Sokka sat silently by the bed of the sleeping firelord, his blue eyes watching the rise and fall of the raven haired boy's chest, the nakedness of the flesh drawing his eyes to the paleness of it, causing the water tribesmen to shift in his seat.
Leaning forward slightly, Sokka could feel the heat that radiated from the Zuko's body, feeling the fever burning him almost like the fire that swam through his friend's veins, the flames that created this being before him, so passionate but quiet, it captured his heart. The familiar tendencies that, after months of living together, Sokka had begun to notice, like the slight caresses, the slight quirk of the firebender's smile, the wrinkling of his nose, all of which conveyed his emotions so much better than his words, and until yesterday, Sokka had never seen the older boy's sign for sorrow.
Looking back at the black haired man, a sigh escaped his lips, as he leaned heavily against the chair that he had set up next to the firelord's bed in order to keep a over night virgil over the sleeping boy. Katara entered the room, her steps quiet, as she made her way to the overly large bed, carrying in her hands a ornately decorated urn, her eyes sad and crestfallen.
"How is he?" she asked, her blue eyes looking down at the sleeping boy, filling with pity and sorrow.
Sokka just sat back in the chair, his hands enveloping his face as he tiredly scrubbbed the stubble on his chin."He tosses and turns, and screams...the guards have been in here a few times because it got so bad. Apparently this is new to them, they all seemed as surprised as I was." explained Sokka, some unknown force dragging his eyes over to the sleeping fire lord.
Katara sat tiredly on the bed, gently stroking the black haired man's hair from his face, watching as Zuko stirred uneasily in his sleep, as he struggled against some unknown force, making him cry out, though not enough to wake himself as scarred firelord battled the demons in his dreams.
"Why the nightmares?" said Katara, as she looked at the struggling boy, her brow furrowing as the strong, stoic princeling was reduced to a whimpering bundle. She sighed, watching as her image of the king crumbled into that of a scared, scarred child, who was made to endure night terrors.
"Maybe I can help answer that question for you." said a older voice from the door.
The brother and sister turned, both taking defensive stances, in order to protect their fallen comrade. Sokka was the first to relaxe looking into the kind eyes of Iroh, his golden brown eyes filled with some kind of unnamed emotion. Katara relaxed, a smile making its way onto her face, when those kind eyes turned to look at the sleeping ebony haired boy.
"Iroh, we thought you were heading out in the morning." said Katara, offering the older man a seat next to his nephew.
Iroh took it, his face gentlying even more when he saw the young boy sleeping in the bed. "I decided against it. Zuko needs me here, especially after this recent loss." explained the elderly man, as he shushed the sleeping boy, running his index finger across the teen's sharp cheekbone.
Sokka nodded in understanding, settling back into his seat, and getting comfortable in the plush chair. Katara seated herself on the floor, her long legs tucked underneath her lithe body as she prepared herself for a story, leaning her back against the legs of her brother.
Iroh looked at the two teens, his dark brown eyes saddening slightly, the older man's wrinkled hand coming to rest on his nephew's forehead as he began the story that had been a long time in waiting. The small group of people looking up as they heard a knock on the large elaborate doors, opening to reveal Aang and Toph, who soon were settled down to listen as well. "Now as you know my nephew was a very angry and conflicted person when you first met him. He was not always like that but some of the events in his life caused this change in his personality to occur. Remember to keep in mind that most of these events were brought on by my father and Ozai."