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.
Three.
I, I keep on running
I'm building bridges that I know you never wanted...
"Snoozles."
He doesn't respond, the steamed fish in his rice bowl stands there in front of him, untouched.
This time, there's a nudge - and Sokka quickly pulls himself out of his thought to look back at a worried Aang, and a scowling Toph. He blinks back to realise that currently, he's having dinner with his friends and sister - enjoying the steamed fish and other dishes the chef had prepare for the evening. Right at the end, sits Iroh, happy and beaming as he eats away - next to him is Zuko, a content smile on his face, and next to him, is (obviously) none other than Azula, who merely just sits there, just scrapping her rice-filled bowl with her chopstick, not really eating.
Sokka shakes his head and turns back to his own food. Aang seems to be bubbling out in concern, ducking his head slightly from besides Toph, to check on his friend, "Are you okay there, Sokka?"
Toph doesn't wait for his answer, "I was asking you a question, you Meathead."
"I - uh - sorry. I was distracted."
"By what?" asks Aang, his eyebrows shoots up in a curious manner, his mouth clasps on the ends of the chopsticks, chewing on the rice.
"Nothing. Something a friend said to me earlier." Sokka pushes it away, now leaning over to take more of the fish, before it all gets taken by his sister - who appears like she hasn't had a proper meal since forever.
Qu's voice booms in his mind, like a gentle whisper, but equally loud somehow. "A lot of people heard it, man. You checked out the Princess' alibi. Everyone's speculating the worst. Some even said she's pregnant, which is a shocker because I - your best friend - don't even know you're in a relationship with the Dragon Lady. I mean, that's just not fair, dude - Imma look like the sad sack if I'm clueless about the fact that my best bro is having the most dangerous secret love affair of the century and I'm the last one to hear about it. You can't leave a man hangin'."
And of course, following with those words, Sokka hears his own voice denying any relationship (or lack thereof) that occurred between Azula and him. It's not like it matters anyway what other people had thought about it - but something's itching on his skin like a rash, and he can't seem to rub it off. Had it been worth it? Saving out Azula? Even risking his reputation?
He tips his chin back and lets his eyes rest on Zuko, as the slightly older man listens to whatever it is now that Toph's sharing about - and watches him as he interacts back with Katara, making a funny remark, before he chuckles out. Yes, Sokka decides. It's worth it. Zuko needs a rest from dealing with serious matter - sometimes a pointless conversation can ease the mind. Sokka would know, most of his friends love to indulge themselves (and pulling Sokka too) into a completely senseless chatter, specifically Qu.
He shakes his head, now allowing the conversation of his friends to be registered into his thoughts, with Aang says: "...must be more suspects rather than Azula?"
Oh. Okay. They're talking about this.
Katara doesn't even look up, "Lex parsimoniae."
"Huh? What's that?" Aang blinks helplessly, Sokka also turns to his sister - expecting an answer.
Suddenly, Azula chuckles next to Zuko, her shoulders actually shaking as her lips turn into a small shape that Sokka recognises as her infamous smirk. She shakes her head, refuses to look up as her mouth chews on a small portion of rice she manages to collect with her chopstick, "Idiot."
Katara turns with interest, "You know what it is?"
"Only buffoons don't." Azula replies - the weak image of a girl she is nowadays seems like nothing more than a pure dream, as if someone has call the Azula that was once to make a comeback. But the simple idea of she, not meeting anyone's gaze, confirms Sokka that nothing of sorts happened. "Lex parsimoniae - or in its other name, Occam's razor. The razor states that one should proceed to simpler theories until simplicity can be traded for greater explanatory power. The simplest available theory need not be most accurate. It's not exactly the correct definition, but it will do."
"What you're saying is...?" Aang frowns extra hard, trying to understand the Manic Princess' statement.
It's Toph that cuts anyone from saying anything, "It means that the Councilmen are going with their best and easiest option."
"Well, that's stupid." Sokka mumbles, and sees Katara and Iroh nod in agreement.
"Honestly, who could blame them?" Toph says more, swallowing a lot of rice and meat. "If I were them and there's a dead body, and this body is burned everywhere and there's a message on top that says Azulon's heiress, I'd also give in to that principle. I mean, who else here is Azulon's heiress - unless, of course, Iroh has a daughter he has no idea about, or Sparky and Wholesome of Crazy over here have another sister without their knowledge. Both cases seem unlikely."
"Maybe." Zuko mutters, "maybe not."
"What? You're suggesting you actually have another sibling there, Sunshine?"
"Please... don't call me that." Zuko inhales, and continues. "All I'm saying is, it can happen. My - our mother walked out on us when we were young. Very young. Yes, the case is ... almost impossible. But she wasn't old enough that she couldn't produce offspring when she disappeared."
"So, basically, you're telling us - " Toph pauses, licks her lips and drawls slowly, " - that there is a possibility of Ozai knocking your Mom up and have her pregnant with a... third version of you?"
"It isn't entirely impossible."
"But the chances are slim to none!" Toph chortles, "You're losing your game, Sparky. You're thinking of things that don't exist."
"Look, anything could happen." Katara decides to voice out, silencing Zuko from saying anything. "I understand where Zuko is coming from, but I also get what you're saying Toph. But let's just keep our options open: anything can happen here. Even, yes, Ozai's other child. Maybe. But until we can confirm that, it's better not dwelling on it."
Sokka, who has been playing with the small bottle of soy sauce in his hands, suddenly speaks up, "I think... Takeshi knew she didn't do it."
"What?" Aang turns to him. "How do you know?"
"Because - think about it. If he's sure that Azula was the murderer, he would have called all of his army and hauled her and Zuko out of this place without a moment of hesitation. But he didn't. Instead, he just asked nicely for you guys - " He gazes towards Zuko and the silent Princess, " - to come nicely with them. It's weird. It's just for - I don't know - like, a show. He's just playing you guys off."
"Sokka is right." Iroh suddenly says.
"I am?" Sokka perks up. "Did somebody document that? That's a piece of important history, people."
"The Councilmen were well aware of Azula's strength, and I'm very certain that they'd spend lots of times feeding their guards; asking them to guard this lodge every hour. I would know - I've seen a few of them spying while I was taking my night slumbers." Sokka shivers - having the thought of someone watching over him while he's sleeping at night immediately sends chills throughout his body. "They know Azula didn't go anywhere last night."
"Then why bother with the act?" Aang asks, confused.
"Maybe," Zuko rubs his now shaven face, droning very slowly. "Somebody is setting my sister up for this murder."
"Yes. Perhaps." Iroh nods, playing with his long, white beard, "Someone is seeking vengeance for Azula's crime."
"That shouldn't be a surprise." Toph snorts, shrugging. "Imagine the list of suspects we're looking at, you know, based on the friends Cuckoo Train has made over the war. Even Twinkle Toes' real age is not that high of a number."
"Hey!" Aang scowls.
"Okay. I'm seriously done talking about this case. Plus, I think the Men's guards bugged this house or something 'cause I have a feeling we're not the only one that's participating in this conversation." Toph says, and out of the corner of Sokka's eye, he sees Iroh nodding again.
"Fine." Zuko dismisses.
"So," Toph begins. "When are you guys coming to my school and make a super big show that I have awesome friends and my pupils are bunch of losers that need more working on their bending, rather than their useless knowledges of how hot that theatre-actor, Kehro is, and whether if it's true or not that he's dating the other theatre-actress, Min Wei?"
"His name is actually Kenzo," Katara chirps. "And he's not dating Min Wei, I checked."
Toph groans, "You too, Sugar Queen?"
"What! I was travelling and a friend asked me to go to this act about us - again - the improved version obviously, the one where we actually won, and the actors and actresses are more or less accurate and Kenzo was playing a very attractive Zuko and I can't help it."
"More attractive me?" Zuko chocks on a meat.
"Hey, he was nice alright. He actually tells me I'm pretty."
"You - you talked to him?" Aang asks sadly, like a child whose dream has been crushed right in front of his very eyes.
"If I find out that they're not portraying me correctly this time, I swear to Spirits I'll talk to someone. I might even went up that stage myself!" Sokka shouts, agitated. "I mean, the ladies have to know that they are more to me than my charming, good looks."
"Charming good looks?" Toph scoffs, "I can't see you, but even I know that's not true."
"That- that is so cruel!"
"I don't understand, how more can someone be more attractive than me, while being me?" Zuko seems helpless.
Iroh laughs and steals his nephew's fish.
Sokka rolls over and opens his eyes immediately.
There has been a whisper of somebody calling after him in the darkness, and somehow he had identify it as something that is foreign from the land of dream; almost instantly knowing that it isn't someone from the dream that's calling him. In fact, it's a real voice, definite, solid and ... highly disturbing.
Sokka opens his eyes and sees a shadow standing by his door - sitting up quickly, Sokka watches this figure through his stil drowsiness state of mind. He sniffles, but doesn't move any muscles except for his right hand that is slipping slowly under his pillow, where he puts his army knife at every night before he falls asleep. Speaking of paranoid, huh? Oh, well.
"Who are you?" He growls, his voice drops to a lower tone than usual, in an attempt to intimidate his opponent. His mind - although sleepy - already reeling of a plan that could make him having the upper-hand on the fight, maybe a way to make it out of the room and wake everyone up instead of facing this person alone.
Oh Spirits. Don't tell me I'm going to be the next burned victim. I'm too handsome to die.
"Calm down, Water Tribe Boy." Those familiar voice says, now coming into the light. Azula stands there, eyes not quite meeting his and it seems that she's having trouble just being in his personal space. Perhaps being this close to a Water Tribe peasant initiates an asthma attack, muses Sokka.
"Oh, it's you." He still doesn't let go of his army knife that's now well in his grip, but he doesn't show it either. With the other free hand, he rubs his eyes, yawning, "Do you need help with anything? How did you even climb up those stairs. Don't your leg hurts?"
"I'm fine," she chants her mantra, her tone annoyed. He merely rolls his eyes backward, yawning again. "I need you to come with me."
"Wha - ?" Sokka squints up at her. "Are you okay, right now? Are you sleep-walking?"
"I just - can you not?" She tries to take a step forward, but because of her hip and leg injury, she stumbles instead and Sokka, quickly, stands up and snatches her hands that's reaching out - already reacting to prevent herself from completely clashing with the floor. "Ugh," she mutters, as the top of her head hitting his hard chest.
Sokka winces at the force of the collision. "Clumsy," he comments, now trying to steady her.
"I am not!" She snaps up, eyes glaring daggers. Through gritted teeth, she says, "And get your knife away from me."
He finally realises the vice-grip he has on her, and his right hand having the knife pointed to her body. He lets her go, and throws his knife onto the bed before he inspects the part where the tip of the knife were at, his other hand holding her other arm. "You're wounded," he says, now looking at the tear under her armpits, near her breast. The cut isn't deep, as only the tip of the blade has smeared against her skin, but there is a scratch - and there is blood. He tells her this.
She winces, but quickly let her left arm falls to cover the tearing. "It - it hur - fine. I'll be fine."
"You say that a lot." He notes, now going over to get a first aid kit Katara stores in each room of the lodge in the drawer. Pulling it, he immediately opens up the aid kit, finding a few plasters, the ones Katara has specifically designed it right after the war for cuts that don't need bandaging. "You're hurt. I know. It's always the smallest wounds, huh?" She doesn't answer, but he never lets that stop him before. "Hurts like a bitch."
He comes, waving the plaster in front of her face, "It'll cover up for the cut. It's not water-proof, and it'll hurt even more once it's wet and get dries up, and you try to tear it from your skin. So, I reckon you pull it off before you take a bath tomorrow." He now nudges her to move her hand away, "C'mon. I'll do it real quick."
"I don't - " She tries, sounding no more pleasing to be in this situation than him.
"I won't molest you or anything if that's what you're worried about." He says seriously, looking at her.
She has her eyes shut so hard that her nose is all scrunch up, and her teeth are gritted and lined perfectly for him to study. She takes a few inhales of breath before she shudders, and mutters in a fast-pace, "I'm not comfortable with this."
He turns his eyes to his feet, trying to take in the almost-scared girl (because she's never really scared, he thinks) in front of him that he never thought he'd see. Sokka licks his lips, "I'll be quick. Super quick. And then we can be out of this situation and not talk about it. At all. I promise."
He sees her swallow and exhaling again. Eventually, she lifts her left arm and exposes to him the tear.
He takes deep breath, darting a look at her before he places the plaster slowly over the cut. After having all the plaster on her skin, he takes two fingers and smoothens it, slightly touching her smooth skin when he finishes and lets his hand dangles by his side. He tries not hear the increasing rate of his heart that seems to beat louder in his ear, or to feel the tingle that is now spreading from the fingers that have come in contact with her skin to his whole body - in fact, he just licks his lips and decides to push it away as irrelevant.
"Done," he says, now turning back to take his knife, cleaning the tip of the blade, where he can see the blood tints, under the illuminating moonlight.
He simply wipes it against his tunic, later on only frowning - maybe I can ask Katara how to wash blood out of my cloth. There's just something not appealing with blood on one's clothes, no matter how small the amount of blood there is. Especially if it's not even yours.
When he turns back, Azula doesn't budge away, but her right hand is under her left arm now, and she's looking away from him.
For a couple of minutes, neither speak - until Azula opens her mouth, hesitating, and finally says it. "I - I need you to come with me."
Sokka gives her an odd look. "... Why?"
"I need you - you to show me ... where the dead body was."
This time, he's facing directly at her. Firmly, he repeats, "Why?"
"Can you - just do it." It's more of an order - a chocked order, but an order still - than anything and Sokka isn't having any of it.
"Would your head explode in a million tiny pieces and release confetti if you say please?"
"Would it matter?" She asks instead, standing awkwardly, eyes dragging to the floor.
Sokka lets his eyes travel to the window outside, where frosts are covering most of the glass. "It's cold out there - very cold. You sure you're okay being out there at this hour?" Then suddenly, he lets his gaze fall back on her. "What time is it exactly?"
"An hour pass midnight."
He sighs loudly, messing with his hair again. His mind is working and he groans dramatically when he finds himself walking to the closet, his army knife sets in his hand, - on the way, he catches his rubber band swiftly, and ties his hair almost as quickly - opens the closet, grabs one set of fur coat and puts it over his arm. He wears another layer of thick clothing on his body and turns to her. "I can't believe I'm - " he shakes his head and walks to her. "Do you need help walking?"
The Princess looks hesitant, her eyes everywhere except for him, and after a few beating seconds pass, one hand suddenly clutches the right part of his chest, almost digging her fingernails into his collarbone if his two-layer clothing isn't there. He quickly catches her right side, steadying her. He manages to crack a smile, "It's a wonder how you climb those stairs."
She's quiet for a while, watching as he slips his army knife somewhere in his clothes, before mumbling, "It wasn't easy."
He chortles, "I could imagine."
Now ready, he grabs a hold of her waist and lets her leans herself against his body. Under his fingers, he could feel her bones rather than flesh. He flashes her a look, but she must have not noticed when she only grunts, probably thinking how pathetic it is than now she's in the arm of a Water Tribe savage, weak and limping. Sokka just keep quiet and silently points out how she should eat more, but doesn't actually say it to her.
The amount of time they take to flight down the stairs aren't short, and once at the bottom, she stumbles again, grunting loudly and now grasping on him with all the force she could muster herself to. Sokka grunts as well, not really appreciating the abrupt pull on his shirt, the thick coat he's been holding with his arm falls without much of an effort, now settling next to his feet. Despite all of that though, he grits his teeth, "You okay?"
She nods, but doesn't say anything more.
The door isn't far from that point, and the walk there isn't much of a struggle. Once reaching the knob, Sokka returns to grab the fallen thick fur, brushing any dusts that manage to get caught up with the fabric. Coming back to Azula's side, he hands her the coat simply - watches the surprised expression flows and shapes the line on her face. "You need it more. Fire Nations people aren't supposed to withstand these types of weather, at this time of the night no less. Don't want you to die or anything."
"How thoughtful..." is all she could respond with, grasping onto the thick fur now. He shrugs a shoulder, and seeing as she still is staring intently at it - he takes it to grab the coat, unfolds it, and dress her until she snaps, "I can handle this."
"You were getting emotional." At a piece of un-living fabric.
"I was not." She grumbles, frowning and wears the coat quickly over herself. Once she smoothens the fabric, it is clear that the coat is a tad too big for her small-sized body, and Sokka can't help himself from grinning.
"You look nice." He throws a sarcastic remark, observing her.
There's a tug of a frown to her lips as she faces the door that encourages Sokka's grin to grow bigger. Who knew antagonizing the Fire Princess could bring so much joy? She clears her throat, "Are you certain you should go out in those attire?"
He nearly rolls his eyes at her, scoffing, "Please. I've lived here my whole life - these weathers? I could even sleep-walk through it. Although I rather not, because cat-wolves tend to roam during the nights and if you don't know this, they're carnivores - which means, I could be their next meal if I don't watch out for myself."
There's a glint that brightens up her cheeks somehow, "And that is horrible, how?"
"Nah, I'm too precious to be eaten."
"I'm sure you are."
"C'mon, you need me. I'm your machine to carry you around." He mocks, sneering up at her.
"I do not need you." She says harshly, as if she's spitting out poison from her mouth.
"You need me right now, don't you?" He raises his brow at her, putting his hand on his hip, looking down at her.
By the curl of her lips that almost shapes into a snarl, he knows he's winning this conversation. She hangs her head a little lower, then grunts audibly, "... Fine."
Sokka smiles in triumph, opening the front door and slowly walk himself, and the Princess, out of the lodge. Just as he thought: no guard. Which is correct, because they wouldn't allow anybody to guard at this hour, Sokka remembers his father informing him. But there will be a patrol where once in every two hours, a group of night-shift guards walk around to check if everything is as it seems. Letting his mind whirls back to the death of Yuan, he can't help thinking that the murderer must have known their schedules - and knew exactly what he's doing.
Sokka shakes his head and decides to focus on the present instead. A few more steps onto their porch, and he stops and crouches down, turning back to a shivering Azula. The dead eyes of Yuan flashes back at him and Sokka takes a time to compose himself, before croaking out. "There. That's where I found him."
Unexpectedly, a rough hand clasps on his shoulder before he realises that Azula is trying to kneel next to him. He flinches, but doesn't shove her hand away. He squints his eyes up at her, watches as her gaze sets on where Yuan once lied, cold and unmoving - her expression concentrated, her lips in a tight line; a faint resemblance between Zuko and her becomes somewhat more vivid, and something in Sokka's body (or mind, or heart or whatever) softens.
She extends her right hand, her fingers panning out over the place, her eyes are set grimly and she winces, but nothing more.
Abruptly, she snatches his hand, slender fingers around his large wrist, but grip him as harsh as dry ice. He grimaces, and uses his strength to pull away. Azula grunts.
"Calm down," she hisses.
"You're hurting me!" He says, wincing as her nails dig into his skin.
She loosens her hand, but doesn't let him go. Inhaling, she tries with a gentler tone, "Open your hand as I do. Palm down. Do not hesitate."
"Wha - why?!"
She frowns, "Just do it."
Because Sokka knows there's a one in a million chance she would say please, he just sighs and does as she asks to. He observes her from the corner of his eyes, confusion and curiosity all clashing inside of his head, but he doesn't pull away. A few of her raven hair that's tied up completely behind falls down to her face, but it doesn't seem to disturb her. Just as his fingers syncing with her movements, hovering over the scene of the crime, he jerks it back up - accidentally causing her to lose her balance and falls back on the snow.
She hisses incredibly loud and mutters something like "fool" under her breath, but Sokka isn't sure. She puts her hands back behind and leans back onto it instead, trying to create the illusion that she meant to fall. "Explain to me. What do you feel?"
Sokka rubs his palm, trying to put pressure on it. "Like somebody sticking a thousand needles on my fingers. And then, something weird, almost refreshing. Like peppermint."
"Peppermint?" She asks, scoffing out.
"Peppermint. Peppermint. You know them. It grows everywhere on Fire Nation's soils."
"Of course I know them, I just - wasn't expecting that as your answer."
"What did you expect then?" Sokka grunts, still rubbing on his palm and wonders if Azula has set his kidney on fire or something. "And what in the Spirit's world just happened?"
Azula goes back to the concentrated expression she was in a minute ago, looking back at the scene of the crime, her jaw set. Brushing a fallen hair behind her ears, she begins explaining, "The first, the thousand needles that you've experienced, was, I believe, the killer's signature. Or her/his bending's signature, anyway." She pauses, turns to look at him. "The second would be mine, I suppose."
"B-bending signature?" He gapes at her, wanting to laugh at the comedy of this situation. "What bending signature?"
"It's something similar ... to the concept of a scent for a food, or a drink. Except it's for bending instead. If you use a handful amount of bending, you signature will be all over the place. But it takes only high concentration and a lot - a lot - of practice to master this art. I wouldn't expect you to comprehend this information, of course."
Sokka's sure that Azula's pretty much mock him for being a non-bender by the end of her explanation, but her face doesn't seem like she's joking or taunting him - so he lets it roll over him easily. "I mean - I don't understand this. How do you know this? Can Aang do this? And how was I feeling that - as you've clearly stated, I'm not a bender - so how can I feel your signature and stuff?"
"Because I allow you to feel it, through me." She shrugs, now rubbing her bare palms together in trying to warm them up. "And no. I do not believe the Avatar knew about this. Or maybe he does, I do not know. As for how - my mother used to do it to me. But only once. During the horrid three years of which I spent travelling with my oaf of a brother and the idiotic Avatar, I started recalling on that particular memory. I began working on a way to do it as well."
"That's very independent of you." Sokka mutters, now standing up to stretch his legs.
Azula could only nod.
After a few moments, she looks back up at him, eyes furrowing together. "How are you feeling now?"
Sokka blinks at the darkness of the Southern Water Tribe instead of the Princess, rolling his shoulders, "What? You're asking about my hand, or me in general?"
She raises a brow, then drawls out, "Your hand, if you may."
"I don't know," Sokka looks back at his hand, clenching it into a fist and slowly opening it up. "It feels - strange. Like, like I've felt it before. Weird, right? 'Cause I never bend before in my entire life. Why's that?"
She seems to be creating a fire with her hands - but seeing as she's shivering wildly by now, she could only conjure up sparks. "Where - " she says through trembling lips, growing frustrated with the failed result on creating a fire to warm herself up, "Where do you think you've felt it?"
"I - I don't know." He sits besides her and slides his hand into the coat's pocket, pulling out a pair of thick gloves. "Here. Wear this. And, I thought you knew the answers. Don't tell me you're just as clueless as I am."
She takes the gloves, closing her eyes. She doesn't answer his questions, "I thought it was familiar as well, as though I've encountered this before, but I cannot properly recall from when or where - "
"You think you met this person before?"
"It - It's not much of a person, more - more of the, uh, the signature." She rubbing her dry lips, and out of a sudden, lets her forehead to fall on his shoulders, her whole body trembling. "But I can't - don't know from where - "
"Was it a royalty?"
"I don't know."
"Was it a friend's signature, maybe?"
"I don't know."
"Well, you must know something!" He replies, annoyed.
"I don't," she grits, but can't really glare at him as she's more seeking warmth from him rather than anything else. "I don't - I can't - remember anything!"
The sudden rise of her voice as she presses on makes her chattering more visible, and Sokka is confused by her abrupt burst - struggling with an inner-Sokka; whether to argue further on the subject or let her whole body obey to the silence that's taking over the both of them.
He finally sighs though, giving up to the third more-needed option and extends his hand to her arm, "C'mon, Mad Princess. Let's get you inside." Gradually, both of them stands up; well, he's standing up. She's more towards not trying to get herself passed out at this point. He puts his arms around her, pulling her body closer and at the same time, helps her to step inside the lodge. Her hair is already tickling his neck, and it's even more ... disturbing now as she tries to snuggle herself closer, her nose barely coming in contact with the hollow part between his neck and collarbone.
"Please..." he says, restraining himself. "Don't - do that."
Once inside, she collapses on the couch at the living room, snuggling more to the heat of the room rather than his body. Sokka shakes the crawly feeling all over his body and skips to the kitchen, setting the kettle and firing it up. He looks back from the open kitchen to a still-trembling Azula, and sighs. Once the kettle signals that the water is boiled, he makes two cup of his Hot Cocoa.
He returns to the living room, putting the mugs on a table and shakes the Princess. "Hey," he calls. "I got something for you. To warm up."
She slowly flutters her eyelids open, trying to glare at him. He rewards her with a half-grin, "Hot Cocoa. I make one specially for you, so you definitely have to drink that now. Or else, it's not going to be special no more."
He sits her up carefully and lands himself next to her. She immediately, once again, lets her head falls on his shoulder. He quickly takes a mug of Hot Cocoa and urges her to sip it down. She does, and immediately calms down after that. Sokka watches in relief. Good. She's not going to die.
"Are you better now?"
She nods.
"What - " he hesitates, now just staring at her face. She's still trembling, but not as wild as she was a few moments ago. Her hair falls back to cover him from a full view, and his finger itch to just pull it back. He snaps out of it of course, cursing himself in his head: oh no, not getting stupid over her. Especially her. "What exactly did the Spirits do to your - " He dares himself to make eye-contact, if necessary, although she's not facing him. "To your brain, Azula?"
The use of her name surprises both party - Sokka's more perplex than anything, the name feels strange to come from his tongue. And she, although remain motionless otherwise, flinches at first. She ducks her head a little lower; something she always does when she's uncomfortable, he notices.
He frowns at that - is he making her uncomfortable? Even after all the things they went through? (Yeah, okay, probably he's exaggerating a bit right there. Whatever.) He exhales through his mouth, mess with his (practically) untangled hair and leans over to take his mug from the table.
"I - " she opens her mouth, that single syllable escapes from her is enough to make him snaps his head to face her. She looks like she's thinking hard, probably having an internal argument with herself on whether she should tell him, but she later closes her eyes and sighs out loud, probably coming to a final decision. With that, she says, "Perhaps it's best I keep the... tale to myself."
Ouch. Rejection sure hurts. How can he let himself forget that, ever? Nevertheless, Sokka nods his head, throwing away any hope of ever... talking or understanding the Princess now. Not that it matters if he ever 'understands' her or something - sure, it would be kinda cool (and wacko) to decode how her brain works, but it's just - ugh, he's losing his mind. Spirits, he's been infected by Azula's madness. Someone, anyone, help!
He reminds himself that the drowsiness is slowly getting to him.
"Yeah, sure." He responds gruffly, swallowing a quarter of his Hot Cocoa down. "I understand, I guess."
"I ... think you misunderstood." She drawls out and Sokka narrows his eyes toward her. "I meant, I'll tell you - one day, perhaps. Not... not now. Not tonight."
"Really?"
Azula seems agitated by his hopeful tone - oh he forgets that the Princess is clearly allergic to any form of positivity, right. She nods her head and slowly sips on the warm drink, "If it will please you."
"Okay. I'm cool with that." He won't let her sour mood affect him, alright. "Sunlight, it is."
"What?"
"Huh? Oh, nothing. It's just - when you said you were going to tell me one day, and not tonight, I just figured you would tell me. In the sunlight. It's a nice image, don't you think? You gather strength from the sun, which was opposite from water bender or the tribe, and it's probably when you're comfortable the most. And the idea of it - won't spook you so much, unlike during the night. Sunlight makes you spill secrets easier. Do you get me? I mean, but it's just useless-me talking, I make no sense sometimes."
"You are not useless." She spits, eyes close and face calm. "And yes, I do understand what you meant. I will tell you someday, hopefully in the sunlight."
He grins (like a total idiot) at her, "You know, you're not so bad. Except, from you know, not-so-impressive resume based on what you did in the war - but you're okay."
"I suppose you expect me to appreciate your sentiment, and a sincere speech of 'thank you'?"
Sokka instead scoffs at her, "Woah, I said 'not bad', not 'a complete saint'. I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."
"Very funny." She dryly responds.
"Hilarious." He replies back, a grin still on his face - and he notices the way the corner of her lips twitch slightly upwards. "You know, I think we have enough for the night. I almost kill you with my knife, and you almost got killed from the weather, and it's just a miracle that Zuko isn't here right now slaying me to the after-life."
There's a faint smirk on her lips, "Death hasn't been kinder, no."
Sokka raises his brow at her, "Obviously you'd enjoy that, wouldn't you? Death taking my soul away."
"I was talking about me," she bitterly responds, stare as cold as ice.
Something in Sokka's chest hurts - although he can't pin-point why. But he doesn't like it when she say those words, or the look she's expressing now. He frowns very badly up at her, "What do you mean by that?"
She looks remorse, scrunching up her nose at the discomfort. It takes a few moments, but she collides her eyes with his - her stare doesn't seem nice, but it won't hurt Sokka. He knows this. "It's - it's nothing."
"Bullshit."
She flinches at that, and only gives him an even more dangerous look. "I said I'll tell you one day, didn't I?" She clenches her teeth and looks away, almost as if in disgust. "In the sunlight."
"Okay then," Sokka rubs the back of his neck, gives up. Before he knows it, the words are stumbling out on his own. "I believe you."
He could imagine what she must be thinking on that moment - believe? Her? Really? Man, she's really been screwing with his head. He puts his mug down on the table, stands up and offers his hand towards her. "You should go to sleep now. I'll help you."
She hesitates before slowly lacing her fingers with him. She puts the mug away and he pulls her up slowly to her feet - Azula takes a few sharp intake of air, shuddering slowly under her breath. With small steps, Sokka helps her to her door, careful not to let her fall down and crack her skull open or anything. Wouldn't want to get murdered by Zuko, now would he...
"Peppermint? Honestly?" She suddenly asks, expressionless but curious.
"Like an ice cream on lazy Summer days," he grins back at her and ignores the stupid pitch he messes up half-way through his sentence cause by the familiar tingle that's spreading all over his joints at their proximity. Spirits, someone's setting him up, he swears. This Princess might be the death of him.
And he's not even speaking literally - which, in his opinion, is more dangerous.
Next morning, Sokka finds himself getting tackled by Qu and Tovakk - cursing at them loudly for disturbing his peace, and for being in the room. "What are you guys doing?" he hisses, ruffling his hair and rubbing his eyes all at the same time, "If you're not on guard duty, you better have a fucking good explanation or else my father is going to find out about this and butcher your heads - and I sure as hell hope he'd allow those in the market, for a sell."
"Right, 'cause next to the naughty fantasy with the Fire Princess, I'm sure seeing your best friends' head at the market is your second best option to pass the time." Qu smirks down, not moving a muscle and looking like he has it all figure out. Tovakk chuckles, and Sokka throws a pillow, targeting specifically their heads.
But because it's morning and he's still a bit drowsy, his aim has been sloppy and both manages to dodge it just in time. It's Tovakk who turns around to fetch the pillow back, "Don't worry, brah. We've asked Katara's permission. She's waiting on us downstairs."
"What?" Sokka looks back up at them, frowning even more so. "What do you mean?"
"We've asked her for a day-out with you. It wasn't easy, but because of my charming and completely loveable personality, she finally gives in. C'mon, it's been too long since you hang out and be... twenty-one. You're young and you need to let out some steam, and Benji's already rounding up the gang. Everyone's pretty excited to see you again." Qu explains, looking smug while Tovakk rolls his eyes at him.
The other man throws a pillow back at Sokka and says, "Yeah. We're planning a thrown-ball fight. We need you in our team, you're the best offence there are."
Sokka momentarily reflects on the game; thrown-ball. It's not exactly the most fun game in the entire world, and it's rough and involves tackling (which is silly, because they're practically getting hurt because of a ball), but it passes the time and it serves good memory before. Sokka had fun because of it more than a couple of times. He squints back up at Tovakk, "Do we have a waterbender in our team?"
"Yeah. Qu manages to get the best: Kaka. But Korin's team got two; one of them is Tarra."
Sokka's eyes perk up, "We're up against them? Who else are in our team?"
"There's three of us, Kaka and Sini, I think."
Sokka's standing up now, tying his hair up. "We're still two person short. Put Benji and Lan in our team. They're quick. They'll sure to crack Korin's system, and I'm hoping on that charming and completely loveable personality to distract the waterbenders, Qu."
Qu grins, "That's the team leader we're hoping to roar back up. Ready to be twenty-one again?"
"I'm not twenty-one less than three weeks from now. You should know that."
"I'm rounding up the numbers here, brah. No need to be sensitive 'bout how old you're getting. The important thing is we're still young and now we can actually act like it. All the responsibilities have given me a rash lately."
"Of course you're experiencing rash - you're allergic to responsibilities. Spirits, I'm surprised you could even say that word without your tongue swelling." Tovakk shakes his head, laughing.
Qu looks on sternly. "Comedy gold, Tovakk. You deserve an award."
"That's very heartwarming, guys. I guess I missed the wedding?" Sokka snaps at them, now by the door, waiting. "Unless you want me to leave and give you two some privacy, I suggest we make it out of this lodge quick before my sister changes her mind."
Qu and Tovakk trails behind him steadily, not exactly peeping a word besides from the banter they're having. Sokka shakes his head, still trying to take these all in. He climbs down the steps and sees Katara at the living room, looking tired but steady. He greets her, and she looks up; startled at first, before she just gives him a stare. "I smacked your friend with snow."
He's gonna guess Qu isn't telling the truth about being all charming and loveable. "Not hard enough, I think. He's still alive."
"Unfortunately," Katara nods, and Qu makes a face from besides him. "I'll stay around - I have to talk to Zuko, anyway, and since none of us really have anything to attend to, we'll have all day with each other to discuss a few matters out. I'll have him home before late evening, right boys?"
Both Qu and Tovakk nods; Qu grinning childishly while Tovakk merely expressing a warm expression. Katara dismisses them and before he knows it, he's winning a game of thrown-ball with his group of friends. He grins as his team scores another round, and momentarily curses himself for forgetting how well it is to just ... hang around. Sure, his friends are obnoxious sometimes - but, honestly, who wouldn't be at that stage of an age, right - but other times, they're okay. They're fun and they tire him out just in the right way, and they get you to forget about things that used to cause him a headache.
"You throw like a girl," Qu's sister, who has the brightest eyes Sokka's ever seen, smirks at him - her whole face glinting in mischief. He seriously wants to burn a hole in Qu's lung when he forgets to mention that his sister is on the opposite team - 'cause when that girl competes, she really competes.
There's no in between.
Either she's going to wear you out that you wish you were dead, or you're very good and you'll beat her.
So far, the latter option has been on Sokka's side. He smirks back up at the eighteen-year old and once again, silently, admires the blue pupil of her eyes before drawling, "Yeah you should probably hold all insults until after I win the game, Renka. I mean, if it'll help you sleep at night."
Renka laughs, throwing her head back, "Wow. What a gentleman. And here I thought you were going to make me fall asleep tonight instead of my lonely thoughts."
"Are you offering me a one night stand?"
"If you're offering those abs, I guess I am." She teases again.
Sokka rolls his eyes though he's still grinning and dodges just in time, taking the ball before he throws it again at Tovakk, watching as the man uses his quick reflexes, Benji distracting the waterbender, and finally, a goal. The game ends. Sokka cheers and goes up to Renka, spins her around, grasps her jaw and kisses her full on the lips.
Renka is clearly surprised, but because she's smart and quick, smirks and kisses him back with just the same amount of force. Sokka pulls away just when her tongue's too eager to explore his mouth. He pants, looking back at those blue eyes, and whispers, "Just a little sneak peek of what you're not getting tonight."
She chortles and rolls her eyes as he lets her go, "Bitch."
A few guys come and claps Sokka on the back, hugging him in triumph. Qu stares at him, part gleeful, another part curious. "Did my sister teased you?"
"Yes."
"She has done that to a couple of guys and I am beginning to feel uncomfortable about it."
"You think she's casting a spell on us?"
"You betcha'. She's gathering an army of men to take me down and take the place as the head of our clan."
"As if she needs an army," Sokka laughs, getting tackled by Tovakk who's still astounded by their win. He laughs some more, now hearing as Benji announcing that he'll pay for the cactus juice.
Man, it's good to be young.
Thrown-ball do not exist, and the little kissing scene between Sokka and Renka has its purpose. I guess.
Urm, okay guys, I have an announcement: I am getting a little depressed lately about my writing - and I'm not sure if I should continue this story any further if no one's going to read it. I mean, I invest a lot of time writing this and I've neglected a few of my other stories (from my other account) just to set out this Sokka/Azula's plot development. My friends are saying that I should stop writing this, but it's just a sad idea you know because this story has an amazing story arc that I can't just pass around as if it's just another plain story. 'Cause it's not.
I have a strong morale that I'm about to break if my will-power isn't steady enough and I succumb to their ideas. (Yeah, humans do that - they get into each other's mind and poison your thoughts) I'm really frustrated right now because I'm torn between continuing a story that nobody really reads, and stop writing it before I'm disappointed. I know, at this point, you're probably viewing me as a whiny little midget, but in any case, before anything is decided and final: I would want to thank anyone who has read, reviewing, putting favourites and alerting this story - I am eternally grateful.
So okay I don't know - I'm still pondering over these and let's hope we'll see another chapter soon.
Love, Bella.