The Taste of Metallic and Burn
Sokka never imagines himself as one to be as comfortable to accept the fact he's living with Zuko and his psychopath sister, but he's tolerating it. Until burned corpses marked for Azula starts appearing up on the front door like presents. Something is up, and Sokka might get more than what he bargains for.
One.
I'm a dead man walking here
But that's the least of all my fears...
The sun isn't beaming on his skin yet and he's already blinking up at the ceiling rather helplessly, letting his sleeping limbs slowly rose to a full wake. Sokka groans at an attempt to curse his brain for setting in an auto-mode so that he'd get up earlier than he used to - knowing now that he has guests to comply with.
He rolls over his bed and tries to get his whole body to function and be fully alert as his mind is, although he knows deep inside how his soul is just worn-out from the event that occurred two in the morning just a few hours before. He remembers that pitch of a scream as it struck the cold night air, straight into his eardrum.
He had grunted, brushed it off as another creepy nightmare, but later on was interrupted again by another sharp yelling, followed with sets of hysterical sobbing. He remembers sighing out, knowing full well who it was, swung his legs to let the soles of his feet touch the floor and began walking himself downstairs, where the source of the screaming and wailing started.
At the bottom of the stairs, he had already confirmed his suspicion: it was coming from Azula, as her door room was open - but Sokka had only seen the door, the whole scene inside was shielded from view. He knew though that Zuko was in there, trying to calm his sister down with hushed whisper, only to have it fell on deaf ears.
Aang was staggering outside, hands rubbing his cheeks in a worried manner. He remembers the expression that's beating across the young Avatar's face while Azula wailed some more, drowning in her delusional-state of dream, before he realised Sokka had come down to check what was happening. He didn't elaborate much, "We thought she wouldn't have these night terrors anymore. We thought she'd already stop. She- she stopped - a couple months back. We wouldn't, we wouldn't - "
Aang then seemingly gave up, sighing out frustratedly. Sokka yawned and leaned himself against the wall. Azula screamed again from inside the room helplessly.
The clock ticked away. Sokka then dropped his chin towards Aang, who was crouching with his elbows on his knees, and his fingers clasped on his bald head. He called for the younger man. "Check on Toph, will you? Wouldn't want another one of us to get a nightmare."
Aang nodded, stood and disappeared in the darkness. Sokka sighed again, his own words bounced in his skull, thinking: with these rate, it's a miracle any of us could go back to sleep without having infected by Azula's taunting nightmare.
As expected, Aang came back to report that Toph wasn't even flinching in her sleep. There isn't much of a surprise in that statement, "That's Toph for you." Sokka had mention in dry humour, "She sleeps like the dead."
There's an empty chuckle that escaped from Aang which easily told Sokka off how none of them were really up to any joke, not as Azula struck the whole building again with her screaming. It wasn't loud, but Sokka heard Zuko's voice, almost drowning if to match with his sister's sobbing. "It's okay, Azula. It's just a nightmare. Please wake up. You're safe. No one's going to hurt you."
Sokka wondered how far the truth ran along those lines in the dim lightness.
He can't recall much of anything after that - Azula managed to calm down after an hour, but Sokka knew he was already in his bed way before that. He remembers telling himself that he's too sleepy to keep up with these drama. And now here he is.
He muffles something against the mattress, before pushing himself off and jumping from the bed.
Sokka glances out at the scenery outside his window - well, it isn't much of a scenery when it's all covered in frost and ice, but the snow looks white and the sky is blue-er than usual, if that's even possible. Sokka wouldn't let anything that happened yesterday spoiled his mood - he's going to enjoy this weather and having his friends back again after three years of travel (he tries his best not to mention how those travel and years seem to fly off in a waste now that they're back as empty-handed as they were before).
After dressing himself appropriately, Sokka walks downstairs and enjoy a nice cocoa, also snooping around to see if anybody's awake. He doesn't even bother himself with snooping into Azula's room - he doesn't want to lose his head yet, people. Oh yes, he knows about Azula's supposedly 'disability', but she's a vicious woman; that's just something someone can't just wash off easily, even after spending the last three years in the company of Aang and Zuko.
Or maybe she's changed (even though from yesterday's arrival to the dinner, she didn't show any sign of 'changing' whatsoever), who knows - but Sokka still isn't risking anything.
Next to Toph of course, Zuko sleeps like the dead too once he's knocked out. In fact, more deadly if he isn't well rested. There was once when Aang tried to wake him up with a supposed 'prank' which ended up wrong with Zuko blasting fire everywhere, under the illusion (and drowsiness) that he's attacked. Aang was quick on his feet and used his airbending to save his feet from being engulfed by the fire.
It was a lesson for everyone then.
Sokka doesn't have the heart to wake Aang up, although he knows the young man wouldn't reject him if he asks him to join along for a tour, or just a walk around the Southern Water Tribe - but the look of contentment on Aang's face as he snuggles up in blanket and practically the whole damn mattress makes Sokka retreats his steps back. He could imagine how long Aang is from resting on a proper bed. The young Avatar needs it.
He isn't even going to try with Toph: that girl lives with her own principle attach to her whole being. She'll do whatever she wants, however she wants it. Including her waking hour, or sleeping time.
When Sokka's cleaning up his hot cocoa drink from his mug, he hears shuffling coming from the closed door - the room that belongs to Azula. Sokka stops, putting away the clean mug. He walks slowly towards the door.
"Um, hello?" He tries, "I hope you aren't dead in there."
Some more shuffling, before it comes to a stop. Sokka waits. "Well then, I suppose the Mad Princess wouldn't want to go for a walk with me?" He closes his eyes and hopes for a snarl of refusal - he hadn't really meant it when he asked her. He's just being polite!
But there isn't more shuffling from the other side of the door and Sokka grows tired of waiting. He shrugs on his thick coat, adjusting anything that's necessary and leads himself out the door, where a guard stands. Sokka knows this man. He's about two, three years older than Sokka - used to be a childhood friend back before he embarked on a journey with a twelve-years-old Avatar and his sister.
The man didn't immediately recognised him. "Tarro!" Sokka grinned, "Didn't expect they put you on guard duty."
Tarro chortled as they exchanged hugs. Sokka tries to remember when's the last time he's worked with Tarro now. If he isn't wrong, Tarro's older brother was married not more than a month ago. Yeah. That was perhaps the last time he'd worked on something with Tarro. He is really a good, honourable man. Tolerating and patient. And he can honestly understand Sokka's plan (of anything!) better than anyone.
"Oh man, you should have seen where Payo was stationed at. He's got to deal with entertaining the Noblemen's wives." Tarro replies with a sly smirk, of which Sokka gingerly copies.
"All of them?"
Tarro barks out laughing - nodding his head after a while, "What a day to be alive!"
Sokka chuckles, imagining another friend of theirs, now trying to keep up with all the Noblemen's wives' wishes. Oh, to be a fly on that wall. Tarro then glances inside, as if he could get a definite view of the lodge now with all the guests roaming about, raising a brow. "Your roommate's okay?"
Somehow, Sokka has a hunch that he isn't talking about Aang, or Zuko, or Toph. So he responds with, "It's not so bad. She's okay."
"Did she try to eat you in your sleep?"
"She's a cold-blooded killer, alright." Sokka states, "But I'm pretty sure she's nothing sorts of cannibalism."
Tarro grimaces, still isn't satisfied with the fact Sokka isn't bothered as he is. If he's being absolutely honest, Azula isn't so bad now that you view her again after her great fall since the war. She hadn't been attacking anybody, or murdering children anymore - she's nearly harmless. Sokka can tolerate this.
He knows a lot of people couldn't. Just the general idea that Princess Azula is still well enough, not in chained or behind bars, locked-up in some mental infirmary or waiting for her death sentence, can give a crawl to one's skin. Tarro, however nice and kind he is, is apart of these people. The haunt of the terror the Fallen Princess once caused still played across his eyes, almost challenging the beast that live within his core to burst out and unleash hell.
It's a good thing Zuko vowed to protect his sister however he could (despite the fact the girl's a raging lunatic) - if he hadn't, who knows how Azula might have ended up right now?
"I'm still here because of the orders, Sokka. If the orders aren't keeping me hold - " Tarro makes a hissing noise, closing his eyes. "A knife through the brain, I swear to you. A knife through the brain."
Sokka wants to say, nice imagination you got there buddy but instead swallows it up and pats Tarro's shoulder in a pitiful kind of way. There's just something sad about someone who has the idea of killing another human, in Sokka's opinion. Tarro then lets himself slip a little smile, looking down almost in shame. But he quickly covers it up by saying that Hakoda wishes to meet Sokka in the Main Building as soon as he's up.
Sokka thanks him and skids around the snow for a while. He ought to waste sometime before he has to do any labor jobs - and Dad wouldn't be expecting his bachelor son to join him so early in the morning, anyway.
This evening, the Southern Water Tribe will continue on with events - an evening tea (that's just for Firelord Iroh, the Councilmen and Prince Zuko), followed with a customary dinner, where local people could join in if they wish. The first night had gone well, Sokka hopes the second won't be a disaster.
He jogs up to the familiar cliff, the snow catching in the thick fur of his show. He merely brushes it off and continues on - remembering exactly the first time he finds himself here: the image of his mother pulling a five-years old him up, laughing when he failed to jump in time and stumbled instead. Kya helped him get up, brushing the snow off of his pants and grinning up at him.
He grinned back, gloved-fingers gingerly plant itself across Kya's face. The older woman smiled warmly, before giving light kisses on the tip of his fingers.
Sokka grins now, jumping up at the edge of the cliff, looking over the horizon - it's one of the place that no one really bother coming to. Which make sense because the cliff is rather dangerous: the extreme climates can easily swipe anyone away if not careful, the ground itself is not solidly stable. Sokka barely comes here too, but when he does...
Oh, when he does come - it's as if the world were never tampered with in the first place. Everything is at its ease. The line when the sky meets the sea is - is - is breathtaking. On that moment, the pain he suffers throughout the battles he's been into, or the pain of others that somehow mingled with his, seems worth to bare.
And it doesn't hurt that the place reminds him of his mother.
It's a nostalgic feeling, really. Sorta pathetic, in all honesty.
Sokka sits there for half an hour, just sitting there you know. The wind is nice today, on his face, and the sea is calm in front of him. The icebergs looks like a paint coming to life, framing the whole scenery. He brushes his gloved-hands over the snow, remembering the presence of his mother by his side.
It's good. Such good moments.
The rest of the day goes on smoothly. Sokka meets up with Dad and they begins to re-arrange the whole building again for the Evening Tea. Sokka gets away by just splitting everybody (who volunteered) each a job, mostly to guard and to make sure the Noblemen gets on safely. Dad has to deal with the decorations and what he thinks about this colour for the napkins.
Dad can't kick his ass when Sokka makes fun of him.
By the time it's near the evening time, Sokka's back to the lodge to change his clothes. He's got to look more ... dashing. The guard that stands outside isn't Tarro this time, but Sokka knows him too and greet him, although more formally. Inside, he passes a room - and stops half-way through.
He recognises the voice floating from the other side of the room.
"... medical progress is very frustrating. I'm disappointed ... she's still tied... what happens if you have to go..."
"... it seems hopeless. I apologise... I understand how difficult... but she's my sister..."
"... three years is a long period of... I guess I could at least try... not guaranteed... I know that she's your..."
"... We seek so many help... Aang reaches the Spirits... at least we know she isn't lying..."
A sigh.
"I'll see what I can do."
"Thank you... have no idea... appreciate your..."
"...thank me yet..."
By that point of conversation, Sokka's already sprinting to his room: somehow, his heart is drumming more than it should and there's an alarm beeping loudly in his head. It's not everyday you have the opportunity to eavesdrop on the most private conversations ever between The Grand Healer and The Fire Prince. Sure, Sokka only gets fragments of the conversation, but it doesn't exactly take a genius to know what they're talking about.
His mind wanders to the topic of their discussion, and there's a wrinkle in the whole perfect lay-out: what exactly happened to Azula?
He gets the whole something's being messed-up in her head thing - but Sokka never really did fully understand the predicament over her state of being. He knows she'll be in pain if Zuko and her are separated in a certain distance, so much in pain that she may face death. But he doesn't get - he doesn't get how Azula (remember her? Crazy, serial-killer on the loose at early age of fifteen?) can get so weak, almost a ... shadow of a human she used to be.
How can a strong individual become so... broken?
Sokka decides not to trouble himself with those thoughts - and just as if cue, a few knocks thud against his door. Katara, who's on the other side of the door, clears her throat. "Sokka?"
He swallows, rubbing one side of his cheek. He decides not to let her in unless Katara requests so. "Yeah?"
Katara sighs in relief, he could sense, and she continues. "Zuko is ready for dress. Perhaps Azula is too. I'm sending a help to her right now." She pauses momentarily, "If it's not any trouble, would you escort both of them to the Main Building preferably ten minutes before Evening Tea begins?"
Sokka takes a moment to answer, weighing his options out. "Um, sure. Yeah. I can do that."
"Good." His little sister seems satisfied, but there's also a hesitant pause in her voice that suggests she might want to say more. If it's anything important, she doesn't say it. Instead, she goes with, "I'll see you then."
"See you."
He hears the footsteps of his sister slowly fades into silence, and Sokka lets out a breath he doesn't know he has been holding. He lets out a deep exhale of air before lying on his bed, his back pressing against the soft mattress.
Things are getting weird, an odd chill runs across his spine and Sokka shivers, shoving that thought far back in his mind.
Things are going to be okay, he convinces himself, determined.
Things are going to be okay.
Sokka wakes up at two in the morning with no absolute reason whatsoever.
He glares at the ceiling, as if the solid matter could provide him an answer to settle his rattled mind. He hates when he wakes up in the middle of the night and can't fall back to sleep. It sucks. He rolls over to his side, trying to arrange his breath so it could work properly and send a signal to his brain that he's ready for another sleep. It's safe to assume that attempt fails almost immediately as it begun. He sighs again, muffling something onto the mattress before he swings his legs over the bed.
He ruffles his hair angrily (mostly to himself) and grabs the rubber-band nearby. He ties it in a hurried gesture, stands up, taking slow but large strides towards the door.
He takes a moment to admire the brilliant full moon, a dark shapes of cat-foxes howling outside, on cliffs, between trees - the sound of its howling comes settling in between the silence of the darkness looming inside of the lodge. Sokka grunts as he kicks up invisible dirt on the floor, making his way downstairs, grunting, "Seriously? Howling? How more cliché can it get?"
Nobody answers him.
Sokka grunts some more.
Half-way down the stairs, his eyes open as it notices the dim light from the open kitchen illuminating almost the entire lodge. Stepping on the ground-level, he finally sees the silhouette sitting rigidly by the counter of the kitchen, her face empty and bored as she stares out the window, a thick blanket wrap over her whole body. He stops, considers for a while, before he decides what the heck and moves over to make his infamous hot cocoa.
Azula doesn't even budge.
He works efficiently to finish up his hot cocoa - fills the mug with boiled water, mixes it with coco powder, adds some sugary goodness - and, "Behold, the magic essence of my creation - Hot Cocoa!" Sokka smiles to the cup, taking its scent as he settles himself across from the Fire Princess who never once stop to gaze at him at the counter.
Because it's 2 AM, and very, very much awkward, Sokka tries to crack up the stinging atmosphere and breaking it with, "Throwing a pity party for yourself and you don't even invite me." He kinds of pouts, sipping on his cocoa drink. "And here I thought we were friends."
Azula finally takes the action to spare him a look, may it be as deadly as the blizzard they have in middle-Winter last year. Sokka expects a sneering comment about how she isn't friend with a water-tribe peasant, but she surprises him with a simple sneer, "Yet here you are."
"My friend named Insomnia decides to drop in just now and I can't seem to bug him off," Sokka explains, letting the coco flavour swirls inside of his mouth, enriching him and his whole night. It even makes the idea of having an awkward conversation with Azula seems sorta appealing. Sokka shakes his head slightly, pretending to be annoyed, "Pesky little thing, he is."
Azula seems to be eyeing him from head to toe, "Indeed he is." She pauses for a long time before adding, more snarling than anything, "And this seem to be the cure?"
He ignores her earlier comment and concentrates instead on what she's referring to in her last question: the mug in his hand. Sokka raises the drink slightly towards her, half-grinning as he topples it back and let the drink flows down his throat. "Yes. Who knew medicine could taste so good, huh? Definitely not me." He licks his lips dry, and watches her. "I'm done sharing my side of the story - so what's keeping you up and canoodling here with yourself?"
"Canoodling?"
"You know, canoodling." He scrunches up his nose, trying to form the words to spell it out. "It's when you kiss and cuddle up with somebody and - "
She holds her hand up, stopping him. "I know what it is."
"Then why did you ask?"
"It was an odd use of the word."
"It's called living in Sokka's vast amount of vocabularies. Don't worry. You'll get used to it." He takes another sip. "So, why're you're here staring so strangely outside at practically nothing, at like, two in the morning? Must have a legitimate reason."
Azula returns her gaze back at the window, but the venom in her voice doesn't go away. "Hn, and what makes you think I'm... sharing my reasons with you?"
Sokka makes the pretence of looking around, "I don't see anyone here, or maybe I should wake your stupid oaf of a brother, Zuko..."
"No!" Azula looks shock, the blanket wrapping around her body falls slightly from her shoulders. Sokka raises his brows at her - watching as she tries to regain her composure. She sits back down properly, looking down, "I mean... don't."
"Hah!" Sokka makes a 'psyche' face at her, shaking his head straightly afterwards. "No way am I ever going to wake Zuko up, ever. He gets extra paranoid when he's all asleep. He's almost as insane as you are when he's at that level."
Sokka stops in his movement, watching as a slight dark atmosphere begins to vibrate from Azula's being when he realises what he just said. But she doesn't lash out, just inhales very deeply, her eyelids fluttering close. It's obvious she's been wrestling with her temper, among other things. "He's a tool. Much like you." She flutters her eyes back open, and there's a glint of ultimate wickedness glimmering that sends shiver down Sokka's blood.
Apply more Hot Cocoa. "Like a bug. Deserved to be squashed flat."
"Nuh-uh," Sokka quickly declines. "I've squashed bugs before. You definitely wouldn't want to do it with those socks," he now leans down to look at the piece of cloth wrapping Azula's feet. "They're messy and they make these noises as they're squished between your skin and the concrete matter, and they stick very badly... It's all ugh. Traumatic experience, I assure you."
Azula doesn't respond, just keeps staring down ahead out the window. Sokka watches her.
Besides from a faint scar from her ear to her jaw, the sunken cheeks and the dark circles under her eyes, Sokka remembers this girl from years ago - comparing it to now. She's really ... pretty, in a sense. Sokka squirms (ew!) but it's kinda true - she's not all bad. Pale cheeks, raven hair, bright, golden eyes in just the right angle. She looks sorta ordinary now, but only sort of. Her hair's tied up completely behind, with a few strands falling lifelessly by her petite porcelain face. She's in a two-layer clothing; the first being a red-shirt, the second being a big coat (blue coloured - shocker!) before the blanket draping over those layers.
If she isn't all wrong in the head (or the fact she's Zuko's sister), Sokka would (honestly) have considered asking her out.
Hurm. Weird. More Hot Cocoa.
"Paint a picture. It'll last longer." Azula sneers without looking at him, making Sokka squirming more in his seat, knowing she'd caught him staring oh-so-obviously at her.
Sokka tries to shake any new (strange) feelings off as her eyes are now burning holes through his head, and masks it with, "Trust me, you wouldn't want that. I've tried picking up drawing as a hobby before - didn't exactly turn out to be a masterpiece. Your brother looked like a lump of potato with a dislocated left eye."
There's a small tug on the Fire Princess' lips - somewhat resembling a smile. "Sounds pretty accurate."
"Tell it to Zuko. He burned it the second he got his hands on it. I've got to say that I didn't exactly draw him well enough that he had to turn it to ashes in front of my own eyes, but I'm pretty sure I drew Aang spot-on!" Sokka sighs dramatically, letting his chin dropping onto the base of his palm - his elbow resting neatly against the surface of the smooth counter. "Now we'll never know."
"And perhaps it is for the greater good." Azula says back and Sokka squints his eyes up at the young woman across from him.
"You sound like Iroh."
Azula hisses. "That is an insult. I do not sound like my foolish Uncle, or ever hope to."
"Well then, cut off with the metaphor and stuff, and leave it to the old man - or Zuko. I think he's been effected with Iroh more than he's willing to admit." Sokka points to Zuko's door, "Stick with being, you know, the Manic Panic, bucko-combination."
Azula taps her fingernails against the counter, a low sneer comes from her lips - clearly not appreciating the nickname.
"You should take up a hobby. Clearly you're bored." Sokka urges bravely, as he nudges her with his elbow, risking his hand in the process. Or the whole package of his neck.
Azula seems to be shrinking from the contact, but not as badly as she would normally would, Sokka notices. She just merely keeps her distant and grits her teeth, before releasing a collection of air through her nostrils. "What pathetic little activity do you suggest I do with my free time?"
"I don't know. How about shōgi, or Xiàngqí?"
"You're suggesting I should take up strategy board games with annoying little pieces with the pretence of a real warfare?"
"Ah. You've heard about the game." Sokka processes the information swiftly - the games were rather popular in Earth Kingdom (even originated from there, as a matter of fact) and Sokka sometimes playing with it idly, usually to pass time. "Maybe you're right. From where I could see it, you're more of an attack-and-butcher-people kind of person, rather than the strategic-inclined one. Maybe we should work on expanding your interest instead! Instead, you know, plotting a murder or blow up a city - maybe you'd find more interest in... I don't know, cooking?"
Azula is quiet for a moment. "No."
"That hurts." Sokka shrugs her off, "One day, soon. There must be something you're interested in, I'm sure. Besides, you know, from the usual - "
"Plotting a murder or blowing up a city?"
Sokka squints his eyes at the Fire Princess. "Yes," he decides to answer, studying her reaction.
Azula seems to be smirking - or maybe performing a shadow of it - but anyway, there's an action going on with her thin, chapped lips. She shrugs her shoulders, "Perhaps." Of course after living practically your whole life invested in ruling the whole human population, Sokka guesses she needs a time to think what else she could do once her first occupation have been crossed off.
"Is it good?" She suddenly speaks up after a few beats past in silence. Sokka follows her line of sight - finding it resting on the quarter-filled hot cocoa mug that is between his hands.
"The Hot Cocoa? Yeah, it's good. It's going to be the best thing you've ever tasted." Sokka pushes the mug slightly towards her, a small victory grin reign on his face. "Give it a try."
Azula curls her lips in disgust.
"Oh come on, you know I haven't poisoned it!" He pushes the mug to her again, "Try it. Just once."
Azula hesitates, but soon Sokka can see the light of determination in her gesture as she quickly wraps her slender fingers around the mug, a silent sigh escapes from her as the warmth heat up her fingers. She takes it closer to herself, smelling it first before gingerly giving it a taste. Sokka watches on eagerly - it's like a documentary of a new species being recorded after the species tried something new to eat.
He quietly snickers to himself at that image.
Azula purses her lips and puts the mug back on the counter. Sokka eyes her. "So, how is it? Fantastic, right? Soothe right through your soul."
She's just staring at the mug, still pursing her lips. He starts to frown. "Oh, it's not that bad!"
"It's fine. It's delicious." Azula suddenly flops down her stool, wraps the blanket closer to her body. Her head casting down and there's no audible sneer as she speaks. Sokka suddenly looks on worriedly. Then, she actually looks him in the eyes - just for a brief second - before she looks away. "But clearly you are wrong if you haven't tasted the Fire Sashimi Petals."
"What's that?" Sokka asks - one part challenged that there is another dish-or-drink that comes close to his hot cocoa, but another part mostly curious.
Azula kind of smirks more, "A pity. It seems that you are either an under-educated child, or have been to the wrong places."
"Are you actually going to tell me what the heck is that thing?"
She turns, her back to him now. "I'll be retiring now." And suddenly there's a snap of fingers, and Sokka's eyes went wide as he realises the napkin that's sitting nearby has been caught on fire - the fire is small and probably not going to burn the lodge down, but it's still a fire - a red flaming little creature, with sprinkles of blue at the bottom.
It's a rare sight, Sokka's got to admit - but he's more towards 'oh Spirits something is on fire! Put it out put it out out it out!' rather than 'damn, that's a beautiful fire'. "Ugh. I'm not responsible for this mishap! Damn it, I can't even bend for Spirit's sake!" but seemingly as Azula won't be turning back to put out the fire herself, Sokka takes the initiative to throw it quickly on the sink, letting the cold water washes the piece of clothing and extinguish the flame.
Sokka frowns, looking as her silhouette slips into the comfort of her room. He realises then that although Zuko and Aang had pointed before that Azula is unable to cause any major harm now, but it doesn't mean that stops her from initiating her bending ability. Man, she must have a thrill in watching him panic over the sudden fire.
"Next time I serve your dinner, I'll make sure they put polar-bear-dogs food in your meal!" He shouts in the echoed-hallway, grunting as the only reply he gets is the dripping water from the sink, and the sound of his own voice.
Sokka wakes up again the next morning a little earlier than he intends to. But instead of wasting time groaning, he rolls over and decides to start the day fresh. He notices that he's even earlier than yesterday. He wonders if Tarro is still guarding today, taking the early shift. But by the looks of it, it's still dark-out, a little too early for a guard to come in for their shift.
Nevertheless, Sokka stumbles himself downstairs, straight to the kitchen to serve himself a hot, fresh hot cocoa.
He pretends he isn't pondering about last night's incident while he makes himself busy in the kitchen. Soon, the scent of the coco fills the air - and Sokka smiles largely. He's certain no one's going to ruin today for him.
As far as he knows, today serves no special occasion. The Prince will be having dinner secludedly in the lodge, with perhaps his friends if he wants to (and of course he wants to). Iroh will certainly want to join in. Sokka hatches a plan to send an escort to inform the older man, that is, after he asks Zuko first, making sure he's comfortable with the idea.
Sokka decides once again on visiting the cliff, just to kill off some time before he'll set to do whatever it is that needs to be doing.
He gathers another layer of coat and makes sure he's well-clothed. Sokka skids across the floor to the door, eager and excited, stepping out before he stumbles and falls hard against the harsh, ice ground. His first thought is that it must be a slippery ground today, until he realises that he's tripped over something. Something hard and solid and heavy.
Thank Spirits for the gloves and thick-layered of clothing, the only thing that's throbbing rather painfully is his right knee - the one that stumbles first. He folds his leg carefully as he sits up, cursing out.
What he sees almost threaten his soul to fly off into the Spirits world: pair of cold eyes, looking back at him, unblinking, empty. Dead.
He knows this man. Yuan.
But something's different about this Yuan. Yuan he knows has dark-mocha skin, easy-going smiles and sharp, intense stares. The Yuan he recognises would shyly ask about Katara whenever she's gone off, would take his orders and execute it without any complaints, who eats fish soups like there's no tomorrow. Yuan he knows wouldn't be lying off on the ground, skin as if burned except for his pale, dead face, eyes searching for something that doesn't exist.
On top of his forehead marked an ancient-writing style, that nearly resembles a logo: an insignia.
But Sokka spends too much time with Gran-Gran when he's a kid while she reads her ancient-font book to know the carving, the spelled-name.
He pushes himself back, still gasping for oxygen.
Azula, the insignia states, bold and clear and vivid as the blue sky and the corpse in front of him. Azula.
6,044 words. For my future references. And just so you know, Fire Sashimi Petals don't exist. What do exist, however, is being a Hot Cocoa-addict. It's something Sokka and I have in common, apparently, because I can assure you both him and I can chug that piece of ... stuff more than the necessary (or appropriate) quantity amount for no apparent reason whatsoever.
Yeah, we're awesome like that. Thanks for the read.