying to explain it away in the vaguest way possible, “We had a mutual arrangement.”

Iroh sighed, and it seemed like he saw through to the heart of the matter. Father was always sharp like that. "Youthful energy then," He concluded, and his son couldn't bring himself to disagree. Lu Ten was embarrassed to admit it even to himself, but the truth was that he did inherit his father's infamous libido, if not his specific tastes. "Be that as it may, you do need to consider your position. Especially if–as I suspect–your reasoning for rejecting all these beautiful ladies has to do with the fact that they are, after all, ladies."

And there it was. He was exposed. "Father, I'm sorry," The young Prince, shamefaced. 

"Lu Ten, I'm not angry with you," Iroh was quick to smooth things over, laying a hand on his shoulder. "You're certainly not the first member of royalty to indulge primarily in nontraditional relationships and you won't be the last. What this means for us however, is that we'll have to think carefully about how to get a marriage you can be happy with, while also keeping the Fire Lord satisfied." Easier said than done of course. Azulon was known for being very exacting. 

"Grandfather will be so disappointed with me," My Ten murmured. "Wan was one thing, but this marriage… He had all of these plans…”

Iroh managed a pained smile, "My father's concern has always been–first and foremost–the preservation of the royal line. I promise you that he came down on me pretty hard for not settling on a lady until your mother came along.” 

Mother… Lu Ten had some precious memories of her in the past, but the woman had passed away when he was still a young boy. The birth was too rough on her, exacerbating the illness she already had beforehand. He had long since been able to shoulder the weight of that loss. And his father was more than able to help him come to terms with her death, as he went through something very similar through the loss of his own mother. 

At the very least, Lu Ten had his collection of memories of her to keep close when he was feeling particularly low. And he was grateful to have them. He could’ve been trapped in the same boat as his uncle, who wasn’t nearly so lucky. 

Lu Ten wondered how his mother had felt about the arrangement between her and father. She loved him, he knew that. But what about before then? How had she dealt with it?

“So, how do we go about satisfying him?” Lu Ten thought, his eyes listlessly sweeping across the covers of the books laid next to him. “I don’t wish to marry someone I don't–can't–care for. And that’s for their sake as well.” And he didn’t want to get tempted to sneak out to meet with a “friend” of his anymore; that bad habit couldn’t continue to exist for a married man. He knew, on some level, that there were many loopholes and anyone in authority would look the other way if he did continue. But the scandal was far too dishonorable for Lu Ten's pride to take.

And even if his bride were the rare type that wouldn't care, Lu Ten still felt it would be unfair to them as well. 

His father began gathering all of the rejected portraits together and putting them away, his expression thoughtful. “As I said, my father’s priorities do lie with the royal line continuing. As long as that concern can be dealt with, there may still be a possibility. I suppose the next step is determining how comfortable you would be having a surrogate.”

Lu Ten frowned, then looked away, “To keep grandfather happy? Well, I wouldn't be excited about it, but I'd do it. It's what's needed, right?" 

"Then I believe I'll be able to convince my father to let you have your way. I've usually been able to bend his ear with the right amount of persuasion." The look of satisfaction on the Crown Prince's face in response calmed his son's nerves only somewhat. "I can try to assemble a list of potentials after I get his approval, if that's alright with you…"

"I'd appreciate that, father," Lu Ten acquiesced quietly, knowing that even his father's actions couldn't make his choice completely free. A commoner, for instance, would be disqualified by default. And he knew that the potential pool was also restricted to partners who'd be younger than him; the pride of the Fire Lord's Royal Family demanded nothing less. Even in the best-case scenario, his options would remain limited. 

As it was, still better than the alternative.

Iroh parted ways with his son and had a message sent to the temporary governor he had installed in Ba Sing Se. His words were brief and to the point: to have an extensive list sent to him of all the noble Earth Kingdom sons still located in the city. However, if his memory was correct, many of them would be too old to serve as viable partners, and that was without taking into account how many nobles lost their lives during the siege. 

Their numbers would certainly be lacking for some time. Of course, that was part of the reason why they eventually surrendered before Iroh dealt with them. 

In truth, he wasn’t having high hopes for the Ba Sing Se front. 

There were too many losses and it would take some time to recuperate, even before thoughts of marriageable bachelors came into mind. The noble daughters were protected, which was why he was able to provide such an exhaustive list of particulars in the first place. The oldests sons would have been put out on the field unless they were much, much too young for their purposes, and that meant that Iroh himself might have had a hand in shortening his son’s options during the siege–dark as that idea would be to consider later, it was still important. 

Ack, if only the King hadn’t escaped! It would have been perfect! 

Iroh rubbed his forehead in frustration as he searched his records, thinking over a detail that–at the time–had only been an annoying inconvenience. Apparently, with the end of the siege drawing near, a contingent of Dai Li had tunnelled out of the city proper and escaped with their boy King, who by all accounts was a figurehead at most. But an expensive one, with a real Royal bloodline. Someone of such noble stature (and easily controlled weakness, he added) would have been a worthy offering to ease any complaints his father might make. The Fire Nation had no need for him as a ruler and he’d chosen not to waste resources tracking him down–out with the old regime after all–but he could've been a useful pawn. 

So, what then? Maybe he could comb through some options with the Fire Nation itself, but Crown Prince Iroh knew his homeland like the back of his hand and he didn’t recall any potential bachelors that would be worthwhile for his son, or be young enough besides. There were a few powerful noble Earth Kingdom families outside of Ba Sing Se, but the spy reports he had didn’t mention anything about any suitors they could pursue. 

“What…?” Iroh paused as his hand brushed against a very different report, sealed in a crisp, weather-resistant scroll-case. This particular kind of report was not one that Iroh usually dealt with personally; he was always so closely tied to the Ba Sing Se problem, that issues like this one were relegated to someone a tad further down the totem pole. 

The Southern Water Tribe.

Getting spies into this region was extremely difficult, as they were quickly recognized as foreigners and weeded out. There was really only one, working in exchange for his family’s safety, and was still hesitant to provide any information that endangered the Tribe as a whole.

The Southerners were a very tight-knit community. Only one of them proved to be a traitor, and even then it was with generous reservations. A curious case indeed. 

A stray thought, a consideration, brewed in the back of the man’s mind as he slipped open the case with his finger and slipped out the enclosed parchment. The words inside were simple, concise, yet brought a world of trouble with them. One of the Chief’s family members was a waterbender. 

The wayward spy offered the bender in exchange for the rest of the village’s safety, knowing that such a presence within the Tribe would be discovered eventually, and many may die to protect them. The Fire Lord would certainly want them disposed of. 

Iroh tapped his upper lip thoughtfully before making another sweep of the study, pulling out any other reports on hand that had come from the Southern Water Tribe. He found an older report, this one having–among other things–details regarding the Chief’s family. The spy had not mentioned names or ages, but he did specify that the Chief was married, his mother intact, and had both a son and daughter. The gears in the man’s brain spun rapidly at this information. If the spy was only recently offering the knowledge that a waterbender was present, it was likely that one of the two children was the bender in question, as such talent would have appeared long ago if it were one of the adults instead. And that presented Iroh with an opportunity.

He was moving on a 50/50 gamble. If the bender was the son, then he’d be stuck right back at square one, and a report would have to be made. If the bender was the daughter, then the son would be viable to them. Not precisely nobility, but the Chief’s son could be a useful enough bargaining chip to win the Fire Lord’s approval, with Iroh’s expert convincing of course. 

It would require him to lie to his father though… Fire Lord Azulon wouldn’t allow a waterbender to go free and live, even just a little girl. Unless of course...he had the Water Tribe’s cooperation. 

Iroh could dismiss the spy; he’d have no further use for him if this plan for the son worked out in his favor. And the Water Tribers were very clever in their own right. They’d do a better job hiding the girl from the Fire Lord if they knew Ba Sing Se had fallen, and offering up the boy to the man who was responsible for it would save them from the same fate. And then he will have effectively conquered the South, silenced the threat of the remaining waterbender, and provided a prize for his son. And all without the spilling of a single drop of blood. Iroh smiled at how neat his new little plan looked in his mind, even if he knew how complicated it would be to enact. 

He wasn’t really interested in wiping out the Southerners, even if he knew his father was already on the road to ordering it now that the Earth Kingdom was defeated. Iroh was always fascinated in their culture, damaged though it was by repeated invasions, and it would be a shame if it ceased to exist altogether. This little deal could save them, and he was very certain the Chief would be reasonable enough to understand what was at stake. 

He swept all of the gathered reports into a pile and tucked them under his arm, straightening to his feet. There was one more thing he had to do before breaking his idea to the Fire Lord, and that was determining whether it was the boy or the girl with the bending potential. 

This could make or break the entire deal. 

Iroh hadn’t asked after his son’s preferences beyond gender, but his choices remained limited: enough social weight to be worth the position, a source of influence for the Fire Nation, younger than the Prince, and (as per the youth’s own request) male. As a father, Iroh would like to keep his promise to Lu Ten. And as a Prince, he had a duty to his country, but turning a blind eye to the waterbender might be necessary to fulfill the former. He had to be absolutely sure.

Iroh pulled up a sheet of parchment so that he could pen a reply to the spy’s letter, albeit one that was very brief and to the point. ‘Which one of the children is the waterbender? Any further information on the two of them you can provide before I visit you at the end of the month would be highly appreciated. Regards, Crown Prince Iroh.’

Concise. And structured specifically to instill cooperation and fear. Both through the promise and implication. The spy hadn’t at all mentioned that the waterbender was a child after all. 

And it was rare that Iroh himself stayed in communications instead of delegating with this spy. 

He hummed quietly as he rolled up the message into a tight little case and sought out the messenger bird for this task. For communications with a Southern spy, Iroh had chosen and trained a peregrine-shrike instead of the typical hawk, as they were smaller and less eye-catching than the Fire Nation’s preferred choice of bird, with pale grey feathers that made them stand out less in the snowy climate. With how clever and leery the Water Tribe was, it was necessary. 

Sending the bird off with a flourish, Iroh sighed and turned away. Now, all he had to do was keep his father too distracted with matters relating to Ba Sing Se to focus on planning a Southern invasion. At least long enough to get a response back to plan his next move. 

Of course that still left one more mystery to solve. That of his wayward brother, and the unknown incident of which the Fire Lord would not speak. 

Unknown Location

The campfire crackled and burned in the night, dancing a merry jig that the boy watching it didn’t feel at all. Meat was cooking on a spit above the flames, steadily turning golden brown. He listened dimly as the oil and fat sizzled and popped faintly in the rising heat. 

“Zuko dear, please turn it over for us. The other side needs some more heat,” His mother asked him calmly, her hands busy as she tried to mend a blanket for them with a needle and thread. Ursa had pricked herself with the sharp points multiple times, unfamiliar with the effort and technique that went into sewing. She had told him in an insecure voice that all she knew of the art was from watching the maids at work. But there was no one better to handle it. It wasn’t as though Zuko or his sister knew how to sew really, and respectfully, his father was a lost cause. 

The boy reached over to the spit and turned it using the crude handle on the side, cranking stiffly until the sizzling mass was turned the other way around. Zuko glanced unsteadily at the shoulders of their soon-to-be-meal, remembering with a faint shiver of his father’s hands twisting the animal’s head like a screw. He’d been aware of how strong the man was, but he’d just never really seen it...in action. Ozai had the creature (and he wasn’t sure what it was; something canine and edible was as far as his knowledge extended) pinned when he’d ordered Zuko to stab it, finish it off. The boy had hesitated much too long, and the man made a frustrated noise before he took matters into his own hands, literally. 

It wasn’t as though Zuko had any kind of problem with eating animals–he’d always known where the food he was eating came from–but he’d never had to kill to eat before, and his life had changed so much and so fast.

Maybe Zuko was being a little unfair. They needed to hunt their own food now instead of having it brought out on silver platters, and if his father had to get violent (scary) to put a meal on the metaphorical table, there was really no getting around the inevitable manner of death. Spirits knew there wouldn’t be anything left among the ashes to eat if Ozai used his fire instead. 

That didn’t stop the sight from disturbing the young Prince though.

Zuko had accompanied him on that first hunt, fumbling with his too-large swords as they baited larger game with the messenger hawk his father had killed when they first fled the palace. “It was one of Iroh’s,” His father had said when he’d first silenced the bird, and the boy had simply twisted his hands anxiously around the handles of his blades without a word. 

Did they really have to leave the palace? Was it really such a bad idea to wait until his uncle came back and try to talk to him? Zuko hadn’t spoken those words aloud, and any inclination to died the moment he realized that both of his parents were on stalwart agreement on the matter.

Not even Azula was in the loop, as her complaints on the night they fled showed him. Whatever satisfaction the boy could take from her being just as lost as him faded on the first few days out of civilization. The family all slept fitfully on stolen military cots, deprived of the many luxuries of home. But where father had been stubbornly tight-lipped about what happened, Ursa had offered some slight, cryptic answers: it wasn’t safe for them to stay in the capital anymore. His mother promised them that this wilderness was only temporary, that she had a plan for finding shelter, a place to stay where the elements couldn’t reach them.

But the knowledge, vague as it was, did not calm Zuko’s anxious nerves. 

More than once he found himself sneaking away from their shared campsite and practicing firebending until he was exhausted, crawling back into his cot to sleep. He didn’t know that his sister and father were doing something similar, their own fire a balm for the family’s lost power.

They were lonely lights that flickered in the darkness, searching for purpose and answers. 

Six Months Later

Southern Water Tribe

The Southern Water Tribe was not accustomed to the sight of black ships foretelling anything but disaster, and in hindsight, this time was probably no different.

They arrived midday, with no effort to conceal themselves or avoid patrols. And it wasn’t hard to see why. The convoy was larger in scale than any of the Fire Nation raids that the Southern Water Tribe remembered. This was far beyond the capabilities of their navy. If they tried to fight this invasion, they would be destroyed, no way around it. 

The reaction was panicked, but immediate. The Chief had not hesitated to call for the evacuation of the women and children to the ice caves, and anyone who was unable to was quickly escorted to the inner walls. All support and the youngest warriors retreated to the walls where they would be safer. But all of them had seen the terrifying size of the invading force, what they were facing, and the dread of a hopeless resistance settled over them. Chief Hakoda knew the threat that was approaching with utter clarity, but he believed that surely they would not be wiped out so easily. Even if he fell, maybe he could still hide his family from harm, even in the face of so much coming destruction. 

But then, something very unexpected happened that threw his expectations into disarray.

From the lead ship, one more massive than any other and decorated in golden accents, a single waving white flag was raised into the air. They were calling for a parley. 

“What?” Hakoda blinked, watching tensely as that ship released its gangplank, and a solitary man descended the metal walkway. He was a middle aged man with a well-groomed beard and a glittering golden hairpiece that gave away his rank. Hakoda set his jaw in dread the moment he recognized the shape; the man was a Prince. What could bring a Prince of the Fire Nation to the front line of an invasion of the Water Tribe? Whatever he wanted, the Chief was certain that it spelled bad news for his community, despite the fact that they were not attacking. The fact that the man had descended alone did not make Hakoda feel any safer or at ease.

The Prince calmly walked to the center of the unofficial No Man’s Land in between the village walls and the coast and waited there. A few soldiers quickly followed him, carrying a small table, two chairs, and a simple canopy, which they set up on the ground before swiftly returning to the ship. The Prince then sat down in his own chair, the canopy casting a shadow over his expression. But Hakoda could still tell how the man looked up at the wall expectantly. Waiting. 

It was obvious what he was supposed to do next. 

“I’m going down to talk to him,” Hakoda announced, straightening from his place on the wall.

Immediately, there was an outcry from the warriors at arms, most notably his Second and best friend, Bato. “Hakoda, you can’t be serious. Walking down there alone is suicide! The Fire Nation is just waiting for the chance to lure you into a trap.” 

The Chief shook his head firmly, “Possibly. But it's guaranteed suicide if we do nothing. We can all clearly see the force waiting for us out there, enough to batter down our walls with ease. And then, our families will be next.” He took a breath, thinking to himself how the Fire Nation had already won. All that was left for him to do was choose to hear their terms or throw himself on their flames. “I’ll take the risk. It’s a better option than sacrificing ourselves to certain doom.”

He stepped away. There were no more protests, or, no more than would be able to stop Hakoda in his decision. There wasn’t any other choice, not for them. 

The walk across No Man’s Land was composed of a tense silence, interrupted only by the soft crunch of snow under his boots. Hakoda felt like he was walking to his own execution, and maybe he really was. If it kept the village safe, then that was a sacrifice he was prepared to make, even if the dread shook his bones to their core. Spirits, Kya would be so mad at him for what he was doing. Hakoda could only be thankful that she and the kids were out of the line of fire; they could be as angry at him as they wanted so long as they survived this.

When he was close enough for the Prince to incline his head in greeting, the man opened his mouth and spoke, “Well met, Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe. If you would please take a seat so that we can speak more officially…” The man waited patiently until the Chief took his suggestion, settling heavily and unwillingly in the provided chair. His voice was unnervingly casual and relaxed. Of course, the Fire Nation was in the position of power here. “I am Crown Prince Iroh of the Fire Nation. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you after all I’ve heard.”

“Is that right?” The Chief glanced at the ships gathered on the coast, waiting for a word or signal to move in for the kill. The Prince, in contrast, had an expression that was borderline friendly. In the threatening position he was in though, it came off as insulting. “Is there a reason you showed up here with a conveniently invasion-sized fleet?”

Prince Iroh’s lips curled just slightly, “Well, I am a Prince. I can’t take a little trip to the Water Tribe without an appropriately-sized escort after all. But, if you want to consider my friends out there an incentive to my suggestions, I won’t hold it against you.”

Hakoda’s fists tightened on the table before him. Maybe it wasn’t an explicit threat, but it could easily become one. “So, what did you come here for?”

“Ba Sing Se has fallen to the Fire Nation army.” Hakoda froze at the man’s words. What? But that meant that… “That means that the Earth Kingdom has all but fallen,” The Prince finished his thoughts for him, “even if there remains pockets of resistance here and there, the end result is that this long-running war is officially over. All that remains is the Water Tribe.” Iroh clasped his hands together, letting the moment simmer, as if he knew to let the information sink in. “Now, if my father had his way, this would very much be an invasion. But it doesn’t have to be. As it turns out, I have found another option for you to take to save your people.”

It shouldn’t have come down to this. The Water Tribe shouldn’t be the last holdout against the Fire Nation. No, not the Water Tribe as a whole. Just the South. Hakoda had never tried to lash out against them before, but he couldn’t help the spike of bitterness that pierced his chest to think about how their northern cousins had left them all alone for so long. He couldn’t help but feel like they had all been abandoned.

“Why would you do this?” Hakoda asked, feeling shell-shocked. But still, he wasn’t sure why the Prince would bother to offer an alternative. It wasn’t as though his many achievements in the Earth Kingdom went unnoticed. “What do you and the Fire Nation gain from sparing us?”

The man chuckled, “Well, I’ve always been very interested in the Water Tribe’s history and culture. I, at the very least, would consider it a loss if it vanished." 

Hakoda's fists shook in a restrained anger. So if what the other man was saying was honest, then he was sparing them not out of mercy or respect, but because he found them interesting and exotic. If there wasn't a fleet of warships at his back… The man loosened his grip; he couldn’t afford to ruin this now, not with everyone hanging in the balance. "Is that all?"

"Hardly," The older man said, waving a hand, "if that was the extent of it the Fire Lord would never approve. No, I'm thinking of something more official." 

Prince Iroh pulled forth a rolled bit of parchment tied with a red silk ribbon. He opened the document smoothly and set down before the Chief to read. With no small amount of trepidation, the Chief pulled the scroll closer, glancing cautiously at the Prince as he did so. But as it turned out, only a few sentences in and Hakoda already felt his hackles rising, wanting to defy this in any way he could manage. He was prepared for self-sacrifice. That would be an acceptable price; he was responsible for the community and if anyone had to pay a price… 

But this...this he could not have prepared for, and frankly, didn’t want to either. "This is a marriage contract," Hakoda said stiffly, dropping it back to the table. "Is this your idea of a joke?"

"I'd think not! Jokes are meant to make people laugh," Iroh had the gall to look disappointed when the Water Triber didn't dignify that sentence with a response. He sighed instead, "Yes, indeed, it is a social contract of sorts. Between your son and mine. Normally, we only deal with nobility and royalty for these types of arrangements, but your position as Chieftain gives your family a certain amount of social clout that makes them viable. And to make a long story short, my search for candidates in the Earth Kingdom didn't work out to our advantage. You should also consider that this contract is the establishment of a mutual cease-fire between our two nations. In simplest terms, a peace treaty that your people so desperately need." That the alternative involved being burned and beaten into the ground like the Earth Kingdom (or much worse) was an unspoken truth attached to his words. 

Hakoda stared down at the parchment lying on the table in between his hands, wishing he had the freedom to tear it in half. But still the question persisted, "Why Sokka?"

“You mean...why didn't I pick your daughter?” Hakoda stiffened just a bit more, staring at the other man, the realization sinking in that Prince Iroh knew more about his family than he should. “Or are you actually concerned about your lack of an heir?”

Hakoda’s gaze hardened, “That’s not how it works.” Even if he would like for Sokka to inherit his position some day (he would be filled with pride actually), it wasn’t his decision. The most he could do was make suggestions and recommendations, but the elders made the final call in the end. The fact that Sokka could very well qualify for the position through his later accomplishments and strength of character was beside the point, independent of his blood. 

That was the order they’d established themselves by for so long, a balancing act of power the Fire Nation would never do. 

But at this rate, it wouldn’t make a difference what he thought. 

Sokka was being forced out of the running. 

“Oh, I know. I told you I’ve been interested in your culture,” The Prince said lightly, “I was just testing you. It’s good to know how much you care for your child without questions of heirs coming into play. No, in reality there are several reasons why choosing him was one of the best options available,” Iroh clasped his hands together calmly. “The first is that my father–Fire Lord Azulon will not tolerate mixing royal blood with the Water Tribe, and a surrogate is fairly easy to obtain. So under the circumstances, he will allow for a male suitor. The second is that my son asked for this.” When the Chief’s eyes shot wide in shock, Iroh spoke up again, “Not for your son specifically, of course. But he has his preferences, and as a father, I feel the need to indulge him. And for the third, as a General, this was an important opportunity to...how do I phrase this? ‘Crush a rebellion.’" Prince Iroh’s gaze narrowed dangerously. 

Multiple birds with one stone, Hakoda thought grimly. Of course. 

It wasn’t hard to imagine the Fire Nation choosing an option that worked out in their favor in multiple ways, but that didn’t make marriage a predictable solution. It was so... bureaucratic, more like what Hakoda would have expected from the Earth Kingdom to patch together territories, not the more militaristic firebenders.

But it was useless to talk about the Earth Kingdom now, after they had fallen at last. 

"You go out of your way for your son, but won't spare mine the freedom to choose? He's just a child!” It was horrible to think of how much Sokka stood to lose from this deal, but the idea of letting him and everyone else die was even more unthinkable. 

"You think so little of me? These deals are planned years in advance; I don't have the intention of snatching the boy away here and now. You have more than enough time to prepare. And Prince Lu Ten is a good and honorable young man who would never harm him even if he were given the opportunity. Signing this agreement will tie our countries together for years before and after the eventual marriage." Iroh stopped short. His gaze met the Chief's, and the flinty edge of a warning could be seen in his amber eyes. In the end, the man was still an enemy prince, and his unspoken yet obvious threat nailed that home. "Do you understand how generous of a deal this is, Chief Hakoda? You should be aware of my Lord father's thoughts on the Water Tribe, and the effort I went through to have this contract approved. Isn't giving up one child preferable to an all-out invasion force? Or a precision raid targeting your waterbender daughter?"

They knew about her secret. Another revelation. Another piece of information that the Fire Nation couldn't possibly know unless...someone told them. The Chief’s voice was quiet when he spoke next, the dull ache of defeat laced into his words, “And which traitor told you about that?”

Iroh heard his tone well, relaxing back in his chair, “Oh, I think you’re more than clever enough to find the answer to that on your own. We’ll no longer be needing them after this, so you’re free to do as you wish with them.” He craned his head back, taking in the line of ships that were so patiently waiting on his signal. “Only I know about the waterbender, thanks to your little snitch.” With a gesture over his shoulder, Prince Iroh indicated the still navy, and his voice remained measured. “They don’t know about her, and neither does the Fire Lord. Sign the contract, let me know that my efforts haven’t been in vain, and they never will. Remember these words, Chief Hakoda; your son isn’t the one whose life is in danger here. Your daughter’s, however, is.” 

Hakoda looked away, restraining the shake in his hands as he plucked the contract up from the table. He no longer felt the impulse to destroy it, but still felt more than uncomfortable with it.

Spirits, what was he supposed to say to Sokka?

“I…” He swallowed once, regaining his nerves and his strength. “I must first convene with the elders before making this decision.” Even if he was Chief, it was their sway over the people that put him in power to begin with, and what kept him there. What he didn’t say, (and what probably came through in the tone of his voice) was that the elders were unlikely to say anything to contest the Prince’s demands. In the end, their first priority was the safety of the community.

It burned him deep inside to know that most of them would likely agree to hand his son over to the enemy for the sake of that safety, and the safety of their only waterbender. 

Sympathy aside, he knew exactly where their priorities lied. 

The Prince relaxed in his chair, “Very well. Go ahead and do so and return. Feel free to take the contract with you. I happen to have a spare right here.” He patted the pouch on his side, a fairly unsubtle reminder that any impulse to rip the scroll apart would do no good (even if doing so wouldn’t somehow anger the Prince enough to order his troops to attack). 

Hakoda rose from the chair slowly, feeling like this one meeting had aged him twenty years, and began the silent trudge back to the wall. He clutched the contract tightly in his fist, head lowered. And when the Chief made his way back into the town proper, he couldn’t bring himself to say anything to the warriors who tried to pry for information, not even the increasingly anxious Bato. “I have to talk to the elders,” was the only thing Hakoda was able to say, increasing his pace. It wouldn’t be long before word got back to his family and he was rushing to see the council before they could arrive; and the man knew he couldn't lie to Kya if she asked. 

He paused at the entrance to the meeting hall, took a deep breath, and stepped inside.

When the warning call rang out, Kya–only just missing the sight of her husband stepping out the village gate–in only a mere moment, had realized what kind of terror they would be facing. The harried woman immediately found herself running into the village plaza to find her children. Thankfully, despite the panic in her brain, it wasn’t a trying task at all. 

They must have been having an innocent game of tossing snowballs back and forth when the black snow came, remains of a packed sphere fallen at Sokka's feet as he and Katara stared at the drifting specks of black whizzing through the air. "Kids!" Kya called out, her voice causing two pairs of blue eyes to whirl around to land on her with a slowly building alarm. "Come with me, both of you. It's dangerous out here!" Katara scrambled over quickly, anxiety clear in her expression. But seeing her brother glancing back at the wall with uncertainty, Kya snagged his wrist before he could think of doing something foolishly brave. "Don't even think about it, mister," She warned him sternly, keeping a tight hold on the boy. 

“It’s quiet up there, mama,” Katara told her worriedly. She glanced up at the wall where the warriors should be stationed. “I don’t hear anyone…”

That...was concerning. 

The tense silence in the air meant that no fighting had broken out yet, and yet the Fire Nation had never shown such hesitation before. She had become prepared for battle cries, for stamping feet and the ominous crackling of flame shot from aggressive hands. And for some reason, not hearing any of those signs didn’t make her any less worried about what was going on. 

Was there a reason why they weren’t pounding on their walls right then? 

Where was her husband?

Kya didn’t let that stop her from corralling her kids back home, defying Sokka’s attempts to get loose so he could go looking for Hakoda. He could do that when she knew they were safe, not before. But she wasn’t expecting to be met there by her husband’s best friend. “Bato?” She exclaimed, hurrying over to him, her children now perfectly willing to follow along. “What are you doing here? What’s going on out there? Is Hakoda–?”

“Yeah, what’s going on? Where’s dad?” The kids piped up, talking over each other loudly. 

“Whoa, easy, one thing at a time,” The man tried to calm them down, raising his hands. “Hakoda’s fine. We all are actually.” His expression turned into an anxious frown even as his voice remained mostly even, “I don’t really know what’s going on, but the Fire Nation didn’t attack, in fact, they even called for parley. Hakoda went down to talk to them. I tried to stop him, but he was dead-set on getting to the bottom of this. I’m just relieved it wasn’t a trap.”

Parley? Was he serious? After everything they’d done up to that point, they chose to talk?

Bato saw the frustration breaking out on her face and sighed, “I know how you feel. But, with the size of the force waiting out there, Hakoda didn’t think it was a smart idea for us to refuse them. I’m not sure what they talked about, but after he came back, he went straight to the elders without even clueing me in.” 

That was a bad sign. 

If something happened that Hakoda wouldn’t say anything to his best friend about, then she had cause to worry. “Let me know the moment he gets out,” Kya told him, her mind racing. After Bato inclined his head in understanding, she led her children back home, much to their dissatisfaction. There was nothing they could do about the Fire Nation outside their walls but wait, and Kya wasn’t about to let her kids roam out where they could get hurt. 

Back home again, Kya immediately set her children to work helping her cook dinner so they wouldn’t run off again. She wasn’t sure if the effort was even necessary; she knew that cooking would be meaningless if the Fire Nation stopped waiting for them, for whatever they wanted from her husband. But Kya needed the busywork so that the stress of what was waiting just beyond their walls didn’t overwhelm her, even if that meant embracing the tantalizing normality of nothing more than a bubbling pot of stew. Still, the kids couldn’t help but complain. Katara was upset about not knowing what was going on. Sokka wanted to know when his father was coming back. Kya closed her eyes, steadily stirring the stew, and didn’t know what to say.

But still, she managed to corral them into sitting down for a meal with her despite everything. 

If she had known what was about to happen, Kya would have done everything in her power to enjoy that meager food with her kids, before her family was tainted by the coming inevitability.

But she felt it in her bones that something was terribly wrong when Bato showed up with her husband in tow, completely avoiding her eyes. Katara seemed to understand the heaviness in the air, but her brother all but missed it, excitedly asking if they’d scared off the Fire Nation without a fight. Hakoda winced and tensed up, making Kya feel like a ball of lead had just sunk into the pit of her stomach. Then, he knelt and encircled his son in a tight hug. The Chief’s voice was so very quiet, but she could still make out the words, “I’m so sorry, Sokka.”

“Hakoda…?” Kya whispered, “What happened out there?”

“Dad?” The boy asked, blinking widely as the man held him close, wriggling in the tight hold until he was released. Hakoda rose, taking his anxious wife by the hand and leading her out of the room, leaving their confused kids behind to be calmed down by Bato. Kya almost didn’t want to know what he didn’t want them to hear, but knew she had no choice. 

She could only stand stock-still as he handed a scroll to her, unbound with red, Fire Nation ribbon trailing over his wrist. 

And then, unwillingly, Kya read the contents within, and felt her world crumble. 

Five Years Later

Southern Water Tribe, Winter Palace

Every year that passed, the Fire Nation grew closer and closer to the final end to their conflict. Though rebellions rose and fell, one by one, the remaining nations were falling under their heel. While the Southern Water Tribe had officially signed a peace treaty, instead of being overwhelmed as the Earth Kingdom was, all who were involved knew that it was not a treaty won willingly. But no matter how many disapproved, the alliance marched onward regardless, and the arranged marriage of a Prince and a Chief’s son was soon at hand. 

Lu Ten found himself pacing in his dressing room anxiously, throwing glances out the window every so often, watching as the distant southern sun climbed up to its noonday height. 

It was fine weather for the South at least, he reflected, taking in the gently falling snow flurries and lack of wind. It perfectly complemented the sight of the sheer ice cliffs in the distance, a brilliant crystalline blue reflecting from their myriad depths. The Prince wasn’t expecting to see such sights. But as entrancing as it was, he wouldn’t be around very long to experience it. 

The ‘Winter Palace’ as they nicknamed it, was built partly as a high-security vacation home, but mostly as a tangible point of observation over the Southern Water Tribe in conjunction with their peace treaty; a foothold other than the harbors that his father had built in key points all across the southern territories. Lu Ten had paid several visits there already: overseeing the initial building stages, planning out new trade routes with the commander installed to watch over the facility, and prepping the navy for a refit for the southern cold. 

Lu Ten never found himself personally meeting with the Chief though, or his family. Partly, he recognized why: that his father didn’t want him to be unnecessarily tangling with his “in-laws” until after the marriage, just to make sure that the Water Tribe didn’t get any ‘rebellious’ ideas. After their alliance was solidified, and Lu Ten was on his way back to the Fire Nation with his betrothed in tow, he would be far safer. 

Even the clever and dangerous Chief of the South would know better than try his luck against them after that; it wasn’t as though the decision to marry off his son was made so easily that he would take such risks for the sake of personal hatred. 

His betrothed...was scheduled to arrive that very evening, and the wait was brutal. They would have a smaller ceremony there, at the Chief’s insistence, and then set sail at dawn. The rest of the tying would occur on Fire Nation soil. Lu Ten found himself both anxious and eager for the moment to finally meet him. 

At first he had been unsure about the prospect of being married to a Water Tribesman, completely out of his element of what to expect (and after all of his research on the Earth Kingdom as well), but it didn’t take long for him to decide to give Sokka a fair chance. 

Over the past few years, Lu Ten had been sent detailed reports alongside portraits of the boy’s growth into a young man, and found himself more and more intrigued by texts praising his intelligence, responsibility, and sense of focus. (There were criticisms from his teachers too: that he was prone to being smart-mouthed and sarcastic, and tried to correct his instructors. Somehow, Lu Ten wasn’t actually perturbed by that.) When he had first learned his intended’s name and origin, the Prince grew concerned that the boy would seek out rebellion, but reports stated his grudging commitment to protecting his home, even at the cost of the arrangement. That was very brave, and his sense of duty should be praised, even if it displeased him. 

(Apparently, the one who was the most angry about the contract was his betrothed’s younger sister. Katara, a girl possessed of a true, rebellious spirit. One who’d never submit to such an arrangement. Lu Ten heard his father mention it would be wise to avoid her the most of all.)

Lu Ten jerked and glanced up as the door creaked open, revealing his father, dressed in layers of thick, maroon robes, his crown shiny and polished for the occasion. “Almost prepared, my son?” He said, with a small smile, “I had to come and see you first. Before the young man arrived...though Chief Hakoda insisted on a delay, despite all the time we’ve already given him.”

Delay? “Is something wrong, father? Did something happen to…”

He was interrupted with a shake of the man’s head, “No, no, everything is fine. The Chief simply decided to wait until the last minute to put his son through what you might call...his ‘Rite of Manhood.’” Crown Prince Iroh chuckled to himself, “I suppose this is that man’s way to hold onto the boy for just a little while longer, even if it inconveniences us.” He moved closer, adjusting the collar on Lu Ten’s pristine scarlet clothes, a twinkle in his eye, “How about yourself? Any pre-wedding jitters, Lu Ten?”

“A little,” Lu Ten admitted, wondering how his first conversation with Sokka would go. His father hadn’t gone into details, but he’d implied that Chief Hakoda had been coerced into giving up his son (it would be no different from if they’d chosen to take from the defeated Earth Kingdom instead, but still he was concerned). Still, Lu Ten was planning on winning him over. “But it is an arranged marriage after all. I should be expecting it to be somewhat stressful.”

Iroh clapped him on the shoulder, his tone deeply encouraging, “You’ll be fine, my son. And from what I hear from the reports, he’s quite a smart young man and your intended will make for an excellent addition to the family. I believe that he’ll find his place in the Fire Nation in no time at all. Now come, there are still a few pre-marital rites we have to complete before he arrives.”

Lu Ten took one more glance out the window and turned to follow his father as they exited the room, trusting in his words and a peaceful union.

The Southern Water Tribe had always been an untamed place, wild with the elements of nature and the beasts that the tribe hunted to feed their community. Many had preferred it that way.

One of the older traditions of the South that managed to survive the degradation and raids was the ice-dodging, the rite that marked the transition from a boy to a man. As a kid, Sokka had been looking forward to this day for a long time, for the scent of salt spray, the wind in his hair, and the power of directing a ship unharmed through treacherous waters. Once, he had thought that this would be the turning point of his life, the day that he finally became a real man of the tribe in every way that mattered, standing side by side with every capable warrior in the village. 

He didn’t feel that way any longer. 

Even though Sokka wanted this for so long, and enjoyed the feel of the power and responsibility of leading his ship to safety, he also knew it was only a temporary reprieve. How could he really take pleasure in what was supposed to be a big moment for him when he knew what was around the corner? Sokka was barely focused on the waves and riptides, even as he carefully navigated the cresting ice floes, so close it was like threading a needle. Soon enough, he exited the danger zone, floating softly into the bay, looking out at the village harbor, where the warriors were waiting for his triumphant return for clearing his rite.

Sokka bit at his lip anxiously, his hands too tight around the tiller. He cast a nervous glance away from the village, out into the open sea, a temptation brewing in his mind. He’d submitted to the contract, agreed. But Sokka still felt that animal instinct to run bubbling in his brain, to flee from the trap the Fire Nation forced him into. And even though he knew beyond a doubt that the black ships that patrolled the bay would find and catch him, Sokka still wanted to try. 

But he wouldn’t.

Ever since the day he was engaged to a Prince he’d never met, Sokka had bits and pieces of his life changed around him long before the unavoidable ceremony came. Some of them were more minor things, like forbidding the boy from cutting his hair short anymore, or the obligatory betrothal gifts (that did absolutely nothing to soothe his parents’ distress), or the Fire Nation priests’ “blessings from Agni” that Sokka didn’t believe a word of. 

Others were major, like the “palace” that the Fire Nation had built some distance away from the village on the shoreline, visible in the distance every time Sokka managed to get away for a hunting trip, ominously looming. He hated that place. Hated the symbol of Water Tribe defeat that its presence entailed. Hated the regular lessons he had to take there on the Fire Nation’s inescapable propaganda, and getting his knuckles rapped with a ruler when he tried to protest what they were telling him. He even hated the way it looked, an eyesore of red and black in a sea of white. But that place, along with everything else, was just inevitability. Sokka felt the inevitable in the back of his mind, and knew that escape was not an option for him. 

Sokka relaxed his hold on the tiller and directed the boat slowly back to shore, feeling like a heavy weight had been pressing down on him all the while. Docking upon the ice, Sokka took one last look at the free waters, then stepped down off the vessel. 

He was immediately met with warriors who were watching him complete his rite, congratulating him and clapping him on the back, proudly proclaiming Sokka to be a true warrior of the South (putting on brave faces for him). Even Bato was there, looking visibly anxious but attempting to be supportive for the ceremony. Sokka for his part smiled and laughed with them as much as he could, but his expression never quite reached his eyes in spite of it all.

Sokka didn’t feel any more like a man now that it was over. It should have helped, but it didn’t. 

The ice-dodging didn’t make him feel any less like a helpless kid being transactionally handed over to greedy, Fire Nation royalty, as Sokka hoped. And the worst thing was that he knew that this marriage was a trap, a cage. But he would still willingly walk into it because he knew what was at stake. Sokka (and everyone else) knew that he was a small price to pay for peace. 

He was led back to his home, where a fine feast was laid for him. Sokka tried to enjoy it, tried to be enthusiastic. But he knew he didn’t fully succeed. Besides, it wasn’t a very happy affair. 

Chief Hakoda had been spotted watching from a distance, a miserably sad look in his eyes. But Kya had forbidden him from attending; even when everyone knew there was no choice, she still hadn’t really forgiven him for surrendering Sokka. Things had been strained between his parents ever since the contract arrived, and today was the worst of all. Kya wouldn’t even look at his father while she combed back Sokka’s hair. He couldn’t truly blame her, but Sokka still loved his dad and wished they wouldn’t tear each other apart and fight because of him. 

And Katara had never come to accept it. 

She even tried to take him aside and make one last ditch effort to convince him to escape, “Sokka, you don’t need to do this! We can find another way!” Sokka looked at her, feeling his sister’s tight grasp around his hands, shaking ever so slightly. “I don’t want you to go like this…”

But there was no way he could take her up on that offer. Sokka knew the community was at stake. And also, he could feel the weight of knowledge in the Crown Prince’s gaze every time he visited; he knew what Katara was. And Sokka had to protect his sister. “No, it’s gonna be alright,” He said, shaking his head to her offer. “You know we don’t have a choice.”

She hugged him, tears in her eyes, “If you don’t write, I’ll go to the Fire Nation and drag you home myself.” The threat fell a little flat, but Sokka nodded anyway, not having the heart to push her buttons the way he usually did. He didn’t know when he’d see Katara again. 

All good things came to an end.

Sokka found himself in the changing room set aside for him, with his mother helping him into the wedding clothes he feared so much. His parka was replaced with an expensive set of heavy robes, cool blue in color and yet made in Fire Nation style, sleeves so long that they completely engulfed his hands. His hair was pulled up and tied in a topknot, secured in place with an elaborate silver ornament. It didn’t take very long at all; not much of a way to stall for more time. 

“Dear…?” An uncertain voice had Sokka turning to find his mother hesitating to put the final touches on his outfit, “How are you feeling? Are you...ready?”

He nodded back jerkily, “Yeah, I-I think so.” He gave her a forced smile, trying to inject just a little bit of cheer into the situation. “Don’t worry about me, mom. They’re not going to hurt me, and we’ll be able to send letters too, so it’s not all bad! Just make sure Katara doesn’t follow me overseas, and I won’t have anything to worry about.” She didn’t reply in words, only embracing him gently, completely taking Sokka’s words away with her quiet sincerity. 

Still, he didn’t want to leave when things were still so tense back home. 

“Mom?” Sokka felt her shift slightly against his cheek, listening quietly. “Could you…?” He paused, taking a breath, “Promise me when I leave that you’ll make up with dad.”

“Sokka…” She shifted with uncertainty, “Even if we had no choice, it still hurts inside to know what he agreed to. It’s not so easy to see him give you up. I just...you’re still so young…” Sokka couldn’t respond. If all this hadn’t happened, maybe he’d contradict that, insisting that as a freshly-accepted man of the tribe, he was prepared to face anything that threatened the family with his head held high. But he wasn’t. He wasn’t ready for this, despite the brave face. 

But, he wasn’t sure how to ease her mind, murmuring, “Mom...I…” 

He was cut off when he heard stomping feet from outside the tent, and both of them hurried and straightened up as a voice called out from outside. “Young Sokka, Madam Kya. It’s time.” Kya drew a thick, fur cloak around Sokka’s shoulders, took a deep shuddering breath, and followed him outside. A squad of Fire Nation soldiers were waiting for him there, carrying a large and insulated, gold-trimmed box, the ominous presence of Crown Prince Iroh stood calmly nearby, giving Sokka a polite smile that caused his stomach to tie itself in knots. “We may be running a little late, but I decided to escort you myself as to make good time,” The older man said easily, seemingly unaware (or ignoring) of how uncomfortable Sokka was to be with the man who arranged this union to begin with. His father-in-law, as the contract stated. As he watched, one of the lead men opened the door in the front of the box to reveal a seat, waiting for him. 

There was nothing left to stall for. He’d already made all his goodbyes. Sokka stepped up into the isolated little seat, and the wooden door sealed before him, trapping him in that tiny, red room. Almost immediately, the Fire Nation stepped into motion (not enough time to alleviate his mother’s distress–he knew the Prince didn’t really care), leaving Sokka to sit in suffocating silence as he was taken away from his home.

For a while, all he could hear was stomping feet, the procession continuing onward. Sokka drifted, closing his eyes and trying to look on the bright side, if there was one. 

By the time the march of the escorts’ feet changed to loud and clipped, indicating that they’d left the snow behind, Sokka had fallen asleep. He was only abruptly awoken from the loud thud of a large, metal door closing. He had to hurriedly shake himself back to alertness when a hand unlatched the front of the box and ushered him out. He immediately recognized the sleek, crimson-decorated halls of the ‘Winter Palace,’ one of the last places he’d see in the South before the harbor, and the boat that would take him away. Sometime in between when they’d entered and Sokka stepping onto the polished tile, the Crown Prince had slipped away somewhere, and Sokka found himself glancing around trying to find the slippery old man. 

The guards didn’t even try to speak to him as they escorted him, and Sokka knew on some level that they must be looking down on him. Judging him. Because he was Water Tribe? Or maybe because he was a guy being wed to another guy, escorted like a princess, with his wolf-tail replaced by precious metal to pin in his hair instead. When Sokka first found out about that (and the rest of the ceremonies he’d have to participate in), the humiliation hurt far worse than any bruised knuckles his teacher could mete out with his ruler. 

But that was all old news, Sokka had been coached on all of this many times over within the past year. He knew what he was supposed to (had to) do. 

The hall Sokka was brought to was lit with muted red flames, an intricate carpet decorated with swooping, golden birds rolled out, and the frosted domed ceiling lined with flickering fire to keep the atmosphere warm. The air was solemn and smelled of incense and spice. 

Most of those assembled were Fire Nation priests, Sokka recognized them from when they’d deliver “blessings” to his parents during the engagement process. He caught a glance of his teacher, So Lung, standing next to one of the priests with his chest puffed out proudly, had probably been bragging about how he’d successfully “tamed” a Water Tribesman in preparation for such an important event (Sokka had to fight to stop his lip from curling in disgust). Iroh was waiting at the head of the room, an extra layer of elaborate cloth draped around him. The man gave Sokka a knowing look when their sight met, and the boy looked away anxiously. 

And then, on his right, was the man of the hour. Prince Lu Ten. 

He was tall, for one thing. Perfectly put together, calm, and smiling. Like his father maybe–except for his height and clean-shaven face–but that he seemed...softer somehow, more genuine, with warm amber eyes. Lu Ten gave Sokka a hopeful look and held out one hand as he approached, the escort dissipating behind him to give them room. 

Sokka couldn’t forget what he’d been taught, even if he wanted to, and he knew how important this was to follow through with. Throat dry, he took Lu Ten’s hand and proceeded to study the floor as the head priest stood before them. The man inhaled and called flames to his hands, causing Sokka to tense up involuntarily. He began to speak of “Agni” and spirit’s strength and direction in all things, guiding their steps, and destiny, and other things Sokka had no interest in hearing or paying attention to. At the end of the man’s winding speech, he dispersed the fire into sparkling embers and spread his hands, at which point the newly minted couple bowed to him on cue–a necessary showing of respect to Agni, Sokka’s teacher had told him. 

Then they were directed to face Prince Iroh, who held in his hands a shiny red ornament shaped like a simple flame. Queasy, Sokka did as he was gestured and bowed to the Crown Prince as well alongside his...betrothed (“respect to one’s new family” So Lung’s words echoed in his brain). While his head was lowered, Iroh pinned the ornament into his hair and spoke in an even tone, “May you prove to be a worthy Son of the Fire Nation.”

Then finally, Sokka and Lu Ten turned to each other, the former looking up at this man he didn’t know with trepidation, and the latter wearing an expression that was probably meant to be encouraging if nervous. Then they bowed to each other (“respect to one another” a lie). 

They rose, and under the hum of the gathered officials, Prince Lu Ten dared to move closer and whispered, “I will do everything in my power to make this a peaceful union for you. I will make you want for nothing.” Sokka didn’t believe him, and only shook his head ever so slightly, aware that he was still being watched. “I promise,” Lu Ten appealed to him once more. 

Sokka merely closed his eyes and as they rose, he allowed himself to be led away. 

The rest of the rites passed in a blur, with Sokka sitting on pins and needles, holding all of his frustration and indignation behind his teeth until the time watchful eyes would disperse. He was just waiting for the moment when he could let it all out. 

The tea ceremony with Iroh, now officially his father-in-law, was absolute torture. The old man was smiling and laughing with his son, sharing stories of his childhood while enjoying his tea. Like there was nothing wrong in the world. Like Sokka wasn’t bottling up everything about this. Iroh tried once or twice to invite him into the conversation, maybe talk about his family (which Sokka would not have tolerated), but was surprised to find Lu Ten stepping up for him, “Leave him be for now, father. This has been...a stressful situation.” Sokka felt foolishly grateful for the consideration.

Sometime during the evening, when the Crown Prince said his goodbyes for the night, Lu Ten took him by the arm and led him down to the harbor, their guard following nearby.

The Prince’s personal vessel was massive and gold-trimmed. Sokka closed his eyes to his own departure, metal echoing under his feet. 

It wasn’t long until he was standing in a very personal place to the man he’d just married, as what was inevitable. Lu Ten’s cabin was sparsely furnished, but still had the typical flair: Fire Nation banners trailed down to the floor, and the color flared brightly from the bedsheets. Sokka was expecting something to go very sour there, post-wedding and all. But the young man defied his expectations instead led him over to a table next to a modest bookshelf instead. “Sokka, I have something for you,” Lu Ten told him, clearing the surface and setting up a checkered board with a set of carved tiles nearby. He sat at the table and extended a hand for Sokka to join him.

Sitting with wariness, Sokka took in the simple-looking board critically and for the first real time, engaged his betrothed in conversation, “What is this?”

“Pai Sho. My father and mother taught me to play it a long time ago.” Lu Ten began to slowly arrange the tiles on the board, glancing up at Sokka every so often, “It’s a game of intelligence, forethought, and is host to many different strategies. I heard a lot about how you were very clever for one so young, and you can learn a lot by playing a game like this…” He trailed off again, giving Sokka that same, strangely hopeful look that he remembered from the wedding. 

Sokka had started to reach for one of the tiles out of curiosity, but Lu Ten’s words made him stop and straighten up in his chair. He was tired of the facade. He was barely even aware of when he spoke, but couldn’t take it back, “So when’s the other shoe going to drop, huh?”

Lu Ten blinked at him, looking confused, “What do you mean?”

Sokka huffed, “I’ve married you, and come morning, I’ll be taken far away from my home and family. Far away from anyone who could stop you from doing any horrible thing the Fire Nation wants to me. So when do I get locked up like the hostage I am? When do I have to perform my ‘spousal duties?’ Does the brand come next?”

The Prince only looked pained and alarmed, “I would never force you to do that!” He took a deep breath, “I didn’t choose you for this, Sokka. And I regret that my saying something so small ended up uprooting your life. But I admire your courage, your willingness to do this for the sake of your people; I like to think that in this situation, I would have done the same. And, I swear to you, that I have no intention of causing you harm at all.”

Sokka slumped in his chair, “I don’t believe you, and there’s nothing I can do about it.” He sighed, prodding at the board with a finger, “Why would something like this help anyway?”

“It helps you learn, both about strategy, and about how others think. I figured...if I taught you the rules, it could help you learn about me too, without having to talk if you don’t want to,” Lu Ten pressed one stack of tiles over to Sokka’s side of the table, an offer of truce. “If you don’t want to have a friendly game yet, you can think of me as an opponent, if you like.”

The would-be warrior considered that. Was there any harm to learning? 

There was temptation to a game of strategy.

“One more thing,” Sokka said, turning a lotus-carved tile over in his hand. “I want to know one thing if I play with you. What was that ‘small thing’ you said that caused all this?” 

Lu Ten sighed, and gave him a soft, bittersweet smile, a lingering trace of undeniable guilt in his eyes, “I...I just didn’t want to marry a woman, that’s all.”

Hilarious. Utterly hilarious. Sokka didn’t even realize he started laughing out loud until he dropped the tile and clutched at his stomach, Lu Ten drifting close as if he wanted to help but wasn’t quite sure how. All over that… A tiny little thing like that had ruined his life. He caught himself on the table, retrieving the fallen piece, looking up at his bewildered spouse and wondering if there really was something to be enjoyed here in this mess. “Teach me,” Sokka replied lightly, “I want to know if there's anything that you actually can salvage from this.”

Sokka had drifted off some time ago. The exhaustion had taken its toll on him. 

Lu Ten sat on the corner of the bed, watching him, gaze flickering over just once to the chaotic mess they’d left the Pai Sho board in. He was right, there was a lot to learn about Sokka just from one game, and he had talent, real talent. But the distress was so very clear. 

Maybe in an ordinary marriage, even an arranged marriage, now would be the time to ‘tie their bonds’ in the bedroom, and with anyone else, the Prince would have certainly wanted to do that too. He knew he was infamous in some respects. But Lu Ten didn’t have the heart to push him, with his mental state already so frayed. Sokka was special, had so much potential and a clever mind that saw so much more than he said, just like his father promised. But he was also unready. 

Lu Ten knew that he could win him one day for real. 

But not yet. 

He glanced at the portrait on his bedside, of a missing family, two cousins who’d taken holes out of his heart. They might have been gone, but he could fill the space with new bonds. 

They had time. “I’ll keep my oath,” Lu Ten told the sleeping Sokka, “I will make a peace for you.” He kissed him on the forehead, a promise made in silence.