Work Text:
Sometimes, if you ask Sokka what the best part of winning the war is, he’d be honest and say that it’s the world peace that he’s most grateful for – the open borders, the lack of people trying to kill you, and the flow of trade between nations is pretty great.
And sometimes, if you ask him, he’ll be really honest and admit that the best part of winning the war is having one of your best friends in charge of a whole nation with access to really deep pockets.
Currently, he’s enjoying the benefit of those very deep pockets (and even deeper guilt) while staying on Kyoshi Island to check in on the repairs.
“You know, there’ll be more of that later,” Suki says evenly, in the middle of Sokka stuffing his face with the newest delicious fire-y imports that have come in, care of said guilt. “I really don’t want to tell Katara that you exploded from stuffing your face with Fire Nation delicacies.”
She’s right and wrong at the same time.
“True,” he mumbles, mouth full, “there’s more later, but they’re so much better when they’re fresh.” He rips another piece of dumpling away, offering the other half to Suki. “Want some?”
Sure, he might be a little uncouth, but he’s not sure he deserves that much of a withering glare from Suki.
“More for me,” he says with a shrug, wandering away from the judgmental looks. You’d think he’d start getting less of them now that they’ve decided to stick to being friends instead of dating, but it’s almost like Suki judges him more now that she’s not sleeping with him.
Her loss.
“Don’t go too far!” he hears Suki warn, but it’s still just Kyoshi Island. So what if the market has tripled in size? It’s still a fairly normal island and besides, if he ever gets lost, he can just throw himself into the water and let the unagi chase him into the waiting arms of a hero.
Sokka continues through new stalls, marvelling at the variety they have on display these days, letting his nose guide him towards the fantastic smells on the other side of the market that he’s pretty sure are the spiced meat kebabs that the Water Tribe and Fire Nation concocted together.
That said, he’s got all the time in the world. All the money? Less of that, but all the time, and right now, he’s passing a leather goods stall that has him woefully regretting that saving the world didn’t come with a big fat monetary thank you.
While he sifts through displays of bags and gloves and armor, the ladies at the stall hold a hushed conversation – though not exactly quiet enough to keep the gossip from reaching Sokka’s ears.
Truthfully, because they don’t seem to be trying very hard at all.
“What do you think of the latest shipment from the Fire Lord? It’s a bit much, isn’t it?”
“I heard that he’s so generous because he’s been so happy lately,” the other one says with a hint of excitement in her tone. “You know what that means, don’t you?”
Yup. Sokka does. It means that Zuko is finally well-rested, well-fed, and his paranoia has dipped to mostly manageable levels.
“It’s pretty great, right?” Sokka agrees, holding up a leather bag as he barges into the conversation. “Hey, does this match my eyes?”
The shopkeeper stares at Sokka for a very long time. “...you know why the Fire Lord is so content?”
“Not to brag,” brags Sokka, “but I’m pretty much one of the main reasons he is.”
After all, Sokka’s the one who keeps Zuko from going around the bend with his incredible jokes and the daily sword training they do when he’s there. He makes Zuko drop everything to go see his favorite plays and makes sure the kitchen is stocked with all of the delicacies that Zuko likes the best, so yeah, he’s basically a one-stop happiness machine when it comes to the Fire Lord.
He’s not sure why that’s so thrilling, but the way the shopkeeper reacts makes it seem like Sokka just announced that Zuko is the incarnation of a lion turtle. Suddenly, there’s a flurry of activity and she’s at Sokka’s side, lifting the bag from his hands. “You can’t buy that!”
“It doesn’t match my eyes at all, does it,” Sokka sighs.
“No, of course it does! You can’t buy it, because I’m giving it to you for free.”
That makes him pause.
“Free?” he asks suspiciously.
“If you’re as important to the Fire Lord as you say you are…”
“Of course I am!” Sokka intervenes before he can be accused of lying. “Why wouldn’t I be? Zuko’s a better person because of us, and he’s a happier person because of me!” He yanks the bag back from her, because he’s not about to lose this because of some weird shopkeeper.
“Then you’re taking it for free! We won’t allow anything else.”
Okay. Okay? Yeah. Okay, he’d just fought like hell to keep the bag and it does look really good when he slings it over his chest. The two women at the shop keep touching it and going on about how it suits him.
“You’ll tell the Fire Lord of our generosity, won’t you?”
“You’ll be the first thing I mention in my letter,” Sokka vows honestly, though he’s not sure they’ll like the way he phrases ‘two really weird women basically forced me to take stuff for free’, but hey, free stuff. Sokka is so in.
He leaves on the heels of frantic whispers and suddenly there’s an energy in the market that seems to have changed with the wind.
Strange things keep happening. Sokka gets dinner given to him for free. The shops keep throwing in free gifts with his purchases. The whispers seem to double, triple, and then it’s like there’s an actual soundtrack of buzzed chatter surrounding him.
It’s really, really weird.
When he asks Suki about it that night during training, all it elicits is annoyance. “Are you actually complaining to me about getting too much free stuff?” She’s in the middle of correcting a Kyoshi Warrior’s stance, shooting Sokka an annoyed look. “Either join my girls or go see how much more free stuff you can get.”
Both are tempting, but he doesn’t want to leave with Suki mad at him, so he basically drops his full pile of free things in the corner and hastily joins in on the routine.
It’s only when all the other warriors have left and Sokka’s helping her to clean up that she gets back to the subject. “Aren’t you a little worried this is going to backfire on you? You just told the entire market that the reason that Zuko is happy these days is because of you. You’re not worried someone’s going to think the Water Tribe is exerting undue influence on the Fire Lord?”
Sokka scoffs as he sets some of the training weapons aside. “They could definitely stand to endure a lot more influence,” is his opinion. “Besides, what’s the worst that can happen!”
Suki shoots him an unimpressed look. “Have you ever said that and not had it backfire?”
That’s so very besides the point, but she’s not entirely wrong.
“Whatever. I got a nice bag out of it, plus some delicious dinner and a few extra trinkets. So what if I have to explain to Zuko why international politics are suddenly a little more complicated.”
It won’t be the first time he’s had to do that.
“It’s your funeral.”
“It’s my funeral every day I let your Warriors train using me as their stand-in,” he whines, but he’s well-fed, he has free stuff, and soon, he’ll be journeying back to the Fire Nation where he and Zuko can have a good laugh about all of this.
As far as Sokka’s concerned, there’s no downside here.
Things are only looking up.
When Sokka arrives in Ba Sing Se to visit Iroh (because Zuko can’t get away and Sokka is a great friend and wants a game of Pai Sho), he discovers that he’s missed out on some juicy gossip.
“I heard it from my cousin in Kyoshi,” he hears whispered on the subway cars. “The Fire Lord has taken a partner.”
Sokka is glad he’s holding onto the railing, because he’s pretty sure that he’d have whiplash, if not. He wishes he could blame it on a sudden stop, but they’re smoothly rolling along and it’s news that the Fire Lord has a partner that’s got him suddenly jerking around.
…that, and Sokka has the tiniest, slightest, smallest, teensiest suspicion that…
Well, maybe he kind of started that rumor?
(And if he didn’t, then the whiplash is from a deep sense of envy that he’s not ready to acknowledge just yet)
“What kind of partner?” the man’s friend whispers back, clearly eager for more.
“The romantic kind. I heard he has a husband and not one from the Fire Nation, at that!”
Did he say husband? Sokka’s pretty sure that he just said that he made Zuko happy and that he’s the reason why there’s so much harmony in the Fire Nation. Husband is a big stretch, and he has the feeling that he’s going to be in so much trouble if this little rumor happens to reach Caldera.
Then again, maybe it hasn’t travelled past Ba Sing Se. The walls keep just as much from getting out as they do at preventing people from getting in, back in the day. So, not great, but also not the end of the world. Besides, it’s just someone on the subway. That’s not going to wind its way into the most important hallways of the world.
Sokka puts it out of mind and focuses on the far more important task ahead – lunch.
As much as he loves Iroh’s tea shop, they don’t serve nearly enough meat (and he’s written a dozen complaint letters about the subject, which Iroh keeps posting on the wall, to Sokka’s dismay). Instead, he goes to his favorite dumpling restaurant that’s a few streets away from the Jasmine Dragon.
He knows he’s near when the mere blissful scent of meat and soup and dumplings practically airbends him towards the restaurant.
He’s not sure how to react when the host sees him and forces a waiter to go back to the kitchen and warn them.
He only ate out of two of their inventory items, last time.
Whatever. They still seat him immediately and take his order in seconds. Stomach growling, delicious food passing him, and some of it on the way for him, he’s in his happy place. As the food arrives in the form of five large plates surrounding him, Sokka feels like this day couldn’t get any better.
It can get weirder, though.
“Wait.”
Sokka pauses, his soup dumpling halfway between his hand and mouth, liquid dropping back into the bowl. He waits, as instructed, staring warily at the waitress and wondering what protocol he’s broken.
“Are you Sokka of the Water Tribe?”
Sokka weighs the risk of saying yes. Did he cause any havoc back when they’d been trapped during the war? Is this one of the places he and Zuko accidentally wound up crashing into during some of his Blue Spirit antics? Did he accidentally skip out on the check the last time he was here? He does a quick Detective Sokka glance around the room, decides no to all of the above, and then figures it’s safe to admit it.
“That’s me,” he says, waiting no more to slurp up the dumpling.
The minute he says it, the restaurant goes deathly silent. He hears the sizzle of food cooking in the kitchen and a few items dropping to the ground, and then, there’s a sound he hasn’t heard in ages. It’s a squeal, a terrifyingly excited sound, something that he hasn’t heard since the last time Aang went penguin-sledding and it’s happening here.
“Oh my stars, the Fire Lord’s husband is here!” his waitress sighs. “He’s really here!”
Sokka almost checks to see if Katara’s around, because it feels like someone just stuck an icicle down his back.
“Wait.” And this is the part he’ll kick himself for later. “How did you know I’m the husband?”
Deny it, Sokka. He’s supposed to deny the allegation, not ask how his name got tangled up in the mess.
“Some of the Kyoshi Warriors came in here and told us how you were the Fire Lord’s partner. They were so proud that someone that trained in their ranks has become such an adored one to Fire Lord Zuko.”
Sokka opens his mouth to protest, but he never gets the chance.
“Please let us pay for your lunch. It’s the least we can do!”
Sokka hesitates. It’s because the little voice in his head that sounds like Katara is telling him to do the right thing, Sokka, tell the truth, Sokka, don’t let this –
“We’ll throw in another round of your favorites!”
Sokka shushes mental-Katara and decides that he’s already on this slippery slope, why not lift his arms in the air and have a fun ride. “Well, only if you’re sure.” It’s the right (and very wrong) thing to say.
He’s swiftly confronted with more food than even he can eat – or at least, that’s what he thinks, but every single soup dumpling and fried sea prune makes it into his belly, and the best part is that none of it costs him a single coin.
“Be sure to tell the Fire Lord of our hospitality!” his hosts desperately insist as they wave him goodbye, after they’ve loaded him up with desserts to enjoy later.
He’s so full that he could roll to the Fire Nation and share that opinion, but he doesn’t say that. These nice people just gave him four servings’ worth of a free lunch. “I’ll make sure to tell Zu about every amazing thing you did.”
He’s not sure what he said is worth the squealing and chatter that erupts among some of the wait staff, but he picks out ‘Zu, can you believe that? I can’t believe how adorable they are’, and that’s when Sokka decides it’s time to go.
Satisfied with a free lunch in his stomach, Sokka tries hard not to think too long about whether he’s pushed it too far by playing along with the whole ‘husband of the Fire Lord’ thing.
Then again, it’s not like he’s the one spreading them. In fact, he’s been really mature about not bringing it up. Is it his fault if everyone else keeps making assumptions for him to capitalize on?
Besides, those soup dumplings really were his favorite. If spreading a teensy tiny little rumor means he gets more of them?
Hey, he’s lived through worse. What could possibly go wrong?
Here’s the exact moment it stops being funny for Sokka:
“Welcome back! We’re excited to greet the Fire Lord’s husband to his home,” Miki says as he bows his head deferentially to Sokka. No matter how many times Sokka tries to get him to stop, the young boy won’t, and keeps treating him like he’s some kind of hero.
…okay fine, he likes it, and he doesn’t tell him too loudly to stop.
This, though? This is a problem.
He doesn’t acknowledge Miki and walks straight to Bato’s house, letting himself in without warning. He’s glad to find his Dad there, even if he’s not going to spend much time thinking about why he’s there or what Sokka might have interrupted. He’s just grateful that he isn’t going to have to make two stops.
“Well, well, well,” Hakoda greets him with a smirk.
Oh, this is so bad.
“Tell me, when is my son-in-law visiting?” Hakoda continues, because of course he won’t let Sokka live this down. “It’s very rude of you to get married without telling me or Bato. You know the both of us have such delicate constitutions. Imagine the heart attack we had when we found out.”
Sokka gives them both an unimpressed look. “Are you done?”
“No,” Bato says evenly. “We’ll space it out, though.”
This is all very rich, coming from them, who got married quietly and sprung it on Sokka through the grapevine, but at least with them, it had been Katara bringing the news. “Do I want to know who told you?”
“Who didn’t?” Hakoda deadpans. “Suki wrote a letter, Toph couldn’t wait to blurt it out on her last visit, and I’m pretty sure every person who’s come to trade has asked to shake my hand, because I’m the father-in-law of the Fire Lord and it’s auspicious luck.”
Sokka groans as he slumps into the nearest seat. “Did you at least get anything free out of it?”
Their silence is telling.
“Ha!” Sokka says, emphatically pointing at the two of them as they trade guilty looks. “See! You can’t be mad at me for capitalizing on a few rumors because then you’d have to be mad at yourself, or end up being total hypocrites!”
“Oh, we never said we weren’t,” Bato says, taking all the wind out of Sokka’s sails. “That doesn’t mean we aren’t going to make you suffer the entire time you’re here, if only because only you could do that with the boy you’ve been infatuated with for years.”
Never mind the wind being knocked out of his sails. It’s like the wind just got sucked completely out of the sky. Dumbfounded, shocked, and stunned, Sokka gapes at Bato until he finds a shred of his voice. “...excuse me?”
Bato and Hakoda exchange one of their looks that says they’re having a silent conversation and Sokka can’t prove that they can read one another’s minds, but he’s just saying, it’s exactly the kind of weird spirit mumbo-jumbo nonsense that would happen and they wouldn’t tell him about.
“I told you he didn’t know,” Hakoda says mildly.
“How can he not?”
Sokka is still sitting right there, trying to process all of this. “I’m not infatuated. This is about free stuff!”
It is, right? It’s about getting free stuff at the market and free meals at restaurants, and it’s not about the way his chest feels warm when someone calls him Zuko’s husband, or the fiercely possessive victory he feels when he realizes that the whole world thinks Zuko is off limits. It’s definitely not about the relief he feels when he knows the whole world thinks Zuko is off limits.
Uh oh.
Uh oh.
“I told you,” Hakoda says again to Bato, in an insufferable way that’s not appreciated while Sokka is currently seconds away from tearing his hair out, wondering how he’s possibly the last person to know.
Meanwhile, he’s been traipsing around the world and calling himself Zuko’s husband.
And if everyone down here has heard, then everyone in the Fire Nation definitely has. “Is Katara around? Maybe she wants to make good on that offer to drown me?” He already feels like it’s happening, only it’s alternating hot and cold. How could he not know that he’s infatuated with Zuko?
Now that all the facts are right in front of him, it’s impossible to miss – even though he’s not even wearing his detective hat.
“What am I gonna do?” he says, still clenching and unclenching his hands, like somehow that’ll do the trick.
It doesn’t. He’s still fighting dual urges – one to run away and see if there isn’t a convenient iceberg to swallow him whole and one to board his ship and hurry to the Fire Nation just to find out if Zuko is mad at him.
“Right now, you’re going to have dinner with us, because the last boat that came in to trade with us gave us twice as many provisions just to get on your good side.” Bato claps a hand on Sokka’s back, guiding him forward. It helps, if only because he probably would have stayed there in that chair until he froze. “And then, maybe if we’re feeling generous, we’ll let you talk about your issue until we want to stuff our ears with wax.”
Sokka scowls, because his issue got them a bunch of free stuff, so aren’t they lucky that he’s an infatuated idiot who tripped into being known worldwide as Zuko’s husband?
Moose-knuckles, he’s let everyone think that he’s Zuko’s husband.
And here he is, halfway around the world, where he can’t find out what Zuko thinks about it
“Why didn’t anyone tell me how I felt?” he whines, as he trudges along to enjoy the fruits of his lies – he might as well get the best deal out of this before he has to face reality.
Bato pats his shoulder. “In our defense, we figured you were a wise Ambassador, world-travelled, intelligent and clever and able to realize that you don’t tell the world you’re married to someone unless, deep down, you maybe wish it was true.”
Bato just called him stupid at least three times, he’s pretty sure.
Sokka just wishes he didn’t actually feel like he deserved it. “And if I wanted to maybe marry the Fire Lord?” he suggests, glad they’re inside where he can’t start yet another gossip firestorm. “How would you both feel about that?”
“You’ve done stupider things,” is Hakoda’s contribution, passively, like this isn’t an earth-shattering announcement that Sokka’s made.
“The two fish hooks,” Bato mouths, and brings up his thumbs.
He really needs someone to appreciate how momentous this is. Sokka’s realized that he doesn’t want anyone else to be Zuko’s husband, because he wants to be the one – and he can’t even tell anyone else, because to the rest of the world, he already is.
“So, you two are okay with me proposing to Zuko? Marrying the Fire Lord? Won’t that complicate things when I become Chief?” He’s straining for a reaction here, hurrying after Bato and Hakoda and trying to get someone to match his energy.
He doesn’t get it. They remain calm as ever. “It’d probably improve the trade routes,” Bato points out.
“We’d get the Fire Lord here more often than before.”
“Plus, the quality of imports would improve.”
“And you know how much Kanna likes to spoil Zuko.”
So that’s it, then?
“There is one small issue,” Bato says, pulling out pots for dinner.
Finally. Sokka knew there’d be something. His eyes widen and he waits, patiently, for Bato to reveal some reason why Sokka hasn’t just dug his own grave where he’ll sit and wait for the embarrassment of not realizing he’s in love with Zuko to end him.
“You actually have to go and find out if Zuko wants to marry you back. After all, I’m pretty sure none of those rumors came from him.”
That’s absolutely not what Sokka wants to hear.
“I regret coming here.”
“You love every minute of it,” Hakoda counters, which is frustrating and true and if it weren’t for Sokka’s deep stubborn desire to find out if he’s got a chance with Zuko, he might even decide to hole up and hide away from his mistakes forever.
He can’t, though.
He’s got a Fire Lord he wants to marry and the sooner he makes it clear that it’s not just the cabbage merchant’s gossip, the quicker that Zuko might take it all seriously and stop being mad at him for using marriage as a convenient way to get food and shiny trinkets – if he’s even mad at him to begin with.
The sooner he does that, the sooner he might actually get to marry Zuko – and isn’t that wild how even a week ago, the thought would have terrified him into shocked laughter with how ridiculous and mad it seems.
Today, somehow, it seems cut and dry. It makes sense. It makes him feel right. Somehow, in just a small span of time, Sokka’s realized that it’s the only thing he wants in the world.
Eventually, Sokka can’t put it off any longer.
(That’s not technically true. If he wanted to, he could swing by the Western Air Temple where Aang’s been hanging out lately while he works to rebuild it, and complete his little tour of the world. It’s tempting, but even Sokka has to admit that it’s time to face the consequences)
The journey to the Fire Nation used to take a lot longer, but with swift bursts in technology, handily helped along by Sokka, it’s a swift journey to Caldera. When he arrives, spring is in full bloom and the city is ridiculously romantic with its cherry blossoms carpeting the streets – almost like a city is somehow setting the mood for him.
He’s unsurprised to find two Kyoshi Warriors waiting for him at the courtyard of the palace – and when he sees that one of them is Ty Lee, he braces for impact.
She somersault, forward-flips, handstands, and then springs into his arms, relying on Sokka to catch her. He does, even if his leg buckles a little and nearly sends them both to the ground, but Ty Lee knows enough to relent quickly.
Ty Lee also knows to pinch here, squeeze there, and suddenly his muscles relax in a way no one else can manage. Forget chi blocking – her true talent is pain management.
“How bad is it?”
“How bad is what?” Ty Lee replies. There’s no sign on her face that she’s teasing him, but that could be her deft way of really messing with him.
Sokka narrows his eyes at her, then looks to the other Warrior, who refuses to make eye contact. Well, at least that proves that they definitely both know. Is it a kindness that they’re not telling him how bad it is? Does Zuko hate him now and that’s why none of the rumors have come from the Fire Nation?
Sokka decides he’d better just get this over with.
“Take me to the palace,” he sighs. “I guess it’s time to meet my fate.”
“If it’s any consolation, Zuko’s aura was bright pink today,” Ty Lee shares as they walk, which is immensely kind, but also supremely unhelpful. Sokka gives her a smile, though, and wishes he’d paid more attention to what the colors of someone’s aura means.
“And mine?”
Ty Lee studies him for a moment, wincing. “Really muted gray. You shouldn’t be so anxious, you know.”
Sokka’s eyes widen, his brows shoot up, and he throws both hands out in complete frustration. “I trampled all over the Fire Lord’s honor for dumplings and great accessories,” he squawks. “Why wouldn’t I be anxious?”
Ty Lee stops at the foot of the stairs of the palace. “...maybe don’t tell him about how it started.”
“You think?”
He just needs to go inside, find Zuko, explain it all, and then find out if his twisted, complicated, heavy, wonderful, wild, and new (yet so old) feelings are one-sided. That’s it.
One step, then another, and he’s going to do it. Yup, that’s exactly what Sokka’s going to do.
“...Sokka?”
He hasn’t moved at all. He’s still on the first step.
“It’s going to be okay,” she insists, but it’s not a gentle nudge she gives him so much as a forceful shove that would have him tripping if he hadn’t picked up a few lessons in agility from Suki and Ty Lee and Aang over the years. “Bye! Have fun!” she says, waving him off while making it very clear that if he decides to run, she’s going to take him down.
Fine. He can do this. He’s fought a war. He’s fought Azula.
He can face Zuko, cop to the rumors he spread, and tell him that he wants them to be true.
It’s the middle of the day, so Sokka knows exactly where Zuko will be. He’s had his lunch and has finished his meetings, which means that he’ll be doing paperwork in his study until teatime, after which point he’ll take meetings from community members. Given the slant of the sun, Sokka’s probably got a little over an hour before that time.
If all goes well, he won’t need more than ten minutes.
(Who is he kidding? If all goes really well, he’s going to need hours to make up for lost time, but baby steps)
The windows are open in Zuko’s study and the warm breeze doesn’t do much to cool Sokka down or calm his nerves. He’s already baking with anticipation from having to confess to letting some gossip get wildly out of control.
Now, he’s going to end up beet-red and sweating while he does.
“Fire Lord,” Sokka greets calmly, eyeing the back of Zuko’s head for tics or signs of his mood. Zuko doesn’t turn around, the scratch of his quill steady as he works on a trade agreement or maybe a haiku or maybe he’s just penning a letter to Katara to tell her that Sokka is an idiot. “...Zuko?” he tentatively tries, when he can’t tell if Zuko is just messing with him or if he’s really mad.
Finally, Zuko speaks in a soft and measured manner. “Do you know what it’s like to be the subject of wild gossip?”
Yeah. He’s heard. He’s heard it all.
“When I was younger, people talked incessantly about me.” Zuko’s voice is steady and he hasn’t turned around, so Sokka can’t gauge his expression. He’s also being a coward and refusing to step forward, so all he gets is a view of the back of Zuko’s head and the headpiece adorning his silky sleek hair. “They called me weak and a coward. They talked about how my father didn’t love me.”
“Zuko, I…”
“So you can imagine my surprise when I found myself the subject of another rumor. Only, this time, people were giddy with it. They couldn’t stop whispering about how I had swept the handsome Ambassador off his feet with my dashing charm and my romantic skills. They talked about my generosity and my kindness and devotion.”
Sokka’s pretty sure he can’t blame the heat for how red he’s getting. He will, but he knows he can’t lay it all on the temperature.
Finally, Zuko turns, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “Then, there were the rumors about how good I am in bed.”
Forget the warm breeze. Sokka feels like he just got dipped in a volcano, it’s so hot.
“Well, it was a welcome change.”
Sokka could explain. He could insist that it had all been a mistake, but the problem is that now that he’s aware of the parts of him that don’t want the rumor to be just that won’t let him. “So, you’re not mad?”
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little mad.” Zuko raises his good brow pointedly at Sokka. “You know you could have just asked me to marry you instead of letting whispers reach me from half a world away.”
“...is it too late?”
Zuko turns back to his writing, but not before Sokka sees the delighted smile on his face. “I suppose I have to think about it. If the rumors are true, I’m quite the catch these days. Who knows what other offers I might have on the table.”
The aggrieved sound Sokka makes belongs in a pond, more turtleduck than human, but he probably deserves it. He deserves a whole lot of it and if this is how he needs to grovel, then he’s more than willing.
“I’ll show you other offers,” he grumbles. “Don’t move!” he insists. “I’ve got a date with the market to shower you in the gifts and trinkets and flowers and foods that prove that I’m the only one worth considering.”
Zuko’s quill pauses, and he slants his face towards Sokka, just enough to reveal his sly smirk. “You know it doesn’t count if you get it for free.”
Oh, he’ll pay. He’ll pay every ounce of what it costs.
“You keep working. I’ll prove I’m the only one worthy of those rumors about you.”
There’s no one in Caldera, Ba Sing Se, Kyoshi Island, or the world who deserves to be matched up with Zuko in these rumors like Sokka, and if he has to spend all his money to prove that, he will.
(And did he really just propose? And did Zuko actually leave it open?)
Later. He’ll deal with that later. Right now, he’s got Zuko’s favorite flowers to buy, his favorite fire flake pastries to secure, and he has to reserve the daggers he’s been eyeing for weeks. Then, no one’s going to be worthy of Zuko, because Sokka’s going to put them all to shame.
(He definitely just proposed. Zuko’s definitely considering it)
Well. He always did want to make something of himself. What’s better than Fire Lord’s husband?
“I’m getting hungry,” Zuko says, as the scritching and scratching starts again. “I’d hate for someone else to bring me dumplings and chocolates.”
He’s playing Sokka. He’s absolutely playing him.
Still, he’s not leaving anything to chance. “I’ll be back in thirty minutes, don’t you dare let anyone else in here!”
He knows he’s won by the soft huff of laughter that escapes Zuko’s lips. It’s everything. He’d do anything for that sound, and it’s wild that only a few weeks ago, he hadn’t even realized just how far gone for him he was.
Now that he knows, it’s the world’s worst kept secret. He loves him. He loves him so much and no one else gets to have him, and if Sokka has to spend weeks and months and years proving it, he will.
(Because he’s definitely marrying that man)
Two years later, the world’s changed and not just because Sokka learned his lesson.
Sokka knows better than to run his mouth to get free things, though it’s not like he’s completely stopped. It’s more that now he doesn’t need to spread rumors and lead people on, not with the situation having changed the way it has, for the better. With the Southern Water Tribe on the horizon, Sokka’s eager to come home for the season and bask in the familiarity of friends and family.
He’s also absolutely dreading it.
“They’re going to be insufferable,” Sokka warns, absently toying with Zuko’s cuff to make sure the sleeve covers his hand (since he always gets so cold in the South).
“It’s your father, you had to get it from somewhere.”
“They’re going to – hey! – refuse to let me live it down.”
“You went around the world fostering rumors that you and I were married so you could get free food and trinkets from the markets,” Zuko says, his eyes still on the horizon as the Southern Water Tribe grows closer. “You don’t deserve to live it down.”
He feels like another protest is warranted, but he’s got to space them out. “You’re supposed to be defending me,” Sokka complains.
“You didn’t get that in writing.”
“I didn’t think I had to!”
Zuko hums, but Sokka can tell he’s wearing him down by the way his lips are starting to curve upwards, clearly amused. “I guess maybe your negotiation tactics are slipping. Is there an Ambassador program I can send you to, for improvement?”
Sokka narrows his eyes and thinks, very carefully, how quickly a Kyoshi warrior would take him down if he were to shove Zuko into the icy waters below – even though he absolutely deserves it. In the end, he elects to grab Zuko’s hand instead and tuck it inside his warm pocket with his own, possessively holding on tight.
He’s earned that right. No one else gets it.
“How about I negotiate who gets the blanket tonight?” Sokka suggests. “Then we’ll see who thinks I’m slipping.”
“You can have the blanket,” Zuko rasps, voice sweet as honey in Sokka’s ear. “I’ve got my very own personal heater.”
Sure, he could be talking about his own internal temperature, helped on by his firebending. He’s not, though, because when he uses his free hand to squeeze Sokka’s ass, it’s abundantly clear what he means.
He’s also not wrong.
“They’re waiting for us,” Zuko notes, a few moments later as they near the docks.
They absolutely are. Sokka inhales sharply, reminds himself how much he’s missed home, and the people, and the food, and Kanna’s hugs, and his father’s sage advice, not to mention any excuse to snuggle tightly into Zuko’s side at night.
He counts those things again and again, and stacked up, they nearly make the smug looks on Bato and Hakoda’s faces worth dealing with.
“Welcome back, Fire Lord,” Bato greets them once the gangplank has been sent down and they’ve disembarked. “And Sokka,” is an annoying dismissal, but he’s used to it. Even as the future Chief, he’s basically chopped liver around here, even with all the respect he should have earned.
“Bato,” Zuko greets politely, deferring to Hakoda next with a bow of his head. “...Dad?”
“Look, he’s learning,” Hakoda praises, patting him firmly on the shoulder. “Now,” he says. “Seeing as you’re the esteemed husband of our future Chief, I believe that you’re owed a fancy dinner with all the finest imports that the South has to offer. After all, everyone knows how happy you make Sokka. It’d be a crime not to reward that.”
This is all very pointed, intended to make Sokka writhe for his idiot mistakes, but the joke’s on them.
Zuko’s beaming and he’s never looked happier and Sokka gets a delicious meal out of it, so, ha, who’s laughing now?
If you told him, years ago, that one slip of the tongue at a market would lead to this moment – Sokka, married to the Fire Lord, basking in the glories that is the world’s need to show their appreciation for a happy Lord, he wouldn’t have believed you.
Well, he might have. He would have needed to be high on cactus juice to do it, though.
Today, watching Zuko fawn over fire flakes and the latest spicy delicacies that were imported from the Earth Kingdom’s fanciest restaurants, Sokka genuinely, honestly, really, can’t believe that this is his life.
And, because he really hasn’t learned his lesson, he elbows the nearest person on the dock. “See that?” he says with a smug grin, gesturing to Zuko’s delight and the easy way he laughs without restraint or abandon. “I did that.”
“We know, Sokka,” sighs Miki. “You won’t shut up about it.”
He never will. When you’ve managed to land yourself the Fire Lord, it’d be ridiculous not to boast and brag and maybe, once in a while, exaggerate for the good of a bit of gossip, here and there.
It’s not like the spirits taught Sokka a lesson – if anything, he completely won, netting himself a handsome husband, who he keeps as happy as he possibly can.
“Then, if you’ll excuse me, I think it’s time I start some more scandalous rumors.”
If you can’t beat them, well, you join in by adding fuel to the fire, a little more fire, and then an incendiary device or two – and if all the while, Zuko stays happy, then Sokka doesn’t care if the whole world’s ablaze.
He’s worth every single moment of it.