Gladiator

by Seyary-Minamoto

In a world where the Avatar wasn't found, the Fire Nation took over two nations and they strive to overcome the last one. Water Tribe warrior Sokka seeks to fight for his people's rights, but he's captured by his enemies. His life is no longer in his hands as he fights as a Gladiator, and his fate will eventually depend on the Fire Nation Princess, who needs him for her own ends...

250. Chapter 250: Broken Apart 3

Broken Apart

3

Motionless under the glaring, weak sunlight, the Barge swayed weakly under the occasional subtle waves out in the deep ocean. All engines had stopped functioning well over an hour ago. The blue spread of rivaling skies and seas around the large vessel never felt more unbecoming than it did that day.

What a beautiful day it would be if only the tidings were any less distressing than they were: the guards worked together on deck to ensure the hot-air balloon would be ready to set out as soon as the time was right, after having done the same with the emergency skiff – carrying boats for emergencies had been a standard practice among ships of the Fire Nation navy for well over half a century by now. The skiff aboard the Barge had never seen any use until that day: no one had needed to flee from this vessel since it had first been constructed. Ensuring the skiff remained functional was standard procedure before every voyage, so its lack of use in the past should not render it any less effective for their purposes today.

That the small ship might sail for the first time brought its future passengers no joy: the guards lingered on deck, silent and uneasy. Rui Shi, Fei Li and Haoren conveyed Azula's orders halfheartedly to the others and after some protest, the rest of the guards had complied with the Princess's wishes. The Barge had been brought to a halt not far from the waters that Whaletail Island's patrolling ships frequented: it wouldn't take too long for them to be sighted, so they'd have to take their leave long before that happened.

They had removed their uniforms: they might sell them if they had the chance, for they'd serve them no purpose in a life on the road. All of them were clad in casual, simple clothes that might not mask their identities completely… but as their faces were scarcely known, they found little fear in showing them. Whatever persecution they'd face in the future, though, would be something to worry about then, not now. Not when time continued to tick away and the Princess had yet to show herself before them.

Xin Long had warmed up enough by now to take flight on occasion: he had perched on the Barge's tower carefully, perhaps intending to encourage his rider to do as Rui Shi had asked. He descended eventually, rubbing his head against each guard in his path until he reached Rui Shi. It was hard to judge whether he sought to comfort him by wrapping himself around the guard's body, or if he simply wanted to convey his appreciation for him. Rui Shi sighed this time, no longer as awkward about the dragon's strange displays of affection… for who knew if Rui Shi would ever be their recipient again, as things stood?

"Is she on her way?" he asked, softly. Xin Long's gentle nod brought the man to sigh –of relief and disappointment, all at once.

Another minute passed before a shadow crossed the tower's threshold: every waiting guard rose to their feet, and Xin Long released Rui Shi from his hold as his rider finally stepped out, into the open deck.

Clad in her black armor, with her hair tamed into a half-knot – albeit not even close to a perfect one –, Azula should have appeared reminiscent, at least, of the driven Princess, the figure of authority she had always been in the past. Today, however, the armor appeared too large for her, no matter if it had been crafted with her specific measurements. Today, her slow pace and hung head spoke for themselves regarding how little she believed she deserved to be deemed a Princess: she did not wear her hairpiece, whether intentionally or not.

"Princess…" Fei Li gasped: it was what Rui Shi had asked of her… and yet she still looked inevitably broken, regardless of her efforts to the opposite.

Xin Long sprung towards her, pressing his head to her chest: Azula clung to his horns, finding support in her dragon's willful assistance, and she kept a hand in his long, flowing mane as she stepped towards her men slowly, each footstep echoing across the metallic ship.

She finally raised her head once she stood close enough to the guards: she wished she could hide herself despite everything, to conceal the still-red eyes that no doubt alarmed her men and that, she suspected, didn't suit her in the least. How she longed to grieve and mourn the future quietly, alone, unbothered, uninterrupted… she knew she wouldn't be fortunate enough to do that, considering what kind of nightmares likely lurked in the dark fate she intended to throw herself into, to protect her men… to protect him.

"You're… you're ready now?" Azula asked, her strained voice ever the evidence of her spilled tears. Rui Shi nodded slowly, though another guard stepped forward.

"Do we really have to…?" Han asked, staring at Azula hopelessly. "Princess…"

"I'm sure Rui Shi has already informed all of you of the situation," Azula whispered, softly. "If something's for certain… it is that you have to, Han. Whether any of us like it or not."

The youngest of the guards grimaced but lowered his head in defeat. Taro placed a hand on his shoulder appreciatively: he likely would have asked the same question, but it seemed the Princess's miserable appearance deterred him, and everyone else, from begging her to choose any road but this one.

"Please… be careful," Azula said, softly. "Stay in the least treacherous waters you can. The currents near Whaletail Island are a hazard, as you may know…"

"We're aware, yes," Tai Wei confirmed. "We've traced a route that should take us safely to…"

"Don't tell me," Azula requested, closing her eyes. "The less I know of your future movements and locations, the better. I trust you'll know how to avoid unwanted attention, and how to ensure the Fire Nation army won't detect your group…"

"We'll do our best to that end," Rui Shi confirmed, nodding. Azula swallowed hard.

"You've taken enough food with you as well? I know we didn't have much left, but…"

"We have enough for the journey and money for the future as well," Rui Shi reassured her. Azula breathed deeply and nodded.

"Then… it seems you're ready," she said, pressing her lips tightly. "Travel safely… and live on, as best as you can, all of you. Make the most… of the future you have ahead of yourselves."

Azula breathed slowly, unwilling and unable to raise her eyes to meet those of her soldiers. She expected her words to sit ill with them, all of them… for they had believed she'd be part of that future. They had hoped their efforts to save her wouldn't be in vain: the truth was that they hadn't been, in the least, even if they had resulted in an outcome so distant from the one her guards had intended.

"You… you deserve that too, you know?" Fei Li finally said, breaking that tense silence as he stepped forward: Azula closed her eyes, suspecting they would overflow with tears again with whatever her men would say next. "A future worth fighting for… a future worth living out, as best you can. I'm sorry, I know it's the last thing you want to hear right now, but… it makes me so mad that you can't have one. I… I really would do anything if it meant you could be free…"

"All of us would," Haoren agreed, softly. "And… maybe that's what we'll do with our future. We'll live out each day that comes next in your honor… so that if we have a chance to help you one day, we'll be able to take it."

"You're too kind in your own way, Princess," said Jianghuo, smiling sadly. "None of our lives could ever be more valuable than yours… but you don't see it that way. You believe each of us is important… just as you're the most important person for all of us. That won't change, no matter how far away we may be."

"It was the luckiest day of any of our lives when you decided we were worthy of serving as your guards," said Wuhan, bowing his head solemnly towards her.

"None of us think any differently, no matter what's happened since then," Shuren finished for him, his voice as earnest as that of his fellow guards.

"We know now why you did everything you did… why your choices were what they were," Taro smiled, ever as kindly as he was. "You were very generous to offer us as potential Imperial Guards when you did, but the truth is… nobody here wanted to serve the Fire Lord rather than you, Princess. Which, I suppose, made us terrible for the job, and yet they never noticed that until it was too late, huh…?"

"Maybe they didn't, but even if they had, I don't think I could've ever pretended to be loyal to him over her," Qiang said, with a proud smile. "Why serve a man who sacrifices his soldiers as though they were meaningless… rather than the woman who protects her soldiers because she believes we're worth it?"

"And that's… that's what makes this so hard for all of us…" Han said, sniffing and brushing the underside of his nose with a hand. "I… I know there's no way we'll ever serve a better leader than you. Or better causes than yours. Wherever we go next… we'll never find anyone like you."

"And that's a good thing," Tai Wei decided, strongly. "Because that will only encourage us to find the strength and come fight for you, when the time is right, as we agreed to. As you deserve, Princess."

Azula's fists tightened as she listened to their words. Fei Li nodded soundly at everything they said, while Rui Shi held his calm as best he could, despite his chest tightened at each intervention of his fellow soldiers, who were bold enough to speak words he lacked the strength to voice…

"If you ever need us… if things ever get so bad that you have no choice but to run away, Princess, you and Xin Long should come find us," Fei Li determined, with a fierce frown. "If it ever comes to that… we'll protect you, as you've always protected us. As is our duty to you… as it always has been."

Imagining such an outcome, running off with her guards, only hurt further. Even so, Azula let herself think of it… allowed herself to believe, however briefly, that there was a chance she could escape. A possible future where she wouldn't be lost to everyone who loved her most… oh, to think anyone did, truly. To think she had spent years of her life dreading she was utterly alone, that nobody would ever take her side when she needed it most direly… and now she found herself at the receiving end of such fierce devotion. She couldn't pretend to know if they'd ever meet again… but their words and loyalty would be enough even if they never did. Knowing someone, anyone, had meant to fight for her as much as they wished to, would suffice.

"We were privileged for certain… to serve the worthiest member of the Royal Family."

Rui Shi's intervention came in last, as he gazed at Azula compassionately. His voice, in particular, seemed to shatter whatever strength she had left, whatever firmness she could pretend to retain when everything hurt as much as it did…

"It doesn't matter where we may go next… it doesn't matter how far apart we may be," Rui Shi continued, fists tightened just like hers. "Our loyalty, our faithfulness, is yours for good. You earned it through every lesson we learned from you. Through every glimpse of true greatness we saw in you, from the earliest moments until this very day. Whatever we can do, we shall… and while we cannot act right now, we will prepare for the day when we can. Even if it takes ten years, or twenty, or longer yet… none of us will ever forsake you, because we are your guards. Your Royal Guards. Your Imperial Guards. Yours, by duty, conviction and honor, for as long as all of us may live."

Azula breathed deeply, failing to calm herself. Tears spilled down her cheeks: yet again she found herself too vulnerable, before far too many people… people who thought no less of her over the emotions she couldn't restrain. Still, she managed to nod, with as much gracefulness as she could muster, before speaking aloud again.

"I couldn't have asked… for better guards than you all," she said, trembling violently. "Thank you… for everything."

Fei Li breathed deeply, tears surging in his eyes as well at the sight of Azula's own. He shook his head powerfully before stepping forward, past Rui Shi.

"I'm going to be very inappropriate now… and I'm sorry for that," he said, swallowing hard. "But I think… if I'm allowed one concession, it should be this. C-can I… hug you?"

Azula hesitated briefly: she didn't wish to reject him, but she knew the tears would only worsen for it. Oh, but who cared anymore, at this point…

She nodded weakly, and instants later, she had been engulfed in the enthusiastic man's arms. He held her kindly, letting her cry on his shoulder for a moment before pulling away, his heart rendered helpless against her tears.

"Yours… by duty, conviction and honor. For as long as we all may live," he repeated, with a gentle smile.

Taro boldly stepped forward after him: Fei Li had only pulled away briefly before the older man embraced the Princess as well, patting her back kindly while minding her still-injured shoulder.

"Yours, by duty, conviction and honor, for as long as we all may live," Taro said, as well, with a kindly, familial smile, when he pulled away.

Rui Shi's words were spoken repeatedly as, one by one, the guards stepped forward to do the unthinkable: never had they expected to touch their Princess other than to protect her from any dangers, let alone had they thought they'd embrace her, outright, while conveying their absolute loyalty to her, yet Qiang followed after Taro. Then it was Shuren, and Jianghuo, Tai Wei, Han – who sobbed softly as well, as he embraced Azula kindly –, Haoren, Wuhan…

The last to embrace her was Rui Shi, naturally: he held her with far less uncertainty and nervousness than the others, for it wasn't the first time he'd done so… and he deeply hoped it wouldn't be the last. Azula cried into his chest while he held her gently, knowing just how deep her pain was… a pain he felt no shortage of, either. Him, Song, Sokka and Azula… all four of them had been torn away from those one they loved. But where Song would be safe where he'd sent her, where Sokka had returned home, where Rui Shi would have the rest of the guards… Azula would be virtually alone, fighting the darkest of all battles by herself. That she still had the strength to go forward with thid plsn, that she wouldn't be desperate to run off, to flee from her father's reach until she couldn't run any further, or any faster… it spoke of how true her heart was, how much strength dwelled inside it that, even when it was breaking, she remained braver than anyone else Rui Shi had ever met.

"Thank you, as well. For… for leading us by example. For teaching us more than we ever knew we could learn," he spoke in her ear. Azula shuddered in his arms, and Rui Shi breathed deeply. "Whatever happens, we won't ever stop being your guards, Princess: we serve the true and worthy Fire Lord Azula, and we will until we fade from this world. This we vow to you, forevermore."

All protocol had been breached and broken: the bond between the Princess and her men had discarded all ties with the traditional Fire Nation precepts of authority and dutiful obedience. One man had singlehandedly seen to defying said precepts in Azula's heart… and with each passing day, she found herself letting go of countless restrictions she had abided by throughout her life. Doing away with learned behavior wasn't always easy… but he had made it so easy without even setting out to do so. She owed him so much more than she could ever repay him for… for, without him, this farewell would certainly hurt less, but Azula didn't want it to. She wouldn't only say goodbye to men who obeyed and served her… she said goodbye to friends she would miss profoundly, whose companionship she had grown to prize and cherish beyond all her expectations.

Rui Shi breathed deeply: twin tears escaped his eyes, dripping down his face, pressed to Azula's hair. It couldn't be the last goodbye. The only way to leave at all was by filling his heart with the belief, the faith, that they would meet again someday.

It hurt to pull away, though, to feel her weak hands dropping from his waist, where they had wound up while he held her in his arms. His fingers trailed over her cheek one more time, wiping the trail of tears as he offered her the most fragile smile he could remember having offered someone before.

"Until we meet again… Princess Azula."

She took a sharp breath, nodding weakly before allowing her eyes to gaze up at his: such a stoic, strong, dutiful man, yet he was moved to tears all the same in the wake of parting ways with her. She barely wanted to imagine how it would feel to return to the Fire Nation while knowing her fiercest protectors would be out of reach, unable to aid her, unable to offer her any respite when she might need it most… but their survival, their safety, mattered far more than her comfort. Whatever she'd have to endure, she'd bear with it… so long as all of them lived on.

Rui Shi turned to the rest of his men, most of whom were just as tearful as him, or worse yet, in some cases. He nodded at Tai Wei, who bowed his head respectfully: their team would be divided in two, with four men flying on the hot-air balloon while six traveled on the emergency skiff. Tai Wei's expertise made him the better suited for navigating the waters of the southern Earth Kingdom, while Fei Li's curiosity and interest in the hot-air balloons had turned him into the right man for flying himself and three more guards out of danger. To ensure the boat could take off without issue, Rui Shi and Jianghuo would head down with the rest of the ship's group first, to open and close the ramp on the Barge's hull through which the emergency skiff would take to the open waters.

With just a nod from their leader, the men took to their stations: Tai Wei clasped Azula's shoulder gently as he passed next to her, Shuren, Wuhan, Taro, Han and Qiang bowed their heads as they stepped to the tower… and soon they were inside the tower, on their way to the smallest vessel available for their escape. Rui Shi and Jianghuo followed them as well, but Azula would see them one more time once they returned to the main deck.

Fei Li and Haoren climbed the hot-air balloon, working quickly to start the engine: they would take all the Barge's remaining fuel on both their escape vehicles, leaving the large ship to float aimlessly in the ocean until it was found by patrols. There would be enough food left for Azula to survive on, although she lacked the appetite for any nourishment when her heart hung as heavily as it did. The guards would bring their own provisions and bags with them, leaving no trace of their presence on the Barge… much as the first passenger to leave the ship had left none of his own, as well.

Loneliness clawed at Azula's heart. She simply stood in place, closing her eyes, knowing the very presence of that feeling had changed in nature, across the years: no longer did she yearn for the companionship and loyalty she had never experienced. Instead, she longed for the one she had cherished and lost, whether over her own, careless mistakes or over the cruelty of her father's actions, perhaps over the harshness of inevitable fate and destiny, rolling towards her as ruthless and mercilessly as an avalanche, poised to fulfill a long-spoken prophecy she had disregarded as folly… and that now appeared to take form in the worst possible way it ever could.

Still, she wasn't alone… she would never be quite as lonely as she had been before: her dragon lingered nearby and he slipped closer to her now, pressing his head to her chest once more. Azula sighed, embracing him gently, wishing she could offer him any uplifting thoughts, genuine hopes that might be less overwhelming than her ongoing agony… but the direct connection between their souls could not be tricked or sugarcoated so her miserable thoughts wouldn't affect Xin Long, who experienced no shortage of sorrow of his own over so many goodbyes. What little comfort they could find in each other would certainly lighten their loads slightly, for neither one was alone anymore… and regardless of whatever the future might hold in store, they would always have each other.

Within five minutes, the whirring sound of the stern's opening hatch, and the ramp that spread out to slide the ship down to the water, shattered the tender silence at sea. Once the boat's hull touched the water, and they buoyed safely for a few moments, Taro undid the chain with which the boat remained locked to the Barge: Rui Shi and Jianghuo reeled it back before closing the hatch and returning up to the deck.

The hot-air balloon was ready to take off once they reached it: Rui Shi breathed deeply at the sight of the red fabric, with the Fire Nation's emblem across it. Perhaps it should be strange that a former Royal Guard would feel so appalled over the sight of his nation's symbol… but he felt he could set the black flame on actual fire just with his glare, powered by his profound frustrations with everything the Fire Lord's ideologies and beliefs had caused in the world. Theirs was but one more tragedy out of countless… one more crime by the Princess's forefathers who deserved no honor, no glory, only to be remembered as the true monsters they were, if remembered at all…

He glanced at Azula, finding her cradling her dragon in her arms this time: he had already said his goodbyes, but he felt the urge to do so again, if just to extend their time a little longer. There was no point to it, however… he would risk much if they waited another moment.

So he followed Jianghuo, and closed the small door on the hot-air balloon's basket behind himself. From there, he gazed at the Princess wistfully, fists trembling violently when Fei Li lowered the balloon's lid: they began to ascend slowly, pulling away from the very ship they had struggled to land on safely less than two weeks ago.

Azula raised her tearful gaze towards her departing companions and friends: the mild breeze that flowed didn't push the airborne balloon away from the Barge too quickly. It swayed in place for a moment as it rode higher into the air, aiming for the skies.

She could hear the mild sounds of the emergency skiff's engine to her right: the vehicles would take off together, in the same direction, as distant from the patrols as possible. If all went well, they'd go undetected for long enough to evade the likely onslaught of soldiers her father had surely sent after her. If Azula's hopes were vindicated, they'd find someplace safe, someplace where they would be free to make a living regardless of their past. If the very best-case scenario unfolded, there was even a chance they might find true happiness and peace in their new lives… somehow.

Both Xin Long and the Princess gazed up at the rising hot-air balloon, though: Rui Shi lingered by the edge, his eyes set on them for as long as possible… for as long as he could until distance made it impossible, until the clouds blocked his eyesight and blurred his Princess away from him for good.

Tears surged in Azula's eyes once more as he drifted away… as more valuable, treasured people vanished from her life. To think she'd had to push them away… to think she'd had to push away the man she loved as well, when she wanted nothing but to cling to each of them forever. Where she had once craved the devoted companionship they had offered her, now she found her responsibility, her true way to repay their affection and loyalty, meant offering them a chance to fight for their future, to fly into a tomorrow that ought to be much brighter than hers: they deserved nothing less than that.

Gradually, the sound of the machinery in motion drifted off until it faded completely. Little by little, that red balloon rose in the sky until it was but a stain of darkness against so many white clouds… and then it was gone.

Azula sighed, closing her eyes, trying to restrain the overwhelming, painful emotions. Her arms tightened around Xin Long, and she fell to her knees while still supporting herself against her dragon's body… and she cried, shuddering painfully against her dragon's scales. She pressed her face to his body, to what warmth he could offer her, even though it couldn't seem to offset the frost that clung to her very soul. She had always been grateful for Xin Long, but having him by her side right now proved vital for Azula. His low, gentle groans encouraged her to set herself free from all her burdens with him… to hold back none of her grief, to restrain nothing, for she no longer had to force herself to act for the greater good. The dice had rolled… and everything was well out of her hands by now. There was nothing more for them to do other than waiting for the world to find them… and she could succumb to her frustrations while they waited, indeed. She had time to do so, surely, even if there was no telling just how much of it.

Neither one kept a close watch on the horizon, neither one could tell whether the Whaletail Island patrols were anywhere nearby or if they had been spotted at all: they drifted with no destination for hours, swaying mildly if the wind happened to blow powerfully, or lingering almost statically if it didn't. By the second hour since her men had left, Azula's tears had finally slowed and dried up: the sun burned high in the sky, with more power than it had through the latest days of their journey. Two more hours saw Azula shifting in position, finding little respite from the sun by resting, face-down on her dragon's back. She had forgotten to fix his saddle, in the end… not that she expected her rudimentary sewing skills would do it any good, truly.

"Maybe I shouldn't fix it at all," Azula mused, speaking with a watery voice for the first time in hours: Xin Long glanced at her with a start, puzzled by her sudden idea. "Just… I… I will always have you, we both know that. It's… it's not the same as everyone else, Xin. Our minds and hearts are connected… so maybe you shouldn't stay with me. Your friends, they're…"

Xin Long as good as harrumphed, his first reaction against Azula's lasting misery: there was no way he would leave her alone. His dragon friends… yes, he wished they could have had another chance to see them, but they would be safe still, she had seen to that by not sharing knowledge of their existence and location with anyone else. Meanwhile, Azula was at her lowest, darkest point and she'd be fighting her battles almost by her lonesome: how could she expect him to abandon her now?

"I… I don't think you'd be abandoning me, Xin, I just…" Azula said, gritting her teeth and pressing her face into his hair. "I don't know what to do. Anyone close to me… how do I know my father won't try to hurt you next? It would be stupid if he tried, I know, but… he's too furious to think clearly. He was, at least…"

All her worries, of course, hinged on her father's survival after Sokka had set the Royal Dome on fire. Somehow, Azula had grown convinced he had made it… somehow, it would make everything so much easier if he hadn't.

Or would it?

Without her around, who would have taken the reins of the Fire Nation if her father was gone? The first thought to come to mind was General Shaofeng: the bastard surely had lingered closer to the Dome's exit than everyone else, for he hadn't returned to her balcony after she had deflected him and tossed him into the sand pit. If someone had likely survived the inferno, it was that bastard. Would he waste a single moment before making a play to take control of the Fire Nation? Would the people accept him as their new ruler? No, they likely wouldn't… and he'd make short work of every single person who attempted to remove him from power, just as well. His first objective would be Azula, for sure… her best chance to outdo him would be with Xin Long, at this stage. He would certainly outmatch the General, and however many goons he sent at him… a dragon saving the royal bloodline that had attempted to eradicate those of his kind was, Azula suspected, a most ironic twist of fate, and she couldn't even say for certain that her bloodline deserved that at all. Maybe, after all this time, the best thing would be for the Royal Family to vanish completely…

The sun was sinking in the horizon, though Azula knew it wasn't all that late yet… just then, she heard the sounds of parting waves: then, of an engine. She closed her eyes and lingered in place, unwilling to face whoever had come across her Barge… and she was quite fortunate that, even after ten minutes, the crew of whatever ship had come across hers hadn't boarded the Barge just yet.

"Guess they're waiting for reinforcements, huh…?" Azula mused, sighing as her fingers slid through Xin Long's mane. He grunted softly, letting her know that if anyone or anything appeared dangerous for her, he intended to stop at nothing to protect her. Azula only nodded quietly, aware that she lacked the strength to fight for herself at this point.

Another hour drifted by, and more sounds of engines and parting waves broke through the stillness: this time, however, a voice echoed through a megaphone, and Azula cringed at its sound.

"Surrender peacefully, in the name of the Fire Lord!"

Azula actually snorted: her ship had no actual defenses of its own. Was she being asked to put down arms she wasn't even bearing? Utterly ridiculous…

"You will be boarded shortly! Any hostilities will be answered in kind! All crew is to rise to the ship's deck and await further orders peacefully or face retribution!"

Threats and more threats, all for nothing, too: there was no crew anymore. If they intended to wait until the crew showed up, Azula guessed they'd leave her to die on deck forever… which frankly sounded like a better idea than facing her father or whoever had replaced him as Fire Lord…

After another fifteen minutes, though, the perfectly peaceful area had become a hive of activity and, more than anything, of noise. Azula flinched away from it, unwilling to face whatever would come next, but she knew by now that her ship was certainly surrounded, on all sides, by warships in her father's service. Even more than that, she could hear the massive, metal aircrafts the Mechanist had designed… they whirred up in the sky, furthering her certainty of being trapped… by her own choice and volition, but trapped, nonetheless.

She took a deep breath, then another, and then a third one before raising her head: it throbbed, ever the consequence of too many spilled tears, but she didn't flinch away from the pain as she finally dared glance at the scene unfolding around her.

Ships of all qualities, albeit most of them were full-blown warships, were stationed around her Barge: two of them had only just raised boarding ramps, and she flinched once they set them in place, bridging their vessels together before a number of firebending soldiers rushed on board, arms raised threateningly as they sought to locate any dangers on the scarcely lit deck of the Barge.

At first, the darkness made it so they could see nothing: the firebenders eventually conjured fire on their hands to confirm whether their orders had been followed or not… to find nothing on deck aside from a threatening, harsh growl, its source easily pinpointed as the dragon that lay on the metal flooring, wrapped around a most dejected and immobile Princess Azula.

"The Princess!" exclaimed one man, as the others flinched around him.

"The rest of the crew…?" asked another. "There's no one else here!"

"Is this some sort of trap?!" gasped one more, though none of them seemed to dare speak to the Princess yet.

They seemed scared… as though it weren't them wielding weapons and threats against someone else. Azula wondered if that was how their army always had acted: committing every conceivable crime against their victims while trembling in their bulky armor and boots, terrified of any sort of retaliation…

"How pathetic…" she whispered to herself, and Xin Long grunted in agreement.

The men didn't dare speak directly to her, it seemed: even now, she appeared to daunt them somehow, causing uncertainty to fester in their hearts as they stood before her. Had her father refused to inform most his people of her heinous crimes, even now? Had he been all that confident that she'd return…? The thought seemed to make her sick, and she tasted bile she forced herself to withhold just as another set of sounds reached her, from behind the group of soldiers surrounding and threatening her.

She couldn't see properly in the slowly increasing darkness, but she recognized the movement of shadows… shadows that drifted down towards the Barge, from the sky. Soldiers were dismounting the airships, then? She breathed deeply, scowling as the shapes climbing down the rope ladder descended on her ship: while some of the boarding soldiers might be unaware of the situation, she rather doubted the same could be true for the ones on the airships. The Air Force was a most exclusive, specialized branch of their armed forces, more so now that the airship factory had been rendered useless by Rhone's attack. Her father would have deployed these men personally, for sure… and they would likely have a better grasp on the circumstances than the navy's common soldiers did.

Her guess was proven correct when the first of the airship's men to step through the cluster of nervous soldiers was none other than Admiral Zhao.

Somehow, her lingering sorrow seemed to fall to the wayside now that she had been found by her nation's armies: Azula frowned heavily, glaring fiercely at the man through her likely unkempt appearance, displaying far more strength of character and resilience than she expected to for a long time.

"Princess Azula," Zhao said: he spoke with such bitterness Azula suspected he might feel just as sick as she did right now. "It was about time you turned up, I'd say. Quite the childish prank you and your men are attempting to spring upon us, if you expect this trap to ensure their survival…"

"No doubt, Admiral," she said, her faded voice lacking the bite she wished it carried. "How pitiful of me to attempt to sabotage your retrieval operation, is it not?"

"What is the meaning of this, Princess?" Zhao said, setting aside his dismissiveness quickly: Azula almost smiled upon recognizing he was just as afraid, just as nervous, as every other man aboard this vessel.

"Search this ship from stern to prow all you like," she said, simply. "I can wait until you're done. I'd say there's no traps, but I doubt you'd believe me if I did… so I suppose your men will have to discover that for themselves."

Zhao scowled, glaring at the soldiers around him: their cluelessness was apparent, and Azula confirmed through it that they knew very little about this situation, if they knew anything at all. Her father's management of information was truly laughable… if it was still him at the helm of the Fire Nation, of course.

"Search the ship. Find the crew… find her men, and bring them here at once," Zhao hissed: the soldiers offered him an affirmative response before sprinting off towards the tower, invading the Royal Barge as they saw fit. Azula made no moves to stop them. "You… you seem most comfortable with these circumstances, Azula. How elusive you've been, too… not a single patrol ship saw your Barge once you'd sailed past Fire Fountain City. We have searched for clues of your whereabouts for weeks, even… and we were near Whaletail Island by the time we were contacted and told that the Barge had been sighted in the middle of the ocean. Ran out of fuel, I take it?"

"Sadly so," Azula confirmed: there was, indeed, no moving this vessel in any direction by its own power anymore, but her complacent attitude about it only set off Zhao's fury, yet again.

"And you're perfectly pleased with that, aren't you?" he asked. Azula, despite herself, shrugged.

"I can't say anything pleases me anymore, so no, I'm not," she said, curtly.

"You… you're playing a dangerous game here. I don't know what your goal is…" Zhao said, raising a hand in her direction as Azula breathed deeply. "But you won't get away with it. You've gotten away with more than enough, as it is…"

"That's a shame. My father will certainly be most disappointed…" Azula said: Zhao's lack of reaction told her, then, that her father yet lived… yet ruled. That he had sent Zhao here, after her… "For my sole intentions, at this point, were to turn myself in."

Zhao froze, eyes wide: he couldn't believe her words, and in all fairness, Azula barely could believe she'd spoken them out loud either. The man raised a hand, bringing forth a plum of wild orange flames with which he seemed to intend to analyze her expression far more carefully than with the dim light evoked by the few soldiers that stood on deck.

"You… you're turning yourself in? Willingly?" Zhao asked, scowling prominently. Azula raised her eyebrows condescendingly.

"Do you see me fighting back?" she asked, simply. "I'm floating in the middle of nowhere, in a known patrol route, and it didn't occur to you that, of all things, I meant to be found?"

"You… that makes no sense, the only reason why you'd ever…!"

"Admiral! Admiral, sir, the tower is empty! There's no one here!"

Zhao froze again: his eyes widened as he raised his gaze to a soldier who, judging by the distance of his voice, had entered Azula's own cabin, searching across the tower hastily for any signs of soldiers or passengers, and he spoke out from the window.

"What…?" Zhao said, blinking blankly: within another moment, a soldier appeared at the bottom of the tower.

"The bridge is empty!" announced the man.

"You…" Zhao said, eyeing Azula accusingly as she lingered, stalwart, where she sat, with her menacing dragon glaring daggers at anyone who dared approach his rider with the wrong attitude. "You didn't sail this ship on your own. You had allies, the whole Third Squad escaped with you…! And him, unless he somehow died across the journey and you tossed his corpse at sea, there's no way the Gladiator isn't…!"

He fell silent suddenly, as a certain possibility sprung to mind: he scowled at Azula, yet again most accusingly, until another soldier marched out of the tower to reveal the latest suspicion that had sprung in the Admiral's mind:

"The emergency skiff is missing, Admiral Zhao!" he exclaimed.

Zhao snarled, fists tightened, as he glared at Azula again. This time, however, the nonchalance with which she regarded him was defiant… much as she ever was, by nature.

"Well, then. You didn't sail on your own, that much was a given…" Zhao hissed. "But your men have abandoned you to your fate, instead? What astonishing loyalty…"

"You could live ten times as much as you already have… you'll never come even close to understanding the depths of their loyalty," Azula said, unable to hold her tongue. "You won't find them, Admiral. They're too far away for you to reach them by now."

"They can't be on the run forever, same as you couldn't," Zhao said, scowling. "Whaletail Island will be searched, every nook and cranny, until they've all been found…"

"It won't be. Not if you intend to bring me back to my father… as I expect was your actual mission," Azula declared, breathing deeply: the unexpected calm in her behavior and countenance startled Zhao. "Call back your ships, order the patrols to return to their usual line of business. Escort me back to the Fire Nation… and I will go willingly, without protest, if you do. Send anyone out to hunt them, and I will climb on Xin Long's back right now. You'll never find me again if I do. We may even take down an airship or two on our way out, as a final parting gift… so choose carefully, Admiral. I have nothing left to lose as it is."

Zhao snarled, glaring pointedly at her: that she'd be alone on deck had been a warning sign, a bad omen, strongly speaking for itself regarding whatever unpleasant surprises they might uncover once they boarded her Barge. Yet, somehow, he didn't quite imagine she'd be so bold as to send her men away – in all likelihood, they had only left on her orders – and wait to be found by herself, all be it to threaten him out of taking action against anyone she had intended to save. Yet again, he found his old perceptions of the Princess questioned and discarded: the woman who sat before him, unkempt, with dark circles around her eyes, could never be underestimated, no matter the circumstances. He knew how capable she was… he also imagined just how fierce she could be if cornered. She was defending her lover the same way he had defended her, by killing Zhao's own gladiator… again, he wished he had never felt pity or asked for mercy for two people as dangerous as they'd proven to be.

"You're in no position to negotiate…" Zhao said, though his voice lacked conviction.

"It should be me saying those words to you," Azula whispered. "Like I said… I have nothing left to lose. I'm already a public enemy, aren't I? If so… nothing will fundamentally change if I escape now. You, however, will bear yet another stain on your record. Another mission unfulfilled. If my father wanted you to track down my men and slay them all… then feel free to lie to him and pretend you succeeded, if that will make you feel any better."

"How could I possibly…?" Zhao scoffed, shaking his head, and Azula shrugged.

"You'd know, wouldn't you?" she cut him off. "It wouldn't be the first time you execute innocents to pretend you're more competent than you are. Or would it, Admiral?"

Zhao's eyes widened under the calm, sharp glare of the Princess. Normally, he'd be able to deflect an accusation of that nature without struggling… but this time, the Princess revealed an awareness of his actions, of his and Ozai's choices, that he had never expected her to have: how had she known about what they'd done with the slaves executed for the riot? Did she have something to do with the escaped ones…? The ones that hadn't been found, in all this time?

Maybe she wasn't merely trying to sound threatening. Maybe she could indeed escape, winding up well out of their reach just as those elusive slaves had been.

"I… won't lie to the Fire Lord," Zhao said, trembling. Azula huffed, raising her head and eyeing the man derisively.

"I have a hard time believing that, but suit yourself," she said. "Made your choice yet, Admiral? I don't suppose your airship can remain airborne forever, can it?"

Zhao snarled: she truly acted as though she had lost everything. As though nothing mattered anymore. She was speaking treasonous words far more dangerous than any she had spoken before without batting an eyelash. And while he wanted to rise to her challenges, Zhao knew it was only a matter of pride… and she could easily take that pride and squeeze it dry until he lost everything, just as she had. Just as the countless people whose lives she had deliberately ruined over the past years…

"You swear… that you won't protest?" Zhao asked. "That, if I bring you to your father, you will accept your fate? You won't attempt to escape again? For, if you do… I will be perfectly entitled to break my promise if you break yours."

"Just so, if I have the slightest hint that you might break yours, I'll break mine," Azula said, curtly. "This is a negotiation: call back the troops and convey no orders to hunt them. I'll be ready to go back once you do that."

Zhao closed his eyes, letting her words sink in. For a good, long moment, he lingered in place, uncertain of what to do. By then, the soldiers tasked with searching the Barge had returned to the deck, all of them utterly perplexed by how this massive ship had as good as sailed itself for the past eleven days, going by how empty it appeared to be besides the near-empty food stocks and the Princess's own possessions. Only the skiff's absence gave away that someone else had been with the Princess at any point.

"Don't make me regret this," Zhao hissed, breathing deeply. Azula's heart soared and sank at once: if he genuinely agreed to her terms, she would ensure the safety of those she loved, at least for a little longer. But it still meant, however, that she was going back to the Fire Nation… going back to the Fire Lord who would surely refuse to be as civilized as Zhao had been just now.

He turned towards the soldiers and conveyed his orders: they were to return to their patrolling once the ships he had been sent with retrieved the Barge from Whaletail Island's waters. Azula frowned as she assimilated the information: he had likely taken as long as he had to find them because he had been traveling with warships of their navy, considerably slower than her own – and surely not pressed to travel at haste, the way her Barge had been. The news of the patrols' discovery of her Barge had likely been redirected to a control tower and to Zhao's own airship afterwards. The man had wasted no time coming here… which explained why none of these soldiers appeared to understand her circumstances in the least.

Once he was done giving orders, Zhao turned towards her anew. He cast one last glance across the metallic ship, his eyes scanning the menacing dragon, until they settled on the young woman he was wrapped around.

"You have a lot to answer for, Princess," he said, eyes narrow. "The severity of your crimes… your father won't allow them to slide without consequence. Not this time."

"I never expected otherwise," Azula confessed.

"My gladiator is dead," Zhao said, sharply. Azula breathed deeply and lowered her gaze.

"My condolences," she said, but he scoffed and shook his head.

"Save it. As long as yours lives on, everything else is irrelevant, isn't that right?" he said, harshly.

"If you hope to bait me into arguing with you, or into begging for your forgiveness, you're out of luck," Azula said, breathing deeply. "Whatever punishment you deem fitting for your gladiator's fate, I'll face it. But I fear your personal vindication doesn't supersede my father's, or does it?"

"You'll wish it did," Zhao said, frowning. "You… you have no idea what you've done, Princess. What you've unleashed."

"Perhaps not. I intend to face it all the same," Azula whispered: so long as her father's wrath was hers, and hers alone to deal with, she could withstand whatever he intended to inflict upon her. The knowledge of everyone she would protect by shielding them from Ozai this way was more than enough to keep her resolve firm, even now.

Zhao sighed: despite his better sense, he couldn't help but feel a smidge of compassion for the woman before him. No, she was no less dangerous than he knew her to be… but she certainly seemed broken in more ways than he had anticipated. He knew she might simply be manipulating his perception of her, as ever… but she appeared to have given up, regardless of her defiance of his words. In the end, he had lost a gladiator, an associate, while she had lost a man she loved beyond reason, to a point where she'd sacrifice everything she was, everything she had ever stood for, for his sake… and she had also lost the men who, in different circumstances, would have protected her until the bitter end. No doubt, it had to be by her choice that they wouldn't do so.

If just for now, this would have to do. Ozai had made it clear: bringing Azula back was the main priority. Zhao had expected more resistance, but it seemed the daughter understood the father all too well: she knew she was valuable. She intended to use that to keep her father in check, innocently believing Ozai could be roped into surrender, not knowing he had his own secrets, his own plans in motion, to ensure his daughter would surrender for good upon their very next encounter.

The patrol ships started to take off. Within a short time, a new cluster of warships appeared in the horizon: Zhao's assigned forces for this mission. They boarded the Barge, disregarding the Princess completely as Zhao informed them of the Barge's inoperative condition and how much fuel they'd need to set it in motion. Once he was done giving out commands to ensure the Barge could be sailed back to the Fire Nation, though, Zhao turned to the Princess once more:

"All is as you've asked, Princess," he said, curtly. "Now, then… will you be so kind as to stop making me waste time as you have so far?"

He gestured towards the airship: the rope ladder still dangled right above deck, and Azula's chest clenched at the thought of climbing up to the large vehicle. Xin Long grunted menacingly, but Zhao wasn't daunted by him.

"You made no conditions about traveling aboard your Barge," Zhao said, sharply. "You're coming with me, on the airship, now."

Despite not appreciating the Admiral's tone in the least – and dreading she would have to endure such tones quite often in the future, too –, Azula rose to her feet with uncertainty: Xin Long followed her example, whining softly as he aided her by offering his support. She breathed deeply and nodded at his concern, assuring him she was fine.

"It'll make no difference, at this point," she said softly to Xin Long. "I'll be okay, Xin… though I'll make sure to let you know if I'm not."

Her threat caused Zhao to frown, but he said nothing as Azula let go of her dragon and marched towards the ladder with an unusually slow gait. He followed until she stopped cold right before beginning her climb.

"Is your shoulder still ailing you?" Zhao asked.

"Not as badly anymore," Azula said, choosing not to convey that she dreaded it might pain her more persistently once she started her climb. Zhao shrugged.

"If so, go ahead," he said, simply.

Although the last thing Zhao wanted to do right now was assist someone who, as far as he could tell, had proven to be a hazard of massive proportions, he waited on deck in case her arm gave out halfway through the climb and she needed to be caught as she toppled, somehow.

It was a slow ascent, and Azula paused several times, resting her weight on her legs and right arm whenever the left pained her. But she pushed forth nonetheless, rising through the ladder until she reached the landing of the airship, and the hands of unknown soldiers reached down to aid her up… only to threaten her with bending katas or weapons as soon as she stood firmly on the vehicle's walkway, among them.

This was what awaited her, then. Being treated as a bomb waiting to blow up, a danger to everyone around herself… curious how easy it was for her father and his forces to dismiss a woman as nothing but a mindless slut until that woman fought back. She wondered how many of these soldiers knew the truth… how many had been deigned worthy of keeping her father's dirty secrets safe and sound. Did they simply hear she was dangerous, maybe? Had they missed out on the first act of her fall from grace? Surely, with a few more weeks or months, they'd hazard a guess or two regarding what had caused the Princess's downfall… but it wasn't her business whether they unraveled the truth or not. The dark destiny she had chosen awaited her, and she'd do best to prepare herself for it.

The soldiers marched her through the airship all the way to the inner deck. Zhao caught up with them by then and he gave out new orders: they would go back to the Fire Nation at full speed. Azula's heart sank as she closed her eyes, standing still on the deck, feeling her dragon taking flight, intent on pursuing the hot-air balloon to the best of his ability – though Azula dreaded that he would exhaust himself if he attempted to keep up with the machine without any breaks.

There was no turning back… there had been no chance to do so from the very start. Even so, the awareness of moving further north struck her in the chest as a cannonball might: she could no longer change her mind, change her course away from a most miserable life without him by her side. It was done, regardless of her conflicted feelings on the matter. Her plan had worked as well as it could have, and she'd do her damnedest to ensure it continued to do so in the future… her whole body seemed torn to shreds in the contradiction between knowing that this was what she needed to do and the last thing she ever hoped she'd have to.

The metal doorway that led to the outer catwalks of the airship slid closed slowly: despite knowing it would do her no good, Azula cast one last glance over her shoulder towards the dark southern ocean, glistening palely under the moonlight…

The door shut out the outside world, and with it, the last of her feeble, selfish hopes of returning to Sokka's side ever again were gone for good.

---

As much as Zuko preferred hunting, fishing could result in a much larger haul of food on lucky days, and this had been a fortunate one: Kino would likely chatter endlessly about how successful their fishing trip had been if only his mind hadn't been plagued by concern and uncertainties caused by the latest developments in the Tribe. The days when Kino kept silent rather than rambling endlessly were sparse and uncommon, but where Zuko usually was grateful for them, right now it felt like just another sign of too much change, too many unwanted events taking place in the perfectly calm and peaceful village.

"We'll split up the haul once we get home," Zuko said, glancing at Kino over his shoulder, tearing his eyes off the looming lights of the Southern Water Tribe: the former soldier nearly gasped upon being addressed before nodding rapidly.

"As you say, yes, yes…" he smiled weakly, and Zuko sighed.

"Look, I know things are tense, but there's very little we can do for the time being," he told Kino. "We'll keep providing food and whatever medicine we can scrounge up for Katara if she needs any for him, and then…"

"Zuko?"

Kino's voice tone was typically exaggerated, but Zuko took it seriously this time, without a hint of a doubt: his friend pointed at the village with a trembling gloved hand, and Zuko glanced quickly too, recognizing the lights were behaving strangely… or the shadows moving around the lights were, rather.

"Something's happened?" Kino said, softly. Zuko breathed deeply and shook his head before striding fast and long through the snow.

"Let's go. Suki will know what's going on, for sure," he said. His wife would certainly have some answers if anything had happened to Sokka: the cluster of people weren't in that area of the village, though.

Speeding up their pace, Zuko and Kino reached the wall entrance near which they'd crafted their igloos years ago. Zuko flinched as they entered the unusually noisy village, finding the groups of people were gathered closer to the center of the village… to Hakoda's home. He frowned as he scrutinized them, stepping in their direction with uncertainty… only to stop moving upon hearing the sound of laughter. Kino froze on the spot as well, no longer as apprehensive as he'd been earlier.

"They're… happy?" he asked, glancing at Zuko. He huffed and shook his head, cutting the distance between the entrance and his igloo. Kino followed, unconcerned over Mari and Gruff's likely negative reactions once he showed up at their doorstep.

The dog barked and clawed the door, as he ever did when Zuko came home. The firebender pushed the door open carefully, smiling warmly as both Gruff and Mari rushed to greet him.

"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!" Mari exclaimed, wrapping her little arms around his leg as Gruff wagged his tail and fell silent, panting happily in Zuko's direction. "The big man's gone!"

Zuko had wanted to greet Mari properly, to pat Gruff's head before kissing Suki properly upon arriving home, as he ever did… but all his intentions fled his very soul when his daughter spoke those words. Even Kino froze in place: wasn't there laughter in that crowd? How could they possible laugh if…?

"Oh, Mari! Don't say that!" Suki laughed, shaking her head as she took in the horrified expressions on Zuko and Kino's faces. "He's alive! He's fine, he's just no longer in our house, but he's okay!"

Zuko nearly toppled over upon hearing the news: sometimes it was hard to believe his daughter could speak so carelessly… for she was, indeed, a child. Most words were utterly literal to her, and she had no idea people tended to use that very same phrase to refer to death instead of simply leaving a location.

"Oh, that was so scary!" Kino squeaked, clasping his hair with his hands. "B-but then… he's okay? For real? You mean… he woke up?"

"Yeah, he did," Suki smiled, nodding positively. "Katara and Hakoda already talked with him and took him home just a while ago. We're preparing for tonight's feast… and that means you guys arrived at the perfect timing!"

"We've got a decent haul of fish here, yeah," Zuko smiled and nodded, showing his wife the catch of the day. "I'll get to skinning them now, then. Though… if Hakoda talked to him by now, does it mean he explained why the hell he was lying half-frozen on that pier? Or even just how he got here?"

"Uh… I can't say for sure," Suki said, biting her lip. "I mean, not in my presence. They might have talked some more when they left, I guess…"

"Then you still don't know what happened to him?" Kino asked, grimacing. "Did it look like he didn't want to talk about it or something…?"

"Actually? Yeah," Suki admitted: her previous enthusiasm was gone now, and Zuko's brow drew together upon her response to Kino's question. "I mean, I don't think either Katara or Hakoda wanted to push things, he'd just woken up, but… something's not entirely right with him. Beyond, of course, having a near-death experience, but…"

"But he's a gladiator," Zuko said, shrugging. "He's had no shortage of those as it is. What's one more?"

"Clearly, this is something different," Suki concluded, sighing. "And I have no idea how different, or why, either… but there were a few things that felt wrong, frankly. The way he acts, it's… it's the kind of behavior you'd expect from someone who just got sold into slavery, not someone who basically broke out of it, if that's what's happening? It may be nothing, but when Katara asked him if he wanted a haircut, he… well, he didn't exactly lash out, but he was very harsh when he refused it. I… I won't pretend I knew him all that well, it's true that I didn't, but somehow… it almost felt like it's not the same Sokka we met in the Fire Nation."

"Or the one I met in Whaletail Island?" Kino asked, grimacing. "He was such a nice guy…"

"It's not that he's not nice altogether," Suki said, shrugging. "But something bad is weighing on him. Something big."

"And nobody has the guts to ask about it, huh?" Zuko said, bitterly… and he wasn't surprised when Suki fixed him with a skeptical leer. "What?"

"You're not going to take it upon yourself to ask anything. Not today, not right now," Suki declared, pointing a finger at her husband. "Sokka's probably been through something pretty awful, and just as you were compassionate and thoughtful with me…"

"Oh, I can try to be compassionate and thoughtful with him, after I know what consequences to expect from his sudden arrival," Zuko said, shaking his head. "I don't want my sister marching into the South Pole with a retinue of soldiers just to retrieve him. It'd be an all-out battle and… and I really don't want to fight against Azula."

"It's good to know you don't," Suki said, breathing deeply. "But there's bound to be many possibilities to explain why he's here, Zuko. It doesn't have to be over something terrible that would pit you against your sister, but… oh, we can talk while we work, can't we? Come on, come on, there's no time to waste, we have to get ready for the feast…"

"I help too!" Mari exclaimed, beaming: Zuko sighed but smiled, reaching down to pat her hair.

"We'll find something for you to give us a hand with, Fire Flake," he said, kissing her brow. "Were you good while I was out?"

"Yes!"

"Well, she stole some cookies… but I'll let it slide this once," Suki said, winking at her daughter who blushed and smiled guiltily.

Zuko and Kino set down their fishing gear, and Kino got to work quickly by selecting the better fish for the feast: Mari didn't appear eager to help him, but as he was quieter than usual, she sat beside him and tucked the fish in the proper baskets while Zuko stepped closer to Suki, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.

"Would've greeted you properly when I arrived, but being told he was gone as soon as I made it through the door was… a little disconcerting," he said, with a tight-lipped grin. Suki chuckled, kissing his lips fully now.

"It's okay, dear. Welcome home," she pressed her brow to his gently, before encouraging him to get started with the slow, long work of preparing dishes for their upcoming shared meal with the rest of the Tribe.

Kino didn't often cook with their family, namely because of Mari's typical displeasure with him, but the child seemed to know better than to complain much about his presence today: they worked together while talking about Sokka's circumstances, and Suki attempted to retell everything she witnessed as best she could while Mari occasionally interjected with innocent comments, as well as to accuse Gruff of eating the cookie she had dropped when Sokka startled her. As tense as matters continued to be, Zuko and Kino's stress decreased gradually as they took in every bit of news and information Suki offered them regarding Sokka's awakening.

They stepped out of the igloo together once their dishes were ready, with Zi strapped neatly to Zuko's chest while Suki held Mari's hand. Kino and Zuko carried most the food among themselves as their group stepped towards the center of the village, where a powerful fire had been started by the early arrivals for the feast. Occasionally, people would sit out some of these tribal meals if they were suffering from any health conditions, if they were exhausted after a long hunt or too engrossed in a personal project to take even a short break. Today, however, the whole village appeared to have attended the feast: Zuko couldn't remember such high spirits in the Tribe since his wedding to Suki, not even after their greatly celebrated return from Whaletail Island.

The guest of honor had yet to show up when they arrived: Suki managed to find them spots to sit at near Hakoda's usual place, as Zuko and Kino turned in the food they'd brought to the tribe's members organizing the feast. Afterwards, all of them sat together, waiting mostly silently as the rest of the villagers around them discussed the latest events: Zuko overheard a small, friendly spat between three families who were adamant about having cooked Sokka's favorite meal, set on outdoing each other's culinary talents.

It should have felt right… it should have been amusing, even. Why, though, couldn't Zuko shake off the feeling that something about Sokka's sudden, inexplicable return was absolutely wrong? Was it simply because he had been the one to find him, half-frozen? Or was it because, out of everyone here, nobody else worried over what this meant for Azula as much as he did…?

A rumor of excited noise arose suddenly, and the villagers soon joined together in a full applause with no shortage of cheering, directed towards Hakoda's igloo: Katara and Aang had just exited it, and right behind them stood Sokka, with his grandmother holding onto his arm tightly. Hakoda closed the group – Zuko had never seen the Chief as fulfilled and blissful as he appeared to be right now. His own, personal misgivings only worsened after that sight: would Hakoda be ready to accept that perhaps Sokka's return wouldn't be permanent, or that maybe his son hadn't come back for the right reasons…?

Still, it was a relief to see Sokka moving, walking and even smiling at Kanna with such familiarity Zuko nearly forgot he had never seen Sokka with his whole family until now. Hakoda clapped his son's back and grinned brightly at the villagers: some sprung to their feet, hoping for a word with the Chief's son, delaying the start of the feast, excited to greet Sokka directly.

One of many who stepped up to talk to Sokka was Yuro: Kanna smiled, taking Hakoda's arm instead of Sokka's when the youngest of Sokka's warriors stopped right before him, his once bright and youthful eyes clouded with tears of relief upon seeing his hero once again.

"Yuro…" Sokka said, turning his smile to the young warrior who had idolized him the most… the young warrior who had been a nervous teenager, and who now stood with a mature strength he had lacked when Sokka last saw him.

"I… I'm so…" Yuro gasped, struggling to contain the tears as he gazed at Sokka in amazement. "You're really back. It's really you, Sokka…"

"I can barely believe I recognized you, Yuro," Sokka chuckled softly, reaching a hand to clasp his shoulder. "You were a kid the last time I saw you. You're a fully-grown man now, aren't you?"

"I've tried, I… I've done my best to follow your example in many ways, but I… I missed you so much, Sokka," Yuro sobbed, breaking at last as he wrapped his arms around Sokka's body, pressing his face to the blue parka that barely fit him nowadays.

"It's okay, Yuro… I missed you too," Sokka spoke softly, patting the young man's back with gentle motions. Yuro had always been a sensitive young man, more than most the others… and he had faced terrible tragedies of his own in Sokka's absence, too.

Sokka raised his gaze over Yuro's head to find a young woman standing nearby: he scarcely had known her in the past, but he identified her as Siku instantly, more than anything because of the warm, heartfelt gaze she kept upon Yuro. They were much too young to have faced the hardships they had, Sokka knew… he tightened his grip around Yuro slightly, breathing sharply, wishing to be half as strong as those two had been. How had they kept going? How had they continued to live their lives, moving forward while carrying the memory of their lost child with them, while constantly pondering what might have been if only the universe had been kinder, if their baby had survived…?

"I… hell, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be crying, I…" Yuro sniffed, pulling away to dab at his eyes quickly. Despite himself, Sokka offered him a watery smile.

"If that's how it is, guess I must have ruined everyone's mood the whole day and nobody's given me grief for it," he said, patting Yuro's head gently. "It's okay to cry, Yuro. Don't worry about it."

Despite Sokka's compassionate words, Yuro forced a smile and wiped his eyes fully as he bowed his head gently towards Sokka. He motioned to Siku to join him, and the young woman stepped forward nervously, walking delicately over the snow.

"You… may have heard we were married two years ago?" Yuro said, softly. Sokka smiled fondly and nodded, raising a hand to Siku's shoulder too.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here to see it," he said. "I sure hope the tribe went all out that day, too…"

"Oh, they did, though I think they're even more excited today…" Siku said, smiling gently too. "Welcome home, Sokka."

Once again, Sokka had to smile graciously and nod, pretend his heart wasn't breaking over the very notion of having returned home… when his current home had sailed away from him merely a day ago.

"Aha! The man of the hour!" exclaimed another male voice now, older and more mature than Yuro's: Nanuk stepped forward, clapping Sokka's shoulder with enthusiasm. "Look at you, you're taller than me now!"

"I was already taller than you the last time we met…" Sokka pointed out, amused, as Nanuk lashed out in laughter.

"And even then, you couldn't persuade me to let you own a pup, huh? You do remember, eh, when you were but a little tyke…!"

"I had a whole litter following me about the Tribe, yes…" Sokka smiled, as Nanuk wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"Always such a great leader, even when you weren't supposed to be!" he grinned. "Ah, it's good to see you again, my boy. It's been too long since this Tribe's seen the kind of good-natured trouble you always stirred up around these parts…"

"I'm pretty sure other people more than made up for that," Sokka smiled, letting his eyes wander towards the group of foreigners, readying themselves for the feast.

His sister and Aang were taking their seats by now, and not far from them sat their closest friends, who stood out like sore thumbs amid the rest of the Tribe, despite having a place among them all the same. How strange to think that they fit in perfectly in his Tribe while he ached with emptiness that screamed he didn't belong here… that this whole feast was so much more than someone like him could ever deserve.

He recognized Kino fairly easily, and Suki's hair color, like her oldest daughter's, was unique in the whole Tribe. But he hadn't realized Zuko's body had been angled away from him until he turned again towards his wife…

The left side of his face didn't come into visibility immediately, and a flash of Ozai's face seemed to replace Zuko's for a split second in Sokka's mind.

He flinched immediately, lowering his gaze on impulse, a surge of fear and rage mixing inside him by sheer instinct… misplaced instinct, too. He raised his gaze once more… and he found that scar in place. There was no facial hair, either… and the expression on Zuko's face, kind and placid as he spoke to his eldest daughter, had surely never graced the face of the accursed Fire Lord, utterly incapable of genuine love and affection, of caring for anything but his own wretched ambitions, ideologies and goals.

"Sokka…?"

Yuro, Siku and Nanuk had still been nearby, as well as others who had stepped up afterwards. Sokka swallowed hard, paling under their scrutiny before offering them a forced smile.

"I'm sorry, just… I probably need some food. Got dizzy there for a second," he lied, unsure if he'd spoken with enough naturality to mislead anyone.

"Oh, we can talk with you some more later, of course we can!" Nanuk grinned, helping him towards the seat of honor, right by Hakoda's side…

Sokka slowed to a halt moments before reaching the spot he was supposed to take for the feast: it only dawned on him then that, barring the outdoors meals held on his birthdays, there had never been any reason for him to sit there, to be the guest of honor in any of these celebrations. He swallowed hard: once again, it didn't feel right. Once again, he found his whole soul resisting the notion that his return ought to be celebrated… and once again, his heart warred against his soul when the bright smiles of each tribe member ushered him to join his father at the head of the feast. Maybe this was wrong… but it would be wrong to disappoint them just as well.

Hakoda grinned too once Sokka reached him: a moderate applause rang around the fire again, as the father and son bowed gratefully towards them, with Hakoda clasping Sokka's hand.

"My brothers, my sisters…" Hakoda grinned brightly, raising Sokka's hand above their heads. "My son has returned to us!"

A much louder cheer rose now, and Sokka's eyes burned with tears… for that applause sent him back to a whole other world, a whole other life, where he had stepped out into a golden ring to fight for someone's sake… his chest tightened as Hakoda lowered his hand, and once he released Sokka from his hold, he took his seat while the Chief continued to address the rest of the tribe, still on his feet.

"For many years, we've waited and prayed for Sokka's wellbeing and safety," Hakoda spoke with candor, and Sokka's ongoing pain worsened for it. "Even at the lowest points, there was always a tiny speck of hope that Sokka would return to us someday. That he would overcome his challenges through the true mettle of a Water Tribesman. Not anyone could have survived the hardships he faced… yet Sokka did. My son, who I'm deeply proud of."

Hakoda smiled, waving a hand in Sokka's direction: he sat with slouched shoulders, but he raised his head upon realizing Hakoda had gestured at him.

"There's so much we can say, but… but there will be sufficient time for that later, I'm sure," Hakoda said, softly. "For now, all that's left for me to say is… welcome home, my son."

Sokka held Hakoda's gaze as the Tribe launched in all-out applause again: no one seemed to clap as excitedly as Katara, who wiped her tears awkwardly whenever she stopped clapping. No doubt, she had looked forward to this moment for as long as she had known Sokka had survived the battle in the settlement…

Yet Sokka should have offered his father enthusiasm equal to the one Hakoda displayed instead of the gaze of a lost cub. Hakoda didn't fail to notice it, but he continued to smile as he took his seat.

The feasting began promptly after the Chief's speech: Kanna, at Hakoda's other side, nudged him to hand Sokka one of the dishes she had prepared for him.

"They're all going to demand he eats theirs, he'd better make sure to have some of his Gran-Gran's sea prune stew first of all," Kanna declared, smiling cleverly. Hakoda chuckled and nodded, handing a bowl of stew to his son, who clasped it carefully.

"Eat slowly, alright?" Hakoda said, as kindly as ever.

"I'll do my best," Sokka nodded: by Sokka's other side, however, Haka was passing him another dish already, grinning proudly as he told Sokka his mother had prepared it especially for him.

"Oh, to think there were days when the whole Tribe trembled whenever Sokka was hungry…" Katara recounted with amusement, and Aang chuckled beside her. Her family smiled too at the memory, though Sokka namely offered her a grin with raised eyebrows. "I'm not kidding, you know? He could have ten sets of meals for lunch and still ask what was for dinner…"

"And eat dinner, too," Kanna pointed out, prompting the others to laugh as well.

"I'm just saying, it's no chance he ended up being taller than the rest of us," Katara said, shrugging. "All those years of eating everything he could find, and now look at that, the whole Tribe's eager to feed him. Things have come full circle, huh?"

Oh, they had in more ways than Katara knew, Sokka thought… in many more ways than he dared speak aloud just yet. He couldn't even tell his sister that she was right, though: more and more Tribespeople stepped up to him, offering their dishes, wishing him good health and welcoming him home, one by one. It hurt to deflect their kindness with smiles that weren't heartfelt, but he couldn't think of anything else to do when his chest seemed to split open every time their words appeared to indirectly suggest that this was where he had to be… that this was where he belonged. That this was his life… that it would be from this day onwards.

It was almost as though everything else had been a dream… as though it had happened to someone else. He could barely breathe at that thought, but then that dreadful pain in his heart reminded him that all of it had been real, and he was almost grateful to the agony for that.

He ate slowly, sampling each dish, unsure that he'd be able to stomach more than two mouthfuls of each Water Tribe delicacy brought to him. The food was great, nostalgic even… but even that brought thoughts to mind that he wanted to block away, however possible. He had told her they'd find good seasoning somehow, so she could have meals to suit her tastes, and her response, the response that filled him with unfounded hope, was that she didn't need the seasoning… she didn't need those spices if she could be with him.

She should have been. Curses, she should have been. Had she allowed herself to be a little more selfish… it could be her and all her guards here with Sokka and his people, celebrating their survival and looking forward to the future. If only he had known all along that the Avatar was here, maybe he could have persuaded…

"Sokka."

His father's voice broke him out of his thoughts, and Sokka nearly jumped upon hearing him calling his name: he had stopped moving with a bowl in his hands, without tasting the five-flavor soup that Tarkik's family had offered for him. Hakoda's gaze was kind, as it had been ever since Sokka regained consciousness: it seemed he had waited to speak to Sokka quietly during the feast once everyone else was busy chatting and eating their own meals.

"I-I'm fine, just… I spaced out for a moment," Sokka said, knowing he wouldn't cover up successfully for anything by saying those words.

"It's okay, Sokka," Hakoda said, reaching out to clasp Sokka's hand gently in his own. "Take your time. It's better if you don't rush through the meal anyway."

"Yeah… it should be," Sokka nodded, glancing at Hakoda with guilty unease. Hakoda breathed deeply, squeezing Sokka's fingers gently. "I… I'm sorry. I know I'm not… not acting the way you or everyone expected me to…"

"That's not something to apologize for," Hakoda smiled kindly. "I much prefer it if you're true to yourself, son."

"That's the thing, I… I'm nothing like what you remembered of your son," Sokka said, gritting his teeth. "I don't really act like I used to either, so…"

"You've been through hardships I can barely imagine, so yes, you've changed," Hakoda said, nodding gently. "We have all changed in many ways. Our circumstances have certainly shaped us, whether for good or ill, it makes no matter. But this tribe wouldn't be what it is if we forced each other to suit our personal ideals just because it would make reality more palatable, now, would it?"

"I… I guess not," Sokka whispered, the knot in his throat tightening.

"I love you, Sokka, no matter what your experiences may shape you into," Hakoda smiled, kindly. "You are my son. And even if you don't understand it, or even if you reject it… the truth is I'm proud of you."

"Proud?" Sokka repeated, his tearful eyes finding Hakoda's again. "I… how have I ever made you proud, when all of this started because I messed up? Dad…"

"Because you messed up?" Hakoda said, his smile waning. "Back when you launched that attack on the settlement, you mean?"

"If… if I'd listened to you, none of you would've been through so much pain when you thought I was dead," Sokka said, gritting his teeth. "And maybe… maybe a lot of things would be different. Maybe…"

Maybe he wouldn't have met her at all. She wouldn't have ever seen the world differently… she would have simply become her father's perfect puppet, scared of her true self, rejecting kindness, fearing she would never be loved. How to regret helping her find a path different from that one? Yet that different path had brought them here… it had brought them to the worst of heartbreaks. If given another chance, would he listen to his father? Would he do as Hakoda had told him…?

"Oh, Sokka…" Hakoda whispered, shaking his head with a heartfelt smile. "Where you could have taken your men to their deaths, you sacrificed yourself to save their lives. Look at them now: Yuro, Kattan, Haka… they're all fully grown men, strong like you were, ready to defend their tribe, understanding the cost of defeat far better than they did until that day. How could a man like me even consider scolding you… when there were countless men I couldn't save? When I failed to protect those I treasured? I don't know, son, whether I was right or wrong about telling you not to attack that day… but I do know you proved to be ten times the leader I could have ever hoped to be on the very first time destiny dared challenge you. Maybe it isn't what you wish to hear, but I truly am proud of you, my son. If anything… it should be me, instead, who should try harder, much harder, to make you proud of having me for a father, eh?"

"No, no, you… you're the best father there ever was, what are you even talking about?" Sokka said, shaking his head quickly as Hakoda chuckled softly.

"If I'm a great father at all, that can only be determined by the children I raised, right?" he said. "You and your sister… you have meant the world to me, Sokka. You have grown into splendid adults: being your father has been the greatest of all honors. But if I'm to be worthy of the title you bestow upon me… I only know how to be a good father by giving you space when you need it. By being understanding, even when I'm not expected to be. I, too, made terrible mistakes when I was your age, I made many of them when I was older than you are now, too… and never could I hope to amend them as you did throughout the years you've been away from us. I don't know the full story myself, only what Katara shared with me after she found you last year… but you protected your own, faced consequences you never deserved to, and you still had the strength and cleverness to fight for us even when we weren't aware of it. If you thought I'd be angry… I'm not quite sorry to say I can't be, Sokka. You achieved things I could only dream of… yet what matters the most to me, son, is that I missed you. I wanted nothing but to see you, to talk to you again. I've been blessed with that opportunity now, so… I'll make the most of it while I can, on your terms, of course."

"My terms…?" Sokka repeated, lowering his gaze.

"I am your father… and fathers are quite irritating when they're nosey and meddlesome," Hakoda smiled. "So I'll be quiet if you'd rather I stop being so mushy. All I want right now, though, is for you to know and understand that you're loved, Sokka. You always have been, no matter how long and difficult your road back to us may have been."

Sokka gazed at Hakoda again: the sincerity and clarity in his father's eyes conveyed that unconditional love perfectly. He had missed him and had hoped deeply that he'd come home one day. He had been prepared, perhaps, for countless terrible scenarios where Sokka either died before reaching them or chose not to return at all… so even this opportunity to share a meal with him was more than enough for Hakoda. Being with Sokka was enough… being his father was enough.

If only Sokka could have simply rejoiced in that knowledge… if only he could have thrown his arms around his father and cried of relief. If only that constantly growing pit of guilt in his gut wouldn't continue to grow with every kind word anyone sent his way… did he truly deserve any of this? Would the unconditional love outlast his explanations, once he gave them? Would everyone look at him with that same glowing admiration once they understood…?

Perhaps they would. Perhaps they wouldn't consider him a traitor, like Katara had said in Whaletail Island. It was entirely possible that his people would be a thousand times more understanding and agreeable than he had feared they'd be. His guilt wouldn't recede for it, however… a small part of it over shame for doubting his tribe as he had for years. A much greater part, however, obeyed wholly different motives…

More than anything, it pained him to hear Hakoda speaking with such affection when he knew Azula was returning to a father who would never say words like these to her.

Not for the first time, he wished they could swap places. That she could be here, healing and taking in a new, peaceful and loving life, while he faced off against Ozai on his own. That she could be safe with people who would appreciate her and learn to love her while Sokka fought against the monster that intended to destroy her… yet that wasn't the case. He was here, safe and sound, with people who might not resent him even after understanding the true nature of his relationship with the Fire Nation's Crown Princess… while she marched with her head held high into danger, with no one left to stand between her and Ozai, no one to shield her from the misery he would no doubt inflict upon her once his daughter was within reach once again…

It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. She deserved the words Hakoda had spoken to him. She deserved a father who could accept her for who she was, who could be patient, who could be kind… not a thrice-damned bastard who thought inflicting pain on his children was his prerogative, who believed he had the right to control her every choice in life, who would destroy her very soul if that was the only way to make her submit…

Hakoda didn't speak this time, but he couldn't ignore the way a shadow of grief crossed his son's visage. Whether he had misspoken, or whether Sokka's demons were far more complicated than he could understand, he didn't know. Impulsively, he wanted to reach out to wrap his son in a hug, but as Sokka slouched, grimacing as though someone had stabbed his stomach and twisted the dagger, he held back, his hand trembling as he stopped it from reaching Sokka.

"Sokka…" he called him softly, worriedly, despite himself: his son flinched, rubbing his eyes quickly with the back of his gloved hands.

"I… I'm sorry," Sokka said, shaking his head. "I… I'm glad you feel that way, Dad. I am, it's just… it's too many things. I… I think I need a moment."

"It's okay," Hakoda said, clenching his jaw with uncertainty. "Take all the time you need, son."

Sokka lingered on his seat, eyes closed, waiting for the flare of panic inside his chest to subside. Focusing on his environment, on the sensations around him, did nothing to help his aching mind: the scent of the great meals before him could not tempt him, and the icy breeze surrounding them only seemed to take root in his chest and spread across his heart, reminding him that he would never share any of this with her. That he had spent his life attempting to grow stronger so he could protect those he loved, even accepting the darkest parts of his soul in order to do so… only to find himself annulled, useless, foregone when the one he loved needed him most. How could anyone be proud of him? How could he ever feel worthy of their admiration when he was as good as an empty husk…?

"I… I can't," he blurted out breathlessly, surprising Hakoda. "I… I need to step away for a bit. I'm sorry, I… I'll be back. I just…"

"It's… it's alright, son," Hakoda swallowed hard: Sokka slid away from his seat, crouching in the snow for moments before rising to his feet.

He strode off, kicking specks of white, leaving deep footprints in his wake: his whole body trembled, his head spinning with the worst self-deprecating thoughts he had ever known, and he had been plagued by dark thoughts countless times through his life.

He couldn't do this. He couldn't sit there and pretend everything was okay… he couldn't play along and act as though he were worthy of this celebration. Even if his tribespeople somehow continued to believe he was worthy once they knew the full truth, he didn't expect he'd ever agree… not until she was safe. Not until he could do something, anything, to help her. But what the blazes could he do, stuck in the South Pole again as he was? The life and dreams he had longed to make a reality were out of reach right after they had been closer than ever, after experiencing them for four years, after shaping the world alongside the most extraordinary person he had ever known…

He stumbled past one of the tribe's entrances, slowing right past the opening in the wall. He took a deep breath, then another… then he sank, knees-first, in the snow, lacking the strength to stand tall anymore.

Fool that he had been, he had lost himself to grief, nearly freezing alive when she had sailed away… she would be furious if she knew what he'd done. If Zuko hadn't showed up when he did, Sokka might have truly died, frozen solid… and then Azula's fight to keep him alive would have gone to waste completely. Even when it came to such things, he had failed her… he had failed to uphold his vow from countless years ago, when she had begged him not to be so ready to discard his life anymore:

"I don't know what it will take to stop you from being ready to discard your life so easily.… I don't know what you need to hear so you can understand your existence matters. But if everything you've affected in the world ever since we joined forces can't convince you… then the love you pledge to me might be what will do the trick. Because… I need you."

She needed him. She had told him so, directly, on a dark night when he had nearly frozen to death as well. She needed him now, more than ever, and he couldn't reach her. He might never have a chance to reach her, ever again…

Muffled footsteps on the snow behind him alerted him that he was no longer alone. His shoulders shook as he choked down a sob, dabbing at his eyes again, struggling to regain his composure before whoever had come after him could see him crying. Word would certainly spread across the Tribe eventually regarding how delicate and frail his emotional state was… but not today, he hoped. Not just yet, even if he knew that the longer he delayed explaining the whole truth, the worse things would get…

"You okay?"

He had heard that voice a lot more recently than those of most warriors and tribespeople: he was almost relieved to know Zuko had been the one to follow him. He surely expected nothing from him… he certainly didn't admire him. It would be so much easier, Sokka hoped, to talk to him than to most everyone else…

"Just… needed some air," Sokka said, his hoarse voice giving away his tears. Zuko, however, didn't seem to give that factor much importance.

"Well, as long as you don't drop on the snow to wind up half-frozen again, I guess you can get all the air you want," Zuko said. "But I'll probably stick around in case you decide to do exactly that, if you don't mind. Can't say it was particularly fun dragging you across the tundra while it was snowing, so…"

"I'm sorry," Sokka said: Zuko frowned upon realizing, immediately, that Sokka had never directed those words to him before this day. "I… didn't mean for that to happen."

"Uh… I never thought you would have meant for it to happen, but alright," Zuko responded, puzzled deeply by Sokka's word choice… by his lack of clarification regarding whatever he was sorry for, too. "It's just a good thing I got to you when I did, I guess. Everyone here would've been pretty pissed if… well, if you'd frozen to death, no point trying to sugarcoat it. And I… I don't think my sister would've been fine with it either."

Sokka flinched: Zuko's eyes narrowed. Discerning whatever was happening in Sokka's troubled soul would prove no easy matter… but that instinctive, impulsive reaction when Azula was mentioned spoke for itself: she had something to do with this. For better or for worse, Sokka's return had an explanation behind it… and it certainly involved her.

"Look, I get if something bad is going on, something you're not ready to talk about yet," Zuko said, breathing deeply. "But the thing is… this is a really weird way to visit your family, if that's all it is. Something tells me it's not."

Sokka's figure seemed to shrink in the snow as he lowered his head further. Zuko breathed deeply, choosing, despite himself, to step forward. He had kept an eye on Sokka cautiously through the meal, and he hadn't been too surprised to see him stepping away from the feast without warning. Katara's pleasant mood had shifted into concern right away, and she had taken to questioning her father about Sokka's sudden departure while Kanna looked utterly perplexed by it, too. Zuko hadn't wanted to sit around waiting for everyone to decide whether or not they'd stop dancing around the important questions anytime soon, though: Suki hadn't encouraged him to follow Sokka, but she hadn't stopped him either. He only hoped he wouldn't regret that decision now… but they needed answers that only Sokka himself could provide.

"Why have you come back?" Zuko asked, point-blank. "And what does it mean for the Tribe… for your family, and mine?"

He slowed to a halt merely a few steps away from Sokka. He waited in silence, impatiently, uncertain if Sokka would dare answer his questions or not. It was taking him every ounce of willpower to hold back from pulling Sokka up forcefully, to yell in his face much as Sokka had once done to him, to ask if his wife and daughters, if his closest friends, were in any danger because of him…

Just as he was about to cave in to that violent impulse, though, Sokka's voice rang in the darkness anew.

"I didn't want to come back."

Zuko froze in place at the sudden, blunt confession. At the words he knew nobody within the village's enclosure would want to hear. Sokka had dared admit them to him… perhaps because he was an outsider? Did he think Zuko would understand? If so, he had been sorely mistaken… for Zuko could never imagine genuinely wanting to be anywhere but in the village that had become a home to him over the past years.

"I can't… can't tell them that, though, can I?" Sokka continued, with slouched shoulders. "It's not like… like I never wanted to return, of course I did. I wanted… I wanted to see my father again. To hug my grandmother, my sister… to see all the boys I tried to raise into becoming strong warriors, making lives for themselves and forging their own paths. I… I did want that. How could I not want it? But… n-not on these terms, damn it. Not this way. Not because there was no choice. Not when I can't… when I can't accept their kindness properly, because they'll be so disappointed once they know that all I really want is… t-to be right beside her, no matter what."

Zuko's stomach lurched at all of Sokka's words: he had never seen the goofy, careless yet strong and daunting gladiator acting this way. He had always seemed someone who could figure out how to navigate whatever life threw at him, and Zuko had subconsciously assumed that was the entire reason why he had always handled himself so well in the Fire Nation. Yet he had returned to the stability and familiarity of the Southern Water Tribe and confessed to wanting nothing other than returning to the Fire Nation? No… to Azula, in particular.

"Why… why aren't you with her, then?" Zuko asked, his voice shaking now – he wasn't sure he truly wanted to hear the answer to that question.

"Because I…" Sokka started, but again his heart seemed to break so powerfully he could barely utter another word: he nearly crouched upon himself again, shrinking into a ball, but the pain wouldn't recede if he did that.

Instead, he snarled furiously, tears blinking in the corners of his eyes before they dropped on the snow: he struck out a fist, slamming it hard into the blanket of soft whiteness, wishing it had been ice instead. Maybe physical pain would chase away the one that dwelled in his chest… maybe he could have answered Zuko more easily that way.

But who was he kidding, at this point in time? There was no point in lying, nothing worth denying… no, not when she had spoken the truth proudly, defying a merciless man with no regard for her wellbeing, all be it to save Sokka's life. If she could do that… how could he be quite so weak as to fail to speak the truth now?

He rose to his feet slowly, breathing deeply, letting the cold air slap against his face: more muffled footsteps approached. Well, it was better to have an audience: everyone ought to know the truth. They would all find out in due time regardless of what he did, anyway… why not cut to the chase? Why delay the inevitable, allowing them to imagine a thousand explanations that might run opposite to reality?

He turned around, and his tearful eyes turned to Zuko: to the burned face of a man who resembled the one Sokka despised more than anything in this world. With trembling fists, while focusing only on the uneasy scowl Zuko had fixed him with, ignoring the many new arrivals, Sokka held his head high, no matter if his whole body shook with unbridled emotion as his secrets finally spilled out.

"Because he found out the truth," Sokka finally said, with a thread of a voice at first, but with more power, conviction and fury right afterwards: "Because your damn father learned the truth about me and Azula."

Zuko's lips parted, but he couldn't utter a single word. It was his turn to fail to find an answer, a way to respond to Sokka's confession… but perhaps it wouldn't be up to him to speak out about it.

"W-what's… what's that supposed to mean?" Katara said, breathlessly. Sokka clenched his fists, closing his eyes tightly as she stepped closer to him, close enough to clasp his strong arms with her own shivering hands. "Sokka… what did you just say?"

"I said…" Sokka spoke through gritted teeth, with harshness intended to steel himself, and not to push away his sister: "That the fucking Fire Lord found out about us. About me and… about me and Azula."

"H-how…? What do you…?" Katara said, eyes shifting recklessly from side to side. Behind her, Aang called her softly.

"Katara, maybe… maybe give him some space?" the Avatar suggested, but his words went ignored.

"You're back with us," Katara shook her head, fingers clenching tighter. "How would you ever be back with us if he found out… whatever he found out? If… if you were with her in whatever way you were, if he didn't like it, wouldn't he have…?"

"Killed me?" Sokka finished for Katara, who flinched at his interruption. "He sure as hell tried."

Katara's grip on Sokka loosened up: all the wounds she had healed upon his body suddenly gained a new, terrifying meaning. The silent, bottled-up fury, the unexpectedly rash reactions, the bluntness… they made more sense now, for sure, and yet…

"You two weren't…" Katara said, shaking her head. "You and her, you… you both knew he was a monster. The Fire Lord… Zuko said, ages ago, that you two couldn't have an actual relationship because it would be too risky. Because…"

"Because she'd know better?" Sokka asked, with a humorless laugh. "Because she… because she should've been ambitious, smart, capable of thinking with a clear head, not swayed by emotions she should have never felt for someone like me?"

"I… I didn't mean it that way, Sokka…"

"Well, you should mean it that way!" Sokka nearly shouted now: the sudden despair in his eyes took every onlooker aback. "Because I…! I shouldn't, I told her to not regret a damn thing, but I sure as hell regret that…! I regret I… I couldn't do it in any other way. I should've found another way to show her she could be loved… I should've found another way to make her happy. Anything else… anything to prevent this damn nightmare. I should've been more careful. I should've been less impulsive. I should've known better! But I didn't! I… I needed her just as much as she needed me. I still… I still need her, more than I can even explain. B-but if she'd never needed me… I'd never have doomed her. I wouldn't have… I wouldn't have caused her all this damn grief, all this hell wouldn't be happening at all, and she'd be safe! But instead, she's…"

He couldn't handle the onslaught of emotion anymore as tears broke past his eyelids, rushing down without respite. He stumbled back in the snow, as good as losing his footing, unstable in every sense. Katara raised a hand, as though to help him, but she held back, despite herself.

"Instead she's going… to face him all by herself. By herself, while I'm here… while I can't do anything to help her. She… she brought me here, damn it, so I could live on," Sokka sobbed, shaking his head. "As though I could just… as though I could just sit here, grow old and pretend none of it ever happened? As though I could just play the fool, and ignore every memory that breaks me whenever thoughts of her come to mind? As though I could resist the urge… t-to just find a ship of my own and sail to find her, no matter if it'll kill me? As though I deserved to be at peace, to live out the rest of my days carelessly, while she's tortured by her own damn father?!"

Heavy breathing shook him now, as he leaned forward: the hole in his chest only grew larger as he spoke. The pain got worse and worse, as though he were summoning every broken promise, every wishful hope that would never come true anymore. As though the agony that plagued his heart hemorrhaged out of his system in a torrent he could no longer put a stop to… a torrent he almost wished would put a permanent end to the misery he knew he'd have to endure for however long he had left to live.

It wasn't Zuko or Katara who stepped forward this time: despite Aang had spoken, Sokka hadn't even processed that he stood there too. He hadn't paid any mind to others who had arrived with him and Katara as well: Hakoda, despite his willingness to be patient with Sokka, had decided to follow him after asking the rest of the Tribe to continue eating while they spoke to Sokka. Yet it wasn't him, either, who stepped up now:

"Sokka…" Suki called him, softly, and he flinched upon hearing her voice. "I… I'm sorry. You… you don't deserve this, neither of you did. The Fire Lord, he's… he's just a true monster, no matter how anyone looks at it. What… what did he do to you? And to her? Why is she going back, if…? If she could've just stayed with us too? I'm sorry if you thought maybe she wouldn't be fine here, but… we could've helped. We would have, if…"

Sokka shook his head, unable to contain another onslaught of tears as Suki brought up one of countless reasons why his heart had shattered irremediably. If only he had convinced her. If only…

"She… thought she could shield us all," Sokka finally said, gritting his teeth. "That if she went back… turned herself in, that piece of shit would take out all his wrath on her and leave the rest of us alone. I… I didn't want to let her do it. I tried to stop her, to convince her to come with me, to live with me, to stay here…! But… but she was right to say the Fire Lord would've just sent all his damn troops at once if she never returned. He would've… would've decimated the Tribe if that's what it took to find her. Still… the truth is he might still try, no matter if she returned now. He wanted me dead… he might stop at nothing to make sure the job is done. S-so my being here… I'm a warning to you all. I'm here… to help you fight back if they do come. To let the Tribe know… that I might have doomed you all, when my crimes should be my own and I should pay for them myself."

"They're not crimes," Suki said, firmly, stepping closer. "That you loved her isn't a crime, Sokka…"

"That I killed my own executioner probably is," Sokka blurted out, bitterly: by now, everyone listening to him froze cold, staring at him in disbelief. "That I… escaped, when he wanted to burn me alive with his own wretched hands, probably is one in his eyes, too. I don't regret surviving… I don't regret escaping. But none of you deserve to face consequences for actions that weren't yours. For… for a relationship that only belonged to us. And even then, it… it should've been me. It should've all been me, not… not her. Never her…"

Suki swallowed hard, resisting the urge to reach for Sokka: she could recognize his behavior, his turmoil, the despair that tore gashes across his battered soul. She had experienced a similar pain in many ways, long ago… a kind of pain that caused someone to shield themselves, to retreat instinctively, to fear instead of trusting. A pain that could even lead someone to think death was preferrable to the nightmare they had been forced to live through…

"You… have to be ready. All of you," Sokka said, gritting his teeth. "I don't know when they'll arrive. Maybe they'll take their time, but maybe they won't. Maybe… maybe they'll send a hundred ships to find me. They'll definitely try to kill me. They probably won't stop there. I… should've told you all from the start. Shouldn't have just… played along, I know I shouldn't have, but I just… I couldn't find it in me to say it. I couldn't… I just…"

"Why… why were you lying there, in the snow?"

Katara's voice rose again, for the first time since Sokka's biggest reaction so far. There was pain in her eyes… pain Sokka had never wanted to inflict upon her. Pain… and fear.

"You've… you've just said this is all the Fire Lord's doing. That he's why you were hurt, that she brought you back here herself?" Katara said, frowning heavily. "Why, then…? Why were you nearly dead when Zuko found you? If it's not her doing… if it wasn't whoever brought you here who beat you up that way, why the hell didn't you just come back to us, to the tribe? Why didn't you, Sokka?!"

She had finally asked the worst possible question… and Sokka closed his eyes, failing to retain the tears as he relived that moment in time, the last glimpse of his Princess, crying aboard that large ship, watching him in utter heartbreak as he lingered behind and she sailed away from him. Why…?

"Because all I wanted was to go back to her," he answered, truthfully: Katara's tears spilled as well now as she gasped, in sheer horror and chagrin… in betrayal, Sokka suspected. So be it. At least this way she'd know the truth of who her brother had become. "Because she sailed away… and I stood there, begging them to turn that ship around so she could come back to me. Because… because once I realized I'd never see her again, I… I couldn't even think properly. I couldn't see the sense in… in going anywhere. In doing a damn thing. What is the point… the point of living on if I'm living without her? Even now, with every damn memory of her, I just… I just want to die when I realize I won't see her again."

Katara shook her head, stepping back until she collided with her father: Hakoda caught her shoulders, leaning close to whisper soft words to his daughter. Her eyes widened, and she shook powerfully in her father's hands as Hakoda released her from his hold. Sokka watched it happen, trembling just as much, the burning tears spilling down his cheeks: in the past days he had wept more than he remembered crying throughout his whole life. How he wished he could stop the pain… to stop inflicting any of it upon others, too…

"Son…" Hakoda called him, and Sokka flinched again, shivering painfully before shaking his head.

"You can't be proud of me," he said, immediately. "You… you shouldn't be proud of me. This isn't… it isn't the man I want to be. It isn't the man you deserve to call your son. I… I wanted to be better, to be stronger when I saw you again. I wanted to be worthy… but I'm not. I can't even imagine I could be, when… when I can't protect those I love. I'm the one who should be… who should be protecting others, not the other way around, damn it, and instead, I… instead, she's…"

Hakoda breathed deeply, nodding gently at Sokka's words… at frustrations that he understood all too well, far better than his son seemed to realize he did.

"I don't deserve to live out my whole life freely when she can't do the same thing," Sokka said, shaking his head rapidly. "I don't… I don't deserve a father who loves me for real, when hers might fucking kill her for all I know…! I…! I can't let it happen, damn it, I can't…!"

He nearly crumpled on the snow, but Hakoda caught him, pulling him strongly into an embrace he held tightly. For the second time, Sokka seemed to come undone in tears in his father's arms, but this time, Hakoda understood his son's heart better than before.

"She… is certainly brave, and very strong," Hakoda said: Sokka shuddered in his arms, clinging to Hakoda with desperation. "Much stronger than I can imagine… perhaps much stronger than either you or I ever could be, huh? To… to face that monster of a man by herself and help us as best she can by returning you to us, so you could tell us what the Fire Lord might attempt to unleash upon us… it's nothing short of heroic. I'm sorry she had no other choice… I'm sorry if she believed we might not accept her here. I won't lie and pretend everyone would have been welcoming… but I would have gladly gotten to know her, to understand why she's become so precious to you, Sokka, and to help you protect her as best I could."

Sokka's tears were inevitable, overpowering as he clung to his father, scarcely strong enough to stand up anymore. Hakoda held him firmly, though, refusing to let him fall… offering him what little stability he still could when his son's whole world seemed to have fallen to pieces.

"I'm sorry, my boy…" Hakoda whispered, rubbing his back comfortingly. "I'm sorry. You deserve better, like Suki said… both of you did. It… it will hurt, son, for a long time. For all your life, most likely… grief never truly goes away. We just learn… to live with it, as best we can, because… because others need us. Because our pain… it can overtake us, but we still have reasons to live. Maybe we think… maybe we think we are worthless. But in the end, as long as a single person needs you alive… it's possible that one day we'll grow to learn that life, as difficult, and devastating, and painful as it may be, is still worth living."

The words dawned heavily on the tearful Sokka, who knew Hakoda spoke them for his benefit… just as he knew that he spoke them from experience.

Was that why he had returned from the war? Sokka had asked him many times… he had demanded for explanations that Hakoda had offered half-heartedly. The comet had rendered every effort of rebellion futile, and no force remained strong enough to overcome the might of the wretched Fire Lord, not unless every front stood together to fight back. So why had he returned…?

Because his children still lived. Because he still had a family… because he had lost his wife, and later his best friend, to the Fire Nation and he could have lost so much more still if he had kept going. He could cause no end of sorrow to the two children he would have left behind, orphaned, if he'd been another war casualty just the same.

Was that what he was supposed to do, then? To let go of Azula… just as Hakoda had to let go of Kya? To forsake the memories of every friend he'd made, of everyone who had ever counted on him, just as Hakoda had to forsake a dying Bato when he sacrificed himself to ensure the rest of the warriors could escape a losing battle? How on earth had Hakoda ever learned to live with that kind of grief? How…? Sokka's conviction that his father was a stalwart man, strong in ways he barely understood, only increased now: he couldn't do it. He couldn't let go. He had no idea how… he had no idea how.

"I can't…" he blurted out, through gritted, chattering teeth. "I can't live on… I can't move on. I can't go back to this life… I don't know how. I don't deserve to, I…"

"You deserve every good thing in this world, Sokka… no matter if you don't think you do," Hakoda said, and Sokka shivered painfully.

Those words… he had spoken similar ones to Azula, without ever realizing they were words he had heard someplace else before. Had Hakoda spoken them to him…? To Katara? Perhaps even to Kya, at some point…? He shivered at the realization, at words he had internalized without his awareness… words he had used on someone else who had been plagued with feelings of inadequacy, much like his own. Feelings that Hakoda wasn't unfamiliar with, either, even if Sokka had never even suspected his father, so strong and larger-than-life, could ever believe himself a failure on any levels.

His father understood. Even if he didn't know yet why Azula meant so much to Sokka, he understood Sokka's grief, for he had experienced pain of that nature himself. In all these years of striving to become a man like his father… perhaps they had always been more similar than Sokka, in all his admiration and idolizing of Hakoda, had ever realized they were.

"I know, son… I know it hurts. It's alright to hurt," Hakoda whispered. "When something you love is broken, it's only human to cry. To grieve, and to want nothing but to change the past, to rewrite the stars themselves, if that's what it takes… so don't force yourself to heal and to live a life you're not ready for. Let it out… let yourself feel it. Losing love is… it's devastating. But it was love, for certain. You were loved… and you loved with all your heart, just as well. That's something you should never regret, my son. That's something to treasure for as long as you live. For it means your life was valuable for someone… and sometimes that's the only reason why you can carry on, even if that person is gone for good."

Again, it rang so true to Hakoda's tragedies… and Sokka could only wonder if his own father had ever been tempted by death after finding Kya's lifeless body in their igloo. If maybe he had shielded him and Katara from the very worst of his grief somehow… if his attempt to fight in the war had been but an impulsive way to release his frustrations and sorrows, to achieve something of value in this world before joining Kya once again. His love for his wife had brought him no end of sorrow after her demise, but perhaps it had also convinced him to live on even if giving up on life could have been easier…

Hakoda didn't ask Sokka to cling to them. He didn't ask him to live for him, for his sister, for his grandmother, for the countless tribespeople who saw in him a hero. He didn't tell Sokka they needed him too, just as much as Azula might: he knew those words would sit ill with a man who had been forced to say goodbye too soon to the love of his life. He knew that sorrow was selfish, and that selfishness itself could only be human… just so, he knew that the very memories that tormented Sokka were the best means to keep him going. That reminding him of how important he had been to Azula might be the key to convince Sokka to live on… to endure life, as miserable as it might be, until he could finally rejoin her, whether while living or in death, whether in this life or the next. Just as he, himself, waited to find Kya's soul once more, when his own time came.

There were still so many answers he hadn't given. There was so much he needed to explain… so many tribespeople he had disappointed on that day, so many more he'd likely disappoint in the future as well. The cheerful kindness he had been received by might be replaced by unease and distrust over the bond he had shared with the one who should have been his worst enemy, and who instead had become the brightest star that had guided his path. Her light, to which she herself was blind, had glowed upon him, changing his world for the better… how could he ever explain it to his people? How would it ever sit right with them? Perhaps it never would, perhaps nothing he did would ever help mend the rift he had known would shatter his world, his very soul into a thousand fragments… for he was the only one who could put the pieces together again, and he couldn't find the strength to do so.

But he had owed them the truth… and he still did, in many ways. Maybe one day, he'd be able to speak without breaking. Maybe he'd find it in him to share his past, and help them understand him… but for now, that Hakoda understood was enough. That Suki empathized with him was enough, too. Maybe others would feel similarly… maybe others would despise him, instead. Still… he wouldn't live a lie. He wouldn't put on a brave face and pretend he was any man but the one he had become over the last years.

For no matter what had happened in the past month, the truth was that his heart belonged to Azula and she had sailed away with it in the darkness of the pole's eternal night. Even now, clinging to his father for the support he direly lacked, his chest still could swell with pride: time and distance wouldn't change the truth he intended to live by, the truth that had filled him with strength in the years in which their partnership had thrived and strengthened: even after his final, dying breath faded from this world, he would always be Princess Azula's Gladiator.