The Sun and the Moon

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/25319119.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Relationship: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Characters: Sokka (Avatar), Yue (Avatar), Arnook (Avatar), Hakoda (Avatar), Kya
(Avatar), Zuko (Avatar), Katara (Avatar), Iroh (Avatar), Hahn (Avatar),
Tui (Avatar), La (Avatar), Zhao (Avatar), Aang (Avatar)
Additional Tags: Royalty AU, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Moon Spirit - Freeform,
Moon Child AU, Full Moon, Moon Phases, Unbanished Zuko, Royal
Visists, Enemies to Lovers, Starcrossed Lovers, unlikely lovers, unlikely
friends, PeachieFlame Royalty AU, Prince Sokka, Moon Spirit Sokka,
Waterbender Sokka, Maybe - Freeform, no beta we die like men, maybe
some beta, How Do I Tag, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I have no
idea how to write summaries, Royal Succession, the sun spirit, and the
sun loved the moon
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2020-07-16 Updated: 2020-08-09 Words: 12,011 Chapters:
6/?
 The Sun and the Moon
by comrade_uwu (russiansimp)

Summary

“You want to leave him here,” she murmured. They both knew it to be true, but to hear it
aloud somewhat shocked the Southern Chieftess. But she couldn’t deny it.

“I— it isn’t that I don’t want him. I love him with my whole heart, Laya, I don’t know what I
would do if he had died. But… I…”

“You want him to stay close to Tui.”

“I feel like if he leaves her, he’ll die.” She looked down to the boy, patting his back. “Does
that make me a terrible mother? Am I—”

“I feel it’s the best… I spoke with Tui last night, with Yue. She wants him here. He is as
much her son as yours. I feel… I feel as though he needs to be here.”
 The Moon

The Southern Water tribe didn’t know what happened in the North. Sure, they got snippets,
but it was really nothing of note. And yet, throughout her entire pregnancy, Chieftess Kya
had an inexplicable urge to take herself and her unborn son up to their sister tribe. It was not
a popular opinion, by any means. To have their next leader taken away to their traitorous
sister, to think what they may do to him there. It didn’t change her mind, though.

Her husband had no idea just how serious she was until she was begging to begin the trip.
She was babbling about the spirits drawing her, that something terrible would happen if they
stayed. And Hakoda, no matter how skeptical he was about her qualms, couldn’t stand her
paranoia, couldn’t stand seeing her in so much pain and fear. And her worries had gotten to
him, too—they had wormed their way into his dreams. Darkness and crying and a dead baby
boy in his arms. So he gave in. Finally, he had agreed to pack one of their better boats with
weeks of supplies, anything he could think of to make traveling more bearable for his wife.
Sailing pregnant could not be easy in any stretch of the word, and the inevitable discomfort
the trip would bring spoke volumes to how desperate she was to be with the Northern Tribe
when she gave birth.

Hakoda could hardly stand it, to watch his wife deal with morning sea sickness, to find her
hunched over the side of the boat, tears streaming down her face with the pain she was
enduring. He would sit beside her on those mornings, lovingly rubbing her back and
whispering encouragement into her ear. Kya would collapse into his lap when her nausea
subsided, draping her arm across her eyes to block out the sun. “You love him so much,”
Hakoda would mumble, stroking her hair gently. “You’re doing so much. You’re such a
wonderful mother.”

She would laugh, turning to lay on her side and curl her fingers around her husbands’. “He’d
better be grateful for it,” she’d mumbled, pulling her knees to her stomach.

Sometimes, late at night, Hakoda would emerge from the hull of the deck to check the stars,
adjust their sails for the wind. Occasionally, Kya would be knelt at the capstan of the boat,
staring up at the moon. He swore that sometimes, if he strained, he could hear her speaking to
it. It waxed fuller and fuller as their trip wound on, pushing itself into a gibbous now. He
never heard just what she was saying, but it brought some odd warmth to his heart. He’d look
at her, mumbling to Tui, and he’d have the strange feeling that she was speaking back to her.

When they finally landed on the shores of the Northern tribe, Kya was miserable and in pain.
She was waiting, at any moment, to go into labor. She was confined to a guest room in the
palace, midwives and healers caring for her, waiting on her hand and foot. At any other
moment, she would reject the pampering, but right now, she needed it. Sometimes, chieftess
Laya and Princess Yue would visit her. Yue was a newborn, only having come into the world
three months ago. She was growing into a proper little baby, one that would wriggle and coo
and grab. Seeing the Princess often made Kya’s heart swell, as she thought of the little Prince
she’d soon have cradled in her arms.
However, as fate would have it, that was not how her labor went. It was long and painful,
requiring several healers and her husband at her side. It was the wee hours of the morning,
the full moon illuminating the tribe in a soft silvery glow. After twelve hours of thrashing and
screaming, though, Kya felt no little feet kicking her thighs. She heard no screaming from her
little baby boy. The entire room went quiet.

“Get Arnook,” Yugoda whispered to a midwife. She nodded quickly, running out of the room.
Kya sat up, bloody and coated in sweat, to look at her son as the women around her cut his
cord and wiped him clean of blood.

“He’s breathing,” one assured her. “He has a pulse… but it’s weak…” she wound the boy in a
fur, pushing some of his thick, dark hair from his face. As he was set in his mother’s arms,
she began to weep. She wasn’t sure why, was it because she was seeing her son, or was it due
to the inconsolable dread in the pit of her stomach?

“He isn’t going to make it,” she choked out, more of a sob than any actual words. She looked
up to Hakoda, wiping her face. “He won’t make it.”

Arnook arrived soon after the birth. He frowned at the seemingly lifeless baby in Kya’s
embrace. “Hakoda,” he began. “Take him… come with me.”

The southern chief gently took his son from his wife’s arms. There were tears lining his eyes,
but he didn’t let them fall. Arnook led him over a bridge into a courtyard, a pool in the center
that perfectly reflected the moon. “This happened to my dear Yue,” he explained softly. “I
believe… I believe this is why your wife was drawn to give birth here.” He knelt by the pond,
and when Hakoda peered into it, he could see two fish. Black and white, circling each other.
Arnook clasped his hands in a pleading prayer, closing his eyes. “Tui… I know we have
taken much from you already. But, please…” he whispered. “Save the Prince.”

Hakoda, though he didn’t know what he was supposed to do, wordlessly knelt by the pond.
He slowly unwrapped his son, dipping his toes in the water. The white fish broke away from
her dance with the other, approaching the baby.

“Let her take him,” Arnook encouraged. Hakoda let go, watching as she cradled his head
above water with her body and brought her to the center of the pool.

Hakoda couldn’t quite explain what happened next. A blinding light that came from the pond
overtook his vision. He felt as though he was witnessing something he wasn’t supposed to.
When the light subsided, he watched in wonderment as the dark brown disappeared from his
son’s hair, slowly receding to pure white.

And then, he let out a cry.

Hakoda didn’t think he would ever be so grateful to hear a baby scream. Tears rolled down
his face as Tui returned him to the edge of the pond. His father gently pulled him up, cradling
him in his arms. He sobbed and kicked, and it put the biggest smile on his face.

“Thank you, Arnook,” he whispered shakily, holding his son to his chest. “Thank you, thank
you—“
“Thank the moon, brother,” Arnook smiled. “Let’s take the boy to his mother.”

Kya’s eyes snapped open when she heard the distant wailing of her child. She covered her
mouth, letting out a relieved sob. She let her head fall back, delirious in her relief. Her boy
was okay. He was alive, breathing, crying. And she couldn’t be happier to hear it. Her
husband soon reentered with the baby, a tearstained smile on his face. “He’s okay,” he
announced. “He’s okay. The moon saved him.”

“I told you,” Kya murmured, holding her hands out. Hakoda set the baby in her arms, who
she held close and tight. It took a moment, but she managed herself up, tugging her gown
open so she could feed him. He quieted then, contentedly eating in his mother’s arms.

“What are we to call him?” A midwife asked, placing a hand on Kya’s shoulder.

“Sokka,” she whispered. “Call him Sokka.”

Kya had very obviously not been fit to travel for a few months after giving birth. It wasn’t
until Sokka was four months old that she felt ready to return home, but something was
nagging at her.

She was stalling packing, just holding her son close. He was wrapped up and secured to her
chest, fast asleep in her furs. There was something inexplicably wrong with what she was
about to do. Like she couldn’t leave. After an hour of sitting there like that, someone finally
came to check on her. It was Laya, though she didn’t have Yue in her arms. She wordlessly
approached Kya, sitting down beside her. She gazed down to Sokka, smiling gently. He
reminded her so much of his own daughter. She had the same tugging issue as Kya, though.

“You want to leave him here,” she murmured. They both knew it to be true, but to hear it
aloud somewhat shocked the Southern Chieftess. But she couldn’t deny it.

“I— it isn’t that I don’t want him. I love him with my whole heart, Laya, I don’t know what I
would do if he had died. But… I…”

“You want him to stay close to Tui.”

“I feel like if he leaves her, he’ll die.” She looked down to the boy, patting his back. “Does
that make me a terrible mother? Am I—”

“I feel it’s the best… I spoke with Tui last night, with Yue. She wants him here. He is as
much her son as yours. I feel… I feel as though he needs to be here.” The two fell into silence
for a moment as they watched Sokka. Kya unwound him from her chest, waking the boy up.
He cooed, grabbing at his mother’s hand and pulling her finger into his mouth. “I will care
for him as if he were my own, Kya. I promise you that. And I will raise him with knowledge
of where he is from, of his culture. I swear it to you.”

Hakoda didn’t question his wife’s decision to leave their son. He couldn’t, because he had felt
the nag of Tui just as strongly as she had. They said their goodbyes, kissing the boy for what
felt like forever. Though they knew they would miss him more than anything, they did not
weep. They knew what they were doing was for the best.

From the ship, Kya watched as Laya wrapped him in the scarf she used to hold Yue to her
chest. The two began babbling and grabbing at each other, and Kya knew he would be happy
here.

Sokka was having a relatively good day. The sun was shining enough that the snow was good
for building. He knelt in the snow with a handful of young children as they constructed
snowpeople. Yue sat just on the edge of the clearing, watching them with a gentle smile. She
always adored how good he was with children. On the odd occasions that his father visited,
he had taught him about building the little figures, assuming he could have fun with the
children of the North with the game. And by spirits, did he. He knew Arnook had no taste for
the Southern game, but he allowed him to do it, if for nothing but the promise his wife had
made to the boy’s mother.

“His head is too big, Sokka, he’ll topple the second you let go of him!” Yue called, giggling
softly. She raised her hand to her lips to cover her open mouth. The princess was held to a
much higher standard than Sokka was. There were many times which he couldn’t tell if he
found that insulting or relieving. He knew how the people of the North felt about his native
tribe, seeing them nothing more as underdeveloped savages. Sokka served nothing to assuage
the prejudice. He was raised with Northern morals and manners, even if he did partake in
distasteful traditions from his home.

“Hush, I know what a proper snowman looks like!” He returned. Though, as soon as he
stepped back from the creature, it fell. “Okay… maybe I don’t.”

The children laughed in plain amusement. Sokka tackled one with a mock anger, though it
was a fall of fits and giggles. The other children joined in doing their best to restrain the
prince, effectively holding him down in the snow.

“Get off!” Sokka giggled like mad, not trying particularly hard to get himself free. Though,
when they noticed Chief Arnook appear beside his daughter, they scattered. Sokka frowned,
looking around.

“Sokka,” Arnook called, helping his daughter to stand up. “Come to the castle, son.”

“Coming, sir,” he replied, hastily standing and dusting the snow from his clothes. He ran after
the two, clasping his hands beneath the large cuffs of his sleeves. He knew right to not ask
why his fun had been interrupted, though Yue could tell he was disappointed. She patted his
back gently as they walked, though kept just as quiet.

It was only once they were inside the palace that they spoke. “We’ll be having a guest
tomorrow,” Arnook announced. Sokka had half the mind to ask if it might be his father or
sister, but he knew better than to do so. “Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation.”

“What?” Yue and Sokka exclaimed in unison.

“The Fire Prince?” Sokka asked. “Are you crazy?!”

“You shall not question my judgement, Young one. General Iroh sends him only in peaceful
visitation, my boy.”

“Peaceful visitation?” Sokka scoffed. “Will he not slaughter the entire tribe, then? Arnook, I
understand of which your authority pertains, but I simply cannot allow—“

“You can, and you will!” Arnook snapped, definitively. “To your room; you disrespectful—“
he sighed, attempting to calm his temper. “Without so much as by your leave, Sokka.”

The prince huffed, but nodded. “My apologies, sir. I will see to it.” He turned to leave, “it
was not my place.”

“It was not. I will speak to you about this at dinner.”

“Yes, sir.” He left the room, a scowl on his face. “Fire nation prince,” he scoffed to himself,
once he was sure he was out of earshot. He made it to his balcony staring up at the moon. It
was barely visible, though there was enough sunlight hitting it to barely show it in the blue
sky of the day. “He’s crazy, Tui! Bonafide insane! You would think—by spirits, you would
think, he would have learned his lesson. This is a war, we don’t just—”

“She isn’t going to help you change his mind,” Yue interrupted, appearing at Sokka’s door.

“Yue!” He spun around, grinning nervously. “You’re not, uh, gonna tell your dad I said any of
that, right?”

“I won’t,” she assured. “Because you’re right. But he won’t change his mind, and you know
it. It isn’t worth fighting.”

“It could be the death of us all, Yue. We can’t fight off a firebender—let alone a Royal
firebender! If this is a ruse, if he gets upset, if there is one small hiccup—”

“Hush up. The prince will be here tomorrow, just get used to the idea of being around him. It
will be fine. Plus, nothing a big strong warrior like you can’t handle.”

“I can’t even bend, Yue.”

“Not yet,” she corrected. “You are the son of the moon. She would not have saved you
without giving you her abilities. It’s a given.”

“It’s been sixteen years, Yue. I can’t bend now, means I won’t bend ever.”

“You just need to find your spring.”

“Whatever. Tell your dad I’ll be to dinner.”

She huffed quietly, turning on her heel to make it back to her own quarters.
Dinner was quiet. It was tense. Several courses in silence, without so much of an utterance of
tomorrow. Until dessert.

“Sokka,” Arnook began, “you’ll be the Prince’s companion for the duration of his stay.”
Sokka opened his mouth to argue, but thought better of it. “You two are the same age, you’ll
get along best. I’ll have you move to the Jack and Jill room above your normal quarters to be
there if he should need something in the night.”

“...Yes, sir.”

The ship before them was massive. Intimidating. All dark steel and sharp edges. It looked
like a naval ship, which just made Sokka distrust it more. The draw dropped onto solid
ground, revealing the ship’s passengers. An old man, two guards, and the prince.

He walked with his chin up, and Sokka immediately got the image of what this cocky bastard
would be like in his head. Yue placed a hand on his arm to calm him, but it did little in the
long run.

The prince kept his hands clasped behind his back as they approached the entrance of the
tribe. He could see the General motion for the guards to stay put a fair bit away from where
they were going. As they got closer, Arnook took a moment to bow. “General Iroh,” he
greeted. Then, turning to the other, he gave a more shallow bow. “Prince Zuko.” Zuko gave
no recognition beyond a small nod. What an asshole, Sokka’s head sneered. Now that he was
close, he could see the large burn scar covering most of the left side of his face. Probably
serves him right. “This is my daughter, Princess Yue. And Sokka, Prince of the Southern
Water Tribe.” Yue gave a warm smile, but Sokka offered nothing but a nod. This was going to
be a long few weeks.
 The Sun

The eldest prince of the Fire Nation was commonly known as a disgrace. Born in the
cadaverous darkness of a Solar Eclipse, when Agni was furthest from his people, he had the
cards stacked against him from the start. No matter how many times Ursa assured her
husband that he would grow into a great firebender, he was never dissuaded from his
thoughts about his son. She didn’t understand it, he had the blood of Fire Lord Sozin and
Avatar Roku in his veins. There was no reason for Ozai to doubt him. But the arrival of her
daughter only pushed Zuko further into the background, even when his abilities blossomed.

At age four, Zuko finally showed signs of firebending, and those signs were strong. He had
burned his nanny in a temper tantrum, and it quickly got to the point that Ursa had to find
him a teacher so he wouldn’t hurt anyone in his fits. She was always keen to praise her son
whenever he did something right. With all of his father’s beratement, she had to work hard to
even it out and guide him to grow.

Zuko knew that was where his sister’s resentment for her older brother started. Ursa still told
her she was proud. She still loved her. But in Azula’s head, she loved Zuko a whole lot more,
and she hated it. It led to a fiery hatred for both of them. Hurting Zuko whenever she could,
she’d claim it was an accident (even though everyone knew she was too good of a bender to
make such mistakes). She would burn her mother’s favorite flowers, always work harder to
please her father. Not even a mother could resist the forming distaste for her daughter.

And so, Ursa just spent more time with her son. He was kind, soft and patient. As much as he
loved bending, he rathered playing with his mother. Wooden swords, games of tag in which
he could show off his climbing. And when he was tired out, they would drink tea with his
uncle by the pond. Zuko would grind up seeds in his fingers, and gently scatter them for the
turtleducks that called it home. Eventually, it got to the point that the birds would follow
Zuko, eat right from his hand, even seek him out. The boy began keeping a sachet of seed on
his belt to feed the odd turtleduck that made its way into the castle.

But easy pleasures like that didn’t seem to keep by the prince for long. Vividly, he could
remember sitting in his room, when a turtleduck wandered in from the balcony. He smiled,
reaching for the bag of seed to feed it. It settled down on the tapestried rug before him, and
ate out of his hand for a few minutes. Azula had walked past his open door, and seen this
disgusting show of affection. She didn’t give a second thought to shooting a ball of flame at
the animal, and it lit the poor thing’s downy feathers up in seconds. When Zuko held the
charred body to his chest and cried, she had berated him for being a weak baby. How could
he weep so openly over something so miniscule?

He stopped keeping seed on him, then.

And Azula’s tormenting didn’t ease up after Ursa disappeared. She took advantage of, and
carefully manipulated, his vulnerable state from losing his mother. It was then that the prince
started to harden, shying away from his natural affectionate demeanor. He stopped feeding
the ducks, and he stopped playing in the gardens. At age eleven, he was spending the
majority of his time training, forcing himself to perfection. Iroh would watch over him, and
though he occasionally critiqued his form, his main reason for staying near him was to catch
him when he inevitably passed out from exhaustion. It was so often that he overexerted
himself to the point of unconsciousness, that it was a part of his routine. Wake, eat
something, train, pass out, repeat.

No matter how hard Iroh tried to ease out the same comfort the prince had had with his
mother, Zuko seemed to hate him. Iroh knew better, of course, but it was hard. Instead of
taking his praise, he would spin it around into an insult towards himself. If his uncle were to
tell him, “You’re improving,” he would ask if he thought he was terrible before. If he was to
suggest Zuko take a break, he would ask if it looked like he was tired, and redouble his
efforts. It was a game of gentle pushes met by aggressive pulls, and one day the rope would
burn.

“Prince Zuko,” Iroh interrupted, watching as he worked on a certain advanced kata.

“What do you want?” Zuko spat, finishing up the move. “You broke my concentration!”

“I’m sorry, dear boy. But, your father has asked if you would like to sit in on a meeting with
us.” That was enough to make Zuko stop in his tracks, singing the grass beneath his feet to a
sad black.

“Really?” He asked. His posture relaxed, no longer bracing for attack.

“In ten minutes, if you would like to join us.”

“Of course I would!” the happiness in his nephew’s voice made Iroh’s heart swell. He waved
him over, beginning back in.

Iroh really wished he had never stopped to ask his nephew if he wanted to join them.

As he heard Zuko beg for forgiveness in the arena of his first Agni Kai, he couldn’t help but
look away.

As he tended to his nephew for days, wondering whether or not he was going to survive the
wound his father had inflicted upon him, he couldn’t help but feel guilty.

Zuko had never smiled since that day. Their days were long, hard, but Iroh did his best to
make him happy. And he found some odd peace in essentially adopting the boy. He would
never be able to replace his son, but Zuko did a lot to help. Even if he was a hotheaded
hardass that rarely ever accepted hugs, even if he rarely ever agreed to have tea. Iroh had
learned the subtleties of how Zuko expressed love, and once he could recognize them, things
got better. For instance, when he was feeling awfully fond, a soft inflection overtook his
voice. It didn’t drown out the sharp edge, but it was noticeable enough. Or, the times he
would agree to stop training and eat. Even the routine they had fallen into of meditation
before bed. The boy was broken, but not irreparable.

It was what had given Iroh the idea of arranging Zuko a visit to the Northern water tribe. He
knew there were kids there his age, and honestly, the prince needed some friends.
Zuko wasn’t particularly happy with the whole affair, though. Even if it relieved his mind-
numbing isolation. Bending would be hard in the cold. Hell, just breathing would be hard in
the subzero temperatures of the tribe. Not that he would admit defeat and give in to putting
on a coat. No, he stayed in his regalia, his hair tied away from his face, staring out of the
hide to watch the approaching landmass. He was, honestly, terrified. His own people hated
him enough, imagine how the enemy would react! He was confident in his ability to kill them
all if the need ever arose, but Iroh warned him to not even think about it. No fighting,
hopefully. But Zuko made it clear that if something was instigated, he would waste no breath
in melting the tribe to the ground.

He flinched when the draw of the ship hit the ice, creating a crack. He sighed, beginning
down with his Uncle and two guards. He knew better than to show any lack of confidence,
which could be used as a weakness when worst came to worst. Iroh hated that his nephew
was approaching the situation as if it were a battle. But his paranoia hadn’t receded in three
years, he had no reason to believe it would disappear with a change of scenery.

The chief, the princess, and the prince were waiting for them when they arrived. Arnook
bowed, greeted, introduced. They made small talk. Nothing of interest, nothing of
importance. And then Iroh was gone. Iroh was gone and it was just Zuko, a prince who
obviously hated, a few royals who seemed indifferent, and a whole tribe of people terrified of
him.

He let his confident façade slip. He was suddenly very overwhelmed, and by Agni, cold. He
ran through his breathing exercises. He was fine. All was okay.

“Prince Zuko,” Arnook began, “We’ve arranged for you to stay in a room adjoined with
Sokka’s, if you need anything urgently in the night. I’m sure you’re exhausted from your
voyage. Yue, Sokka, would you be so kind as to show the prince to his room?” Yue nodded,
but Sokka said nothing. Arnook glanced back at a handful of servants, motioning to take
Zuko’s things with him.

The three broke away into a different hallway, headed by Yue. she glanced back at Zuko,
smiling some. “Cold?” she asked.

“Exceedingly,” Zuko offered a small grin. His hot breath produced an abnormal amount of
fog from his mouth. It made Yue giggle softly, nodding.

“I would say it’s something you get used to, but it seems it would be different for
firebenders.”

“Just a little. It’s nothing, princess. Thank you.” His politeness made Sokka roll his eyes. It
all seemed fake to him. Yue shoved Sokka gently, stopping at their room. Zuko looked
around in a childlike bewilderment. It was nothing like his own chambers. It was open,
draped in white furs and blue tapestries. There was no distinct smell of smoke and ash,
instead, it smelled of fresh air and snow. He took a deep breath, fog billowing out of his
nostrils— he looked like a dragon, Sokka thought.

“Well,” Sokka spoke for the first time since Zuko’s arrival. The Fire Prince jumped, seeming
to forget he was there, or perhaps forgetting he could speak. “Fireboy, do a trick. Light the
hearth.”

“Sokka, don’t be rude,” Yue murmured, shooting him a sideways glance.

“It’s okay,” Zuko assured. “Just give me a moment to warm myself up.” the prince knelt by
the fire, closing his eyes. He took a few deep breaths, though after a few of them, he held it in
his lungs. When he exhaled, it was all flames. It caught the dried kindling and wood, lighting
them up in a dazzling array of sparks. Sokka stepped back, almost as if he hadn’t expected it
to actually happen. Yue had to laugh at his surprised expression. Zuko settled himself beside
the new fire, grateful for the warmth.

“Oh,” was all sokka could manage. Zuko smirked a bit, looking up at him.

“You didn’t think I was bluffing about being able to bend, did you?” he asked. Sokka shook
his head, pulling off his mittens.

“It’s… impressive, actually.” Zuko smiled, moving to face the other.

“It’s hard in the cold,” he explained. “But I don’t…” he furrowed his brow when he noted
Sokka’s expression, which had gone from bewildered to angry. “Are you alright?”

“I don’t know how things work where you’re from,” he quipped, looking away. “But in the
Water Tribes, you don’t look a royal in the eyes when you speak to them.”

“...Oh.”

“Sokka,” Yue murmured, “Customs are different, I’m sure he meant no harm.”

Zuko nodded, looking down at his scarred and calloused hands. “I didn’t,” he affirmed
quickly. “It’s actually… respectful, among my court.” he tugged at his sleeves, clearing his
throat. “Some particularly cruel nobles will hurt those who refuse to make eye contact. It’s a
habit, I’m sorry.”

“Break it,” Sokka shook his head, coming to the window.

“Sokka,” the princess repeated. She knelt beside Zuko, smiling gently. “You’re fine, Zuko.
you didn’t know.”

Zuko sighed gently, a plume of yellow flames escaping his lips. “I apologize,” he smiled
nervously. “Uhm,” he began, now doing his best to change the subject. “When does the sun
usually set around here?”

“Right now,” she hummed, “About ten. But, in about a week, midnight sun begins. It will set
at perhaps one, and rise at three.”

Zuko cocked a brow. “Wait, what? Midnight sun?”

“Since we’re so close to the Axis,” Sokka began, “During the summer, we’re basically
always facing the sun. we just get a tiny bit of darkness in the mornings. Winter is the
opposite, we only get sunlight for about two hours in the midday.”
“And it’s dark the rest of the time?” Zuko sounded horrified. “That sounds…” he shook his
head.

“I suppose, if you don’t like the dark, it would be terrifying. But we celebrate the night.” he
waved it off. “Why do you care about sunset, anyways?”

“I—well, if i want to practice, I’d just ought to do it before sundown.”

“And away from the village,” Yue sighed. “Unless you’re asked to, it will scare the others. I
know it isn’t fair, but you’d ought to bend where no one can see you.”

“Well, I guess I’ve just got to find one then,” Zuko shrugged.

“You really take your bending seriously,” Sokka rolled his eyes.

“I do,” He affirmed. He pushed himself to stand, sighing gently. He spun on his heel to face
Sokka, pressing his palm against his fist to bow to Sokka. “I apologize for offending you,
Prince Sokka. Would it be out of line to ask if you could show me to a place where I could
practice my bending?"

Zuko quickly learned that he disliked the food of the Water Tribe. It was all salty and fishy,
something that he was thoroughly unable to force down his throat. Instead, he stuck to one of
the simpler dishes he was offered. It was a greenish noodle dish with a root vegetable broth,
and a fair amount of garlic. The root vegetables were what he was keen on: ginger, garlic,
wasabi, horseradish, anything with enough capsaicin to make a grown man cry. Arnook
promised that the next meal would be more to his taste. Zuko assured him that he was just
fine with what was given. He had packed some of his own food to snack on, he was sure he
would be fine.

“What kind of snacks?” Yue asked, doing her best to make polite conversation with how
dejected Sokka seemed. She set her fork down, clasping her hands together.

“Mostly fire flakes,” he hummed. “They’re little bits of dried chili dipped in powdered
capsaicin, they’re really good. But… definitely an acquired taste, if you didn’t grow up with
it. Mochi, too.”

“What’s a mochi?” Sokka asked, glancing up.

“Essentially a glutinous rice-cake. We fill them with sweet red beans, sometimes they’re
wrapped in bread. If that makes… any sense. You can have one, if you want. I have plenty.”

“I’m fine,” Sokka sneered. He wanted nothing to do with fire nation culture, even if it was
tasty.

Though, when he saw the snack, he had second thoughts. Zuko had retreated to their room
early to warm up, light the fire and meditate. Though, when Sokka entered the chambers, he
was draped on the balcony, eating what he assumed to be mochi. It was white and powdery,
filled with a dark red paste. He watched him for a moment, trying to figure out what exactly
he was doing. He just seemed to be staring at the moon.

Sokka sighed, approaching the other. He clasped his hands together, furrowing his brows.
“Might I ask what you’re doing?”

Zuko wiped his mouth of potato starch, swallowing the bite he had just taken. “I’m looking at
the sky,” he answered simply. “I… sail a lot. But I’ve never seen the moon so clearly…” the
full moon was staring back at the boys, lighting up the area. “It’s beautiful.”

“Isn’t she?” Sokka asked, automatically softening when the topic of the moon arose. “I love
when the moon is full. I… was born under a full moon.”

“I was too,” Zuko mumbled, his voice shaky.

“Really?” He asked, looking over. He cocked a brow, tilting his bed. He had heard that you
couldn’t see the moon from the Fire Nation. It was jarring to hear their prince speak so fondly
of her.

“Er, kinda.” He ran his finger along the railing, melting the ice coating it. “I was born… it
was full that night. I was born at the strike of noon, but it was under the moon, nonetheless.”

“Elaborate, sparky,” Sokka droled.

“I was born in the middle of a Solar Eclipse.”

“You say it like it’s terrible.”

“There’s…” he sighed softly, steam whisping off the edges of his breath. “There’s two very
bad times for a Fire Lord to be born. The winter solstice… and on the day of the black sun.
The eclipse.” He looked away, rubbing his arm.

“What’s… so bad?” He asked, actually turning to face him.

“I don’t know much about how you all think of the moon, but I’ve heard it’s similar to how
we see the sun. It’s thought.. it’s thought that the Sun Spirit blesses the Fire Lord at birth.
There’s a tale of him appearing to Sozin’s mother, and he took his hands, and he gave him
life. It’s thought that we have the sun’s fire itself in our veins. So, to be born while he has his
back to us… it’s not great. It’s impossible to bend beneath the Black Sun. Historically, we’ve
always been attacked, we’ve always died, beneath it.” He reached up to touch the golden
flame that held his hair from his face. “It probably just sounds like superstition, huh?”

Zuko had hardly noticed the fondness that overtook Sokka’s features. “Not at all,” he assured,
shaking his head. His hands emerged from his sleeves to rest on the railing. “I’m sure you’ve
noticed my hair.”

“I have,” he shrugged. “I assumed it was something from your guys’ mother.”

“Yue and I aren’t related,” Sokka hummed. “Not by blood, anyways. We were both born with
the same sickness. We don’t know what it was. But we were both born sleeping. Arnook took
us to the moon spirit, and she saved us. We both have her blood in our veins. It turned our
hair white. I live here because my mother was worried about what would happen to me if I
left Tui’s side.”

“Tui? Is that the moon’s name?” Zuko asked. Sokka nodded, tilting his head.

“What’s the sun’s name?”

“Agni.” He smiled fondly, looking to the horizon. “So we’re both kind of celestial bodies, in
a way.”

“I guess we are.” He closed his eyes. “I’m sorry she blocked the sun while you were born.”

“I don’t think it was her fault,” Zuko shrugged. “I don’t think Agni wants me to rise to the
throne. I think he wants my sister to. She was born on the summer solstice. And she’s always
been better at bending than me.”

“How old is she?”

“Fourteen.”

“We’ve got a scary amount in common,” Sokka chuckled. “My sister is fourteen.”

“Is she a better bender than you?”

“She’s a bender,” Sokka sighed, “I’m not.”

“I somehow… doubt that.” He looked back up to Tui, closing his eyes. “I didn’t get my fire
for a long time. My father didn’t think I was going to be a bender at all.” He frowned. “My
cousin was like that, too. He didn’t bend until he was seventeen. My uncle said it was
because he couldn’t find his spark. Then he fell in love, and he could suddenly bend.”

“Is he… a good bender, now?” He asked carefully.

“He’s dead,” Zuko answered bluntly. “He died on the front in Ba Sing Se.” his smile
disappeared, and Sokka could swear he saw the boy he was just talking to disappear. Like the
prince took back over. “It was a necessary loss,” he continued, standing upright. He held his
hands behind his back, turning on his heel. “My father always said, that, ’In war, there are
casualties. And those casualties bring us closer to victory.’ It seems to have worked for him
so far.”

Behind the stern façade, Sokka could see a grimace of fear. But he had been made up within
his sudden change. He turned to head to his portion of the room, folding her arms. Whatever
he had seen open up in Zuko’s vulnerability was shut behind closed doors, now. And Sokka
wouldn’t bother searching for the key.
 Midnight Light
Chapter Notes

I realized I kinda misled the plot last chapter. Nothing big tho. Sorry this one’s short, but
the next part of the chapter got a little too long for my taste.

Sokka was not a morning person. Not by any stretch of the word. He was a big fan of sleep,
and a big fan of staying up late. So, when he was woken at three o’ clock in the morning, he
was not happy. There were bumps and shuffles coming from across the hall.

He groaned, pushing himself up. Blearily, he made his way to the door, opening it to Zuko’s
area. He was already up and going, he was in some clothes Sokka hadn’t seen— a simple
jinpei and tunic, along with some boots, wrapping his first in yellowed bandages. “What on
the spirits’ green earth are you doing awake?” He mumbled.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Zuko said simply. His hair wasn’t pulled up yet, hanging down around his
face. It was an odd sight, for sure. To see him in such casual clothes, no crown… it was
weird.

“It’s three in the morning,” Sokka reasoned.

“But the sun is out,” Zuko reasoned. “And that means I’m awake.” He dusted himself off. “I
wake with Agni.”

“You’re going to kill yourself. You don’t plan on bending with three hours of sleep, do you?”

“I do,” he shook his head. “I won’t sleep until the sun sets, I promise you that.”

“What if you hurt yourself?” Sokka asked, looking away.

“Since when do you care if I hurt myself?” Zuko scoffed. In the week he had been here,
Sokka had not grown any more fond of him. In fact, it felt like he had just hated him more
and more.

“I—“ he sighed. “If you’re going to be doing something so dangerous, I’m going to come
with you.”

“I must again ask why you care.”

“I don’t know, okay? You’re going to hurt yourself. Okay?”

“If you say so,” he shrugged. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were worried
about me.” He ran his hand through his hair, beginning towards the door. “You remind me a
lot of my Uncle.”

“Who, General Iroh?” Zuko nodded. He scrunched up his nose, pulling on a cloak. “Why?”

“I think anyone that’s nice reminds me of him in some way. Sometimes my mother, but that’s
pretty rare. In the fire nation, at least.”

“Why do you…?” He tilted his head, following him out to weave through the halls.

“You don’t find many nice people where I’m from. So I guess mother and uncle are my only
two points of reference.” He looked down, kicking at the stone as he walked. “Yue does, kind
of. I saw her playing with the tiger seals on the shoreline, a little while ago. And I kinda saw
my mom, for a minute.” He let out a small sigh, shrugging. “The most stuff I remember about
her is sitting by the pond and feeding turtle-ducks.”

Sokka stayed quiet for a moment, opening his mouth a few times before finally settling on
something to say. “Is she dead?” He asked softly.

“I think so,” his voice wavered, something Sokka had yet to hear from the hotheaded boy.
“She went missing almost a decade ago. Six years, to be exact. They closed her case a year
later.” He shrugged, shaking his head. He almost hoped she was dead. He hoped she wasn’t a
war-ravaged refugee, a starving woman under some sort of hard military, he that earth
kingdom or fire nation. He’d had his own share of being banished, after all. The worst two
and a half years of his life. “Well, they said they closed her case. I have a feeling it was never
actually open.”

“That’s… heavy,” Sokka sucked in a breath, reaching to rub the back of his neck.

“You’ve never mentioned your parents. You know a lot about mine, return the favor?”

“I don’t know them too well,” Sokka admitted. “My dad used to visit twice a year, but he left
with the rest of the warriors on some mission a while ago. I’m not sure. My mom… well,
she’s dead.” Zuko gave him a glance, and even if he said nothing, his gaze begged to know
more. “She died in a fire nation raid six years ago, if I remember correctly.” Zuko flinched,
one side of his mouth tugging down.

“I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t like you were on that boat. How old were you, ten? You couldn’t have stopped
that.”

“That I could not,” he agreed. “My father does not take suggestions… or attempts of them.”
He involuntarily shivered, his hand touching his scar.

“I would assume so,” he nodded. “My mother never visited, though. I didn’t know her well
enough to mourn her too much, I guess…” he frowned. “That sounds so heartless.”

“I don’t think so,” Zuko shook his head. “Though, it may not be best coming from me. Plenty
of people have died that I haven’t mourned… a few, I celebrated.”
Sokka furrowed his brows, looking up at Zuko. They met eyes for the first time since the first
day he had been there. “Like… who?”

“You… can’t tell anyone if I say it.” Sokka nodded, folding his arms. “My grandfather.
Azulon, that is. He… he was cruel. They say that he died of a heart attack, but I don’t think
that was the case.”

“What do you think happened…?”

“I think my father killed him,” he said simply. “But I would be vault of treason if I accused
him of it. My mother was an herbalist, I know a poisoned body when I see one.” He waved it
off a bit. “Sorry, that’s awfully dark. It’s not something I should speak about.”

“It… yeah, it’s dark. But I wouldn’t put it past him, if I’m honest.” They continued to walk, a
heavy silence hanging between them. They really did have a lot in common. In many ways,
Sokka saw them as exactly the same. And yet, polar opposites. He ran through a timeline in
his head. They were born— well, a month apart, if he remembered correctly. He was pretty
sure that the solar eclipse had happened a month before he was born. Both blessed by their
respective celestial body. And then, around the same time, both of them became brothers to
prodigy sisters. Eight years later, they both lost their mothers. It was almost as if they were
different veins in the same body.

Except, as much as he disliked Arnook’s harsh parenting, it had to be better than Ozai’s.
“What’s it like, living with your father?”

Zuko stopped. What was he supposed to say? He hadn’t been around his father in years.
“Strict,” is what he decided on. “My Uncle has been functioning as my caretaker. A while,
though. I…” his eyes flitted up to Sokka’s. He had the sudden urge to divulge all of his
secrets. Like the words were scratching at his skin, begging to get out. He felt sick.

And Sokka could tell. He could see him pale, his skin taking on a more pallid tone. “Hey, are
you okay?” He asked. Zuko rubbed his face, not answering. “Zuko?”

“I think I’m going to vomit,” he laughed weakly.

“Oh— um,” Sokka looked around, noting where they were. He took Zuko’s hand, rushing
him towards the nearest washroom. He ushered the other in, watching him hang his head over
the basin. Sokka looked away when he heard him wretch, not wanting to see it.

“Sorry,” he heard after a moment, followed by the lid of the basin closing. “That— that
doesn’t happen.”

“It’s, uh, it’s okay, buddy.” Sokka patted his arm awkwardly. “You, uh, you okay?”

“I… don’t know,” Zuko rasped. “I need to bend.”

 Solar Flares
Chapter Notes

I'm sorry if this seems rushed or something. I'm really not good at dragging things out...
I'm just too excited for plot points and fluff lol.

“You’re…” the night air was humid, an uncomfortable feeling when it was so cold. “Bending
after sundown.” Sokka had gotten back to their room at midnight, after a small celebration
with the children. He didn’t notice Zuko’s absence, but he had seen the dull glow of fire from
the beach. It was odd for… spirits, so many reasons. There was how open the space was—he
was in plain view of the entire village. And… it was night. After sunset. Against his better
judgement, he went to join him on the beach.

His bending seemed strained tonight. not that Sokka had been paying attention. He hadn’t.
Ever. Nope. “Yeah,” Zuko gasped, just finding enough air for the single word as he kicked his
foot straight up. His body formed an exact vertical line (how was he so flexible?), mimicking
a candle with a flame atop. “Full moon. There’s enough sunlight,” he explained. He was
standing in a shallow puddle of water, his bending having melted the area around him.

“Interesting.” Sokka watched quietly as he ran through a couple more forms. When he
messed one up, he groaned loudly, allowing himself to fall back into the snow. It resulted in a
puff of steam, which quickly condensed into a thick fog. “Why are you even out anymore?”

“I can’t sleep,” he said, what seemed like the hundredth time since his arrival. “Nightmares.”

“What could you have nightmares about?” Sokka scoffed, sitting down in the snow beside
him.

“I don’t know,” he muttered. That was a lie. He knew exactly what and why. He knew it was
all spurred by the inevitable, knew they wouldn’t go away until his anxiety subsided. He
looked up at the sky, closing his eyes. “I have a really bad feeling,” he admitted. “Like…
premonitions. It’s ridiculous. But it’s making me paranoid.”

“I… know the feeling,” Sokka murmured. “What… kind of premonitions?”

“Maybe they’re just bad dreams,” he mumbled. “A certain general… and he comes here, and
he…” he rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know.”

“He.. what? What does he do?”

“It’s not even that sinister. I don’t know why it freaks me out so much,” Zuko continued. “He
just kills a koi fish.” Sokka froze.
“A… a koi fish?”

“A weird koi fish. It’s all white, no orange. But it’s got a little black spot on its head. It’s
always the same. And I wake up wanting to cry, even though it’s stupid. I—I haven’t seen
this guy in years, but— I don’t know.”

“Zuko,” Sokka looked up at the moon. “It’s okay. It’s…” he shook his head. Probably better
not to bring it up.

“It’s dumb. I’ve seen cities burn, I’ve seen battlefields of dead bodies. And this image of a
guy killing a fish, that’s what scares me?” He mumbled. “I’m sorry. I’m kinda laying a lot on
you, aren’t I?”

“It’s fine.” Sokka, once again, awkwardly reached out to pat his back.

He didn’t expect him to lean into it. Zuko reached up to wipe his face, willing the tears not to
fall. “Some Prince, right?” He flinched at his own words, looking down.

“Hey, don’t say that,” Sokka frowned. “You can’t be a worse prince than I am.”

“I can be,” Zuko insisted. “I probably am.”

“I doubt that. What could you possibly do to warrant such a bad rep, huh?”

“A lot,” Zuko whispered. “A lot I’m really not supposed to talk about.” Sokka frowned,
patting his head.

“Hey, I’m already privy to traitorous fire nation secrets. How bad could it be?”

“It’s bad. It’s bad and you’d probably kick me out if you knew.” He looked down.

“Zuko. Just tell me. It’s eating you alive, I can tell.”

“I…” Sokka watched as Zuko swallowed thickly. “I can’t go home.”

“Zuko, I won’t send you back, you—“

“No, Sokka. I can’t go home. I’m banished. Think about it, have you ever heard of me before
my uncle reached out? You only hear about princess Azula. I’m all but a ghost story to the
fire nation. You think you’re a bad prince? I’m a traitor. I’m thought dead.” He coughed a
bit, shaking his head.

Sokka went silent. As he tried his best to process that absolute bombshell, all he could think
to do was hug him. “You’re catching a cold. Let’s get you inside, okay? I can light the fire if
you aren’t feeling up to it.”

Zuko nodded, sniffing slightly. Sokka helped to pull him up, wrapping his arm around his
shoulders. “Why are you helping me?”

“I don’t know.” He smiled a little bit, leading him inside.

Once they got back to Zuko’s portion of the room, Sokka turned his back to him in order to
allow him to change. He’d pulled on some silk pants, undoing his hair and sitting down.
Sokka couldn't help but want to cry when he looked back.

Zuko’s scar was a lot worse than he initially thought. It crept from the top of his forehead to
his ear, snaking around his jaw to paint his shoulder, arm and back in an angry red. The skin
was bubbled, rippled, melted and forced back together under bandages and tight, armored
clothes. The edges were blanched down to the muscle, barely having reached the height of
the rest of his skin. Zuko caught him staring, offering an awkward smile. “Ugly, isn't it?” He
asked.

“How… How long have you had that?” He asked, slowly approaching the other. The skin
tugged taut as he shrugged—by gods, it looked like it hurt. And yet, he had done far more
demanding moves just that night on the beach. There were areas, right below his arm, at his
jaw, where the pattern of the scarring changed. He could only imagine that it was from the
shearing tissue tearing when he moved just too quickly.

“About three years,” he mumbled. He flinched when Sokka’s cold hand landed on the
delicate flesh of his shoulder. But, he quickly found he didn't mind the contact. Even after all
this time, the scar retained heat when it could, causing a constant burn whenever he got too
hot, too close to his own flames, even just slinking into a warm bath. The icy touch was
foreign, and it was lovely. He found himself leaning into it, and Sokka got the hint, holding
his palm against his back.

“Do I even dare ask how you got it?” He could see Zuko wince at what had to be an awful
memory. He could practically see the trauma running behind his eyes.

He shook his head. “Not yet,” he murmured. And Sokka didn't press.

“I'll be back,” was the answer, rather. And he disappeared. Zuko sighed, reaching to rub his
unmarked eye. He didn't know why he was talking so much right now. At first, his careful
politeness was nothing but a tactic. Just to keep himself here until his target inevitably
showed up. But now… he was acting out of pure vulnerability. And he felt like Sokka knew
that. He stared at his hands, frowning. He was letting his emotions get to him, and he knew it.
But… he didn't mind it. He had spent far too long shoving them away, and feeling human…
feeling human felt nice.

He was knocked from his thoughts by Sokka's reentry. He was holding a jar and a cup. He
first shoved the cup into Zuko’s hands. It was a familiar smell and color. “Saint John’s wort?”
He guessed.

“How did you know?” Sokka asked, sitting down beside him and opening the jar. It contained
a clear jelly substance.

“My mom would give this to me whenever I was upset,” he murmured. “Uncle makes me
drink it when I overwork myself.”

“Then you know you’d ought to drink it,” Sokka hummed, scooping up some of the jelly.
“I'm gonna touch your scar, okay?”
“Okay.”

He jumped at the contact, even if he knew it was coming. Sokka gently rubbed whatever was
in the jar into his scar, and spirits, it felt heavenly. “What is it?” He asked.

“Spirit water, aloe, and agar. It won't fade it, but it might make it feel a little better, and stop it
from tearing,” he explained. As he felt around the different areas of the scar, he put together
an image of the injury in motion. The flames had been directly against his eye and ear. Full
thickness burns. He had put his arm up in a vain effort to block the heat, putting third degree
burns along his forearm. Second degree burns had traced everywhere else. He was sure they
had bled for weeks. “Why didn't you bend the flames away?” He asked softly.

“I…” he froze up, sipping at his tea. “I just didn't. I would rather not talk about it.”

“Of course. Sorry,” he murmured, rubbing the balm into the warm skin beneath his fingers.
Once he had covered the entirety of it, there was only a handful of jelly in the pot. “You don't
take very good care of this thing. It’s so dry.”

“Saltwater,” Zuko gandered.

“Didn't take you for the swimming type.”

“I'm not. I'm the… sailing and fighting on the hull, getting chucked overboard, type.”

Sokka didn't ask. And he was grateful for it. He couldn't take any more truth bombs right
now.

“Can…” he shook his head, closing it.

“Can… what?” Sokka dragged.

“Nothing. It’s stupid.”

“It isn't,” Sokka chided. “What is it?”

“I… was just gonna ask for a hug. It's stupid.” There was a scoff, then cold arms around his
shoulders.

“Call me if you have nightmares,” Sokka cooed. “Try to sleep past sunrise, buddy.”

“I’ll try.”
 Reflections
Chapter Notes

Since SOMEONE tried to HEX the MOON Tui will get lots of love in the next chapter.

I mean honestly who hexes the fucking moon.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Sokka didn’t expect Zuko to take his advice in trying to sleep in. But, come seven o’ clock,
he was still wrapped up in the several blankets that were piled high on his bed. He couldn’t
tell, but he thought he was on his stomach, staring at the sun from where he sat bundled.

“You slept in,” Sokka remarked. He was already dressed and ready for his day. He could see
the blankets move in a shrug, putting a sideways smile on his face.

“I tried,” he mumbled. “I more of just… laid in bed since I woke up?” He tried. He began
unwinding the blankets to sit up, crawling out of the cocoon he had made for himself.

“How is your scar feeling?” He asked, sitting down on the bed. Zuko sighed gently,
shrugging. What was he to say? Sure, the care he had received was nice, but it was a three
year old scar. It still hurt. It still felt tight. It still burnt. It still carried memories he didn’t care
to remember.

“As much better than a three-year-old scar can feel,” he settled on. “Thank you, for that. By
the way.” he looked away, blinking a few times.

“Does it feel any less tight?” Sokka asked, gently running his fingers over his left cheekbone.
The other flinched, wincing away. He frowned, tucking his hand back into his sleeve.

“No,” he said simply. He pushed himself to stand, going to the small mirror that had been set
up on a vanity beside the window. The desk was very particular—there was a wooden comb,
a red ribbon, and the golden flame he’d fasten to the bun. The mirror itself was covered, and
it was only revealed for him to do his hair. He pulled away the cloth, taking the comb to
brush his hair up to the top of his head. He twisted it and folded it over, keeping it in place
while he grabbed the ribbon. He used it to secure the bun, tucking the tails inside. He then
grabbed the hairpiece, pinning it in place. Sokka observed as he tossed the covering back
over the glass.

“May I ask why you keep it covered?” He asked softly, guilt flooding his head when he saw
the slightly forced, pained smile that tugged up the right side of his lips.

“If I start explaining it, I'll probably cry,” he shrugged, making his bed up and placing the
pillows where they went. “You asked me how I got it last night. My scar, I mean. Uh, it’s…
 it’s pretty bad. And I seem to relive it whenever I see it. Better to only see it when I have to.”
He closed his eyes, grabbing his tunic to tie on. “I was training in the gardens, and my Uncle
came in, and he told me I could sit in on a war meeting with my father and the counsel. And
in my head, it was the best thing in the world. My dad finally invited me somewhere, and it
gave me a chance to start helping my country. You know?” He pulled at the silk of his pants,
keeping his eyes down on his hands. “Honestly, I remember it too well. It repeats in my
dreams a lot. Basically, they were talking about occupying an area on the earth kingdom,
talking about how they had a really strong army. He recommended a group of new recruits.
And, someone asked, well, how do you expect them to survive?” He went quiet. “And Bujing
said, ‘I don't. They'll be used as a distraction while we mount an attack from the rear. What
better to use as bait than fresh meat?’ and I thought, well, that isn't fair. And so I spoke up.”

“Of course you did,” Sokka scoffed. “That’s a terrible plan—to know your men are going to
die, and still move forward with it?”

“Exactly. But… it would have been better if I didn't. Cause they were still deployed.” He
rubbed his arms, pulling his knees up to his chest. “See, my dad saw that as the worst
disrespect I've ever shown. So he challenged me—I was thirteen, and I remember being on
my hands and knees just begging for his forgiveness, telling him I couldn't fight my own
father—” his voice caught in his throat as it closed up. He gasped, making a pitiful sob.

Sokka stood frozen, the tears clicking in his head. “Ozai—your father, did that?”

“I-I— I remember… he took my cheek, and I thought I was getting through to him. Thought
that he would let me go. But then it was just pain and melting skin and the smell of burning
flesh. And I backed up, and I… I wasn't thinking right. I didn't want to bend it back to him. I
didn't want to hurt him. I just held my arm up, you know, like how you would block any other
element. But fire isn't like that.” He ran his fingers over his arm’s scars. “Uncle said he
thought I was dead. Like, from shock… When I woke up, it was three months later, and I was
on a ship… and I was banished. Father told the country I had died, and the bastards
celebrated.” He scoffed, wiping his face. “Agni, I'm sorry. It's been long enough, I shouldn't
keep crying about it.”

There were arms around him now, enveloping him in soft fabric and warmth. Sokka’s hand
was rubbing his spine, doing his best to calm the other down. “I'm so, so sorry, Zuko,” he
whispered. “No one should ever go through that. Ever.” He allowed the other to finally just
break down, cry on his shoulder. “I… gotta ask. Tell me if you don't want to answer, that’s all
good, but… if you're not crown prince anymore, why the visit? Why the regalia?”

“I don't want to answer.”

“That’s okay, buddy. You don't have to tell me. How… how about we go eat outside? You can
soak up some sun.”

“I…” he thought, quietly sighing. “I think I would like that, yeah.”

Chapter End Notes

To those of you confused about my ramblings of lunar cursing: a small coven of new
witches committed the cardinal sin of witchcraft. Dumbasses hexed the whole moon
(AND THE FAE) and now all the gods are mad and holy shit my motivation to write has
gone down the shitter since the new moon passed. Anyways one of them died which you
would think would be enough to tell them they did a bad thing but no they wanna curse
the sun, sea, and underworld now holy shit
 Blizzard

It had never snowed in the Fire Nation. Not really, anyways. So, when Sokka saw the telltale
heavy storm clouds creeping over the horizon, ever traveling north towards their small glacier
island, he thought he’d ought to let Zuko know. He figured the prince was somewhere hidden
outside, behind an embankment, in a cave that let in enough sunlight for him to work. The
problem was, there were a hell of a lot of places he could be hiding, and he was meant to be
hidden. The only thing that helped Sokka track him down were prints.

He’d been trained to track animals, but Zuko was a little easier. His footprints melted, quickly
refroze, leaving smooth ice wherever he stepped. And the pointy toes. No one in the tribe
wore those. It was almost comical—how much Zuko insisted one wearing his own clothes.
They were mostly thin silks or heavy armor, things that couldn’t be comfortable in the cold.
But, he was always warm to the touch.

He found him in a glassy ice cave, light leaking in through the frozen over windows in the
stone. He was doing katas that Sokka hadn’t yet seen him practice, much more advanced than
he thought firebending even went. In some sort of spinning kick, Zuko spotted Sokka’s
entrance. He groaned a bit, missing his landing after the distraction. He landed in the snow
with a burst of steam, sighing heavily.

“Hey,” he huffed.

“Hey,” Sokka returned with a laugh. “Sorry, did I scare you?”

“Scare?” he asked, sitting up and flicking water off of his shoulders. “No, maybe… Ugh, I
didn’t meditate this morning, I was bound to get distracted sooner or later.” he rubbed his
face, climbing to his feet.

“I’m sorry,” he offered, walking further into the cave. “I came to go ahead and get you.
There’s a storm coming, you’ll get snowed in if you don’t come back now,” he warned. He
extended a gloved hand to help him through the boulderous packed ice and snow. Zuko
carefully grabbed it, trying not to slip as he clamored over.

“Is it going to snow?” he asked curiously, letting go quickly after the two were in the
sunlight.

“Yeah. Hopefully it isn’t a bad blizzard, I don’t want to deal with that right now.”

“I’ve never seen snowfall,” Zuko considered. “Well, real snow.”

“What do you mean—is there fake snow?” Sokka chuckled, shaking his head.

“No, there isn’t. But… there’s ash. That’s what we got—it looks like snow, so we call it
snow. Whenever there’s a particularly violent altercation, we got maybe two inches. Ash is
better than soot, though,” he sighed. “It’s black, it stains, it fills up your lungs and coats your
throat. Soot comes from bad, bad fights. Cause, people don’t ash. People turn to soot.”
“What… do you mean?” Sokka asked.

“When someone burns to death… they turn to soot and dead smoke. Sometimes their bones
will turn to ash, but that’s only when the fire’s super hot. Soot means people are dead,
normally. Especially with a certain smell—it’s sickly sweet, so sweet that it makes you gag.
And then you mix that with all of the smoke and…” he shook his head. “Black snow is no
good,”

“Jeez,” Sokka murmured. “Yeah, hope we don’t get that. Don’t know why we would, but.”

“Hope you never have to see it,” Zuko shrugged as the two entered the boundaries of the city.
It was oddly loud—everyone seemed to be outside, despite the approaching storm. “What’s
going on?”

“I’m… not sure,” Sokka began, jogging forward towards where everyone was. Yue was even
out, and immediately began approaching Sokka.

“Sokka!” She began excitedly. “Your sister is here!” well, that explained that.

“She is?” he grinned, breaking into a full sprint. She giggled as he passed her, looking back to
a very confused Zuko. When he made it over, she began explaining.

“Sokka’s sister used to come up every now and then when his father came to visit.”

“Oh, so, I’m assuming she hasn’t been here in a while.”

“She hasn’t,” Yue confirmed. “She’s saying her hellos before the blizzard starts. And she
brought a friend,” she grinned.

“Good for her?” Zuko shrugged.

“Yeah,” she hummed. “I think Sokka will like him.”

“Oh. Cool,” he shrugged, feeling an odd pang of jealousy. The two entered the crowd,
continuing casual banter, neither of them paying attention to the people around them.

That certainly turned out to be a mistake.

“You!” a vehement voice rang out. It made Zuko jump, his attention snapping to where it
came from. The girl who had snapped at him had to be Sokka’s sister—they looked near
identical. But even though she was the one who had spoken, his eyes went to the ‘friend’ she
had brought along with her. Just his luck.

The Avatar.

“Oh, Agni,” He muttered, taking a few steps backwards. This was not something he needed
right now, not while he was so secure. A lash of snow hit his face, knocking him down onto
his back. He wasn’t sure if it had been the Avatar or the girl, but his skin was raw from the icy
impact.
“Zuko!” Sokka was by him in an instant, quickly flicking the snow off of him as it melted.
“Katara, what in the world was that?”

“I’ll raise you one better,” the girl—Katara—hissed, “What in the world is Scarface doing
here?”

“Katara!” Sokka scolded.

“I have a name,” Zuko hissed, leaning into Sokka.

“He’s right,” the Avatar shrugged. “Scarface is kind of a low blow…”

“Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't catch it when he—” she stopped when Zuko frantically motioned for
her to just shut up. “What?!”

“Talk to me first, before you go yelling about—that.”

“About what?” Sokka asked, which just made Zuko shake his head. “You’re shivering—let’s
get you inside,” he instructed, gently pulling him up to his feet. He shot an icy glare at his
sister, before helping Zuko inside. “Jeez, I'm so sorry, I don't know why she—ugh. Do you
guys know each other?”

“Her?” He asked as they entered the castle. “No, I—” his teeth were chattering now. “She
was with the Avatar when he… he incapacitated my ship, ugh,” he coughed. “I'm sorry, I'll be
okay.”

“Why on earth did he incapacitate your ship?” Sokka asked, opening the door to Zuko’s
room.

“I’ll… I'll explain if they choose to speak about it with me.” The Fire was still burning in the
hearth, so Sokka set him down by it, along with a blanket. “Thank you,” he mumbled.

“Yes, of course,” he sighed. “Man, I'm really sorry she called you that. That was really
uncalled for.”

“Hey, it’s my most defining feature,” he laughed weakly.

“That doesn't mean…” he sighed. “They’ll be back in here soon. I'm gonna stay if she talks to
you and—jeez.”

“Thank you,” Zuko mumbled. “It means a lot, you know. That you, uh, care that much.”

“As much as I wanted to hate you when you got here,” Sokka hummed, sitting down beside
him. “You’re really growing on me.”

“Don't say that,” he mumbled. “You probably won't like me once your sister and I talk.”

—
Katara didn't knock when she and Aang entered the room, where Zuko and Sokka were
drinking tea and joking about. Zuko nearly spilled all over himself when she slammed it
open, only steadied because Sokka grabbed his wrist.

“Katara!” Sokka scolded, watching as the Avatar closed the door behind them.

“Save it,” she growled, marching up to Zuko. “What are you doing here?!”

“I’m staying on visitation,” Zuko replied calmly, though he averted his eyes.

“Really?” She scoffed. “Because I have a feeling you knew we were going to show up.”

“How on earth would I know that?”

“Because this is the only place Aang can get a waterbending teacher.”

“Oh, forgive me,” Zuko bristled. “I assumed he didn't need one, based on what he did to my
ship!”

“That was Kuruk, actually,” Aang interjected. “I mean, you totally deserved it, though.”

“We had an agreement, one that you broke, might I add, I feel I made it clear I have no
intention to hurt you.” He closed his eyes. “Besides, you threw a fire bender into ice cold
water.”

“I didn't break it, technically. I said I would go with you, I never said I would stay with you.”

“I assumed that was implied!” He snapped, then sighing slowly. “I am here for reasons that
do not concern you in any way.”

“Besides,” Katara scoffed, “I thought you said you were going home.”

“I would be home, if he would have cooperated!”

“Hold on, hold on,” Sokka interjected, “what does the Avatar have to do with you being able
to go home?”

“It’s…” he sighed, smoke billowing from his nostrils. “My father has a caveat. And that is all
I wish to say about it.”

“No, please continue!” Katara growled. “What is your obsession?!”

“Katara,” Sokka hissed.

“Why are you taking his side?” She groaned.

“Because! He’s—I’m—” he shook his head. “Some things need time to talk about.”

“Just let me strike a deal with you,” Zuko sighed. “Until my task here is complete, I won't
hurt you, and you won't hurt me.”
“Why on earth would we trust you?” Katara spat.

“He won't hurt you,” Sokka set down his cup. “He can barely bend, now that he’s freezing.”
He reaches over to Zuko, touching his cheek gently. “You're warming up,” he murmured.

“I'll be fine,” Zuko mumbled. “Even if I did want to fight you, I wouldn't bend combatively
in a city of ice. I would only fight another fire bender like that, here.”

“You had no problem bending when you were in the southern tribe.”

“Well, I'm sorry, I thought an avatar of one hundred years would know how to firebend by
now!” The ceramic of his teacup cracked beneath his rapidly heating fingers, letting the
liquid spill onto his feet. “I am offering you a week or so of not having to worry about me,
which, I don't need to do! I could abandon my task here and take you immediately! Now, I
ask you get out before I lose my temper!”

“Zuko,” Sokka cooed. “Breathe, please.” He gently set a hand on his shoulder, trying not to
flinch at the hot metal his fingers rested on. Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his
head.

“I apologize,” he muttered. “But please, get them out.”

Sokka looked up to his sister, making a shooting motion. “Please.”

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