Chapter Text
The way back to the Air Temple was far quieter than Sokka had expected. He hadn’t dared to fantasize their return much while in the middle of the Boiling Rock but when he had, there had been a lot more cheering and laughing.
It hadn’t taken Ty Lee long to quiet her sobs – if there was one thing the Fire Nation did well besides colonizing, war-mongering and general evilness, it was suppressing emotions – and she had been dry-faced and silent by the time the gondola had safely reached the outer rim of the volcano. She had been calmer and quieter than Sokka had ever seen her as she led them to the giant, ostentatious war balloon Azula had commandeered to bring them to the Boiling Rock. Sokka had expected questions from the others after they had boarded the war balloon but no one seemed willing to break the silence that had befallen them.
Zuko had made a quick escape to the back of the balloon, where the furnace waited for a firebender’s blazing touch and Ty Lee had followed, seemingly unwilling to be apart from him. Sokka had worried the girl would blame Zuko for Mai’s capture but there was no anger on her face as she leaned against the wall next to him and whispered in a hushed voice. Sokka had never once thought the vivacious, hyperactive girl could be quiet to save her life but she spoke so lowly that not a single word traveled back to the rest of them and Zuko’s responses – few and far between – were just as silent.
Zuko had to be exhausted – he had fought fiercely at the Boiling Rock, even after being a prisoner, and that final move, that blinding blast of flames that had ripped out from his mouth had to have taken a lot of him. Sokka wasn’t even sure how someone could survive breathing actual flames, let alone remain standing and fuel a giant war balloon, but Zuko didn’t look fazed in the slightest. Sokka might have called him out for it and insisted that Chit Sang take over the firebending, but he suspected that Zuko wanted nothing more than to be in the little corner as far away from everyone else except Ty Lee as possible.
He couldn’t really blame him. Zuko had done his best to keep his orientation as quiet as possible – he had only let them know the truth because Aang had discovered him in a full-blown heat back at the Air Temple after all – and all that hard work had gone out the window with his sister’s cruel, casual words. Sokka couldn’t imagine speaking such horrid words to anyone, let alone his own sibling, but Azula had torn Zuko apart with ease. And what she had accused him of –
Sokka couldn’t imagine calling anyone what Azula had called Zuko, let alone his own sibling, but the Fire Princess had said it just as casually as Sokka might have called Katara smothering or Aang naïve, as though it was simply banter. Had anyone used that kind of language back home, Gran Gran would have washed their mouths out with the crusty end bits of soap, no matter their age or power. Had anyone dared to say it to an omega, particularly an underaged one like Zuko, just because they were hanging out with alphas or betas, Sokka didn’t know exactly what she would have done but it wouldn’t have been pretty.
Sokka knew that the Southern Water Tribe was relatively lax when it came to omegas socializing with alphas and betas. There simply weren’t enough people left in the southern villages to care whether an omega child was roughhousing in the snow with other omegas or alphas and even if there were, Sokka knew a lot of people in the South had come from the North to escape the rigidity of tradition so he rather doubted that it would matter. Omegas had their private affairs, their sacred rites that the other orientations weren’t privy to, just the same as alphas and beta men had their hunts and beta girls had their – well Sokka didn’t know what they had but he knew Katara had gone off with other women once right after she had presented at twelve and refused to ever tell him what had happened even when he had begged her for a week straight. But those were the only times they were kept separate and there was no issue with them mingling with others, at least from what Sokka had seen amongst the adults, before the men had gone off to war.
He could have maybe expected Azula’s accusations had she been Northern Water Tribe – spirits knew it had been a scandal just for Yue to be hanging out with him while betrothed – or perhaps Earth Kingdom, where omegas were kept cordoned off from the outside world as much as possible – but it seemed even more bizarre to have come from the Fire Nation. Sokka didn’t know much about Fire Nation culture – he had kept his distance even amongst the Fire Nation citizens and the closest he had gotten to their culture was staging a protest dance party for children and the small debacle where Katara had destroyed a factory in the name of some local spirit lady – but it seemed wrong for a culture that had no qualms sending out their omega prince to sea on a warship to care that he was hanging out with alphas.
It was a ridiculous, stupid thing and Sokka shouldn’t be dwelling on it when he could have been basking in the elation of rescuing his father and Suki, but he couldn’t get her words out of his head.
Zuko hadn’t even seemed that upset about them; he had stiffened up but he hadn’t lost his temper or yelled like he had at Sokka. Almost like he was used to it. Almost like he believed it, a little bit.
But that was ridiculous. Calling an omega a whore just because he chose to hang out with non-evil alphas over his warmongering family was stupid, archaic and –
Really only marginally worse than thinking they shouldn’t fight or thinking they needed to protected at all costs.
Azula had been terribly out of line, but Sokka hadn’t really acted much better. Even after Zuko had told him multiple times to knock it off, he had stubbornly held onto the idea that Zuko needed to be protected.
Zuko could breathe actual flames from his mouth. He didn’t need anyone to protect him, omega or not. Sokka had been nearly just as insulting as Azula when he had repeatedly suggested otherwise.
Oh spirits. He knew already he had really messed up but this was on a different level. He had treated Zuko nearly as bad as Azula did.
So lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice anyone coming beside him until a large hand clasped firmly on his shoulder.
He had just gone through a very stressful few days, it wasn’t his fault that he nearly jumped a foot in the air at the sudden touch.
“It’s just me, Sokka.” His father’s voice was warm with amusement as he spoke quietly. Sokka only relaxed a fraction. He knew his father wasn’t going to hurt him but the idea of a full-on Dad lecture wasn’t a much better prospect. Rather than turn to his father and acknowledge the oncoming dressing down, he cast a glance at the rest of the balloon. Chit Sang had evidently grown bored of just standing around in silence and was now rummaging through drawers and compartments on the sides of the war balloon. Suki was hard to spot for a moment as Sokka had expected to see her still standing near Chit Sang and his heart nearly stopped when he saw where she had gone.
Probably she and his dad had planned it together, a two-pronged attack wherein Sokka got yelled at and Suki interrogated Zuko without fear of interruption. It was unfair how well the two of them knew Sokka, to figure the only way either could approach Zuko without Sokka getting involved was if he was distracted.
Sokka was well past stupidly thinking Zuko couldn’t handle himself in fights but he had no idea if he could handle talking with Suki.
Then again, he thought with no small amount of justified self-pity as he finally turned to face his father, he would much rather get interrogated by Suki back on Kyoshi Island with the Unagi ready to eat him than deal with his father’s disappointment.
Hakoda had seen a lot of terrible things in his life. He had only been five when he’d witnessed his first raid. No one had died – the last of the waterbenders had been taken a full three years’ before and no one had been born with the ability since but the Fire Nation liked to continue the raids to keep the Southern Water Tribe cowled and ensure they would catch wind of any new bender – but the terror of the black ash and the trembling of his mother’s hand against his back as they hid in their tent and waited for the warriors to return was not something he would ever forget.
Life had only gotten more complicated from there. It wasn’t all bad, of course, but many terrible things had happened to Hakoda and the Southern Water Tribe, most at the hands of the Fire Nation. They’d sent both his father and his wife to the spirits and had done their best to send both his children, alongside countless other tribesmen. He knew they were capable of the worst kinds of atrocities; he had witnessed many firsthand. He knew many in the Fire Nation were uncaring, imperialistic monsters who believed in their greatness at the expense of the wellbeing and autonomy of the rest of the world.
He knew all that, knew better than to expect good deeds from the Fire Nation and even less form the Fire Lord himself. And yet, after witnessing the prince and the princess face each other, he couldn’t help but feel that some of the worst atrocities the Fire Lord had committed had been against his own.
Hakoda had known very little about the Fire Prince. He had heard from Bato that the prince, although hardly more than a boy, was a terrifying force onto himself. The pinnacle of Fire Nation ferocity. He had heard from his children and their friends that the prince was a powerful enemy, volatile and strong. Quick to temper and ceaseless in pursuit. From Katara he had even heard – quite bitterly - that the boy was a clever fake, capable of tricking and more cunning than he looked.
They had come up with plans, ways to subdue the prince during the invasion because the children had been so sure that, of all the royal family, the prince was most likely to be at the forefront, too impatient and too hot-headed to hide during the invasion. He was also, as far as any of them knew, the only royal capable of fighting without his bending. But the prince hadn’t shown at all and then Hakoda had been captured and by the next time he’d heard about the prince again, it had been a wildly different situation. Suddenly, the boy was an ally and Sokka was telling him about the prince’s bravery and tenaciousness and how earnest he was about helping get Hakoda out of jail and Hakoda was suddenly forced to contemplate a very different prince and exactly what his relationship with his son was.
Then Hakoda had actually met the prince and the first thing that had struck him was how much of a child he still was. Self-conscious in the way that most teenagers were, the boy hadn’t looked him in the eye once, but Hakoda hadn’t minded. It had given him a chance to get a good look at him. He was smaller than Hakoda had expected from his children’s stories, and far less arrogant than he would have anticipated for a Fire Nation royal. His face was young, slenderer than either of his own children, but still a little plump from the remaining traces of childhood. He hadn’t grown into his cheekbones quite yet and the proud, haughty look Hakoda associated with most Fire Nation citizens was absent.
The scar had nearly taken Hakoda’s breath away. The children’s descriptions had wildly failed to encompass the enormity of it and not even the way Bato had sympathetically traced his own burns as he’d described it had done it justice. Hakoda hadn’t expected it to encompass nearly half of the boy’s face, from his forehead down to the middle of his cheek, nor had he expected it to completely cover his eye. Hakoda was surprised the boy had even kept the eye, let alone that he could see out of it.
The children hadn’t said anything about where the prince might have gotten the scar – it was just part of the other boy’s physical description, an easy identifier the same as the Avatar’s electric blue arrows. The stories Hakoda had heard in passing while docked in friendly and neutral ports had all revolved around the boy having been in a training accident. A cruel but telling example of what a lack of discipline can do with such a deadly element.
But Hakoda had known at first glance that scar was no accident. He had seen accidental burn scars before; the South Pole was a cold terrain and his people were nearly as familiar with fires as they were the water that surrounded them. But the tiny pieces of raised, lightened skin that dotted his and many others’ hands and arms from close encounters with cooking and hearth fires were nothing like the angry red of the prince’s skin. Accidental burns came from quick grazes with fire – hands snatched away from licking flames, embers swatted to death on exposed wrists.
The prince’s scar had come from no such encounter. It was much too dark - far closer to the scars Bato and some of his other men wore, the marks of a hard-fought battle – and far too stiff, as though the burn had gotten into the deepest layers of skin and healed smooth. Most troubling of all – the shape of the scar was far too particular to be an accident. Wide at his eye but tapering off into distinct points towards his hair line, as though someone had cupped his face with a wide hand and spread fingers.
Like someone had held fire to that boy’s face and kept it there until the skin had bubbled and cracked.
The tide of anger that had welled in Hakoda at that realization had nearly taken his breath away but he had kept his face cool and his emotions in check as he had quickly moved his gaze off the boy. The scar was old and the prince was a stranger. He wouldn’t have appreciated any sympathy that Hakoda could have offered and besides, they had far more important things to worry about. Hakoda had set aside the scar in favor of dealing with the riot they needed to stage.
He had kept a close eye on Sokka as the fight broke out – how could he not? Sokka had proven himself to be an excellent strategist and a capable warrior but he was still young, caught between adolescence and true manhood, and Hakoda was still his father. Keeping an eye on his child was as natural as breathing. It had surprised him, at first, that Sokka had stayed so close to the other boy during the riot. The prince was just as capable as all the stories had suggested and Hakoda rather thought Sokka would have stuck close to the beta girl, Suki, instead.
Not that the Kyoshi Warrior was any less capable; she had certainly handled all the guards who came at her with graceful strength and captured the warden before any of them had even gotten close. But Hakoda had been under the impression that Sokka had a certain soft spot for Suki and he knew, from the children’s stories, that they had been all been close with the Kyoshi Warriors well before the prince had switched sides. But Sokka had hardly glanced at the girl before she had captured the warden and Hakoda hadn’t missed the tight hold his son had kept on the other boy’s arm as they raced between rioters and guards.
It was an interesting development, to say the least. Hakoda might have come to certain conclusions about that instead, had the anger on the prince’s face at the touch not been clear and had the awe and affection in Sokka’s voice as they all marveled at Suki’s takedown of the warden not been so apparent. Hakoda had missed out a lot about teaching his son but he was pretty sure that, between himself and his mother, they had not trying to court or date two people at once down. And he was especially sure they had covered not courting or dating people who had no interest in it as well.
But if Sokka’s obvious need to protect the prince didn’t come from affection, Hakoda had been at a loss about where it had come from. It wasn’t like the boy was a noncombatant and he didn’t seem injured in anyway. It was a puzzle he hadn’t had time to solve as they had raced up the stairs past the guards and onto the upper level where the gondola lay waiting for them.
Racing to and reaching the gondola without any intervention had been a blur and Hakoda had – rather foolishly – let himself think they could pull the plan off without further intervention. He had seized the door with thankful praise to the spirits already on the tip of his tongue and the sudden burst of flame – bright blue and honestly terrifying – had been a brutal reminder that very few things in life were that easy.
Hakoda had turned with the others and he had to admit, even then that, although the prince had appeared far differently from how he was portrayed, the princess lived up to her stories quite well. She was young, surprisingly small, but her face was a mask of pure Fire Nation arrogance and her words were sharper than blades. Hakoda hadn’t been surprised that she had targeted her brother with them; for all the faults of the Fire Nation, not even he could deny that their nearly fanatic loyalty and emphasis on honor were unparalleled. Out of all of them, only the prince was a traitor and it made an awful sort of sense that she would direct her anger towards him.
What hadn’t made sense were the words she used. Hakoda hadn’t expected the word ‘whore’ to come from such a young mouth, no matter how fierce the enemy. It was an ugly word, one that few on the ships ever used even when the angry sea soaked them all, and Hakoda had to squash the instinctive urge to scold the girl for it. Had Sokka or Katara ever used that word against each other, Hakoda would have had them scrubbing the deck of his boat until sundown, but neither the prince nor the princess were his children and a fight at the top of a high-security Fire Nation prison had not been the time to give in to his fatherly inclinations.
The prince had seemed unfazed by his sister’s words, once again at odds with the portrait of a hot-headed young man that his children had painted. But the princess didn’t let it go – she called Sokka a “pretty alpha” and referred to special tutors that there was no reason for a beta boy to have. None of it made any sense at all and Hakoda had been confused just as much as he had been anxious for the attack to begin.
But then the princess dropped “omega” and suddenly everything had clicked into place. Sokka’s protectiveness, the prince’s subdued attitude, the princess’s cruel, mocking words.
None of the stories had said that Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation was an omega and Hakoda couldn’t smell any trace of Zuko’s scent but that didn’t matter. The Fire Nation had perfected the art of scent masking and Zuko had probably been trained in it the moment he presented. The Firelord had undoubtedly encouraged it, maybe even forced it on the young boy. It would have been just like that proud, power-hungry bastard to feel shame over an omega firstborn and try to keep it hidden.
A million thoughts and emotions had converged upon Hakoda in that moment – anger, confusion, pity, sorrow, concern – but few were useful. He could tell from the prince’s reaction to Sokka that he would not appreciate Hakoda’s concern, especially since he was nothing more than an unknown adult alpha, and neither pity nor sorrow had any place on the battlefield.
The fact that Zuko had made the first move hadn’t surprised Hakoda but he still had to fight the urge to shout in alarm when a wall of fire erupted in front of them. He had wanted to join in; there was no way he could leave a child at his back to defend him but Sokka had started moving and the fierceness in his son’s voice when he rebuked him had surprised him into listening.
He had regretted his choice once he was safe in the gondola, guarding the warden and their ticket out of the prison alongside Suki and Chit Sang. He’d had a full view of the vicious dance the Fire Nation siblings had begun and he’d been shocked by the brutality. He had known there was no love lost between the two, but there was something about seeing two siblings so close in age to his own children fighting each other so fiercely that had his heart clenching and a growl rumbling in his throat. Every move was a concentrated effort to seriously injure the other as they twirled around in their fiery dance.
He had no idea how long he’d been transfixed by the vicious struggle before Sokka cried out. His heart really did stop as he caught sight of a young girl with a knife barreling at his son and he would have leapt down from the gondola, the warden bedamned, had Suki not grabbed hold of him and forcefully kept him in place. For such a slight teen, the warrior had a strong enough grip that he wouldn’t have been able to escape without hurting her.
It had been a good thing Suki had kept him in place. Hakoda hadn’t expected the girl – obviously one of the princess’s two companions – to defect but there was no doubt her move had turned the tide of the battle. The entire courtyard had frozen as the guard she attacked had dropped. Hakoda couldn’t have even pretended to be able to follow what had happened between the princess and the girl before the princess attacked.
Pandemonium had really broken out once the other girl, the one Hakoda now traveled with but was just a stranger then, literally disarmed the princess and Suki hadn’t held Hakoda back as they both dove back out into the fray. What had happened during the battle came to Hakoda in bits and pieces. Adrenaline made it hard to make sense of the jumbled mess but he did remember going for Zuko. He remembered barreling into a guard that would have attacked the boy and he remembered the fierce look he got for it.
He also remembered the deep, full-body chill that had wracked his body when the boy had released a massive stream of fire from his mouth to push away the rest of the guards. Hakoda had never taken the battlefield against the Dragon of the West – the man had been retired from the field when Hakoda had first taken the Water Tribe warriors out to battle and even though he had heard the man had come out from his self-imposed retirement to travel with his nephew, his men had never come close to meeting the tiny warship nor the beast on it. But there wasn’t a warrior alive who didn’t know the stories. The last man alive to conquer a dragon, a man who could conquer a town with only one breath, a man who breathed a fire that fed on the fields of Ba Sing Se for a week after his only son fell, Hakoda knew those stories. He had never expected to meet the beast who had birthed those stories, let alone see his actions in miniature come from the chest of a child.
But he had and the shock must have shown on his face even as he beat a fast retreat with Zuko. Hakoda hadn’t had time to reflect on it as he flung himself into the air and blindly caught the hand of the big Fire Nation prisoner they had with them. Nor had there been time when the Fire Nation girl broke down. Hakoda had watched Zuko handle her with silence. He didn’t know exactly what the other girl had meant to them but the anguish on their faces – Zuko had tried his best to hide it but there was a darkness in his eyes that Hakoda knew far too well, a darkness no child should ever have to feel – made it clear that it was a private pain.
They had fallen into silence after that and Hakoda had quietly observed as they had made their way to the massive war balloon they were now on. Zuko and his friend had taken no time to separate from the group, claiming the corner with the furnace without a glance towards the rest of them. Hakoda had watched Zuko start the fire in the furnace; the boy must have been exhausted, physically and emotionally drained, but nothing had shown on his face as he had gotten them into the air.
In the quiet of the war balloon, Hakoda had finally had time to really think about what he had seen. The former Crown Prince of the Fire Nation was an omega and that forced many of the puzzle pieces into place.
Omegas in the Southern Water Tribe were not warriors; the fierceness of their hearts was devoted to the village and the spirits, not to the bloody hunts and vicious fights of the tundra. That wasn’t to say none had fought before. Every child of his generation knew the story of Kanuya, the mother who had killed the first Fire Nation soldier that had gotten past the warriors and set foot in their village. Hakoda’s own mother had risked crossing the entire ocean in the midst of a war to escape her oppression. Omegas were not thought weak and delicate, the way the Earth Kingdom often tried to cast them, but they were not typically warriors. It simply wasn’t what was done in the Southern Water Tribe.
Hakoda knew it was different in the Fire Nation. He couldn’t say for sure how many times he’d gone against an omega soldier - the Fire Nation taught them to hide their scents far too thoroughly to know - but he knew they existed and that the times he had was not small. He couldn’t deny the unease he had first felt at the idea, the inherent wrongness he felt that the Fire Nation was so cruel that they even sent out their omegas to fight. But he had faced soldier after soldier and it hadn’t taken long to realize that alpha, beta or omega, each opponent fought with the same single-minded passion as any other Fire Nation citizen. At the end of the day, it hadn’t mattered if the person attacking was alpha, beta, or omega – every opponent was trained and battle-honed and wasting time worrying over what orientation the person trying to set him aflame was a very good way to end up dead.
Even had he not learned this, he wouldn’t have been able to look at Prince Zuko and think him anything but a skilled warrior. The boy fought and defended with the passion Hakoda had faced off against time and time again and the strength and control he had to unleash such violent flames without striking anyone accidentally was nothing short of amazing. Hakoda would have been a fool to treat Zuko as anything but a warrior, the same way he treated his own children when they had come to him with scars and battle-hardened bodies. The issue that lay with Hakoda, the issue that kept him glancing back at Zuko as the boy kept vigilance over the furnace and whispered to the braided haired girl, was that the prince looked far too young to be able to fight like that.
Hakoda was no stranger to child warriors – he had two of them himself. But it had never been his intention for Sokka or Katara to fight – he and all his men had joined the war specifically so that it would never reach their shores and their children again. He had never intended for Sokka to see anything bloodier than a hunt; he had wanted Katara to learn to hone her waterbending the way his mother and the other elders talked about it, to create miraculous buildings, heal the sick and injured, battle against cracks in the ice and calm the tumultuous waters under fishing boats.
He was proud at what they had chosen to do with their lives, incredibly and immensely proud that they had defended their home and then chosen to accompany the Avatar. But he was sad that they had to, sad that all the adults had failed in keeping them safe and protected the way all children should be, sad that Kya had given her life to shield Katara and Hakoda hadn’t even been able to keep the war from reaching her again.
And he was horrified that, while he had failed to keep his children from the war, the Fire Lord had thrown his into it. There was no reason for Zuko, hardly older than Sokka, to fight like a seasoned soldier. No reason for his younger sister to fight with even more deadly skill. The whole point of being a parent was to protect and raise children, to shield them from the worst life could offer and teach them how to thrive. Instead, the Fire Lord had thrown his children into a war in the hopes of making monsters.
It was enough to make him sick and he knew, the way he always tried to know when it came to his children, that Sokka was also struggling. Hakoda had glanced at Zuko occasionally as they had started their journey to the Air Temple but Sokka had hardly looked away from him. His son had never been good at containing his emotions, had never really tried to learn to contain them really, and Hakoda could read the worry and fear etched on every inch of his face.
Sokka had always been a worrier – when he had been barely a toddler, he used to drag furs and blankets larger than him over to Katara’s basket, convinced she was too cold no matter how securely she had been swaddled. His concern had never decreased as he got older – Hakoda had to come up with elaborate ways to distract him every few months when Kya left to keep him from staking out the omega huts and Kya, in turn, had to find her own ways to distract the boy lest he try and follow Hakoda and the other men out into the tundra to join the hunt. He’d waddled after Katara as she learned to walk, loudly admonishing her and directing her where to walk and crying loudly whenever she tripped and fell into a small snowbank, even if she herself was fine.
It had gotten worse after Kya had passed – both the children had taken to sleeping beside him and more often than not, in the days after they had set her to sea, he would wake to find an empty bed next to him and a small boy keeping watch outside their tent, a clumsily held blade in his hand. Hakoda had, perhaps, encouraged the worrying and concern a bit too much with all his lectures about it being an alpha’s responsibility to watch over others. Hakoda had wanted to emphasize the importance of Sokka’s role, as both the firstborn of the chief and the eldest alpha of his generation, but Sokka had only presented a month before Kya’s death.
It was obvious now that Sokka had internalized the lessons a little too much. Hakoda had known he’d watched over Katara and the Avatar and the rest of their little group closely; he’d been proud to see it, proud to know his son had taken his worrying nature and created some good out of it and he’d excused the ways Katara had commented on Sokka being overprotective as just sibling banter. But after watching Sokka with the former Fire prince, Hakoda couldn’t help but think there was a lot more to it than that and he knew that the ways he had tried to teach Sokka had something to do with the friction between his son and the prince.
Perhaps he could kill two birds with one stone – Hakoda wanted to know more about the enigmatic prince and he also wanted to steer his son into safer waters where he was less likely to end up burned.
He hadn’t meant to plan it with Suki, hadn’t really known what the girl was thinking but he couldn’t help but feel a bit grateful as the girl left their small, silent group and headed over to the two Fire Nation kids, leaving Hakoda free access to Sokka. He didn’t like how high Sokka jumped when he put a hand on his shoulder, nor how tense he still was after he realized it was just Hakoda. He liked the worried, anxious look on his son’s face as he turned to face him even less. He looked like he was about to get in trouble but Hakoda couldn’t think of anything he’d done to make Sokka think he was angry.
He felt even worse at the resigned way Sokka followed him into a far corner, away from prying ears, his entire body tense. “I know what you’re going to say,” his son said, his voice low.
“You do?” Hakoda highly doubted his son had any idea where the conversation was supposed to go. He wouldn’t be so stressed about it if he did; at least Hakoda didn’t think he would.
Sokka nodded and Hakoda noticed how his eyes didn’t quite reach his own, as though Sokka was afraid of seeing something written on his face. “I disappointed you. I know I’m supposed to keep people safe but I –“
“Woah,” Hakoda put a hand out and Sokka immediately obeyed, his words dying on his lips. “Sokka, why would you think I’m disappointed? You successfully infiltrated a top-security Fire Nation prison and managed to break four prisoners out without any serious injury! That’s incredible, son.” Hakoda kept his tone reassuring and didn’t bother trying to stop the small but fiercely proud smile those words elicited from flashing across his face.
Sokka didn’t look any calmer for it though; instead Hakoda’s reassurances seemed to unleash a stream of anxiety-filled words. “But it didn’t go smoothly and Azula nearly killed us and she’s probably going to kill that Mai girl and Zuko did a lot of the fighting – and I know how you feel about omegas and I know I was supposed to protect him and I didn’t although really he doesn’t need protecting and I messed that up too by being too protective and–“
“Sokka, Sokka!” It took multiple attempts to break through his son’s rant and Hakoda felt a twinge a guilt at the way Sokka cringed from the force in his low voice. “Most plans go awry; you know that better than anyone. That doesn’t mean you did anything wrong, it just means that people are messy and you can’t account for everything.” Hakoda went for a lighter tone as he spoke, hoping it would actually soothe his son’s nerves. “And I don’t think there’s any accounting for the princess.” He added, a bit of dry amusement in his tone.
That did the trick. A small, almost reluctant and fleeting smile tugged at his lips. Hakoda breathed a silent sigh of relief – he had never been that great at dealing with the negative emotions of his children, always wanting them to immediately feel better and not having a clue on how to accomplish it. Especially when the emotion was not something that could be healed quickly, like a scrapped knee solved with a solemn kiss on the reddened skin. He let that relief propel him into continuing. He didn’t know what to say about Mai, didn’t know if he really thought the Fire Nation would execute an underage girl or if she would be condemned to a prison cell and he didn’t want to put any ideas in Sokka’s head – either hope or discouragement about her fate – that he would bring back to the other children.
But Zuko was whom he’d actually wanted to talk about and Sokka had given him an easy opening for what was sure to be an awkward conversation. Hakoda needed to tread carefully though – Sokka and Zuko obviously had issues and if he said the wrong thing, he was liable to accidentally close Sokka off again. He settled on addressing the part that involved him. “What did you mean, how I feel about omegas?” It wasn’t a smooth segue but Hakoda doubted there was a way to smoothly approach the topic. Maybe his mother would have known, the spirits knew she had handled Hakoda’s weird teenage years with a lot more grace than he was handling his children’s. Then again, Hakoda hadn’t been declared an enemy of the Fire Nation until he was in his thirties so perhaps he deserved some leeway.
Sokka tensed again, all traces of amusement gone from his face. Hakoda decided not to push it. This was obviously the part of the conversation Sokka had been most worried about and Hakoda would give him all the time he needed to put his thoughts together.
“Well, you know.” Sokka fidgeted a little, reluctant to explain himself anymore. Hakoda waited again. “How omegas are. Back home, I mean. They’re supposed to be protected and – stuff. And I tried to do that with Zuko but he’s not like Gran Gran or Mom or anybody else back home and I really upset him treating him like that, but I also know that’s how I’m supposed to treat him and he almost got hurt when I was supposed to be leading all of us out and I didn’t do anything when Azula was saying all that gross stuff about him and I know you’re upset about that and I get it because I failed him. But Dad –“
Sokka’s voice took on an almost pleading quality, as though he was worried Hakoda wouldn’t believe him and he was desperate to get his point across. Hakoda wanted to interrupt him, to reassure him that Sokka hadn’t failed at anything and that he wasn’t mad he’d let Zuko handle what he was obviously capable of handling but if he stopped Sokka from letting it all out who knew when he would get the chance again. So he let him continue even as his voice got more and more fast and nervous. “Zuko doesn’t need or want protection and it took me way too long to realize that and I really upset him and I have to make it up to him because he’s my friend even though he probably hates me now and also Toph might actually kill me if I bring him back hurt and Toph is terrifying and that’s only if Zuko doesn’t hit me first. And I want him to like you too, because you’re a good dad and he definitely didn’t have one of those, you saw his sister, but he’s not going to like you if you treat him like he’s weaker because he’s an omega and so you can be mad at me but please, please don’t be mad at him or treat him any different than the rest of us –“
Sokka’s voice was rising slightly with his fear and Hakoda knew there would be no benefit to letting his son work himself into an actual panic. He had heard enough to get the gist of it anyway. He clasped his hand on Sokka’s shoulder again and gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. Sokka instantly fell silent. “Sokka.” He kept his voice low, glancing quickly at the others in the balloon. Suki seemed deep in conversation with Zuko while Ty Lee watched. He couldn’t tell if it was going well – Zuko looked as stiff as ever and he couldn’t see enough of either of the girls’ faces to get a read on them – but at least none of them had noticed Sokka’s raising voice. Chit Sang, too, still seemed wholly invested in inspecting the balloon for anything of value and wasn’t paying the slightest attention to the conversations around him.
Still, it was best to speak low enough that only his son could hear him. “Sokka, I’m sorry.”
Had he not been trying to have a serious conversation, he might have laughed at how quickly the anxious worry on Sokka’s face switched to sheer confusion. “Sorry – what are you sorry about, Dad. I’m the one that messed up. I’m the one who made Zuko feel bad and I didn’t do what I was supposed to do and –“
“You only acted that way because that’s how I raised you to act. Therefore, anything you feel like you did wrong was, at least in part, because of me.” Hakoda’s cool logic washed over his son and he fell silent again, staring at his dad with wide eyes. Hakoda gave his shoulder another squeeze. “I don’t think this is the right place to discuss all of this,” it wasn’t nearly private enough for all the things Hakoda wanted to say. And he had a feeling Katara was going to need to hear part of it anyway. Sokka might have been the worrier, but Katara was the caretaker. Who knew how she had reacted to the prince’s orientation, if she even yet knew. “But I can tell you this now. The prince is not the first Fire Nation omega I’ve seen fight and the only problem I have with it comes from his age, same as you and all the other kids. I’m not about to treat him any differently because of it.”
Hakoda felt Sokka stiffen slightly and the look on his face was a mixture of shock, surprise and disbelief that nearly made Hakoda snort. Like it was only children that could have their world views changed. But he knew that whatever change Sokka was going through – whatever misconceptions and opinions Zuko was currently making him face – was a sensitive one. And he wasn’t quite ready to laugh about it yet. “I’m not mad that you failed to keep Zuko safe, Sokka. From where I stand, you got us all out of that prison by having us use our best abilities and there is nothing wrong with that. No one else could have faced Azula without getting seriously injured and you knew that. You trusted him to handle it himself and he did so. It’s important for a leader to know when to step back and let others deal with things and you’ve already begun learning that.” Hakoda paused, letting his words sink into his son. He knew the moment Sokka decided to believe them when he felt his son relax under his touch and breathed another silent sigh of relief.
He really wasn’t good at this sort of conversation but he was glad what he said had gotten through. Sokka certainly took to his words far better than Hakoda had taken his own mother’s at the same age.
There was only one more thing to address and Hakoda risked another glance up before broaching it. Whatever Suki had spoken to the prince about seemed to have worked magic. Zuko wasn’t quite smiling – Hakoda wasn’t sure the poor boy knew quite how to after witnessing his family firsthand – but there was definitely a weight off his shoulders and a lightness to his face that made him look even younger. That was a good sign and Hakoda used it as a boon to finish his conversation with his son. “As for Zuko hating you, well. I think if you told him half of what you told me, you two will be just fine.”
Sokka jerked with surprise and Hakoda could see how much effort it took for him not to crane his neck around to look back at the other boy. “You think so?” His tone was hopeful and Hakoda didn’t bother biting back the amused smile that brought to his lips.
“Certainly. Your mother forgave me when I was your age and also stupid.” He admitted easily. Sokka’s jaw nearly fell to his chest in his surprise and Hakoda did laugh then, loudly enough that he knew they’d caught the attention of everyone else in the war balloon.
He hadn’t made up his mind yet, whether Sokka felt that way about the prince or not – and that was surely a conversation for another day when they hadn’t nearly died a thousand times and weren’t within earshot of the person in question – but it felt right to make the joke. It was certainly worth the confused spluttering that came from his son anyway.
“Wh-wha-?” Sokka seemed incapable of getting a word out and Hakoda merely chuckled again while squeezing his son’s shoulder again.
“A story for another day,” he assured his son. And what a story it was. He could still feel the sting of Kya’s hand against his cheek from where she’d slapped him, still hear the howling laughter from Bato as he’d watched, all too eager to watch Hakoda fall into the hole he’d dug and entirely unwilling to help him back out.
Sokka was certainly not the only one in their family who’d been an idiot around an omega before.