The halls of the palace were dark, despite the fire that lit them up. It was the time of the night, perhaps, that made them seem so dim, and empty. They were the same as they had been when he was young, but now that he was taller, they were less imposing, but still just as lonely.
"Woah!" Sokka had said looking about. It had been one of the rare moments when the boys had been so bold as to sneak out of Zuko's room. They were asleep, dreaming, but the young prince was still unsure if anyone could see them or not, and didn't want them to get in trouble. "This place is huge! This is the biggest place I've ever seen!"
"It's even bigger than you think, but I don't think we should wander too far."
"Why not?"
"I don't want to get in trouble."
"But...you live here? Why would you be in trouble for wandering around your own home?"
"Because I just would, okay?"
"Okay, sheesh," he had shrugged. "Well, no big deal. When you come to visit me, we can go wherever we want. I dont' have big homes, but there's still a lot to see. I'll take you canoe riding."
"And we can fish?"
"Right!" he had smiled. Zuko smiled back and Sokka ran to his side, throwing an arm around him. "I can't wait! It'll be so much fun. Just you and me!"
"Yeah, you and me," he had smiled.
In the present he shook his head of the memory, ignoring the terrible ache in his heart. His eyes drew up from the red carpet and to the lush red curtain that hung down the entrance to the throne room. The gold insignia of the fire nation loomed over him, and he stared at it a moment, gathering his courage before even approaching it. Still, he knew better than to keep his father waiting. He sighed, emptying his lungs, before taking in a deep breath, training his expression into a stoic look. He parted the curtain then, and entered the dark room.
Columns ran along the dark room, leading all the way to the back, where the Fire Lord, his father, sat before him. Before the poliquin-like throne was a wall of fire, bordered by fire behind it that roared higher than the first. A great golden dragon mural curled about on the wall and glowered down at him with wild eyes and fierce teeth. The image gave him a quiet fright, though he was unsure why. He remembered the throne room, knew it well enough from visiting his grandfather before his passing.
His father sat before him, surrounded in fire, the flames causing the shadows on his face to dance about, masking his expressions and making him seem like a terrifying force of power, a spirit of fire.
He approached and bowed immediately, kowtowing with his head to the floor to honor the position his father held. He prayed his father could not see the slight tremble to his hands as he sat there, his eyes staring at the polished floor before him.
"Your faithful son gives his respects to the honorable Fire Lord," he announced, as was customary. Funny how easily he could slip back into the formalities after all the years.
"You have been away for a long time," his father finally spoke. His first words to him in years. "I see the weight of your travels has changed you."
He could hear his father shift, and kept his gaze trained on the floor.
"You have redeemed yourself, my son."
Relief washed over his, the words he'd longed to hear for so long, since the very first day of his banishment. He could hear his father approaching him, and lifted his head, as was customary when approached by the Fire Lord. The flames parted as he descended, as if bowing out of the way. The man's gaze remained trained on Zuko.
"Welcome home."
"Thank you, father," said Zuko, kowtowing again.
"Rise, Prince Zuko," said the man.
He obeyed, sitting up, but kept his head bowed. His father began to pace, and Zuko could feel him circle around him. He remained still, trying to control the curious tremble to his arms. Maybe it was the strain, he'd not kowtowed and held these positions in years.
"I am proud of you, Prince Zuko," spoke his father. His breath quickened, his father was proud of him? He remained quiet as he continued. "I am proud because you and your sister conquered Ba Sing Se. I am proud because, when your loyalty was tested by your treacherous uncle, you did the right thing and captured the traitor."
The right thing burned bitterly at his heart. Perhaps when he was more in his father's favor he could argue on behalf of his uncle, he thought, but pummeled the thought down immediately. Now was not the time to be thinking such things. His father was praising him, this was his moment.
"And, I am proudest of all of your most legendary accomplishment."
His what?
"You slayed the Avatar."
His eyes widened in panic. Azula had lied.
"What did you hear?" he asked, daring to speak without permission. His father allow it.
"Azula told me everything. She said she was amazed and impressed with your power and ferocity at the moment of truth."
Zuko's breathing had become quick and shallow without him realizing it, his mind turning over why on earth she'd lied. She always lies, but that wasn't the surprising part. Killing the Avatar was a great feat that would earn power and respect from anyone in the Fire Nation, most of all their father, so why? He snapped out of it in the next moment, realizing his father had paid him high praise and a compliment.
"Thank you, father," he responded, his voice trained and steady.
"As is obvious by now, you have served your sentence, and your actions have absolved you of all crimes against your Fire Lord and your Nation. I hereby restore your title of Crown Prince."
"Thank you, father," he said, and once more bowed his head to the ground.
"Rise, Prince Zuko."
"Yes, father," every action he did without question, but harboring silent, curious dread. It must just be nerves, and excitement, he reasoned. His father finished circling him and had come to the front.
"The hour is late, and your journey was long. You may retire for the night."
"Thank you, father," he said, and bowed once more, before getting to his feet. The Fire Lord was first to turn his back on his son, as was customary, and Zuko took a few steps back, still bowed, until finally he turned and left. He'd nearly made it to the door, heart hammering in his throat, and when he passed through the heavy curtain, he felt his stomach turn. He walked away, but after a few paces, broke out into a full blown run.
He had wound down several halls, before he stopped, pressing himself against the wall, holding his chest where his heart raced and made his breathing shallow. No one was there to see him, and his ears were trained for even the lightest footsteps of curious servants.
Azula had lied, had given him the glory of having slain the Avatar. He remembered the vial, the water of the Northern Spirit Oasis that Katara held. Could it be enough, he wondered, could it possibly be enough to bring back anyone from the brink of death? He stormed over to her room.
He opened the door, not even bothering to knock. She remained as confident and cold as he always knew her to be, not even stirring when the light poured into her dark sleeping chambers.
"Why'd you do it," he demanded, quietly.
"You're going to have to be a little more specific," she said, her tone mock carefree, an underlying hint of knowing to it that she held over his head.
"Why did you tell father that I was the one who killed the Avatar?"
"Can't this wait until morning?"
"It. Can't."
With a sigh she sat up in bed, and turned her gaze, not to him, but her nails.
"Fine. You seemed so worried about how father would treat you because you hadn't captured the Avatar. I figured if I gave you the credit, you'd have nothing to worry about."
"But why?" he insisted.
"Call it a generous gesture."
Kind gestures from Azula did not exist; everything had its price. She stepped out of bed, and continued when he didn't seem convinced.
"I wanted to thank you for your help, and I was happy to share the glory."
"You're lying."
"If you say so," she sighed, walking past him.
"You have another motive for doing this. I just haven't figured out what it is."
"Please, Zuko," she sighed and stretched. "What ulterior motive could I have? What could I possibly gain by letting you get all the glory for defeating the Avatar?" she turned back, putting a finger to her chin in thought as she spoke, then drew closer to his side. "Unless...somehow...the avatar was actually alive. All that glory would suddenly turn to shame and foolishness." she left him to return to her bed. "But you said so yourself, that was impossible."
He narrowed his eyes at her, then turned and left without another word, not even bothering to close her door on the way out.
"Sleep well, Zuzu," she called.
He left her room and tore down the hall back to his room. Once there he slammed the door shut.
His sister was setting him up, she'd called his bluff and allowed him to look the fool. She was paranoid, he told himself, paranoid and foolish, but then, so was he. How could he not see that this was something she would do? Angry, feeling suddenly trapped and robbed of the satisfaction of having returned home, he turned and angrily kicked the low table next to the door. It splintered from the force, splitting near in half.
He breathed angrily and grabbed his head.
This wasn't how this was supposed to be. He was supposed to be happy.
He looked around the dark room, his bed room. The place was stained with memories when cast in the moonlight like this. He angrily lashed out at the lamp at the side of his bed, a fire roaring to life before calming into an even flicker, banishing the memories along with the darkness.
He was happy, he demanded of himself. He was happy, and fine, and safe. He'd never see Sokka again. The Avatar was wounded so terribly that not even magic water could bring him back, and he was the beloved prince of his home once more. Everything was going to be fine.
Team Avatar was back in action! Things had felt more normal than they had in weeks since they'd gone back to flying around on Appa. It was a refreshing breath of air, especially for Sokka. Seeing Aang awake, and happy, hearing his sister laugh, listening to Toph throw her barbs and get pumped about the Invasion, had been exactly what Sokka was missing.
Together, they'd infiltrated the Fire Nation home soil without any trouble, using the clouds, and some new cloudbending as cover. The Gaang were feeling pretty positive about how well the Invasion could go as well, seeing as how they'd run into little to no trouble upon landing. They'd wound up taking shelter in a cave but realized rather quickly that living on the outskirts of town could be rather suspicious if they were spotted. Besides that, they were very obviously not Fire Nation children from their clothing alone. So they did what any responsible group of children did when they knew that their identities needed to be hidden; steal.
They'd come across a small laundry service, with many different Fire Nation clothes hung out to dry. There was an older man on guard, but with a strange luck, they were asleep.
Aang had his reservations, and Sokka was worried that Katara might hesitate as well. After all, she'd objected so thoroughly to the armor that he wondered if it extended to-
"I call the silk robe!" she exclaimed, and ran out to nab it before the sleeping guard was any the wiser.
Well, that was easy. Better get out there while the picking was still good.
They playfully ran about, nabbing clothes off the line and ducking back into hiding to inspect their find. It was like a game, despite the dire need for disguises.
And when they'd done their dubious deed of nabbing new duds, they changed into them quickly. The others laughed and ohh-ed and awed at each other in their new Fire Nation ensambles. For Sokka, he'd taken himself a long, dark red, tunic that sinched at the waist with the help of a belt. He exchanged the armor boots for open toed sandals, perfect for how hot it was in this land. He also wore shorts that went to the knees and slightly over. Aang had gone for something a little more complicated, an entire suit that covered his tattoos on his hands. He'd also taken a headband to cover the blue arrow that dipped down his forehead. Katara had chosen a brighter red, a short top and a longer skirt. She'd let her hair out of the braid and allowed it to hang loosely. Toph had gone with a red jumpsuit that might be bedclothes, but when topped with a sleeveless over robe and wrapped in the middle, looked like normal day wear.
"Great!" exclaimed Toph, "Now we can actually go out and get some decent food, and not have to eat cave hoppers!"
"Speaking of which, I'm famished," announced Sokka.
"You're always famished," said Katara.
"That's beside the point. Let's test these new disguises out and go get some grub!"
They had a small fortune, money to help float them to buy food and supplies as they went, stolen straight front he fire nation ship that had been commandeered when going through the officers things. Sokka liked to think of it as a generous donation toward ending the war. The others had agreed.
So, when they'd got to town, they picked up a few more garments and accessories, things to make it seem like they really lived there. For Toph, this was a new headband with the colors of the Fire Nation, to keep her long hair in place. For Katara, this was a new red necklace to help ease the absence of her mother's old betrothal necklace that would give away her nationality. And for Sokka, this was a small top knot tie. He'd bought it without thinking too much of it, his eyes glancing over the miniature wooden flame piece without thought. He quickly undid his wolf tail, and an obvious signature of his people, and gathered his hair up and back. He tied it in the same bun fashion that the other men in this Nation seemed to wear it in.
He paused before he'd finished, his eyes catching himself swathed in red in the mirror. Yeah, this was still weird, he thought. The memory of long red robes came back to the forefront of his mind. The days had been so nice he'd almost all but forgotten his vision. He shook his head, accidentally dislodging a few hairs that he'd have to gather backup and quickly tied the small bun up with. He couldn't afford to think of that now, they needed to be subtle, and blend in.
They walked the streets with the residents being none the wiser. Aang led the way trying to teach them the slang of the nation to help them blend in. FInally, they reached a shop, and Sokka took the lead in going in.
"Oh, we're going to a meat shop?" asked Aang.
"Come on Aang, everyone here eats mean. Even the meat!" he smiled, pointing to a cowpotomus, which took a large bite of some cooked meats that had been left out for it. This gave the young Avatar the shivers, who stepped back and promised to catch up with them later after finding his own food. Sokka, too hungry to be patient, agreed immediately and ran in.
"Customer!" yelled a gruff older man.
Sokka froze, memories of the Earth Kingdom being drawn forth so immediately that he almost lost his appetite. Almost.
"Coming," called a voice, elderly and unfamiliar.
"We sittin' or what?" asked Toph, pushing past Sokka, who'd frozen in the doorway. He nodded after her and sat down as someone came over to quickly take their order.
"Ahhhhh," smiled Toph, taking in the smells of the restaurant. "This place smells great. Hope the food's as good, too."
"I'm sure it'll be fine," said Katara, but noticed her brother's lack of enthusiasm. "You alright?" she asked, looking over. He'd been idly rolling one of the chopsticks in thought until she'd spoke.
"Huh? Oh, yeah. Just hungry," he said, and looked out the window.
"Do you think they serve tea here?" asked Katara, looking about.
"I'm fine with water," shrugged Toph.
The girls struck up a conversation about something then, and Sokka quietly tuned them out as his thoughts began to take over.
His gaze remained outside the shop, watching people pass by, minding their own business. It was hard to believe they were in enemy territory when everything seemed so normal. He'd expect...well, he wasn't sure what he'd expected. Evil scowls from everyone? Soldiers at every turn? Evil laughter hanging in the air. Instead, he heard the sound of children playing ball in the street, a baby's cry somewhere in the distance, and two men laughing at a joke their friend had told. Very normal noises, all strange and familiar. For a moment he closed his eyes. Aside from the different smells, he found it easy to picture himself back at the tea shop. The grain of the wood beneath his elbow was different, he sat on a bench rather than in a chair, but still, if he tried hard enough, he could just picture someone ducking out of the kitchen and approaching him. The memory of barley sweet played on his tongue.
"Order up," said a server, shocking Sokka out of his thoughts.
He looked to the beef bowl before him, his stomach giving an eager growl at the meal it was about to enjoy. He wasted no time in waiting, and neither did his friends. The vinegar and ginger sweetened the salty dish, and he devoured every last bite, down to the rice that made up the bottom half that had soaked up the beef broth with it.
"There's the Sokka we know," laughed Katara.
He finished with a sigh, sitting back.
"Told you, I was just hungry," he smiled. He felt a swift kick from Toph, and he knew it meant she knew he was lying. He winced, but gave a small laugh and turned his attention back out.
"You know," started Katara, "this place...it's not what I picture it to be at all."
"It's so normal," nodded Toph.
"Yeah, and lucky for us the food's not half bad," said Sokka, reaching over to grab a toothpick from a small cup that offered clean ones.
"I thought that might be your number one priority," his sister laughed.
"My number one priority is...well," he looked about the restaurant, deciding it was unwise to speak of it further. "You know- but food's good, and I can't argue with that. Hmm, you think Aang found something?" he wondered.
"We shouldn't keep him waiting," nodded Katara. "Here, I'll go up and pay," she said, and held out her hand. Sokka had happened to be carrying the wallet, and handed the pouch over quickly. They rose to their feet and headed out of the shop to wait for their companion, keeping an eye out for Aang.
"So...you gonna tell her?" asked Toph.
"Drop it, please," he muttered.
"She notices, you know. When you go quiet."
"I don't need to tell her because I'll never talk to him again."
She huffed and shook her head.
"Talking to you is like talking to a brick wall, sometimes. You're too stubborn."
"Me? Out of the two of us, you're the one who won't let it go- ouch!"
She'd knocked her fist into his arm, and he winced, rubbing his sore muscle.
"Fine, go ahead and keep moping. Why listen to me? It's not like this whole thing isn't eating you up inside and making things weird between all of us."
Sokka made a disgruntled noise in his throat, but before he could respond Katara walked out.
"Everything alright?" she asked.
"Just peachy," sighed Toph, crossing her arms. Sokka frowned, but remained silent as he rubbed his arm.
"O...okay…" said Katara, reading the strange hostility in the air. "Let's look for Aang," she said and lead the way.
Zuko dreamed of vast grasslands. He dreamed of a scorching sun, and long stretches of dirt roads. He dreamed he rode an ostrich horse, whom he knew was slowly growing more and more thirsty and tired. The road stretched on beyond an old, war-torn field. The field had large disks Earth Bending soldiers used in war, with a hole in the middle, like their national currency. These large disks were twice Zuko's size, and now so old and weather-torn that they were cracked, and weakened by the constant sunlight.
His mount collapsed all at once, instantly still. He knew he'd have to stop, to wait out the sun and try again at night. There was no hope for his ride any longer.
He took refuge in the shade of these large disks, but the heat followed him. He leaned against the large coin, and as his head touched the back of it, he could hear something, like a distant crowd. The longer he remained, the louder the roar of voices grew, the more he noticed the sound of explosions, the slight tremor and shake to the earth, like explosions. He felt something slither behind him, but the heat grew so intense he could not move. The sun was glaring, the field before him seemed to dance from the heat waves that rose up, his throat was terribly dry.
"Echoes of a long, forgotten, past remain and even ripple out into today," said a voice, just behind him. He swallowed what little spit his dry mouth provided and turned back. He saw no one, but through the little window in the decrepit coin shape, he saw an oasis. Water spilled forth from the side of a mountain and into a large smooth basin, with lush berry bushes growing around it.
Quickly he whipped around and stood up, hurrying around the coin, only to see that there was nothing, just stretches of open field with dried and dead grass. He looked around himself, confused, and knelt down to look through the hole again. He saw the field. He went back around the other side, and looking through again, saw the oasis.
"They pull, pushing you endlessly toward destiny…"
"Hello?" called Zuko, standing and looking around him. He'd never heard this voice before, it sounded like it belonged to an elderly man. He knelt down and looked back through the oasis, trying to figure out how to get through. He heard something humming on the other side, like the humm of bug wings. He stuck his hand through, his skin greeted with a cooler climate and a refreshing mist from the wind carrying some of the water on the wind in a gentle spray. He tried to push himself further, as if attempting to force himself through. He knew he wouldn't fit, but even as he went, he'd swore that the hold was shrinking. He tried to get his head through, and it was almost on the other side, but his other shoulder stopped him from going any further, his arm still out and reaching for water he knew was too far off. He wanted to pull himself out, but found he was stuck. He could feel the weight of the disk collapsing around him, around his head. He tried to push out, frantically, but to no avail, he was caught in the middle. He screamed, pounded at the earthen disk, scrambling desperately to kick off as he felt himself constricted, slowly being crushed. Something gave a sickening crack.
Zuko shot up right in his bed, his breath quick and shaky as he looked about his room. It was day, the morning sunlight just starting to peek in through his darkened curtains.
Nightmares, that's all he was ever greeted with at night now. Sometimes he remembered them, sometimes he didn't. He remembered this one, and wished he hadn't. He threw the covers off, feeling slightly claustrophobic, and went to throw open the curtains on his long windows. The sunlight bleed in, and he allowed himself to hunch over on the sill, catching his breath the rest of the way.
He'd tried many things to get them to stop plaguing him. He'd tried eating less during dinner, fearing the rich food was upsetting his stomach and causing nightmares. He tried more water before bed, less water. He tried resting earlier, resting later, but the nightmares came and went all the same, waking him up each morning in terrible distress. He gripped his head as he fought to catch his breath.
His mind replayed the sound of the cracking noise. It was like a crack of lightning. No, it was the memory of it, the memory of watching the Avatar plummet out of the air and fall like dead weight to the ground. He remembered how the water around himself and the Dai Li had risen up, washing them out of the waterbender's way as she tore through them to get to the boy. She'd held him, she still had the water, their uncle had let them get away.
No one could survive that, he argued with himself.
She had the Spirit Water.
But no one could survive.
No. If anyone could survive, it was the Avatar.
He lifted his gaze, looking out of his room and to the small courtyard framed in by the palace. He was alive, he was alive, and everything he had here was threatened by his very existence. He gripped the sill, unaware of the scorch marks he was bruning into the veneer. He lifted his hands away, only then detecting the bun smell that lifted with them.
He felt himself falling apart. He never knew how to control himself when he was like this, but someone did, he thought, looking back up and out of his room.
The prison was dark, damp, and inhospitable. Hay, and a weather beaten mat served as the prisoner's only bedding. Other than a little wooden stool for perhaps visitors of guards, there was nothing else to be had. A window was above the man, the only source of light during the day, and no source of cover if it rained.
These were Zuko's first impressions of the cell upon entering. Walking further in, he allowed the door to remain open to add a bit of light to the cell. This way he could see his Uncle, his sad, ragged uncle, with wiry white hairs disheveled and strung over the bald patch on his head. You'd have never known him to be a former general if you looked at him, much less a member of the royal family. He looked like any of the peasants in Ba Sing Se, and Zuko ignored the way his heart twisted at the sight.
His uncle's gaze had raised to him, but with one quiet movement, had turned his back completely on his nephew, and remained still. This was not a fearful act by any means, it was tempered, patient, and decisive. In other words, an insult to Zuko's position.
"You brought this on yourself, you know," the Fire Prince started.
Iroh was like the stonework that walled him in; quiet, still, and offering no warmth.
"We could have returned together," Zuko continued, his voice quiet. "You could have been a hero."
But instead he'd stood against him, allowed for Katara- with her Spirit Water, to take away the body of the Avatar. And, when they were safely away, he'd turned his gaze from Zuko in deep shame.
"You had no right to judge me, Uncle. I did what I had to do in Ba Sing Se, and you're a fool for not joining me."
A cell was the man's reward for turning on his country. Where was the Avatar to save his Uncle from his fate?
"You're not gonna say anything?" he insisted. In the silence, he wondered just how things would have been different if he had run away with them, how his uncle would be free, not confined to a cell like a caged animal. But this was his home, he insisted to himself, but he wasn't happy, argued another voice, but he had everything he wanted, he pleaded desperately with himself. Overwhelmed by the struggle, he could only think to kick the stool. It clattered against the wall where he then struck it, splitting it in half with a fierce blow of power and fire bending.
"You're crazy! You're a crazy, old man!" he yelled, trying to spurr him into saying anything, "And if you weren't in jail, you'd be sleeping in a gutter!"
The aching silence continued, and he decided he could bear it no longer. He turned and walked out, slamming the door on him, casting him back into the darkness.
The shadows played against his glowering face as he stormed down the hall and finally into the fresh night air.
He'd neither gotten the peace of mind he thought he would, nor the satisfaction of having been right in his decision. This was going to be another sleepless night.
"Aang, I'm trying to be mature about this and not shoot your idea down immediately," started Sokka, "but it sounds...really terrible."
As it turned out, the clothes that Aang had decided to steal was a uniform of children who went to a nearby Fire Nation academy. While in town, they'd been separated, and the whole afternoon was spent in what felt like a new normal of panicking over where Aang had disappeared to. He'd arrived back at the cave late in the afternoon and told them everything about the school he'd attended. Now that he'd gotten away, however, he was telling the group that he planned to go back!
"Every minute I'm in that classroom I'm learning new things about the Fire Nation," smiled Aang. "I already have a picture of Fire Lord Ozai," he said, holding up a very detailed, and realistic portrait of Zuko's father. Sokka's eyes widened slightly at the sight, unable to help but note how much Zuko looked like the man. It burned at his heart unexpectedly, "and here's one that I made out of noodles!" smiled Aang, holding up his art class project.
Pushing his feelings aside he realized he was intrigued by the possibility of intell. It was good to have a sure identifier of the enemy.
"Impressive, I admit, but I still think it's too dangerous."
"I guess we'll never find out about the secret river, then…" sighed Aang. Sokka's interests perked at this. "It goes right to the Fire Lord's Palace. We were supposed to learn about it in class tomorrow…"
"Hmm…" he touched his fingers together in thought and leaned in, narrowing his eyes, "I am a fan of secret rivers…" after a brief pause for thought, he relented. "Fine, let's stay a few more days."
"Flamey-o, Hotman!" Aang exclaimed, before running off to prepare his things for the next day. Well, the boy was happy, at least. With a sigh, he got up as everyone dispersed to their own private corners of the cave to wind down for the evening. The ink portrait remained where Aang had left it, half-curled up and on the ground next to it's noodle doppelganger. Sokka picked it up, deciding to roll it up and keep it somewhere safer, afterall, the troops will have to know what the enemy looks like. He picked it up, but instead of rolling it up, he loosely unfurled it, his eyes wandering over the older man's features.
Ah, so that's what Zuko's father looked like, he thought as he fought to keep his feelings detached and in line. In all his time visiting the young prince, he'd never actually seen the Fire Lord before. Portraits were not hung up in the halls of the palace, save for one area that Zuko had always avoided on their daring walks out of his room. His reluctance became clear only after Sokka had found out Zuko's title.
Ozai's stare was cold and precise; the air about him reminded him of the night he and Zuko had planned to steal Appa back from the Dai Li. It was easy to see how both Azula and Zuko were this man's children. Sokka narrowed his eyes at the image as if the man were before him this moment.
So, this had been the fearsome Fire Lord who'd burned his young son so horribly it had left a permeate and obvious scar. This was the tyrant who'd banished his kid, forcing him to shave his head in a humiliating haircut so that everyone may see his shame and degradation.
The worst part, this kid- who should have hated this man, who should have rightly blamed him for everything bad in his life- threw Sokka away to go back to him. He'd let without a word, dropping him without any warning, after promising he'd change. No, more than he'd change, that he wanted to be with him. He gripped the scroll harder than he'd meant to without knowing, shaking slightly as he seethed at the man's image.
"Sokka?" asked the voice of his sister from behind him.
"Yeah?" he croaked, surprised to find he was pushing down his sadness.
"We're going to have dinner soon… you alright?"
"Yeah," he said, and began rolling the scroll up. "I'll come help."
He moved to put the scroll away, but felt her hand on his shoulder.
"Are you sure you're alright?" she asked, her voice lowered. For a moment, he wondered if Toph had let slip anything, but figured Katara's temper over the matter would never allow for such subtlety- not that he could or would blame her. "You're gripping it pretty…"
He heard the paper crinkle under his grip, and he immediately loosened it.
"Oh...ah, sorry. I'm fine. Just...thinkin' 'bout the invasion."
Though still, he knew she could feel his frantic energy, still trying to push down the anger that threatened to rise from his core and to his eyes.
"You can think about the invasion later," she offered. "You'll be more clear headed after some food, here" she reached out and gently put her hand on the scroll. "I'll put this away."
With a moment of effort, Sokka released his grip, allowing her to take it from him.
"Yeah...sure," he nodded and watched her walk away with it.
Another restless night, another forgotten nightmare. He'd woken up to the sound of lightning crackling through the air. He'd felt the touch of someone on his shoulder, accompanied by an ache in his heart. He'd only vaguely remembered the feeling of pounding against an icy brick wall, before benign pulled away, his hands red and raw from scraping against the frozen brick. He was not sure what had pulled him, but had heard deep growls.
These arbitrary pieces of useless information danced around in his mind, taunting him with some feeling of vague importance that he couldn't contextualize. It was nonsense, he was sure.
He had everything he could possibly want, everything he could remember having before banishment. People bowed as he passed them, knowing full well to respect him and his title, or else. Yet, his title only felt performative, he was a prince in name-alone, it felt. His real goal lay in the very place it had all started; he wanted back in the war room. His father may have forgiven him, but he still wanted to show the man he was capable, that he could be trusted. He was no longer the disrespectful boy he'd once-
"He should be on his knees, begging you-"
"Erragh!" Zuko yelled out in frustration, throwing his fists down and sending a wave of hot fire to trail after them. He interrupted the memory, burning it away before he let it take him.
Memories, this place was full of them. It was bad enough his tether had visited him in his room when they were children, but then there were the memories of his mother, memories of his sister and him playing in the halls before she'd really become the manipulative terror that she was. Worse, sometimes they reminded him of the trip to the spirit world he'd taken. He'd wandered through that confusing palace copy, and he hated how familiar the feeling of being lost came to mind when he wandered the real halls, despite the fact he knew exactly where he was and where he was going.
He held his head, leaned over the edge of his bed, not even dressed for the day. Nothing was expected of him, as far as he knew. For today he was stuck in the hell of tedium, left to amuse himself with whatever he wanted. He wanted nothing, he was sure; he was content, he pushed.
A knock sounded at the door, and he turned to the sound.
"What is it?" he shot out in irritation.
"Your highness," came the voice of a servant, "I have here a letter from the lady Mai for you."
Curious, he lifted his head out of his hands. After a moment's pause, he got up and put on his robe that loosely covered his front, and went to the door. Opening it, he found the servant, dressed in dull reds and blacks, bowed over with a gold platter in their hands. Atop it was a little folded note. He picked it up and quickly read it.
Zuko,
I want to see you. Plan something nice,
-Mai
He lifted his gaze, remembering now that in the week since returning home, he hadn't seen her. Right, he'd forgotten, boyfriends had responsibilities like this. He ran his hand through his disheveled hair, and looked to the servant who remained bowed to him.
Well, he thought, he had no one else to ask.
"What does...one do...on a date?"
The servant paused, and then very slowly, cautiously, lifted their head.
"A...are you asking me, your majesty?"
He felt his cheeks pinch red, and he immediately shook his head.
"Not at all," he said. "Erm- send someone to tell the lady Mai to await further details."
"Yes, your majesty," they bowed, just slightly lower, before backing up and away. He closed the door, if only to allow the poor woman to stand. He leaned against the door, letter in hand, reading it over again.
Yes, short and to the point, like her daggers. He let out a breath as he wracked his brain for date ideas. Something nice, something romantic. Oh, he thought miserably as he slid down the door, if only his uncle were here to advise him. But- no, it was time for him to stand up on his own, he thought. He didn't need his uncle, since the man clearly wanted nothing to do with him. He stared at the messy floor, his thoughts drifting back to Ba Sing Se.
In the quiet, with his private thoughts, he wondered if any of his outings with Sokka could have ever been considered a date. They'd gone to market, they'd eaten meals together, they'd been trapped in the rain together. He could still feel the weight of Sokka's head against his shoulder, how the short hairs of the shaved parts of his head brushed gantly against the long sleeve of his tea server's uniform.
Those days were over, those days were locked inside his heart, and soon he'd forget they ever happened, no matter how frustratingly sad it made him. A date with Mei...what did he want to do together with her?
"What do you want?" asked Sokka, the sun setting casting brilliant gold light on his dark skin, catching his blue eyes like light upon the ocean.
He rose to his feet at once and opened the door. Another servant was outside his quarters.
"My lord," they said at once and bowed.
"Have the kitchen prepare a small picnic basket, but fill it with something nice," he said.
"Yes your highness. May I ask, your highness, if there is anything specific that you wish to dine on?"
"Uh…" he looked away as he thought. "Yes...pork bao,"
"Of course, your majesty. It will be done."
"Also, inform Lady Mai to meet me out on the Khaimuk Look Out, and that she is to come alone," he winced at the last part, it sounded like a standoff.
"Yes, my lord."
They bowed again as he turned back into his room to get ready.
Mai had done as she was told, and had met the Prince at the look out. She'd left her servants to climb the last few flights of natural stairs by herself, and arrived at a small, and rather humble picnic. His back was leaned against a boulder.
Zuko watched her for a reaction, but when none presented itself, Zuko cleared his throat and threw out a hand.
"I thought you might like something small, and quiet," he said. That was a lie, he wanted something small, and quiet. The smallest of smiles graced her face, and she drew closer to him.
"I'm surprised," she said and gently sat down on the blanket next to him. "I thought the Prince of the Fire nation might have something a little more...extravagant in mind."
"Are you disappointed?"
"No," she said, and scooted closer. "I was expecting a standoff."
He winced internally.
"But I like this."
"Mm," he nodded, unsure of what to say as he allowed her head to rest on his shoulder. They looked out to the stretch of sea before them, their gaze off to the horizon.
"You're finally home," said Mai, "and you want to spend our date looking to the horizon."
"I-Is this not romantic?" he balked, but quickly tried to quiet his embarrassment.
"It is," she said, her voice even, "but I wonder where your mind is, Zuko."
She turned to look up to him, and her even gaze made him nervous.
"Erm...are you hungry? I had the kitchen pack us something," he quickly turned away and began preparing that which was brought. Mai's eyebrows raised slightly, eyeing the steamed bun that rested delicately on the fine plates that Zuko brought out, along with a small vegetable dish, and began to prepare a pot of tea for them.
"What are these?" she asked, pointing to the buns.
"Pork Bao. I had them while I was in the Earth Kingdom."
"Peasant food?"
"W-well they called it street food."
"Please don't tell me that's because they roll it in the street."
"N-no, it's served in the street, in little stands, and our shop used to serve it too."
"Your shop?"
"Yeah, Uncle and I, we used to work in a tea house. Anyway, one of the dishes they served was this pork bun, and I-"
"Sounds boring," she said, still eyeing the little bun like it were questionable.
"...It was," he nodded, ignoring that he'd been interrupted. "You'd have to stand for hours, and take orders, and just stand quietly if people were rude or belligerent. I'd constantly be running back and forth to bring food and tea out to people," his treacherous mind playing the memories in the background as he spoke. He remembered the feel of the serving tray, the familiar weight of a full hot tea pot and little cups of cream and sugar resting on it. "It...wasn't always bad though. Sometimes, even though I'd be working all day, it would go quickly…" He remembered the smell of honey from the barley sweet tea wafting in the air as he wound his way past the other tables, the din of low conversation in the air as he approached his destination. He'd always stop and watch this person, this return customer, a moment just before making their presence obvious. They'd look calmly out the window as he'd approach to set their order down, and he'd see them out the corner of his eye turn their bright eyes up to greet him. "...sometimes it was nice."
"Serving tea to strangers sounds like a dull nightmare," she replied with a flat tone.
He blinked out of his memory, shaking himself slightly and cleared his throat.
"Er...yeah, sorry, I don't know why I said that."
"It's fine. And I'm not hungry," she said, turning from the food to lean against the large boulder.
"Okay," He breathed and put the food away.
So they sat there, sharing tea, and looking out to the sun as it continued to draw closer to the horizon.
"You've been pretty preoccupied since you returned," said Mai at last, breaking the silence.
"I…"
"...had a lot on your mind. I know."
"But," he bravely continued. "I'm here now. We can still have a nice time, even if I haven't been around before."
She turned to him, her mind turning something over that her expression did not communicate.
"I suppose you're right. I just had wondered if you were still interested."
"Of course I am," he said, "This has been...I'm not as used to palace life as I once was."
She considered his words a moment, before giving a nod. He leaned in, and she turned back to kiss him in return.
"Ahem," came a voice. They parted, looking to Azula who looked back at her brother with a small mix of disgust and impatience. "Zuko, could I have a word with you?" she asked.
"Can't you see we're busy?" he asked, and attempted to lean in once more, when his sister's voice rang out to interrupt them.
"Oh Mai, Ty Lee needs your help untangling her braid,"
They paused again, Mai immediately pulling away as he looked to Azula. Whatever she was really thinking was quietly masked with a small, complacent smile as she stood.
"Sounds pretty serious," she said, and rose up to leave.
Zuko watched her go, chewing on the inside his lip with some frustration as he turned his gaze back to his sister, who'd thoroughly ruined this date he'd set up.
Azula waited until the girl was just out of ear shot before she spoke, folding her arms again.
"So I heard you've been to visit your uncle fatso in the prison tower."
Zuko blinked, choosing to ignore the fact that she'd made Iroh out to be his uncle alone.
"The guards told you," he started, his temper rising. And after he'd specifically told them not to- ordered them not to. They'd gone against their Prince, and their insolence would-
"No, you did. Just now," she said.
Embarrassment stomped out his temper, and he sat back down. Everything seemed like that these days, when one emotion would flare up, another would swoop in and take over, swinging wildly in one direction, then the other.
"...Ok, you caught me," he muttered. "What is it that you want?"
"Actually? Nothing," she shrugged.
He scoffed.
"Believe it or not I'm looking out for you," she continued. "If people find out you've been to see Uncle, they'll think you're plotting with him. Just be careful, dum-dum."
"Thanks for the warning," he muttered. "but did it have to happen now? While I was still with Mai?" he asked, irritated.
"Call it revenge for interrupting my sleep the other night."
He made a sound of aggravation in his throat that she shrugged off as she walked away.
Now alone, he turned his gaze back out to the sea. He didn't feel like returning to the palace, where all those old memories lived and breathed in the halls, waiting to pounce on him as he'd pass. He watched the ocean instead, folding his knees into himself as he noticed hunger biting at his stomach. Begrudgingly, he reached into the basket, and fished out one of the luke-warm buns. Their sponge texture was damp now from the steam that had regrettably settled on its surface. With no other means of sustenance, he braced himself and took a bite.
He noticed the flavors to be a bit sharper than the ones in the Earth Kingdom. The ones the tea shop used to sell were sweeter, and used more chives. These were more sour, and the pork had been cut into chunks, rather than slow cooked and strung apart. He supposed it was due to the short notice; hard to pack several hours worth of low heat stewing in under an hour.
He wondered a moment as he looked out at the vast ocean, why wanting what he did felt off, like something familiar pulled out of shape. It was a simple question, what did he want? Well he chose didn't he, he asked the memory of Sokka, bitterly. He'd asked, and it wasn't his fault if what he wanted wasn't what he or his Uncle wanted of him. It wasn't his fault his destiny was to return home- why couldn't they understand that?
He'd unknowingly gripped the bao a little too hard, the filling spilling out the side and dripping down onto the blanket before him. He groaned, and without thinking, furiously tossed the bao away and off the cliff. He paused, unsure why he'd done that, before lowering his arm and hugging his legs closer to himself, fending off the sadness.
A dance party, the Avatar wanted to invite Fire Nation brats from the school to a big cave dance party. It was all a part of his plan to change this place for the better, to introduce dancing and fun, and self expression. Well, Aang was the Avatar, and if a peaceful way to introduce some good into this country meant holding a dance party, well, what was the worst that could happen?
The party was underway and already the children from the school, with much encouragement from Aang, had begun to dance. From the amount of people that showed up, and from the varying age range, it was apparent that the whole school had been invited. Many of the children kept their distance from Sokka, who still wore the beard of his guise, Wang Fire. He'd worn it earlier when Aang, whose cover name was Kuzon, had been called to the principal's office of the academy. He'd kept it on, not only because it was glued to his face, but because of the false bravado and sense of importance it brought him when he'd stroke it. It was a nice moment, to pretend to hold some authority, like a character out of a play. He stroked it thoughtfully as he watched the merriment, taking it all in with a sense of pride.
He watched Aang from the side lines, leaned against the cave wall and out of the way of the dancers. The place was brightly lit with many, many, candles that were placed around the whole room. Next to him, seated at a table Toph had made from her earthbending, was said earthbender and his sister. Toph had really gone all out, he thought, looking to the musician's stage, where the platforms varied. There were other tables for people who were tired to sit at that ran along the wall of the cave. His sister had made small ice sculptures with some juice they'd bought in town for thirsty party goers.
As for Aang, he was excited to be able to teach century's-old dances to new people, and was having the time of his life. He zipped about like a dance instructor, excitedly showing off new moves for everyone to follow along with, encouraging and smiling the whole time. In this moment, he was not the Avatar with the weight of the world on his shoulders, he was a kid, enjoying kid-things, and making friends. He was a spark of life, making people laugh and happy to show off what he knew.
Sokka side-eyed his sister, who watched Aang with admiration, and perhaps something else. It looked soft, like love, and possibly a crush. While it had always been obvious what the young Avatar's feeling's were for his sister, she'd always shown a great deal of care for Aang in return, but never in the way it made it obvious that she returned the feelings- or at least, not in front of her brother. He looked back out to the dance, where girls were grouping with their friends, slowly going through the steps together, while it seemed the boys fended for themselves, flailing about and laughing as they ran into one another. Then, with some encouragement from Aang they started to mingle at the center of the dance floor, a happy mix of children all teaching, laughing, flailing, and the music accompanied their happy noises.
"This is incredible," he was just able to hear his sister over the music, and he had to agree. When was the last time they'd had a party? Certainly there had been feasts along their adventures, and there had been the party the Earth King had held, but they hadn't been having fun at the time. Much of that was for "saving-the-world" related business.
His attention was drawn to Aang, who returned only to offer a hand to dance with his sister. He watched the exchange, and how eventually his friend was able to pull his sister to dance in the crowd with him. Eventually, Aang and Katara began to draw the eyes of everyone in the room.
Sokka was sure these were bending katas they were showing off and not real dances, but that didn't seem to distract from their movements. The way they moved with each other was breathtaking to the crowd that watched them. All eyes were on the both of them, and Sokka could read their relationship through their exchange; two people who'd been through so much, who exchanged the spotlight answer always there to catch one another when they'd fallback. They moved in perfect harmony, even when separated for the moment to flip or spin on beat. Neither needed to speak to know where the other needed to be. Watching them, one would almost think they were the soul mates and not...
He gripped at the space above his chest, the warmth of the cave suddenly distant, like being on the outside of everything. Lonely in a crowded cave. He turned and walked out, hoping to feel the cool night air on his skin rather than the warmth of the cave. It might clear his head.
He stepped out and to the small slow river that passed by the cave. He knelt down to the water and used it to clean the glue that held his bead in place off himself. As much fun as it was to envision himself older and with facial hair, it was suddenly too itchy and stifling. He dunked his head in and scrubbed. Finished, he lifted his head back out and felt his hair fall around to frame his face. He clicked his tongue in annoyance and searched the river bed for the small cheap fire nation headpiece that had fallen out. It had held his hair up in the small top knot. He started to try and wind it back up, but found it a hassle when his hair was so wet. He opened his eyes, looking down at his reflection as he held it up once more. The hair on the sides of his head had grown out, this was a conscious choice to make him seem less suspicious. The wolf's tail was a hairstyle warriors of his tribe wore and grew into, and was very distinctly Water Tribe. He ran his hand over the parts where his short hair had grown in, allowing himself the selfish moment to wish he could shave it. Dressed in red as he was, though it was far from the fineries he'd seen his double dressed in, it still unnerved him.
The vision had unnerved him for many reasons, it seemed wholly unnatural to think that after what Zuko had done he'd ever willingly return to his side. But worse, it broke his heart that in the quiet moment's he'd think of Zuko's hand on his chin, on his cheek, his arm wrapped around him.
As the images played in his mind he felt a flare of anger in him that made his hand grip into a fist, and then slann into his reflection.
"Stupid!" he whispered harshly, feeling the river rocks press into his knuckles, his image distorted and warped. He pulled his gaze away and up to the waning moon. He let the droplets from his wet hair fall around him quietly, allowing the chill of night to clear his mind. Well, not quite, he thought, looking up to the moon. A comfort most times, he only felt lonely now, under her waning pale light. "You should have been my tether," he whispered up to her. "If I was going to lose someone anyway…" he said, feeling a tear slide down his face, "then at least it should have been you."
There was no comfort out here, and he might as well let the dancing inside distract him.
Moonlight leaked into his Uncle's cell. Zuko had returned, A nightmare had shocked him back to consciousness, and he knew he wouldn't be able to fall back asleep. Desperation had driven him to visit the prison. His uncle had turned his back on him again. He knelt down with a small basket in hand.
"I brought you some Komodochicken," he started, passing the basket forward. His uncle didn't move. "I know you don't care for it, but I figured it beats prison food."
He was quiet, waiting for any answer he was sure would not come. He'd not heard the man's voice since Ba Sing Se, telling the enemy to escape. Then he'd withheld from his nephew.
"I admit it," Zuko whispered, just loud enough so that he might be heard, his eyes cast to the ground. "I have everything I always wanted...but, it's not at all how I thought it would be. The truth is I need your advice."
The stillness drove him forward. He reached out and grabbed the bars, pressing his face closer.
"I think the Avatar is still alive," he whispered. "No I...I know he's out there," he said, his breath quickening. "I'm losing my mind. Please, Uncle! I'm so confused- I need your help…!"
The man was so distant in his cell, sitting up against the opposite wall, the shadows of the bard lay against him. Here he was, pleading for help from him, needing answers, needing guidance. His uncle should be happy to help him, happy that anyone was visiting him in his cell.
Guilt tore at Zuko's heart, reminding him exactly why it was his family member was here in the first place.
The silence wore on, and Zuko slammed his fist on the bars, a sharp rattling rung out, but his Uncle didn't even jump.
"Forget it!" he said, pushing himself up and away from the bars. "I'll solve this myself! Waste away in here for all I care!"
He left the prison, walking back to the palace on his own, his fists gripped so tightly he could feel his nails indent in his skin, but not the pain of it. His mind reeled with what to do.
A sound, like large scales slithering over a rocky surface, sounded from off to his right. Surprised, he turned and looked around in the darkness for any sign of movement. All was still in the warm night air. He felt his heart thump in his chest as he tried to get his breath to even out, he was jumpy- lack of sleep was obviously the culprit. Whatever that noise was, it was nothing. He turned to walk again, but only managed a few steps before a soft but deep growl rumbled somewhere behind him. He whipped around again, his eyes now frantically searching the shadows.
"...who's there?" he whispered, cautiously.
"Fates within the blood…" something whispered back from the darkness.
He raised his hand and summoned a flame to his palm with a deep breath. It blazed and sparked, and he searched the dancing shadows for any one. Alone as he was, he was susceptible for any kind of ambush. But he was home, in his own territory, no one should want to attack him. No one except…
"...Azula…?" he breathed.
No answer, but still more slithering, then, nothing.
A pause, a stillness in which he could hear his heartbeat in his own ears. He heard footsteps then, and decided to retreat into the shadows of the bordering forest. He stepped back, pulling the cloak he wore close to his frame and she stood behind a tree. Two guards walked up along the path quietly speaking to one another.
"...heard it was the assassin. You know, the one with the specialized bending?"
The other guard gave an involuntary shiver as he spoke.
"Zhu-Rin? I'd hate to think he was back in the Fire Nation."
"That was the detective's only guess," the other shrugged.
"Zhu-Rin is unstoppable. Hope you're not on anyone's hit list, Rei…"
"That's not funny…" the other sighed as they walked off.
An assassin, wondered Zuko, quietly. Perhaps he wouldn't have to be the one to take care of the Avatar-problem himself. He heard the sliding of scales again, but his mind was too preoccupied to give concern to hallucinations. Besides, he'd have to be as quiet and stealthy as any snake if he wanted to pull this off right, anyway.
Satisfied at least that the beard had washed off, and willing to let his hair dry before pulling back up, Sokka walked back into the warmth of the cave. He pocketed the hair piece as he'd walked in, and was headed toward his friends, all sitting together at a table. Their gaze was pointed to the dance, as if looking for someone, probably him. He took in a breath, hoping to mask his sadness for the sake of the party. He took in one breath, then another, but found he wasn't ready. Heartbreak, it seemed, was a difficult feeling to nudge aside.
Around him, people were still dancing about, now going all out after having seen such an amazing display from his friends. He leaned back up against the wall, near the entrance, figuring he'd keep an eye out for trouble and let everyone else enjoy the festivities. His friends would spot him eventually, maybe it'd give him time to bury his sadness and put on a better face.
As he waited, he felt someone approaching. He turned, his eyes catching sight of black locks and bright gold eyes, and for a moment, his heart skipped a beat. It took another second to realize he didn't know this person who smiled at him. Their hair was pulled into the normal bun men wore here, but with the exception of bangs that playfully skirted just above his right eye and parted to that side. They were roughly Sokka's height, if not an inch or so taller. He worried that they'd seen him taking the beard off and had somehow suspected them of being invaders. He stared at them, waiting, suspicious, which made them give a sheepish smile in return.
"Erm, hey," they greeted.
"Hey," said Sokka, a bit stiff in tone.
"I haven't seen you at our school, you new?"
"Er...yeah," he said, now relieved of suspicion.
"Oh, well, I'm Jin," he greeted with a more confident grin, holding out a hand for Sokka to shake.
"Sokka…" he greeted back, shaking the boy's hand. Jin gently gripped Sokka's hand and thumbed back to the dancers behind him.
"Wanna dance?"
Sokka looked from the boy's hand, to the dancers behind him.
"Erm...I don't dance," he shrugged back at him.
"Neither did any of us before we got here," the other laughed. His laughter was completely light, without burden to turn it sour, "Are you shy?"
"I-I'm not shy," he responded, surprised.
"Well…?" he asked, letting go of Sokka, taking a few steps back, but his hand still raised, as if now giving Sokka the option of whether to follow or not.
He felt himself in an odd position, looking to this stranger's invitation to have fun. He remembered a moment in time, the backdrop of it colored by the wall of the second ring of Ba Sing Se, his own hand out to invite Zuko into trouble and fun.
He wanted that memory gone.
He smirked back at Jin and took his hand. He was at once pulled forward and into the crowd. Before he knew it, he was in a sea of bodies, a clearing just big enough for him and his new dance partner to follow along with the others.
Sokka had some practice dancing before in his life, the dances of his tribe relied heavily on beat and the placement of the foot. There were traditional dances, like the ones he remembered at the celebration of his sister's discovered bending abilities, but those were sacred and not meant for fun but for blessing. There hadn't been much in the way of music when he was younger either. There were drums, and one of his aunts had a long necked string instrument that she'd carve out beautiful melodies on, like the sad cry of the winds that rolled along the icy wastes.
Alright so he'd never really danced for fun in his life, a fact that never crossed his mind until he was amongst the other boys and girls. Still, he had at least danced before and knew how. His ability to follow along was a bit easier than even his new dance partner, who looked over at him with a wide unabashed grin.
"Hey, you're good at this," said Jin.
"Yeah, well," shrugged Sokka, taking the compliment with his own rakish grin, "this isn't my first time."
"Oh yeah, what else you got?"
"I dunno if you can handle it," joked Sokka, shaking his head.
"Oh don't worry, I like a challenge," the other grinned back, their gaze field with determination. The sight made Sokka's heart flip in a way he hadn't felt in a long time. Right, time to play it cool. So, breaking off from the ancient Fire Nation ballroom dances, Sokka's feet began to move more quickly, stepping to the beat, and even weaving in the half beat intervals. Jin had stopped dancing to watch him, only going so far as to bop to the beat as Sokka danced before him. He'd finished with a hop and spin, coming back to face his partner with a smirk. When he'd landed he clapped and dipped, rocking his shoulder forward, before pulling it back on the beat. Somewhere along the sidelines he could hear his sister yell, unable to help herself but "chee-hoo" (an exclamation of great excitement his people used as a cheer), and he shook his head at that, unable to keep from smiling.
"Go Sokka!" he heard Aang yell.
Jin laughed, impressed, and a few of the others looked over with their eyebrows raised and smiles of surprise on their faces. Jin did his best to repeat the moves, tripping over himself, but did manage to jump and turn, and clapping, did dip down, before awkwardly pulling back up, all off beat.
Sokka laughed, and to his surprise, so did Jin.
"Not great?" asked the boy.
"Off beat, but only slightly," joked Sokka.
"You make it look easy," the other smiled.
"Let's try something simple," Sokka offered. "Come on, just rock to the beat, shoulders first."
"Okay," he said and started to follow along with Sokka's movements. They rolled to the left, then on beat, rolled to the right. They did this a few more times, and Sokka shook his head.
"Looser," he commanded over the music. "You gotta roll like the tides. Feel it out," he said, and walked behind him. Lightly he put his hands on the other's shoulders, and on the beat they both leaned left, then right. "The roll starts in the side body," he said, putting his hand on the other's hip like an instructor would, "then just let it flow through you like a wave," he said, and they leaned together with Sokka's guidance.
"Hey, I think I got it," Jin said back, rolling again.
"Doin' good."
Sokka took his hand off, but the other boy reached back and caught his hand that had been on his shoulder. Jin turned back to him, still holding it.
"Alright, alright," nodded Jin, "What about this move?"
He drew Sokka's hand up and led him to twirl. Surprised, Sokka still went with it, not wanting to disturb the flow of dance. When he'd spun, the boy gently, but forcefully pulled at him, and Sokka couldn't help but step forward, feeling the other's hand on his lower back. The touch alone sent his heart into his throat.
"I just saw Kuzon pull off that move," Jin winked.
Moment ruined by the mention of his friend putting the moves on his sister. He tried to put it out of his mind, coughing a short laugh and looking away, feeling a small heat to his cheeks.
"You know," Jin continued, still holding Sokka as he began to rock his shoulders in the way Sokka had been teaching him. "I've never seen anyone with your eye color."
"Oh...yeah, well...we're from the colonies," he deflected casually.
"The colonies, cool," the other nodded. "Never been there. What's it like?"
"Very...colonial," he said, thinking that perhaps Jin was getting too close to him. Jin chuckled.
"Not much for talking, are you?"
"I'm just, you know, enjoying dancing," he shrugged, avoiding his gaze.
"Alright," he relented with a smile. He let go of Sokka, and they parted just enough so that they might follow what the dancers around them were doing.
The talking over, Sokka paid more attention to his partner. Jin was a terrible dancer, and despite the fact that Sokka would laugh, Jin would always join in with him, sharing how ridiculous he looked. The way this boy smiled, the way he laughed and danced with him, it was wonderful, and fun, but also so painful in moments. He found himself missing Zuko as the dance wore on. He wondered why, especially when he was sure Zuko would never ask him to dance. But he would ask Zuko to dance, and Zuko might, if this were Ba Sing Se, if he hadn't betrayed him and come with them, if he hadn't thrown him away like he did.
"Hey," said Jin, catching Sokka's attention as a thoughtful look came over him. "Everything alright?"
"Yeah, sorry, I'm just thinking."
"I thought you wanted to do dance," he teased lightly. Sokka smiled back.
"I can do both. I'm not the beginner, remember?"
"True, true," he nodded. "Can't forget when I've got two left feet. Still, I'm having fun, I just hope you are too."
Was he, he wondered. Well he wasn't when his mind was pulled back to Zuko. But why should he think of him, especially where there was someone who actually wanted to be around him dancing with him.
"I am," he decided.
They drew closer together, but a commotion at the front cut the music short and drew everyone's attention. An older man, accompanied by a small guard of Fire Nation soldiers, were at the front.
"He's the one we want," yelled the old man, "the boy with the headband."
At once he saw someone run through the crowd as the soldiers started running in to follow. It must have been Aang, which meant that the party was over. It was time for him to go. He turned to run, but Jin turned back to him.
"Hey, where are you going?"
"That's my friend they're after," Sokka whispered. "I gotta go,"
"Will I ever see you again?"
"Probably not," he said, ignoring the way his heart fell from that.
"Well, then," Jin took a step forward and boldly kissed Sokka's cheek. The other stood struck dumb in surprise, his breath having been absolutely taken from him by the action. "Go find your friend, we'll all cover for you. And thanks for the dance," he winked.
"Uh-huh," he nodded, barely registering what Jin had said.
"Sokka!" he heard his sister hiss at him from somewhere to his right. His arm was grabbed by her and they hurried off together. He turned his head back to see Jin donning the school uniform's waist sash as a headband with the other children to allow cover for Aang's to escape.
His heart panged in regret as he turned and ran further into the cave.
Appa had been hiding on the other side of the cave, which Toph bended to create another opening for them. They hopped on Appa and flew off into the night, forced to find a new place to sleep.
"Whoo," sighed Toph. "Good party, Twinkle Toes. I think you really did help those kids. You taught them to be free."
"I don't know, it was just a dance party, that's all."
"Well that was some dance party," she said, and leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek. Aang blushed as she pulled away, a sheepish grin on his face. "You even got Sokka out there and dancing," she continued, looking to her brother. Speaking of which, what's up with your hair?" asked Katara when he'd returned. "You really cut loose out there?"
"My...oh!" he reached into his pocket. Figuring his hair was dry enough he tied it up. "It fell out when I scrubbed off the beard."
"Saw you dancing with someone," she pressed, leaning in. "Didja have fun?"
The others laughed as he grimaced at her.
"You love to tease me, don't you?"
"I am your sister," she laughed. "Relax, I think it's nice to see you actually have fun every now and then. Especially with the weird mood you've been in lately."
He scoffed and looked away.
"Well don't get used to it- after all we have a schedule to keep up. This delayed us, but I think with careful planning we can make it there on time- if not earlier! Oh! Wait, I think I have an idea how we can save time, too!"
"Guess the fun really is over," Toph muttered. The others laughed.