I like snow at Christmas but after than, no thanks lol. I just hate driving in it. I'm not a winter person. But I like the idea of snow lol. Like the aesthetic of it.

"I felt you would tend to this one somehow." I have decided to say fuck it and do all four. Challenge mode. :v "There has been less new long term Sokkla fics out here lately, or I just haven't noticed them." I've noticed that myself lol so I wanted to fix it. Agreed tho, I like the diversity of the shipping. Honestly, all of the stories seemed to be well received so I wanted to continue all of them. I'm that person who will stand in a store debating between two items before tossing both into the cart. "

It fits to his character so well, he cannot act otherwise, Azula or not. He knew that they would need his dad to keep her alive and so he tried what he could. Clever idea to use ropes to keep up orientation during the storm." I can't see him not going out of his way to help someone, even if it is a risk to himself.

"She has a fever, is weak (her flame isn't even blue anymore) and needs rest and she has lost her memory." Yes, she's still not completely fine yet. "I love how she has kept her attitude and obviously her determant" There is this infamous fic called How I Became Yours where Azula lost her memory and became a completely different character and I was trying to avoid that. She lost her memory, not her personality. "It's interesting that Sokka covers her attack on him." He doesn't want to make things any harder for her. "You keep getting better and better at dialogues in my opinion." Thanks :D I did have fun with the stew conversation. I'm really excited to write her finding out about her past. Thanks again for the review!


Sokka swallows, so he had been right. He eyes her silently for some time, until she shifts awkwardly and pretends to be invested in wrapping herself further into her blankets.

"Do you know who I am?" She breaks the silence.

Sokka bites the inside of his cheek as he weighs the pros and cons of telling her the truth.

"You do know me." There is a confidence I her tone. "Don't you?"

"Yeah." He confesses. "Sort of. We weren't close."

"Who am I?" She asks with a sniffle. He offers her a tissue that she takes without hesitation. Her nose is still a shade of red.

"I think that we should swap out your bandages." He changes the subject. He catches her looking at her hand. "That must be hard to get used to."

Azula nods. "I'll get over it." Her words transition into a solemn sigh. "What I won't get over is that you have more memories of me than I do."

"Can we talk about this some other time?" He asks as he unravels the bandages wrapped around her hand.

"No." But as soon as her hand is in view, she seems to change her mind, going entirely quiet. Her expression seems to dim. Sokka carefully dabs at the wound with some cleansing ointment. She gives a small hiss of pain at the initial contact before falling silent again. "You didn't like me, did you?"

The question takes him aback. "Why would you think that?"

Azula shrugs. "Why else wouldn't you tell me?"

He sighs, "your life wasn't exactly the best."

She stares at him, waiting for an elaboration. He doesn't give it to her. Instead he admits, "no, we didn't always get along." He puts her hand in her lap, freshly bandaged.

"Well now that you know who I am, why are you still helping me?"

Sokka shrugs. "I don't know, I guess it's not fair to punish you for things that you don't remember."

.oOo.

"Then help me remember." She frowns. To have answers so close but equally distant is frustrating. "At least tell me one thing."

He thinks for a moment. "You used to bend blue fire." He pauses, "maybe it's only orange because you're so hurt."

She cradles her hand against her torso and stares at the blazing fire. There is a fluttering sensation in her belly and she doesn't know if she should attribute it to still being in recovery or if it is the product of Sokka's secrecy.

Could things have really been so horrible that he finds it merciful to keep her in the dark. She supposes that it must have been if events transpired in a way that landed her in that frigid institution.

"I can take you home." Sokka offers.

"Yes. Perhaps that will spark some recollection." She nods.

"Until then, I think that you should take up a different alias."

The knots in her stomach tighten that much more. Just what kind of past does she have? She begins to speculate that she is some sort of fugitive. That her entrapment had been deliberate. She swallows, "and why will that be necessary?" Her question is punctuated with a series of coughs. Agni, she feels terrible. Terrible and weak. She leans heavily against the couch.

Maybe the unease is plain on her face or maybe the coughs have him taking pity on her soul, because his expression softens and he flashes a little smile, "it'll probably be easier to travel that way. You'll draw less attention."

And now she can't tell if she had been an idol or a terrorist. She was tired before, the thought leaves her completely exhausted.

.oOo.

Sokka sighs, she was already anxious and he is doing little to help. "Look, I can tell you a bit about yourself on the way to the Fire Nation. I'll give us something to do."

Her mood seems to brighten, if only a little. "I suppose that I can wait a little longer."

"As soon as the weather clears up we can go. You don't mind sea travel do you?" He nearly slaps his own forehead, "you don't know do you?"

Azula seems to ponder for a moment before shrugging. "I'll take my chances at sea before I test my luck out there again." She nods towards the tundra. "It's so empty out there. The way the wind howls…" She gives a slight shudder.

"You don't need to go out there again."

"I shouldn't have been out there in the first place." She untangles herself from the blankets and stretches her arms. She sits back down almost immediately, holding her good hand to her head.

"You okay?"

"Dizzy." She replies.

"Why don't you lay back down?"

Azula wanders back to the sofa and stretches herself upon it. She pulls the blankets up to her chin and clutches the as tightly to herself as she can. Sokka puts a hand on her forehead. "I'll have Katara and Gran-Gran make you some herbal tea and medicine." She doesn't reply, seeming to have already drifted off into some half-awake state.

Her breathing remains even.

He spares her a look before making his way to the kitchen. He sighs to himself. He never thought that he'd find himself feeling bad for Azula of all people. But then, her company is much more pleasant to be in when her memories are subdued.

"How is she?" Katara asks.

"I think that she's in the clear. She's just got a cold and I think that the painkillers are making her sleepy."

"I have some seaweed stew ready."

"She doesn't like it." Sokka laughs.

"Did you find out who she is and what she was doing out there?"

Sokka frowns. "She escaped from some kind of...place." He pauses.

"A place?" Katara quirks a brow?

"An institution of some kind." He furrows his brows, having been struck by a sudden realization; Azula had been institutionalized on a Fire Nation island and she had already fled that one. Just where the hell was she? "I haven't asked her what she meant by that."

"Did you at least ask her name?"

Sokka hesitates, "she doesn't remember it." He stomach lurches with the lie. Really he ought to tell her, he can't say why he didn't. "She's having trouble remembering a lot of things. She just knows that she was running away from...that place."

"Sometimes hypothermia leads to memory loss." Hakoda notes from his seat at the table. "She was out there long enough…"

Though Sokka has a feeling that it runs deeper than that. Perhaps the hypothermia has exasperated it, but he has an inkling that her amnesia settled in long before the chill did. "I'll find out what happened to her."

.oOo.

She is shivering violently, her body fully exposed. She can't seem to focus on anything in the room.

No, it isn't a room. It is a space.

An empty, white space. A little pocket dimension, separate from the universe from which she came.

She rubs her hands on her biceps, finding that they are coated with a thick layer of glittering frost. Her breath is a visible black vapor. It surrounds her and refuses to dissipate. Every exhale suffocates her more.

She tries to stand up and move but the ice coats her so thickly that she can't even twitch her leg. She can only shiver as the cold eats away at her. Can only tremble as her own breathing overtakes her. The black cloud accumulates until her white world goes fully black.

The blackness is worse than the blinding white.

She can still feel the sting as wind whips shards of ice on to her skin.

When the darkness clears, Azula finds that her chin and arms are host to a gathering of icicles. And the empty space at the bend of her knee is decorated with them too.

She sees the figures, there are so many of them.

They are tall and faceless.

They are white like snow with hands like quartz.

They are beautiful.

And they are horrible.

Those crystalline hands touch her back. They are so frigid that they are white hot. They begin to lift her and her heart races. Her mind is screaming but her lips cannot. They cannot even part. Not even slightly.

Their lifting becomes more forceful and the knots in her stomach swell.

They are going to shatter her.

They are having trouble lifting her against the ice that binds her to the floor. They tug harder and harder still until she hears a horrific snap and then another. Cracks appear on the surface of her skin and still they tug and pull.

The force is too much and she crumbles.