Archive of Our Own ^beta

It’s been almost two years, and Zuko still jerks awake in a cold sweat, flame daggers shooting through clenched fists towards an enemy that doesn’t exist anymore.

He blinks through the morning panic and his fire fades into a warm, comforting feeling in his fingers. He allows the flames to dance playfully on his fingertips for a moment, taking a deep breath to recenter himself. 

Nightmares are nothing new, but they are rare these days. Usually Zuko is too exhausted to recall his dreams, whether they are terrifying or not.

He falls back down onto his pillow and stares blankly at the ceiling. 

He’s not sleeping or eating properly, though it's a secret he guards closely. If word got out that the Firelord couldn’t even feed himself, he’d have panicked rioting in the streets.

I did it to myself , he thinks bitterly, rubbing a hand over his face. I fired everyone .

No one blamed him for dismissing most of his generals and advisors. As his uncle said, those with the talent and appetite for war will never foster peace.

There’s a gentle knock on the door, and Zuko sits up straight and alert, as though his bones weren’t weighed down by a soul-crushing fatigue that has followed him through war and peace.

“Yes?”

The door flies open and Mai stands there, her face undeniably bored. “The Avatar is here to see you,” she mumbles.

“Aang? Why is he here?”

Mai shrugs and leans against his door frame as he hurriedly pulls on his robes. The sky is only just starting to lighten, so Aang must have travelled through the night. 

Aang is leaning against Appa when Zuko reaches the courtyard. The royal herald narrows his eyes at Zuko’s unkempt hair, before needlessly announcing the Avatar. Aang straightens and bows with his usual cheeky grin.

The Avatar looks like he’s growing up. His limbs are still skinny but he’s taller and broader now.

Zuko ignores formality and strides forward to embrace his friend. “It’s good to see you, Aang.” 

Aang hugs him back ferociously. “It’s been too long,” he says into Zuko’s shoulder. They pull back and Aang glances up at Appa. “I have a surprise for you!”

Zuko follows his gaze to Appa’s saddle, where several Kyoshi Warriors were lounging. All but one, who backflips off Appa effortlessly and bounces past them both. Zuko watches Mai and Ty Lee’s reunion carefully.

Mai hugs Ty Lee back with careful arms, a sharp contrast to Ty Lee’s eager squeeze. Mai mutters something and Ty Lee pulls back immediately, glancing at Zuko apologetically and bowing deeply. 

“Apologies, Firelord Zuko,” she starts seriously, before her usual energy returns. She grins and bounces on her feet. “I’m honoured to serve the Fire Nation again! It’s going to be just like old times!” She launches herself at Mai and the taller girl catches her with an eye roll.

Zuko looks back at Aang, who shrugs sheepishly. “I thought you might need some… extra protection.” The Kyoshi Warriors climb off Appa gracefully and each come to stand at attention behind Aang. “I’ve heard some troubling rumours.”

Zuko glares at the young monk. “I can take care of myself,” he snaps, folding his arms defensively.

Behind him comes a snort of derision. “You can’t even leave the city without insurgents trying to assassinate you,” Mai reminds him.

Zuko turns his glare onto her, but she doesn’t react and he clenches his fist. He turns back to Aang. “I’m handling it.”

Aang tilts his head innocently. “Zuko-”

“You’d really be doing us a favour,” one of the Warriors says. Zuko recognises Suki’s wide smile and sweet face under all the makeup. “It’s starting to get a bit boring back home.”

Zuko narrows his eyes at Suki and she meets his eyes calmly.

“We just want to be useful,” she adds.

Zuko turns away and stares up at the palace. The recent reports of Azula causing trouble in her cell, as well as noble families still loyal to Ozai sending him assassins every few months had put him on edge. But what did everyone expect? 

He had dismissed most of the palace guard after a careful vetting process, and he knows Mai is stretched thin trying to protect him.

“Fine,” he concedes, holding back the bite in his tone and giving Aang a small, apologetic smile. “But I will need to discuss it with my council. Having a foreign militia protecting the safety of the Firelord is bound to upset people.” They’ll think I’m weak is a thought he pushes away with some effort.

Aang rewards him with a huge smile, and the last of Zuko’s defensiveness dissipates in the face of it. This sweet kid just wants to help his friends , Zuko thinks. How could he deny him?

“What’s left of your council,” Mai reminds him harshly. She steps forward until she’s in front of Aang, a stark contrast of gloom and shine. “You’re the Avatar, it’s your duty to ensure the transition of power in the Fire Nation goes smoothly.”

Aang looks between them both, and Zuko sighs and pinches the bridge between his nose. “Mai-”

“He fired everyone . He can’t trust anyone-”

“-I’m right here-”

“-and he’s doing the work of an entire council of sages.” Mai’s voice drops back down to her usual uncaring dullness. “I just think it’s in the world’s best interests to make sure the new Firelord is able to do his job competently.”

Aang levels Mai with a serious look and bows respectfully to her. He turns back to Zuko. “Your girlfriend is right-”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Zuko snaps, because admitting that truth was easier than hearing two of his closest friends talk about how incompetent he is.

Aang throws an arm across Zuko’s shoulders and marches him towards the palace. “I’m here to help,” he says simply. 

Sokka isn’t eating or sleeping. 

Sokka isn’t doing much of anything these days.

He’s been staring at the wall for hours now, listening to the house wake up around him. His father was still snoring softly in the room next to him, and Katara had been enjoying watching the sunrise with some hot tea for a while now.

She always watched the sunrise when Aang was away. Sokka would tease her about it if he had the energy.

The days have blurred together and he can’t for the life of him remember how long Aang has been gone.

Sokka turns over in bed, facing the door and staring at it for a few moments before it slams open.

“ Sokka ,” Katara snaps.

Sokka makes an undignified noise and jumps in surprise, slipping off the bed onto the cold, hard ground. “Knocking! Ever heard of it?” he grumbles, climbing back onto the bed and gathering the blankets around him.

She rolls her eyes and strides to the window, jerking the curtains open roughly before turning to him with her hands on her hips.

“Ten more minutes?” he asks weakly.

Katara’s eyes harden. It’s a look their family wears well; concern and care turned violent and angry.

“Sokka I swear to La if you don’t get out of bed right now I will drag you out by your hair.”

Sokka’s hand touches his hair in reflex. She’s done it before.

He sighs and sits up, pulling the blankets off his body and hissing slightly at the cold air.

 “What’s the big deal?” he asks. “It’s so early.” He scrunches up his face in complaint.

Katara’s face softens as she stares up at her big brother. “Thank you,” she says gently, and Sokka ignores the strength of gratitude in her voice. She straightens and stares out into the bay. “A letter from Aang arrived this morning.”

Sokka groaned and sat back down on the bed, staring at the soft furs and blankets longingly. “You came to wake me up about your gross love-letters? Katara! I don’t want to know.” He’s had his fill of actually witnessing it in person, and if he sees anymore of it he might gouge his eyes out with a spoon.

Katara whacks him playfully on the shoulder. “We’re not that bad. Not as bad as you and Suki used to be.”

“What?! That is a blatant lie ,” Sokka protests, his hand on his chest. “ We were child-friendly. You guys are…” He screws his face up. “Child-making.”

She makes a noise of disgust. “Don’t be gross. Anyway, I need to talk about something serious here.

“Sokka… I’m really worried about you,” she begins, glancing at Sokka as though he were a cornered wild animal.

Sokka hangs his head and breathes. He just feels guilty, and tired. As much as he wants to hide back under the covers for a few hours, he owes it to his sister to listen.

“We’ve been through so much. Our entire lives we lived in fear of raids and invasions, and then we actively fought in the war.” She bumps his shoulder with hers. “We’ve seen things no kid should have to see, and we changed the world when no adult was brave enough to.”

He knows all of this. On days where he has enough energy to bathe, he’ll trace each scar on his body and think of each fight, each battle. Every other day, he stares up at the ceiling, a perfect blank canvas to reimagine each time his body feels a bone-deep primal fear for survival, welcoming it like an old friend.

“Sokka, you’re my big brother. I will always be here for you, and I will never give up on you.” Her eyes are ablaze with her cutthroat brand of love. Sokka is intensely glad he’s her brother, and not her enemy (though the jobs overlap sometimes).

“But I think it’s time for a change, don’t you?” she finishes softly.

Sokka glances up at her and she reaches over to squeeze his hand. “What do you mean, a change?”

“You’re not eating or sleeping, and I’ve hardly heard you laugh since…” She thinks about it for a moment. “Since Ba Sing Se.”

Sokka clenches his fists and takes a deep breath. After months of Katara’s concerned mothering and Aang’s quiet worry, Sokka owes them something . 

He sits still for another moment before looking into his sister’s kind eyes. “I don’t think the war is over. Not for me.” Her eyes soften, but she doesn’t say anything else. She squeezes his hand until he unclenches his fists. “I don’t know what to do, Katara. I’ve lived for so long just to survive, I…”

“You know I understand,” Katara reminds him gently.

Sokka nods. “I know. So how do you deal with it? How do you live each day so… normally?”

She hugs him then, sudden and welcome and warm. “It’s hard,” she admits. “But I live my life for the balance that Aang brings into the world. My purpose now is to help him bring peace. And also to care for the ones I love.”

Sokka feels guilty then, knowing that it was only out of concern for him that Katara didn’t join Aang on his latest journey to Kyoshi Island.

He opens his mouth but closes it again, his unsaid words feeling bitter on his tongue. What if all I’m good for is war? What if I never adjust to peace? What then?

Instead, he swallows them back and asks hopefully, “What did Aang write about? How’s Suki?”

Katara leans back and takes a deep breath. “The moment he got to Kyoshi Island, Ty Lee and Suki convinced him to take a few of the Warriors to Caldera.”

“Caldera?” Sokka frowns. “Is Zuko okay?”

Katara shrugs. “Aang isn’t good at providing much detail about important things, but as far as I could gather, Mai is concerned about his well-being. Aang didn’t mention anything, but it’s fair to assume that in the year since Zuko has claimed the throne, he would have dealt with a fair number of insurgents.” She chews on her bottom lip in worry.

Sokka has seen that look on Katara’s face too often; the grown-up crease of grown-up problems. She’s only sixteen. 

He yanks his fur blanket over both of their shoulders and she leans into his warmth gratefully. 

“I don’t think Zuko’s doing well,” Katara says quietly. 

Sokka frowns at the thought. Zuko’s quiet, steady strength and explosive outbursts weren’t exactly a recipe for happiness. “Are we really surprised by this?” he asks. “It’s Zuko . I’ve literally heard him say the words, ‘I’m never happy’. To my face.”

He thinks of Zuko’s nightmares after he had joined them. The wimpers would turn to sobs before he would scream himself awake, golden eyes wide in panic. He would curl in on himself and stalk down to the beach before anyone could comfort him.

Sokka thinks of the times they would spar together, when he would target Zuko’s scarred side to get an advantage and end up in the dust, looking up at Zuko with wide eyes after a flurry of attacks in response. As though Zuko had learned the hard way to make sure no one used his weaknesses against him.

And Sokka thinks of Boiling Rock Prison.

Sokka woke up to a strangled scream, and before he knew what he was doing he had darted out of his bed and grabbed Zuko, pinning his arms down before the dark room was lit up with fire.

He had heard the same scream every night since Zuko joined them, and his body reacted instinctually.

Zuko slumped into Sokka’s arms, his chest heaving from the terror. Sokka can’t see in the dark room of the guard’s quarters, but he managed to rest his cheek against the top of Zuko’s head and pull him closer.

It occurred to him that this is the closest he had ever been to the firebender, and he shivered as Zuko breathed against his neck rapidly.

A few guards had stirred, but none looked their way. 

“Thanks,” Zuko whispered, his voice small and embarrassed. His hand clenched in the thin fabric of Sokka’s tunic and Sokka stared at it. He knew he should let Zuko go and return to his own cot before the rest of the guards woke up.

His arms tightened around Zuko. “Don’t worry about it,” he whispered back. The firebender looks up at him and Spirits , those eyes were pretty. 

Zuko’s face was soft and vulnerable in the morning light, and something about the way the firebender still shook from his nightmare made Sokka want to hold on tighter.

“I…” He cleared his throat and tore his eyes away from Zuko’s.  “I get nightmares too, buddy.” he admits. “That’s why I need more beauty sleep.”

Zuko met his eyes with an unwavering look. “I know,” he says simply. He looked away, his expression unreadable. 

Sokka decided to stay in the moment a little longer. He didn’t realise how much he needed this. He was cuddling with the Fire Prince, with Zuko . Reality should have been crashing down around him, but all he hears is the quiet snoring of the other guards, and Zuko’s unsteady breathing. He wasn’t pulling away.

Katara snorts, quickly covering her mouth with her hand delicately. “Of course he would say that.”

Sokka snaps out of his thoughts, hoping his sister ignores the heat rising in his face. Luckily for him, Aang wasn’t here. He swears sometimes that kid can read minds. Not that there was anything to read.

 “This has been a great little pow wow. Why did you have to rudely wake me up so early for it?”

Katara shrugs. “I think you should help Zuko.” When Sokka doesn’t interrupt her, she continues, “He’s working too hard, probably getting too dramatic and serious. You know what he’s like, Sokka. I think he could use a little bit of you right now.”

Sokka stares out the window at the endless white of the South Pole. He had walked around the village a million times since the end of the war, and as much as he hated the sight of snow sometimes - no matter how suffocating it could get - he wasn’t sure if he could leave . And for the Fire Nation ?

“Katara, I can hardly help myself.” It’s a quiet admission, and he’s grateful for the gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Sometimes the best way to solve your own problems is to help someone else,” she tells him. “Besides, I think a change of scenery can only do you good.”

Sokka doesn’t look away from the window. It’s easier to look out into the endless white than to face the gentle concern on Katara’s face. 

“I know it’s scary, but it’s just Zuko.”

Sokka scoffs. “I’m not scared,” he denies, even as it feels like a lie dripping from his tongue. He turns back to his sister. “ Zuko should be scared. Do I look like I can fit in with Fire Nation royalty? I’m going to make a fool of us both.”

She smiles at him. “Great! I’ll write to Aang and tell him to come pick you up. We can both go.”

Sokka rolls his eyes as she stands and heads for the door. “I see how it is,” he grumbles. “You’re using me to get your boyfriend back down here.”

She laughs, and it's a beautiful sound breaking through the dark storm of Sokka’s thoughts. “You got me,” she retorts, leaving his door open as she skips down the hall.

Sokka stares at his bed. Maybe it is time for a change in scenery.

Having Aang around isn’t as fun as Zuko thought.

His duties don’t stop just because the Avatar is in town, and he has the workload of about twelve men to get through each day, as well as finding replacements for the sages and ministers he had dismissed.

Aang isn’t helping either. He bursts into Zuko’s chambers with an armload of baked goods in the middle of a meeting with his new Minister of Education, throwing one at Zuko’s head and laughing gleefully when Zuko catches it before it ruins his clothes.

“Zuko, let's go get breakfast,” he says, tugging at Zuko’s arm. He glances at the minister and grins apologetically. “You don’t mind if I steal the Firelord away, do you?”

Minister Juroh looks wary and irritated at the monk’s question, but he just stands and bows low to Zuko. “We can discuss the curriculum later in the week, Firelord Zuko.” He gives a smaller, more hesitant bow to Aang before exiting.

Zuko groans in annoyance. “Aang, I’m busy,” he snaps.

Aang shakes his head. “No one is too busy for breakfast!” he argues. “It’s the most important meal of the day. Now eat up,” he orders, sitting on the newly vacated seat and biting into one of the cakes himself.

Zuko stares at the cake in his hands for a moment and contemplates taking a bite. The idea of eating the whole cake made something in his stomach turn, and he put it down on the desk carefully.

“I already had breakfast,” he lies. It’s an easy, well-practiced lie he told Mai and his uncle every day - but Aang narrows his eyes suspiciously. Zuko swears he can read minds sometimes.

“Really?” he mumbles around a mouthful. “And what if I asked the kitchens?”

Zuko leans back in his chair in surprise. The fact that Aang - childish, sincere, innocent Aang - could see through his lies so easily was disconcerting.

“They would tell you that I already had breakfast,” Zuko replies easily, certain that Aang could hear the loud beating of his heart. 

Aang shook his head and swallowed his mouthful. “I already asked them, Zuko.” He tilts his head. “Why are you lying?”

Zuko felt that familiar flare of defensive anger and fought to keep it down, his face perfectly blank. “I’m not hungry,” he says shortly.

Aang throws another baked good at him. “Just one bite.”

Zuko looks at the hopeful, concerned look on the Avatar’s face and the tension leaks out of his shoulders. “Fine,” he sighs. 

He picks up the cake and takes a bite. Chewing it was more effort when his mouth wanted to spit the mouthful out as soon as possible. He swallowed it down with difficulty and glared at the rest of the cake.

Aang sighs and creates a mini-tornado with his finger, swirling it around Zuko’s desk and ruffling up the papers. “I’m going back to the South Pole.”

Zuko pushes down his disappointment and replies with an unaffected, “Oh?”

Aang slumps in his seat. “It’s Sokka.”

Zuko freezes, the cake in his hand dropping onto the desk. “Is he okay?”

“Katara and I are worried about him. He’s not the same sarcastic kid he used to be.” There’s pain in Aang’s voice and Zuko leans forward in his seat. “He doesn’t sleep, he doesn’t eat, he doesn’t leave the house. It was fine for a few months after the war, but…”

Zuko doesn’t need to hear the rest. “The war hasn’t ended for him,” he finishes.

Aang looks up, his eyes wide and young . “We just want the old Sokka back.”

Zuko clenches his hands against the unbidden memories. Azula, Ty Lee, and Mai had said the same thing to him once, after he came home with Azula. They wanted the old Zuko back, the young thirteen year old whose emotional outbursts were followed by bashful apologies instead of biting words.

Sometimes he wonders if his uncle misses the carefree child that played soldier with his cousin.

He looks up at Aang. “Sokka will never be the same again,” he says. Aang’s shoulders slump, but Zuko carries on. “And you shouldn’t want him to be. We’ve all been through a lot. You’ve had a tough two years, but Sokka and Katara were dealing with the war their entire lives. That's all they know.” When Zuko exhales, his breath feels hotter than it should be and he calms himself down. “Sokka’s a warrior without a war to fight in. He just needs time to figure out what he can do now.”

Aang perks up. “Thanks Zuko! So you don’t mind looking after him?”

“ What ? No, I-”

“I’ll be back soon!” Aang stands up and airbends a roll back into his arms when it almost falls to the ground. “And I’ve told Suki to make sure you eat.” Another cake flies towards Zuko, hitting him in the face and sliding onto the ground. By the time he looks back up, the Avatar is gone.

Zuko leans his head back against his chair and groans. With everything else going on, he doesn’t have time to look after Sokka. And as hard as it was to admit it, he was barely taking care of himself. 

Zuko takes a deep breath and plunges himself back into paperwork. And if his mind wanders to painful blue eyes and sarcastic jokes, that's between him and Agni.

Sokka breathed a sigh of relief the moment Appa landed in the palace courtyard. As much as he loved the great lump of fur, he had forgotten the discomfits of camping outdoors and was ready for a warm bath. No one could deny him that, right? He was friends with the Firelord.

Zuko was waiting for them already, his head bowed in serious discussion with Ty Lee, but the moment Aang leaps off Appa, he turns to them.

Sokka helps Katara down from Appa. She runs forward and joins the hug between Aang and Zuko, and Sokka’s heart twists at Zuko’s small, surprised laugh.

By the time Sokka reaches them, Katara is telling the Firelord all about the journey, Aang butting in excitedly with his own anecdotes.

Zuko stands in between them, a pillar of quiet between two eager kids. He’s grown up, though it shouldn’t surprise Sokka as much as it does. They all have, but Zuko-

He’s taller, his hair is longer, and his robes hold a regality that ages him about a decade. But when Zuko meets his eyes, those golden eyes are still as young and sad as Sokka remembers.

“Hey!” Aang interrupts. “Did you eat today?” He scans the nearby Kyoshi Warriors, standing casually a distance around Zuko. “Suki! Did he eat today?”

Sokka can see Zuko tense up and throw an uncomfortable look at Katara and Sokka, so he decides to step in.

“Aang, you’re spending too much time around Katara. Stop mothering the Firelord,” he reprimands. Zuko sends him a look of relief. “He probably has servants for that.”

“It’s good to see you, Sokka,” he says quietly, stepping forward for a hug. 

Sokka returns it tightly, before stepping back and throwing an arm around Katara. “It’s good to see you too. Way easier to get into the city now that no one wants to kill us,” he adds.

Zuko smiles and scratches the back of his neck self-consciously. “I’m uh... glad,” he replies awkwardly. “Come inside, uncle has brewed your favourite tea.”

“Yes!” Aang jumps a few feet in the air abruptly, before lightly touching the ground. He grabs Katara’s hand and drags her towards the palace excitedly.

Sokka and Zuko look at each other for a moment before someone tackles Sokka with a hug.

“Suki!” he exclaims, hugging her back.

“Sokka, I missed you!” Suki pulled back and studied Sokka’s face. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Sokka looks over her shoulder, but Zuko has already started to walk towards the palace. “How is Zuko doing?”

Suki’s face falls slightly. “He’s as well as can be expected. I think he misses everyone.” She glances behind her. “He never stops working. I’m worried.”

Sokka pulls back. Suki worried about Zuko ? They were never close, so the sentiment surprises him. But he thinks about the bags under Zuko’s eyes, the weary set of his shoulders, and his gentle, strong voice. It would be hard not to worry about him.

Suki touches his face, and it brings him back to the present. “I’m also worried about you. How have you been?”

Sokka smiles, but it takes more effort than he has, and he drops it quickly enough. “I’m getting by,” he brushes off casually. “Nothing new here.”

Suki gives him a sad smile and squeezes his shoulders. “I’m glad you’re here. And I know Zuko is. I think you both need each other right now.”

The Firelord, needing a Water Tribe peasant like Sokka? Not likely. Not in his condition anyway. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he brushes off. “All I need right now is a hot bath and a bed that doesn’t fly.” Behind them, Appa grumbles in protest. 

Suki bites her lip and walks alongside him. “Do you find it strange being here?”

“In the Fire Nation? Yeah I do,” he admits.

“Yeah, I never imagined I would be protecting the Firelord. I just wish we had arrived sooner. Ty Lee was telling me about all the assassination attempts. That’s why Zuko dis-”

Sokka stops in his tracks. “ Assassination attempts ? Suki, what- who would… Assassination ?” 

Suki’s face goes through a few emotions before settling on unease. “Oh… Maybe I shouldn’t have told you that,” she replies awkwardly. “I’m sure the Firelord would have a good reason for keeping it quiet.”

Sokka throws his hands up in exasperation. “No he doesn’t ! How could he- How many assassination attempts, Suki?”

She shrugs and looks away. “Not that many. Just five or six.”

Sokka looks up at the palace entrance, where Zuko just disappeared into. He rubs his face tiredly. “That’s not ‘not many’. That’s pretty far from ‘not many’!”

Suki gives him a smug smile, though he has no idea what she has to be smug about. “Then I guess he’s lucky you’re here to protect him.”

“Right. Half a dozen Kyoshi Warriors and you rely on me to protect the Firelord?” He hangs his head slightly. “I haven’t been training since… Since my leg healed.”

Suki frowns at him. “Sokka… that’s okay. You’ve needed to rest. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

It feels like he’s been doing nothing but resting for months now. While the Kyoshi Warriors were protecting people, and Zuko has been spending the last year avoiding being killed , Sokka’s been lying in bed or walking aimlessly around the South Pole. 

“While you’re here, I can train you,” she offers quietly. “I’ve done recovery training after injuries quite a bit back home, and you never completed your training.”

Sokka looks up at her and he’s not sure what’s on his face but she gives him another gentle smile, before it widens into her usual cheeky grin. “And I’m sure Zuko wouldn’t mind training with you. Just like old times.”

They catch up to everyone quickly, and Sokka decides to push everything else away and enjoy this day. Iroh hands him a cup and Sokka peers into it suspiciously before sitting down in front of the old general.

“I believe thanks is in order, Sokka,” Iroh starts. “It warms my heart to see Zuko’s friends rallying around him in these troubled times. I know he doesn’t show it very well, but he’s grateful for your help.”

Sokka takes a sip and tries not to grimace at the onslaught of hot flavour. Ginger and cinnamon tea was his favourite, and he could already feel it warming him up.

“I don’t know if you should be thanking me,” Sokka replies truthfully. Iroh’s gentle eyes and warm smile has a way of coaxing hard truths out of him, but something about him makes Sokka’s secrets feel safe . “Aang and Katara just shipped me off because I was sulking too much. If anything, Zuko is helping me by giving me a change of scenery.”

Iroh puts his cup down and gives Sokka a serious look. “I know how you feel,” he states simply.

Sokka shrugs and takes another sip, welcoming the burn as a distraction from those old, knowing eyes.

“I truly do. I know how easily war can leak into your blood, and I know how hard it is to wash it out.” Iroh reaches over to put a hand on Sokka’s shoulder. “You are a young man with the world ahead of you. You can’t fight for the future until you stop losing to old enemies.”

Sokka’s mouth goes dry and he looks down into his cup, still lightly steaming with heat. “Is that how Zuko feels?” he finds himself asking. 

He casts a quick look at the Firelord, sitting peacefully between Katara and Suki while Aang re-enacted some adventure. Zuko looks happy, in a tired way that Sokka feels himself. As though he’s truly happy, but it’s taking so much out of him to push all the bad away and live in that moment . 

Iroh follows his gaze and lets out a brief, weary sigh. “Zuko is, in many ways, still fighting a war. My nephew has been at war with himself his entire life, and then his family. Now, he struggles with his own country.” He smiles sadly. “Sometimes life doesn’t give us a break. It will throw more and more at you until you break.”

Sokka frowns. “You think he’s going to break?”

Iroh pauses in thought for a moment. “I count my blessings that it hasn’t happened already.” He perks up and lifts his chin. “Anyway, I’m sure you’re weary after your journey. I won’t trouble you further with such serious discussion. More tea?”

Sokka nods wordlessly and stares at his friends while he sips his tea. Katara bursts into laughter as Aang slips over, and Zuko is sporting a small, hesitant smile. He looks downwards and Sokka follows his gaze to see Zuko’s hands shaking under the table before he clenches them into fists and looks back up, meeting Sokka’s eyes instantly.

Sokka musters up a smile, and it only serves to deepen Zuko’s frown. 

What a pair we make , Sokka thinks. Of course they can both see through each other’s bullshit.

Sokka makes things difficult.

Zuko doesn’t know what to do with him and he’s angry that Aang just shipped him off for Zuko to fix him as though that were a dignified thing to do to a person.

Truth be told, when Zuko first saw Sokka in the courtyard, it took all he had not to rush forward and make sure he was okay. Because he sure didn’t look it.

His skin was dull and his hair limp, but the expression on his face… as though he didn’t even have enough energy to fake it anymore. Here was the shell of a man waiting to be filled with anything else after the war.

Zuko has seen plenty of his own soldiers look like that, but to see it on a boy of eighteen - a boy his age - was hard. Especially when Zuko knew he didn’t look any better.

Zuko sat in his bed with his head in his hands and thought.

I could put him to work .

At first, Zuko is guilty at the thought. Sokka needs rest and recuperation, and Zuko’s job isn’t exactly relaxing.

But maybe a challenging task would bring back the brightness in his eyes. Something that would require Sokka’s strategic thinking, ideally a problem that can’t be solved conventionally.

Zuko dresses and hurries to his office. He flicks through policies and reports until he comes away with a small stack, and casts a quick glance at the sky. It was still early, so Sokka might not be awake.

Sokka was awake. He laid on top of the otherwise undisturbed bed, polishing his boomerang listlessly.

“Hey Zuko.” His glance at the window wasn’t lost on Zuko, and neither was the hint of surprise in his voice. “Good morning.”

“You’ve been awake all night,” Zuko states.

Sokka sits up and puts his boomerang down. “Can’t sleep,” he responds casually. “Maybe it’s my body reacting to the presence of so many firebenders. You know, the enemy,” he teases half-heartedly, waggling his fingers..

Zuko sighs and pulls a chair close to the bed. “I need your help,” he says, and it’s not a lie. He does need help, but he also needs Sokka to view this as a favour to Zuko . 

Sokka straightens. “How can I help?” he asks hopefully.

Zuko thrusts the papers at him and details what needs to be done. Sokka takes them hesitantly, flicking through them as Zuko speaks. 

“Am I… allowed to do this? These are some pretty important decisions for the Fire Nation, and I’m a Water Tribe chief’s son.” He waves the paper around. “I could seriously damage your nation with this.”

Zuko levels him with a flat look. “Yeah, I’m really concerned about you throwing away everything we’ve all done to bring peace to the world.” 

The thought hadn’t occurred to him that any of his friends would betray him, and he immediately put the thought out of his head.

A smile breaks on Sokka’s face, wide and pleasantly surprised. Zuko can tell it’s the first genuine smile that’s graced his face for a while, and the thought makes him grip the arm of the chair tightly, unable to look away. 

“Well, when you put it like that, I guess I can keep your nation’s secrets. For a price,” he adds innocently.

Zuko raises his eyebrow. “I thought I was doing you the favour of working alongside the Firelord. What more could you want?”

Sokka laughs, and Zuko’s grip tightens. “I want you to train with me.”

Zuko leans back in his chair in surprise. “What?”

Sokka shrugs, his smile fading into something darker and more self-conscious. He scratched his neck with the boomerang. “I’m… I’m a little rusty,” he admits, not meeting Zuko’s eyes. 

Zuko pauses for a moment, and takes a deep breath. “When was the last time you trained?” he asks gently.

Sokka still doesn’t look up. “Uh… When was the last time we trained?” The words come out awkward and hesitant. He hasn’t trained since the war ended .

Zuko straightens in his chair. “Okay,” he says simply. Sokka looks up, startled and searching for something in Zuko’s face. Judgement or concern. Zuko knows how suffocating both of those are, so he schools his features into something more neutral.

“How long did you train with Piandao again?”

Sokka is still staring at him, and it takes a moment from him to blink and focus on the question.

“About three days.”

Zuko hums in answer and looks around the sparsely-furnished room. “I’ll train with you,” he says. “ After you have done some work for me.”

“Did you seriously orchestrate this whole thing to get your own personal slave?” There’s amusement and something else in Sokka’s face, something heavy enough to make Zuko look away.

Zuko shrugs. “I need help,” he manages. It’s harder to say this time around, as though it’s more of an admission than a reason.

Sokka’s face clears, and his hand reaches across the gap between them, settling on Zuko’s knee. “That’s why I’m here.”

Zuko looks down at his hand, large and warm and comforting .

And then he can’t stop the wave of darkness from seizing his throat and his mind and digging its hooks in. You need help because you’re worthless, useless. And now you’re accepting it from a man who looks closer to the brink than you are? Pathetic.

The voice sounds disturbingly like his father’s, and he swallows against the lump in his throat. When he stands, Sokka’s hand falls back limply.

“I have business to attend to,” is all he can manage against the overwhelming despair. He chances a glance at Sokka - who’s sitting calmly on his bed, his face unreadable - before he flies out the door.

He doesn’t get far before the panic sets in. His entire mind is a tornado of everything his father has spat at him, everything Azula taunted him with.

His chest tightens and suddenly his breaths are sticking in his throat, the oxygen desperate to leave his lungs. Not now, he pleads with his mind. I have meetings all day. My people can’t see me like this.

Zuko falls against the wall and slides down, his quick, shallow breaths panicking him further. There’s an unwelcome, electric energy in his fingers, making them shaky and uncertain in their movements. He reaches up to undo his topknot, and the physical relief releases a sob from his mouth. His eyes burn and he hastily wipes away tears before they fall.

Zuko takes a deep breath, and on the exhale a stream of flame follows, easing the pressure in his chest. He gathers the flame into his palm and extinguishes it with each exhale, and with each expulsion of flames the weight on his chest lightens.

A hand reaches forward from behind Zuko and he twists to catch it, his hands still sparking slightly from the fire. From so many assassination attempts, it comforted Zuko somewhat to know his body was still hypervigilant at his most vulnerable. 

He meets Sokka’s wide and surprised eyes and looks down at where his hand wrapped around his wrist, tight in panic. He drops his hand as though Sokka burned , and hunches his shoulders, staring dully at the ground.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that,” he says, too tired to muster any bite to the words.

Sokka stays frozen for a moment before sitting down next to Zuko. “Was it something I said? Or… something I did?” He looks at Zuko’s knee, where his large, warm hand has rested a moment ago. Zuko misses it keenly, surprisingly, suddenly.

He doesn’t look away from the ground. “No,” he answers honestly. It’s all he can give right now, and Sokka nods, looking forward.

“What do you do? After…”

Zuko distantly wonders how long had passed. The sun rises fast, and it’s already lit up the corridor.

You’re weak , his father’s voice whispers. It’s faint but Zuko still shudders and draws his shoulders together. And now he knows too.

“What do you mean?”

He can feel Sokka’s eyes on him. “Katara always takes care of me when I panic like that,” he admits quietly. “Makes my favourite food and makes sure I’m comfortable. Warm. That kinda thing.” He scratches at his head awkwardly, and Zuko lifts his head to stare at him.

“I don’t need… I just need a few minutes,” he says a little desperately. “I don’t do anything , I can’t…” He gives up on words and searches the ground for his headpiece.

“Zuko, wait .” Sokka gingerly touches his shoulder, as though he might break apart or lunge at him, and Zuko doesn’t know which is worse. Sokka looks upset, brushing his hand through his loose, shaggy hair and exhales shakily.

“I won’t let you go through this alone. I know how horrible you feel right now.” He turns his body fully towards Zuko. “Can we just - Can I hug you? It helps.”

Zuko thinks of those mornings before the war ended, waking up amidst the scared cries of another, and sometimes his own. He always stomped away from prying eyes, but he knew how carefully his friends took care of each other.

He remembers waking up in Boiling Rock, and this time his shudder isn’t so bone-chilling.

“Okay,” he answers, his voice a raspy mumble from all the fire-breathing,

Sokka went red immediately, and he places his hands heavily on Zuko’s shoulders, pulling them chest to chest and wrapping his arms around him. Sokka’s chin digs into Zuko’s shoulder. He can hear every shallow breath, feel the tight line of Sokka’s shoulders tense.

Zuko returns the hug gently. He’s sure Sokka gets plenty of hugs between his family and the Avatar, but he also thinks maybe Sokka needs this hug.

Zuko only allows himself to be hugged for a few minutes before he stands on shaky legs. His eyes land on everything but Sokka as he barks out something about meetings and strides away.

Sokka stands in the hallway and thinks about the tentative way Zuko had hugged him back, his strong arms gentle and careful. As though Sokka had needed the care, when he had just walked out to see Zuko covered in flames, still hyperventilating.

Sure, he had calmed down the fire by the time Sokka had reached him, but it was still terrifying to witness.

He runs a hand through his hair and groans. What am I doing here? Were they just expected to piece each other together while everyone did their jobs, fostered peace, brought about change? 

Sokka glances down at the hairpiece glittering with the sun’s light on the floor, and bends to pick it up. He sees Zuko’s bone-deep, tired face as he asks Sokka for help. How he literally had a panic attack after asking for help.

It takes him about three hours to sort through and fix all the problems in the bills and reports Zuko gave him. Everytime his brain diverted to the bed or tried to untangle the mess in his head, he glanced up at the hairpiece on the desk and refocused his thoughts. He was doing this to help Zuko , to get him smiling again, to combat those dark rings under his eyes and the tense set of his shoulders.

And by the time he finishes, his mind feels more awake than it has in weeks. He sits back in his chair and twirls the brush in his hand.

There’s a gentle and familiar knock at the door, but Katara doesn’t wait to enter.

“Sokka!” she exclaims, surprised to see him out of bed. She narrows her eyes. “Did you sleep last night?”

Sokka shrugs and pushes away from the desk, turning in his chair to face her. “Not really. This place echoes a bit, you know?”

She leans against one of the pillars in the room and gives it a look-over. “That’s why I’m here actually. Zuko stopped me on the way to a meeting and we had a riveting discussion about interior design.”

“Interior design?” Sokka asks blankly.

“Yeah! You know, get some furs and pelts, maybe even a Water Tribe bed instead.” He’s pretty sure she hasn’t been this excited talking to him for a while, and he relaxes in her presence. “I mean, he said he’d pay for it, so you could probably get some really fancy stuff in here.”

Sokka gives her a wicked grin. “So what you’re telling me is that the Firelord himself personally gave us permission to go shopping on his dollar?”

Katara laughs delightedly. “We can drag Aang along. You know, for his negotiation skills .” They both snicker at the memory of Aang bartering with pirates, and everything is perfect in that moment.

“How was Zuko when you saw him?” Sokka asks, glancing at the hairpiece. Katara follows his eyes and frowns.

“He seemed grumpy,” she answers. “Why?”

He shrugs, suddenly wanting to talk about anything else. The sight of Zuko, panicked and on fire in the hallway, gently winding his arms around Sokka’s middle… It felt wrong to share it with someone else. 

He holds onto Zuko’s moments of vulnerability with a tight grip. They were his moments, and no one else. He tried not to think about it.

“I think being grumpy comes with the job description,” he says instead.

“Why do you have his hairpiece?” She glares at him with her hands on her hips. “Sokka, that’s a royal artifact, you can’t just-”

“I didn’t steal it!” he protests. “He left it behind. Do I seem like a common thief to you?”

A few emotions pass on Katara’s face before she settles on amusement and smirks. “Not with your stealth skills. What have you been doing all day?” She glances behind him at the mess of papers on his desk.

“Zuko gave me some problems to solve.”

She frowns, peering at the papers before giving up and walking over to the desk, rifling through the papers. “Huh.”

“What?”

She shrugs. “He knows you really well,” she answers, still reading. “Every bill and report here has issues that only you could fix.”

He snatches a report out of her hand. “He’s a smart guy,” he answers. It’s meant to come out casually, but Katara looks at him with her brows drawn together, as though he had admitted something rather than stating a fact.

She leans back and crosses her arms, and Sokka swears some tension she had been holding in her body for months just leaks out. She stands straighter and the worry crease she was forming between her brows is nowhere to be seen.

“Ok,” she says simply. “Want to go shopping tomorrow? You should probably get these to the Firelord before lunch.”

Sokka nods and starts gathering all the pages up in a semblance of order.

Aang chooses that moment to fly into the room on his glider, blasting the door open with airbending and gently falling to the ground. “Hey guys!”

“Aang can you not do that please? I could have been indecent!” Sokka protests.

Aang tilts his head at Sokka. “I didn’t know you could be decent , Sokka.” He turns to Katara while Sokka sputters. “I heard something about shopping! I haven’t been shopping in the Caldera markets in-”

“A century, yeah yeah, we get it old man,” Sokka mumbles. 

“What’s that?” Aang asks eagerly, peering at the papers in Sokka’s arms. “Reports? Did Zuko- he wouldn’t even let me help him. Did you have breakfast with him? Is he eating?”

Sokka’s patience shatters. “I don’t know!” he snaps. “The Firelord doesn’t need a babysitter , Aang!”

“Sokka, that’s not-”

“Is that why you brought me here? Just shove the two broken guys in a room together so you don’t have to deal with it anymore? Get us to fix each other while you’re going on adventures?” 

He drops the papers abruptly, his hands shaking with anger and frustration. But after one look at Katara and Aang, their eyes wide and taken off-guard, he pushes it away. The anger leaves his body all at once, and he drops to the ground, picking up the papers.

“Sokka,” Katara says gently. 

He doesn’t look up until he’s gathered all the reports. He’s breathing heavily, and makes an effort to control it.

“I’m sorry,” he manages. “I know you… I know you guys-”

Aang steps forward and hugs Sokka. “We know you don’t mean it.” He returns it with a small smile.

“We aren’t… I guess we kind of brought you here to keep an eye on you both,” Katara admits. “But Sokka… you needed to get away from the South Pole.”

“And Zuko needs people to look out for him,” Aang explains awkwardly. “We don’t mean to-”

Sokka deflates, leaning against the desk. “I know. I didn’t mean it. It’s… strategic.”

Katara pats his back comfortingly. “We are all struggling. You’re never alone,” she says vehemently, as though she could drill the idea through Sokka’s thick skull. “And you’re in control. When you want to leave, leave. If you want to stay, I’m sure Zuko will let you stay as long as you need to.”

Sokka looks down. His hands are still shaking and he clenches them into fists. He’s not used to this anger and frustration. He has been angry, yes, but it never lived in his body like this, always just below the surface and eager to lash out at everyone. 

He thinks, distantly, that now he understands Zuko just a little bit more. Because the anger rests inside of him, for him. Every day spent in bed, or staring listlessly at the horizon, built up over and over again until this simple truth emerged: Sokka is angry at himself.

And he thinks Zuko might know a bit about that (that thought breaks his heart a little).

It’s been a week of Sokka bursting into his office, his hands full of paperwork that Zuko barely had to skim over. 

The effects of Sokka’s help were almost immediate: after a week, Zuko found he had enough time in his days to train with Sokka. Aang and Katara were called away to the Earth Kingdom for a few weeks, so he knows the Water Tribe boy was deathly bored and lonely.

He takes his hairpiece off and ties his hair up with a simple band. He never found the one he lost in the hallway, and he should be more concerned about its whereabouts but he has three spares and enough regrets in his life already.

When he reaches the training room, Sokka is already there in his lightest Water Tribe clothes. He stares at his sword, black and glinting in the sunlight with such a sad expression on his face that Zuko stops in his tracks.

It isn't just sad, it was wistful, as though Sokka is thinking about something he’d never have again. It’s probably wrong, but Zuko thinks he looks pretty when he’s sad. 

His shoulders are relaxed and off-guard, but he still looks up at Zuko when he takes another step with guarded surprise.

His expression is broken by an easy smile that Zuko sees right through.

He draws his sword anyway and raises his eyebrows at Sokka. “Are you ready?”

Sokka stares back at the sword somewhat nervously. “I… Yeah,” he replies with obvious hesitation.

Zuko sighs and goes to sheath his sword. “Sokka, if you need more time-”

“ No ,” he snaps. “I’m ready.” He raises his sword. “Unless you’re scared?”

Zuko glares at him, pulling his sword back out. “Of you? Never.” The smile Sokka gives him feels like a win, and he savours it. “Have you been training with Suki?”

Sokka nods. “Hand-to-hand combat only. I’m not completely unprepared.”

Zuko smirks at him, pulling breath into all parts of his body and dropping into stance. “We’ll see about that.”

To begin with, Sokka’s moves are hesitant and uncertain, as though he isn’t confident enough to follow through. Zuko wins a few rounds before he starts to push harder. That’s when Sokka pushes back.

Zuko has the upper-hand, striking at Sokka until he’s on the defensive, walking him back against the wall. Their swords meet in a harsh metallic clang, and Zuko looks up just in time to see a purely innocent look on Sokka’s face. That was his only warning before Sokka ducks, sliding his sword out of the lock and spinning Zuko around so his back is to the wall.

Zuko drops his sword, squinting at the blade resting gently on his neck.

“Huh,” is all he can say.

He meets Sokka’s dark blue eyes, and the air leaves his lungs in a shaky exhale. He can’t look away, can’t get away - but his chest is empty of panic. Sokka’s free arm holds his shoulder in place and grounds him. 

Something heavier than panic rests in his chest, a comforting weight he doesn’t want to let go of. He’s surrounded completely by Sokka and he doesn’t want to escape.

Sokka’s eyes glance down for a moment, and Zuko is helpless against those roving eyes. When they come back to meet Zuko’s eyes, there's a smirk on his face.

“Looks like I’m not as rusty as you thought,” he breathes. His voice is deep and ragged from the fight, and Zuko’s entire body tenses. 

I want to kiss Sokka .

Luckily, he doesn’t ruminate on the thought for long, trapped between the cold wall and Sokka’s warm body pressing him in further. The door opens, and a worried voice calls out, “Your Majesty?”

Sokka’s shoulders tense, and Zuko peers over his shoulder at the guard dropped into a firebending kata at the door. It must have been too quiet in the training room. The guards tended to worry more than Katara sometimes.

He pushes at Sokka’s shoulder and the other man steps back, throwing a dark look at the guard.

“I’m fine,” he assures the guard. He’s grateful for the interruption, his mind clear now that Sokka’s body isn’t quite so overwhelmingly close. “Thank you.” It’s a clear dismissal, and the guard straightens and bows before leaving.

Zuko turns back to see Sokka staring at him, leaning against the wall he had just pinned Zuko to. “That was good,” he admits, ignoring the treacherous skip in his heartbeat. “You’re nowhere near as rusty as you think you are.”

Sokka doesn’t smile. He continues staring at Zuko as though he’s a puzzle to be solved. “You knew what you were doing.”

Zuko feels his face get hot, and he turns away to pick up his sword. “I personally trained my guard in firebending.” He glances at Sokka but can’t hold his gaze. “How to draw it from their own chi instead of rage and anger. Many of them… are like you. They just need firm guidance.” 

Sokka straightens and bows with the sign of the flame. Zuko’s eyes widen, and he wordlessly watches a small smile spread on Sokka’s face as he rises. “Thank you, Sifu Hotman,” he teases.

Zuko frowns and turns away, grabbing a towel from a nearby shelf and wiping his face with it. “Don’t call me that.”

“Sifu Hotlord?”

Zuko throws the towel at Sokka, who laughs and dances away. He sheaths his own sword and throws the towel back gently.

Lunch . The word stays stuck on Zuko’s tongue. He should offer lunch to Sokka. That’s what friends do after sparring, right? He remembers eating with Aang and Sokka after sparring, before the war.

Zuko should be famished, and he is . But his stomach twists at the idea of eating, so he doesn’t offer lunch. He knows Sokka has trouble eating, so he’s caught off-guard by his next words.

“You wanna grab something to eat?” Sokka wipes his own face and throws the towel in the basket by the door.

Zuko’s eyes snap up to meet his, his head empty of a reply.

Sokka’s face softens. “You should be hungry after all that working out,” he says softly.

Zuko looks away. “I’m fine,” he bites out. His body welcomes the frustration, but he turns away from Sokka before it’s directed at him.

“Zuko, let's just grab a snack,” Sokka tries.

“I have work to do.”

“Then I’ll bring them to your office.”

Zuko whirls around. “I said no , Sokka!” It’s a small explosion, all things considered.

Sokka only shrugs and holds his hands up as he backs away to the door. “I’ll see you in half an hour, okay? What are your favourite snacks? Wait, don’t tell me! I’ll guess.”

Zuko gapes at him for a moment, before throwing the towel again, this time more aggressively. It lands a few feet in front of Sokka’s grinning face, and Sokka bows deeply before flying out the door.

Zuko drops his head in his hands and wishes - not for the first time - that Aang had left Sokka in the South Pole.

Sokka brings food to the Firelord every few hours, every day.

And everytime Zuko complains, Sokka explains with complete innocence that he can’t be sparring with a near-starved Firelord.

The look Zuko gives him reminds Sokka of his own reluctance to eat, so he does his best. Even when he wants to throw his food on the other side of the room, or he wants to spit out his mouthful before he swallows, he forces it down. And it’s worth it when Zuko eventually finishes his own food, taking breaks to glare at whatever he’s eating before wolfing it down as though it had personally offended him. Knowing Zuko, it probably had offended him somehow.

Katara had told him once before, in the South Pole, that it’s easier to eat if you snack throughout the day, instead of having big meals. So he only brings small baked goods and pieces of fruit, and he refuses to leave the room until Zuko is finished.

Sokka hasn’t missed how Zuko will refuse to eat until Sokka starts. 

He’s sitting across from Zuko, eating an apple and watching Zuko with careful eyes as he finishes his own apple, staring down at the paperwork on his desk. A few strands of his hair have escaped his hairpiece, framing his face delicately. 

Sokka thinks of the hairpiece he still has on his desk. It’s definitely too late to return it now without it being awkward, and the idea of losing it makes his chest twist uncomfortably.

“Have you hired more council members yet?” he asks through his mouthful.

“Yeah,” Zuko mumbles, throwing the apple core in a nearby trash can. “The new members start next week.”

Sokka beams and leans forward. “See, now you can have more free time for me to kick your ass in the training room.”

Zuko stares at him doubtfully. “Sure,” he answers. “Shouldn’t you be training with Suki this afternoon?”

Sokka shrugs. “She’s busy sorting out the guards for the party this weekend.” 

Zuko groans and leans back in his chair, closing his eyes. Sokka takes the opportunity to stare at him shamelessly. Zuko was pretty in a way that leaves Sokka breathless. He hasn’t stopped noticing since the first time they sparred together.

Sokka hasn’t been able to pin him down since, but not for lack of trying. Something about the way Zuko moved so fluidly with his sword made Sokka want to just grab him and hold him in place, to look his fill and figure why he felt so caught off guard around the firebender. Why his heart beat hard and fast around him, even when they were still.

Why the air between them could feel so electric it made Sokka wonder if he was bending lightning, when they’re pressed close and breathing heavily as one-

“I really don’t have time for this party,” Zuko says weakly.

Sokka wants to reach out and comfort him, but he stays where he is, unsure how welcome the gesture would be. 

“You had this party last year, didn’t you?” It’s the two-year anniversary of the end of the war, and Sokka tries not to think about where he was today, two years ago.

He was a fifteen year-old kid preparing to overthrow the Firelord. 

And now he’s sitting in the Firelord’s office, feeding him apples. Wasn’t really part of the original plan, but Sokka’s adaptable.

Zuko opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling. “Yeah. But this year I’m opening the party up to the rest of the world.” He already sounds tired just talking about it.

“Why didn’t you do that last year?”

Zuko looks at him then, and Sokka exhales as those golden eyes burn into his. “It was too dangerous,” comes his quiet reply. 

Of course, Sokka’s mind supplies. He was too busy being assassinated last year .

“And it’s not dangerous now?”

Zuko shrugs and goes back to staring at the ceiling. Sokka’s eyes follow the delicate line from his jaw down his throat and he swallows hard.

“Marginally less so,” he mutters.

Sokka opens his mouth to reply, but the door opens after a short knock, and Mai stalks into the room. He straightens at her entry, craning his neck to see her unimpressed glare.

“Firelord Zuko,” she starts, bowing slightly. “Lord Iroh has requested your presence for tea.” She shoots another dark look at Sokka and he squares his shoulders defensively.

Zuko waves a hand dismissively and rises from his chair. “Thanks Mai.”

Sokka rises too, throwing his apple core in the trash can. The sun is low in the sky and his stomach grumbles with hunger. Since he’s started eating with Zuko more, his appetite has increased.

Zuko walks towards the door and stops, looking back at Sokka. “Did you… Did you want to join us?”

Mai scoffs and crosses her arms. Sokka is used to ignoring her attitude, but today he doesn’t, glancing back at the girl.

“No, thank you,” he answers politely. “I need to talk to Mai for a moment.”

Zuko frowns and stares at Sokka for a while before shrugging and leaving the room. Sokka and Mai follow him out - he’s learned that it’s improper to be in the Firelord’s chambers without him.

Zuko walks in one direction, and Sokka leads Mai down the other corridor. She’s quiet for a moment, before stopping Sokka with a hand to his shoulder.

“What do you want?” she asks dully, as though Sokka wasn’t worth her time. He tries not to take it personally.

“This party… How are you and the Kyoshi Warriors planning on protecting him?”

Mai huffs out an impatient sigh. “We’ve increased the number of guards in the palace and around his quarters. Suki is going to tail the Firelord all night, but he never stays at the party for long.”

Sokka frowns. “Why not?”

Mai shrugs. “He’s busy. I don’t know, do I look like his keeper?”

Sokka knows their relationship didn’t survive the war, but the boredom in her voice when discussing Zuko’s safety rubs him the wrong way.

“That’s literally your job!” he snaps. “What threats have you identified so far?”

Mai levels him with a bored look. “It isn’t your job,” she points out. “Why do you care so much? Just let me and the Kyoshi Warriors look after Zuko.”

Sokka opens his mouth and closes it again. She’s right - he isn’t part of Zuko’s security detail, he’s just a guy staying at the palace to learn how to be functional again.

But he remembers the way Zuko had whirled around before Sokka had even touched him, during a panic attack. That level of hypervigilance hurt Sokka’s heart. Zuko couldn’t even be vulnerable without fearing for his life. That wasn’t right.

He sighs and rubs a hand across his face. Mai had done her best to protect him in the two years since his coronation, and where had he been? Stuck in bed with a heavy heart and a broken mind.

“I just- I want to help,” he admits weakly.

Mai stares at him for a long while, all hints of hostility gone. “Why don’t you go talk to the royal kitchens about their suppliers and cooks? I was about to head there now but if it will stop your whining, you can do it for me. I don’t care,” she says flippantly. She walks quickly away from Sokka, but then she stops and turns, and the look on her face is uncharacteristically soft.

“I’m glad he has someone looking out for him,” she says quietly. “But if you question my ability to keep Zuko safe again, it will be the last thing you do.”

Sokka watches her walk down the corridor and disappear into shadows just as gloomy as herself. His thoughts are a disordered mess, so he pushes them all away and heads towards the kitchens, wishing he talked to Suki instead.

Zuko can’t sleep.

The palace is alive with servants bustling around, preparing for the party tomorrow. A thin stream of music follows him throughout the corridors, comforting if unfamiliar.

Music never played in the palace while he was growing up.

His footsteps echo through the corridors, but it isn’t enough to distract him from the letter on his desk, across the palace.

Toph’s parents were coming to the party.

Of course, Zuko has always known of the Beifong family. He remembers the surprise when he found out that Toph was their daughter; the Beifong’s best-kept secret.

He also remembers his conversation with Toph. Her confident voice as she described every aspect of her noble life, from complete supervision to complete control over her actions.

It’s a lot quieter on the second floor. Servants weren’t bustling through with decorations, guards weren’t being instructed on protocol. Zuko breathes in the peace and quiet.

He can’t refuse the Beifongs, especially since Toph is joining them. But he doesn’t feel comfortable having them in a home recently freed from his own family’s tight control.

The Beifongs had used fear to control their daughter, just not quite as violently as Ozai had done to Zuko.

He finds himself staring up at his father’s stern, cruel face. All of the past Firelord’s portraits had been moved to the second floor. Iroh had done it without consulting Zuko, claiming that foreign diplomats didn’t need the reminder of the Fire Nation’s past as they were moving on from it.

He knows Iroh did it for him. So he wouldn’t have to stare at his face and be reminded of heavy hands, blazing hot fire, and eyes filled with hatred. So he wouldn’t have the ghost of his fathers words following him through the palace.

A door squeaks open down the hallway, and Zuko continues to stare up at the portrait as Sokka comes to stand by his side.

“He’s kind of ugly,” Sokka states, squinting at the portrait.

Zuko turns to look at him with wide eyes. “ What? ”

Sokka shrugs. “I guess he could be good-looking. I mean he is your father and everything, but all I can see is…” He hesitates.

“Cruelty,” Zuko finishes for him. He stares back up at the portrait. “When I was a boy, my father saved my life.” 

“Oh,” Sokka replies. 

“He wasn’t always so bad,” Zuko explains. “I almost drowned, and he just plucked me out of the water and carried me back to my mother.” Zuko closes his eyes against the haunting picture. “I remember him being scared. I don’t know why.”

A silence settles over them comfortably for a while before Sokka speaks up, his voice quiet and serious. “Power can corrupt people, I guess. He may have loved you once.”

Zuko glances at Sokka, who stares back at him with steady blue eyes. “How do I know it won’t corrupt me?”

Sokka raises his eyebrows. “Are you seriously worried about that?” he asks gently.

Zuko can’t look away. “I guess not,” he says finally. He frowns at Sokka’s limp shoulders. “Can’t sleep?”

Sokka shakes his head. “Not tonight,” he admits. 

Zuko nods and looks at his father one last time before tearing his gaze away. Sokka is nicer to look at anyway. “Follow me,” he orders, unable to keep the demanding tone out of his voice. He’s been ordering people about all day, and sometimes it’s hard to shut off.

Sokka follows him downstairs silently, and Zuko tries to stop his heart jumping in his mouth every time their shoulders brush.

By the time they enter the gardens, Zuko is tense and annoyed, Sokka calm and tired beside him.

“I love this place,” Sokka breathes. Zuko turns to stare at the content look on his face. “I have been meaning to ask you about it.”

Zuko leads them to the turtleduck pond and they sit at the edge, Sokka leaning against a nearby tree.

“It’s been here since the palace’s construction,” Zuko explains, letting the tension drop from his body as he stares into the dark water. “It’s older than the fountain and most of the citadel. My uncle used to have tea here with his wife. He gave it to my mother after he left to take Ba Sing Se. She would spend hours gardening.” He smiles small and soft at the pond.

He can feel Sokka’s eyes on him. “So why can’t you sleep?” he asks eventually.

Zuko sighs deeply. “The Beifongs are on the guest list.”

Sokka straightens, and Zuko sits back to look at him. “Toph’s parents? Does Toph know?”

“They mentioned that she would be accompanying them. They practically sent a book’s worth of demands to cater to their ‘disabled daughter’.”

Sokka snorts and leans back again. “They’re fucking idiots. I don’t want them here,” he grumbles.

“Neither do I,” Zuko agrees quietly. “But the Beifongs are the most prestigious family in the Earth Kingdom. They have a claim to the throne. I can’t turn them away.”

Sokka snickers. “Imagine Toph as the Earth Queen.”

“I’m sure I’d have an easier time with her than Kuei,” Zuko mutters.

This earns him a rare, loud laugh, and he looks over at Sokka affectionately. 

“You really don’t like that guy.”

“ He doesn’t like me !” Zuko protests defensively.

Sokka holds his hands up with a shit-eating grin. “Okay, okay.” He closes his eyes and rests his head against the tree trunk, and Zuko stares . “I just can’t imagine someone not liking you.”

“You managed pretty well for a while there,” Zuko replies dryly.

“Fair point. Have you actually had a meeting with the guy, or is it all passive-aggressive correspondence? Because you can come across as pretty snippy in your letters.”

“I do not!” Zuko snaps.

Another laugh. Zuko doesn’t know if he’s being made fun of or not (he’s always been bad at telling), but if it gets more laughter out of Sokka, he doesn’t care.

There’s movement to their left, and Zuko’s head jerks up in panic before he realises it’s just Suki, waving at him from the door. He probably worried everyone by disappearing at this hour, so he waves back and settles into the grass.

She bounces towards them and sits next to Zuko, bumping his shoulder with hers. “Have you eaten today?” she asks gently.

Sokka opens one eye to peer at Suki before closing it again. “Not enough, if you ask me.”

Zuko rolls his eyes in exasperation. “I had lunch,” he explains. “And snacks.” He doesn’t say that he looks forward to eating now, looks forward to Sokka entering his room without knocking, a steely glare in place as he prepares to force the Firelord to eat.

He remembers a few weeks ago, when he would get so frustrated trying to eat that he had set the dining room on fire. 

He tears some grass up grumpily.

Suki laughs. “Well, you’re not wasting away anymore so I won’t push it.”

“Thank you, you’re so considerate,” Zuko replies sardonically. “I didn’t realise Kyoshi taught her warriors restraint.”

Sokka snorts. “When did you get funny?” His voice is rough with fatigue, and Zuko looks away.

“You just haven’t paid attention until now,” Suki teases him. “I’m always telling him if the Firelord thing doesn’t work out, he could do stand-up comedy.”

Sokka raises an eyebrow and gives Suki a sleepy smile. “Don’t joke about that. He might do it.”

“I wouldn’t,” Zuko protests. “I don’t… What is stand-up comedy?”

Sokka and Suki burst out laughing, and Zuko scowls before turning away to tear more grass up, giving up on getting a clear answer.

Sokka reaches out to touch his shoulder. “Everyday you amaze me,” he struggles to say through his laughter, wiping away a stray tear. Suki gasps for air and smacks him on the shoulder.

“It’s not that funny,” Zuko mutters, whacking Sokka’s hand away before he leans into it.

His reaction serves to make the two laugh harder, and he struggles in vain to hide the smile that spreads across his face.

And for the first time since Suki first arrived, Zuko is at peace with needing them. Needing all of them, the Kyoshi Warriors, his ‘Team Avatar’, his uncle. 

He would probably still be staring at the portrait of his father, ruminating on dark thoughts, if Sokka hadn’t turned up.

Suki bumps her shoulder with Zuko again before standing, smoothing out her uniform. 

“I’ll leave you two to it,” she says, and if Zuko was a people person he’d be able to tell what that tone of voice meant. But he’s not, and it only makes him scowl at her. “It’s time for the guard to change. Don’t stay up too late, guys. Big day tomorrow!”

She slips into the shadows silently, and Sokka clears his throat of the last vestiges of laughter.

They settle into an easy silence for a while, Zuko staring at the crescent moon reflected in the still pond water.

“Do you miss her?” he asks suddenly. He doesn’t know where the question comes from or why his heart beats faster after asking it, but he turns to see Sokka’s answer anyway.

Sokka cracks an eye open. “Suki?” He shrugs. “She’s my best friend. I have nothing to miss.” His words are slurred with sleep, but Zuko is still hesitant to leave. It’s like the night has held its breath for him, and he’s loath to waste such stillness by marching Sokka to his room.

He thinks of Mai and understands. He thinks of all of his friends and understands. Mai would be there for him through anything, just as Suki would for Sokka. Relationships often don’t end. Rather, they transform into something else, something better - or worse. 

Zuko looks at Sokka, snoring lightly in his sleep, and the tightness in his chest squeezes him hard. He finally identifies this feeling as longing , and it’s enough to make him lean back on his hands in surprise.

He wants Sokka.

He wants Sokka to burst into his office every day with food. He wants Sokka to pin him against the wall of the training room again, and he’ll incinerate any guard that interrupts them this time. He wants to hold Sokka when he knows he’s hurting. He wants to spend every sleepless night talking with him.

Zuko wants to shake Sokka awake and see those blue eyes staring right back at him,

Zuko wants, but he can’t have. Sokka is shining and beautiful and charismatic - everything he isn’t. Why would he entertain Zuko’s affections?

So he gently touches Sokka’s shoulder, lifts him up, and throws his arm around Zuko’s shoulders. Sokka mumbles and turns his head into Zuko’s neck.

Zuko barely breathes as he leads Sokka inside. He isn’t sure if they’ll make it up to the stairs, so Zuko leads him to his own chambers.

And maybe it was a little selfish of Zuko to watch Sokka sleep in his bed until he passed out in his own chair.

The party is huge. It seems like half the world is shoved into the dining room, and the sounds of chatter and laughter mix with the music in the background. 

Sokka sneaks another glance at Zuko, sitting straight in his chair and engaged in a conversation about trade with an Earth Kingdom ambassador. He’s regal and serious, staring at the ambassador as though hanging off her every word, and Sokka feels a twinge of irrational jealousy.

He remembers waking up in the middle of the night in Zuko’s chambers, warm and content in a Fire Nation bed for the first time since arriving at Caldera. Zuko had fallen asleep at his desk, and Sokka had been disappointed. He remembers debating in his mind for a long time whether or not he should have carried Zuko back to his bed and - left? Stayed?

He stares down at his lukewarm tea and pushes it away. He had done nothing, and when he woke at sunrise, Zuko had already left.

Zuko looks at him then, and Sokka wishes he wasn’t imagining the softness to his face as the Firelord grabs his tea. The liquid boils inside for a second before Zuko hands it back, steaming hot now. He turns back to his conversation as Sokka stares at him. He takes a sip and leans back in his chair.

Someone grabs his arm and he almost spills the tea, jumping to see Toph’s sightless eyes.

“Toph!” He stands and gives her a hug, and Toph squeezes him hard.

“Hey Sokka,” she greets. She’s tall now, almost as tall as Sokka himself. “It’s been too long.” Toph stomps the ground and Zuko’s chair turns abruptly, interrupting his conversation. “Hey Sparky.”

Zuko stands and gives her a hug, ruffling her hair. “It’s good to see you, Toph.”

“You say that now, just wait until my parents show up.”

Sokka scans the crowd as though he remembers what the Beifongs look like. “Where are they?”

She shrugs and steals some food off his plate. “Looking for me, probably.” Her voice is tense, and Sokka rests a hand on her shoulder. “They’ve been a nightmare.”

Zuko straightens up and glares at the crowd. “I suppose I have to introduce myself,” he says tightly.

“Sit down, Sparky,” Toph orders. Sokka bites back a laugh at how Zuko obeys unquestioningly at her tone, sitting down immediately. “They’ll come to you eventually. You’ve got enough brown-nosing to do tonight. Try and enjoy yourself.” Another stomp and the Earth Kingdom ambassador is moved across the table with a small yelp. Toph sits down at her vacated seat and flashes her a challenging smile before attacking the food in front of her.

Sokka sits back down at Zuko’s right. “Why did you come with them anyway, Toph?” 

She hunches her shoulders. “They asked,” she answered shortly. “They’re still my parents.”

Sokka opens his mouth to reply and promptly shuts it as Zuko’s hand touches his shoulder. Their eyes meet before Zuko looks back at Toph. His face is pink, and Sokka makes a mental note to make sure he doesn’t get too drunk.

Something reckless in Sokka wants him to press Toph further, especially if it meant Zuko would touch him again. Instead, he falls silent and sips his tea.

“So how have you two been?” Toph asks, facing them with a mouthful of food. “I heard you both went a little crazy there for a while.”

Zuko tenses up, and Sokka musters up the courage to throw an arm around his shoulders. Toph raises an eyebrow and Sokka knows she can feel his heart skip a few beats. “I’ve just been making sure this guy doesn’t work himself into an early grave.”

Zuko scowls, but makes no effort to shrug Sokka’s arm off. “We’ve been fine,” he answers. His face is even redder, so Sokka grabs his drink with his other hand and takes a healthy gulp. Zuko snatches it out of his hand and scowls.

Sokka always wonders why Zuko’s scowl makes him smile.

“Should have come to my academy. I would have whooped you both into shape.” She cracks her knuckles and grins.

Sokka looks around the room as Zuko replies, his arm warm where it rests on his shoulders.

He cranes his neck when he sees Toph’s parents, lavishly dressed and stressed.

“Found them,” he tells Toph quietly. “They’re looking for you.”

The Beifongs notice her and approach the royal dining table, bowing low to Zuko. Sokka removes his arm reluctantly.

“Firelord Zuko, it is an honour to meet you at last,” Toph’s father says respectfully. Toph sinks further into her chair.

“Toph, honey,” her mother calls. “Sit up straight in the presence of the Firelord.” Toph sinks lower and glares at the table.

Zuko offers them an awkward smile. “The honour is all mine.” He bows his head. “Your daughter is one of the finest friends I have, and I’m glad to finally meet her family.”

Toph’s mother blushes. “I do hope our requests haven’t been too much of a burden,” she says faintly.

Toph scoffs, and Zuko sits back down. “I have every faith that your daughter can navigate the palace without help,” he replies tactfully. “If there are any issues, she is welcome to talk to me directly.”

Toph snickers into her food, and her parents exchange a look before bowing again.

“Of course, Firelord Zuko. We just worry for our only daughter’s safety so far from home.”

It’s Sokka’s turn to scoff, and Toph’s father narrows his eyes at him.

“I think we should be ensuring the safety of everyone else,” he mutters, just low enough for Zuko and Toph to hear. He takes a sip of tea and subsequently chokes when Zuko’s hand rests on his knee under the table. He squeezes lightly to quieten Sokka, and he’s sure Toph can hear his heart beating, let alone feel it.

He stops himself from throwing his arms around Zuko, touching him and being touched by him. One small act of physical contact and Sokka had to hold himself back from causing a scene. 

“I share your concerns as well, but Toph is safe in the Fire Nation as long as I am the Firelord.” His words are clipped and stilted with annoyance. “Please, enjoy the party.” It’s an obvious dismissal, but one so polite that the Beifongs can only bow respectfully, casting a glance at their daughter before fading back into the crowd.

Toph releases a breath. “Wow. Thanks, Sparky.”

Zuko gives her a look of mild disbelief. “Did you really think I would have guards follow you around the palace and chop up your food for you?”

“No, but my parents are hard to say no to.”

“You’re not the Firelord,” Sokka points out.

Zuko frowns at his drink. “No. But you shouldn’t have to be the Firelord for your parents to listen to you.”

Toph shrugs and returns to eating. “A couple of years ago, they wouldn’t even let me walk the gardens unattended. Now I’m an international hero and metalbending teacher. Baby steps.”

Sokka scoffs, feeling the absence of Zuko’s warm hand keenly as he withdraws it to continue eating. “You? Taking baby steps? I’d hate to see it.”

The floor rises underneath him and he yelps as his seat is thrust in the air a few inches, holding the table to maintain balance. “Shut up, Sokka,” she replies casually.

Zuko smirks at him, and suddenly he needs to hold the table again. “Yeah, shut up Sokka.”

“Yeah Sokka, shut up.” Sokka looks up as Katara bends down to plant a kiss on the top of his head, before hugging Zuko and Toph. “Where’s our table, Zuko?”

Zuko shrugs. “You snooze, you lose. You two were meant to be here hours ago.”

Katara sighs and looks back at Aang, entertaining some Fire Nation children with his favourite airbending tricks. “I told him we didn’t have enough time to play with the cat monkeys.”

Sokka stands and bows performatively, gesturing at his seat. “For you, milady. I need to take a leak.”

Katara scrunches up her nose. “You’re all class, Sokka.”

Sokka walks back through the corridors after his bathroom break, his bladder relieved and ready for more tea. Though something about the way Zuko has been touching him, glancing at him, smiling at him… maybe he might want something stronger. If only to keep his heart from beating out of his chest.

He sees a flash of blue in one of the rooms on the way, and ducks his head in curiously. It’s one of the guest chambers, and they should all be empty while everyone enjoys the festivities.

He sees Azula, and his heart stops.

She’s looking down at the Kyoshi Warrior on the ground before her - not Suki thank god , and she hasn’t noticed Sokka yet. She bends down and starts undressing the Warrior, and Sokka ducks back out of the room, his heart racing.

He runs back down the hallway, following the sounds of the party. There’s some Kyoshi Warriors standing guard outside the dining hall, and he recognises Ty Lee’s eager voice chatting easily with the other Warrior.

“Ty Lee,” he hisses, grabbing her shoulders. She tenses and looks behind him. 

“What’s going on?”

Sokka wishes desperately that he had his sword - any sword - right now. 

“Azula,” he gasps out. “Azula is here.”

Ty Lee stiffens. “Where?”

Sokka jerks his head back down the hallway. “She didn’t notice me. She took down one of you guys. I think she’s going to disguise herself. Where’s Zuko?” His voice breaks with desperation. He wasn’t gone long, so Zuko should still be inside chatting with Katara.

Please be safe, please stay safe.

“He hasn’t left,” she answers confidently. “You need to tell Suki, she’s at the northeast entrance.” She starts off down the hall with her partner and Sokka grabs her arm. 

“We can’t cause a panic,” he reminds her. “Not tonight.”

The other Kyoshi Warrior nods and puts a hand on Sokka’s shoulder. “I’ll get everyone outside for the fireworks,” she assures him. “You need to find Suki and get Zuko out of here.”

Sokka wishes he could remember her name to thank her, but she slips into the dining hall before he can open his mouth.

Suki is easy to find, leaning against the door with Mai. She takes one look at Sokka and draws her fan. “What’s going on?”

“Azula. She’s in the palace.” He doesn’t miss Mai’s shaky gasp. “Disguised as a Kyoshi Warrior. ”

“Again?” Mai rolls her eyes, but Sokka knows her well enough to know she’s shaken. “No points for originality.”

“Ty Lee went after her,” he explains. “She was in the guest wing. How did she get out?”

Suki opens the dining hall door, and Sokka can see the crowd excitedly rushing out the door. No hint of panic, thank the spirits.

“Don’t worry about that now,” Suki orders. “Go in there and get your man. Mai-”

Mai strides off down the hall. “I’m going after Ty Lee,” she calls back dispassionately. “You need to stay here in case she gets past both of us.”

Suki exhales harshly. “Shit,” she mutters. She pushes Sokka through the door. “Go now. Shit .” She presses her fan into Sokka’s hand and draws another one. “I know you’ll keep him safe.”

Sokka steps into the room. Nearly everyone has left but Katara, Toph, and Zuko. Sokka scans the crowd for Aang, but knowing him he’d be the first out the door for fireworks.

The Kyoshi warrior Sokka had talked to is whispering into Zuko’s ear, and his gaze snaps up to meet Sokka’s immediately.

Sokka makes his way to the table, weaving through the crowd. Every touch and bump makes his heart skip. Azula wouldn’t be working alone on a night where the palace was opened to thousands of people.

Katara stands, her hand close to her waist where she kept her bending water. The Kyoshi Warrior nods to Zuko and follows the crowd out closely.

“What’s going on, Sokka?” Katara asks cautiously.

Sokka doesn’t look away from Zuko. “Your crazy sister is crashing the party.”

Zuko watches the Warrior with a troubled face. “Of course she is.”

Toph cracks her knuckles and grins. “Oh yeah. Can’t wait for this rematch.”

Katara and Zuko both go pale, and it goes unsaid that they both can wait for the rematch. Sokka thinks of the lightning scar on Zuko’s chest and grips the fan tighter. Azula’s unpredictability was her biggest threat, but she could always be relied upon to take the cheap shot.

There’s a light thud behind him and Sokka whirls around to strike the attacker in the face. Aang jumps back easily and holds his hands up. “Whoa, what’s going on? Why aren’t you guys watching the fireworks?” He smiles easily. “They’re so cool .”

“It seems Princess Sparky wants to get her ass kicked tonight,” Toph explains.

Aang tilts his head in confusion, so Sokka translates. “Azula is in the palace. She’s going to make a move on Zuko.”

Zuko buries his head in his hands. “She’s supposed to be locked up. I tripled the prison guard tonight. How-” He stops abruptly and takes a deep breath. “I don’t know how she expects to win.”

Sokka keeps his eyes on all the entrances as the last people exit the hall. “Maybe she doesn’t.”

“What do you mean?” Aang asks. He pulls his ceremonial amulet off and rests it on the table.

“She broke out of prison, broke into the palace, took down a Kyoshi Warrior and stole her uniform.”

“Again?” Toph mutters.

“She can’t have done any of this without help,” Sokka continues. “She hasn’t got the mental capacity, she’s not as cunning as she used to be. So we have to assume we have more than one assailant.”

Zuko sucks a harsh breath in. His hands light up with flame, casting warm shadows across his face. Sokka swallows around a lump in his throat. I can’t lose him .

“Even if the plan fails - “

“She’ll have destabilised the new Firelord’s reign,” Toph finishes. “And as a somewhat valid contender to the throne, all she needs to do is show that the new Firelord isn’t as strong as he should be, and she’ll have people allying with her to take the throne.”

Sokka whirls around to glare at Aang. “You see? I told you to take her bending. She’s one of the most dangerous benders we know.”

“Zuko wouldn’t let me!” Aang exclaims.

There’s a crash in the hallway, and they all fall silent.

“I’m pretty close to changing my mind,” Zuko says quietly.

“Someone’s coming,” Toph warns. “Three people, south entrance.”

They all turn as Suki bursts through the door, flanked by Ty Lee and the other Kyoshi Warrior. They stand rigid in the doorway, eyes wide and fearful before collapsing.

“Bloodbending,” Katara exhales.

Sokka’s muscles seize up in fear. He remembers the awful, painful pull of bloodbending. If the lack of control wasn’t terrifying enough, the tugging and tearing of his veins as they controlled his body were unbearably painful.

But it’s not the full moon. How-?

The person emerging from the doorway isn’t Azula. It’s a young man, his dark hair pulled into the braids of the Northern Water Tribe nobility, and he steps carelessly over Suki and Ty Lee’s frozen bodies. He had clearly arrived with the party, wearing ceremonial furs befitting a prince. Sokka is the Southern Water Tribe chief’s son, and he has no idea who this man is.

“Firelord Zuko,” he calls out. Sokka and Katara mirror him step by step. “It truly is an honour to meet you.”

“I’m sorry,” Zuko bites out, not sounding sorry at all. He’s always more fun when he’s snarky. “You have me at a disadvantage. I have no idea who you are.”

The man laughs. “Oh, I’m no one important-”

Sokka glares at him. “You’re right about that,” he snaps. He wishes desperately that Suki had given him a sword.

“She’s coming,” Toph murmurs.

The man casts Sokka a surprised glance. “My name is Batoq. I am one of Princess Azula’s… close personal friends.”

“You're a bloodbender,” Katara says with disgust.

Batoq raises an eyebrow at her. “Aren’t you?”

Aang raises his staff. “How are you bloodbending without the full moon?”

“West door,” Toph whispers. Sokka turns to face the west and stops. His body seizes up and before he can stop it, he’s swinging the fan backwards, towards Katara. He shouts her name and she ducks, kicking his leg out from underneath. He drops to the ground, still unable to move. His veins feel stiff and ready to burst, and he cries out, struggling to stand up.

“You should have done your research,” Katara snaps, gathering her water around her. “You can’t control me.” She shoots it towards him, sharpening the stream into three sleek daggers of ice.

Batoq bends the ice back to water, and Sokka feels the hold on his limbs loosen enough for him to stand back up.

The door on the west side of the room bursts open, and Azula stands there, a blue dagger of flame held up to Mai’s neck.

Zuko steps forward, the fire in his hands growing larger. “Azula.” Sokka expects his voice to be harsh with anger but it’s not. He sounds almost… sad. “Release her.”

Azula laughs, and Sokka wonders if she had always sounded so evil . Like, as a baby, babbling nonsense maliciously. 

“Oh, how nice of you to care, Zuzu, after dumping poor Mai the second you got your crown.” She taps her chin with a finger. “So cold for someone with such a fiery temper.” She glances at Katara, Sokka, and Aang, poised ready to attack at any second.

“Let her go ,” Ty Lee pleads, pushing herself up with considerable effort. “Haven’t you done enough to us already?”

Azula’s face twists in ugly outrage. “Me? Me? Mai betrayed me for Zuko ,” she spits. “Their relationship barely lasted a month. And you ... “ Azula holds her flame dagger closer to Mai’s neck. 

“I’d do it again,” Mai says, her voice strong despite the circumstances. “What are you hoping to achieve here, Azula?”

Azula nods at Batoq, and suddenly everyone is dropping to their knees, held in place by the inescapable weight of their own blood.

“Aang!” Katara rushes to her boyfriend’s side before Azula shoots off a stream of blue flame, stopping her in her tracks. She shoves Mai away and a slow, wide smile creeps onto her face.

“ My crown was stolen. My birthright was taken by a weak, traitorous usurper. Along with my father, my friends, my conquests. This wouldn’t have to happen if you would all just accept your fates. Then again, Batoq is here to ensure that you do, one way or another. If you can’t be controlled, you have to be eliminated. And I’ve been waiting for this.”

Katara’s eyes narrow. She bends the drinks out of everyone’s abandoned cups and glares at Azula.

Sokka strains to look up. He reaches across to touch Toph, still struggling on the ground, before Batoq notices and strengthens his hold, twisting Sokka’s arm behind his back. He cries out in pain, the blood rushing through his ears deafeningly.

“Sokka,” Zuko chokes out. “S-S-... Suki.” His chest heaves with the pain of talking. “She’s unarmed.”

Sokka looks back at Suki, grunting at the effort to turn his head. She and Ty Lee had struggled to their knees, and 

Toph cries out in frustration, managing to raise her fists and bang them on the ground. The ground shudders slightly. Batop strengthens his hold, but Sokka notices a drop of sweat trailing down his face. He can’t keep up this level of control over so many people for long.

He looks back at Katara, barely dodging a blast of blue flame and struggling to get closer to Azula. Azula has her entirely on the defensive.

Sokka takes a deep breath, his lungs burning with the effort to expand while someone has so much control over them. The next breath comes easier, and he’s able to lift his arm up slightly.

“Aang,” he groans out. “Distract him.”

White eyes meet his for a moment before they stutter back to his normal gray. Aang starts struggling, every limb shaking with the effort to move. Sokka hears something crack, and the Avatar screams in pain, his eyes flashing in and out of the Avatar state.

Batoq narrows his eyes and wipes his brow, turning to Aang and redoubling his efforts. His hands twist and contort, and Aang’s cries are strangled with pain.

He relaxes his grip on everyone long enough for Sokka to pull out the fan. He can’t throw it, but he rests it on the ground.

Toph takes a deep breath and slams the heel of her palm into the ground. The floor ripples like waves, and the fan is carried safely to Suki.

It all happens in the space of a breath. Suki grabs the fan, twists up and slices Batoq’s stomach with the sharp edge.

Batoq pauses for a moment, looking down in surprise before he collapses. Everyone slumps to the ground in relief.

Azula growls in feral anger as they pick themselves back up. Katara has her backed into a corner, and her eyes flick around the room in panic as she tries to find an exit.

Zuko stands up tall and straight to face her. “It’s over, Azula,” he rasps out, his voice racked with pain.

The panic fades, and time stops. Azula reaches into her pocket, and Sokka hears Mai scream something, lost in the sound of his heart beating furiously in his ears. 

Azula’s eyes snap up to Zuko, but the smile she gives him is almost… sad.

Sokka’s achy limbs are forgotten instantly.

Zuko’s eyes widen, stepping to dodge but he’s too slow , too busy staring at his sister’s sad smile to notice her reach in her pocket.

Spirits, not him . Sokka stares at those golden eyes and he can’t bear to see them close, see that brilliant flame extinguished.

He lurches forward, bowling Zuko to the ground. There’s a sharp, hot pain in his side. He wonders faintly if he was struck by lightning before they hit the ground.

Zuko blinks up at the ceiling for half a second before he pushes up from the ground. There’s a heavy weight on top of him, and he stares at Sokka’s slumped body.

“Sokka,” he breathes. Sokka doesn’t move.

Azula cackles delightedly and Zuko hears a thud, but all he can think is please don’t be dead . Agni, not him.

“Sokka,” he says again, louder even as his voice cracks.

Everything is unbearably still, and then Zuko feels a hot breath against his arm, and he breathes again.

Someone kneels down beside them, and Katara’s small hands are pulling Sokka off Zuko. He scrambles out from under Sokka’s body as Katara lies him on his back, and when he sees the knife in his side, dread fills his body.

“No, no, no, no,” he whispers. Katara spares him a glance before yanking the knife out.

Sokka cries out, his eyes flying open. “ Fuck ,” he swears weakly. “Warn a guy, will you?” His voice is slurred and he winces in pain, his eyes rolling back into his head.

“Hold his hand, Zuko,” Katara orders. He looks up at her, but despite her calm voice her lip trembles as she draws her water out, pressing it against his side.

Zuko grabs Sokka’s hand and looks down at him. Sokka’s eyes keep slipping shut, and Zuko squeezes hard. He’s sure it’s painful, and he looks up from where Katara is healing him to see those blue eyes, clouded with pain but still staring right at him.

“This wouldn’t have happened if I had my boomerang,” he rasps, and Zuko wants to collapse in relief but he just squeezes his hand harder. 

Katara sits back and wipes at her eyes. “That’s on you for not bringing it” she says, laughing around a sob. She looks up at Zuko. “He’s okay. Aang and I need to get him to a bath so I can heal the rest. You and Toph need to clean this place up before the fireworks finish.”

Zuko doesn’t look away from Sokka. “How can- Are you sure?” He looks up at her desperately. “I can’t… leave him if-”

Katara levels him with a serious look. “I know your experiences with sisters is - violent. But I will not let anything happen to my brother.” The look softens, and she rests a hand on Zuko’s shoulder. “Either of them.”

Zuko can’t bear the soft look on her face after that admission, and he looks back down at Sokka. Aang falls to the ground beside him and grabs his free arm. “Is he going to be okay?” he asks timidly as everyone else gathers around.

“He’s fine,” Katara reassures him.

“Until Sparky tears him a new one,” Toph states. She earthbends the floor roughly back to how it was. “We’re going to need cleanup on aisle five. Blood everywhere.”

Zuko tunes them all out when Sokka’s eyes open again. He reaches out his free hand and rests it against Zuko’s chest, pressing hard. Zuko closes his eyes and breathes. Sokka’s hand is covering the very spot Azula was aiming for with Mai’s knife.

His eyes fly open and he scowls down at Sokka, before reluctantly letting go of his hand and stepping back. His thoughts are rushing around his head - fear, panic, dread, despair, and relief all warring with each other in his mind. And anger - at Azula, at the bloodbender, at Mai for allowing herself to be disarmed, at Sokka -

He turns away and meets Suki’s eyes. “Get the servants in to clean. With absolute discretion . What happened here tonight doesn’t leave this room.” He flicks a glance at Batoq, his useless life cut short right where Zuko eats dinner every night. “Take him down to the basement for now.”

Azula lay crumpled on the ground. If Zuko had to guess, he’d say Katara punched her hard enough to knock her out. He wishes he had done it instead.

“Take Princess Azula into custody and triple the guard. And quickly. The fireworks are almost over.”

Suki bows, casting one last concerned glance Sokka’s way before delegating to Ty Lee and Mai.

Toph grabs a metal serving spoon and bends it around Azula’s wrist before two Kyoshi Warriors pick her up and drag her out of the room. Zuko watches his sister’s lifeless form dully.

“ Aang ! Your shoulder is dislocated, you can’t- Toph, here you help me with Sokka.” Katara glares at Aang, who shrugs sheepishly before wincing in pain from the movement. “Rest,” she barks out.

Toph and Katara carry Sokka out and Zuko watches them carefully, ignoring the pull to follow, to make sure Sokka’s alright because he won’t know unless he’s there to see it.

Aang clasps his shoulder with his good arm. “You know Katara will take care of him.”

“I know,” Zuko answers quietly.

Aang airbends two chairs towards them and they both sink into them gratefully. “It’s still hard though,” Aang admits. “Seeing someone you love go down.”

Zuko exhales flame and catches it with his hands before it burns his robes. Less than half an hour ago, Zuko was burning with each touch between him and Sokka, struggling to maintain a professional demeanor when all he could focus on was Sokka making sarcastic jokes and holding Zuko in place with the strength of his stare.

And it was only minutes before that Zuko almost lost that, right before his eyes, right in front of him. Because of him .

“It wasn’t your fault,” Aang says, watching Zuko as though he can read his mind. Or maybe his mind is just written clearly on his face. “He knew Azula would go for a cheap shot. It’s kind of her M.O.”

Zuko rubs his face tiredly and gestures to Aang. “Come here,” he mumbles. “I’ll pop your shoulder back.”

Aang looks nervously back at the door. “Maybe I should wait for Katara-”

“Aang,” Zuko interrupts. “I can do it. Katara doesn’t need to worry about you too.”

After the deed is done, and Aang is looking a little more comfortable - and sore - they settle back in their seats as the people return from the fireworks. Despite the empty drinks, there’s no sign at all that Zuko and his friends were fighting for their lives ten minutes earlier.

The music picks back up, and two of the Kyoshi Warriors rush up to check on Zuko, only pulling back when Aang assures them he’s okay.

His hands are shaking, but so are Aang’s. For kids so young, they were both well-versed in post-battle adrenaline.

“I can’t stay here,” he mutters, standing up from the table. “I have to make sure Sokka’s okay.”

Aang clings onto his arm. “Wait, take me with you!” Zuko would protest, but he can’t be alone right now. He had been sick with worry and guilt, watching all of his friends fall to the floor, their bodies twisted in horrible, painful ways. He can still hear their cries of pain above the music, and if he pulls Aang closer to him while they walk through the crowd, that’s his business.

Suki directs them to one of the guest rooms and they bump into Toph on the way out.

“Hey, losers. Glad to see we got out of that mess mostly intact,” she says, leaning against the wall. She shudders. “I’ll be glad to never meet another bloodbender again.”

“Is Sokka okay?” Zuko asks quickly.

Toph waves a hand. “Yeah, yeah, don’t set your tits on fire, Sparky. Katara’s healing him now. I figured I’d get in the way, and I can feel my parents looking for me. How’s your arm, Twinkletoes?”

Aang puffs up. “Zuko fixed it for me,” he says proudly.

Zuko glares at Toph. “But is he going to be okay?”

Toph groans and throws her hands up. “ Yes ! How can I be clearer! You four are why I’m fucking single, bloody hell.”

“Language,” Aang tells her mildly as she stalks away. She flips him off behind her back.

Katara’s washing her hands in the sink when they walk in. She rushes towards Aang, fussing over him, and Zuko steps out of Aang’s grip to kneel next to Sokka’s bed.

Sokka lies there quiet, still, motionless. All the things he isn’t. Zuko looks up at Katara with wide, fearful eyes. 

She smiles gently at him. “He’s fine. The knife avoided any major organs, and I healed him before he could lose too much blood.” She looks exhausted and leans against Aang. 

Zuko almost thanks her, but he bites the words back and continues to stare at Sokka, watching his chest rise and fall.

“He would have jumped in front of that knife for any one of us, Zuko. Don’t blame yourself,” she says quietly.

“If I had-” The words stick in his throat, and he swallows thickly. “If I had Aang take Azula’s bending away-”

“There are no ifs,” Aang tells him. “You can’t see into the future, Zuko. Azula chose to kill you, and Sokka chose to save you. I don’t think you could have done anything to dissuade them.”

Zuko drops his head into his hands. “Why?” he chokes out. Why does Azula keep hurting the people he cares about? 

There’s a hand on his shoulder, and Katara rests her chin on the other side, squeezing Zuko. “We should rejoin the party before anyone notices we’re gone. Stay with him until he wakes up.”

Zuko nods, still looking down at Sokka as they both leave. He inspects the wound; Sokka’s fancy Water Tribe ceremonial robes now sporting a large hole. The wound is already scarring, a testament to the properties of water-healing.

Something glints in the candlelight, and Zuko reaches into Sokka’s pocket. He looks at the item in his hand uncomprehendingly.

Why is his hairpiece in Sokka’s pocket?

“Oops,” comes a weak voice. Zuko glances up at Sokka’s face, his clear blue eyes looking between Zuko and the hairpiece. “I was going to give it back to you.”

Zuko discards it next to them on the bed. “How are you feeling?”

Sokka smiles weakly. “Just peachy. The Fire Nation really knows how to throw a good party.” Before Zuko can reply, his eyes narrow and his hand reaches forward, grabbing Zuko by the arm. “Are you okay?” he asks intensely. “Are you hurt?”

Zuko glares at him, even as he grips Sokka’s hand tightly. 

“Are you seriously worried about me ? Sokka, you-” He chokes back the sob building in his throat. “You could have died , did you know that? You’re such a fucking idiot -”

Sokka’s eyes fall shut, and he smiles in content. “Yeah, you’re welcome, buddy.”

Zuko shakes his head, and a few hot tears fall on their clasped hands. Sokka’s eyes open and he frowns at Zuko. He reaches forward, wincing slightly as the movement tugs on his barely-healed wound.

Zuko’s breath stops as Sokka wipes the tears away with warm, trembling fingers. “I’m not going to apologise,” he says stubbornly. “What was I meant to do, just watch you die?”

“Yes!” Zuko bites out. “Do you think I want to watch you die?”

Sokka’s hand pauses at Zuko’s chin, curling around it and pulling Zuko’s face forward. “Wow,” he breathes. “We’re both idiots.”

Zuko pulls back slightly but Sokka’s hand moves to the back of his neck, tugging him forward.

Their foreheads bump together, and Zuko stares at those endlessly blue eyes and forgets how to breathe.

“You can’t call the Firelord an idiot,” Zuko reminds him but his voice is trembling and he doesn’t miss the way Sokka’s dark eyes look down at his lips.

Fuck it , is the last coherent thought in Zuko’s mind before he buries his hand in Sokka’s messy hair and tugs him the rest of the way. Sokka meets his lips with a surprised grunt, and Zuko can hear his heart beating in his ears. The noise is soft and he’s hungry to hear it again.

Sokka’s kisses are eager and energetic, and Zuko’s fingers curl into Sokka’s hair desperately, his mind blank but his body hot and yearning for more.

They break apart with a gasp, leaning their foreheads against each other. Zuko opens his eyes to see Sokka already staring at him, pupils blown wide.

“Whoa,” Sokka exhales. He smiles dopily. “Yeah, this was a good party.” He surges up for another quick kiss before Zuko can reply.

Zuko sits back, light-headed from the kisses. “I love you,” he blurts out. Sokka’s smile disappears abruptly, and Zuko continues anxiously. “I mean - I’m in love with you. I love you. And when I almost lost you I-” He looks away, and his shoulders tense, bracing for a look of anger or worse, pity . Because maybe Sokka deserves more and maybe he knows that but Zuko is used to fighting for what he wants and who would he be if he didn’t try?

Sokka’s eyes are wide with surprise and some disbelief, so Zuko gathers all of his courage and continues, looking him in the eyes.

“You’re intelligent- the way your mind works is beautiful , you always catch me off guard and I love that. You’re strong and resilient. You’ve gone through so much and you still help others - help me in all the ways that count. And uh…” He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “You’re very, uh… really good-looking.” He promptly shuts up before he says something worse, but Sokka smiles, and hope ignites in his chest.

“You think I’m good-looking?” 

Sokka touches the edge of his scar and cheek with gentle fingers. Zuko’s walls have been torn down by the events of the night; he’s certain his face is showing every emotion.

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” he says gently. “But I’d do it again, Zuko. I can’t lose you. I love you too.” He says it like it's the easiest thing in the world, with a simple confidence that can only be taken as fact. He says it as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Zuko still pulls back in surprise. “You…”

Sokka grabs his hand and pulls him onto the bed. Zuko falls onto his chest, narrowly avoiding the knife wound, and holds himself up by his hands on either side of Sokka’s face. His hair fans out on the pillow, a gorgeous picture that stops Zuko’s breath in his chest.

“You’re so kind,” Sokka says, leaning up to plant a kiss on Zuko’s neck. “And thoughtful. Compassionate. Caring.” With each word comes a new, featherlight kiss down Zuko’s neck, and he holds his breath. “Strong. Patient.” He looks up at Zuko. “You give me strength,” he says simply. “And hope. Something to look forward to every day. You’re everything I could want, Zuko. I mean, I kind of stole your ancient hairpin thing to moon over, if that wasn’t obvious enough.”

Everything holding him back just disappears, and he buries his head in Sokka’s neck, his hand on the back of his head, breathing him in. “You’re an idiot,” he mumbles.

Sokka’s laughter shakes them both. “Do you call everyone who confesses their love to you an idiot?” Long fingers stroke his hair gently. “You know loving you isn’t a dumb decision. It’s probably the smartest plan I’ve come up with.” Zuko shivers at the touch of warm lips against his neck, and he feels Sokka’s smile on his skin.

“That’s not a high bar.”

“I forgot how snarky you get after a fight. It’s cute.”

Zuko raises himself up with his hands and glares down at Sokka. “I’m not cute ,” he protests disdainfully.

Sokka raises a playful eyebrow. “No, no, you’re right. You’re adorable.”

“I…” Zuko feels his face heat up. Sokka’s laugh draws his eyes to his lips and he decides to preoccupy them with a kiss. Because that’s something he’s allowed to do now (it makes his head dizzy and chest light thinking about it, so he just does it).

In twenty minutes Suki’s going to run in to request his presence at the end of the party and to deal with everything that’s happened. She’ll spend a few minutes teasing Zuko as he adjusts his clothing, Sokka laughing from the bed.

But right now, the man he loves is safe and in his arms. It’s more than he could have asked for, but everything he had dared to hope for.

Sokka is not a patient man, he'll be the first to admit it.

But it’s been two weeks since Azula’s failed coup, and 3 days since Katara had fully healed Sokka.

And Zuko was gone.

Okay, he wasn’t gone . They had dinner every night, and Sokka could finally indulge in staring openly at Zuko complaining about his day without feeling embarrassed. And then indulge in the cute blush across Zuko’s cheeks when he realises he’s being stared at. 

And if Sokka is lucky, Zuko will invite him for tea in the morning, and he’s treated to a sleepy, soft, slow version of the Firelord. It makes his heart ache that he gets to see this precious, vulnerable side of one of the world’s most powerful leaders. 

But on the whole, Zuko barely has half an hour to dedicate to Sokka at a time. He rushes off with an apologetic kiss - and then a few moments of looking dazed and shy - and an excuse about work. Sokka knows being the Firelord is a lot of work, but he knows Zuko is adding to his workload and he can’t figure out why .

It’s enough to make a guy a little insecure. After all, they had just confessed their love for each other! Everything should change, shouldn’t it?

Sokka kicks a rock into the pond grumpily, and it falls in with a gentle plop , rippling the still water.

“You are sulking,” Aang points out, lying on the grass with his eyes closed and his head tilted towards the sun. “I’m trying to chill out over here.”

Sokka throws a pebble at him, and he bends it away without opening an eye. “I was here first, baldy. Go find somewhere else to be positive and happy.”

“This is literally the chillest area in the entire palace,” Aang complains grumpily. “When I was younger, I visited the palace a few times. It’s still just as intense and-”

“Gloomy?”

“Yeah, you’d think for a nation of people who draw power from the sun, it would be a bit brighter in the castle.”

Sokka sighs and falls back dramatically, squinting up at the sky. His hand reaches into his pocket and closes around Zuko’s hairpin. He would have given it back, but he missed Zuko so much and it helped having it around.

 “We could open all the curtains in the palace. It would normally take forever, but you know… airbending,” he says, waggling his fingers.

“That’s a great idea Sokka! Except Mai told me off earlier today for earthbending the statues in the courtyard to salute. I don’t want to get on her bad side anymore today.”

“Fair enough,” Sokka sighs.

Aang airbends himself into sitting up, and stares at Sokka pensively. “Why are you sulking?”

“I’m not sulking! I’m a warrior of the Southern Water Tribe. I don’t sulk!”

Aang narrows his eyes disbelievingly. “Right. And this has nothing to do with Zuko?”

Sokka sputters indignantly. “No. No! The Firelord ? Firelord Zuko? His Majesty? Nah.” They both look at each other blankly for a moment, before Sokka sighs. “Yeah.”

Aang offers him a comforting smile. “He cares about you a lot.”

Sokka smiles. “Thanks, Aang,” he replies. “I know.”

“And he’s coming up behind you.”

Sokka sits up and whirls around to see Zuko striding through the garden towards them, tall and regal and beautiful . His breath stutters in his chest. Aang laughs under his breath, and Sokka is reminded that he was trained by Toph, and can probably feel his heart beating hard.

Aang jumps up and bows low to Zuko with the sign of the flame. “Sifu Hotman. Sokka. I must go find Katara for our dinner date in the city.” He grabs his glider and flicks it open, flying up and out of there before either of them can say a word.

Sokka glances at Zuko. He looks tired, but - content. Happy. “Shouldn’t you be in a meeting or something?” It comes out snarkier than he means it to.

Zuko looks back at him with a small smile. “I’m sorry,” he says sincerely, grabbing Sokka’s hand. “I’ve been distant lately. Would you like me to tell you about it?”

Sokka rubs his thumb against Zuko’s soft, warm skin, bringing it up to his lips and pressing a kiss against those long, hot fingers. “Yes, please. I know you have a good reason.”

Zuko grabs his chin with his other hand and pulls them in for a gentle, lingering kiss. He pulls back and Sokka follows, wanting more. He smiles. “I’ve been doing it all for you,” he whispers.

Sokka jerks back. “How is working yourself into the ground even more going to help me? I miss you.”

Zuko draws him in closer. “I’ve been working on dealing with Azula’s coup, her imprisonment, and keeping it under wraps on the international stage. And when that was all done, all I wanted to do was spend a few days with you.” 

Sokka relaxes in Zuko’s arms. “Why didn’t you?”

Zuko presses a kiss to Sokka’s forehead. “Because I would just be going back to all this work , and I still wouldn’t get to see you. So I replaced my entire council, all my advisors, all my scribes, all my sages.”

Sokka stares at him for a long moment. “That’s… that’s a lot of work,” he says. “And now?”

Zuko touches his face softly. “I took the rest of the week off, love,” he admits softly. “Did you want to do something? Go somewhere?”

Sokka steals an urgent, passionate kiss, and then rests their foreheads together. “Agni, I love you.” It comes out broken as his throat closes up with emotion, and Zuko brushes a strand of his hair out of the way. “I don’t care what we do or where we go. I just want your undivided attention.”

Zuko’s golden eyes are dark and beautiful staring back at Sokka. “You’ve got it. You always do.”