#still wished Sokka could see a baby picture of her though

[kigozula]

"I… I won't. I'll be good. I promise," Azula said, her voice small. Ozai, behind her, watched his daughter with amusement.

- Gladiator Chapter 346

The trip was much like those they often set out on, and Azula and Zuko fought throughout it as recklessly as they typically did. The nights, of course, were the better moments, as Zuko and Azula fell asleep, allowing Ozai and Ursa to bask in peace and quiet, watching the stars together on deck. It was a placid, easygoing time, and nothing seemed to get in the way of their tranquility…

Ozai reached down, clasping Azula's hand gently. The girl jolted after him, cheeks flushing with excitement as she tried to keep up with the long strides of the two taller men. Once they stood at a fair distance from the others, near the very bridge and pond Azula had fallen in, long ago, Ozai finally decided to speak his mind.

........

"I can…" Azula said, nervously. Piandao crooked an eyebrow.

"Then you would not ridicule your brother, should you best him in combat? You would not be upset, if he ridiculed you for it either?"

"Why can't I do it if he can…?" Azula mumbled. Piandao actually smiled.

"That's what you understood from that?" he asked. "Not quite the answer I was hoping for…"

"I… I won't. I'll be good. I promise," Azula said, her voice small. Ozai, behind her, watched his daughter with amusement.

[stitch1830]

Wait so imagine an AU where Kanto died a couple of months after Lin is born. Lin was obviously not old enough to remember him, but Toph gave her some pictures once she was old enough to appreciate them. Toph and Kanto out drinking with some of their buddies from the force, his arm around her and her face lit up in a laugh. Toph pregnant, huge and sweaty and uncomfortable but most certainly glowing. The happy family lying in a hospital bed together the day that Lin was born. Toph doesn’t keep the identity of her father a secret from Lin. She tells her stories about him. She tells him that he was a good man and he loved his baby girl very much, but he was taken from the world too soon.

So I think we can all agree that Sokka was like a father to Lin. Sokka certainly considers her to be his daughter, even though they aren’t blood related. He secretly wishes that she would call him “Dad,” but he knows it’s a touchy subject, so he doesn’t push. One day he finds her sitting in her room staring at the pictures. He remarks on what a good man her father was, and how he would be proud of her. This leads to her opening up about how she feels like a part of her is missing because her father died before she was old enough to even remember him. He consoles her and tells her that he knows he could never replace her father and he would never try to, but she should know that he thinks of her as a daughter and he’ll always be here for her no matter what. After this Lin cautiously begins referring to Sokka as “her dad,” just to test out how it sounds coming out of her mouth. Fast forward a few years and calling Sokka “her dad” is like second nature. Toph knows that Kanto would be greatful if he knew that Sokka was looking after his little girl since he no longer could himself.

Okay ngl G when you sent this I was about to flip a lid because I WAS THINKING OF A KANTOPH SCENARIO LIKE THIS. I'm not even gonna add to the Sokka and Lin part because that is literally just *chef's kiss* but oh my god. I have thoughts on Kantoph. (Okay I might add to the Sokka part lmao. Get ready for a ramble).

Toph tells Kanto she's pregnant by calling him Daddy or something. He thinks he's calling her some weird nickname and he's like "Toph we agreed no nicknames." But then she goes through the list of ways to call him Dad and she's like "Well you gotta pick one, unless you want the kid to call you Kanto." Cue a very sweet and fluffy moment between the two.

They've never been a couple that does a lot of PDA, but now they kind of can't help it, they're in this period of pure bliss and just are so very happy. Toph and Kanto are late risers, but he always wakes her accidentally when he tickles her belly. They love laying in bed all day and feeling the baby move. Kanto likes to run his index finger on the slope of her abdomen, and she thinks he's being ridiculous, but she always turns herself when she wakes so he can do that.

At work, she'll still be giving orders from HQ, but he'll lead the team in the field. When the metal benders leave the meeting room, Kanto lingers behind as she's sitting down. She always tells him "Stop worrying about me."// "I will when you stop worrying about me." That's just what they normally say to each other, and they have to say it before they leave. They think it's good luck.

When Lin is born, they're just in sync. They have a great rhythm and are super supportive of each other. They even joke that they're so good at this parenting thing, that they could have another. Toph's like, "You're absolutely crazy, but let's do it in a year." When Lin is 6 months old, they get into an argument or something before Kanto leaves for work since she has the day off. They talked about something that just ruffled both of their feathers and Kanto leaves, barely able to say goodbye to Lin.

Later that day, Toph gets a knock on the door and notices is a group of her officers. She's about to chew them out, but then they interrupt her and tell her it's Kanto...

She slams the door in their faces before they can see her breakdown in the middle of her hallway.

A few years later, when time has healed most wounds, Sokka is there basically every step of the way after, and she's grateful, maybe even open to loving someone again. She doesn't like the idea that someone could replace Kanto as Lin's father, but she's open to the idea of her calling Sokka something like Dad, because Kanto wanted Lin to call him Baba. There's a distinction now. He's not being replaced, but Lin's getting another father.

Now, Toph is pregnant again, and sometimes in the morning if Sokka leaves the house early, her and Lin will just chill in bed for a bit before they have to start their day. And Lin will run her finger on Toph's belly just like Kanto did, and spirits above, the pregnancy hormones got her teary-eyed and she swears that's all it is. But damn, there's so much of Kanto Toph sees in Lin, and she can't help but get a little emotional sometimes.

Damn G. I just might have to write something more about them to get it out of my system. I love your ideas. I can't get enough of this AU lmao.

[chitsangenthusiast]

good afternoon i bring with me a (slightly rough) wip of zuko getting to see his daughter for the first time after she's born <3

(featuring some zuko teasing bc the gaang can't help it even at his daughter's birth, and sokka also getting to hold her!!)

—

She’s born in the middle of a scorching summer, under the gaze of a shining moon and on a bed covered in caribou-hare pelts.

Zuko knows when she’s arrived; he’s already crossed the length of the reception room by the time the clamor behind the separating screen abruptly cuts into a breathless silence, and his heart beats in expectation when Suki pokes her head out. She’s exhausted, she’s excited, and she’s dragging him in before he can even fathom any kind of thought.

He comes in just as the midwife finishes in clearing her nose and mouth, to reveal a tiny face and the full sound of his daughter’s fair wail.

Daughter.

Zuko stumbles.

A bubble of absolute glee spills from his mouth as he’s pushed into a chair next to the bed because, from here, he has an even better view. Poking out above her little arm is a head covered in a wet smattering of dark hair and already full eyebrows, with impossibly round cheeks showing off pouting lips and red gums while she cries. She’s loud, she’s announcing her presence, she’s so small.

Zuko chokes on an exhilarated gasp. That’s his daughter.

He reaches out, then falters. As he watches her settle into the soothing warmth of bare skin, all he wants is to fall forward to her, to tuck her into him and rest his hand on her small back to feel how she lifts the entirety of her body as he cries and breathesin her first moments. But he’s not sure who he can touch or even what he can touch on the bed, and he instead throws an absentmindedly desperate hand out to stop himself from grabbing at the furs as he works to remember how to properly take in air.

Someone grabs it—Sokka, he can tell by the calluses on his fingers—and directs it down. Instantly, instinctively, Zuko splays his fingers to cradle her head and strokes his thumb over his daughter’s ear.

His hand curls perfectly around her, and he chokes on another exhilarated sob.

“Katara—”

“She’s beautiful,” Katara immediately returns. Her eyes flit up to Zuko’s, just for a moment, before sliding back down to the baby resting on her stomach. She’s holding a tiny fist in her own hand, running tired fingers up and down a forearm, and she can’t look away either. She’s crying, Zuko realizes, tears just like his own, and she shakes out little relieved sniffles when he and Sokka quickly clasp her heaving shoulders. Katara’s head falls back to the pillows—from the exhaustion, from the relief of their touch, from those strong, healthy cries—and her hand joins Zuko’s on his daughter’s head as she lets out a breathless laugh. “Oh wow, she’s really perfect, Zuko.”

“Thank you,” he gasps out, and then no other words come. His face is a reservoir of open gratitude even when he can’t get anything else out, he knows Katara understands him when she lightly runs a thumb against his hand in response to his spasming grip on her shoulder.

Thank you.

Aang is let in shortly after, buzzing out of his body as he rushes to Katara’s side, with Azula jumping at the chance to barrel inside too. He’s been through this before with Bumi, but his hands still shake slightly as he cups her face and leans down to kiss her forehead with a long, deep inhale. Katara reaches out a free hand to hold onto him, and just smiles at the comfort of his happiness.

Her other hand is still in Zuko’s grasp. He hasn’t been able to bring himself to let go just yet, even after moving to the other side of the bed so that his good ear could better pick up her murmuring, or after her careful transfer of his daughter into his his bare arms, and now together they hold onto an exposed arm left out of the blanket.

Snatches of conversation happen around him, slight jostling occurs as everyone works on the after care, but Zuko is captivated only by the bundle in his arms. Their eyes are locked—she looks up at Zuko, and he stares right back. When Katara has to let go, he takes over to admire his daughter with his thumb, tracing it across her plump jawline, smoothing down the soft hair on her head and over her eyebrows.

Toward the end of the pregnancy, when Aang and Katara came to stay at the palace to prepare, Zuko used to sometimes stare at her. It was hard, trying to imagine what a child between them would look like, and a niggling thought that circled in the back of his mind—quietly, in a determined attempt to not let it fester too much—had him wishing, hoping that his daughter would have more of Katara in her than him. Beyond possibly gold-tinted eyes, what worth did his ancestry have to offer in the face of so much goodness from Katara’s?

(He got scolded for ruminating over this, then given an extremely long hug, and then scolded again for his incessant doting over a Katara who did not need to be doted over, much to Aang’s cackling amusement and Zuko’s embarrassed chagrin.)

But his daughter looks so much like him, and in such a breathtakingly sweet way that leaves him stunned. He can see the small flicks of her eyes moving as they roam over his face; they’re so light in color, tawny almost like how Azula’s were when she was born, and he wonders if they’ll be bright like his or darken into a strong amber like Uncle’s. She also has his nose, a wide little thing that he can’t help but bop a finger against, and her cheeks may be big but Zuko thinks she has his chin.

“It’s crazy how alert she already is,” Aang says, smiling as he peeks down at her across the bed. “I hope her cries get louder though, she needs those firebender lungs so she can shout like you can, Zuko.”

“Don’t do that to me,” Azula instantly scoffs, taking her place next to her brother, then smirks at his lukewarm glare. “I can only handle one loudmouth at a time, and Zuzu is plenty already.”

“Hey—”

Sokka snorts, and responds faster than Zuko can continue. “Well, when she’s right, she’s right.”

Suki overtakes their snickering with a bright burst of laughter, and his daughter’s head rolls toward the noise. “I thought blessings for babies by airbenders were supposed to be good-natured?”

“Oh, sure,” Aang laughs as he takes a cool cloth from her to wipe at Katara’s neck. “She will have a loving heart, an inquisitive mind, and a steadfast head on her shoulders that will push her through anything she sets herself to achieve. But I also hope she gets a set of good strong lungs, just so Zuko can see what we’ve put up with over the years.”

“Can you all be nice to me for five seconds,” Zuko grumps lightly. “I’m literally holding my child right now.”

“I think Aang’s gonna be right too,” Sokka happily jumps back in, dropping a heavy hand on Zuko’s shoulder as he leans over him to coo into her space. “She’s already got his frown.”

“Sokka!” Katara chides, but her laughter is still the loudest above everyone else’s at the falsely disgruntled scowl they receive—which is indeed replicated perfectly on that little face. “You know you can’t say things like that, or she’s going to end up looking like you!”

Sokka just chuckles, and the happy sound thrums through Zuko’s nerves. He’s pulled back already, giving him room to curl around his daughter like she’ll be able to protect him from the teasing—and Zuko forcibly swallows down the heavy desire to pull him back in.

“If that happens, it’ll only be because we look like, Katara.”

“Alright, move over punks!” Toph is as gleefully brash as ever when she steps into room with Lin on her hip and Iroh following close behind her, but Zuko can see the excitement lighting up her face as she beelines over. “Stop hogging the kid!”

Suki makes quick work to take Lin from her while Aang moves to pull Bumi from Iroh’s arms, and the four of them maneuver themselves onto the bed around Katara. She grouses lightly, but still looks incredibly contented to now have her son within arm’s reach. Iroh moves to take up residence on Zuko’s free side next to Sokka, and rests his hand on Zuko’s other shoulder.

“Oh, nephew,” he breathes out in deep admiration, and Zuko can feel his elation all the way down to his bones. “What a remarkable little beauty you have there.”

“Do you want to hold her?” he asks, after Iroh has showered Katara with a slew of his own sincere appreciation. Katara shies a little at the praise, but her smile remains firm even as her eyes droop slightly, and Zuko has a feeling Aang may soon kick them all out into another room to let her sleep.

Iroh’s steady joy though is infectious, and the room alights with an even more blanketing warmth from it. He reaches out eagerly to gingerly take her into his arms, and his eyes shine as he coos down at his granddaughter.

“Welcome to the world, little one,” Iroh hums, “There are great things in store for you here, just you wait and see.”

Azula gets to hold her next. Not for as long as their uncle, too nervous to hold something so tiny yet also noticeably too unwilling to give her up, and Zuko feels his eyes start to prick as sheer happiness crashes over him at the sight.

Sokka is the third one, composure fully cracked and delighted tears flowing as he wetly hiccups between stunned laughter.

“What an awesome little kid,” he says, his watery grin is as wide as his eyes. He then carefully cradles one of her hands into his palm, and welcomes her with a gentle handshake.

“Hello, Izumi,” he murmurs, and Zuko’s heart sings. “It’s so good to finally see you.”

Zuko doesn’t have anything to say in response, burstingly overwhelmed.

Instead, he quietly marvels at how well Izumi fits into his arms as he brushes a finger over one of her eyebrows. He glances up, to commit to memory the full picture of them together—their eyes catch, and his breath hitches at the deep adoration he spies in those blue eyes.

Sokka shakes himself a beat later, and looks back down at Izumi with a blazing grin.

“Man, you really do look just like your dad, don’t you, little princess?”

She does, but she undeniably has pieces of Katara in her too. Her complexion is slightly darker, and there’s already a slight wave to her hair that Zuko idly traces in amazement. He’s somewhat certain she has Katara’s lips too, and she hasn’t smiled yet but the thought that she could also end up with that same spirited smile makes his chest ache in private joy. It’s thrilling, the notion that even when his friend isn’t around, Zuko will still be able to see her signature grin light up the Fire Nation.

Zuko glances back up while Sokka continues to look down at his daughter.

He allows himself a moment to stare.

And carefully, very carefully, he thinks about how Katara and Sokka have the same smile.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

From Chin To Yon Rah (Part 38)

Being sick is very different in a small village than it is in the palace. Illness is never comfortable but it is even less pleasant when the pillows aren’t as plush and fluffy and when she doesn’t have the security of physicians to monitor and care for her nearly every minute.

In Wujing she has to walk to see Min-Min. She is lucky that Hajime is willing to make that walk for her. But while he is gone, there is no one to tend to her, no one to make sure that she is still breathing. No one but Atsu whose idea of helping is occasionally feeling her forehead and declaring, “mmhmm, you’re still sick. I dieg-nose you with not healthy” before springing off the bed to fetch her soup. Soup that is lukewarm at best and clumsily delivered--she now has several wet spots on her sheets to add to her discomfort. He stands on his tiptoes and pushes the bowl onto the nightstand, spilling even more of the broth onto it. He takes the spoon and holds it out to her, dripping broth on to her collar and nightdress.

Azula bites her tongue, it takes all of her will power and then some to not snap at the boy. The boy who is only trying his best to care for her. She parts her lips before Atsu can splatter soup all over her face. She has to admit that he isn’t such a terrible cook. If only he didn’t make great messes while doing so.

“Did I do good!?” He shouts, putting an even deeper pounding into her head.

“You did fine, Atsu.” She coughs. With each cough comes a throbbing like the strides of a soldier, heavy of armor and step. She massages her temples as Atsu holds out the spoon again. This time he holds it too far and she has to crane her neck to reach it. This is how Azula endures the better part of an hour until Atsu hums to himself and declares, “maybe I should hand you the bowl!”

She wishes that he had handed her the spoon or a pair of chopsticks to go with it. Instead--desperate for the soothing warmth and the favors it does for her sore throat--she drinks straight from the bowl. She can practically see father, Zuzu, Mai, TyLee, and everyone she had ever known balking at the unbecoming sight.

She puts the bowl aside and lays her head back all while the spills on the dresser and on her skin drive her mad. She longs to fetch herself a napkin but, spirits, she is so weak. Her pounding head is spinning faintly and she thinks that just trying to stand will leave her feeling entirely nauseous.

She knows that this is it. That this is where she will meet her end. The mighty and proud Azula will have her demise at the hands of an apparently common Earth Kingdom cold.

She bunches in on herself, her stomach does all sorts of flips and flops and she swears that she is going to throw up. She doesn’t even want to move an inch. This is how Hajime finds her. He sighs, apparently noting the mess on the dresser and her skin. “Atsu, you made a big mess!”

“Sorry dad.” He mumbles from the other room.

“Don’t apologize to me!” He rolls his eyes. “You git in ‘ere and ‘pologize to Rikka.”  He shakes his head with a small laugh. “Sorry about Atsu, he was just trying to help. He used to do that to his ma…” he washes away the splotches of soup.

Sometimes Azula wonders about Hajime’s old wife. He talks about her often enough but has never once mentioned a name. She can never bring herself to ask. She doesn’t want to open old wounds. She can’t imagine what it would be like to have a lover die. She can’t imagine that she will ever have to, not when there is no face to picture. At least there is one perk to being unlovable, she will never know that kind of pain.

And yet, Hajime makes her feel like she isn’t unlovable. The way he dabs at her forehead with that wet cloth. The way he smiles at her and brushes her hair out of her face. The way that he assures her that it wouldn’t bother him if he caught her cold while taking care of her. The way that he takes care of her.

It is very different to have someone other than royal physicians to tend to her. She finds that it is significantly less indifferent and methodical. Hajime holds her hand while checking her temperature. He strokes her hand while she drinks her medicine down. He reads to her as she struggles to find sleep.

He is not there when she wakes though. And neither is Hajime. What she finds instead is a prepared meal, her medication, and a note reading, ‘taking Atsu to school and heading to work.’

She understands but wishes all the same that she wouldn’t have to endure this alone. Her stomach isn’t quite as delicate today but the pounding in her head brings tears to her eyes. Involuntary tears, but tears no less. To think that her own body is betraying her like this…

By mid afternoon she is certain, this time for sure, that she will die. That Hajime will find her corpse, still warm, in the bed when he gets back. She sits up to take her medication and the nausea comes back with a vengeance. She doubles over, just barely making it to the sink before heaving.

Yes, this is definitely what death feels like. She slumps to the floor, mouth dry, stomach still queasy, and head still beating. Her body shakes.

She knows that it has been at least an hour, possibly longer than that even. She can’t just stay on the bathroom floor, but every time she moves she feels sicker still. Even so, she forces herself up onto her hands and knees. She takes a deep breath and tries to fight off the dizziness.

Spirits, just what kind of sickness has she contracted? WuJing isn’t exactly a peasant town--well it is in that it is a village for commoners, but it isn’t the dirty, disease riddled variety.

She feels arms under her shoulders. Arms that help her to her feet and a body to lean on. “Hajime?” She inquires weakly. But the body is too small to be Hajime. It is too large to be Atsu. “Seukhyun?” But no, it is too small to be Seukhyun too.

“Not quite.”  Replies the man.

If her nose weren’t so backed up she could have easily smelled turnip on him. Ojihara helps her into bed and uncorks the medicine bottle for her. “Your food’s all col’. I’ll fix you somethin’ new to eat.”

“Okay.” She says, her voice has been reduced to little more than a hoarse whisper.

“You got it bad, don’cha?” He clicks his tongue. “‘S a good thing I came to check on you.”

She can’t disagree. She nuzzles her face against the pillow and clutches her fingers around the bed sheets.

“I have a special remedy that my own grandfather passed down from me. S a secret one…” Ojihara calls from the kitchen. “But it works e’ry time. Seukhyun would cry like a baby when he got sick, this stuff fixed ‘im up good as new.”

Azula decides that she will have to remember to bring that up next time she sees Seukhyun. Not that she hasn’t been doing a decent share of crying herself. He doesn't have to know that.

“Thank you, Ojihara.” She mumbles as she curls her fingers around the cup. She sure hopes that this remedy tastes better than it smells.

She feels absolutely horrible and, by all means, the medications and treatments aren’t as effective in Wujing. And yet, somehow, she thinks that she would rather fall ill here than at the palace. The warmest blankets at the palace aren’t as warm as the company that cares for her here.

That day she learns that a moment of vulnerability will strengthen her in the long run.

.oOo.

The icy howling of the wind alone is enough to drive her grief out and freeze her guilty conscience. There isn’t much room to think pessimistically when the only thing on her mind is how painfully and aggravatingly cold it is.

“How do you people live like this?” She shives, wrapping her arms around herself.

“We bundle up adequately for one thing.” Sokka chuckles. “Here.” He holds out a heavier parka.

“I’m already wearing one.”

“But you’re not used to this weather. And where are your mittens?”

“In my pockets, I was having trouble picking things up.”

“You’ll have more trouble picking things up if you lose all of your fingers.” He snatches her hand and shoves it into a mitten. “And pull your hood up!” He doesn’t give her the chance, instead he tugs it over her head. So far that the fur obscures most of her vision. She slips the second mitten on and moves the hood to a more optimal resting place.

“For someone so smart you sure are…”

“I’ve never been to the Tribes before. I didn’t realize that it would be this cold.” Until now such biting weather has been entirely unfathomable to her. She had always thought that the sun was radiant enough to cast heat everywhere. The sun in the Tribes seems so much weaker than it is in the Fire Nation where it beams down upon her with the same merciless brutality as the people under its rays. “I don’t think...it shouldn’t be possible for a place to be so cold.”

Sokka laughs again. “It can’t be sunny everywhere.”

And in most places in her life, it isn’t. Most things in her life are somehow colder than even this. Than even the sort of weather that has her locks stiff and tinged with frost. She shivers. She wants her world to be warm and cozy again. She wants such in every conceivable way; physically and emotionally.

Sokka cups her cheeks, at the very least, his hands are warm. It puts a tickle in her tummy. A tickle that grows in intensity at the dull reminder that she can be warm and cozy again if she lets herself be. “Can we go inside now?” She mutters. “This snow is up to my knees and I’m tired of walking in it.”

Sokka nods. “That’s what snow shoes are for.” He gestures to his feet.

“Those look hard to walk in.”

“Harder than trudging through mounds of snow that are taller than you?” He quirks a brow.

She fights to keep a pout off of her face. He laughs and ruffles her hair before scooping her into his arms. She hadn’t imagined that, that would be the first thing that Katara has seen of her in several years. And she isn’t sure if it is a good impression or not.

Her eyes lock upon Azula. They follow her across the room to where Sokka sits her down in front of a fire.

“Where’s dad?”

“He’s out fishing with Bato. What’s she doing here.” Katara nods in her direction.

“Wweeell...I was hoping to reintroduce her to you and dad.”

Katara’s brows furrow. “You’re not serious, Sokka! I don’t want to talk to her again.”

“She’s different now, she…”

“I don’t care how different she is!” She practically spits the word care.

“You didn’t care how different Zuko was either…”

“Zuko didn’t kill Aang.”

“He tried to.” Azula points out, quite unhelpfully in the grander scheme of things. At the very least, the woman will be speaking about her to her instead of to Sokka. At least that was the hope…

“Zuko...he was confused. She knew exactly what she was doing.”

She wishes that the same could be said now. Sokka comes to stand beside her and rests an arm on her shoulder. She wonders if he can sense her unease through touch alone. She already feels like a monster, she doesn’t need more confirmation of that.

“Just give her a chance, Katara.”

“She’s already had one and she spent it trying to kill her own mother.”

Azula cringes.

“Well this time she’s ready for another chance.”

But she doesn’t think that she can ever be truly prepared. Not for something like this. It doesn’t matter how hard she tries nor how she arranges her deck. Briefly she wonders if it would be better to chance freezing to death than speaking to Katara a moment longer.

“I’m not ready to give her one.”

“Katara…”

“Why do you care about her all of the sudden, Sokka. Remember what she did to Suki?”

“It isn’t really sudden.” Sokka rubs the back of his head. “I’ve been talking to her for a while now and she’s…” he trails off. “She’s actually kind of a sweet person.”

“I am not.” She grumbles.

“Believe it or not, she’s pretty good with kids.” Azula is certain that he has sensed her discomfort this time because he shares a half truth. “Ursa, ya know, her mom…”

“I know who Ursa is, Sokka.”

“Ursa has this kid…”

Katara rolls her eyes, “I was there, Sokka.” She folds her arms across her chest.

“Well Azula gets along with Kiyi and Kiyi’s, uh, friend, Caihong.” Sokka nods, seemingly pleased with his white lie. “Azula really like Caihong and Caihong is an earthbender. And that’s good because Azula used to only talk to earthbenders if they were Dai Li agents…”

Spirts, she can’t remember the last time she had felt such an intense secondhand embarrassment. She wonders if Katara would buy that the color on her cheeks is the product of cold alone.

“Why do you care about her?” Katara asks again.

“Talk her and find out.” Sokka musters up a smile. “You’ll understand why, if you do.”

[jaxsteamblog]

Hidden

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In the morning, Katara walked into the kitchen to see Suki draped on Sokka as he cooked something at the stove. Her arms were around his waist and her chin perched on his shoulder. They swayed together and then there was a pop before a streak of Sokka’s swearing.

“You’re at least wearing a shirt while making bacon right?” Katara asked as she sat on one of the stools at the small island. Suki turned around and smiled at her, letting Katara see that her brother was appropriately attired.

“Want some coffee?” She asked and Katara nodded.

“So that was a lot.” Suki said as she poured coffee into two mugs. Still swaying around the kitchen, she opened the fridge with her foot, held onto the mugs by their handles in one hand, and grabbed a container of creamer with the other. Using her hip to close the door, Suki hummed a little bit before putting everything down next to Katara.

“You’re in a good mood.” Katara remarked and Suki beamed at her before turning again to open a drawer. Sokka turned into her place, depositing strips of bacon onto a plate padded with paper towels.

“A lot is happening.” Suki said cheerfully, returning with small spoons. They started to make their coffee while Sokka returned to the stove, swiftly cracking eggs into a bowl.

“Too much.” Sokka added gruffly and Suki rolled her eyes as she leaned over the island, holding her mug up in her hands. She still drank hers black, as they all had when running through war zones, but Katara liked the extravagance of cream and sugar. She sometimes took it a step further and splurged on flavored creamer.

“So, the Blue Spirit huh?” Suki asked over the rim of her mug, raising her eyebrows before taking a sip. Katara scoffed but took a drink as well.

“It’s not a big deal.” She replied.

“I don’t know, I remember you being awfully reluctant to talk about the help you got at the river factory.” Suki said.

“That was years ago and doesn’t matter any more.” Katara replied.

“Do you think he still has the mask?” Suki asked.

“SUKI!” Both Sokka and Katara yelled in unison.

“What? I do.” Zuko interjected.

Katara groaned, slapping her palm to her face as he took a seat next to her.

“It was my mother’s. I wasn’t going to get rid of it.” Zuko continued.

“You absolutely should have. That is going to be the thing that ignites a coup you know, when someone like your sister finds it.” Sokka said, bringing over a platter of scrambled eggs.

“I’m not worried. But hey, it makes sense now why you’re always thinking about that kind of stuff. I guess you’re a prince like me now, huh?” Zuko remarked. Katara looked up to see Sokka give him a withering look.

“I don’t like talking about that.” He said firmly, almost angrily.

Katara turned her face away, but still saw Suki go to him, putting a hand on Sokka’s back before leaning her head onto his shoulder.

Sokka was a lot like their father and fell in love quickly. And it was hard enough for anyone not to have fallen in love with the radiant light that filled Yue.

“And the royal family isn’t really going to work like that anymore. Apparently, Arnook is going to invoke some ancient law that says only a Waterbender can inherit the throne. If Katara doesn’t have a magic water baby, I get nothing.” Sokka said, sounding calmer.

“What if you have a magic water baby?” Zuko asked.

Sokka and Suki looked at each other; he chuckled while Suki smiled.

“Two non-Benders? One of whom is from a long line of people living in Kyoshi?” Suki replied.

“Doesn’t the Fire Nation have something like that though?” Katara asked.

“Sort of. It’s a mix of bending ability and bloodline. If I were to have a non-Bender heir, it might still work out considering I’m the descendent of Avatar Roku.” Zuko answered.

“Excuse me? You’re what?” Katara asked.

“Are you serious? You still haven’t looked up anything about me?” Zuko asked.

“There’s a whole HummFeed Unsolved about the disappearance of his mother.” Sokka said. Zuko winced.

“And I don’t like talking about that.” He said, then sighed. “Plus, that episode is banned in the Fire Nation. She wouldn’t be able to watch it here anyway.”

“Okay, let’s just air everything out. No more secrets, no more hidden knowledge.” Katara said and turned to Zuko. “Give me the rundown.”

“Ah, okay. Um.” He stammered and ran a hand through his hair. “My father is the Fire Lord, I’m his heir, but I was also the vigilante known as the Blue Spirit that tried to disrupt imperial forces. After the war, I went to college under a fake name to study, met Sokka, we survived an assassination attempt when I was discovered, and so my uncle paid for his store in thanks for his saving my life.”

“WHAT? YOU SURVIVED A WHAT?” Katara faced her brother who, holding a forkful of eggs, shrugged and continued eating.

“What about you?” Zuko asked as Katara vigorously rubbed her face.

“Sokka and I left home to find our parents and we quickly got tagged by the Fire Nation navy when they found us on the wrong side of a blockade. We escaped with the help of the Kyoshi Warriors, but they trailed us to the North Pole thinking that I was,” Katara drifted and Sokka stood rigid.

“Kat, you don’t have to-” He started but she held up a hand.

“Fair is fair.” She replied.

“They thought I was the Avatar.” Katara continued. “So when they attacked the North Pole and Zhao, did what he did, I made a pact with the ocean spirit and dragged him down into a canal to drown him.”

“What.” Sokka croaked.

Tears fell down her cheeks but she smiled, her breathing hitched and ragged.

“Afterward, not finding either of our parents, we went from prison to prison to find them. Along the way we met up with Suki and her people. Suki got arrested and ended up in the same prison as my father, so two birds, one stone. Then we got into another prison and found my mother. And Hama.” Katara stared into her coffee, stirring the liquid slowly. “I learned things that still haunt me, my mother died, and now that I’m saying all of this out loud, I probably have PTSD.”

“Katara, you burned eight prisons to the ground and you’re a Waterbender.” Sokka said. “Yeah, I think you might have a little PTSD.”

Katara laughed but they all very quickly fell silent. Sniffling, Katara wiped her eyes and slapped her hands on the island counter top.

“But none of that is going to get fixed today so I’d like some breakfast and more beach time.” She said.

“I’m down.” Suki said.

“I don’t feel like that’s the healthiest course of action.” Zuko said weakly.

“Oh yeah? You got a Ph.D. in psychology to help out with that? Or did you study PoliSci?” Sokka retorted.

Zuko and Sokka started to bicker while Suki got plates for everyone, handing one to Katara and giving her a one armed hug. Kissing Katara’s cheek, Suki leaned her head against hers.

“You okay Tara?” She asked. Katara shrugged and pressed her head back toward Suki’s.

“Yeah. I’ll talk to someone when I get home though.” She replied.

“Good.” Suki said and dumped a large scoop of eggs onto Katara’s plate, making it tip away from her. “I know a good veteran’s group in Ba Sing Se.”

After breakfast, Katara got her wish and they started packing up for the beach. This time, Suki unearthed an instant camera from her suitcase. She started to take pictures, shaking the wobbly film as she avoided Sokka in the hall. Her laughing shrieks made Katara relax but she was still surprised when Suki thrust the camera into her hands.

“I need you to be in charge of this for awhile.” Suki said and winked before lowering a pair of sunglasses on her face.

Right as they were about to head down, Katara stood in the back sunroom. Zuko stood on just the other side of the screen, looking down into the cooler. Slowly lifting the camera, Katara took a picture of his peering thoughtfully down into the ice. At the snap, Zuko looked up and smiled.

“You look awfully contemplative.” Katara remarked.

“One always has to consider the most effective way to move supplies.” Zuko said.

“You guys ready?” Sokka asked, tossing a towel at Katara before pushing open the screen door.

This beach day was much calmer. Katara swam while the others stayed in the shallows. Suki moved through the water, her pants rolled up as she bent over picking up shells.

As Katara waded up through the water, Suki gestured with her head and winked. Confused, Katara wrung out her hair as she walked to the towels. As she sat down, Zuko came and sat beside her.

“I got kicked out.” He said and Katara looked down at Sokka and Suki. They were standing close together and Suki was pulling shells out of her bucket.

“Hand me the camera.” Katara said. Quiet, Zuko fumbled through their bag and handed Katara the camera.

As she raised it, she saw Suki look up and toward her.

Katara took a picture of Suki showing Sokka the bucket. She handed Zuko the picture. She took a picture as Suki pulled out a shell. She handed the undeveloped picture to Zuko. She took a picture as Suki knelt in the sand. She took a picture of Sokka putting his hands in his hair. She took a picture as Sokka fell on Suki.

“Did she just…?” Zuko asked. Katara lowered the camera and nodded.

Zuko started to laugh and Katara smiled as Sokka and Suki got back onto their feet. When the two came up to the towels, Katara could see her brother shaking.

“Congratulations!” Zuko said and Sokka fell onto his knees before plopping facedown on his towel.

“Since we were getting everything out in the air.” Suki said and sat down, rubbing circles on Sokka’s back.

“Let me see.” Katara said, poking Sokka in the ribs. He flopped out his arm and Katara picked up his hand. The band was titanium with a Water Tribe motif carved around the ring in the middle.

“That’s amazing.” Katara said and then looked over at Suki. “Sorry for making your morning so depressing.”

Suki let out a breathy laugh.

“That’s what it always was though right? Falling in love with the world falling apart?” She said and looked down at Sokka. “We take the good with the bad. Pain is a part of life.”

Sokka turned his head to lay on his cheek, looking up at Suki.

“Well isn’t this just adorable.” A chilled woman’s voice said. Zuko’s eyes widened and Katara turned to look.

Azula, Mai, and another woman stood, looking back.

“Still taking the good with the bad?” Sokka groaned.

“This world likes to test me.” Suki said.

Their beach day was cut short and Zuko closed himself in an office with Azula. The rest of the group could hear them shouting, but Mai looked bored. The third woman had introduced herself as Ty Lee and looked strained enough for two people.

“So why are you all here?” Sokka asked.

“Azula found out Zuko was here and decided to drop in.” Ty Lee said with a massive dose of forced cheer.

“It was mostly that she found out he was here with you.” Mai said, looking pointedly at Katara.

“And how’d she find that out?” Katara retorted.

“I’m allowed to talk about where my boyfriend is.” Mai said.

Katara put her hands on the back of a chair and ice formed around her fingers. Noticing the chill, she took a deep breath and pried her fingers free.

“I’m not going to be here for this.” She stated. Pushing the chair away, Katara marched toward the front door.

“Katara.” Sokka called out.

“I need some space.” She said gently. “I’m sorry I keep walking away.”

Suki held onto Sokka’s arm and he held her hands.

“We’ll be okay.” Suki said.

Katara walked out of the beach house and into the wide cul-de-sac. The other beach houses were spread out, quietly ignoring each other to create the illusion of isolated privacy. Sand soaked the lawns and covered sidewalks, making Katara’s flip flops slip over the surface and spray grit up the back of her legs.

Taking a walk wasn’t exactly what she had in mind. It wasn’t what drew her, and she quickly abandoned her route. Taking a wide berth around the house, Katara skidded down the sand dunes and walked to their part of the beach. Hiding behind a dune, she shed her clothes and darted to the water.

Here she could think.

Katara spent a few hours in the water, her thoughts slowly floating through her mind. Nothing really came from it, except that she realized she needed to think more about a few things. It felt like she kept trying to walk away from a lot.

As the sun started to inch toward the horizon, Katara got out of the water. With her bending, she dried herself and pulled on her clothes. While not damp, they were still covered in sand and she grimaced.

Heading up the stairs, Katara sighed but froze as she heard voices.

“Why are you talking to me about this?” Mai asked.

“Right, I should definitely talk to Sokka about my feelings toward his sister.” Zuko said.

Katara looked around, hearing the voices advance, and she darted into the outdoor shower. She pulled the curtain closed as the porch door creaked open.

“Well you absolutely shouldn’t be talking to your girlfriend about your feelings toward another woman.” Mai remarked.

Leaning against one wall, Katara peered out of the gap from the weathered curtain. Mai and Zuko sat on the small steps leading down to the sandy space before the dunes.

Zuko looked uncomfortable and Mai sighed.

“No, I get it. I do.” She insisted and pushed Zuko’s shoulder. “I used to have a crush on Sokka.”

Katara covered her mouth and nose, stopping her attempt to gasp. Zuko looked just as stunned.

“What?” He asked.

Mai blushed a bit, turning her face away and tucking her hair behind an ear.

“It was when you started college. I always liked the idea of being with someone,” Her blush deepened and she kept her hand at her ear, slightly shielding her face. “Silly.”

“Silly?” Zuko repeated in absolute shock.

Mai covered her face and actually made a strangled noise that sounded like amusement.

“It’s just, I never experience life like that!” She said and opened her hands. “People like him and Ty Lee make everything more colorful.”

“And I’m not silly?” Zuko asked.

Mai leaned her head back, looking at him from an angle.

“Zuko, you’re awkward and soft. Our relationship has made me feel like I’m swimming in pudding.” Mai said and turned in her seat.

“Ouch.” Zuko replied and winced.

“Katara is dramatic, strong-willed, and, from what I’ve been hearing, she’s kind. You don’t need someone that’s your opposite, you need someone that compliments you.” Mai laid her hands down on her lap, palms up. “We were put together because of politics and I know I can be happy with you. But will you be happy with me?”

Zuko looked down at her hands and slowly put his on top of hers.

“I don’t think I can.” He said softly.

“But you’ll do the honorable thing and marry me anyway. Forever miserable but never straying to make sure you don’t make me lose face.” Mai said. Zuko sighed and his shoulders sagged.

“I don’t really know what to do here.” He said.

“I can’t make any choices for you. But I’m your friend Zuko. I’ll help you figure it out, no matter what you choose.” She laughed and looked down at their hands. “It’s not like I haven’t stood up to my parents before.”

“Thank you Mai.” Zuko said.

“You can thank me after you actually made a decision. Which, knowing you, will take a stupidly long time since you’re-”

“-soft and awkward. Yeah, I got it.”

They laughed and Katara felt her chest tighten.

“I’m going to go back inside and get your sister to leave.” Mai said and leaned in, kissing Zuko’s cheek. “Try not to burn anything down.”

“One time!” Zuko remarked as Mai stood up.

Katara pressed her back against the wall of the shower and stared up at the open sky above her. Water dripped slowly from the shower head, hitting the sandy floor with heavy splats.

It did feel a little bit like she was walking through pudding.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

[thisentertaining]

As the Blue Spirit Howls - Chapter 2

STORY SUMMARY: 

Zuko was not a good shifter.

Azula could switch between her wolf and human skins between steps. Not Zuko, he needed several minutes before he even started the shift, and that was on a good day. If it had been Azula who Animal Control found in that alley, they would have walked away convinced that their eyes had played a trick on them. There had never been a dog there.

But Zuko's long transformation would have only revealed his kind to the world. Father may think he has no honor, but he wouldn't stoop so low as that. Even if that meant being dumped in animal shelter, trapped as much by the 24/7 security cameras as by the cage bars.

He had the worst luck. -

"Come on guys!" Aang said as he lead his friends through the clamoring barks of the shelter. "I want to show you my favorite dog! He's a sweetheart."

Aang lead the pair to where a monstrous beast of a dog was growling with raspy barks loud enough to drown out the rest of the shelter. His bright white teeth contrasted against golden eyes and a bright red scar that stretched over the side of his face as he lunged against the cage door.

Sokka laughed nervously. "Did the word 'sweetheart' change meaning when I wasn't looking?"

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

Read on Ao3

Zuko’s ears (well, his good ear) fell back against his skull and he couldn’t help letting out a little whine. Immediately he told himself to get a hold of himself, and straightened, but the roaring emotions within him sent his ear back again. For several moments, he was deaf to the world around him, as his ear flicked back and forth from upright and proud to cowering back against his head.

This… this wasn’t fair. He’d spent months looking for Avatar, going without sleep or meals, getting into fights with gangsters, running from the police, spending every cent he could earn or steal to pay for bribes or information.

He’d run himself into the ground, relaxed long held morals, given everything he had and it had amounted to nothing. Less than nothing, it had amounted to him being homeless, nearly starved, fresh from a beating, half drunk because the only liquid he could find were some puddles of beer outside a sketchy bar. It had been the lowest point in his life, certainly low enough to realize that his father would never accept him back after he’d fallen so far.

More importantly, he’d been low enough to indulge in the self-pity he tried so hard to deny himself, allowed himself to think the traitorous thought that he had only fallen so far because his father had pushed him off a cliff. With one eye blindfolded. Fathers shouldn’t do that, but his had without hesitation. Then, he’d forced himself to admit even further that in his ‘Zuko Alone’ period, he had started to doubt that he even wanted to go back.

He had been told that Avatar was being paid some rival to FireNation Inc., someone who had gone to the police with convincing lies on their lips that would paint their company as one with their hands firmly entrenched in dozens of criminal pies. He’d been told that the witness would lay false claim to seeing FireNation Inc involved in everything from drug trafficking to weaponizing criminal groups. Zuko’s search had brought him among the worst of mankind, individuals who made him nauseous to speak to and sick to work with.

They had all spoken his father’s name with familiarity.

Zuko never wanted to see them again, wished they were behind bars, and Father worked with them. If he were ever to actually become the owner of the company as he was training to do, he would be expected to work with them as well.

He didn’t want that.

So, on that night in the alley, hitting rock bottom at his lowest point, he’d reasoned that giving up on his quest, giving up on proving himself to his father, couldn’t make him go any lower. So he had.

And now, now here he was, Avatar cross legged in front of him, right there, right after Zuko had given up.

What does that mean? Was the universe rewarding him for forsaking his family? Giving him what he wanted in return for his new mindset? After all, the Avatar before him didn’t match up to Zuko’s constant imaginings. It was hard to picture this child as anyone’s go-to for planting false evidence. Based on what Zuko knew now, it was likely that the boy had truly seen every shred of evidence that Ozai denied.

Or was it saying that he shouldn’t give up? That he had a real chance to go back to his old life and should fight for it? After kicking him down for his entire life, was the universe finally allowing him to catch a break.

Because if Zuko could prove himself to Father, maybe he could make a difference. If he gave Father the Avatar, he would have to realize that Zuko was worthy of the family business. That he wasn’t the screw up that his latest report card claimed. If he had Ozai’s trust, his ear, then he could convince his father that they didn’t need to be doing any of these shady dealings, that FireNation was strong enough to stand on its own, legitimately.

All it would take was betraying the kind of kid who sat next to supposedly abused dogs for hours until they let him touch them.

Zuko whined again, ears laid back. It was much harder to hide his emotions in this form, though he wasn’t necessarily good at it in either. The girl, Aang had called her Katara, gently shushed him and scratched along his back in an attempt to comfort him. The motion cleared his mind a bit.

No, he couldn’t think about that. The important thing was, this was Zuko’s chance to prove himself to his father, to get back to his family and make a difference. He would have to be carful though, not rush things as he had in the past. While he had known nothing of the Avatar’s identity, he had been too sloppy (or too desperate) for the same to be true of him. He knew Fong knew what his human form looked like, and knew that Zuko was seeking them.

He had to think of a way to get Aang into a position that his capture would be assured, but he couldn’t risk getting discovered in the meantime. It was good that he knew Avatar’s identity, but he couldn’t let him slip through his fingers again. He had to be smart about this. He had to-

Suddenly, Aang’s arms were wrapped around his neck. He yelped and snapped at the unexpected contact, but the boy simply continued his… embrace?

His hold.

“Please!” The boy was begging his companions. “Director Kuei said that he would fast track the foster application!”

The girl looked skeptical. “Aang, we just said-“

“But this is different!” The boy interrupted. This would be fostering Blue Spirit, not adopting him.”

“And the difference is…” Sokka asked.

“He’s still up for adoption! We would keep him at our house, but his picture and information would still be on the site! That way the cage is available for new dogs, but we can bring him back to meet anyone who sees his picture and is interested in adopting him!”

Neither of the other children said anything, but they glanced awkwardly at Zuko. The werewolf felt his lips curling up in a snarl. He knew what they were thinking, he’d seen himself in the reflective silver bowls that the shelter used. The horrendous scar that covered half of his face would have been hardship enough for a dog seeking a forever home. It was puckered and ugly red, a blighted spot where no fur would grow. One of his eyes was permanently squinting and one ear was shriveled and clearly useless. It was huge and impossible to ignore.

Beyond that however, the Shift was as magical as it was physical, fueled by concentration, focus, self-actualization and self-worth. The more control on had of themselves and their emotions, the more effective the shift. It was why his sister had been so skilled, and why his had taken longer and longer ever since the disappearance of his mother. Shaving his hair in all but his Phoenix Plume had not merely been a physical change for Zuko, it symbolled his dishonor, his father’s disapproval. It, as much as the scar, marked him as a failure. It had become so tied to his identity that it had transferred to his lupine form, only starting to grow back when he’d given up in the alley a few weeks back and accepted his lot.

Or maybe it was just because he hadn’t been able to shave since he had been placed into the shelter.

Regardless, the fact of the matter was, when he’d entered the shelter his fur had looked like it had been completely shorn other than an obnoxiously fluffy tail, which apparently represented his plume. The bareness revealed and highlighted the smattering of scars that covered his body (accidents, “accidents” courtesy of Azula, beatings from his time on the streets, and prior results of failing his father) in addition to the unseemly skin that covered every canine. Some may prefer hairless breeds, but that was when they were cute lap dogs. In a creature as damaged and intimidating as Zuko’s wolf form…

That website would be waiting a long time before anyone called for him.

“Aang…” The girl began, voice dripping with careful gentleness. The boy hunched, holding his head between his shoulders and Zuko found himself licking the boy’s suddenly closer cheek in an expression of comfort.

What.

He needed to get out of the form. His canine impulse control was becoming crap.

He refused to even think of a single possibility in which that action was caused by anything other than some unfortunate canine instinct.

Aang jerked at the touch, but it had pulled him from his funk and he laughed, scratching at Zuko’s belly. “I know what you’re going to say, Katara, but most of the fur will grow back! The face scar won’t look nearly as bad once the rest of it has grown in. Just think of what a handsome boy he’s gonna be.” Aang cooed the last bit in baby talk.

Zuko wanted to retract his lick.

No, not his lick. The wolf form’s lick. He refused to admit any part to it.

“He just needs a good place to stay for a while for that to happen! And we can train him not to be so growly and loud, and to react better around new people and dogs!”

“If he’s bad with other dogs this isn’t going to work.” Sokka said, back to scratching at the good-ear-spot. “Appa, remember? And those teeth are pretty fierce. I’m pretty sure Momo isn’t going to be anything more than an exotic snack.”

“Well, he hasn’t exactly been bad around other dogs, not yet at least! They sometimes act weird around him, but Appa is really well trained!”

“I don’t know, Aang…” The girl continued to protest. Aang sent the pair wide, pleading eyes.

“Pleassseee? He’s a good dog, he really really is! But the shelter knows that no one is going to adopt him in this state and there aren’t any other fosters who would be able to take him in! All we have to do is take care of him, train him to be better behaved, take photos for the website and bring him to adoption events! If Zuko finds us again and we have to move, we can bring him back here, but at least then he’ll have a better chance.”

Zuko jerked at the mention of his name, hating the way it sprang from Aang’s lips as if he was talking about some kind of boogeyman or monster who would pop up and say ‘boo’. He was the villain in Aang’s story. It was a sobering thought, one he didn’t necessarily like.

But it didn’t matter, he forced himself to remember. Of course Aang thought he was a bad guy, the teen had set himself against Zuko’s father. It didn’t mean anything more than how rival sports teams felt about each other. Yes, the stakes were much higher, but it didn’t mean that Zuko was a bad person for being against Aang.

It didn’t.

Zuko whined again, ears once more flat against his skull and suddenly, it was all too much. The caressing hands suddenly felt like they were everywhere. His skin felt like it was crawling with discomfort, with fear, with guilt that he tried to convince himself wasn’t deserved. He rose to his feet, shaking until all of the hands, with their free comfort and freer trust, finally left. He resumed pacing in the little area that the cage allowed as the three teens looked at him with concern.

Katara frowned. “I think he’s getting antsy.”

Aang perked. “Maybe we can take him for a walk while we talk! I bet you’d like that, huh boy?”

“I guess that’d be okay.” The girl allowed, and the other boy’s face scrunched into thought.

“I mean, that makes sense. If we do foster him, we have to be able to take him for walks and stuff.”

Aang shot that boy a victorious grin, one that meant he knew that he was taking home a foster dog.

Fresh air sounded amazing, so Zuko didn’t so much as twitch as they fitted a collar and leash around his neck, practically pulling a yelping Sokka out of the kennel. He was considered a ‘flight risk’ so they were very careful about who they let walk him. Which was reasonable. He was huge, and every step away from starvation was a step towards renewing his strength. The kennel had security cameras close enough to his cage that he couldn’t simply shift and unlock it, and the exercise yard was constantly monitored while in use and covered in tall fencing that would be hard for even him to jump. The dog walking trails behind the shelter were his best bet at escaping from this place.

Consequently, he hasn’t been walked by anyone other than the blockhead wrestler whose anger-management coach insisted he do community service. Zuko knew the issue intimately, as ‘the Boulder’ was fond of ranting about it during their walks.

While speaking in third person.

And referring to himself only as his stage name.

Needless to say, Zuko was not the hugest fan of walk time.

Director Kuei himself was in the lobby when Aang attempted to walk through, his huge New Foundland Bosco panting lazily at his side as always. He frowned at the young boy. “Aang, what are you doing with Blue Spirit?”

“Well, you said that I was too young to walk him, but Sokka is two years older than me, so I thought he could do it! Look at how good he’s behaving.”

Bosco sniffed a little to closely at Zuko and the werewolf snarled at him, making the other dog whine and back behind his owner’s legs. “Quite… though I’m not sure that’s enough. I spoke with the Boulder the other day, and he said that even he is having a good deal of difficulty keeping Spirit in check.”

“Woah hey!” Sokka yelled. “Don’t underestimate me!” He held up his bicep, which was… decent, for his age but was no where near the size of the Boulder’s. “See that? It’s all muscle?”

The man adjusted his glasses and hummed uncertainly, turning to the general manager for his opinion. Fong made the majority of the decisions at the shelter, financially and staff wise. Kuei was content with owning and bankrolling the shelter and taking care of the animals.

Fong looked down his nose at the group of children, consideringly. “It would not reflect well on the shelter if we were to lose a dog prior to it’s adoption. There are no problems in Ba Sing Se humane society.”

Aang leaned forward. “But you said that you were thinking about letting me foster him so that he wouldn’t… how are we going to foster him if we can’t even walk him?”

Fong looked like he sucked in a sour lemon, but by this point they were starting to garner the attention of the others in the lobby, who were looking at the raggedy-looking dog at the end of the leash and the young adults clearly trying to walk him. Likely to save face more than because he actually agreed, Fong acquiesced. “Use multiple leashes. He shouldn’t be able to pull all of you.”

Aang brightened. “Thanks!”

Additional leashes were clipped to the cheap plastic collar, much to Zuko’s annoyance. They weren’t expecting a dog with human intelligence though. Zuko was pretty certain that he would be able to escape. He should easily be able to get far away from…

…wait.

Why would he escape? This was perfect.

The dog’s tail started slowly waving as they walked out of the shelter doors. If Aang really wanted to adopt him, then it would be perfect. He could stay with the boy, learn his patterns and his ways, earn his trust. He could do this the right way, with forethought and planning rather than desperation and fury. He could actually do it this time, bring Aang to his father and make him proud.

He just had to be patient for a bit, be a dog. His father would be ashamed to see the shift used in this way, but maybe he would overlook it so long as it achieved his goals. Zuko’s restored position would be well worth the humiliation coming his way.

So, now he just had to… be a good dog. How hard could it be?

[firenationember]

Destruction, Everywhere (OC Fic)

10/?

Authors Note: I know the gif is from the beach episode BUT  it’s still cute and about Zuko talking about his feelings, we support boys who cry. Everybody cries!

Previous Chapters

I sat on the front steps of the beach house lazily, everyone except Aang and Zuko sitting around me. They were working on Aang’s firebending, Sozin’s comet being only three days away, and Zuko insisted on perfecting Aang’s firebending the best they could. They weren’t at it very long before Katara began offering up watermelon juice. Zuko was upset that we were all just lying around when we should be training, and Sokka suggested that he relaxes by having a beach party with us. The others ran down to the shore, a tornado of laughter, and I stood there holding a cup of juice I had saved for Zuko. I walked over to the spot he was brooding in and offered him a small smile. 

“Juice? It’s important to stay hydrated, you know.” I poked the sliced melon towards him which earned a small smile in response. He grabbed it out of my hands, stirring the contents inside with the straw without drinking it. I shifted on the balls of my feet slightly, Zuko’s frustration radiating off him in waves. “You should come down to the beach with us, take it easy for a bit. It might help you feel better about the comet.” He opened his mouth as if he were going to say something before sighing and shaking his head.

“I’ll meet you guy down there soon.” I gave him a small nod. Without giving it too much though, I quickly closed the distance between us and put my hands on his chest as I stood up on my toes to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. He gave me a halfhearted hug, using his free hand to quickly wrap around my waist before he turned to walk up the stairs. I made my way down to the beach where the others were building sandcastles and swimming, and I hoped that Zuko would join us soon.

Aang, Toph and I were laughing at Sokka’s sand sculpture of Suki before we were caught by surprise when a ball of fire flew down, destroying Sokka’s hard work. I looked over to see Zuko soaring through the air, anger apparent on his face, as he threw flames towards Aang. The two of them continued fighting, making their way back to the house, and the rest of us just stood there in confusion, Sokka trying to salvage his art. Once Katara noticed something was off, she came back in from the water and we ran to meet the explosions coming from our hideout. We heard a crash from the side of the building, and when I looked over to the sound, I saw Zuko flying through the air. What has gotten into them? Into him? We all ran over to the spot where he landed, Aang jumping down from the balcony Zuko just flew off of, as I crouched next to Zuko and offered him a hand up. Katara began questioning his motives as he accepted my offer and we stood up. He was angry to be the only one to be taking the closely upcoming comet seriously, and I sighed next to him. Before I had the chance to open my mouth and say anything in the others’ (and my own) defense, I noticed the expressions on their faces.

“About Sozin’s comet-- I was actually gonna wait to fight the Firelord until after it came.” Aang’s tone was almost sheepish as he spoke, while still holding his voice strong. I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion and noticed that Zuko was the only one to share this expression. I pursed my lips and focused on the unfolding conversation in front of me. Aang explained how he wasn’t ready, his firebending (and earthbending, as Toph kindly reminded) still needed a lot of work before he mastered them, and he didn’t think he’d be able to defeat the Firelord.  Sokka and Katara offered up more reasons and it hit me that they had talked about this. I suddenly felt a twinge of something, anger and confusion and sadness; I shook the feelings away, knowing that Aang, Katara and Sokka are closer than the rest of us and that was probably why they knew. I brought my attention back to the conversation.

“Things can’t get any worse.” I focused on Katara’s voice as she hung her head, realizing how pointless it was for me to feel upset.

“You’re wrong.” I snapped my head towards Zuko, his icy tone catching my attention. He told us about his father (or rather, Azula’s) plan for world domination. He was right, it was worse than we could’ve imagined. To say that this 100-year-war has been awful would be a devastating understatement; wiping out the entire Earth Kingdom is just… sickening. As he spoke, Zuko found a rock to sit on, the angry energy that was keeping him upright deflating. I crouched down next to him, gingerly grabbing his hands so he’d know he’s not alone. Even though he refused to look back at me while he spoke, he squeezed my hands with reassurance.

“You may have gotten lost Zuko, but you found your way back. You’ve found who you are.” My voice is soft as I lightly rested my chin on our intertwined hands looking up at him. He glanced down at me with a soft smile before sighing. I heard Katara drop to the ground behind me and the others shifting in the weight of what Zuko just told us. I got up and walked over to Katara, offering her some support as well. Zuko got up from the rock and we all stood there, unsure what to say next. Aang asked why Zuko failed to mention this plan before, which made me let out a small laugh. I noticed everyone turn to me and I looked away. “Sorry… it’s not like you told everyone you wouldn’t be fighting him though, Zuko isn’t the only one who’s been holding back information.” Katara shot me a glare which caused me to roll my eyes. “I’m not saying anyone’s in the wrong, I’m just saying we all need to learn what information is worth sharing.”

“Oh, that’s rich, coming from the queen of mystery herself.” Katara retorts back, causing Sokka to walk over to her and Suki over to me. Suki shook her head as if to say, “don’t let her get to you” and I shrugged it off, aware that we had bigger things to focus on then friendship drama. That could wait. Aang had walked a few feet away and was crouching down with his head in his hands. Katara had directed her energy towards him, reminding him that’s he’s not alone. What started as a heavy, heated conversation ended in hopefulness: together we could stop Firelord Ozai. Everyone walked into a group hug, Katara’s eyes finding mine as she smiled sheepishly.

“I didn’t mean that Draya, I’m-“

“It’s okay, Katara.” I smiled back, walking into the spot she had made for me between her and Toph in the group hug. Katara looked over at Zuko, who was still awkwardly standing a few feet away.

“Get over here, Zuko. Being part of the group also means being part of the group hugs.” I watched as he grimaced at the phrase “part of the group” before he reluctantly walked over to the empty spot between Toph and Suki. His hand easily finds my shoulder as his long arm wraps around Tophs’, giving it a gentle squeeze. I saw Appa flying over with Momo, knocking us all down with him as he landed; they just wanted to be included in the group hug too.

Zuko taught Aang something his uncle taught him, how to redirect lightening, while Sokka came up with a training plan for all of us. We spent the rest of the afternoon practicing against a melon headed dummy (Melonlord, as Sokka called it), and it was dark by the time we finally sat down for the night. We were talking, relaxing on some stairs in the courtyard, when Katara brought out a picture of baby Ozai because she thought it was Zuko. It led to a heated conversation between Zuko and Aang, about life and death, causing Aang to storm off. Zuko stopped Katara from going after him, reminding her that he needs space. None of us felt like continuing our night, disbanding to our rooms after a long day of emotions and training. I started to walk towards my room when I stopped, turning around to check on Zuko before going to sleep. He had picked up the scroll with his fathers’ picture on it that Katara had discarded on the steps, staring at it for a long time before it burst into sudden flame in his hand. I walked over as he watched the ash float to the ground and placed my hand on his shoulder. His body was tense, turning his neck to look over at me.

“I thought you went to bed.” His voice was harsh, hushed.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.” I offered lightly, dropping my hand as Zuko turned around to face me. I saw his face contort from anger to exhaustion. Everything about his posture drooped and he walked over to the steps, dropping the end pieces of the scrolls on the floor before sitting with a defeated huff. I walked over to sit on the step below him, turning my body towards him so my knees brushed up against his leg. I found myself tracing his features with my eyes, his face stoic, being illuminated by the light above. His hair was outrageously messy, I wanted to reach my hand out and attempt to run my finger through its tangles. He had his head tilted up towards the sky, eyes closed, as if he were basking in the stillness; I wish I knew what was going on in that sweet, angry, beautiful mind of his. I was memorizing his face completely- the soft curve of his nose, his perfectly angled jaw, the blending lines of his scar- when he opened his eyes and looked towards me.

“I appreciate you checking on me, I’m okay. Just… nervous. And stressed. And I feel really bad about yelling at Aang. It’s just… there’s no other way and he just doesn’t get it. He has to kill him… he has to.” He was balling up his fists, and I noticed his eyes were glistening more than usual. The expression he had on his face was different from his usual gloomy one, it was more… pained? I moved up the step to be next to him, reaching my hand out to gingerly caress the back of his head, running my fingers into his hair at the base of his neck, and he softened at the touch. In one swift moment, he turned his body into mine, letting his arms wrap around my torso as he buried his face into my collarbone. My hand stayed on the back of his head, bringing my other arm around him, and we just sat there. I don’t know how long we sat there holding each other, but it was over all too soon. He sat up, looking away as he rubbed at his eyes. “Sorry, I- uh…”

“No, you have nothing to be sorry for. It’s okay. It was about time I repaid you for holding me that time I tried to run away.” My hand was still cradling his head, absentmindedly playing with his hair in slow motions. He chuckled slightly, still sniffling. “It’s okay that you feel all those things, this is all a lot. For you, and for Aang. He’s expected to take the Firelord’s life and… the fact is, the Firelord just happens to be your father. He’s the definition of horrible. It still can’t be easy to know that, after all this, he’ll be gone. Feel your emotions now, that way your head is clear for the comet.” He turned his head to face me, my hand drifting from his neck to his cheek. His eyes were still glistening, the small twitch of a smile causing a few tears to slip out. I rubbed them away with my thumb, savoring every bit of this moment.

“He’ll never be gone, not really. Besides, it’s not even the fact that he’ll be dead after this, it’s the fact that I don’t feel anything when I think about it. I don’t feel sad, or mad, I don’t even feel happy! I feel nothing towards the thought that I’m helping someone prepare to kill my father. Does… does that mean I’m a monster too? Am I just like Azula after all? Someone who… doesn’t care if someone lives or dies?” He dropped my gaze as he spoke, and as he looked away, I instinctively pulled him back in for a hug. The silent tears were streaming down his face quickly and I just wanted to help him the same way he helps me. He let himself slump into me as I wrapped my free arm around him, accepting the embrace.

“You’re not a monster, Zuko. You are nothing like your father, or your sister. You’re you, someone who is kind and caring. You don’t feel anything because, well, he’s probably been dead to you for years now, even if you never realized. He hurt you, Zuko, and you’ve held onto that ever since. It’s okay to feel nothing and it’s okay to feel everything. I’m here for you.” His arms tightened around me and I felt a sob wrack through his body as he buried his head into my collarbone again. I still had one hand cradling his head and the other wrapped around his shoulders as I held him tightly until his shoulders stopped shaking. He pulled away and I brought both of my hands to his face, his cheeks hot and wet from the tears. “I’m not going anywhere.” I placed a soft kiss on his forehead, nose, and each cheek in between each word; my last kiss being on a spot where his scarred skin met the untouched skin. My lips lingered on his wet cheek as I felt his head turn until his lips met mine. This kiss was different than the ones from last night. It felt more sincere somehow as he wrapped his arms around me until we broke apart. He leaned his forehead on mine and let out a breathy laugh.

“Thank you, for everything. I’ve never felt this comfortable with someone. I hope you never go.” It was his turn to pepper my face with soft kisses, making me melt into his embrace.

“As much as I’d love to sit here with you for hours, we should probably get to sleep. We have a few… long days coming up.” We both shared similar smiles, soft and sad, knowing we may not get another moment like this for a while, if ever. He walked me to my room and, before I stepped inside, he had pulled me into a strong embrace, our heartbeats crashing into each other. He kissed the top of my head as we said good night. I knew life as we knew it would be changing in three days, and the only thing I could hope for was that Zuko’s by my side, no matter what happens. It was nice to have a normal teenage thought for once, about a boy, instead of the impending doom waiting to rain down on us with the comet.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Kissing Dead Pearls (Part 28)

For someone who wears a sling, Azula is strangely unintimidated by the prospect of going back to sea. Sokka isn’t particularly surprised though, she always has been the resilient sort. The type to brush things off and get back to whatever task she had been doing before tragedy struck. It is one of the things that had drawn him to her in the first place. If he isn’t mistaken he would say that she is rather eager to get back to sailing.

He can think of several other things that he’d rather be doing. “Wouldn’t it be quicker to just take a plane back home.”

Azula tilted her head, “we can’t just leave the boat.”

“I dunno, that thing looks pretty banged up, I’m sure that you guys could get a newer and better one.”

“Sokka, it’s not even our boat.” Zuko points out. “We’re borrowing it from that ex-pirate who runs the town bar.”

Sokka cocks his head. “Why would he lend you a boat?”

“He and dad have gotten close.”

Sokka furrows his brows.

Azula sighs and scans the beach for her Ozai before whispering, “I already told you about father’s drinking problem.”

He flushes as the pieces click. “Oh, yeah. Bars. Drinking. Talking to the bar owner.”

Azula swats him, “not so loud!”

“Ow! Blisters!”

Azula rolls her eyes. “Your days of being babied are over!” She declares. “And besides, most of your blisters are gone now anyways, you’re just trying to get special treatment.”

“And that takes the attention away from you?” He quirks a brow and gestures to her arm.

“I,” she draws the syllable out, “am not complaining.”

“Hey, Sokka!” Katara calls. “I found a piece of your raft.” She holds up a bright yellow strip.

“Anyways, I still think that we should travel by plane. Ozai and Jet can sail the boat back and the rest of us will meet him there.”

Azula fixes him with a dull stare. “Sokka, that’s a terrible idea.”

Looking equally as unentertained, Zuko adds, “I’m not going to leave my father unattended.”

“And your father isn’t going to leave you unattended either.” He mutters. “Not after the fiasco with the souvenir shop.”

Zuko flushes, “that wasn’t even my idea.” He flicks his gaze to his sister.

She gives one of her faux innocent stares. “I can’t do much damage like this.” She strokes her sling.

“It only takes one hand to pop several blisters.” Sokka grumbles.

“Gross, Sokka!” Katara exclaims.

“Our luggage is on the ship.” Ozai remarks.

“What about Jet?” Katara asks.

“He has been on the ship avoiding me.” Azula crosses her arms.

Sokka can hear the hurt in her voice but she says nothing more of it. He feels another onslaught of guilt for finding relief in Jet’s avoidance. If he is angry with Azula, then he won’t have to worry about the other boy getting in the way of things. It doesn’t seem to matter how many times Azula assures him that she has chosen him over Jet, he still can’t shake away the paranoia. He isn’t sure how close she had gotten to Jet and he is afraid to ask. Just as he can’t shake his dread of the sea.

“Come on, Sokka. Everyone else is on board.” Her touch is much gentler this time, less playful.

“I’d really rather…”

“Take a plane. You’ve said so.” She nods. “It’ll be fine, we got here in one piece.” He doesn’t miss the split second glance she makes at the sail. It might be that he is over thinking things, but he has a suspicion that there was a mishap with that sail. “And you won’t be alone this time if we get lost.”

“Unless…” he lifts a pointer, “we get separated by a storm.”

“We’ll be fine, Sokka.”

“How do you know?”

“Because it would be absurd for the universe to hand you back if it was just going to kill you a few weeks later. Why would it when it could have just killed you in that storm?” She shrugs.

“Gee. That’s reassuring.” He rubs the back of his head. Her humor has always been somewhat dark but her delivery has never been this dry. Dry to the point where he thinks that she is only half joking. It is just one more glimpse into the damage he has done in disappearing for so long.

And then it dawns upon him--and he swallows a lump in his throat--that in the time that he had left, she has changed. It wouldn’t make sense if she didn’t. But what if she has changed into someone that he doesn’t particularly love...could she have changed that much? Could he have changed as well?

“Come on, Sokka.” She says softly, more sympathetically. “I have something for you.”

He bites his cheek. There really is no sense in drawing this out, he knows that he is getting on the boat one way or another. It is probably better to spare himself of Azula fetching her father to carry him aboard kicking and screaming. He also can’t deny that she has piqued his curiosity.

He follows her onto the ship. It is a lot sturdier than his was. And bigger.

“Khozen says that this ship has survived a few decades of storms.” Azula points out as she leads him below deck and to the cabins. “And, just so you know, we tested that. Overall, it is a well built ship.” She sits down upon what he assumes is her bed and she pats the spot next to her.

He takes a seat. He looks the girl up and down as she shuffles around a suitcase. Now that the novelty is wearing off he is noticing more things. More changes; mostly his gaze is glued to the scar on her chin. He wishes he didn’t, but every time he sees it he imagines her with cloudy eyes and none of that fiery spirit standing at the edge of a cliff. He sees a different person entirely. A more dismal person.

The real Azula is much different than the one in his mind’s eye. She is grinning, holding something behind her back. “I’ll give you three guess. If you don’t get it then you don’t get the thing that I am holding.”

Some of his anxieties wash away as a memory drives the darker images out of his mind. Now he is picturing a much smaller Azula with big eyes, chubby cheeks, and a missing front tooth.

He can’t quite get the voice right in his head, but he remembers her declaring, “what am I holding, Sokka!? If you get it right, you get a prize.” She only gave him unlimited guesses because she knew that hadn’t stood a chance. Usually with this game, other kids held was  coin or a toy. Azula...she was always different. After guessing, “a coin? A stick of gum? A dollar bill? Five dollars!? A rubber duck…” She held out her fist and opened it to reveal a cherry pit.

So that is what he goes with, “it’s a cherry pit, isn’t it?”

She shakes her head. “Good guess, but now.”

“A pumpkin seed?”

Azula rolls her eyes. “Pumpkins aren’t in season.”

Her eyes, they are the same, but they are different. He thinks that they aren’t so care free anymore. There is a knowingness to them. A hardness that goes beyond any physical changes.

And there are plenty of those too. He had expected her to have grown taller, but she really hasn’t. But her face has lost a little more of its softness, he thinks that her cheekbones are more pronounced. He thinks that her muscles are more defined...that would explain the iron grip that she’d had on him. She wears her hair differently too, it is somewhat more tousled and is no longer bound up.

“Stop thinking so much and just start throwing guesses. I’ll give you a hint.”

Sokka pretends like that is what he had been thinking about. “Shoot.” He forces a smile.

“It has seen better days, but it’s still kind of cute.” She pauses. “Sort of like you.”

His smile becomes more genuine and he tries not to laugh. “It’s my clownfish isn’t it?”

Azula blinks before chucking it at him. “You cheated.”

“It isn’t my fault that you gave such an obvious hint.”

She turns her head and folds her good arm against the other. “That was a pity hint.” He is glad that she does. It reassures him that she is still there. Even if her eyes are more tired, even if her body bares the scars of a rough period, her smile is still the same. Her mannerisms are the same.

He puts the stuffed clownfish to the side and puts an arm around her. He can’t fault her for her changes, not when she has probably observed some within him.

.oOo.

He has lost his spunk. His adventurous spirit. The ocean stole that from him and dragged it to its depths alongside his cargo.

His posture isn’t quite right. At first she thinks that it is because he is physically frailer. The doctors had warned that it might take several months for him to re-attain a healthy body weight. And that it might take longer for the patches of discolored skin to even out again.

But they hadn’t warned her that his mind might be frailer. Though she thinks that it was probably implied. He still jokes and quips. He still makes her laugh. But he always seems weary and on edge. As though the sea will flood and snatch him back from wherever he stands.

Azula can’t hold it against him. She can’t imagine it is all too different from the fragility that had gripped her own mind some time back. She lets him hold her but she feels as though she should be holding him.

“When did you start wearing your hair down?” He had inquired a few hours ago.

“I think the month after you left.”

“Why?”

She hadn’t had the heart to tell him that it was because she had simply stopped seeing the point in putting so much effort in. Instead she told him that she needed change, and it wasn’t a complete lie. It was simply a small fragment of a whole truth.

“When did you decide to grow a beard?” She had tried to lighten her own mood.

“It wasn’t a decision.” They both laughed at this. And just as she had begun to stop laughing, he flared his nostrils and gave his beard a few pretentious strokes. “Do you fancy it m’lady?”

“You’re shaving tomorrow.” Secondhand embarrassment had spread color upon her cheeks.

The conversation had died away three hours ago. She pretends to be asleep, she isn’t sure if he wants to be caught crying. She wonders if she should get Katara, it seems somehow more appropriate to have a sister comforting a brother. That is how it has always been between she and Zuko.

Azula looks at the bed over. Katara is sleeping soundly. Pictures of events that Sokka has missed are still sprawled out on her nightstand. One by one Katara had been going through them, catching Sokka up on everything.

Azula doesn’t know how the pair had spent the alone time she’d given them, but Katara had went to bed extra cheerful.

“When did you wake up?” Sokka asks as he wipes his eyes.

“A few minutes ago, I guess.”

“Oh.”

“Why are you crying?” She notices that he is shaking and comes to a few conclusions. The boat rolls and bobs as it makes its way through the waves. “The ocean is very calm tonight. Do you want to go on deck?”

He shakes his head abruptly. “I don’t like how open it is.”

Azula nods. She takes his hand. She could tell him that it really isn’t that bad, but what good would that do? It would only be entirely dismissive. And a simple, ‘it’s going to be okay’ seems insufficient. Instead she says, “you were strong enough to find sleep on an unstable raft, you’re strong enough to get used to this.”

Though she thinks that these words might only be comforting to her. She thinks that words might not mean much at all right now. Her grip simply needs to be stronger than the pull of the sea. So she holds him close and waits for his anxious trembles to pass.

If he falls asleep in her arms then she will just deal with the earful that her father will give her.

“You used to love the ocean. You can’t fear it now.” She tries. “You beat it. You shouldn’t fear something that you have defeated.”

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Kissing Dead Pearls (Part 17)

The ocean is kinder to Azula than she expected. It might be the sense of freedom and adventure that she craves or possibly the feeling of getting away from the past. It feels better. She feels better. She can’t entirely shake the feeling of sullenness that creep in every now and again, mostly at night as she lies in her cabin, but she still feels like some weight has been lifted from her shoulders.

She sits on the deck for the longest time, watching the waves roll by and scanning the waters for any sign of life, a familiar face on a stalled or damaged boat, possibly on a thin strip of debris. She holds a book and reads a page every now and again.

She sets her book aside and reapplies her sunscreen. Preferring fresh air to the antique but stale air of the lighthouse, she has always been rather tan. Her excessive amount of time spent on deck, has deepened her complexion that much further.

She can’t see anything for miles so she puts her book aside and wanders over to the steering wheel. Her father stands behind it, face to the sun and the wind. The open ocean seems to be treating him rather well too, his skin is just as tanned and he has taken to grooming his beard and hair again, both of which flutter almost absurdly majestically in the breeze.

Azula finds herself faintly humored, he hasn’t yet taken the braids out of his beard. The night prior, Katara had declared that they needed to get pirate looks, that Sokka would have brought pirate hats and eye patches along if he had planned this trip. By the end of the night they all had the most awful improvised eye patches and bandanas. And Jet had very boldly vowed to give Ozai the most swashbuckling beard on the high seas.

She had muttered something about him becoming a hardened pirate and giving Khozen a little competition. Ozai hadn’t particularly fancied that idea, citing poor hygiene as the chief reason for his objection to the lifestyle.

They have been sailing for a week or so and have made several stops on little islands and land masses. Most of them were unoccupied, another handful boasted single houses on privatized land. They’d knocked on several doors and inquired about Sokka. It had been as futile as Azula had anticipated. Though it wasn’t an absolute waste, the third house that they came by was home to a grumpy old woman and her cheerful husband.

Much to the woman’s annoyance, the man invited them in for lunch. Azula doesn’t have a taste for pineapples served with dishes that otherwise had no fruits. Pineapple on pizza is an absolute no. She found herself of the same opinion when the old couple served it with shrimp and rice. She took to eating only pineapple and the buns they’d meant as an appetizer. Katara on the other hand was delighted, doubly so to have a new recipe for La-bsters. She vowed to name it after the old couple. The old woman was adamant that Katara name it after her cat. And so La-bsters will soon have a dish called Miyuki’s meal.

She can’t say that she will forget that night, the taste of pineapple and shrimp will always haunt her nightmares and she has a feeling that Zuko won’t be deleting the video of her trying it any time soon. It is just as well, she knows that when Sokka sees it...if, she corrects herself. If Sokka sees it, he will get a kick out of it.

“I can take the wheel.” Azula offers. “Go get some water, father.”

He pats her back, “I’ll be back in a moment.” His voice is steadier, livelier and his eyes aren’t so tired. She isn’t entirely sure if he has any lingering withdrawal symptoms, if he does, he doesn’t show them. He does know, however, that he still has cravings. He is irritable on those days and they give him space. On those days he lurks below deck in the cabin by himself, refuting all offers for company. On those days she does most of the steering and Katara keeps watch for her. Zuko fills in for her when she needs a break. And Jet, though he doesn’t steer the boat, being as he has a horrid sense of direction, does most of the cleaning and ship repairs. Though she finds that his emotional support is the most helpful.

Ozai remerges on the deck with two water bottles. He holds one out for her. “Thank you, father.”

He nods and crosses his arms as he peers towards the horizon. His face stern.

“What’s wrong?”

He presses his lips together. “We’re going to need to find a place to port. The weather forecasts are calling for a storm.”

“How bad is it going to be?”

“It isn’t supposed to be a hurricane, but they advise that boats be kept out of the water if possible.”

Azula nods, “and when is it supposed to hit?”

“As of now, they are predicting early tomorrow morning. They say that it could break in the afternoon. I would prepare for an early morning storm.”

Azula nods. For a time they are quiet. “Father?” She looks up.

“Yes?”

“How are you holding up?”

For the briefest moment his lip quirks up. He holds up his AA chip, it glints gold. “I’ll have my purple chip by the end of your journey.”

She doesn’t think that it is just her journey. It was her idea, yes. But all five of them are on it and for their own different reasons. For their own ideas of closure. She wants to say that her father is on two of them simultaneously. “You’ll make it to your bronze chip, right?” A year is a long time, she is aware.

His firm grip his back on her shoulder. “I hope so.” He gives it a squeeze.

“Mom would be proud.” Zuko leans in the doorway. “She wouldn’t want you to drink because of her.”

“I’ll leave you two alone.” She would like some time with Jet anyhow.

.oOo.

Zuko’s stomach is tying itself in knots. He has been keeping his distance from his father, but it is time to confront the man. If for no other reason than to keep Azula happy. She loves their father dearly. And for as much as she insists that she doesn’t care, he is certain that having their family rift apart would break her.

“I like to think so.” Ozai agrees. He is silent for a very long time. Zuko doesn’t know what to fill the silence with.

“Believe it or not, I want Azula to be proud too.” Another long pause. “And you.”

Zuko isn’t sure what emotion comes over him exactly. Perhaps a sense of empowerment or satisfaction. It is now his turn, his turn to yell about disappointments and expectations. It would be so easy. So easy to note how funny it is that Ozai is the family disappointment, not him.

He very nearly does. At the last moment he recalls just how easy it would be to cause his father to drink again. He also recalls that they are on a beverage free boat so no opportunity would arise. Instead he says, “I’m trying to be proud.”

“But…” Ozai prompts.

Zuko shakes his head. “I’m still angry.” He replies. “About the drinking, about how you dragged Azula down the beach, about how you left us to handle your job... about how you used to call me a disappointment.”

Ozai gives a long exhale. “We never really settled that did we?”

“No.” Zuko shakes his head. “I still don’t know if you’re proud of me. Azula says that you are. She said that you found my cooking and baking helpful. But you never said it.”

“Zuko, I didn’t think that I had to.”

He almost grows teary eyed. “You did.”

Ozai seems to nod and says nothing more.

“Can you make me proud too? Can you really try?”

“I’m really trying now.” Ozai swears.

Zuko is still skeptical.

“Come here for a minute.” He calls to Jet. “You, steer the ship.”  He and Azula make their way over.

Jet gives a thumbs up. Just as they are disappearing below deck, Zuko hears, “hey Katara, come steer the ship for a moment!”

Ozai leads him into the kitchen. He pulled a loose board from the wall and comes out with an unopened bottle.

“You’re kidding!?” Zuko scowls. “Azula is…”

“Not going to know.” Ozai finishes.

“You’ve been…”

Ozai shakes his head. “This is the only one I brought aboard...just in case.”

“Why would you show me that?”

“Follow me.” He motions for Zuko to follow him back on deck. He gives it a quick scan, presumably for Azula. Finding the coast clear, he fully appears on deck. He reaches the bow.

“Father, what’s that?”

Zuko’s stomach knots, he can only imagine how tense Ozai is. But the man seems rather relaxed. He holds up the bottle and throws it overboard. “I was saving it just in case.” He pauses. “I’ve always told the two of you to tough it out and forget the baby steps…”

“That was the second manliest thing I’ve seen all year!” Jet declares.

“What was the first?” Zuko asks, desperate to shake away the last remaining vestiges of anxiety.

“Toph doing bench presses.”

Ozai rolls his eyes. “You kids do the strangest things.”

.oOo.

Azula goes to bed feeling both hopeful and uneasy. It has been a good day, a soothing one. Her father seems well, better than he has been in a very long while. She feels as though they are beginning to close the gap.

But Jet... The day with him had gone well. Perfectly in fact. She almost wishes that it hadn’t. She almost wishes that he would do something to piss her off, to break her heart, anything. But he hasn’t, he has only been patient and supportive.

She puts her head on the pillow, clasps her hands over her middle, and fixes her eyes on the ceiling as she takes in the gentle rocking of the boat. In shifts they are on the lookout for storm clouds and a safe place to dock. She ought to relieve Zuzu and take a second shift, she doesn’t think that she will be sleeping anyways, regardless of the soft ambiance of the waves.

Her head is whirring with possible scenarios and countless conflicting thoughts. Jet isn’t Sokka. Not by any means, but he suits her in a way that Sokka doesn’t. They have more things in common. And yet she craved the clash that she and Sokka had--it was fun.

She finds that she is very easily able to picture herself curled up with Jet right now. Can picture herself doing so time and time again. Just as much, she can vividly see herself holding Sokka tighter than ever on the way home. Of course this image is tainted with a knowingness that Jet will be lonely in the cabin over.

Azula wishes that he will do something to make her hate him. To make it easier for her to break things off. A much deeper and darker part of her, hopes that they don’t find Sokka. This part of her is mercifully small, more or less an intrusive thought that she casts aside as soon as it arises.

She just wonders what she would tell Jet if they do find Sokka… Or what she would tell Sokka…

Her mind wanders further and she finds herself fretting that she might not get to decide anything at all. That when she tells him about Jet, he will make up her mind for her. She reminds herself that the odds of finding him are slim to none. That she should just get some sleep instead of fretting over something that might not come to pass at all.

But that is not how her mind operates. She is a girl of plans and she spends the night running through scenario after scenario. Script after script until dawn breaks and Zuko cusses loudly.

She hears a rumble of thunder.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Wan High Weeping (Part 22)

He didn’t need the extra stress, he really didn’t and Suki was the only thing keeping him at bay. He was only one text from Katara away from stringing Jet up by the feet and bringing back medieval torture methods. “Look at this, Suki!”

 “I know.” She bit her lip. “I see it. But I can’t have my baby daddy in jail.”

 For the first time in a while, he was in no mood for jokes. “She said that he’s been following her home from school and that she would be all alone of TyLee didn’t start driving her!” He wanted to kick his own ass too, for not being around to escort her home. “If something happens to her, Suki…”

 “Nothing is going to happen to her.” Suki declared. “I promise, I won’t let anything.”

 Sokka ran his hands through his hair. He let his hand fall on Suki’s baby bump. “I can’t let him go after you either. You’re not thinking about the baby!” He puffed out a drawn-out breath. He didn’t mean to sound so accusatory. But Suki didn’t dispute him.

 He could see that she was on the verge of frustrated tears. She was a fighter and a protector, but the baby brought with it, a conflict of interests. “I don’t know how, but I can still protect her.”

 “I don’t know what to do, Suki. Maybe I should just go home, find a college closer to home so I can make sure Katara is okay and be closer to you and the baby.” He looked around the campus. It was all going so well here and he loved the campus, loved the people, loved the atmosphere…

 “Sokka.” Suki replied softly.

 “It’s fine, I can transfer. The semester is only a month in.” He stated.

 “You shouldn’t have to give up something that makes you happy.” Suki said. “Just because Jet can’t control himself. What about your parents?”

 “They have jobs. Katara is alone most of the time, especially with Toph out of school and Aang at soccer practice.” With a grim expression he added, “Jet knows that.”

 “Well maybe TyLee can do her some good.”

 “He followed them home!” Sokka reiterated. “I don’t think that he’s scared of TyLee.”

 .oOo.

 Katara slipped into her house and locked the doors. She’d draw the curtains shut if she thought that it would help, but he knew that she was home and he knew that she was alone. He knew that should would be for another few hours, until her father got home at 4:30. She texted Sokka frequently. Maybe she should just stay at school. It wasn’t to late to join the cooking club. She would have preferred theater, but the auditioning window had already passed. She made a mental note to talk to YengChen about joining the club. She could invite TyLee along and then neither of them would have to worry about Jet.

 Katara made her way up to her room, gripping her phone tightly. She was thankful to have found TyLee because TyLee understood. She hadn’t given Katara the full story yet, but apparently Jet liked to follow her around too.

Frankly, Katara was more scared for TyLee because he was more subtle about harassing her. Subtle to the point where no one noticed that he was troubling her at all.

 She really wanted to go on as though nothing was wrong. There were only a few more days until Halloween and she still didn’t have a costume. All of the harassment and stalking had killed the friendly spooky mood and made those stupid slasher flicks feel all too real. Jet had virtually ruined the holiday for her entirely. On top of his antics, Usha had taken to counting down the days to Halloween by photoshopping her face onto a new ‘sexy’ costume for each day. By day fifteen, Katara stopped checking her social media pages altogether, she was tired of seeing her face plastered onto sexy maids and cops.

 She heard a car pull into her driveway and looked at her clock. It was only 3:27. Her heart began to thunder in her chest. She shot Sokka a quick text, letting him know of the situation.

 He replied almost immediately. ‘Dammit, Katara, call the cops!’

 A good idea on paper but she knew that he’d either be speeding off or in her house by the time they arrived. That is if they took her seriously at all. And she texted such to Sokka who responds with an, ‘at least report it to them so they know.’

 Katara really didn’t see the use. The dots reappear on her screen. She read the message, ‘do you want me to head over there? I can tell my professor that I have an emergency.’

 ‘You won’t make it on time.’ She texted back.

 She couldn’t help but shiver. She crept down the hall making as little noise as possible. A glance out the window, reveals Jet standing in her driveway. He shot her a cocky wave. She retreated into the hallway and pulled down one of her father’s decorative tribal spears. “Sorry, dad.” She mumbled, knowing very well that his arctic wall décor was off limits.

 Her phone buzzed and she prayed that it was Sokka. A message from TyLee, appeared and she breathed a sigh of relief. The girl wanted to know if she would go costume shopping with her. Katara replied, ‘yes, can you come by as quick as possible?’

 With any luck, the sound of a new car would drive Jet away. If her luck was poor, she realized with faint horror, she had just put TyLee in the firing range. She smacked her forehead, how could she be so stupid and selfish?

 She was about to text a never mind when TyLee replied, ‘great, I’m just finishing my volunteer hours at the animal shelter, I’ll be there in five.’

 She heard the shattering of glass and a bead of anxious sweat trickled down her forehead. Oh God, he’s in the house. She clutched the spear tighter, wishing she knew how to use it. She texted Sokka to tell him that Jet was in her house.

 .oOo.

 Sokka punched the wall, his face was twisted and distorted with more rage than she had ever seen on him and truth be told she was afraid. Suki understood perfectly why he was in such a state but she couldn’t help the darker thoughts that rose in her head.

 What if, somewhere down the road, that rage was directed at her.

At their baby.

 She tried shaking the irrational thoughts away. No, this behavior was the result of not being able to protect loved ones. She tried to turn her thinking around, telling herself that, this is how he would fight for she and their child if he had to.

 He threw his fist into the painted bricks again. And he was going for another round. That time, she caught his hand. “You’re going to hurt yourself, stop it.”

 “He’s in the fucking house Suki!” Sokka roared.

 She hoped that no one else could hear the commotion, God forbid they got the wrong idea.

 “If he hurts her…” Sokka’s breathing was growing erratic. “If he hurts her I don’t know what I’ll do.”

 “Let’s go outside.” Suki suggested. Some fresh air might do him some good.

 “I gotta go home, I gotta…”

 She squeezed his shoulders more firmly. “You have to calm down. You can’t help Katara if you’re not calm.”

 His phone buzzed and Suki’s heart leapt, she hoped that it was some good news.

 .oOo.

 TyLee arrived before the police. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard the girl’s voice. “Katara?” It was riddled with concern. “Katara, are you okay?”

 Katara released the breath she had been holding and wiped away a few silent tears. “I’m fine.” Her voice was so shaky. Just as shaky as the legs she heaved herself up on. “If you’re not inside, you can come in.”

 “The door is locked, but I guess I can fit through the widow.”

 Katara thought it was a jest until she came downstairs to find the girl squishing herself through the relatively large hole in the window. Katara knew that the girl was flexible, but that was just insane.

 “What happened?”

 “Jet.” She replied glumly.

 TyLee stooped down to pick up the miniature bolder Jet had chucked through the window. She grimaced.  

 “What?”

 TyLee turned the large rock over. Painted in red was a threat; ‘windows are pretty easy to break, you might as well open the door.’

 She wanted to cry all over again. She distracted herself by letting Sokka know that Jet had only broken the window, that he had never been inside at all. She added that TyLee was there and the cops would be there too.

 Not that they ended up being much use at all. She hadn’t expected them to be. She watched them snap photos of the rock, the message on it, and the broken glass. “But no one was inside of the house?” The taller cop spoke.

 Katara shook her head. “But look at that, he practically said that he would be…”

 “He?” Asked the smaller female cop.

 “My stalker. Jet! The one I’ve been telling you about!”

 “How do you know it was him?” Asked the woman

 “For all we know, it was just some bratty neighbor pulling a nasty Halloween prank.” The man concluded.

 “Happens all the time around this time ‘a year.” The female added

 Katara wanted to scream. “No! It’s him, I saw him out there.” She was so furious with herself for not snapping a picture of him standing in her driveway; once again, she could prove nothing.

 “Did you managed to get a picture of him?”

 “No!” Katara shouted again. “I didn’t think about it. But he. Was. There.”

 “He was totally there.” TyLee put in.

 “And you saw him?” The female asked.

 TyLee bit her cheek. “Well no, but…”

 “If you weren’t present then you can’t be a witness.” Spoke the male.

 “He does this kind of thing to me too.” TyLee argued.

 “Have you reported it?” Asked the female cop.

 Her silence was an answer it itself. Now Katara wanted to tear her hair out. What would it take to get them to believe her? Would she have to go missing? Would she have to die? TyLee grabbed her hand and pulled her into what was probably meant to be a comforting embrace. Maybe she was going to have to move. She didn’t want to leave Aang, Suki, and Toph behind. She didn’t want to leave town, but that was starting to sound like the safest option.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

I’ll Meet You At The Bottom (Part 60)

In the weeks to follow, Azula had fallen back into a sort of routine; wake up, have breakfast, firebend, address any matters that concerned her as the Fire Lord, and join Sokka as he painted away. The smell of paint was beginning to cling heavily to his room, it was no wonder he preferred to sleep in hers. She had to admit that there was more stress than she had anticipated in being the Fire Lord, even when sharing the crown with Zu-Zu. She began to find it hard to fathom actually running the nation on her own as she had so fantasized about as a girl. It hadn’t helped any that she had to make more arrests, as it would turn out, Ursa had a keen ear for the palace whispers. By the end of the first week Azula had been back, the woman had uncovered three more traitors in the guard. It was getting to the point where she and Zuko were discussing the pros and cons of getting an entirely new palace guard.

The stress was starting to show on her face, she fond herself sleepless again. Her eyes somewhat hazy with faint bags re-appearing. She confessed to letting her hair fall into a state of minor disarray that Sokka would comb through at the end of the day tsking as if his own weren’t a tad straggly. Zuko was in a very similar state, if not even more haphazard as he rushed from one end of the palace to the next. At least there was a very solid and almost impeccable sense of unity between them now.

 But there was one concern she had that her brother did not share. Especially being as he was just beginning to rekindle his relationship with Mai—the two were still in the gushy ‘I love you phase’. Azula found herself surprisingly thankful that TyLee had tagged along. She was far savvier in the way of romance than Azula. TyLee was hesitant at first, watching Azula as if she were some kind of animal that had been backed into a corner and ready to strike.  Azula couldn’t really hold it against her though, for the same reason she didn’t fault Zu-Zu for his initial weariness.  It had taken the appearance of Sokka to put TyLee at ease. Seeing him embrace her so fondly, must have alleviated some of her reluctance because at least, she tossed her arms around the Fire Lord in a way she hadn’t since they were companions. Though Azula spoke none of her concerns with Sokka in ear shot.

 “You guys are so-o-o cute.” Ty Lee squealed when he was finally off to squabble with Toph.

 “I guess.” Azula muttered, sweeping a wave of glossy black locks off of her shoulder. She pulled her legs up to her chest, leaning her weight against the wall behind her.

 “What’s wrong?” TyLee asked, “Are you worried he doesn’t like you?”

 “Oh, that’s not the problem at all.” Azula replied. It was very nearly the opposite of the problem. She had to admit that she never imagined anything serious and/or long-lasting with the man. If she were being wholly truthful, at first she thought that her love for him would have extended as far as the healing process went—that she only loved him because he had saved her. But the more time she had spent with him, the more reasons she found to care for him much further beyond that. Maybe if she had anticipated the long-term, she would have thought ahead. But the oaf had snuck up on her. “I wasn’t supposed to love him you know. That was an accident.” Was all she managed.

 “Of course it was!” TyLee clapped her hands together. “You don’t just plan on falling in love with someone.” She rolled her eyes as if that was the most obvious stamen in the world. And maybe it was. It probably was, Azula decided.

 Even so, Azula liked to go in with a plan. To know exactly what move would be made next. But she didn’t plan this—any of it—she was never given the chance. She hadn’t even planned on falling in love with him…

 .oOo.

 Sokka hoped with all of his soul that TyLee would be able to ease Azula’s mind. Ever since seeing Ozai she seemed unsurprisingly troubled. Yet she kept insisting that it had nothing at all to do with her father. No matter how much he tried he couldn’t pry the issue out of her. For some reason she regressed into bottling it up again.  She mentioned once or twice something generic about how “running the Fire Nation is difficult.” He sensed that it ran deeper than that. She was looking rather tired again but not enough to cause him any particular concern. He just feared that she would get worse.

 It was time for a new plan; he would share the last of his worries if she opened up to him.

 He made his way towards her bedroom were he found her surrounded by considerably large stacks of paper and scrolls. She was racking a hand through her hair as she flipped through a stack of them. She paused, put her paper-ruffling hand on her hip, and blew at a strand of loose hair. “Hey.” He greeted. He sat down causing the bed to dip and a few pages to scatter.

 Azula narrowed her eyes. Picking up the larges scroll she could find, she swatted him over the head. “Go pick those up!”

 “I don’t know if I feel like doing that.” He replied.

 With a huff, she got off of the bed and collected her papers. He knew she’d find some sort means to get a petty sort of vengeance later. “What’s all of that, anyways?”

 “Contracts and trading logs among other things.” She replied.

 “Contracts?”

 “I’m planning on renovating areas of the Fire Nation.” She answered. “Zu-Zu wants no part in it, he hates keeping track of the royal finances.” She set the papers aside. “What do you need?”

 “Just wanted to check on you.” He said. “I was also hoping you were still interested in the rest of the Suki story.”

 “Oh, I am. Very much.” She folded her hands in her lap.

 “Katara has mostly helped me come to terms with it, but I still wanted to tell you.” He started. “I don’t remember if I already told you, but she was pregnant.”

 “You may have mentioned that.” Azula moved closer to him.

 “I could have been a dad, Azula.” He whispered.

 “Would you have wanted that?” She asked.

 “I don’t know what kind of father I would have been…”

 “But did you want to find out?”

 “Yeah, I kind of did...” He trailed off. “I don’t know if I’d even be a good father but I still…I wish that I had the chance. Ya know?” He found himself repeating that he could have been a dad. He found that as Azula stared at him with an unusually soft gaze that it still stung. It still hurt him very much to have never known his child to be. He got to experience it in only the most ambiguous sense. That very instinctual care and love that came with touching Suki’s baby bump. A very vivid taste of what should have been. He found himself teary eyed once more. He swatted at his eyes, reminding himself very much of the woman staring quietly at him. “It’s not fair.”

 “No.” Azula agreed. “It isn’t.”

 “I never got the chance…” he repeated.

 “You act like you won’t get another.” She shrugged.

 “Do you want to be a mother?”

 .oOo.

 That truly was the question. The one that had her so quiet and so conflicted. She felt awful for Sokka, to get a touch of something so beautiful but only one touch…

Azula took Sokka’s hand in her own, for lack of anything else to do. He was eyeing her so imploringly. But she didn’t know how to answer him just then. That didn’t stop her from trying. “I guess it wouldn’t be so awful.” But the truth was she had trouble picturing herself even holding a baby, much less caring for one. She had a hard time even picturing herself carrying a child. “I don’t know that I’d make a good mother.”  She lie back down and stared at the ceiling, but not before glancing at Sokka.

 His face fell. “I think you’d be fine. As long as you don’t copy your dad.”

 “You want to be a father, don’t you?”

 He nodded.

And with that nod a healthy portion of her reluctance abated.  Still she had her fears. She traced her fingers over her still flat tummy. She truly had trouble seeing herself carrying a child. “That’s good to know.” She noted, rolling onto her side.

 “Why?” He asked.

 .oOo.

 “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”  He asked

 “I might be.”

 His face lit up once again and he took her in his arms, holding her so tight that she muttered a word or two of protest. But he continued to hold her just as close, his fingers bunching the excess fabric of her robe. “Is that why you’ve been so quiet lately?”

 “Yes.” She murmured into his shirt and then once more and unmuffled when he loosened his grip enough for her to move. He could feel her body slacken some.

 “Did you tell anyone else?”

 “Just TyLee.” She pulled out of his embrace.

 “You’re mom is probably going to be happy! And Katara! Katara delivered a baby in the Serpent’s Pass once…”

 Azula put a finger to his lips. “Slow down, Sokka. I’m not completely sure yet.”

 But he was. He was very sure. With the news in the open he found it very obvious. A bundle of teeny signs that he had missed beforehand. The sheen of her hair, the sparkle in her eyes, and the difficult mornings. He’d seen it on Suki, he’d felt it. Ignoring the Fire Lord’s half-hearted protests he came to set his hand on her abdomen, brushing his fingers tentitivly.

 “Stop doing that,” she grumbled. “It’s weird.”

 “No it isn’t.” He disagreed but withdrew regardless. He should have anticipated her discomfort. “You’ll be fine.” He assured her, opting to rub her back instead. She always seemed to enjoy that. “When are you going to tell everyone else?”

 “When I know for sure.” She answered.

 His head was dizzy in the most delightful way. He was getting a second chance and this time he wouldn’t let anything happen to his family. He rubbed his cheek against Azula’s. He never imagined that he would call her family.

 .oOo.

 The twinkle in his eyes remained. “I know for sure.”

 It was rather soothing to hear, though she still had her concerns, Sokka at least made it sound like everything would be alright. She had put so much thought into telling him and into sorting out her own feelings on the matter. Yet, for all the dwelling she did on her the matter she still hadn’t come to a conclusion.

She felt Sokka’s touch fall on her belly again. This time she didn’t bother telling him to remove it, instead she set her hand over his and squeezed.

The truth was, she was scared.