Chapter 14: Tables Turning (Part 1)

The next day...

The limited rays of the sun danced on his face as he was pulled aside, his advisor tugging at his arm while the arriving council members settled down. Zuko noted his advisor's worried expression growing as the rumblings from the seated men reverberated through the room, gaining in volume by every passing moment.

"What's wrong Zion?"

"It's bad," he answered, his head dipped with worry-filled eyes, "General Fang was found murdered this morning in his office."

The Firelord's own eyes widened as his pulse quickened; Zuko didn't like the General, and he certainly wasn't a fan of his blatant attempt at stealing his position as the leader of the Fire Nation, but regardless, he didn't wish death upon him. Now, it made sense: why his council had arrived early and were already murmuring amongst each other despite the yet to be announced commencement of the meeting. The news was disturbing indeed, however, the true consequences of this unexpected event hadn't fully registered in Zuko's already troubled mind, that is until Councilman Zion continued speaking.

"I don't know much, but from what I could gather from others, some of them suspect you, my Lord."

"W-What?" Dumbfounded, Zuko glanced at his advisor for a moment - when he found confirmation in Zion's distraught yet determined eyes, his own heat seeking, amber orbs drifted towards his council. They'd tortured him for years, practically controlling all policies and regulations currently being mandated and vetoing any Zuko introduced that didn't benefit their pockets or threatened their profits. Despite all that, Zuko still hoped he could win them over, given time. Now, with their betrayal lurking just a few minutes away, he was beginning to question his motive and deliverance to offer them mercy, to not put them beneath his heels when he had the chance - he felt like a fool for not acting more like… like his father… or better yet, like Aang.

"It's mere gossip and speculation, nothing but rumours as it only occurred this morning. Yet, they've all participated in heavy conversation prior to this meeting, and I have a feeling they're planning to remove you from the throne regardless of who will be seated on it afterwards - and they'll use their speculations to draw links with your recent behaviour to do so."

Still shocked by the rather unpleasant and soul-breaking turn of events, All Zuko could do was ask questions, rather than give directions, "They – but why?"

"Councilman Fang has been poaching them for weeks, and I'm afraid that even after his death, his influence clouds their judgement. Unless someone who they've pledged their faith into stands for you, I'm afraid this may be the end of your reign, my Lord."

Zuko ran his hands down his face, exhaling heavily in annoyance and exasperation as he pondered on his next move. "Do we have leverage over any of them?"

Councilman Zion shook his head, "No. Unfortunately we do not. At least, nothing too damaging that would sway them to support you."

"And did my individual discussions with them benefit me in any way?" Zuko had taken his uncle's advice yesterday and had spent the remainder of his afternoon and evening appeasing several members of his council; those loyal to him - though few in numbers - only reassured him, and those who he attempted to convince merely met him half-way or outright denied him.

"Those who are loyal to you will remain so, I believe. The rest, however, I can not say for certain, but we may have lost them," Zion answered regretfully.

The fact that Zuko's own council had once again outnumbered him into a corner had left the Firelord panicking. The people who supported him would continue to do so, however, they wouldn't be enough. He also didn't have enough time to sway any of them, and nor did the influential members such as General Azir owe Zuko any favors that they'd side with him. In actuality, the Firelord was certain General Azir would be his strongest opponent; General Fang was a close friend of his from the war.

'There is one person who might be able to help,' Zuko remembered, his eyes unfocused while his mind calculated the best advancement. 'If I threaten to reveal his secret and tell everyone he was lying about spending the night about Azula… no, if I do that, he'll just admit that he really was with Katara the entire night and only lied to save me the embarrassment. I'll just look like a fool. I need a different approach.' The subject of his thoughts entered the room, seemingly somewhat distracted as he unknowingly bumped into a General, didn't apologise, and took the seat closest to Zuko's, even though it wasn't assigned to him. 'I need to threaten to reveal his real identity,' Zuko decided, eyeing the Avatar who simply stared absentmindedly at the table while he took his seat at the head of the war table. 'Or, at least, I need to raise my suspicion about him being Amon. I don't have proof, but I have enough 'coincidences' to at least question his integrity. And, this is something he would expect me to do; if the blame's on me, he'd expect me to shift it towards him, since he knows that I know he's guilty. So technically, I won't be revealing the fact that uncle's onto him, and I won't be compromising my position either as he's been taunting me with the idea of being Amon for weeks now.'

Clearing his throat, Zuko gestured for the remaining members to also be seated as he commenced the meeting. As the men settled, the Firelord scanned the room, his amber eyes surveying for one person in particular… who hadn't arrived yet. 'Where's Toph?' He asked himself, wondering whether he should stall for a few more minutes or simply get started without her. The Firelord surveyed the room once more, studying the cold and annoyed expressions of his Councilmen and Generals. 'If I make them wait, I might irritate them even more and they'll come at me even harder.'

"Let's begin," he announced, receiving everyone's undivided attention as their heads turned to face in his direction. "So, before we begin a vote of any sorts, if the Council isn't already aware, I am gravely saddened to inform everyone that General Fang was found murdered earlier today." He felt a few eyes staring him down calculatingly, others in disbelief, and the rest with scrutiny. "My condolences go out to General Fang's loved ones…" – 'if he even had any,' – "it indeed is a dark, unfortunate turn of events – "

"Fortunate for you, it seems," grumbled a General.

"You have something to contribute, General Azir?" Zuko asked pointedly, forcing himself to remain calm and neutral as he regarded the accomplished yet corrupt man.

"Now that General Fang's dead, you probably think the vote won't happen, since no one in this Council has expressed their desire to remove you from the throne," the man gritted out, arms crossed, and eyes narrowed in scrutiny. "Well, you have it wrong, Firelord; General Fang's demise doesn't constitute the disapproval or canceling of this vote. By the end of this day, you will not leave this room as the Firelord."

"And why are you adamant on removing me from my birthright?"

"Surely you can't be that clueless?" Another besides Azir hollered.

"General Fang was murdered… right after he opposed you. That doesn't seem suspicious to you?" Another councilman asked.

"Fang challenges you and dies several hours later. Do you expect us to believe that's just a coincidence, Firelord?"

"We're not blind; we clearly see that you felt threatened, and therefore, you murdered the General when the opportunity presented itself."

Zuko clutched onto the arm rests of his chair while his toes curled curled in agitation. 'These fucking hypocrites! They're accusing me of murder when they've done far worse. AND I'm innocent!'

"Please, let's calm ourselves," councilman Zion urged, gesturing and pleading with the council to behave while their voices overlapped and grew in volume due to his protests.

"You're just a power-hungry murderer, desperately clinging to a throne and mantle that you cannot live up to!"

A barrage of insults and accusations were Zuko's destiny at that moment, and as every horrible accusation and insult reverberated in his head, it seemed that burning the entire room down was to be his not-so-distant future.

"You never deserved to be the Firelord!"

"Incompetent!"

"You're not fit to lead the nation!"

"Passive!"

"You're not worthy of that royal pin!"

"Soft!"

"Enough!" The Avatar's voice silenced all, roaring at a pitch and depth that even made Zuko tremble somewhat, in surprise of course. He spoke again, much calmer, though his voice was still low and tired, "You are all grown men, right?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course, we are!" General Azir smugly answered, though, his smile faltered when he became the latest victim of the Avatar's rare deadly glare.

"Then fucking act like it," he commanded lowly, gesturing towards Zuko as he kept his eyes on the remaining council members. "We have a murderer on the loose, and you're all too busy throwing tantrums like children to see that Firelord Zuko was not responsible for General Fang's death."

Confusion dawned on him as he stared at Aang, analysing the side of his face he could see due to the limited early morning lighting, trying to determine whether this was just another move he was making or if he was being genuine – 'probably the former rather than the latter,' Zuko thought.

"What evidence do you have to suggest such a thing?" General Azir asked, baffled.

"I could ask you the same, what evidence do you have to accuse Zuko of anything, let alone murder?"

"He has motive and opportunity," answered one of the other members - Councilman Taisa, 'he's Azir's negotiator, and he usually remains quiet during these meetings,' Zuko noted. "General Fang challenged our Firelord for the throne, and judging by the events transpiring so far, Firelord Zuko must've been aware of the facts that he wasn't the favourable vote - hence why he attempted to gain our support after yesterday's meeting. Therefore, after being refused by many of us, he saw no other alternative than assassinating General Fang. Furthermore, General Fang's security detail was reported missing fifteen minutes prior to the supposed attack last night. Fang's assistant informed us that their routine had been altered. And, apart from Fang's trusted advisors, the Firelord is the only one who can alter the rotation of the Capitol City's guards."

"You make a few valid points," Aang relented, thus alarming Zuko for a moment before he continued defending him. "However, you have overlooked a few factors. Firstly, there's the obvious one: we have a terrorist in the Fire Nation whom we know has been murdering criminals, officials and even men within this council. Amon promised - in several letters and movers - that unless Zuko bows and steps aside, a man would die every day. So far, a death has been reported each day since his initial threat. So, what's stopping Amon from targeting General Fang?"

"But it doesn't fit the pattern," councilman Taisa challenged. "Every single life Amon has taken has been through his katana, save for the southern indian smugglers we found. Yet, General Fang was murdered by the means of suffocation; forensics only needed to analyse the glove imprints and reddening of the deceased's neck to conclude it." General Azir smiled wolfishly, thinking the Avatar's argument was destroyed and in doing so, they had successfully driven Zuko off the throne. "How do you respond to that, Avatar Aang?"

"What is Amon's goal?" Aang countered. When no one responded, he answered for them, "To force the Firelord into abandoning the throne, correct?" Everyone nodded hesitantly in agreement before the Avatar continued making his case, "And we're already aware of the fact that Amon has someone within this palace feeding him information, right?" Again, they nodded. "So, try to think like Amon for a second – see the situation from his perspective." Zuko's eyebrows raised of their own accord when Aang turned to face him completely, his grey eyes bare to him as he stared him down. "I'm Amon," he announced, smirking when Zuko's eyes widened in shock until he added, "…hypothetically."

The Firelord let out a deep breath as he growled, it seemed that the Avatar was still playing mind games while also defending him – 'is there no limit to his madness?'

"My goal is to destroy Zuko's rule, and the publics' and his council's perception of him," Aang continued, his eyes unwavering as they remained glued to Zuko's. "I've already terrorised the Capitol, and from my inside source, I know his Council is fed up with how he's handling the situation." Zuko felt his anger flaring within him; Aang was stupidly smirking at him with his eyes – it was a glint of mirthfulness that glimmered when Aang didn't want to completely give himself and his enjoyment up, something he'd grown to recognise throughout the years. "And after recent events, my source has informed me that Zuko's council is ready to turn; voting the next day to remove him from office. I'm informed that someone has altered Capital City's rotation of guards… or maybe I've done it myself, either through my connections, threats, or bribery of officials. Nevertheless, I see an opportunity present itself to me: the man who challenged my enemy is unaware of the fact that all his defences have been torn down. Now, being the conniving mastermind I am, I hypothesise: what would happen if said General was to meet his unfortunate demise. Considering the circumstances; the man threatened the Firelord and likely upset him, thus, if I kill him by way of strangulation, the suspicion doesn't fall on me, and due to the timing, all the blame and doubt falls onto…" he pointed at the Firelord as he tore his eyes away from his amber gaze, regarding the room with his stone grey eyes as he spoke, "…Zuko. He was framed. Forced to be perceived as opportunistic and power-hungry, and naturally, this in turn would further convince his council to remove his title and position as the Firelord. And therefore, without much effort and risk, I've achieved my ultimate goal."

The room fell silent. Not a soul confined within that small area knew how to respond or combat the Avatar's hypothetical, which sounded more probable than Zuko ordering an assassination. If he hadn't been mentally tortured by the airbender for weeks now, the Firelord would've commended him with pride, showering him with praise - but that wasn't their life anymore. Though, the shock on his face was as apparent and noticeable as his scar. The members of the council seemed just as baffled, having no planned or spontaneous argument to the Avatar's reasoning.

"Respectfully, that's quite a reach, Avatar Aang," Councilman Taisa replied.

"What's more likely: Zuko going rogue and ordering the killing of one of his own, thus breaking the public oath he made when he became Firelord, or the one man who has outsmarted us and has been ten steps ahead of everyone this entire time saw an opportunity, considered this council's mentality, predicted your hasty and preconceived reactions, factored everything into the equation, and made the decision to murder the General – staging it to make it seem like Zuko was responsible?"

"Not to mention, nothing about General Fang's death indicates to the idea that it was a spontaneous, last minute decision our Firelord could've made," Councilman Zion offered, feeling the need to defend Zuko alongside the Avatar. "The timing of it all; the rotation of the guards, the murder happening the exact day before Fang anticipated to overthrow our Firelord… it all indicates to a preconceived, well-planned operation."

"Well spoken," councilman Taisa relented with a sigh, discovering he had no argument's remaining in his arsenal to contradict theirs. He refused to meet General Azir's eyes, knowing the glare he'd receive - and everything afterwards - as he'd disappointed him greatly – dreading the repercussions as he sank in his seat. "I yield"

Aang's eyes surfed across the room once more, challenging anyone else to step up, "Does anyone else have any reservations?"

"You've made your point Avatar Aang," relented General Azir, "Firelord Zuko likely didn't murder General Fang, we're prepared to believe that notion. However, I think I speak for the rest of the council when I say that Fang's death has nothing to do with the Firelord's incompetence or lack of ability to lead. Therefore, the vote we decided on yesterday is still valid and will occur by the end of the day."

"Very well," Zuko reluctantly agreed, leaning back on his seat as he spoke, "Let's discuss."

Meanwhile...

Amon grinned as the entrance of the cave came into view, 'Finally, some real fun. I have been itching to kick some ass for four fucking years now,' the phantom thought.

The Fire Nation wasn't as corrupt as the Earth Kingdom during the war, if it all, considering they followed their leader blindly without refute. However, the case was different with Zuko. Ozai led with a solid hand wrapped around the entire Nation's throat; the only thriving colonies were those that directly affected the efforts of the war, sights of interest, or the Capital Cities, where the wealthy and families of royalty and class resided. When he was dethroned, those same men allowed their insatiable greed to influence their decisions, and due to Zuko's much more passive rule, those same men enabled the lowlifes to start their own underground businesses – illegal possession, processing and distribution of drugs and weaponry became their main source of income. Thus, gangs such as the Underground came into fruition. And now, Amon was targeting another: The Ember Island Devils. Though Ember Island was regarded as a simple holiday destination for royalty, when acres of land were bought after the war by the wealthy, it didn't take long for them to discover a sea of pure opium growing within the fire poppies glittered in the backyards of the purchased properties.

Identifying the opportunity, the wealthy sought out the poor - the desperate - as their primary source of labour, convincing them to process, manufacture and distribute shipments of narcotics out into open waters towards a blind spot within the international patrol's radar. There, Earth Kingdom buyers would collect the shipment and transfer the payment. In seemingly no time at all, The Ember Island Devils grew in numbers; desperate individuals who hadn't a slice of bread to consume for weeks got roped into the intricacies of the underworld. Along with the gain in labour force arrived a boost in confidence - The Ember Island Devils began targeting their own, offering free samples to innocent children trying to enjoy an afternoon out with their friends, providing stressed-out, middle-class businessmen a temporary escape and relief. Once they were hooked to the poison, the prices for opium would radically increase and before they knew it, the poor souls had bargained their life away for a temporary relief, and now were indebted to The Ember Island Devils. And the cycle continued until almost all were slaving for them.

They were a rather small coalition to be fair, when compared to the Underground at least, who tripled their numbers and earnings. Yet, they were still a menace to society – not that this Amon cared though. The command was simple: 'incapacitate any who stand in your way but don't kill them, and try not to firebend. The only fatal blow delivered will be against their leader: Nez the Ratviper. Him, and him alone.'

It was annoying, but there was no room for error, nor disappointment – not now, the endgame was approaching, and if Amon played the game with a precise hand, victory was certain.

'Alright, no killing, besides their leader – let's do this.'

The entrance of the cave was found amidst the rocky shores of an abandoned beach. The entrance and exit were the same: a narrow passage aligned by rocky, earth-walls, and the entrance itself was open - the absence of a door likely meant the Devils had an earthbender among their ranks, someone who could raise and seal the production facility at their convenience. There were two individuals guarding the entrance of the cave, standing idly by as they conversed. They didn't seem particularly well fed; ribs distinctly visible, legs and arms seemingly alike skinny tree branches. 'Why would they appoint these weaklings to guard their only major production facility on the Island?' Amon smirked smugly, 'Idiots.'

Since the entrance of the cave was revealed through a narrow passage, only an earthbender could breach it without being seen via going underground, therefore: 'Guess I'll have to take a more forward approach.' Amon turned the corner, thus entering the narrow passage that led to the entrance, and in doing so, came into the two guards' field of vision. Alerted, they sprang to action, standing dominantly tall and intimidatingly straight – 'so unlike their actual body types.'

"You can't be here! Leave now!" One hollered – Amon remained silent. "Did you hear me freak?! I said – "

"Rue, I think it's that clown: Amon..." whispered the other one, cutting his partner off as a sudden pang of fear was evident on his face - only a moment before it passed onto indifference. "You know, the one who's been after the Firelord in the Capitol."

"Who gives a fuck?!" The taller of the two brushed it off, "You're not supposed to be here! And if you don't fuck off in the next ten seconds, you'll be leaving as a carcass!"

They awaited a response only to receive a demon-like, red smile… and they had their answer.

"I was hoping you'd say that," the taller of the two, who Amon now knew to be names Rue, cracked his knuckles as he began walking towards him, "guarding this place is so boring since we bribe those coppers regularly, and the cockroaches that live on this spirit-forsaken island are too pussy and weak to revolt. I've been itching for a fight for a while now, hopefully you'll give me a good one."

They began charging at Amon without hesitation, the taller of the two leading the charge and the shorter one right behind him. Amon's grin widened as she too began running towards the two. 'This will probably be over quickly, but I'll try to make it last.'

Amon, knowing attacking the taller 6 foot 7' man head on was reckless, decided to target the other one who was behind him. They both were twigs, but they seemed capable of holding their own in a fight. Still, the phantom thought herself to be much more agile and capable. Strategizing, Amon noted that leaping over the man ahead and incapacitating his partner first was the best course of action. So, smirking, Amon leapt from wall to wall – since it was a narrow passage, there wasn't much of a gap between the cave walls, this allowed a person to gain altitude from climbing by jumping off of the parallel walls in quick succession. Amon thought the manoeuvre to be effective, until the man who was supposed to be directly behind Rue suddenly appeared above him. Since the larger man was ahead, Amon had no sight of the shorter individual and thus couldn't calculate his positioning. And apparently, the shorter man had the same idea as the ghost-faced demon; he too had leapt from wall to wall through the passage except in quicker succession. In doing so, he had gained the dominant position, and while in mid-air, he extended his leg and jabbed it into the clown's mid-section. The force behind the attack launched the Amon back to her original position.

'Okay, that was unexpected – maybe I'm a little rusty.'

Amon had no time to further analyse the situation as Rue was suddenly above her; the phantom struggled to get to her feet but they wrestled each other to the ground. Due to his seemingly deprived state, despite being much shorter than Rue, Amon was the stronger of the two, so the phantom easily overpowered the taller man onto his back… unaware that it was exactly what the criminal wanted. Grinning, he lifted his leg so that it hung by Amon's shoulder, before gripping onto his right arm and pulling it within the closed space. Rue's other leg was then wrapped around the back of Amon's head, and both his hands were pulling Amon's head down while his legs began squeezing the life out of the phantom.

While in the dragon-triangle choke hold, Amon attempted to get up but was starting to lose consciousness as the blood circulation towards her head was being restricted due to the tight choke hold. 'Fuck! I underestimated them; I shouldn't have relied on power alone. And no wonder they're so confident – they're probably submission specialists.' Being the scrawny man he was, the dragon-triangle choke Rue held Amon in was even more tortuous than a regular triangle choke hold as Rue's rock-like bones were protruding and pressing into Amon's scalp.

Searching for openings to break the hold, Amon used the narrow passage to escape; the phantom planted a hand firmly on the ground and kicked off against the wall beside her. Using the momentum, Amon flipped over and while in mid-air, the ghost-faced demon slipped out of the submission hold. Gasping for breath, Amon stood to her feet and ventured further backwards to her original position, now feeling the grains of sand known to the abandoned beach beneath her boots.

"So, you do have some fight in you," Rue cheered, grinning as his partner stood beside him, ready to continue their fight. "Well, clown-face… let's dance."

Despite being upset that she was bested, Azula - underneath Amon's war-paint - grinned as she launched herself towards them again, mind hazed by the fog of battle, heart searching the sweetness of victory, and hands aching for a pound of flesh.

Meanwhile...

She groaned as she rushed outside; navigating the corridors of this massive Palace had always been a pain in the ass, and a certain Watertribe warrior yelling at the top of his lungs while chasing after her was only making her headache worse. Toph had successfully avoided Sokka for the entirety of yesterday, choosing to spend her time helping the Amon investigation team as a Republic City Police Department Consultant. Sokka had tried to reach her a few times when their paths naturally caused, as he was leading officer in the Amon case, yet she still managed to brush him off completely; giving him one worded answers, and even downright ignoring him on the rare occasion they had to work together.

She didn't know when she started acting like an airbender, doing anything and everything she could to avoid the problem rather than face it head on like her base self, but she had been operating with that mindset for years now, in regard to Sokka at least. Therefore, it'd become a bad habit, an infinity loop; he'd want to talk and she wouldn't, he'd approach her and she'd race off, he'd chase after her and she'd keep running. The few times where there was no way to escape, like the engagement party two days ago, she'd suppress everything and climb into her shell. Those were the intricacies of their dance in the past two to four years. She hated the fact that she couldn't face him, however, deep down, she knew she wouldn't be facing just him. Rather, she'd be facing herself; the ugliness she was convinced lurked within. Toph knew she wasn't perfect, even though she'd forced the entire world to believe it. Toph understood she had faults, and she always strived to perfect herself, to be a better person. She had her flaws, and she knew she was beautiful either way – that's how Sokka, Aang, Katara and Su– that's how they'd described her. And that's how she saw herself, flawed, and beautiful for it… but from where did the ugliness grow? And why hadn't anyone else seen it? Or if they had, why did they refuse to scold her for it? Why offer her false reassurances like Sokka? Or tell her that she's imagining things? Or overthinking? Why couldn't they just be honest with her so she could be honest with herself and fix this horrible, disgusting feeling inside her that –

"Toph! Stop! J-Just wait a minute!" She wavered for a moment, just now realising she was too lost in her own inner struggle and had been walking around aimlessly when instead she should've been participating in the council meeting Zuko had invited her to. "I just…" he panted, "I just want to talk."

"I don't have time to talk Sokka," Toph gritted out, using her seismic sense to search for the room where Aang and Zuko were present, as that's likely where the meeting was occurring. "I need to find the war room. I've still got a killer headache and have been wanting to punch a hole into someone's head since yesterday, and you chasing after me isn't helping. So, for your own sake - or your head's - I suggest you leave me the fuck alone."

"I'll show you where the room is," he started immediately. Although Toph was hesitant at first, she relented and was about to accept his offer, but he quickly added in a stipulation before she could find a way to continue avoiding him. "But along the way, you have to talk to me," Sokka demanded, and knowing Toph would just resort to one worded answers like she had they day before - during the investigation - he elaborated further, "and by 'talk', I don't mean 'yes', or 'no', or 'fine', or any other bullshit one-worded answers like that. You actually have to talk to me."

She mulled it over for a second, reluctant but desperate, 'I'm really not in the mood, but I do need to get to that meeting, Zuko seemed adamant on me being there. And I guess I can handle Sokka for a few seconds… I mean, how long would it take? Really?'

"Fine," she grumbled hesitantly, gesturing for him to lead the way.

He nodded as he turned back around and began walking, "Let's go."

They turned a corner together as they traversed through the maze that was the Royal Palace. Awkward silence fell upon them; even though he was the one who wanted to strike conversation, he didn't know how to begin. The tension between them had been brewing for years, and Sokka feared that if he said the wrong thing, they'd never come around to repairing their friendship… or whatever this thing between them was now.

His eyes befell upon her when they turned another corner and he opened his mouth, ready to talk yet instead it remained open as he observed her beauty. Toph always had a tomboy vibe about her when she was younger, and she retained it in her early adult years, except now, it didn't seem off or odd for a girl to have such an attitude. In fact, for him and many other men, her attitude only made her sexier; the grown woman in her highlighted through her never-say-die attitude and smartass personality, and therefore, her already erotic figure became all the more enticing. She still held her hair up in a bun but had removed the bangs – her beauty on full display. She was still much more masculine and had a fine toned body due to her extensive earthbending training, however, like Katara, Toph had matured into a fine woman; her curves and smoothness becoming the catalyst of the wet dreams for many men, and women – not that she cared what people thought of her, not physically at least.

Toph was still Toph: headstrong, sharp-tongued, well-respected (and feared), fierce, and loved.

If only she could see that. If only he could help her see that.

"Toph, why are we like this?" He asked, after swallowing to moisturise the dryness that had enveloped his mouth while he 'observed' her, to no avail. "I mean, we used to be such great friends," he led her to turn another corner, "why can't we be that again?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, feigning nonchalance and ignorance. "I'm fine with us being friends," she lied.

"Then why do you keep running from me?"

"I'm not," she lied again, stretching her arms out as if to say 'I'm walking right beside you idiot, do you see me running?' "I'm right here."

"You're here, physically," he stated adamantly, "but you're not here. You're distant, emotionally and for most of the time, even physically."

The earthbender steeled herself as she pursed her lips while offering a vague response, "I'm a busy woman."

The denial was so obvious that Sokka didn't deem it necessary to challenge, so he opted for another tactic. "Look, I'm… I'm sorry about all that happened between us – "

"So am I," she interrupted, strengthening her voice to sound firmer, more sure of herself so he wouldn't be able to identify the falsehoods within - the pain, the guilt; ugliness. "I regret everything. All of it, I admit that."

Sokka assessed her for a moment, taking a while to let her statement, the tone she delivered it in, and the way her expression shifted from nonchalance to determination in a second before he responded. "Do you… do you really mean that? Like... you regret everything?"

"I don't regret our friendship and what it used to be, if that's what you're asking," she answered, willing herself to remain unwavering. "But we've made a mess of things, and I know we used to make fun of the bullshit that went on with Aang, Katara and Zuko, but if we're honest, we're no better than them." 'We're worse,' she thought to herself, but didn't voice it as they turned another corner and descended down a rather long hallway.

"I guess… I guess I can see your point," he relented, "we did end up complicating everything between us. But I don't want us to be estranged from each other anymore."

'Neither do I,' Toph silently agreed. Though, her words were entirely different, "We're not estranged… we're just… not around each other anymore?"

"And whose fault is that?"

Despite herself, the master earthbender felt her eyes threatening to bulge out of their eye sockets as she raised her voice in anger, "Are you saying its all my fault?!" She challenged, "If you can't remember because of your idiotic brain meathead, then I'll have you know that you did it too… it wasn't just me!"

"Yes! But you're the one who's constantly running away from me!"

"Well what do you expect me to do!" She erupted, halting in the middle of the hallway as she faced him. "If I don't want to talk to you, then I'm not going to! It's as simple as that!"

"Why, though?!" The Watertribe warrior asked desperately, "Why do you want to stay away from me? Do you hate me? Am I… am I and the things I've done repulsive to you?"

'Not nearly as sickening as my own,' she stated in her head.

"No… it's - its not that Sokka," she stuttered.

"Then what is it?"

"I… I just -", Toph stopped herself from continuing further as she crossed her arms and side. "Look, I'm still not ready to talk about this yet. So, can we please just drop it?"

"Fine," he allowed a small, sad smile to shine through despite the tense conversation, "but… you'll have to do something in return for me."

Grumbling, the earthbender once again nodded. "Fine, what is it?"

His smile widened, "You have to be my friend again."

'Guess I have no choice,' Toph thought to herself, even though she was glad he was fighting so hard for the return of their friendship.

"And how do I start doing that Sokka?"

The warrior grinned smugly as he continued even though he knew full well he might regret it later, "We start with you calling me 'Snoozles' again."

She regarded him, amused. "But I do."

"Only when you're drunk," he reminded her, "you never joke around with me anymore. You don't punch me, or make fun of my obsession with meat, or tease my sister and Aang with me, or…" he sighed as he glanced away, reliving the memories he held dear as they resumed walking, now approaching the room he'd been aching to reach since he woke up. "You just don't talk to me anymore, Toph. I miss you."

Toph exhaled heavily as she uncrossed her arms and 'looked' at him, "I miss you too." She admitted, "but I don't know if I'm ready yet, for us to be friends. It's gonna be hella awkward, considering what happened… on the night of the engagement party," she finished, her once pale face glowing beet red as she glanced away to hide it.

"What do you mean?" Sokka asked, confused. When she gave him a baffled and pointed look, and he noticed her blush, he recalled how she raced out of her room yesterday morning - when she found herself naked and likely assumed they'd slept together. "Oh! Ha hahah ha hah haha – OW!" He yelped in pain, clutching his shoulder when he realised that Toph had punched him in agitation and embarrassment while he was laughing at her.

"It's not funny!" She protested, "We haven't even repaired our friendship and we basically – we – I… you and I – "

"We didn't have sex Toph," Sokka cut her off, chuckling at how her expression transformed from angry to confused in a matter of mere seconds.

"But I woke up naked, and you were in the room with me?"

"You mean, you don't remember how, when I came back with that glass of water, you tore your clothes off and danced while singing 'Secret Tunnnneeeelll. Secret Tunnnneeeellll!' for ten minutes straight, then proceeded to rant about how the fire ferrets were the team with the most potential yet had the trashiest earthbender in the club before falling back onto bed to go to sleep while sucking on your thumb like a new-born?"

Toph came to a halt just before they were to enter the room, her eyes wide and alarmed and mouth agape as she stood stunned. Sokka grinned at her expression before she hollered.

"Liar! I didn't suck on my thumb!"

"Okay, yeah. I made that up," he held up his hands in surrender, "but the rest of it is true."

"Then why'd you stay? Why didn't you leave?" She asked, confused, and slightly afraid that the answer was probably what she thought it would be.

"You asked me not to," he replied, a soft smile lurking on his lips – she didn't need her seismic sense to confirm it, she always knew he was smiling in that manner when he spoke like that; voice lowered to a whisper yet still holding the weight of his heart.

"I did?"

"You held my hand and told me you didn't want to be alone. I knew sleeping on the same bed with you would be wrong of me, especially since you were naked, so I took some spare sheets from your closet, and a spare pillow and slept on the floor." He regarded her with a cheeky smile now - she could tell by the way his voice grew mirthful, "When you woke up, you didn't check to see if I was on the bed or not did you? If you had, you probably would've also noticed that I still had my clothes on."

"I still would've bolted out of there regardless," the earthbender deadpanned, despite her embarrassed blush.

He raised an eyebrow in confusion, "Why?"

"Who'd want to see your ugly mut first thing in the morning?" She joked, laughing alongside him for a while, that is, until they were reminded of the past once again. Suddenly, the laughter ended, and when Toph was preparing to apologise, Sokka interjected before she had the chance.

"It's okay," he immediately reassured her, glad that they were at least talking and laughing with each other again. She knew he was forcing it out, the smile, the comfort – but she didn't push it away this time.

"We're here by the way," he reminded her, grinning from ear to ear as he opened the door and entered the large room - it was only after she stepped into the room after clearing her mind that she realised that he'd led her to… the buffet room.

"What the fuck!" Toph shouted, marching towards Sokka and glaring at him with near murderous intent. "Why the fuck are we here?! You said you'd take me to the war room! I have a fucking meeting to attend Sokka, and I'm already one hour late, you meathead!"

"Oh, sorry," he apologised half-heartedly as he began throwing every dish he could find onto the magnitude of plates he'd gathered. "I haven't eaten since this morning; General Fang was murdered last night, and I was called in to investigate at like 3 am today. It's been a long day and I haven't eaten."

"So you led me here cause you're fucking hungry?!" She yelled, already regretting accepting the knucklehead's offer of friendship. "What about my meeting Snoozles?! Where the fuck is the war room you cunt?!"

"Wow! So the 'bitchy' Toph finally makes an appearance," he stated jokingly and nonchalantly, drooling with desire as he unloaded an entire pot of seal jerky onto his fourth plate. "The war room is in the building two blocks following our guest rooms. It's massive, you can't miss it. The war room is down the hall from the main entrance; fourth door to your left."

"Thanks a lot you dick," she growled, turning around and heading out the door. 'Actually, nah – I need to repay him for his efforts.' Through her earthbending, Toph waited until he was pouring a bowl of steamed sea prunes and boiling stew onto his plate to shift the earth beneath him, grinning when she heard a splash and was rewarded with his cries.

"AHHHHH! HOTTTTT!"