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She tries not to stare at herself for too long because then she will begin to hate herself. At first glance there is elegance and poise. She has a pretty face and a slender body. Her hair and clothes are still tousled from sleep. It should have been combed upon waking. She has stared long enough for confidence to dip into a notion that she could benefit from applying more makeup. And if she stares longer…
She averts her gaze.
But it drifts back.
She can’t help it.
Not when things are so strange that she forgets to question it.
She has now stared long enough to decide that she should probably stop skipping her firebending routine. Long enough to decide that her face is quite plain, nothing to boast about. Long enough to decide that she isn’t good enough for herself.
Long enough to decide that it would be alright if the universe didn’t right itself for once.
.oOo.
When did his biceps get so big?
He strokes his chin. Certainly he isn’t complaining but he doesn’t remember being so muscular. He supposes that he has been doing his share of training he just hadn’t realized that it has been paying off so splendidly. His face is well chiseled and his beard is coming in quite nicely.
He quirks a brow, he doesn’t understand why he can’t quite seem to keep a lady.
It certainly isn’t his looks.
He likes to think that he is funny and generally nice.
Maybe he doesn’t take things seriously enough? Maybe he isn’t as nice as he thinks he is?
He looks back to himself. Appearance definitely isn’t the problem.
.oOo.
Azula supposes that this is exactly what she had asked for--an escape from herself and the unsavory things that, lately, come with being her. She should have been more specific. Should have asked to keep a feminine body, should have asked for the body with a face she has never seen before.
She hadn’t the foresight.
Why would she?
It was an impossibility.
A silly, stupid, childish wish that was never meant to be anything beyone a dull fantasy.
But the spirits are bizarre beings. And so her world has become more bizarre. She wakes in the palace but not in her own bed. She is in the guest bedroom staring at the ceiling, palms resting on her bare chest. She hadn’t been toppless when she went to bed. She also hadn’t been this tall nor this beefy.
She rubs her...his hands over his angular face. Over his beard.
She definitely should have been less vague with her wish.
.oOo.
Sokka has been on many life changing trips in his life. He isn’t sure how many times his life can change before he stops being able to recognize it as his life. It certainly isn’t his life right now. He knows it upon waking. Knows by scent alone--by a gentle aroma of smoke and something floral.
They were only supposed to fetch a few herbs from the jungle. Gather them up and take them back to treat whatever illness has overtaken Zuko this time. He is always sick these days--Iroh believes that, somewhere deep down, Zuko will always be at war with himself. His spirit is prone to conflict and an affliction of the spirit is an affliction that needs a tonic from the spirits.
Sokka should have known that the spirits in question would have some trickery in store.
He supposes that it could be worse, he could have woken up as one of those saggy old ladies or as Ozai.
Who is he kidding, this is probably the worst. There is a pressure that comes with waking up as someone else--the need to maintain that body. And there is a lot to maintain; well manicured nails, perfectly silky locks, soft skin…
And if he so much as gets a speck of dirt on Azula’s cheek, she will destroy him.
The jolt of panic that he should have felt upon waking finally hits him.
.oOo.
So far he has done well by her. She can’t complain too much. Although he had forgotten TyLee’s twenty-third birthday and forgotten to get dressed before entering one of several council meetings. Granted, he managed to push through the meeting with the elegance and cleverness that the council expects of her. It was probably easier to manage when the humiliation isn’t entirely his own. Overall, he hasn’t gone out of his way to make a fool of her.
He very well could have.
The temptation was probably there after all of the bad blood between them. Most likely, he dreads retaliation--the prospect of her doing irreparable damage to his body if he steps out of line while wearing her skin.
She hasn’t spoken to him.
She should.
She can tell that he is itching for conversation.
For explanation.
But it is still to weird. Weird and awkward. She doesn’t want to hear her own voice when she is not speaking. Doesn’t want to watch her body perform mannerisms that she wouldn’t normally. It is all too similar to the dissociation that occasionally afflicts her.
He is standing across the room, locking eyes with her.
They are going to talk today.
.oOo.
When he finally manages to catch her, he finally begins to understand Azula’s reluctance. It is more jarring than he anticipated to listen to himself speak. His voice sounds almost too deep to him hearing it from the outside.
“So you think that this is your fault?” He asks.
Azula shrugs, “the spirits never liked me and I suppose that you were caught in the crossfire.”
“Ehh, not entirely.”
“Not entirely?”
“I’m a bit of a skeptic, you see. And they just lo-ove proving me wrong.” He laughs. Admittedly, Azula has a soothing laugh. A soothing voice in general. He hopes that she doesn’t hate his.
.oOo.
It is some nights later when she finally decides to work past her discomfort and speak with Sokka again. They are going to have to devise a plan because clearly, things aren’t going to resolve themselves.
She makes it to the door and she almost changes her mind.
Things have been...kinder.
She knows that they aren’t talking to her. That they aren’t her friends but it is still nice to have people smiling at her. People who aren’t forcing it for the sake of diplomacy and for fear of pushing her back to her more conniving ways.
It hasn’t been entirely easy; Sokka has so much work that he has been putting off. He is not organized in the slightest. And his father, there is a familiar pressure there. Unlike her own father, Hakoda means well, but she can’t help but feel like he has a lot of expectations for her to meet. And Katara...sometimes Katara cries over their mother and she has to work around her coldness lest she give Sokka a reason to begin negatively tampering with her life.
And then there is Suki. Suki who either ignores him or finds reasons to argue with him. She doesn’t think that she could hold Sokka’s relationship together for him for much longer.
It is difficult but, Agni, how wonderful it must be to have relationships that are so good that she’d dread losing them. It is difficult but, Agni, it is nice to be invited with enthusiasm to go to festivals and dinners.
It is nice to have friends.
To pretend that they are hers.
With a sorrowful fluttering in her tummy, Azula makes her way down the hall to begin the process of ruining that for herself.
.oOo.
“I think that I understand why you made that wish.” He says upon seeing himself standing in the doorway.
“Hmm?”
“You’re really lonely, aren’t you.”
“Not right now, no.”
He gives a sad little laugh, “you don’t want to switch back, do you?”
He watches the wheels turn in his own eyes before Azula finally answers, “not really, no.”
“Thanks for handling Suki for me.” Another sad laugh. “Is it weird that I think that my relationship might have ended by now if I had the reigns?”
“No. You’re insensitive and constantly say unthoughtful things.” She shrugs.
“I don’t want to hear that from you .”
She shrugs. “Fair.”
.oOo.
She can tell that the charm of being someone else has worn off. That Sokka’s enthusiasm has waned. The way he carries himself, the look on her face is becoming more and more similar to the one that is there when her soul resides there.
“Well I need my body back. I can’t deal with this. I can’t be alone.”
And finally! Finally someone else knows. Someone else finally understands that it is unbearable being her and she doesn’t know how to fix it. She is much better at handling relationships when they aren’t her own. Because these relationships have a chance. These relationships are salvageable. Hers are not.
.oOo.
He can’t fix her problems the way that she is fixing his.
He doesn’t even know where to begin. It comes like a slap in the face; his friends are so cold now. It doesn’t matter what he says or how he says it, they won’t let him in, not when he is wearing this face.
It hurts the most to hear Katara say that she doesn’t trust him, that she doesn’t want to be near him while she moves closer to his body. He notes the grimace on his face.
He tags along to a New Year festival but no one speaks to him until he tries to gently force his way into a conversation. It is now strained and awkward. He thinks that he is going to break--he knows that this isn’t his life but it is grueling to be on the outside and so far away from affection for so long.
He wishes that he could help her the way that she is helping him make his dad proud. The way that she is so effortlessly making his friends and sister happy.
He doesn’t fault her when she comes to him later that night and very quietly tells him that Suki has had enough. That this festival made her realize that they just didn’t have that spark anymore. And for a moment he is glad that he doesn’t have his own body--at least he won’t have to deal with that .
.oOo.
Azula’s stomach is all kinds of queasy. She has never so outright faced her sadness. She hates that Sokka is wearing it so plainly on her face. But she can’t blame him for it, she has just added his own stress and struggle to the ones that he is taking on for her.
She only finds herself growing more steely in her aversion to inhibiting her own body once more. If Sokka can’t charm his way into his own circle of friends than she certainly can’t, not without his face as a mask.
She tells herself that she is trying to give herself the touch and affection she has been so dreadfully starved for, nevermind the soul that is locked within her body. She takes her own body into Sokka’s arms and rubs her back.
Her body seems so small and fragile to her.
Her skin is warm against the back of Sokka’s hand. It isn’t unpleasant to the touch and she wonders if it is egotistical to think that it is a shame that such a pleasant sensation has gone unappreciated.
She clings to her body with the tightness she yearned to be held with. She feels a jolt of surprise when Sokka returns the hug, even if it isn’t quite as tight. Maybe he understands that she needs someone to hold her even if she isn’t in her own body.
She should have left it at that.
She was a fool to push further.
But she has only ever been kissed once before and the experience was lackluster.
She wonders if this is some sort of taboo; people generally don’t make taboos for impossible feats.
The taste of her lips on Sokka’s is also not unpleasant. She thinks that, given the chance, she would probably be a remotely decent romantic partner. At least as far as the physical goes. She almost doesn’t realize that Sokka is kissing her back.
She thinks that there is a strange beauty in this possible deviance.
She remembers herself and pulls back suddenly. Oh spirits, what was she thinking?
.oOo.
He gets only a few moments to try to wrap his head around what has just happened. It was certainly an alien experience, one that he can barely comprehend. One that is disorienting, to be hygge and kissed by himself.
At least he can say that he is damn good at it.
He has strong arms and a very comforting embrace. His fingers were tender when they brushed through Azula’s hair. And his lips are soft.
Granted, he might consider shaving when he gets his body back.
And, by Raava, he can’t say that he didn’t need that after taking a backseat to his own relationship struggles. After having dealt with them first hand for a while before the swap. He can’t remember the last time he got a kiss from Suki.
He is engrossed enough in his own thoughts to have not noticed the world around him. Not until he hears a voice.
“Her!” Suki screeches. “That’s why the spark has been missing, you’ve been with her .”
Sokka watches Azula shake his head. “This is the first time. A rebound. Nothing more.”
Reflexively Sokka winces at the ease in which she referred to herself as nothing but a rebound. All the same he is comforted that she hasn’t made him out to be the unfaithful sort.
“Of course she is. You just go from woman to woman, you don’t even think about it. Was I a rebound too?”
He flinches again where Azula is calm in her ignorance. “Why would you think that?” She asks.
“Why wouldn’t I? How often did you think about Yue when you kissed me.”
“Don’t bring Yue into this!” The words are out of Azula’s mouth before he can stop them. And Azula turns to look at him, a look of horror plastered on his face.
Suki’s brows furrow. “A rebound? She already told her about Yue and you’re calling her a rebound?” She pauses and changes directions. There is a look of understanding in her eyes. “That’s how you did it, isn’t it? You told her a sob story about your dead girlfriend and you started making out.”
“It was one kiss, one time.” Her tone isn’t so level anymore. He has spoken what that tone enough to know that she is getting stressed.
“Since when do you buy into sob stories, anyways?” She asks him. For a second he forgets that she is talking to him.
He offers a shrug. “Nobody has ever bothered to tell me one.”
Suki rolls her eyes, “that’s not what TyLee said when she was venting about how apathetic you and Mai are.”
Geez, she is coming for everyone tonight, Sokka thinks. Not that he hasn’t given her a reason to be angry.
“This is why no one wants you here! We only invite you to keep you from burning the entire palace to the ground or something!”
People are staring now and among them are his friends. He spares a glance at his own face, the expression upon it is harder to read than usual--and in that indifference he knows that there’s unfathomable hurt.
Unfathomable hurt that he feels for himself.
Hurt that comes from himself and from Azula.
Hurt that comes in knowing that the inevitable has happened--Suki has broken things off for good.
Hurt that comes from a surplus of empathy. In knowing that he couldn’t help Azula even slightly. He only made things worse for her. And he hadn’t meant to.
He thinks that Suki knows that she had gone too far.
She knew it before he let the tears fall.
All of the tears that he had been holding back after his arguments with Suki, all of the tears he couldn’t bring himself to shed after watching Katara cry over their mother. All of the tears that he should have shed with her, he misses mom too and Yue.
He knows that Azula doesn’t like to cry either but at least she doesn’t look as ridiculous doing it.
Part of him wishes that she would take his body and come to comfort him again, to give him another hug. But she only stares numbly.
Suki turns to her, “some boyfriend you are.” It lacks a punch though. He thinks that she is trying to nudge Azula to comfort him. But Azula stands frozen; things have slipped far out of her control, so far that she can’t do damage control this time. It is probably overwhelming to watch herself cry. To see and understand that no one is stepping forward to help her.
Faintly he thinks that this would be a great opportunity for her to use his body to help herself--to take her body into his arms and tell everyone to look at this broken woman and realize how much pain she is in.
But she has shut down.
And so he mourns for her, mourns an opportunity missed.
.oOo.
Suki rubs her hands over her face. She is talking again but Azula is distant. More distant than she has been in a long time. It is significantly easier to detach herself when she truly is detached from her body and watching herself break down from a distance.
It is easier to feel nothing and no pain for herself when she isn’t herself.
She watches Sokka...watches herself wander towards Zuko.
Watches Zuko grit his teeth and force himself to take her in his arms as she falls apart.
And she finds herself angry--she is hurt and she still doesn’t get to feel the comfort even when it is being given to her.
“Are you alright, Sokka?” Katara asks.
Azula shakes her head.
She isn’t sure that she ever will be.
No matter where her consciousness is, it will never be at peace.
She watches Sokka walk her body to her bed. Alone as ever. They are distant with Sokka’s body too. She supposes that, that is what makes it so easy to follow Sokka to her bedroom. To silently lay herself next to herself and pull her in close.
Sokka doesn’t protest.
In fact, Sokka presses her body to his chest closer yet. She feels the soft warmth of her cheek against the crook of her neck. Feels her breaths on her chest. She wipes her own tears away. And he reaches out with her head to wipe tears from his cheeks.
She hadn’t realized that she was crying.
.oOo.
Sokka wakes up with the most horrible headache and an all over soreness. As though his body no longer fits him. It dawns upon him that he is no longer being held. Rather, he feels the tickle of Azula’s hair on his chest and neck.
She doesn’t wake up for a very long time.
Or maybe she has woken up but doesn’t see a reason to open her eyes.
He tries to imitate the way in which Azula had rubbed her own back. The way that she tried to comfort herself, though he doesn’t think that she will be particularly fussy about the way she is being consoled so long as it is happening.
He realizes that she is very much awake, likely she had woken up before him. He hopes that it was nice to wake up in someone’s arms. He brushes her hair out of her face. “You’re going to be okay, Azula. We’re going to be okay.”
Azula shrugs.
.oOo.
Lunch is very quiet now that she has come to ruin it.
She knows that she should but she can’t bring herself to pick up her chopsticks. Instead she stares at the hippo-cow meat on her plate until the steam stops rolling off of it.
“You should eat at least a little bit.” Sokka breaks the silence.
“I’m not hungry.”
She isn’t welcome either.
She doesn’t know why she followed him to the table. She doesn’t know how she managed, she is so tired.
“Yeah, I get that.” Sokka replies solemnly. “I’m not as hungry as usual either.”
Suki has the decency to look concerned.
“We’re not mad at you, Sokka.” Katara is quick to say. “I mean, I think that you should have had more tact…”
And that is putting it mildly. She hadn’t been careful. She had been desperate and clumsy in her desperation. She has been rewarded with her own downfall and Sokka’s. She supposes that she can at least spare Sokka the suffering. At minimum, this was a mess she made and she isn’t one to dodge responsibility. “I didn’t give him much of a choice.” Azula shrugs. “I wanted something, I got it. He didn’t have a say.”
Sokka pales. “That’s not true.”
She wishes that he would just let her take the fall, her reputation was already irreparable.
.oOo.
“She was alone.” Sokka says lamely. “You guys don’t really talk to her. I mean she wasn’t exactly the friendliest person but she…” he trails off. “I don’t know, you guys didn’t see how...how hurt she looked.”
“We did.” Zuko mutters.
“Not before I...she started crying you didn’t.”
Across the table, Azula looks damn near ready to die. He could swear that has visibly sunk lower into her chair. And if he keeps going, she might just disappear under the table.
“She doesn’t understand how to care about people, Sokka.” Mai mentions.
“I know that you and Suki just broke up but she’s going to take advantage of that.” Katara adds.
“You don’t have to go after the first person you see.” Toph shrugs.
He ignores that remark and addresses Mai. “I think that she does. She just has trouble expressing it. Right, Azula.”
“Wrong.” She grumbles. Her face is a shade of red that he has never seen on her before and will probably never see again.
“See, she’s just really weird about expressing things.”
.oOo.
Her stomach is beginning to ache but she has little interest in going back to that table. She curls up in on herself, trying to will the hunger away at least until she can sneak down there when everyone is asleep.
She hears a soft knock.
She doesn’t know what she hadn’t expected Sokka to just barge right in. But at the sight of a sizzling kebab and a bowl of heavily seasoned and spiced rice she decides to forgive the offense.
“You hungry now?”
She nods eagerly and takes the bowl from his hand, perhaps at an almost rude speed that her father would have scolded her for.
“I hope that you don’t mind that I brought Aang along, I thought that it would be good for you to talk to someone besides me.”
She nods between bites. Aang had always been particularly easy to talk to. She had also shared some of the most enlightening conversations with him--before that she could never seem to find someone who would converse about philosophical matters with her.
And if she had steered the conversation in the right direction, she could usually walk away from the discussion feeling, at least briefly, like she wasn’t a lost cause.
She supposes that she has a rather distinct way of speaking about those philosophical things. Or maybe it is that her stances resemble Sokka’s far too much for it to be a coincidence…
She nearly spits out her rice when Aang says, “you guys switched for a while, didn’t you?”
“Switched?” Sokka gives a twitchy, nervous smile.
“Yeah, TyLee noticed it too, she said that your auras didn’t fit you well. That yours was like Azula’s and Azula’s was like yours.”
“That’s ridiculous. You and your supernatural weirdness…” His laugh is laughably fake.
Aang turns to her. “That’s how I know that you’re a good person.” His smile is very genuine. “I was so easy for you to just talk to everyone. And we tended to agree on a lot of the topics we discussed.”
“Yes.” Azula agrees. She supposes that it is reassuring to know that her stances on morality and the value of life align with the Avatar’s even if there are some finer detail to be disagreed upon.
“You guys really helped each other,” even he has to admit, “up until the end. That was kind of messy.”
“It was a disaster, Avatar.” She sighs.
“But you both meant well.” He grins.
It doesn’t change that she is still alone and that they still think that Sokka is some sort of womanizer. She probably looks as crestfallen as she feels because Aang adds, “I think that Suki feels bad. She was already angry and then she was shocked…” He trails off. “We do want you to come to festivals with us, we just don’t know how to talk to you.”
“‘Sactly like howyou…” He swallows his food. “Like you talk to me, she just wants people to talk to her.” He slings an arm over her shoulder.
“You should come downstairs and eat with the rest of us.” Aang tries.
Azula looks at the bowl in her lap, she supposes that a table would be nice.
.oOo.
Sokka is relieved to have Azula tagging along behind him as he makes his way downstairs. He takes her hand in his. Things might have gone terribly amiss but he is very certain that he can make them right.
That they can make things right.
He squeezes her hand.
And for the first time, though he is much more comfortable in his own body, he is glad that he got to leave it for a little while.
.oOo.
It is still somehow disorienting to be herself again, perhaps because she had gotten way too comfortable being cherished...being Sokka. But it isn’t as intolerable to be her as it was before she had left herself.
Even if it is only two people, she isn’t alone anymore.
Azula stares at her hand, cupped in Sokka.
She has the touch she has yearned for.