Title: Blood, Silk, and Steel
Rating: T, although the rating may go up.
Warnings: AU, dark!Sokka, character death, bad language, references to sex (nothing explicit) extreme violence, and general conniving and cruelty on behalf of the people you would expect it from.
Disclaimer: I own neither the characters nor the setting of Avatar: The Last Airbender. This is merely a work of fanfiction.
Author's Notes: Eh.
Chapter 35
It was ridiculous, Sokka thought, to send the Royal Barge to Ember Island. The massive royal boat would look out of place in the resort island's small and modest port. But, of course, the Fire Lord couldn't send Arnook's daughter to Ember Island on a wooden ferry. This was supposed to be a show of might. The Fire Lord was an oak when he needed to be an oak and an oak when he needed to be a reed, and that was just as well, Sokka thought, though it annoyed him now.[1]
The savage knew the Fire Lord well enough to know that this wasn't a cultural mission. This wasn't about fostering ties with the Water Tribes. Reeds would care about such things, but not oaks. Iroh and Zuko would care. Azula, if she saw profit in it, would care. But Ozai, Sokka knew, wouldn't care and wouldn't see the profit in it. Which meant, all things considered, that this trip wasn't about the Northern Water Tribe. It had to be about another person on the barge that the Fire Lord wanted away from the Palace. It wouldn't have taken a genius to deduce who that person was, and Sokka was a genius of sorts.
The Fire Lord had tired of him. The Fire Lord wanted to be rid of him. He and Azula had tried, once already, to tie a snare around his neck. This was another trap, or at least, a delay until they could lay another trap, which was just as bad.
Sokka leaned over the barge's railing and focused on the sight of the powerful steel ship cutting the waves. Not for the first time he rued calling Azula a monster. That singularly stupid moment of weakness might yet cost him everything.
He sighed.
There was an upside to all of this.
Azula loved Ember Island. She loved its beaches and its markets; she loved the Summer Palace and the old mansion her family had used before Ozai acceded to the throne. She even loved the small house her mother had inherited. She loved the Ember Island Players, their theater and their plays. She loved dragging Sokka to see their stupid performances, loved ordering fireflakes extra hot, and curling up in her mother's private box to watch plays she could recite by heart. A bad pun in Sokka's mouth was idiocy; escaping the lips of a player, it was brilliance.
Azula was always Azula. She was always a schemer and a liar and a perfectionist. But at Ember Island, Azula was something she was never anywhere else: content. In all the time he'd known Azula, he'd only seen her relax in this one place. Ember Island brought her joy because it was Ember Island, not because it would help her strengthen her claim on the throne or build her up or tear Zuko down.
Azula was always Azula. But sometimes, rarely, and always on Ember Island, Azula simply was.
And therein lay Sokka's hope.
It wasn't a strong hope. It wasn't a bright hope. It didn't make up for the fact that he was de facto in exile. It didn't make up for the fact that he had been stupid enough to occasion a rift with Azula. It didn't make up for the fact that he would have gladly ripped her throat out, if he had thought he could get away with it.
But it was something. And for the moment, it would have to be enough.
Sokka was still lost in thought when Zuko edged up against him and swung an arm over his shoulders.
"What are you brooding about?" Zuko asked.
"I'm not brooding."
The Prince laughed. "Come on Sokka, you're talking to me. I spent years brooding. I know what it looks like, and you, my dear friend, are brooding."
"It's… nothing."
"I won't be offended if you tell me that you're upset we just got exiled to Ember Island. I'm upset about it myself."
"No, no, it's not that. After being in the North I'm really looking forward to some rest and relaxation under the sun."
"So, what is it?"
Sokka groaned. "Women."
Zuko lauged. "Can't live with them, can't live without them. But what's bothering you in particular?"
"Pretty much everything. Katara hates me and Azula's not far behind, and the truth of the matter is I deserve it." Then he sighed again, "Or, at least—I don't know if I deserve it, but I understand them."
This time it was the Prince's turn to sigh. "You know—I met a girl recently…"
Sokka turned with a raised brow and a mischievous grin. "A girl?"
"An Earth Kingdom peasant."
Sokka's face fell. "Oh."
"Yeah. And you know what the weird thing was?"
Sokka shrugged.
"She didn't hate me. Me, Zuko, First Born Son of Ursa and Fire Lord Ozai, Prince of the Fire Nation and Heir to the Throne. She didn't hate me."
"I don't hate you."
"No, but you love the Fire Nation. She hated it. But she didn't hate me."
"You know what you need?" Sokka asked.
"What?"
"The same thing I need, a good stiff drink. And maybe seven more after that. The minute we get off this boat, I'm dragging you to the nearest tavern. My treat."
Azula wanted to go to the beach. She wanted to lie down in the sand and feel the heat of the sun weighing down against her skin.
But there were appearances to maintain. This trip was supposed to be about sharing Fire Nation culture with the savages, and the savages—other than Sokka—had nothing to wear. So the first order of business now that everyone was set up in the Summer Palace was to drag Princess Yue, Katara, and Kya to the market and get them outfitted with beach-appropriate wear.
Azula stopped by the Princess Yue's room to extend the invitation and relished the fact that there were no guards at her back.
"Thank you," Yue said after Azula explained. "But you've been so generous already—I wouldn't want to abuse the Fire Lord's hospitality."
"Abuse the Fire Lord's hospitality?" Azula laughed. "Nonsense. The Lord of the Land of the Kindling Flame offers only that which he wishes to give. What is offered is freely offered. Besides, you really can't go to the beach in what you're wearing—you'll roast under the sun, you won't be able to go swimming, and what's worse, you'll get sand everywhere."
"Very well then," Yue admitted defeat.
A grin appeared on Azula's face. "Wonderful. I'm going to go extend an invitation to Lady Kya and Lady Katara, would you like to come along?" she asked.
"Katara…" the name seemed familiar to Yue. She recognized it as a Water Tribe name. "That's Sokka's sister, isn't it?"
"Yes. She's Prince Sokka's sister. And Lady Kya is his mother."
Something grabbed Yue's heart and shoved it in her throat, just for an instant. She wasn't exactly sure what it was—fear, anticipation, surprise, or something else entirely. But suddenly the expedition Azula was proposing took on an entirely different tone.
"Yes," Yue said, perhaps too quickly.
Azula couldn't blame Yue. She too was profoundly curious about the woman who had birthed a monster like Sokka and the little girl he hated so much.
Kya opened the door cautiously. Sokka didn't have apartments in the Summer Palace, so she and Katara had simply been given rooms near Sokka's. That was bad enough because it removed Sokka as a necessary intermediary between them and the Fire Nation, but to make matters worse, Sokka had disappeared almost as soon as they had arrived—some business he said he had to carry out with Prince Zuko—and she wasn't sure what to do about visitors in her son's absence. But she smiled widely as soon as she saw Azula was the one on the other side. "Good morning, my Princess," she said warmly.
"Good morning, Lady Kya," Azula answered.
"Oh, please my child, call me Kya, or mother if it isn't too bold for me to say—
"I'm afraid that is too bold," Azula said with fiery venom, but then she regained her composure a second later and smiled.
"Please forgive me," Kya begged. "I meant no offense. It is a custom of my people—when our children marry we see it not as losing a child, but as gaining another."
"What a charming way of thinking of it," Azula said with an airily condescending tone. "You savages are so quaint. But Lady Kya, I've come to invite you and your daughter on a shopping expedition—I imagine your son has not yet provided you with a proper wardrobe, and I know him well enough to know you don't have a bathing suit yet."
"How well you know my son, Princess—I'm glad. He's provided a few things, but nothing like a bathing suit—or at least, I don't think he's given us bathing suits, as I don't know what they are."
"They're special clothes for swimming and lounging about at the beach. I'm taking Princess Yue of the Northern Tribe to purchase some, and I thought you and Lady Katara might like to join us.
"We'd be honored, wouldn't we, Katara?"
Katara, who had been trying very hard to mind her own business turned to look and nodded. "Of course, mother," she said without bothering to hide the fact that the last thing she wanted to do was join Azula on a shopping trip.
"I think this will be quite the experience for you—Sokka tells me you don't have markets in the South."
Kya sighed wistfully. "Oh, we did, when I was a girl. But then… it's been many, many years since I've had the pleasure of visiting one."
"I wonder whose fault that could be," Katara muttered under her breath.
Neither of them was particularly in the mood to be recognized, so they ended up in a ratty little bar in a small street far away from the main thoroughfare. It was early for drinking, so the bar was quiet, just a surly bartender and an old drunk at the bar. The bartender couldn't even be bothered to lift his face when the pair slid into a booth in the back.
Zuko clapped his hand. "Another bottle of yer fines' soju," he slurred.
"You've had enough to drink," the bartender called out from the other end of the room.
"I'm Prince Zuko," Zuko exclaimed. "You'll do as I say."
"You're a drunk fool," the bartender answered.
"You watch yer tongue, or'll cut it out," Sokka threatened, but not very seriously.
"Nah," Zuko shook his head. "I mebbe a drunk fool, but I'm a drunk fool with gold to burn." He pulled out his purse and let it fall on the table with a loud clink.
"Puthat away," Sokka said, pushing the bag of gold back towards Zuko. "I said I'd pay." He got up marched—or rather, wobbled—right up to the bar and laid down two gold coins, which were enough to pay for all the booze in the joint. "Innda last few weeks I nearly died, I got mauled, and my girlfriend's pissed as fuck with me. I deserve a bloody bottle of soju."
The bartender couldn't argue with the logic of the two shiny coins on the grimy. He nodded and pulled out another bottle.
Sokka grabbed it out of his hand and turned around to face Zuko. He held the bottle up in triumph. "Nor'n Water Tribe, Gaoling, soju, we're on a roll my bro."
"On a roll," Zuko nodded. But when Sokka poured him another glass of the clear burning liquid, the Prince frowned.
"Wasswrong?" Sokka asked.
"Been thinkin'."
"Dangerous thing, thinking is."
Zuko laughed. "Oh yeah." He downed the shot Sokka had served him and poured himself another. "Hey, uh, Sokka?"
"Das my name."
"Have you ever… you know… made love t'a girl?"
Sokka snorted. "Make love t'a girl? 'Course not."
"So, y'av never been wit a girl?"
"What girl you think I woulda been wit? Your sister, or mine?"
"Oh. Yeah. Right."
"Why? There a girl you've been lookin' at?" Sokka asked, bringing the glass to his lips.
"No. Not—Fuck, I'm just gonna say it—I did it with a girl when I was in Gaoling. Or not in Gaoling, but—shit. It doesn't matter where." Zuko downed the shot and slammed it down on the table. He leaned in, and in a panic whispered, "Sokka, I made love to an Earth Kingdom peasant."
Whatever the savage had been expecting the Prince to say, it wasn't that. The revelation took him by surprise and he started to choke on the soju in his mouth.
Zuko leaned over to hit him on the back.
Sokka looked up, eyes wide in shock and cursing himself that he'd actually been stupid enough to get drunk. "Agni!" Sokka swore. "What the? What in Koh's name were you thinking?" Then a thought pierced the fog of intoxication and drove terror into Sokka's heart: "Are you in love with her?"
Zuko was stupid enough to renounce his claim on the throne for an Earth Kingdom nobody, but if that happened, then Azula would doubtlessly become Fire Lord and Sokka would be up the creek without a paddle. Everything would have been for nothing.
Zuko buried his face in his hands and Sokka's stomach sank even lower. But then Zuko looked up and the despair in his eyes wasn't that of a lover lost. "No," he whispered. "No," he said again, then choked. "I kidnapped her, and fucked her, and I left her in the middle of nowhere. I didn't even have the decency to take her to shore myself. I didn't love her. I just fucked her and left her."
Nothing coming out of Zuko's mouth was making any sense to Sokka. But Zuko was hyperventilating now and through the multilayered fog of intoxication, panic, and confusion Sokka saw that he needed to get Zuko out of sight.
He got up and like quicksilver he was at Zuko's side, pulling the drunken prince up. "Can't stay here," he told him. "This is a private conversation. We need to have it in private."
Zuko blinked and nodded.
"Actually," Sokka said, "I don't think we should go back to the Summer Palace."
Azula could be there, and if not Azula, then guards or servants whose loose lips would soon enough send whispers to Azula's ears.
That was how they ended up in an old abandoned hut—it was a respectable house, but by the Fire Lord's standards it would have been a hut—that had once belonged to Zuko's mother and which now belonged to Zuko and Azula. The doors were held closed with a heavy iron chain, but the rain and salt air of the island had eaten through the lock and Sokka was able to break it open with little trouble. The grass grew up, wild and untamed, and ferns and flowers had taken up residence at their leisure in such a way that would have horrified the Fire Lord's gardeners.
The indoors were even worse. Dust and moths had made their home in the tired living room, and Sokka shuddered to think what other vermin might nest there. When he pulled the white sheets off a divan a billowing cloud went up and caught the sunlight. The red of the cushions had faded with age, and though he was no expert in trends of Fire Nation fashion, Sokka guessed the furniture had not been in vogue for at least a century. But at least the white cloth had kept it clean, and when he led Zuko to sit on the divan, it mercifully did not fall out from under the prince.
Sokka knelt in front of Zuko and tried not to fall down. He swore that he'd never drink again.
"Calm down Zuko."
"Calm down?" Zuko roared and bolted up, pushing Sokka to the floor. "HOW?" he roared and the air crackled. "How can I POSSIBLY CALM DOWN?" There was a blazing light in Zuko's eyes that Sokka had dreamt of seeing in Zuko's eyes. It was a fire that he hadn't even seen in Azula. For the first time since he'd first laid eyes on him, Sokka was afraid of Prince Zuko.
The Prince kicked at the divan and a stream of hot fire flowed from him.
"This isn't about some Earth Kingdom sl—
"Don't. Don't you dare."
The divan was on fire and the blaze was growing.
Sokka scuttled back. "Zuko! The fire!"
That seemed to catch Zuko's attention. His eyes widened and then he put the fire out and let himself collapse on the floor.
"Zuko. Look at me. I'm your best friend. You can tell me anything. What's wrong?"
Zuko was silent for a few moments. "Do you know, Sokka," he asked finally, voice soft, "that the people of Ba Sing Se starved under the Second Siege?"
Sokka swallowed. "Yes."
"Who told you? Was it Azula?"
Sokka closed his eyes, massaged the bridge of his nose, and shook his head. "No. No one told me. But the Fire Nation burned all the farm land between the outer wall and the city proper. What else could have happened?"
Impossibly, Zuko crumpled even further. "So you knew. You knew the kinds of monsters we are."
Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the salt air. Maybe it was the adrenalin coursing through his veins. He laughed.
"How can you laugh?"
"Zuko, you have no idea who you're talking to, do you?"
"You—
"Zuko. Fire Nation soldiers killed my father. They burned him alive. I saw the fire, heard the screams—smelt the soot and burning flesh. I don't need to tell you what that sounds like, flesh sizzling, drowned out by agony, what it smells like—human skin cooking. I couldn't get that smell out of my clothes—out of my hair—for months, and I'm not sure I'll ever get the screams out of my nightmares."
The Prince couldn't bear to lift his eyes.
"What could the Fire Nation do that is worse than that?" Sokka asked. "Your father leaves children orphans. Why should it matter whether it happens on the battlefield, on the village streets, or in Ba Sing Se?"
"Maybe it doesn't matter. It's all wrong."
"How can it be wrong, if it's what it takes for the Fire Nation to win the war?"
"What does the war matter? The Fire Nation began the war, and for what? To wage it, relentlessly for a hundred years? To murder and pillage and make orphans?"
"Listen, and listen well, Prince Zuko. You are talking to one of those orphans. And yet, I love the Fire Nation more than life itself. I've fought for it and bled for it." He pulled his boot off and thrust his foot in the Prince's face. "Look," he pointed at the wood and wire prosthetic he'd made himself, "Look. This happened when I was in the North." He pulled at the wires and pulled the prosthetic off, revealing the angry red flesh of the stump—"Every step hurts. Every step burns. And I take my pride and joy in that. I am proud and thankful that my suffering has helped the Fire Nation—
"But, why, why?"
"You know the answer to that—you must know it. Every child of the Fire Nation knows of the Fire Nation's sacred duty, its heavy burden. The Fire Nation is advancing history, Zuko. The Fire Nation is blessed by Agni—empowered and imbued with sacred knowledge. The Fire Lord's power is a divine blessing. The Fire Nation—listen to it—The Fire Nation. What does Fire do? What it must! It spreads—
"And kills." Zuko reached for his face, deliberately or subconsciously he touched the rough patch of scar. "It kills and burns and hurts—
"And warms and illuminates. You're sister is right. The world lives in cold and darkness—
"Because we push them into cold and darkness."
"Zuko."
The Prince looked miserable. "What?"
"Let me tell you about the South Pole. It's dark. It's cold. It's dark for half the year. It's miserable. No one pushed us there. We were happy—not because we should have been happy—we were hungry and cold and half our lives were spent in darkness and the other half in blinding light. It sounds like hell, doesn't it? But we didn't know that. Because our pathetic little backwater, where the sun shines at midnight and the moon glows at noon was all we had ever known and all we could imagine.
"And we would have fought, tooth and nail, to keep our paradise. We lived like beasts in darkness, and we would have killed and died to stay there, because we couldn't imagine anything else. We couldn't imagine a place where it was dark when we slept and light when we woke, where we could strip off our shoes and run barefoot through grass. We couldn't imagine the perfume of fire lilies or the sweet taste of the mango, or the warmth of sunlight against bare skin. We couldn't imagine going to bed without fear of freezing before morning, or of going on a stroll without fear of being caught in a storm, or any other of the comforts you, as a blessed son of the Fire Nation have always assumed as your birthright, not as a prince, but as a man." Sokka reached out for the Prince's hand, and took it firmly. "I lived my life in darkness. It wasn't until I saw your father's black ships for the first time that my eyes were opened."
"Was it a good bargain, then?" Zuko laughed. "Your father's life, for light?"
Sokka didn't answer. He looked away. And immediately Zuko regretted his words. "Look, Sokka—I'm sorry, I'm drunk, I didn't mean to—
"You know, I don't think Azula has ever said something so bitter in her life," Sokka said finally, not waiting for the Prince to finish his apology. "I love her. But I know her. And I love her, with all her faults and virtues. And I know how happy she can be to twist the knife and pour salt into the wound—but never has she wounded me as you just did."
Sokka got up to leave. "Sokka, please, old friend," Zuko called out after him. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. You know I didn't mean to—
Sokka snorted. "It wasn't a bargain. I had no choice in the matter. I had no choice when your father sent his men to my miserable hovel. I had no choice when my father bound and gagged me and threw me in a chest. I had no choice when I heard my father's screams—I couldn't avert my eyes or block out the sound or forget it. I had no choice when the men of my village left." Sokka turned around like a feral beast, eyes dangerous now. "But you know when I did have a choice? Prince Zuko, Son of Fire Lord Ozai?
"When you, banished and dishonored came to my blasted corner of the world, to my spirit forsaken hovel. And you came, prancing and playing at being a Prince, when you were nothing more than a despised blemish on your father's honor, and demanded that we hand over the Avatar.
"I had a choice then. And I could have charged at you, cast my lot with the Avatar. What would have come of it? I have no idea. Perhaps you and your honored uncle would have subdued us all—and Aang,"—Zuko shuddered at the name—"would have ended up just the same. Maybe you would have had the stomach to kill us all—wipe out the last vestiges of the Southern Water Tribe and finish a job long in the making.
"Or maybe not. Maybe it would have been enough—my help. I was enough to subdue the Northern Tribe, after all. Maybe, with my help, Katara and Aang would have traveled the world and the war—that war you so loathe—would be over, the Fire Nation's glorious plans shattered by the wrath of a god-child.
"And what do you think the world would do to you, Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation? If they hated you as you seem to wish for them to do—what would they do to your Lord Father, your Lady Sister? Your Honored Uncle who waged war against Ba Sing Se and swept through the Earth Kingdom with the fury and mercy of a wild fire?"
There was a different face on Sokka now. The face of a man possessed—the face of the savage. There was something dark and furious about him now—it put Zuko in mind of a story Lu Ten had told him to scare him when they had both been boys—a story about Agni's brother, Koh, who changed like quicksilver and was just as deadly.
"I can tell you what they would do to your uncle—crush his hands and pour boiling oil into his lungs, and see how the Dragon liked his fuel. And your father they would flay alive and parade his skin around the cities and the villages of the Earth Kingdom. And you Prince Zuko, last son of Sozin, they'd cut you from here to here," Sokka dragged an index finger down the whole length of Zuko's torso, "and feed you your own manhood to end the line of Sozin.
"And Azula? My beautiful Princess, the light of my eyes, the air I breathe, my brilliant, beautiful lady, strong like steel forged in fire, gorgeous like the rarest rubies, soft like the finest silk, brilliant like the brightest diamond?" Sokka's breath and voice trembled now, "If she were lucky, they would kill her. And that would be that. The most beautiful thing to be created in the history of the world, since Agni spilt his blood to make Man, would be gone.
"But worse, can you imagine? The taming of the Daughter of the Dawn? The breaking of her body, and spirit and mind—they'd do to her what you have done to Aang. And then, when there was nothing left of the brilliant woman that I love, but only the empty husk, as lovely and cold and empty as a golden cage, the Earth King would make her his—nothing more than a broken china doll to adorn his arm and secure his claim to the Fire Nation.
"Do you think there are only monsters in the Fire Nation?
"No.
"Monsters are older than men and hide amongst men, and they do not discriminate between the souls of air, water, earth, or fire.
"Do you think, for an instant that the unwashed masses of the Earth Kingdom wouldn't do to your people what Sozin did to the Air Nomads? But what Sozin did for the future, for history and progress, they would do for nothing more than petty vengeance. Because they're animals—animals that look like men, but aren't, or aren't yet, and could only begin to become so with the careful guidance of the Fire Nation.
"If you lose faith now, Prince, they will smell it, like the wolf-fox can smell fear or the shark-ray can smell blood, and they will not stop, because they cannot stop, and they will tear you apart limb from limb, and the light of Agni, that special, brilliant thing, will be stomped out and lost forever, and wouldn't that be so much worse, such a bigger loss than the petty widows and orphans of this war?"
"Wouldn't the people of the Earth Kingdom have the right to revenge themselves after what we've done?"
"No one has the right to put out the light—to block out the sun."
"So, Sokka, why aren't you among… the people clamoring for the blood of me and my people?"
Sokka's lips parted, but Zuko cut him off: "And don't just say it's because you love Azula, because you didn't know her when you handed me the Avatar."
Sokka closed his mouth and bit his lips. Finally, he raised his eyes, blue, clear like crystal and solid like ice. "Because, Prince Zuko, I didn't want my father's death to be in vain.
"Would it have been better if the War had never started?" Sokka raised his shoulders. "How can I possibly know?
"You know, I met the Moon Spirit, just recently, while I was on the precipice of death. And she told me that she could see both what it and what could be. I have no such gift—or curse—as it may be. But I can imagine a different world, where there was no war. Where would we be? Perhaps, you and I would still be here, on Ember Island, and we would be talking lightly of silly things, of pretty girls and lazy days. And my father might still be alive, to place a hand on my shoulder and tell me how proud he is of me. And my mother would stand besides him and smile as she hasn't smiled in the better part of a decade. And Katara would wrap her arms around me and mean it." He shrugged and laughed, and his voice sounded an inch away from tears, "And maybe, if I were lucky, I'd still be marrying your sister—who knows? Maybe the Southern Water Tribe would be proud and tall and glorious, a pearl to equal or best the Northern Tribe and I would be a Prince in name and fact, marrying the most beautiful woman in the Four Nations to cement the ties of friendship between our people—
"But you know what, Zuko? All of that—none of that is real. Things are as they are.
"It could have been another way—it could have been a thousand other ways.
"But it wasn't.
"This," he waived around him, "This is what we have to work with. And here's the thing. The War was started. Not by you or I. And it has gone on for a hundred years. And so we must accept it. We must make due with the world that we have, and make it better as best we can." Finally there was kindess in Sokka's eyes. "And we're not going to do that by folding over and dying. We do that by fighting. It's a struggle." He shrugged. "It's my struggle. And yours. And maybe it would be kinder, easier if we didn't have to fight. But we do. And that's that. And that's all we can do, really."
And that was all Zuko needed to hear. He threw himself against his friend and held the savage close and tight, tears in his eyes.
"Thank you, thank you, oh Sokka, I don't know what I would do without you."
"Amble hopelessly through life, I know," Sokka answered with a laugh that was choked by tears and emotion. Sokka hugged the Prince back, as tightly as he could to let the Prince know—or rather believe, that he was loved and supported, to give Zuko the love and support and moral affirmation he needed to keep from doing something stupid and ruining everything Sokka had worked so hard for.
Then he held him closer still, "But Zuko, you have to promise me something."
"What?"
"You can never, ever tell anyone anything you said, or I said. This conversation needs to be a complete secret, between you and me. You can't tell Azula or your father, or even your uncle. It has to stay between us and die with us, because if your father finds out that you—for so much as a millionth of a second questioned the war—
"Well.
"You know what he did the last time you questioned the war. And if you do it again, like this—if your father knows your concern wasn't for loyal Fire Nation soldiers, but for the orphans and widows of the Earth Kingdom, if he knows that knowing a single Earth Kingdom girl made you question everything, he will never make you Fire Lord. And if your sister finds out, she'll run to him as fast as her feet can carry her.
"I love her, you know, more than anything. With all my mind, body, and soul, and anything else there might be to me. But I love you too, like a brother, like the lord you will one day be, and you should know, there's nothing Azula wants more than to be Fire Lord, and if for a second she thinks she can take that from you without hurting you, she will do it."
Zuko nodded.
"Thank you. I'm so glad to have a friend like you."
"That's what I'm here for. Think nothing of it."
It was nearly dusk by the time Zuko and Sokka returned to the Summer Palace. They were almost completely sobered up, and at least Zuko's eyes weren't red any more, his voice was steady once again, and he looked like the perfect image of the Crown Prince of the Land of the Kindling Flame.
They were told by the palace staff that Azula and the rest of the party had returned earlier in the day, but that they had gone to the beach, so Sokka and Zuko took their dinner alone in the courtyard.
"You could have waited for us," Azula's voice called out as they were finishing desert.
"Sorry, sis," Zuko answered, turning around to great his sister with a smile. "We didn't know when you'd be back."
Azula laughed, "I'm just kidding of course. We had dinner at the beach. Lao-Gong has an amazing new desert. We'll have to go all together again tomorrow."
"Sounds great. Why don't you girls join us, we're about to have tea. Mint with licorice and cinnamon."
Azula chuckled. "My favorite. It sounds divine—I'll go get the others."
In a few minutes they were all sitting in the courtyard by the fountain. Since they were on vacation, Azula had decided to forgo the second table that was needed to accommodate everyone and instructed the servants to bring out the floating lanterns instead.
She leaned back along the fountain's edge, still wearing the bright red swim clothes and golden jewels from the day. Her milky skin looked like alabaster under the pale moonlight. She sank her hand into the water and raised her teacup with the other. A small moan of contentment escaped her lips.
"I'd forgotten how wonderful this place is."
Yue nodded. If Azula's skin was bright like alabaster, Yue's hair seemed to glow like moonlight itself. The candlelight from the fountain caught in her eyes like starlight. "This is a beautiful land. I could not in my wildest dreams have imagined such beauty. Even this fountain is gorgeous."
Sokka smiled into his tea. "Yes. I don't know if there's anything more beautiful in the world than this."
And as he said that, his eyes never left Yue.
Zuko saw how his friend's eyes rested on the Northern Princess, and seemed to follow the rise and swell of her breasts in keeping with the timing of her breathing.
For a second, Zuko paused to look at her, really look at her. Azula had done a wonder with her the other day in court, and now, again, the Northern Princess was a sight to behold dressed in white silks that brought out the color and curves of her flesh and left just enough to the imagination.
Zuko's eyes went from Princess Yue to Sokka's face, then to the curve of Azula's lips as she leaned against her fiancé and called him her pet as she often did.
Prince Zuko did not like what he was seeing. He did not like it in the least.
He faked a yawn—he needed to get away, to think about what was happening, and how to stop it, how to save his sister and his best friends from themselves.
"I think I'm going to head off to bed," he said, sounding wearier than he had intended.
"Sleep well dear brother," his sister said, more softly than she usually did. She leaned in to kiss him, which caught him by surprise.
"You're a little warm," she said, pressing her hand to his forehead."
"I was out in the sun all day," he explained, though it was mostly a lie. Better to say that he had been in the sun than to admit to having gotten so tremendously drunk that he had devolved into a bawling child.
He got up and suddenly felt more tired than he had.
He turned to leave, thinking now, in earnest of disappearing into the soft comfort of his bed. He took three steps—suddenly it seemed hard to walk—a fourth, a fifth, and suddenly he hit the ground. It didn't hurt however, because he was already out by the time he hit the hard stone floor.
Azula and Sokka were by his side almost before he hit the ground, and Yue joined them just a second later.
The Prince's skin, suddenly, was boiling.
Author's Notes: This chapter went painfully slowly. The first half was written over the course of several weeks, where I'd often write three sentences, delete two, write two more, delete three, write one, and give up. The second half was written all at once.
I always thought the magical malady that attacked Zuzu in "The Earth King" was kind of pointless. It came from nowhere, and that's more or less where it went too. But I figure, if it's in the canon, why not have it here too? That way I can tie Zuko in with this whole mess with the spirits, which is sort of going on very subtly behind the scenes.
Not sure how I feel about the slurring evaporating. This is certainly not a great chapter. It's very dialogue heavy—worse, it's monologue heavy. But, eh, I'm friggin' sick of it. And I want reviews.
[1] See Aesop's fable on the subject of the Oak and the Reed.