- Memory -
The night was alive in Yukaku.
All around Sokka the long and narrow street that defined Fire Fountain City's most notorious district was awash with sound and color as the humming masses of richly clothed pleasure-seekers wandered in bliss.
Red, orange, and yellow lamps swayed in the summer air on cords over the street, bathing the crowds in warm, passionate hues, hungry eyes darting up at the gaudy colored signs hanging from the red pagoda roofs trimmed with gold.
Girls with painted skin wrapped in silky red knee-high kimonos passed out cards and advertisements to passersby, luring the curious into the many bars, soap-land shops, pink salons, and cabarets that lined the busy street. Some flirted with important looking men or women, winking and smiling, sending their imaginations on wild trips with promises of pleasure.
Escorts and women of the night dressed in luxuriant tight-fitting qipao dresses slinked among the throngs of visitors, pale legs glistening in the red light from behind hip-high slits, their arms and hands interwoven with their clients'. They talked and laughed, their words like the sweetest honey, creating illusions for the unhappy and the lonely.
And there were boys as well, who had their own special roles among the night workers of Yukaku. Peddlers selling goods from the odd to the illicit, promoters in front of clubs dressed in gaudy colored gold-trimmed tunics performing party tricks for interested customers, effeminate escorts in thin silken robes in the arms of their clientele.
Everywhere Sokka glanced as he made his way through the crowds, the scents of a dozen cheap perfumes mixing with the sharp smell of booze, he was reminded of the power this place had over people, how easily their desires could be met.
He looked ahead of him, staring at the back of an army officer with his arm wrapped around the waist of a tipsy escort reeking of cheap beer.
And then he was reminded that he, like the woman hanging helplessly off the shoulder of her client in front of him, had to cater to the people with those desires.
Sokka's eyes narrowed, lips pursed into a small grimace as the memory of what brought him to this horrible place came back to him, shame washing over his mind.
"I love this place at night," a voice purred beside him over the din of music from a nearby club, an arm hooked with his left, fingers tenderly intertwining with his own. "Its wild here. Feels like I'm floating in a red dream, like I'm as young as one of my kids again."
Sokka glanced at the woman beside him holding onto his arm. She was one of his regular clients, a noblewoman with a taste for "skimo" boys, as she liked to call Water Tribesmen, and a penchant for wearing pink cheongsam dresses that hugged her figure.
He still remembered the night she first paid for him – said he was like candy, sweet and addicting. It was a compliment, and perhaps it wasn't meant to sound degrading, but later that same night, when she had left, he did not find peace in her words.
He gave her smile. "I think you've always looked young, Jiang."
Sokka felt a nudge from her elbow as she giggled. "Stop it, you don't mean that."
"Sure I do," Sokka insisted, "Woman like you, looking the way you do right now, I'd never guess. You got so much energy in you that you just wanna let out and I feel it, y'know?"
Her head turned away, trying not to let a grin show as she clung to his arm, her braided ponytail lightly whipping her ear.
"Well, having two daughters tends take a toll on the body, you know," She said, feeling the pink silk of her dress near her stomach, "Agni knows I try to keep in shape in between their bickering and having to make them food. I practically raised them myself. Can't count on my husband or the servants to help me."
"You work hard, Jiang. You're a good mother to them. Sometimes its good to take a break and just have some fun. You deserve it."
"Tell me about it," she chuckled, "I hardly get to go out anymore. Don't ever become a noble with kids, sweetie. It'll be social suicide when your spouse'll get to travel to places you won't ever get to see."
"I wouldn't be here enjoying the night with you if I was. I'm just a skimo boy in the presence of refined and mature company after all," Sokka said.
Something twitched in the back of his neck and he forced himself to give a genuine looking smile, quashing what little pride he had left. That was his job, all part of the illusion, anything to make the client feel catered to and desired.
At Club Hasu there were a few polite terms for boys like him with this kind of job in Yukaku. 'Host' was the commonly used name. Middle-aged noblewomen with taels to spend and time on their hands paid for a night of drinks, games, and conversation with any exotic pretty boy they liked, chosen from a menu like an evening dinner at an up-class restaurant.
Regulars to the club, like Jiang, got special treatment. For a few taels more, they got the boyfriend experience – wandering Yukaku, checking out the sites, drinking, and at the end of it all burn the rest of the night away with a session in one of the love motels that lined the street.
By that point hosts stopped being hosts. People had names for those kinds of boys too, just like they had names for the girls. Boyfriends-for-hire, boy-toys, hokan, kagema, by any other name Sokka couldn't hide the fact he was a whore, just one that promised a romantic experience with the sex.
Jiang's laugh rose into air, mixing with a hundred other voices. She took a breath and eyed him like a piece of savory meat, smirking playfully. Sokka returned the gesture with a knowing smile.
"So, I'm like fine wine now, huh?" Jiang asked as she turned her gaze toward him, painted red lips curving into a curious smile. "What kind would I be?"
"That's an interesting question," Sokka said, looking thoughtful, "I'd say… you know, I'd argue you wouldn't be a wine."
"Oh? How's that?" Jiang asked, raising a manicured eyebrow, looking surprised.
Fighting the impulse to compare her to something worse, Sokka's eyes wander over the red lamps hanging above them as they walked through the crowds, thinking of a comparison she'd like.
"Now, I'm no wine expert or anything. I mean, I'm a water tribesman, I come from a place where melted ice passes for strong drink and we poke whale carcasses for giggles. What do I know, right?" he said.
Jiang chuckled heartily, enveloping Sokka's arm in a tight grip, his sarcasm lost on her.
"Never would have guessed," she said, snaking another arm around his waist, her palm pressing against his ocean blue silken tunic. "You're like a fish when you put away those drinks."
"I swear, sometimes I can't even feel the burn when it goes down," he lied, shrugging with a confident smile. "But, yeah, if you were a drink… I'd say you'd be like Red Dragon's Brew."
Jiang was perplexed for a moment until the name of the brand jogged the memory of the taste. He knew she tasted it before.
She knowingly smiled, looking at him a touch of pride. "That's good stuff."
"It's popular here in Yukaku. Its sweet, velvety in texture, smooth and soft when it goes down…"
Sokka leaned his head closer to Jiang's, his lips and nose brushing against her soft, perfumed skin at the nape of her neck. She hummed, giggling lightly at the pleasant tingle as the fingers of his right arm made playful figure eights over her wrist.
"A lasting, sweet scent," he whispered in her ear. He left out the part where the aftertaste was like moldy rice and the headache the morning after was the equivalent to getting trampled on by a komodo-rhino.
Jiang quivered, smiling as she felt his warm breath on her exposed skin.
"Easy, boy," she said, looking at him with half-lidded eyes, "Were not even at the motel yet."
"Might need to get some of that Red Dragon's Brew along the way then," Sokka said, "Get us fired up."
"Of course we will," she purred, kissing the silk on his shoulder "I'm your sugar mama for the night aren't I? I'll take good care of you, sweetie."
She wasn't wrong either. As a regular client she could afford to waste taels for the kind of extra service Sokka provided. A bottle from one of the many vendors lining the street was nothing.
They walked arm in arm through the red crowds, stopping at liquor shops and bars packed with patrons to try and find the drink they needed, passing fire-twirlers performing on the street, streaks of yellow fire from their batons twisting into dizzying circles in the hazy summer night.
They stopped in front of a calmer, open-air bar, with drunken army draftees in crisp red uniforms lounging next to bottle-filled tables and stools, their arms draped over girls with painted lips and thin red silken dresses.
Sokka spotted the bartender through the small crowd cleaning a glass, but before he could go up to the counter-top Jiang's hand went to his wrist. His eyes widened as he turned to her.
"Why don't you wait at a table for a bit, sweetie," she said, "There's not a big crowd here. I'm sure they still have a bottle left."
Sokka shrugged as she let go of his wrist, finding an unoccupied table next to him and taking a seat.
"Don't keep me waiting," Sokka teased, lounging back in the metal chair, "I'm a fish, remember? And I'm getting awfully thirsty."
Jiang's red lips curled into a fiendish smile. She walked up to him, two fingers placed beneath his smoothly shaven chin, making him look up at her as he smirked.
"Behave yourself boy, at least until we get to the motel."
"No promises," he retorted, gently taking the fingers under his chin and kissing them.
Jiang slipped them away from his grasp, giggling to herself as she strutted away toward the countertop where the bartender was.
Sokka took a deep breath and allowed himself to scowl, looking out onto the busy street. Putting on an act, pretending to be attracted to her, was a drain on him. One slip up, one crack in the illusion he created for her, and it was more than just being kicked out of the job.
Yukaku and all the pleasure districts in the country were legal under Fire Nation law – as long as those activities stayed within the districts. Crime syndicates like the Gokudo in Yukaku practically ran the place, backed by the crown in exchange for a stream of revenue.
If he dissatisfied a client, even by a little, then the owner of his club could write him off as a liability and by that point his fate was as good as sealed.
The Gokudo in Fire Fountain City had a way of dealing with liabilities that made Sokka's neck twitch uncomfortably.
Shaking away thoughts of potential death with a casual sigh, he leaned back in his chair and took in the vibrant atmosphere of Yukaku, breathing in the sweltering air laced with sweat and alcohol.
We was a little tired from walking and the heat made him want stay in one place, but as soon as Jiang would come back Sokka was ready to put on the act again.
As richly clothed men and women passed him by under the red lamps of the of the street, he noticed someone odd walking among them.
It was a girl, not like the ones that stood in front of the bars or clung to the arms of patrons. She was plainly clothed, nothing but an unadorned tunic and worn pants, with a scarf draped around her face. Sokka couldn't tell from the red light but the scarf almost looked yellow, with a strange symbol where her mouth was supposed to be.
As she made her way through the crowds, Sokka noticed something heavy hanging from her shoulder – a satchel. In a way she looked like an ordinary local passing through the district on her way home, but it was clear to him she was walking his way.
His chest pounded as he breathed through his nose and the little hairs on his neck bristled. The girl's brow was as heavy as her satchel and as she drew closer to the bar Sokka could almost see the murder glinting in her eyes.
He sat up in his chair, his eyes darting to the soldiers and working girls lounging around near him, their laughter approaching hysteria, absorbed in their own little world of pleasure.
His eyes widened, mouth agape, his gaze swiftly turning back toward the crowds in the street, desperately searching for the girl. When they found her again, she was already pushing passed people, pulling a thin cord out of the satchel.
His metal chair tumbled backwards as he stood up, clanging against the cobblestones. He found Jiang making her way back toward his table, a bottle of Red Dragon's Brew in her hands, smiling at the soldiers as they made cat calls when she strutted by.
And then the satchel hissed through the air in front of him, a small stream of sparks fading in its wake.
With a desperately, deep breath, his heart pounding, Sokka yelled as loud as he could over the deafening crowds.
"Bomb, bomb! Everyone get do-"
Within seconds there was a blinding orange flash and a deafening crack of thunder. Glass and metal cut through the air as the force of the impact blew Sokka back, shards slicing through his silken tunic.
Light filled his vision and his ears were ringing, the smell of fire engulfing him. Just as quickly as it came, the light and noise faded to nothing.
He awoke with a gasp as he sucked in air though his nose, bright rays of light filtering through the armored slits in the metal passenger cabin of the tank-train, specks of dust dancing in the close air.
He could hear the steel strain, with the sound of rocks pattering incessantly off the metal plates of the tank outside as it rumbled across dirt.
Sokka took in a calming breath as he sat up in his chair, rubbing his eyes, making sure not to brush his fingers too harshly against the cuts on his face.
"Bad dream?"
He blinked his eyes to find Captain Suki of the Kyoshi mercenaries sitting across from him in the cramped passenger cabin, a dismal look on her painted white face, her crisp grass-green uniform in stark contrast to the metal gray of the cabin, wondering why she should be so concerned about him.
"Nah, its nothing. This hunk of steel isn't the most comfortable thing to take a nap in."
He made a fist, tapping out a tune on the armored wall, managing an awkward smile.
"I know," she said, "I hope you're alright to entertain them today. The family won't appreciate you nodding off. That's not what I'm paying you for."
"What are you Captain, my sister?" Sokka retorted, "You're the one who asked me to come up to the Cage again as soon as I was discharged from the hospital."
"Yes, but now I'm not too sure anymore," she said, looking regretful, "Your cuts haven't healed yet and you've been dozing off every five minutes. Didn't you get any rest there?"
Sokka shrugged, uncaring. "Hard to sleep when you got an entire ward filled wounded screamers. I swear it was like a chorus of shrieks at random moments in the night. Talk about rude."
"That's not funny, Sokka. Innocent people got killed in that bombing. You're lucky you came out with just a couple of bruises and scratches."
A twinge of anger ran through him as the memory of Jiang vanishing in a flash of fire and smoke came back to him. He huffed, rolling his eyes as he crossed his arms and slouched in his seat.
"Okay, first of all, you're lucky I didn't blow off an arm or get a concussion or die in that bombing. I mean, where else are you going to find a more charming entertainer than me that can play the oud like a professional?"
"Sokka, that's not-"
"Second of all – innocent? I mean really? Who're you trying to defend here, Captain," He asked curtly, "No one who steps foot in Yukaku is innocent. They know why they come. Everyone there's got a dirty secret to hide and a bad itch to scratch. You have no idea how many ways we can scratch it for you."
"When I say innocent, Sokka, I mean non-combatants," Suki hissed, her tone sharp and quick, "Those rebels that bombed the bar were aiming for the soldiers there. Its sick that they would terrorize people who aren't even fighting them."
For a mercenary, Sokka wondered why she had such high morals. Compared to the groups he ran into in the fractured Earth Kingdom years before he got stuck in the Fire Nation, the Kyoshi Warriors seemed too good.
"More like a pack of drunken kids in uniform, really," he said, shaking his head, "If Ol' Azulon thinks he can quash a rebellion with levies barely hitting puberty he's got another thing coming. And don't act like the rebels didn't know non-combatants were gonna get caught in the blast."
"I didn't say-"
"Its terror, Captain. All about scaring the crap out of your enemy. Hit the rich and powerful in their playground, yeah? Blow 'em up where they think they're safe, where they least expect it, and you shake 'em up pretty good. You know this. Basics, right?"
Suki sat up straight, crossing her arms in front of her breastplate, a hard scowl plastered on her face as he glared at him.
"You sympathize with their struggle," she said, her tone serious.
Sokka raised his hands up by his sides, feigning surrender.
"Y'got me, Captain," he smirked, "I admit it. I do sympathize with the bastards that mauled me. Clearly, I was meant to writhed in agony while the doctors stitched me up, because it was obviously apart of a bigger plan to get me to join them."
Sokka rolled his eyes while Suki continued to glare at him. She looked like she wished the rebels had killed him.
He returned the gesture. "My night was ruined too, y'know. Wiping the blood out of your eyes and picking glass out of you ass tends to equate to what we in the Biz call A Really Bad Time."
Her eyes quickly narrowed and wandered to the many nobs and pipes clinging to the walls of the passenger cabin, her jaw tensing up as she grinded her teeth. Sokka could barely hear her growl over the rumbling of the tank's engine.
For a time neither of them spoke, refusing to look at each other, waiting for time to pass as they felt the tank-train lurch down hill over a rocky trail, making both of them lean in their seats.
Sokka occupied his time by staring up at the gauges jutting out from the cabin's ceiling, tightly clutching the oud he carried with him in a burgundy protective case on his lap.
Suki broke the silence. "You got a mouth on you, Sokka, you know that?"
He blinked a few times before raising an eyebrow, feigning ignorance. "Oh, so that's what this damn thing is called! Thanks Captain Obvious for finally naming one of the things that people pay me to use."
She looked away as she rolled her eyes, letting a small, cynical chuckle escape her.
"Spirits, no wonder this screwed up family likes you being around them," she admitted, shaking her head slowly, "I guess you are feeling okay today."
"I'm a personable guy that attracts screwed up people, Captain," he shrugged, lazily smiling, "Just, uh, give me a glass of water or something quick to eat and maybe a pair of one of those round sun-glasses and I'll be okay."
Suki looked unsure of what he meant. "Why would you need sun-glasses?"
"Other than the fact I look amazingly sexy with them on?" he asked rhetorically, "C'mon, Suki, I don't really want the family to ask questions about why I was sucker punched in the face by a flying brick."
She let out a long sigh, rubbing the bridge of her pale white nose.
"Fine," Suki said, reaching to the sash wrapped around her waist, pulling out a pair. "Mine are cheap anyway. You do know they're going to ask you questions anyway, right? Especially since you've been gone for longer than usual."
Sokka reached out and took the sunglasses, resting the frame on his forehead. He lightly rubbed his chin, grazing over the scabs, as he considered her words.
"I'll just play things by ear I guess. If they won't ask, then I won't tell," he shrugged.
"Good. And keep it brief and vague, like we agreed. This rebellion is small, got it? Nothing to worry about."
"Yeah, yeah, I got it," Sokka pouted wearily, rolling his eyes.
"Lady Ursa will appreciate the fact that you've returned," Suki continued, "She's had a rough week trying to keep her kids from tearing each other's throats out."
"Oh, the joy of parenthood."
"You might want to speak with her first if she's not with Lord Zuko. She could use the distraction… and maybe a drinking partner."
Sokka sighed, shaking his head. "Terrific. What about Lord Zuko and Lady Azula?"
"Zuko's been… tolerable. He's been less of a short fuse lately, but Lady Azula tends to ruin that pretty quickly. I set him straight and his mother counsels him. If you manage to get them together for five minutes without them bickering it would be a miracle."
There was something in the tone of her voice that seemed off to Sokka, though he couldn't quite place it.
"Since when are you on a first name basis with the guy, Captain?" he asked.
She blinked twice, her eyes wide. "What?"
"You called him Zuko. Just Zuko. You friends with him now or something?"
For a moment Suki's face was blank. Then she shook her head, as if trying to wake herself out of a daze.
"It's been a long week, Sokka. I've had to manage my girls and try to keep the servants from getting hurt by the family. Well, by one family member really. Sometimes it's a bit tiring using honorifics."
He wasn't convinced by her half-hearted excuse, but Sokka let it slide. If she had secrets to keep he'd find out eventually. It always made for juicy conversation.
"Sure thing, Captain," Sokka said, trying to sound as genuine as possible, "So, then… what about Lady Azula?"
Suki didn't look so pleased with that question. He could hear her growl audibly at the mention of her name.
"Just her usual self," she said, muttering something profane under her breath. "You'll definitely need to keep her occupied. I don't know how you manage to stand her company, but just do what you've always done, okay?"
A light smirk touched Sokka's lips, feeling a surge of excitement. "Hey, its part of the reason you pay me for, right? She's not the worst I've had to spend time with. I mean she hasn't tried to throw a bomb in my face while sipping wine. That's a plus."
"Give it some time then. Everyone in the Cage pisses her off to some degree."
"I won't hold my breath."
A harsh grinding sound penetrated their ears, gears and pistons creaking under an enormous strain on the cabin as the tank-train came to a slow, grinding halt. Sokka could hear steam whistle through the pipes as pressure was released through exhaust ports, rocks crunching beneath treads as the steel beast settled into the dirt.
"Finally here," Sokka breathed, relieved, shouldering his instrument case, "'Bout time we got out of this stuffy metal box."
A red light flicked on and the massive ramp at the back of the passenger cabin slid open with a teeth-rattling screech, fresh air and a blinding light washing over Sokka as he and Suki stood up.
As the ramp finally dropped to the dirt, they made their way out into the afternoon sun, a clear sky overhead. Sokka breathed in the cool mountain air as a light gust blew past him, faint black dust whipping by.
His eyes adjusted to the light and he was greeted to a breathtaking sight.
He stood in the interior of a vast, extinct caldera, its jagged lips towering over him, the rock almost coal black, overtaken by patches of lush green grasses and bushes. He could barely make out the stark white pedals of panda lilies that grew along the wide mountain path carved into the steep cliffs.
He gazed outward across the ancient, deep blue lake, the calm waters rippling in the wind, listening to the silence of nature.
"Quite a view. Hard to believe there used to be lava in place of a lake," he said.
"Yeah," Suki agreed standing along side him, "But Mount Heilong won't erupt anytime soon. Come on, the family's waiting."
Turning away, Sokka followed Suki passed the resting tank-train along the path, gazing upon the imposing facade of the Black Cage.
It was palace and prison carved out of the rock of the caldera, the coal black structures clinging stubbornly to the cliff like a fire gecko. Each of the main buildings were closely clustered, the crimson roof tiles and enclosed terraces overlooking the lake, crowned by brilliant gold flame pagodas.
Sokka had seen palaces and estates before, but he had never known a prison could look so enchantingly beautiful.
"Y'know, I just gotta keep sayin' it, Captain," Sokka said, smiling mischievously at the Kyoshi Warrior as they walked.
Suki tried not to groan too much. "Please don't."
"If this prison, which I still don't think is really a prison, were a woman-"
"Stop."
"- I'd take it out for a fancy dinner, right? Get to know her-"
"Please, shut up," She moaned between gritted teeth, trying to look composed.
"- And then I'd make sweet, sweet love to her. I'm paying this place a compliment, Captain. It's a beautiful prison."
"Spirits almighty, Sokka, can you please just stop talking until we get inside?"
He answered her with a hearty chuckle, ignoring her irritation.
They came to the small yet fortified gate guarding the only entrance to the Black Cage, Kyoshi Warriors manning emplaced repeating crossbows along the ramparts, looking down on the pair as they approached.
"Open the gate!" Suki ordered.
Slowly, rusted iron creaked at the hinges as the noise echoed through the air.
"Show time, pretty boy," she said, taking in a short breath, clasping the hilt of her sword hanging off her hip. "Lets see if you're still worth the taels we waste on you."
Sokka smirked, a finger flipping the round sunglasses down over his eyes.
"Keep wasting 'em."
A cool breeze washed over Azula, making the wind chimes hanging nearby in the small, secluded courtyard play a melodious, lonely tune, the afternoon sun setting over the distant horizon.
Sweat trickled down her forehead and her sleeveless red training tunic and pants clung to her skin, permeated by her own odor. It didn't matter to her. It could be the scent of determination for all she cared. Azula just wanted an excuse to move, to fight, to release her energy.
She went through the over-practiced motions of one last form, taking the calming breaths required for the move, halting to momentum of her aggression used to give her strength through her entire training session.
She struck her stance, as if riding a horse, planting her feet firmly against the smooth white-stone tiles. Closing her eyes and extending her arms out, she swayed from left to right in graceful circles and for a fleeting moment Azula thought she could feel the chi within her flow through her arms.
A mantra incessantly repeated itself in her mind, willing her to let go of her emotions, to concentrate, to isolate, to separate.
She could feel something deep within her desperate to break out, to surge forward in a blinding flash of light. Her heart pounding, she rapidly shot out her right arm, her two fingers extended, the nails of the other two sinking deep into her palm.
Nothing.
No lightning streamed from her arm, no blue spark of fire, not even a hint of warmth. The wall she aimed at was still there, the cold wind making her shutter, loose strands of hair falling from her topknot.
She caught her breath, wiping the strands of hair from her eyes, her jaw tightening into a grimace. She glared down at the metal gauntlet on her right forearm, making a fist as her muscles flexed. She could feel the studs embedded in the inside of the gauntlet dig into her skin, closing off every vital pressure point to inhibit the flow of chi.
Azula growled between her teeth. "Damn it…"
It was futile. She would run herself into exhaustion if she kept this up any longer. It angered her, but just as she was imprisoned in a cage of stone, her energy to bend fire was effectively trapped.
Blinking, she could hear footsteps echo through the courtyard near its entrance. She found Captain Suki and two other Kyoshi mercenaries flanking her, hands on the grips of their swords hanging at their waists.
Suki bowed her head just enough to make it seem respectful, her eyes briefly drifting to the gauntlets on her forearms. Azula could have sworn she saw her red lips curve into a smirk, proud that the gauntlets she had placed on her and her brother were doing their job.
"Lady Azula," Suki said briefly.
The former princess didn't return the gesture, only glaring at her as she crossed her arms in front of her chest.
"What do you want?" her voice threatening.
"I've come to tell you that your usual entertainment for the evening has returned."
Azula felt a sudden, ecstatic jolt course through her chest that heated her blood. She crushed the feeling with a short intake of breath. She would not give the captain the satisfaction of looking excited.
"I see. I suppose mother and Zuko are already enjoying his company."
"Lady Ursa is already in the Celestial Room with Sokka, but Lord Zuko will not be joining them," Suki said, her tone bearing subtle anger, her grip on the hilt of her sword tightening, "She said he was still tending to an injury he got during a sparing session with you while I was away."
Azula smiled viciously. "He bruises so easily, Captain, and he complains to mother about every little bump I give him. He can wallow in his pain for all I care. He clearly cannot keep up with me as a sparing partner. I am too advanced for him. Perhaps one of your warriors is more on par with him."
Suki's eyes narrowed and Azula could see her jaw tightening behind her nauseatingly white face paint.
"Duly noted, Lady Azula," she said, practically hissing, "Will you not be joining your mother in the Celestial Room this evening then?"
It was a more complicated question than Azula was willing to admit. Her mind was a whirlwind of anger and bitterness, the image of her mother scolding her burned into her memory. She fought the urge to hide away from the world.
Azula ruminated on her response for too long and Suki took advantage of her apparent discomfort.
"They're only drinking tonight, Lady Azula," she said with the faintest hint of a smirk, "And Sokka brought the oud with him. It seems he's had a tiring week as well. Don't think too much on it."
A searing spark was lit in Azula's chest and she felt a powerful urge to watch the captain slowly burn in a blaze of blue fire. She glowered at Suki, keeping her breathing even, wanting nothing more than to watch the girl suffer.
"I will be joining them for the evening, Captain," Azula stated, "Just as soon as I am dressed."
"Very well, Lady Azula, I will let them know you'll be on your way as soon as you're ready."
"Good. Then you had better get to it, Captain," Azula said, walking passed Suki, "I know how eager you must be to check up on my brother."
Before Azula went down the hall toward her room in the eastern wing, she caught a glimpse of Suki's eyes widening in shock. She smirked, hearing Suki's growl echo through the hallway.
The Celestial Room was lavishly furnished with some the most exquisite pieces the Black Cage had to offer.
The walls were painted a deep crimson red, festooned with brightly colored murals and intricate golden designs. Burgundy pillows lay about on the lush, cushioned floor, the embroidered symbol of the Fire Nation adorned upon the carpets. Gauzy red curtains hung from the ceiling along side brass chandeliers, fresh candles burning in the evening light as it filtered through intricate wrought iron grills.
At the center of it all was a low-lying table made of varnished ash-black wood, the scent of salted pistachios and fresh fruits hovering pleasantly through the room, laid next burgundy bottles of grape wine.
Azula entered to the sound of clinking glasses and laughter, struck by how much it resembled a typical room in her old villa in the capital city just before her family was forced to live in the Cage.
She pushed those memories aside, refusing to think back upon those days with a false sense of nostalgia. All she wanted to focus on was the present moment, humming with anticipation for what the evening may promise for herself.
Approaching the table at the center of the room with an air of confidence, the fiery ache in her chest returned, her keen yellow eyes raking voraciously over the boy laughing with her insufferable mother.
He wore a black changshan and loose fitting red pants that sheened in the evening light, collar and sleeves bordered in gold, hair tied up into a traditional Fire Nation topknot crowned by a small flame hairpiece. Handsome in the formal sense to be sure, but she much preferred his hair down and messy with her long fingers tangled within the strands.
Her mother was unsurprisingly conservative, wearing comfortable, courtly robes with long loose sleeves, a carry-over from the days before their imprisonment, when they could still be called royalty.
Azula was, unfortunately, no different, dressed in dark crimson robes with loose fitting sleeves that covered the chi-blocking gauntlets on her forearms, the gold trimmed mandarin collar irritating her neck, her hair immaculately tied up in the traditional royal topknot.
Sokka turned his shaded eyes away from her mother as they lay on the cushions, setting the cup he'd been drink from down on the table and standing up from his seat.
"Hey, there she is!" Sokka gushed, a wide grin on his face as he bow, extending his arms out as he did so, "Its good to see you again, m'lady."
It was oddly more respectful than Suki's attempt at a bow, but perhaps it was because Azula absolutely loathed the captain. She gave a small, self-satisfied smile, pleased with his gesture.
"I'm sure it is good to me again, Sokka," Azula said, making the slightest effort to bow her head, hands folded behind her. "But I can only imagine how much you have missed our family's company."
She turned to her mother, who was void of any expression as her deep yellow eyes scrutinized her, holding a bronze cup of wine in her delicate hands. The confident smile dropped from Azula's face and a bitter flame fanned in her heart.
"Mother," she stated in a controlled tone, devoid of emotion, "I have come to join you and Sokka this evening."
Her mother's gaze lingered on her, contemplating her words, before raising the cup of wine to her lips, taking a brief sip, and looking away from her as she put the cup down on the table.
"Then you had better sit, my daughter," Ursa said, turning toward Sokka with a softer gaze, "As I said to you before, she and Zuko have had a tiring day of training."
Sokka looked back to Azula and smiled knowingly, his hand wisely gesturing to the cushions opposite of Ursa.
"Always nice to relax a bit after a good sweat," he said.
Azula turned away from Ursa and made her way to the space across from her, sitting closer to Sokka and gently laying against one of the larger cushions. A brief flash of uncertainty crossed Sokka's face, his eyes darting to Ursa, before taking his seat again, reaching out to the wine bottle and pouring her daughter a cup.
"Even better to do so when one is with pleasant company," Azula commented, staring at Ursa, "Would you agree, mother?"
She didn't look at Azula, taking her time as she picked a single pistachio from a bowl and gently placing it between her lips. She reclined back in the cushion she was sitting against, biting down on the nut with an audible crack, before leveling a searing gaze on her.
Azula tried not to scowl, waiting for a response as Sokka handed her a cup, the tips of their fingers brushing against each other.
"Of course I would. It's a shame Zuko is not here with us as well though," she said, reaching for her wine cup as she looked toward Sokka, "It may not seem obvious, but he does enjoy when you play the oud. You're quite good at it."
Azula rolled her eyes after sipping a bit of wine. "I believe brother is still sulking in his room, mother. I cannot imagine why, really. Did Captain Suki not inform him that we would be having entertainment for the evening?"
Ursa was expressionless, staring at Azula. "You know as well as I do he is still healing from his sparring session with you."
She casually studied the elaborate design on her wine cup. "Such a fragile boy when it comes to his pride, really. Barely scratch him and his spirit to fight just drains away. He leaves himself open far too much, mother. I am honestly just showing him the necessity of being more aggressive."
"You drew his blood," Ursa stated, her tone as hard as stone, her gaze toward Azula unblinking. "Made him spit it out through his teeth."
"He did the same to me in a previous sparring session," Azula shrugged casually, drinking more of her wine, "A cut on my lip. One of his rare, lucky moments of course, and yet here I am, out and about, enjoying fine company while he mopes around in his room."
She could see her mother's jaw subtly tighten and her brow become heavier. Azula brushed it off, taking a long sip from her cup before gently placing it on the table, plucking grape from a bowl and eating it.
Sokka was silent, ruminating on the proper words to break the tension, before Ursa placed her cup down on the table.
She broke the brief silence, making her voice as pleasant as possible.
"Perhaps I should check on him then. I wouldn't want him to feel down after all," she said, looking away from Azula as she stood up.
Ursa smiled politely at Sokka. "I'm so glad we could catch up again, Sokka. I look forward to your next visit. Please, take care of yourself."
"Of course, Lady Ursa," Sokka managed awkwardly, smiling at her. "Have a good evening."
As her mother turned to leave, Azula could see the anger flicker behind her yellow eyes as she shot her a brief glare, making her way out of the room.
Silence hung in the air as both Sokka and Azula sat among the cushions, watching the sliding door to the Celestial Room close a loud crack.
"Finally," Azula breathed, taking her cup and drowning the anger she felt with a gulp of wine. "I thought she would never leave. Mother is so tiresome, really."
Sokka raised an eyebrow as he turned to her. "Well, she was only here with me for an hour before you came. Just drinking and talking."
"That's long enough for her," Azula said, setting down the cup on the cushioned floor, inching her way toward him, a playful smirk curling her lips, "And now I have you to myself."
Sokka's eyes widened as Azula pressed her fingers to his chest, making him lean back against the large burgundy cushion where he sat. Then, her hands glided to his knees, pushing them apart as she made him open his legs.
"Uh, what are you doing?" asked Sokka, his face going red as Azula smiled mischievously to herself.
"Is it not obvious to you yet?" she asked him, standing on her knees.
"I have, like, several things going through my mind on what you're trying to do," Sokka said, extending his arms out and resting them on the wide cushion in back of him. "I mean I know you must've missed me but-"
"You really have an imaginative mine, don't you?" she smirked.
Grabbing a bowl of grapes behind her, she inched her way toward him, nestling in the space between his legs, resting her back against his chest and settling her palms on his legs like armrests, setting the bowl of grapes beside them.
"Ah, much better," she breathed contently, the back of her head resting on his left shoulder, practically melting into him. "You make a good chair."
"Oh, joy, my life's work has paid off," Sokka said, her lustrous black hair brushing against his cheek, "I have finally become a piece of furniture."
She chuckled at the apt remark, his firm, wiry body humming warmly against her own, feeling a familiar, tantalizing purr escape from her.
"You are my throne for the evening," she smirked, reaching up to kiss his neck just below his left ear. "The highest class of furniture."
The warmth of his skin tingled her lips, leaving a light smear of red lipstick where she kissed him.
"Gonna paint me in gold too?" he asked, "I heard that makes anything extra classy."
"Not quite," she said, crossing her legs as she settled into him, snapping her fingers and pointing at the bowl of grapes. "Feed me."
Shrugging, Sokka complied and picked a fresh grape out of the bowl. Azula opened her mouth as he brought it to her lips, but just as she was about to bite he pulled it away at the last second.
He chuckled. "Oop, so much for reflexes, huh?"
She smirked up at him, narrowing her eyes. "Funny guy."
"I'm hilarious actually."
When he brought the grape to her lips again he snatched it away a second time, giggling like an amused child playing with a cat. Azula slapped his knee lightly, shaking her head.
"You play with fire, boy," she teased, "Watch out – you might get hurt."
"Ooh, so intimidating," he said, playing with the grape between his fingers. "To bad for you I'm not scared of getting a little burned."
Azula smiled fiendishly at him, her right hand gliding to rub his neck affectionately, grazing against the scabs and cuts.
This time she was able eat her grape and for a while she ate in blissful peace, closing her eyes and resting her head on Sokka's shoulder, chewing slowly, letting it all sink in.
The fatigue from Azula's training earlier that day began to crawl over her, her joints aching in small places on her body, but she could not feel more relaxed than at that moment, with succulent food to eat and a warm boy to rest upon.
She opened her eyes and looked up at him as he reached for another grape, taking a slow deep breath as she folded her hands in her lap.
"So…"
"Yeah?"
"When were you going to tell me how you got those cuts on your face?"
Sokka briefly froze just as he was about to take another grape. He plucked it from the bowl and held it to her waiting mouth as her deep yellow eyes studied him.
He was quiet, thinking of the answer as he hummed awkwardly.
Azula swallowed the grape. "And those stupid sunglasses… have you suddenly gone blind?"
He bit his lip and smiled at her. "Didn't think it was important enough to bring up."
"Ah, but it was worth telling my mother about?" she asked pointedly, almost glaring at him.
"… Well, you got me there," Sokka admitted.
"Of course I do," Azula said, reaching her hand up to his chin, making him look at her. "Take them off. I want to see your eyes."
Sokka's lips pursed, looking unsure. He finally relented with a deep sigh, taking them off with both hands.
She found his left eye heavily bruised and purple, while his right eye had scabs healing around it, the eye itself slightly red.
Her jaw tensed with rage as she let go of his chin. She felt a desire to run a bolt of lightning through someone.
"Tell me," she said. It wasn't a question.
He looked at her, contemplating his words, before looking toward the door. The wood creaked outside as someone, most likely a Kyoshi mercenary, passed by.
He kept his voice low. "Someone bombed a bar in Yukaku when I was out one night. I got caught in the blast. My club owner made me stay in a hospital to get patched up."
She kept a cool exterior as she listened, but every word made her want to kill the people who cut her boy's face.
"Who did it," she asked, her jaw tightening.
"Just some rebel," he said, his eyes drifting away from her, looking distant, as he seemed to recall a gruesome memory.
Azula was livid. Her grandfather was too old and incompetent to stop things like this from happening and for whatever reason Sokka was out that night, she could guarantee herself that it was with some lecherous, aging noblewoman.
She wanted to burn something so badly. The studs pressing against her forearms and legs from the gauntlets only fanned the twisted desire.
"And so you live another day," she said.
Sokka blinked, shaking himself out of his daze, gazing down at her.
"Yeah. Another day a prisoner, living like a privileged guest," he said, looking thoughtful.
"Same as me?" she asked, reaching up to stroke his chin, grazing her thumb against a cut.
"Yeah. Same as you," he said, smiling warmly at her, wrapping his firm arms around her as he pulled her close, his warm chest pressing against her back.
She felt something in that moment, the blue in his eyes staring back at her. It was as if his smile told her of an unspoken, fervid connection, a sense of being reassured, that he was undeniably prejudiced in her favor.
She relished the feeling of his arms around her, her chest thrumming ardently. Azula leaned her head back against his shoulder, tasting the warmth of his skin with her lips, her right hand clasping the back of his head.
He was so intoxicatingly sweet and she purred when his lips found hers, his palms pressed against the silk of her robes as they glided up from her stomach toward her chest, his waist teasingly grinding against her lower back.
Azula didn't feel so tired anymore and the memory of earlier events that day seemed to slip away.
A/N:
Thank you for reading! See you next Saturday!
If you would like to see more Sokkla writing challenge, please visit The Crying Demon: Sokkla Forum here on FF, where we have a variety of challenges listed.
Check out PurplePlatypusBear21's "Blue Eyes, Blue Fire" or Clarielparke's "Saturnalia" for more Sokkla Saturdays content.
