Chapter Text
The Southern Water Tribe ambassador has arrived at the Fire Nation palace. It’s as he remembered it, walls of red and gold. Now though, he walks the halls with ease, not a single weapon in hand.
The war is over. Countless peace treaties have been signed, agreements forged, and reparations made. He knows that the fighting has stopped, and children are no longer on the frontlines, but there are still so many things to accomplish. So much to fix and rebuild and create anew. The world will need time to get back into order after a century of conflict. These four years have been nothing but effort, from the moment Zuko was crowned as Firelord, to now when all of his friends are scattered across the nations.
So he’s here, came for a project spreading Fire Nation technology developed during the war, and also hopes to find some way to repurpose the abundant warfare machinery. It’s nice to venture out again, even if he doesn’t mind helping out with things back home. He does miss the days of constant travel, and the rush of new experiences.
At his core, Sokka is a worldly person.
The guards escorting him have halted just at the throne room doors, one announcing his presence in a manner that makes him seem like a bigger deal than he is. Up ahead, Zuko sits in full regalia in front of him, head snapping up from a long scroll. Instantly, Zuko heads toward him, embracing him in a firm hug, and a quick pat on the back. Yet they aren’t the only ones in the room.
The last time he’d seen her she was hanging off a cliff with just a hairpin keeping her in place. The princess descends from the dais as well, albeit slower and more graceful. Her eyes lock onto his with such a searing intensity that he feels a bit breathless. Before he knows it she is practically a step away, and there and then he bows. He thinks there is a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth, a flash of surprise for a split second.
She’s changed, at least from his memories of her. No longer does she wear armor of harsh lines and sharp edges. The robes that hang off her frame flow down to the floor in an elegant cascade. Her hair falls past her shoulders, a stark contrast to the tight buns and pins it used to sport. She seems smaller than he remembers, but that could simply be because he’s grown. Her features, however, remain familiar. There’s something about them that seems almost ageless. The arch of her brow, the slight curve to her nose, the way she tilts her head as she regards him. It feels like staring at a painting. The only other time he studied her this closely was when they were underground, with her firmly pinned against the wall under his hold.
“Princess.” He tries to sound natural, but he can’t help the edge of awkwardness that slips through despite all his might.
“Ambassador Sokka.” She inclines her head slightly. “It has been some time since we last met. You look very well.” There is fire burning behind her words. Her voice is different too, deeper than before, richer, somehow, like honey dripping from a spoon.
Well? That wasn’t exactly what he expected. His face feels impossibly hot, as do his ears. He forces himself to meet her gaze, to keep his composure in place. He isn’t sure whether to thank her or curse her for speaking to him like this. They had been enemies once, after all, but it seems like a lifetime ago.
Then again, the war is over.
“Thank you. You as well. It has been quite a while, hasn’t it?” he replies, and he can feel the tension between them. It’s heavy in the air; a sense of something unspoken hanging over them. His tongue runs over his lips nervously. Zuko moves to stand next to Azula, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder as if in silent support.
“Indeed it has. I hope you don’t mind me taking my leave. My duties require my attention.” She nods at him politely before turning to go. Sokka watches as she makes her way to a guard, who opens the door for her. She exits without looking back. He feels oddly disappointed.
“That went way better than I thought it would,” Zuko comments.
“I must admit I did not expect to see her during my time here.”
Zuko hums in response, catching the implied question in Sokka’s tone.
“It was hard at first, for both of us. The first year was especially rough. But things…” he trails off, seemingly trying to formulate his thoughts. “Things have improved, we worked through it eventually. We’ve both done some pretty shitty things to each other throughout our lives.” He meets Sokka’s eye, expression somewhat melancholic as he adds, “We can’t undo everything either, and I got lucky. I chose the right side. But ‘right’ means different things to different people and different circumstances.” A pause and then a nod, as if confirming a silent thought.
“Your sister seems to be the only topic you avoid in those letters of yours,” Sokka notes quietly. “I hadn’t realized just how much I had put her out of mind after the comet. Now that I think of it, I probably should have asked about her at some point, especially since how it ended—“
Zuko interrupts him quickly, cutting off any chance for the conversation to continue in an uncomfortable direction. “There’s no need. She’s fine and healthy, it wouldn’t do anyone good to dwell on it. After all, she’s my sister.” His voice is firm, unwavering.
“You truly sound like a wise and honorable man, Your Highness,” Sokka quips, unable to hide his grin.
Zuko huffs out a laugh, an exasperated yet fond smile on his face. He steps forward, giving his friend a light punch on the shoulder.
“Did I hear something about duties?” Sokka asks.
“Azula was always the one with the political prowess. She’s been a skilled advisor in every capacity, except maybe foreign diplomacy. But that’s on Kuei.”
Sokka chuckles, remembering bears at dinner tables.
The sun streams through the Agni Kai chamber window slats. The firebender in her rises with the sun and her body glistens with sweat as she goes through her routine training. Azula has always seen the great power in the azure of her flame. Its brightness reminds her to never let it go out, to smolder brightly for as long as Agni permits. It is a promise to herself she will never break. She would rather burn away than extinguish. Fire is her lifeblood, an extension of her soul, and she has no intention of losing it to this world that will not protect it.
She moves through her katas, one fluid motion after another. Every measured step is second nature. It's a dance, one she learned years ago and perfected over time. Her heart beats faster and she pushes herself harder and harder with every repetition. With each strike, her muscles stretch thin, and her mind grows clearer. She is fully committed to the mastery of her blaze, not acknowledging the figure surveying her in the distance.
Finishing a drill sequence, Azula turns to face him. His stare is fixed on her, but his face is unreadable. His posture is relaxed, arms crossed against his broad chest, fingers tapping idly along the length of his bicep. He's leaning casually against one of the pillars, eyes narrowed ever so slightly, lips pressed together. It is an oddly companionable silence between them.
“Is there something you wanted?” she asks when she realizes he isn't going to speak.
“No. I was just…” Sokka stops, shakes his head, and then looks directly at her again. “I’ve never seen you like this before.”
Azula raises a challenging eyebrow. “We’ve shared the same battlefield many times, Ambassador.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen your flames, but not when you’re free of combat. Not until now.” Sokka runs a hand through his hair. “You’re skilled Princess, you don’t need me to tell you that. But your bending is also beautiful.”
“And what does that have to do with anything?”
“I guess it doesn’t.” Sokka smiles faintly. “Just something I noticed.” He straightens up, turning to leave. “Well, I won’t keep you any further.”
“Ambassador.” Sokka freezes midstep and looks over his shoulder. “Thank you.”
So maybe Sokka hasn’t exactly got on with his plans just yet, but this right here, dueling with Zuko at the outdoor training grounds is exactly how he’d like to spend the rest of his day. He could use a little fun after not seeing his friend for so long. Plus, it seems like Zuko needs this too, everyone knows the crown is heavy on the head.
“You’ve gotten sloppy,” Sokka teases, moving forwards and swiping at Zuko. His opponent parries easily enough.
“It’s been a while,” Zuko replies with an easy grin. “I wouldn’t write me off just yet though.” Their blades clash against each other once more: Zuko with his dual broadswords and Sokka with his signature meteorite sword. They exchange friendly blows until finally, Sokka manages to gain the clear upper hand, dislodging one of the twin swords from Zuko’s grip. Zuko grumbles under his breath as he attempts to reclaim his sword only to have Sokka kick it out of reach. He persists until eventually, he loses the other one to Sokka as well.
“Zuzu—Brother!” A voice calls from behind them.
Sokka spins around to see Azula approaching them, hands on her hips. She regards him for a moment, looking him up and down appraisingly before addressing Zuko again.
“You do know you have a country to run?”
“Oh don’t start with that,” Zuko huffs, though there’s no real malice behind it. “Everything’s not going to fall apart just because I miss out on a few obligations.”
“What, pray tell, was worth ignoring council meetings for the whole day?”
“If you must know, I was entertaining the Ambassador. Foreign relations is part of the job.”
“Entertaining is right,” Sokka snorts, unable to keep himself silent any longer.
“Did the Firelord not hold his own?” Azula asks, looking anything but innocent. It’s an expression Sokka recognizes all too well; this time though, he welcomes it with open arms.
“Sure, but against me? I’m the best sword-bender you’ll ever find,” Sokka boasts, puffing up slightly.
“Swordbending?” Azula questions skeptically. “Best?” she echoes, sounding almost amused.
“You should come find out Princess,” Sokka taunts playfully.
“I thought you’d never ask,” Azula responds with equal smugness. Gathering her hair into a topknot, she motions to a nearby guard who hands her his palace-issued long sword. She holds the blade carefully as if examining it in her hands and admiring the way it reflects in the setting sun.
“Are you familiar with wielding a sword?” Sokka inquires, curiously.
“I was the one who took lessons from Piandao as a kid,” Zuko interjects. “Azula started firebending training early.”
“Well I wouldn’t say I’m clueless Zuzu, your girlfriend has taught me a lot.” Azula snickers. “After all, what is a sword but a larger knife?” she says, brandishing her weapon like someone who is too ready to have stumbled on this opportunity by accident.
In an instant, Azula strikes first, slashing forward at Sokka with such force that he barely blocks it in time. The sound of ringing steel reverberates throughout the air as they continue to trade attacks, circling the arena.
Sokka smirks, raising his sword high. “Okay, you’re competent,” he concedes. “But I guess that means I don’t have to hold back.” With that, he begins to spar in earnest, devoting his focus to strategically maneuvering any potential openings in Azula’s defenses. Azula uses her longsword in tandem with her feet, weaving around him deftly, light on her steps. It’s nothing short of incredible, watching her move as if the world were hers to command. She’s quick, agile, and deadly. Even still, he can’t help but notice the uncharacteristic slight falter in her footing, as though adjusting to the weight of her new weapon. He’s not at all surprised that even without bending, she still manages to put up a top-notch fight.
He feints right and then suddenly goes left, catching Azula off guard. With his sword, he twists hers out of her grasp. Using their momentum, he pushes her backward, knocking her onto her back, down on the ground.
“Yield,” Sokka tells her, leaning over her body, breathing heavily. Her raven hair is splayed out messily. In the dying sunlight, she looks absolutely ethereal, and Sokka takes a second or two to appreciate the sight; her cheeks flushed from exertion, her mouth parted slightly, golden eyes glazed over. This feels wrong somehow, despite how natural it feels to be this close to her.
“I suppose this is fair. You got to see mine, and I got to see yours,” Azula whispers suggestively in his ear, sending shivers down his spine.
“What?” He asks, startled out of his reverie.
“Your skill, Ambassador,” Azula giggles, a sweet melodic noise. ”…You in your element.”
Three days into his stay at the Fire Nation, Sokka is alerted of the rising tensions in Yu Dao; many of the Fire Nation population in the previous colony refuse to leave the town. He, Zuko, and Azula are in the Firelord’s study, discussing possible methods of management.
“Kuei’s adamant. He wants them out as part of the Harmony Restoration Project,” Zuko explains while pacing the room.
“You’ve already tried basic campaigns of persuasion I assume? Financial incentives, free housing on the mainland…” Sokka asks.
“Most definitely. The locals don’t want to be displaced,” Azula replies. “To my dismay, brute force is out of the question, we can’t afford anything that can shatter that image of a benevolent ruler.” Azula sighs frustratedly.
Zuko continues. “Reports on the ground say that they’re stubborn and willing to fight to stay. Any operation wouldn’t be pretty.”
“This has to be taken up with Kuei. Even if families were forcibly relocated back to the Fire Nation, I’m assuming that would mean a whole lot of Earth Kingdom citizens would follow,“ Sokka points out. “I doubt he’d be happy about that, considering the whole aim of the project was for decolonization.”
“Are you suggesting negotiations? We’ve tried communicating the circumstances via letter and Kuei reiterates the same sentiment,” Zuko admits.
“I’m saying this calls for direct diplomacy,” Sokka says firmly.
“The burden of the restoration project is on us, Kuei isn’t coming here, and I’m not comfortable with Zuko traveling just yet,” Azula speaks up. “I’m not sure simply someone from the Fire Nation court could exert influence.”
“I’m not thinking of the Firelord or some random councilman,” Sokka counters. “You, Princess.”
“Unless you’ve forgotten Ambassador, I may not be well received, courtesy of my coup back in the day,” Azula deadpans.
“That would also mean increased safety risks as well,” Zuko adds, looking at his sister who rolls her eyes in response as if to say I can hold my own just fine.
“She doesn’t have to go alone. I have goodwill with Kuei from the war. It might get him to listen.”
“It’s your call Azula. If you’re willing, it’s worth a try. But Sokka, I want her out of the Earth Kingdom at the first sign of trouble,” Zuko warns, crossing his arms over his chest in concern.
“I give you my word, but if they were to go after her with me around that’d be a matter to concern Aang with. They certainly don’t want the Avatar showing up on their front doorstep,” Sokka dismisses with a wave of his hand. “What do you say, Princess?”
Azula takes a moment before nodding her head. “For the good of the nation.”
Zuko exhales heavily and rubs at the bridge of his nose. “Alright, I’ll send a messenger hawk to Kuei first thing tomorrow so the both of you can set off soon.”
The wind whips in the air balloon as it moves through the sky. Azula stands with her arms wrapped tightly around herself. They’d chosen to travel just the two of them, trying not to appear as an imposing presence. A shiver creeps up her body, goosebumps rising on her skin just from the breeze. She feels him step up beside her near the edge.
“I’d say we arrive at Ba Sing Se in an hour.”
“This will not go how you want it to,” Azula mutters, eyes fixated on the horizon, a million miles away from home. “Not everyone can forget about what I’ve done. Or at least pretend to.”
The words leave her mouth and she can hear his sharp intake of breath. She glances over at him briefly, then looks back out into the nothingness.
“I haven’t forgotten,” Sokka says, voice low, but steady. “But I have forgiven, even when you do not need my forgiveness. And that, I think, is the difference between me and anyone who holds a misguided grudge.” He rests his elbows on the rim of the gondola. “I’m not saying you’re a different person now, but if you’re working to better the world instead of restoring the old regime…” His shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. “It all just comes down to what sides of the war we were born into, doesn’t it? We did not start this.”
Azula’s brow furrows as she tries to process what he’s said.
“Zuko defected. Technically, I could have done the same thing.” It’s a bitter truth.
“That would be an impossible standard to hold you to,” Sokka replies, and there’s a note of finality in his voice. “Don’t tell me you had Iroh guiding you like he did Zuko.”
Azula lets out a small laugh. “You’re right, I had my father.” A pause follows before she adds, “I did not ask for the title of Firelord, Ambassador, I had it given to me. I have always been loyal to the monarch and my nation. If my motivations were purely patriotic, would that be good enough for you?”
Sokka shifts his weight so he’s closer to her, their bodies brushing lightly. “Your loyalties are your right Princess.” There’s no accusation in his tone. “Fighting for your people? That’s a principle I can get behind.”
The silence hangs in the air. The only sound is the soft hum of the balloon’s propeller and the distant sights of the city grow nearer. She wishes they were flying somewhere else.
“We should think about descending soon,” Sokka suggests.
“Just tell me when to reduce the fire.”