"Open up, darling, it's me," Sokka said lightly after rapping on the outside of Azula's cabin door. The door immediately popped open a crack, revealing Azula's raging gaze and a heavy scowl. "Hello, lover."
"Shut your fu-"
He cut her off, making her take a hasty step backward or get hit in the face with the door as he shouldered it open. He closed it behind him with a bang.
"I told you not to call me that, I-" she started, puffing up like a snake about to strike. He headed her off at the pass; she'd laid into him a few times the last couple of days of their journey across the seas and he knew the signs well enough. She'd been stewing.
"We're pulling into port. Are you packed?"
She looked startled by the news, perhaps because the journey had taken so much longer due to the rough seas, so that the normal few days trip had stretched into one long, stormy week. Even Sokka had begun to suspect that bad luck was following them onto the unknown shores of the Fire Nation.
He was hoping to avoid any more bad luck, however, by getting off of this ship as soon as they'd touched the docks. Jeiwang's threat of turning them in when they reached the Fire Nation, looking for a bounty, had not fallen on deaf ears, Sokka had a feeling Jeiwang was only biding his time.
He certainly didn't like that Jeiwang hadn't done anything else after Sokka had nearly strangled him to death. That meant the man was plotting something, and he'd be stupid not to take the man's threat seriously. He'd read Mai's dossier on Tazeo. The man had done some terrible things in the Fire Nation. There was probably a reward.
Since they were going covert on this mission, it wouldn't do to be arrested the minute they got into port. And it definitely wouldn't be good if anyone was alerted that the Princess of the Fire Nation was back.
"Are we rushing?" she drawled, even as she grabbed up a well-worn pack and slung it over one bony shoulder. She was already dressed, wearing a pale peach undershirt and a dark red vest and matching breeches, with heavy leather boots. Her hair was braided back into a long plait, thrown over one shoulder.
He was wearing Fire Nation clothing now too, a red, open vest a few shades darker than hers, with matching pants and pointed shoes. His undercut was still growing out and stubbly beneath his concealing hair, but the scrum of beard on his face was dark and prickly. The tattoos on his arms were dark against his brown skin.
"We're definitely not dawdling," he said shortly, leading her out of the little cabin. "I don't trust Jeiwang not to make good on his threat to turn us in."
"Not up to a fight? Typical," she mumbled, but he swung on her, scowling as he glanced at the sooty scorch mark on the wall behind her. She'd thrown a fireball at him in a fit of rage last night, after he'd insisted she eat the bowl of soup he'd taken from the cramped galley. He hadn't really blamed her for turning her nose up at it. The cook on the ship ought to have been keelhauled for his crimes against food, but he had insisted she eat at least half of it.
The words "bastard" and "peasant" had been thrown at him, along with the fireball, but he'd stood his ground. Eventually Azula slurped the soup in one big gulp and then threw the half-empty bowl at him. He may have deserved it a little, but at least she wasn't going to pass out on him. And he'd thrown away the soup-covered shirt. The grease stains looked permanent.
"Could we leave the taunts to when we're on dry land, sweetums?" Sokka said through his teeth as Azula's eyes flashed and he saw a sneer curl her lips.
Her fiery retort stuttered out when they both felt the ship shudder beneath them, the engines slowing as they neared the port. Sokka grabbed his pack from where he'd left it, and together they crept up onto the deck.
Keeping well back against the wall, they spotted the docks as the helmsman swung the ship into a controlled and slow arch that would bring them alongside the docks. Workers on the docks were already preparing the guy lines to tie the ship to the heavy iron moors.
"So what's the plan?"
"Can you make the jump over the side the minute we get close?"
She made an offended noise and glanced sidelong at him. "Please."
"That's the girl I married," he said. "So spirited."
"I will murder you," she hissed at him, but he just flashed her a mocking smile and then tightened his hold on his pack.
"Get ready. Hit the ground and keep running. We need to be as far away from this ship as possible, as soon as possible."
The ship slowed, the massive propellors chugging water as they neared the dock. Just fifteen feet...ten feet...five feet...two feet...
"NOW!" Azula ground out and she was off, her feet pounding on the deck. She vaulted over the side as Sokka followed in her wake. He put one hand on the railing and jumped over, wheeling into space gracelessly, one hand on his pack to keep it from flying over his head.
He hit the deck with a jarring bang that vibrated up his muscular legs, but he rolled with the momentum, coming up on his feet after several revolutions across the slippery wooden planks. He gained his feet again, digging in as he caught sight of Azula's dark braid flying behind her; she was already ten feet ahead.
Hoisting his pack, he heard the sailors on the ship scream something after them, but didn't look back. His eyes were on Azula, tearing through the crowds on the docks. When his feet hit solid earth, he felt his knees wobble a little, adjusting to life on land after a week on a heavy sea. He skidded into an alley that Azula had disappeared into only moments before.
If he didn't know better, he would say that Azula was trying to lose him...
Leaping upended rubbish bins, he dug in, letting his powerful legs eat the ground between them. She was fast, but his legs were longer, covering twice the distance as hers. Within minutes, as they tore through the streets of the harbor town, from alley to alley, down wide avenues, past crowds and inns, and marketplaces alive with commerce and conversation, he chased Azula until she skidded into another alley.
He caught her by the arm without thinking. Wheeling her around, he found himself dodging a handful of flames. He wasn't exactly shocked, but he hadn't expected it. He dodged the fireball, which burst upon the bricks behind him as Azula, gasping, sweat running down her temples, wrenched her arm free of his grip.
"Don't touch me!"
"I think we're safe!" he panted, though he didn't seem as out of breath as she was. She looked pale all of a sudden, her eyes wide and rolling in their sockets. "We're nearly on the edge of town, there's no way-"
"You put your hand on me again and I'll kill you!" Azula snarled, slamming one hand into the center of his chest and pushing him back against the sooty, hot brick wall. Flames bloomed in her other hand, which shook as she trembled in front of him. "I'll kill you. I'll kill you. I'll kill you!"
Sokka put up his hands in surrender, staring down into her white face and the blank terror in her gaze. It was the same look she'd had on her face in his office, when he'd pinned her down.
"Okay, I won't! I'm sorry..." he said hastily and then took a deep breath. "Hey, calm down, okay? Azula."
But she didn't seem to be seeing him; her gaze was distant, the trembles wracking her frame were making her teeth chatter. A wave of cold nausea crept over him as he saw the fear in her eyes.
Whatever she was seeing, he didn't think it was him.
"Azula? It's me, it's Sokka," he said in a soothing voice he'd heard Katara use a time or two, but had never quite mastered. Where was his sister now? She was so good at this kind of thing. "Hey, look at me, look at me. Azula...come back to me..."
Something in her gaze changed, became present again. "Sokka?"
He managed a nervous smile. "That's me. Are you with me?"
She glanced at the hand pinning him to the wall and then at the flames dancing madly above her palm, as if she was only now becoming aware of her limbs.
With a wet swallow, she banished the flames and stepped back, licking her lips. "I..."
"I shouldn't have grabbed your arm, I'm sorry. It was my fault," he said heavily, pushing away from the wall and picking up the pack that had slipped off of his arm. He swung it across his shoulder again and looked down at her. "I promise, I won't touch you again. I'm sorry."
He tried to put a lot of things into that promise, but he didn't know if she was present enough to pick them up. It was important that he let her know, though, that he understood. Or at least, that he thought he did. That he was trying to.
Azula met his gaze for a long moment and then lifted her chin. "You shouldn't call yourself Sokka. What if someone overheard you, you absolute moron?"
He was a little taken aback by her abrupt turn around, but just nodded. "I'll try not to do it again."
"See that you don't," she snapped. "Typical of Mai to saddle me with the dimmest idiot available..."
He didn't reply. At least if she was insulting him she was getting back to normal.
Perhaps normal wasn't the word for it. Azula was ill. He'd always known that, had seen it first hand, but never this close up. It wasn't anger, or exasperation he felt. It felt like pity.
As abrasive as he found her, something in him stirred, a strange protective feeling that bewildered him, but which he'd felt before, in his office as she'd huddled in a corner, panicked and shaking.
It was the same protective instinct that had set his teeth on edge when he'd overheard the sailors making lewd comments about her. He didn't like her—could barely stand her, in fact—but he knew, as he followed Azula down the alley toward their destination, that he'd give anything to take that terror out of her eyes, even for a moment.
It was a strange feeling, and one he didn't want to examine.
It didn't take them long to find the inn on the edge of town where Mai had told them their first Smoke Demons contact would be meeting them in less than a day's time. At least the delay in reaching the Fire Nation meant that they would not have to linger in the harbor town for too long, waiting for their contact to arrive.
There was still the chance that Jeiwang had alerted the authorities, and that they'd come searching the inn eventually. They'd just have to make sure they were off doing whatever terrible thing the Smoke Demons would demand of them before that happened.
The inn itself was large, more of a hotel by the size of it. It was crowded and clean, with good food served hot in the massive common room, and a boisterous atmosphere that inspired whispered conversations in the corners. No one paid them any attention, although the middle-aged innkeeper eyed Sokka with an appraising glint in her eye the moment he approached the front desk just off the entrance.
"We don't want any trouble in here," she said shortly, the corners of her lined mouth pulling down.
"Then don't make any trouble," he sneered back at her, fingering the dagger on his belt.
"You'll have to forgive my...husband," Azula said a voice that was steady and cold. "He never learned manners. There won't be any trouble, I assure you. We're on our honeymoon."
Sokka was too busy maintaining his scowl to glance at Azula, amusement running through him all of a sudden. He didn't think Azula realized what she had just done, but he knew that she was about to find out.
The innkeeper softened at that, a smile curling her lips. "Ahh, well, that's an ostrich-horse of a different color, isn't it? And what luck, the only room we have available is our honeymoon suite. It has a queen-sized bed and an extra large bathing tub. Champagne and rose petals on the bed are also included in the price."
Azula's smile froze as the woman reached for the only key left on the empty wall of numbered hooks behind her. She glanced at Sokka, as if for help, but he scowled straight ahead, trying not to laugh.
"Oh...well... We don't need the honeymoon suite, just a simple room. TWO ROOMS!" she said, in a panicked voice.
The woman turned back to face Azula, the key in her fingers, confusion drawing her brows down low. "Two rooms? I thought you were on your honeymoon?"
"Uhh..."
"I snore," Sokka grunted after a long, awkward moment, glancing at Azula beside him. Stunned though she was, she was quick to follow his lead.
"Like a thundering moose-lion," Azula said. "I'm not used to it yet."
The woman nodded, looking doubtful. "Well, I'm afraid we're all booked up. The honeymoon suite is the only room available at the moment."
"We'll take it," Sokka said shortly, handing her a tidy roll of Yuans. "And we don't want to be disturbed while we're here. No servants."
"We do a turn down service," the woman started, but Sokka took the key from her.
"No need. We won't be leaving the bed," he said and let a sly expression cross his face. The innkeeper bowed her head.
"Of course. We also offer room service for a reasonable fee, for those disinclined to eat in our common room. You have only to ring for one of our stewards," she said and gestured for the young man hovering just behind them. He started to take their packs but Sokka glared at him and the young man nervously gestured toward the stairs instead.
It didn't take long before they were ensconced in the honeymoon suite, the young man pocketing the gold coin Azula had thrust at him after he'd shown them the highlights of the clean and lushly appointed room.
The walls were a romantic red, trimmed in gold leaf, with a large, silk-covered bed that was draped in gauzy red hangings. The bed looked sinful, and far too inviting, like sleeping on a cloud.
Or maybe that was just his sore back talking. The little bunks on the ship had been cramped and lumpy and smelled strongly of body odor, and when the sea hadn't been rolling them around like marbles in a tin can, he'd been hard-pressed to get comfortable enough to sleep. The big beautiful bed looked like heaven after a week of that.
As soon as the door closed behind the steward, Azula wheeled on him, tossing her pack into an overstuffed chair embroidered with roses.
"You see where your stupid marriage charade has landed us?" she hissed at him.
"My charade? I didn't tell you to tell the innkeeper we were married. That was just for the sailors. I didn't know you were going to run with it."
Azula's mouth snapped closed as she saw the amusement dancing in his gaze.
"I... I didn't think..." she stuttered and then scowled. "We had two rooms on the ship and no one said anything!"
"Because they were afraid of me. Listen, if it bothers you, we can get a divorce once the honeymoon is over," he said with a laugh, which she didn't share.
"You think this is funny, do you?"
"Hilarious, actually," he said. "Besides, it's the perfect cover. There's no way you'd be traveling with someone like Tazeo unless you had a reason. Marriage explains a lot."
"I would never marry someone like Tazeo," Azula said in a haunted voice that tread somewhere close to her episode in the alley less than an hour ago. She still hadn't lost the shadowed look in her eyes.
Sokka immediately wished he hadn't said anything, but instead, he just shrugged. "Fine, after we leave the inn consider us divorced. It's a good thing too, pretty sure Suki would kill me if I fake married another woman."
But that just made pain stab through his guts. He realized with a start that now that he was in the Fire Nation, he would have to find a way to write her a letter, to explain his absence. It wouldn't be long before she noticed that he hadn't written to her as usual.
Pushing that thought aside, he focused on Azula, who was crossing her arms over her chest. "Yes, well, I believe she has other worries than you."
"She and Zuko aren't-" he said through his teeth, but she waved him off.
"I meant guarding my dear brother from assassins and the like, but my, aren't you quick to jump to conclusions? Worried, are we?" she drawled with a flash of her eyes, and some of the pity he'd been feeling leaked away.
"You know, I don't think this is going to be a happy marriage," he said flatly.
"Oh, I don't know, darling," Azula said. "I think married life is starting to agree with me. Why don't you be a dear and fetch me some dinner while I take a nice, hot bath?"
"I'm your fake husband, not your slave."
"Same thing," she said airily.
"Spirits help the man who really does marry you," he said with a derisive snort. "That poor bastard won't know what hit him."
"Probably something heavy. And on fire," she said and he actually laughed at that, taken off guard by the flash of humor he had so rarely glimpsed in her.
"I forsee a lot of nights on the couch for that poor bastard," he chuckled.
"Better the couch than the floor."
"The floor?" he said stupidly.
"Just where did you think you were sleeping tonight?" Azula snapped, and then sailed into the bathing room, slamming the door behind her before he could reply.
He glanced at the big bed, realization dawning on him. His laugh petered out as he dropped his pack at his feet with a dull thud on the hard and unforgiving floor.
"Fuck."
