Chapter Text
«Kon, chap-chap"
The usual deep metallic smell filled the nostrils like a liquid. It was so hot here, though it was nothing close to summer yet. Even the hottest summer days paled compared to the ever-present heat in the room. It was still too early in the morning for everyone else but the two of them, yet they were long up and ready to get to the business.
Instead of a reply, loud steps above the stairs were enough of an answer. They were like ticking clocks, confident and quick and somehow amusing. Sharp moments later, a slim, tiny figure appeared on the case, too fast to register his state.
The lively, upbeat tone of his voice lessens under the hammer bumping. One. Two. Three. And some more until the shape is proper to cool the future masterpiece. The knife-like, sharp golden orbs narrowed as their owner concentrated on the task. Every so often, lashes, kissed by the night – so infinitely dark they were, even under the sunlight – fluttered, opening and closing, puffy and wide, like two delicate fans. Fresh tears of sweat appeared and fell from the whitish forehead, supposedly to disturb the work. Still, they, in reality, never did: the person in question was too used to the feeling of it marking the skin with little wet traces, kissing the flesh, and washing the gray powder off clumsily. Brows were furrowed into a deep frown.
One familiar pair of eyes sifted through the process, noticing the tiniest details getting ready. The process repeated itself often enough to be remembered by heart: get the metal you use all red and bright, hammer it until it's as thin as you want; when the shape is all good, you have to cool it on water, sharp it and clean it, maybe use some sandpaper if you wish. Just one gaze was sufficient for him to understand the stage the smith was at.
With a tired sigh, small hands covered in tight brown leather dropped the hummer on the nearby table. He looked again, with a little tint of satisfaction, that the shape the customer wanted was as close and perfect as it could be while progressing. He stood before her, raising his arms.
"I could have helped," - he stated, face serious but betrayed by a bit of pout, emotions too honest to his liking. The person before didn't turn to look at him, too into the deal. She knew exactly who it was and why he was complaining. It was a conversation they had going on and on, never seething to stop it and coming to an agreement.
"I know," - she said, her voice harsh and tired after long work hours. "But I need you now".
He nodded, not happy with it but letting the argument dissipate in the air for a while, like a smoke. He promised himself to mention it again to her – he never did usually, too tired when the day was over. Even so, he didn't doubt that today would be different.
"The usual?" - he asked, knowing full well what he had to do: he just wished to listen to her voice for a little longer and always questioned. It wasn't that her voice was very soft or gentle. It had a lovely deep shade, smooth like velvet, pretty sharp at times, often poisonous, but not at him. It wasn't the typically 'pleasant,' but he loved hearing it anyway. He could see from a small squeeze of her shoulders that his question annoyed her a bit, but she answered always.
"Yes, the usual," - she highlighted, though annoyance quickly turned into a light amusement. "Get some water".
He obeyed, moving closer to a tank, taking off his working glows. With hands-free of cloth, he breathed in relief, raising them. Some funny circling in the air, and the water jumped from its spot, listening to his every move attentively. With one swift motion, it landed on the freshly made blade, freezing and cooling it down with the liquid.
The woman close by hummed with an appreciation. Noticing her reaction, he smiled proudly.
"You are getting better every passing day," - she voiced, compliments rarely escaping her lips. It would have been better if he made a calm nod, not showing his happiness all that much, but instead, he showed her the goofiest of grins. She answered with a smile, finally turning to face him fully. "But you still need practice. Can you try to surround the blade with it and cool it down properly?"
He did as she asked, struggling a little with a new task. Keeping control wasn't easy, but he tried not to disappoint. Though it was tough, he did as asked.
"Yes, just like that," - the woman commented, preparing napkins and readying the board to place it into.
Not waiting for another command, he threw the used water away. The future sword still needed to cool, but he fastened the process with his assistance.
She also knew it, taking off her glows and placing them back neatly. Her charming face was covered in spots of black and sweat. She petted his head with a clean hand, shagging it teasingly.
The kid pouted but moved his head closer to her hand, enjoying the tender touch.
"Thank you," - she said, as usual, gazing at the staircase. There was their room, bathroom hall, and a tiny but homely kitchen. "While it cools, let's come and eat, shall we?".
The boy smiled happily, all in anticipation of food. He woke up hungry, and helping with work distracted him from all the smells from the kitchen. He felt like a minute wasted, and drool would come from his mouth.
"Yes! Yes!" - he screamed happily, taking her hand in his and rushing forward. She chuckled, used to his eagerness. "Let's go already, mommy. "
Azula didn't fight his grip, welcoming it and running with him to the stairs.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
There's always a time in a man's life when he requires something special. Like his life hadn't changed for a long while, and yes, he was still somehow content with it, but he wished for that something, and desperately.
It was a day like that to Sokka as he woke up early, alone in bed, and a little miserable. After months and years of work, politics, and oh-so-boring stuff in Fire Nation, he decided to make a quick trip to his sister's house after the third (or so) failed invitations. Katara almost begged him to rest, to get a vacation, to stay with her and Aang, and who was he to refuse some sweet family time? So he agreed.
Council work turned out much duller than he initially anticipated. After years of war, heroic fights, and peacemaking, rolling tons of documents (paper better used for origami) in his hands and throwing some ideas at the meeting occasionally was as exciting as it sounded. However, as much time passed, something deep inside him asked for a good fight, for some action – and he still did when he had tiny things to do or too much paperwork. All his life, he worked his way with swords, and now he had to work with words – ironic, wasn't it? He wasn't a person of peace, as much as he wished.
Sokka sighed, standing up from the warm covers of his (guest) bed, mind full of a strange realization. It had been eight years already since the war ended.
"Hey, Sokka, I know you must be sleeping, but ---."
"I am not," - he answered, a bit annoyed. He was not always that heavy sleeper! Occasionally, he had to wake up as early as the sun when he had too many things to do at work. Sokka couldn't lie that he enjoyed being an early bird, but things had to be done. It was hard to stay asleep while being alone.
He hissed at the last thought that crossed his mind. It had been a month, and it still hurt so much, the pain barely duller than the first night afterward. He knew that what they did was for the best. He knew they couldn't work, no matter what he wanted or wished for. He knew, and yet his heart couldn't agree just yet.
Maybe ever.
No. He had to move on from her. This whole month had been fine (not at all; he was so lonely and miserable, and he missed her smell, the feel of her body next to--).
Damn, his thoughts. He repeated under his breath that he was okay constantly. He was happy to do his tedious, same old work: it was stable and healthy. Sokka still missed her dearly, he won't lie, but their staying as friends eased his longing. They could still spend time together and share their thoughts; being close was enough. The only thing that helped him keep going was that time heals, and he believed in that.
"Do you plan on staying in here, or you will finally come for breakfast?" - he heard her voice, annoyed at his lack of reply. He forgot about her.
"Sorry, coming soon!"
She mumbled something close to "good," and he heard her steps lessen with the distance. Instead of continuing with his bitter thoughts, he rushed to get dressed. If there was something to make his mood, it was, without a doubt, food.
Katara and Aang waited patiently as Sokka did his business in the guest room. They didn't talk much, bitter topics flying in the air. Her husband (and Sokka's dear friend, the Avatar) knew perfectly well what was bothering her and didn't comment on things that were likely to irritate and shake her with worry even more. Instead of giving it another session or arguing, Aang reassuringly put his hand on hers. Katara smiled as always, glad to have his understanding and support now more than ever. They had many things to discuss, but her brother was the top.
It was unsaid truth that his emotional state bothered her a lot. She loved Suki from the bottom of her heart, but their breakup hit her and hurt her anyway. Katara did her best not to interfere – it was tough for a person like her, who loved to control things – but deep down, she considered the separation cruel and useless. Yes, they didn't see each other often enough, and yes, they had important business to attend to, and yet it was not worth her brother's heart in Katara's book. Nothing in the world was.
Food was turning cold, plushy clouds of smoke escaping plates' cages for a while already. If she knew her brother well enough, Katara expected him to come very soon.
...And he did.
"Sorry for making you wait," - he said, soundly coming from the stairs. Hearing his voice, Aang had a big smile blossoming on his gentle face.
"It's okay. Please, sit down with us".
So he did, touching cutlery and already having amazing smells filling his nose. 'Yep, food helps.'
Waiting for everyone to sit was too much of a bother, so he waved his hand and jumped to the food instead of sharing pleasant greetings. The brutal way of eating and his always-present hunger made Katara feel a little better.
"Sokka," she said, voice the most neutral and friendly. They all had started eating by now, the atmosphere pleasant except for awkward silence and pauses. The eating noise filled the void, but it was not enough. "Do you have any plans today?".
Aang looked at the two uneasily but quickly returned to eating. If something happened, he had to join his wife.
"...Not really," - Sokka voiced between the food and swallowing. His lack of manners was nothing new and didn't bother anyone anyway. His unusual quietness did, though.
As his sister tried to come up with some – any – topic to discuss, the nomad did his best to help. Seeing his dear Katara struggle so much hurt, and he was worried about his friend.
"Maybe you can join us today on a walk?"
As he said that, Katara gave a little thumbs-up. Sokka, on the other hand, groaned at the suggestion.
"Thank you, really, but I'll pass. You two should better spend some more time together."
And it was true. He had no desire to go anywhere anyway, more so – for a walk with two lovebirds. It could have been egoistical of him, but he didn't care this time. Sokka wasn't the one to pretend.
"Right..." - mumbled Aang, ogling his finished soup bowl with unease. He had no idea how to deal with heartbroken people, and even more so with Sokka in such a delicate state.
"You can't just stay at home for a whole month, though," - Katara commented, her voice full of honest concern. She should have been angry that he waved off Aang's lovely invitation in that manner, but the whole situation bothered her enough as it was. Sokka dropped his head lower, not having a response. What could he say? 'I just want to get back with Suki and go home'?
He was not a kid anymore, so that answer was out of the question. His silence was enough evidence that he was not okay, despite what he had been saying for the whole time.
"I know, but..."
But I have nothing to do but grieve, don't I? Oh, and pity myself that she left, silly for me to forget.
"...But I didn't come up with something interesting just yet".
Yes, right, that was the case. Run away all you want.
"Then you can... Hmm..."
"...What about going shopping?" - the airbender answered, strangely witty with his suggestions. It seemed that being a married man gave him some more wisdom.
"That can do!" - Katara agreed, standing up, excited. What other things did Sokka like besides shopping and eating? ...Maybe fighting also, but it was out of the question now, at peaceful times. Right. ...Right?
"... It's not so bad," Sokka said, finally agreeing. He understood perfectly well that they wanted to help him, and some entertainment wouldn't hurt. But it wasn't like he needed anything in particular.
"Sokka, I have an idea," - his sister said, her face lighting up, turning less worried. Her husband looked at her lovingly, glad to see her finally smile honestly. "You mentioned sometime before that you are a bit bored with quiet, right?". Instead of answering, he nodded warily. "Great, so why not go and buy yourself some new weapon? Or have your sword repaired? You can never be too careful, and as a councilman, you need to always be ready to protect yourself".
It was just an excuse for him to do something he might enjoy. Katara was aware that there never were attempts on his life, but being careful never hurt. Also, she was against any fighting clubs and even police: he was in a state of mind where he could lose a hand while being too deep in his misery. A new weapon, though, could give him some sense of security and make him feel like his old safe, like a warrior.
Before, he was more than likely to refuse again, but now – that gave him some thought. He was in no mood to buy some bags, clothes, or funny things, but a new weapon was another business entirely. He had been caring for his Space Sword for years, but there was only so much he could do with keeping it clean and sharp. 'Maybe some expert's opinion and assistance won't hurt.'
Sokka didn't even remember the last time he visited a blacksmith. Once, he went to one while at Fire Nation's mission, discussing some fishy trade deals. If he recalled correctly, some of his business partner's sons asked for a match, as he was a novice swordsman or something. He agreed back then; he was too stressed and tired of routine. He won, of course, but overdid it a bit: one of his jian swords died on the battlefield. He had nothing else to do but repair it in one of the most famous blacksmith houses, where the sword was patched, and some nice buffy middle-aged man with one fantastic beard took care of explaining the delicateness of the blade keeping.
"I like it" - said Sokka, this time honestly. He could go out of his way to come to the Fire Nation again or search for the local one.
"Blacksmiths isn't the most favorable business, more so now," - Katara explained, massaging her chin in thoughts. "But I am sure there's a good one here somewhere. Republic City is quite new, but it doesn't mean there are no professionals".
"I know the place quite well," said Aang enthusiastically. He had been living there for many years, so it was pretty apparent that he knew a lot about the Republic City. Sokka had also been taking care of it, working with all those constructions and politics, but never paid enough attention to the buildings themselves. He was too used to Fire Nation, as he was with Suki most of the time. Until...
He didn't want to think about it. The desperate expressions of his sisters and Aang made him smile a little. He already relied too much on their kindness. Worrying them some more would be too much.
"I will take the Space Sword with me today, then," - he summed up, grateful. “Thank you, Aang, sis”.
Katara looked relieved, making him feel even more guilty. Was his misery worth making his sister feel uncomfortable? He had to finally grasp himself and move on with his life. Suki was okay and well, so he had to do the same: organize his life, control, and be happy. At least it's scheduled.
"You are welcome".