Archive of Our Own

Toroq knew the sea. All his life. He knew its temper on cool winter mornings, thrashing against the ice, nearly capsizing him and his crew mates. He had amity with the fish that it housed, brought to his tribe, ready to be seared and salted, bringing grease filled grins on fur wrapped children’s faces. He had found an understanding with it, as it gave him nothing but calmness when he rowed Yenna out to see the tiger seals swimming in the water, the moonlight bouncing off their backs just right so that the brown of their skin gleamed near golden. Toroq thanked it for presenting him a soothing anchor in his ears as he pulled out a betrothal necklace, toiled over for hours, laboured not just with his hands, but his heart as well.

He could’ve killed it on their wedding day, stabbing and slashing with his sword – however futile that may have been – roaring over the edge, dousing him and his now wife in cool water, making the wolf fur cling to his face and her blue and white beads rattle with the shock.

Toroq had turned on the sea, the waters staring cheekily back up at him, white foam serving as a further tease. But his rage had been quelled instantaneously by Yenna’s laughter, loud and boisterous. His wife had thrown her head back, throwing her white fur lined hood off the crown of her head, and mussing up her hairstyle a bit. She had cackled, open mouthed and infectious, showing him every one of her white teeth, covered shoulders shaking and her betrothal necklace vibrating in the hollow of her throat.

He had started to laugh too. Then the whole procession had begun to laugh as well, and before he knew it, he and Yenna were kissing through their fits of giggling, as the elder still had to complete the ceremony, shivering through it all the while.

By the end of the day, when he and Yenna were laying together, intertwined and sweating in their igloo, Toroq decided that he didn’t mind the sea as much, as it drew laughter from his wife’s chest, making her more beautiful than he thought possible.

But it also brought tears as well, as she bade him goodbye on the shores, barely contained tears in her eyes, tongue clucking in her mouth. He had removed his gloves, throwing them down to the ice and taking her face in his hands, the calluses on them likely giving her a comforting scratch to her smooth skin.

Then he had gone, and his wife had faded to a small blue dot on the horizon, and the sea had carried him away from her, wave by wave, until she wasn’t there at all.

And he had left her. For three years. By far the worst three years of his life. An hour away from Yenna when they were not yet married had been torture. But years?

Sometimes Toroq wondered how he made it to his feet every morning, how his hands moved to tie knots and steer the ship. But even then, the smallest part of him knew.

He was doing this for her. So that she could be safe. So her bright blue eyes never had to bear a look of fear or terror again, to keep them shining brilliantly with bliss.  To ensure safety for any of the children they might have in the future, water tribe sons and daughters, able to roam their waters freely without fear of a Fire Nation ship coming to burn them from their boats.

And she was worth it. Who else could be?

But thankfully, someone else had won that fight for him. The Avatar, freed from a century long prison of ice, wielding all four elements in a display of mastery so great it made the Fire Lord cower and yield his greatest weapon to the boy: his bending.

At least, that was what the fishwives had said when he arrived back at the Southern Water Tribe, holding their baskets at their hips, buzzing with excitement, waiting for their husbands to return as well. 

Toroq had only given them a sheepish smile and a gaping mouth, while the more verbose of his crew came over to regale them with events they hadn’t even borne witness to.

As soon as he was free, he had run as fast as he could, his memory guiding him past new snowmen and old spears staked in the ground, until he was there.

Immediately he had dropped his bag to the floor, seizing the curtain and pulling it back with such force that he thought he might’ve ripped it off. But Yenna wasn’t there, a sleeping mat rolled up into the corner, and boots scattered around the place.

He had staggered back, heart beating so hard Toroq mused it might’ve broken out of his ribcage, landing onto the snow, turning it a pretty shade of pink.

“They would’ve told me,” He muttered, running a gloved hand over his forehead, shock clouding his mind, “If she was…”

“Toroq?”

Thankfully, he didn’t have to suffer that turmoil for another moment, as his wife was standing right behind him, a basket of fish in hand. She promptly dropped it of course, when they went to hug each other so tight that he worried he would crush her ribs instead. But Yenna had hugged him with matching enough strength that it mitigated that.

When they had pulled away, she had raised her hand to his face, her thumb to the corner of his eye.

“You’re crying.” She had whispered, gently as a morning breeze, a smile teasing at her lips.

“I know. I missed you.” He confessed, bowing his head into her shoulder, bringing her into another hug.

Yenna had said nothing, only returning his hug, but with less passion this time, but with comfort at knowing that she’d never need to hold him so tight again.

That everything would be alright.

But the tides demanded him again.

10 years after the war’s end, Chief Hakoda had called him to the newly erected tribal hall, and informed him that he was chosen to travel with to act as Water Tribe representatives at a skirmish in the southern  part of the Earth Kingdom, not so far from them.

He had told Toroq that he would be accompanied by his son, Sokka, the heir to the tribe. Sokka had not been there, but based on brief impressions of the young man, Toroq knew he was not the type to shirk his duty.

Have you forgotten the last time you went out at sea! His mind impressed upon himself, raging with fear of repeated circumstances. And it is different this time, far more different! She is with child! Your child, you fool! What would happen to them if you don’t return!

These thoughts almost forced a no from his dry lips, and he was sure Chief Hakoda could see his hesitation. But instead, he gave him a grim nod, before stalking off back to his home.

He had told his wife, her stomach barely bulging, but just so that only he would notice it. Her face hadn’t contorted in barely concealed agony, or misery, eyebrows scrunching up together like the tail of a polar seal. Yenna had blessed him with a placid smile, moving forward and taking his large hand in two of hers, and bringing it to her lips.

“You have nothing to fear. Neither do I.” She had soothed, her soft voice washing over him, and leeching all the tension from his body, pulling a small sigh from his lips. “Neither does the baby.” She then brought his hand down to her belly, and though at this stage there was nothing there to feel, it served as an anchor all the same. “We must all do our part for the balance of the world.”

Toroq had huffed. “Well, I’m hardly defeating the Fire Lord.”

Yenna then had leaned forward and kissed him sweetly standing on her toes. “But you’re doing something still. Maybe if you keep this up, you can join the Avatar.” She had joked, pulling a chuckle from his lips.

So, he had bid her goodbye once more, dotting her face with kisses, and comforting hands on her stomach.

 All for her.

                                     —-----------------------

“Toroq, right?” Sokka said, holding out an arm for him to grapple on. Toroq took it, and shook with strength.

“Yes.” He confirmed, tired, before turning his gaze out to the sea again.

“Well, I’m Sokka. Although you probably already knew that.” The young man joked, hands on his hips, watching Toroq with comedic intent.

“I did.”

“Hmm.” Sokka then dropped his hands before assuming Toroq’s pose a few inches away from him.

Toroq closed his eyes, embracing the darkness. But all he saw, even in the pitch black was the brown of Yennah’s skin, the dark blue of her betrothal necklace ribbon contrasting with the light blue of her furs. If he was not been more in control of his emotions, he would’ve begun to weep.

“You’re married to Yenna, right?” Sokka guessed, although not turning to face him. Toroq didn’t either, however he did open his eyes, focusing on the azure of the water. Like the azure of her eyes.

“I am. How did you know?”

“I was at your wedding. Granted I couldn’t even speak, but my dad tells me I was there. I also went over the census when I was bored, and I’ve seen you two around town. You look very in love.” The last word took a lilting tone to it, and if Toroq turned, he didn’t know the probability of seeing the heir with a rose in his mouth and wriggling his eyebrows.

He guessed it would’ve been shockingly high.

However ridiculous the sight may have been, Toroq smiled at the mere mention of Yennah, the name bullying a smile onto his face.

“Thank you. I love her very much.” Toroq then bit his lip, and bowed his head again, consumed by welcome thoughts of her. Her hair, her unblemished skin, her belly starting to swell with her child. Their child.

“Tell me about her.” Sokka commanded casually. Toroq turned to face him, confusion taking control of his eyebrows.

“What?”

“Maybe talking about her would make you miss her less.” Sokka supposed.

Toroq sighed, leaning his forehead against the railing. Feeling the wood cool him slightly, calm him. Although not as good as her touch.

“She is kind.” He started, although each word came out of his mouth like blocks of ice; stilted and slow. Sokka didn’t seem to mind, nodding. “She makes a fantastic squid and mollusk soup. Like, crazy fantastic. It’s my favourite thing to eat, actually.”

“I’m more of a sea prune kind of guy, but go on.” Sokka interjected, making a gesture with his hands to tell Toroq to do just that.

“I’ve loved her for as long as I can remember.” Toroq confessed. "We've been friends since we were little kids and it’s just grown from then.”

“You sound like my friend. He’s loved Katara from the minute they met. It got kind of annoying, you know, third wheeling them across the world. But occasionally it was sweet.” Sokka divulged, picking at his furs.

“Yeah,” Toroq nodded, trying to summon any knowledge that came to mind about Sokka’s sister and the Avatar. He didn’t pay recent attention to news from the outside world in recent years, focusing only on the life he had, right here.

But how could he forget, only a year ago, the flying bison, carrying the Avatar in, decked out in Water Tribe regalia, and marching up to the young waterbending master to take her hand, and take each other as husband and wife. The new Fire Lord was even there, wearing clothes far too thin for the weather.

“She and the Avatar got married recently, didn’t they?”

Sokka smiled pleasantly. “Yeah, they did. Although, my family’s now got one crazy marriage under its belt, so I don’t really have to pull out that many stops.”

“You have someone?” Toroq questioned. With most of Sokka’s time being spent serving as an Ambassador of the tribe, mostly to the Fire Nation, he wondered how difficult it would be for him to keep a relationship, especially with someone so far away.

Sokka nodded, smiling even brighter than before, picking at the fabric of his sleeves.

“Are they from our tribe?” Sokka shook his head, turning it away from Toroq.

“The North?” He mused again. Now, he had nothing against the north, but from what he had heard, they all looked down upon their southern counterparts, seeing them as slow savages.

“No. Actually, they’re from the Fire Nation.”

The confession felt like a boomerang whacking him over the head. The Fire Nation. The more irate, war stricken part of him raged, a century worth of war and he goes and falls in love with one of them! Our future chief, at the mercy of a Fire Nation woman! Our tribe no less!

But, the more serene, understanding aspect of him prevailed. If Yenna was Fire Nation, and we found each other in a time of peace and balance, would I love her any less?

“It does make sense. With you being an ambassador and all. Is that why you spend most of your time in the Fire Nation?”

Sokka’s face altered slightly, shocked at Toroq’s quick acceptance. But the shock was soon replaced with a quiet joy.

“Yeah. They’re mostly why.”

Toroq grunted in approval. “Well, I’m glad she makes you happy. Or at least she seems to.”

Sokka made a sound which was a mix between a chuckle and a choke, before pushing himself up to stand straight and giving Toroq a quick clap on the shoulder.

“Yes. He makes me very happy indeed.”

Sokka then left him, before Toroq could get a glimpse of his face, out there alone, with just the memories of his wife.

                                                       —----------------------------- 

The next time he and Sokka spoke was out on the deck again, the sun grappling on to the edge of the sea to make its way to the sky, painting it with oranges and pinks of the dawning day.

Toroq had just finished his pack of seal jerky, crumbing the paper in his hands. It seemed Sokka was lured out by the promise of meat, but the subsequent drop on his face at the sight told Toroq that he should’ve brought more.

But, all the same, Sokka still stood next to him, assuming a similar position to Toroq, chin resting on a fist.

It wasn’t as if Toroq was disgusted by the idea of Sokka being in love with a man. He wasn’t! In their tribe’s culture, there was no taboo placed upon it, and during his time away from his wife, he had seen Hakoda and Bato together, although both of them were far too stupid–or afraid– to reveal their feelings to each other. He had no problem with them, and neither with Sokka and his love.

But, even though he had never met the man, he held worries for Sokka’s love. Especially because he was from the Fire Nation. Toroq had only stepped foot into the place a handful of times, but he remembered hearing of their laws about same-sex relationships. Cruel, violent laws set in place after Sozin came into power. Although the new Fire Lord had repealed these laws, and justly so, Toroq knew that they couldn’t be so easily removed from their culture. 

Disgust and disdain had been ingrained in that culture for 100 years. And they were stains that couldn’t be washed out, especially with facility.

Toroq concerned over the backlash Sokka and his lover might face, from the Fire Nation itself and from his lover’s own family. And if the man was of noble birth, or an affluent background…

But he couldn’t change what might happen, only able to wish the two luck in their future together.

“Tell me about him. Your love.” Toroq blurted, tearing the paper to shreds and letting them fall down to the deck.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the younger man’s shoulders drop and his hand coming over to gently stroke the rail.

“He’s a firebender. A great one, though he doesn’t seem to think so.” Sokka related fondly, grinning immediately at the mere thought of him. “Kind of stupid of him, since he’s the best firebender I know, but anyway. There’s a lot more to him than his bending. Like, his kindness. He’s very kind. To everyone. He’s also, like, really warm.”

“As in his personality?” Toroq questioned, eyebrows scrunching. 

“No. I mean, he does have that personality, but he is also warm, like physically. He’s like a built-in furnace, with the firebending and all.” Sokka babbled, like a love sick polar puppy. “When he comes to the South Pole, I basically just cling onto him all the time, especially when we’re sleeping. It’s nice, and he doesn’t complain.”

He must work in the palace then, Toroq realised, since only the Fire Lord comes to the tribe most regularly. And if the Fire Lord comes, he must be very important in the Fire Nation indeed.

“So, he works in the palace then?” Toroq asked Sokka, who nodded fiercely. “He must be very important then.” With that statement came a sharp gust of wind, filling Toroq ears and cutting off sound for a moment. But if the wind hadn’t come, Toroq would’ve heard the tiny snort that the man across made.

“Yep. He’s very important.” Sokka said, lips curling so it looked like there was a joke Toroq didn’t understand. He didn’t mind though, as throughout his youth his lack of humour and comprehension often left him standing up straight while his peers were keeling over in laughter, a perplexed look on his face. After the joke had passed, Yenna would always try to explain it to him afterwards, patient and gentle, and when he understood minutes later, he would start to laugh, garnering weird looks from everyone else. Yenna never looked at him with judgement though, she just started to laugh with him again, to make him feel less alone.

“Does he have any siblings?”

Sokka cleared his throat after making an uncomfortable noise, adjusting his hair with one hand, eyes widening in embarrassment.

“Yeah. Two sisters. Both younger. Big brother, like me.” He emphasised the last bit by sticking out his thumb and poking it into his chest.

“Parents?”

Sokka’s mouth opened and closed like a cod flounder on the hook. He’d hit a nerve.

“I don’t know if he wants me talking about his family with you. But he’s really close with his uncle.”

“Alright. Then tell me something else. What does he look like?”

Sokka took a moment, fiddling with his hands, like he was trying to find words to summarize his love, but nothing was great enough to encapsulate him completely. Toroq knew the feeling.

“He has amazing hair. Really long, but fantastic. It’s like a blanket, you know. Silky and soft. And it smells–he smells– of fire lilies. I’m obsessed with them now, thanks to him. I think it’s in the shampoo, or maybe his soap–”

“Sokka.”

“Sorry. His skin is really pale. But when it’s night, and the light peeks through the curtains, it’s pale like the moon.” Sokka then turned his head up to the sky, as if seeking out the thing that made his love so beautiful, but the moon had retreated, taking its rest for the day. “He doesn’t look sickly, though, it works for him.”

Toroq hummed, painting a picture of the man in his mind, although with his poor drawing skills–even mentally– so far it looked like a stick figure with a white face, a black blob on his head and orange streaks coming out of his hands. 

So maybe not the best idea.

“I’m taller than him, but only slightly. Recent development.” Sokka joked, lamely pumping a fist in the air.

“He has the most stunning eyes. Amber. When they’re in the midday sun, they glow like melting gold in a forge. Or sparks that come out when you’re striking flint.” The man’s voice slowed down, like he was speaking a lullaby to a small baby, each word coming out paced and slow, his breath imperceptible. “And he’s beautiful too. Gorgeous. He doesn’t think so, though, ‘cause he has a scar.” Sokka then raised his hand to his left eye, brushing that side of his face with his finger. “But I think it makes him look more beautiful.”

He then turned to face Toroq, and then finished, “It hurts me when he says that. He doesn’t realise how great he is sometimes. Does it hurt you, when the people you love don’t see themselves as you see them?”

Toroq nodded solemnly. On rarer nights, Yenna  would lay on their bed, telling him about how she wouldn’t be a good mother to their child, how she would ruin him, ruin their lives together. Granted, those bouts were brought on by the effects of the pregnancy on her body, but he knew they pervaded her thoughts more often than she would admit to him.

“He’s just…everything. Everything I could want. Sometimes I wonder why he loves me. He could have anyone he wanted in the world. But he chose me. Me.”

The more logical part of him would’ve called out Sokka for his hypocrisy, but the other parts of him wondered the same about him and his wife. In the years leading up to his proposal, Toroq berated himself, telling himself that a woman so beautiful and intelligent as Yenna wouldn’t want to waste her time on a man such as him, for he was not as handsome as men like Hakoda or Peq. 

Even after her giddy acceptance and their marriage, he wondered every other night whether or not he was worthy of her. 

Most nights, the answer was no.

But someone as young, handsome and brilliant as Sokka had no reason to be sharing in his feelings.

He placed a strong hand on his shoulder, drawing the other man out of despondency.

“You said that you want him to see himself the way you do. Maybe he feels the same about you. You talking like this might hurt him too.” Toroq suggested, an earnest smile on his face.

Sokka lamely nodded, but there was a small glint in his eyes that told Toroq that his words were worming his way into his chest.

Then, the other men came up from below, and the pair had to leave their loves for another time.

                                                            —-----------

As they neared closer to the Earth Kingdom, their conversations grew in frequency and in lengths, as they both gleaned information about their loves from each other.

Toroq told Sokka about the time Yenna nearly capsized their boat during an impromptu fishing trip, after a spat with her father, sending Toroq careening into the water. When she tried to pull him out, she fell in as well, and the pair trudged back to the village, soaking wet and snorting.

Sokka told him about how his love had a great affection for turtle ducks at the ponds in the palace, and how by a brief distraction (made by Sokka of course), one of the baby ducks had taken a quick bite of fire-cakes he had brought, causing the duckling to start spewing hot dust from its mouth, honking for its mother. The mother had then attacked Sokka’s love, biting the toe of his boot, causing the man to hop around the pond, shouting apologies to the duck (Toroq presumed that the mother didn’t understand him). The whole ordeal had ended with Sokka bandaging the man’s foot, with laughed condolences, moans of pain and quick soothing kisses.

One time however, he caught sight of Sokka rubbing his thumb up and down the fabric of a red ribbon, most likely for hair. When Sokka had retreated below the deck, he swore he heard the man take in breath of air through his nose, holding the red bunch to his face.

The talks were nice. They grounded Toroq and eased some of the pain brought on by the distance from his wife. It also soothed him to learn of the character of Sokka’s love. From what he knew, the man was grounded, intelligent, kind and understanding, although a bit prone to working himself into the ground.

All the good markings of a future Chief.

When they had arrived, a few days earlier than expected, to the Earth Kingdom, the skirmish was already sorted out, with both parties coming to an agreement without their presence. Sokka tentatively suggested to the crew that they make a quick detour to the Fire Nation, for ‘ambassador duties’ he claimed. Toroq didn’t suppose that anyone else on the boat knew that Sokka had some additional motives. But it wouldn’t have made any difference in Toroq’s answer.

He missed his wife, intensely, but when he returned, he was sure he would be with her for years, uninterrupted by anything else. With Sokka and his love, both of them frequently separated by the political demands of a peaceful era, they might not see each other for months.

So, he agreed, without hesitation.

When it was announced they were only a day away from the Fire Nation, Sokka’s eyes had lit up, and he had done a little twirl over to the railing, right next to Toroq.

“So, when we’re there, could I meet your love?” Toroq suggested tentatively.

“Uh, yeah! Of course you can! I’ll tell him beforehand, but I don’t see why he’d have such a problem with it.” Sokka agreed brightly.

“Do you think we’ll get along?”

Sokka nodded slowly, although it was more with his body than just his head.

“I hope so. But I know he’ll live up to what I told you.”

Toroq hummed in agreement.

It was only when they docked the boat and began to make their way to the Fire Nation Palace, that it occurred to Toroq that throughout this whole journey, he forgot to ask Sokka for his love’s name.

                                                   —-----------

From inside the palace was even grander than it had appeared on the outside. High red walls, and red carpeted floors, with black and red banners made up most of its composition. His eyes wandered every inch of the place, his hand nearly drifting to the weapon at his side. But Sokka at his side, leading them through with verve and vigour, outlining every room or corridor, smile brightening with every turn they took, calmed him down. Sokka may have been younger than Toroq but he knew he was far wiser than he would ever be.

And on the journey, with servants and ministers casually greeting Sokka on the way there, Toroq wondered if any of them were Sokka’s love. But his eyes didn’t hold onto any particular person, or his cheeks darken with affection.

Not yet.

Finally, Sokka stood still in front of a room with two doors. The group behind him stopped short, gently knocking him forward. Sokka bowed his head, taking a breath, and if Toroq really strained his vision, he could see the corner of Sokka’s lips peeking up ever so slightly.

Then Sokka pushed the door open, and they all stepped into the room.

A man with thick, smooth black hair down to the small of his back stood there, his back to them, head bowed. He looked like he was absorbed in a book, but he promptly put it down on a table in front of him, before turning around to look at them.

His scar was the first thing that caught Toroq’s attention of course, pink, wrinkling and puckered. He heard the stories of how the man’s own father gifted it to him, in a cruel joke, before banishing him to achieve an impossible quest. It centered around the man’s left amber eye and pervading into a bit of his hairline. But he didn’t hide it behind a curtain of hair, a mask or a bowed head.

The man wore it, not proudly, but as it was: a part of him. It wasn’t embarrassing or something to go around showing to people at banquets. It was just there.

Fire Lord Zuko did not look like a man prepared to burn the world to the ground. His arms were at his sides, and it looked liked he was squeezing something inside his sleeve. His back was straight, unbent by the strain of power, and half his hair in a top knot, but his eyes betrayed a tiny bit of fear, just a glimmer but still there. His robes were a deep rich red with gold accents running on the sleeves and across their edges.

The man was very handsome, with pale skin, and quite tall.

But he looked too young to be running a country. Especially a country as tempestuous as the Fire Nation.

Although, Toroq had not seen any riots on his way into the city, and there were no firebender attacks on other nations recently, so maybe he was doing a good job.

The man bowed, awkwardly so, before raising himself back up straight.

“Great thanks to you all for your help in the previous weeks. It means a lot to me, the Fire Nation and the balance of the world.” The Fire Lord proclaimed, a placid smile on his face.

The rest of the men bowed sheepishly, grimaces on their faces. All the men except for Sokka. Sokka, who the whole time had been staring at Zuko with barely concealed admiration and affection, mouth open slightly. Sokka, who made his way up to the Fire Lord, before embracing him in a tight hug, causing a choked sound to come out from the other man.

After a few seconds the Fire Lord relaxed, wrapping his arms around Sokka’s back, tightly, and gently shoving his face into the crook of Sokka’s neck, closing his eyes.

They stayed like that for a long time, likely far longer than was appropriate. Then they pulled apart, Sokka briefly whispering something in the Fire Lord’s ear, causing him to turn a pleasant shade of pink.

“Unfortunately the dinner isn’t ready yet, but I can have you shown to your rooms in the meantime.” The man suggested shrugging his shoulders meekly but with a quiet strength to it. The Water Tribe men made sounds of assent, and Sokka made their way over to them. But ever so quickly, Sokka’s hand brushed against the Fire Lord’s, their fingers curling towards each other.

But only for a moment.

“I’ll show you guys around. I know this place like the back of my hand.” Sokka assured them cockily, waving them out of the room, save for Toroq.

“It’s not like you just got lost in the east wing two months ago.” The Fire Lord joked snorting. Joked. The Fire Lord. Joking.

Sokka errantly threw a hand back, as if to say –whatever–, before exiting the room, guiding the men out.

He didn’t expect anyone to be this comfortable with a man of Zuko’s station, but he supposed most of the Avatar and his friends were like this with the man. After all, ending a century long conflict usually brings people together.

So, Toroq was left alone. In a room. With the Fire Lord.

The man awkwardly stepped towards him, still playing with something in his sleeve.

“You must be Toroq.” He said, holding out his hand for a grapple. Toroq’s eyes widened in shock. He took the man’s hand, feeling something hard against his wrist.

“I am. How did you–”

“Sokka exchanged letters with me on the way here. He spoke about you a lot.” The other man said gracefully.

“Ah. Well, thank you, Fire Lord, for receiving us here.”

Zuko turned a light shade of red, shaking his head. “Please, call me Zuko. I’m not really much of a Fire Lord.”

“Alright then. Zuko.”

After an awkward bout of silence Zuko said.

“Would you like to see the gardens?”

                                                      —----------

At night, the gardens were devoid of any fauna, the infamous turtle duck pond empty and dark. Zuko knelt down to it, placing a piece of bread from his pocket in a nearby bush.

“They usually come out during dawn. If you have the energy I could show you later.” Toroq lazily nodded. He hoped Zuko hadn’t picked up on his tiredness and mistook it for disrespect. Although, from a few minutes of being in his presence, Toroq surmised that he wasn’t the type to burn him for it.

Zuko then led them to a glass gazebo, with red tinted windows and golden spiralling top. Toroq took a brief walk around, before sitting down on a bench. Zuko remained standing, looking at him intently.

“Sokka tells me you’re married.” He admitted, feet planted on the ground, still playing with something in his sleeve.

“Yeah. Her name is Yenna. She’s with child.” A part of him supposed that it was a bit stupid of him to tell the Fire Lord of all people that his wife was pregnant, with their nation’s history and all, but if Sokka trusted the man enough to tell him about Toroq, he supposed he was trustworthy enough to tell him this.

Zuko’s face lit up with a child's glee, brightening his eyes. “That’s wonderful! Congratulations!”

Toroq inclined his head. “Thank you. You don’t have any children yourself, do you?”

Zuko shook his head, making his way to the bench on the side of the gazebo.

As the man sat down he accidentally pulled his right sleeve up off his arm ever so slightly, revealing a blue band, with a paler blue stone hanging off it, a symbol which vaguely looked like a fire symbol engraved.

The image was soon hidden behind Zuko’s long red sleeve once again, leaving Toroq’s brain to short circuit.

“No. Just me. Although my council has already started to pressure me for some. And marriage as well.” 

“Hmm.” Toroq sounded, pained, and the sound was cut off by a yawn. I am jumping to conclusions.

Zuko turned to him, scrunching his lips up with concern.

“You should sleep. Your rooms are through the way we came, you know.”

Toroq waved him off, still yawning. “I couldn’t. I’m your guest.”

“Which is exactly why you must sleep.” Zuko implored, still sitting. “Please.”

The man had a convincing stare. Toroq stood up, stretching out his arms. “Will you come with me?”

Zuko shook his head, leaning back against the gazebo. “I don’t think I’ll sleep for hours. Lots of work.”

“Try not to work too hard.”

Zuko smiled gently. “Goodnight, Toroq.”

Toroq stepped out of the gazebo onto the paved path. “Goodnight.” But as he made his way across the path that winded around the back of the gazebo, he heard steps along the grass, ignoring the path.

“Hey.” Sokka.

“Hey.” Zuko.

He didn’t mean to spy, or intrude but he had to know. For the future. For Sokka and for his wife.

Toroq could hear the bench creak a bit with Sokka’s weight on it. If his memory and ears served him well, Sokka took a seat right next to the Fire Lord.

There was nothing but silence between the two men. Then there was a rustle, and a gasp.

“I knew that went missing!” Zuko exclaimed, and he could hear a quick whip of wind and a thud.

“I’m sorry.” Sokka laughed, a hint of pain in his voice. “I needed it.”

“Did you?” Zuko questioned flirtatiously. Toroq could almost picture the man raising his one remaining eyebrow. “Well, I would’ve given it to you, if you’d have just asked.”

“Eh. Maybe. But that makes it less romantic, you know. Me stealing a token of your affection, holding onto it far, far away. All the while suitors vie for your attention all the way over here, and I am powerless to stop them.” Sokka proclaimed dramatically. Toroq thought that if he looked up he would find Sokka on his knees, arms raised to the sky.

Zuko laughed.

“This is serious, Zuko!”

The Fire Lord was out of breath with laughter, “You could make it to the Ember Island Players with that one. I can put in a good word for you. And besides, what other suitors? You scared them all off.”

“I did not!” Sokka retorted with fake indignity. 

“Sure you didn’t.” Zuko snorted. “I’m glad you did though. Now I only have you to deal with.”

“Lucky me.” And Toroq could practically hear the shit eating grin plastered on Sokka’s face.

And then, there was no more talking. Filled with audaciousness and searing curiosity, Toroq swiftly raised his head above the gazebo, so that only his eyes were peeking out. 

They were kissing. Sokka’s hands were weaving through Zuko’s hair, both their eyes closed. In his left hand, Zuko held a long red ribbon, but it fell out of his hands to the floor.

Toroq dropped his head down, and scuttled off on his hands and knees before breaking into a run on his feet. Breath rattling in his chest, he navigated his way back to where the other men were staying, designating a room for himself and slamming the door shut.

He threw himself back against the door, sinking down fast, running a hand through his wolftail, nearly ruining it, in the process.

His love is the Fire Lord? The Fire Lord, of all people!

All the words Sokka had said to him about his love–about Zuko– came back to him with a vengeance, beating down on him like the Fire Nation sun.

He’s a firebender. A great one. Didn’t Zuko fight an Agni Kai against his sister to vie for the throne? Surely he must’ve proved his mettle then?

He has amazing hair. Really long, but fantastic. When Toroq had seen it, the man’s thick hair was almost down to his hips.

Pale like the moon. Their brief moment out there in the gazebo had proved that enough to Toroq.

Gorgeous. Toroq only had eyes for Yenna, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t see. That he was, Sokka, that he was.

He’s very kind.

Toroq ripped off one of his arms bands, the thing cutting off his circulation and threw it to the floor.

The man whose family waged war against half the world, and decimating a quarter of it! Violence is likely in his blood! I thought Sokka was young, but never this green and stupid!

But when his fury had been quelled, Toroq thought past his fears and notions of the past. Zuko did not look like a genocidal maniac. No, he looked more like a child, bearing weights far too old for him, for far too long. He didn’t look like the type of man who splattered blood to dye his robes, or to use the tears of women and children to wash his hair, the salt from them for his food. He looked like an awkward turtle duck, unsure and quietly overwhelmed by the giants around him, speaking in a language he had yet to understand.

And Sokka. The way Sokka spoke to him with such casualness, calmness and tenderness that Toroq had only seen in his conversations with Yenna. Sokka was a comedian, and quite a funny one at that, but it seemed his jokes came easier around Zuko, like it was a reflex to make his love laugh and smile.

The way Sokka looked at him, if only briefly, his blue eyes shining like the sea on a summer morning, filled with wonder, marvelling how a person could look so beautiful. It reminded him of how he looked at Yenna sometimes, amazed that she was his and he was hers.

The way Sokka’s body seemed to calm as soon as he saw his love again, shoulders drooping and giving an imperceptible breath of relief.

Sokka was young. But he was wise too. And Toroq believed he wasn’t the type to dole out his heart without a second thought. Since his time in the Southern Tribe, Toroq had seen many young girls, most extremely pretty, fawning over him, overtly trying to win his affections. But the man only gave them a placid smile, before conversing with them like he would a business partner; cool and calm, not a dash of teasing flavouring his voice. 

Far more appropriate women had likely approached Sokka over the years, all over the world, most from either the Northern and Southern tribes, trying to worm their way into the young man’s heart, and hopefully, into his home. But all had failed. Hakoda never announced to his people that the tribe would have a future chieftess, loyal at Sokka’s side, prepared to love him. Toroq never saw Sokka so much as grin at a woman in the tribe, a look of quiet annoyance on his face whenever someone tried to woo him.

There must have far easier matches to be made with the women from either tribe, without the judgement from the world around them, or their two homes, as the North and South had never warred with each other so violently as the Fire Nation did with the world.

But it seemed Sokka already had a love. And he wasn’t going to give it up any time soon.

Especially for the sake of ease.

So the Fire Lord must have been a pretty special person, to have won the future chief’s heart– beating for his people fiercely–so utterly and completely, so that anyone else posed no threat at all. That the cries from the world posed little but brief whispers, the knives from dissenters seemed like thorns on a rose blossom: sharp enough to hurt, but not enough to dissuade them from being picked. 

It seemed that Sokka must have been pretty important to Zuko as well, since he was willing to risk forgoing peace, his people, his reputation, all for the sake of being able to kiss him while the sun shined above them, not hidden by royal curtains and the cover of a dark sky. To be able to hold his hand while they wandered the market, while Sokka pointed out a thousand things he wanted to buy. To grow old with him, to see any children they might have grow tall and strong.

A sharp knock sounded at the door. “Hey, we’re all going to dinner right now, so if you’re going–” A deep voice sung.

“No. I think I’ll sleep early.” Toroq cut in, drawn out of his musings. There were footsteps that faded away quickly, likely racing to join everyone else. 

But Toroq stayed sitting there, glued to the door. But he stopped thinking about Sokka and Zuko, and their love. It was theirs after all. He instead began to think of his instead.

Of Yenna. Of the child they would soon have, with plump cheeks, brown skin and high, squealing laughter.

                                                          —--------------

A few minutes later, another knock sounded at the door.

“I said I wasn’t coming to dinner.” Toroq groaned, running a hand over his face.

“Toroq.” A mildly higher pitched voice sounded. As if the floor was on fire, Toroq shot up and opened the door, to reveal Sokka standing on the other side, scratching the back of his neck.

“You sure you’re not hungry?” Sokka asked him, shrugging his shoulders. “I mean the food’s great here! A bit spicy, sure, but still great! Fire buns are my favourite, and Zuko has the kitchens make them every time I’m here. Maybe if I’m feeling generous, I’ll give you one.” Sokka playfully nudged him.

Toroq cleared his throat, twisting his face into a grimace. His stomach almost growled at the mention of food.

But he shoved his stomach to the back of his mind. He had to do this first.

“Sokka, when you told me your love works in the palace, you forgot to mention that he runs the place. Or you know for that matter, that he also runs the country.”

Sokka smiled sheepishly. “So you know.”

“I know. I saw, rather heard, you guys kissing”

Sokka’s eyebrows brunched up together. Toroq realised how that sounded.

“It wasn’t weird or anything! I was just leaving the gazebo, and I saw you guys together. And I saw the necklace.”

“You did?”

“I did. Good craftsmanship, far better than mine.”

Sokka waved a hand down, as if to fan Toroq into modesty. “I don’t know. I think it could be better but he told me he loves it.”

“I’m sure he does.”

“Thank you.”

Sokka smiled again, like a fool. A smart, enamored fool.

“When?”

“Before I left for the tribe, a few months ago. I said he didn’t have to say anything, since I was leaving the next day, but he said yes. Well, he didn’t say it. He just did something else.” Sokka relayed, the last part stretching out, like he was singing a song. A love song.

“I’m happy for you. You guys look very much in love.” Toroq informed him.

“We are. We really are.”

                                                          —--------------

The wedding was beautiful.

Everyone had been invited of course, since it was their heir’s wedding, but Sokka had sent Toroq a quick missive, beforehand, telling him the date and asking if he was available, saying he wanted him to be there.

It was a bit hard to read with changing his son and all, and trying to wipe some vomit off of his furs, but Toroq got the message.

There wasn’t as much outrage from his people as Toroq anticipated, but instead a brief shock followed by giddy joy. These people had all seen Sokka had grown up, and to see that he had found his love, the person to spend the rest of his life with, to feel his hand wrinkle and age in theirs, to watch lines form around his eyes.

Zuko had flown over on the Avatar’s bison a week prior, since there was no need for a retinue of guards to follow him, although technically this was a diplomatic mission. He had only brought with him a young blind earthbender called Toph and one Kyoshi Warrior, by the name of Suki.

Toroq wasn’t there, but he heard that Sokka and Zuko had embraced each other so tight, and for so long that Katara had nearly begged her husband to airbend them apart. However, a few days before the ceremony, the Avatar had mounted his bison again, claiming he was needed for some avatar business.

Katara herself had waterbended some seats for the attendants to sit on, intricate and detailed. The woman has good craftsmanship, he thought as he made himself comfortable, Yenna leaning on his shoulder and his young son babbling in his lap.

Then, the bison flew over them, dropping Zuko off. Toroq didn’t think that a flying bison was part of water tribe marriage rituals, but no one else seemed to mind.

At the edge of a cliff, far from their village, the two grooms sat opposite each other, crosslegged, knees barely brushing each other. They looked into each other’s eyes so intently, that Toroq felt like he was intruding on something, and he was tempted to look away.

Sokka’s grandmother was officiating the ceremony, a tiny smile across her face, a betrothal necklace around her neck as well.

To see the Fire Lord in their blues and furs–wedding blues and furs no less–, a dark betrothal necklace hanging from his neck and his hair braided in such a water tribe way (a blue band tying up half his hair, leaving more to hang down and two dark intricate braids running parallel and curved on his head, before dropping off into the air onto his face) was a bit shocking at first, but then Toroq was moved by the man’s apparent desire to absorb their culture, his future husband’s culture, the culture their children would adopt, to understand it, and take part in it.

When the elders instructed them to take off their gloves to hold each other’s hands, Sokka did so with ease, his hands barely shaking. Zuko didn’t hesitate too, but when now pink, nearly red hands met the open air, even Toroq could see that they began to shake minutely. Not from doubt or nerves, but the cold, which even his body couldn’t adjust to that fast.

But Sokka took his hands gently and tentatively, before clenching onto them tight, encasing Zuko’s fingers in his warmth.

Then, Kanna proceeded through the ceremony, before at the end finally permitting them to stand and kiss.

And they did.

Everyone erupted into a raucous applause, even the bison giving a loud roar which made Toroq’s son giggle with glee.

When they separated, Sokka adjusted the wolf fur on top of his head, likely hunted himself, with a great big grin. Zuko was smiling just as brightly.

When they all returned to the village, ready to celebrate the newlyweds, Sokka whispered something in his now husband’s ear, causing the firebender to turn to him in confusion.

Then a short and chubby man with white hair came from behind a building, causing Zuko to run forward, taking him into a hug.

“Uncle!” The Fire Lord exclaimed with joy. When he pulled away, Iroh kept a firm grip on his arms, looking at him with admiration. “But I thought,” the prince sighed with slight sadness and disappointment, “I asked you to stay to govern over the Fire Nation, while I’m gone.”

“Ah,” the old man exclaimed, “I’m sure the Fire Nation can go without jurisdiction for a few days, my nephew. It’s been over 10 years, they seem to have gotten into the groove of things around there. And besides, how could I miss my only nephew getting married!”

“Uncle, you know I’m getting married again. In the Fire Nation ceremony? In the Fire Nation?”

Iroh shrugged. “I couldn’t miss my only nephew getting married the water tribe way. And the food is amazing here.” He aimed a pointed look at Sokka, smiling fondly at his nephew-in-law over Zuko’s shoulder.

“You strike me as a sea prune kind of man.” Sokka mused, deep in thought.

“And so I shall be! But also, I was told of a penguin sledding competition at some point.”

“Oh, yeah, I almost forgot about that!” Sokka piped up, eyes shining with glee.

“Well, I hoped you did, since you embarrassed yourself so hard at my wedding. And Gran-Gran and Pakku’s wedding. And Dad and Bato’s wedding…” Katara listed, leaning on Aang.

“Yeah, well it’s a good thing I’m not allowed to participate this time, isn’t Katara? I bet you’re happy about that.” Sokka grumbled, before Iroh gently gestured Zuko towards him, and they held hands again, leading every one towards the tribal square.

After the penguin sledding competition (in which Iroh had won by a snowslide, with no bending mind you), the feast began, tables dotting around the square.

But for the festivities to begin, the newlyweds had to dance.

Zuko looked positively terrified, like he was facing an angry, sleep-deprived tigerdillo. Toroq was reminded of Hakoda telling him earlier that dancing was banned in the Fire Nation. Zuko had obviously repealed that law, but Toroq doubted that the Fire Lord had much time for dance practice.

But Sokka, right next to his love, took his hand and led him out into the centre, whispering comforting things into his ear.

Structured dances weren’t all that common in the Southern Water Tribe, mostly coming and going like the stories they told, but there were a few.

The most important was the wedding dance, with only drums as background music. The steps were still fresh in Toroq’s mind.

The drums pounded, the dance began and the lovers started to move with it. 

The dance was meant to mimic waves of water, carrying two fish in it, separated by the tides, but being blessed enough to come together every now and then. The dance was supposed to have chaste and brief touches, tantalising enough that you wanted more, needed more, to remind you about what a life without your love might be like.

Zuko did stumble in some areas, but when they came together, Sokka told him things that left him blushing and laughing when they separated.

From the sound of the drums the dance was nearly coming to an end, and the two fish were about to meet forever. Zuko and Sokka performed the steps perfectly, mimicking each other perfectly, although they couldn’t see each other.

When they did come together and the dance ended, Sokka took their joined hands and kissed the back of Zuko’s gently, causing the other man to grin brightly.

Then, when the applause was done, the rest of the people made their way onto the floor, leaving a wide berth for the newlyweds. Toroq passed his son over to Katara and Aang, who cooed at the baby, while Yenna and he went to dance.

They danced for a while, until the Avatar called them and Zuko and Sokka over.

“You two can get a free ride on a bison. It’s tradition!”

“Aang, I thought the Air Nomads didn’t get married.” Zuko corrected, still holding Sokka’s hand.

“Uh, consider it a new tradition!” Aang said excitedly, clambering over to his bison.

Sokka let Zuko clamber on first, but before he could get on, Toroq pulled him aside.

“Congratulations. I wish you a long and happy life together.” He told him.

“Thank you, Toroq. Thank you so much.” Sokka then gave him a hug, which Toroq quickly returned. When they separated, Sokka immediately climbed up the bison, to sit where his love was, taking each other’s hands again.

Before they took off, Aang warned, “Before we fly, I know you’re newlyweds but inappropriate activity is not sanctioned on this bison. Any funny business and your flying privileges will be revoked.”

Sokka groaned, slapping a hand onto his forehead.

“Just fly Appa, Aang!”

The Avatar made an odd sound, and then the bison took off, sending snow fluttering everywhere. Their son reached for the flakes, giggling.

As Toroq looked down at his wife, then up at Sokka and Zuko, he felt a warm feeling fill his chest.

They had both found their loves. And they weren’t planning to let go anytime soon.