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“So. Um. Have you worked in the palace before?”
The Kyoshi Warrior nods.
“Oh.” Zuko nods back. “That’s cool.”
Extended silence.
“Uh. Well. Uncle should be arriving soon, so… we won’t have to wait out here much longer, at least.”
The Kyoshi Warrior nods again.
Zuko shuffles his feet.
Uncle Iroh’s hot air balloon cannot come fast enough. Agni, why is Zuko so awkward?
He had thought small talk would be a good way to pass the time as they stood in the palace courtyard, waiting for Uncle Iroh’s arrival. This Kyoshi Warrior had been assigned to be his new personal guard almost a week ago, and as such, they’re required to be within five feet of him at all times unless he’s safely within his rooms; the only problem is, they haven’t said a word to Zuko the entire time Zuko has known them, and Zuko has a sinking feeling he knows why. So here he is, trying to hold a conversation for more than thirty seconds with someone who’s not his uncle, just trying to make sure his new guard isn’t scared of him like so many other servants and staff had been, and failing miserably.
(It’s even worse because he could swear he’s seen this Kyoshi Warrior before somewhere. Something about them is so familiar. He prays to the spirits that they don’t remember him as the guy who burned down their village – he still cringes every time he remembers that conversation with Suki.)
“How, um. How long have you been a Kyoshi Warrior?” The silence stretches again as the Warrior hesitates. Agni, maybe Zuko just needs to shut up.
The guard clears their throat.“Ju – just about a year.” Silence again. And then: “but don’t worry, you’re in good hands!” the warrior hastens to reassure. “I wield these fans like a pro!”
Their voice is unconventionally high-pitched, almost as if it’s a falsetto, and it cracks terribly in the middle of their introduction. It kind of reminds Zuko of Sokka, for some inexplicable reason. The way they brag about their skill reminds Zuko of Sokka too, especially when he’s trying to defend himself from the rest of Team Avatar’s judgment. Huh. Strange.
Spirits, he misses Sokka.
He’s about to ask if the Kyoshi Warrior has, by chance, ever met Sokka, when a commotion arises on the other side of the courtyard, one that can only be –
“Nephew!” Uncle Iroh’s voice bursts through the space. Zuko whips his head around to see Uncle Iroh already running towards him, hands outstretched, eyes glimmering, hot air balloon deflating in the distance.
“Uncle!” Conversation forgotten, Zuko doesn’t hesitate to sprint to meet him halfway, and relishes the firm feeling of his Uncle’s arms around him. It’s one of Iroh’s monthly visits to Caldera, to “check up on his ginseng tea leaf shipments” as he claims, though they both know it’s so he can check up on Zuko. Before, Zuko might have assumed Iroh’s intentions were fueled by pity, but he likes to think he’s grown a little more mature (and a little less angsty) since then, and now he can only be relieved to be seeing his uncle again. “Zuko, my boy,” Uncle Iroh says, voice warm. “How have you been?”
“Good, Uncle,” Zuko can feel his smile stretch his cheeks – Agni, how long has it been since he’s grinned like that? “I’m glad you’re back.”
After a long moment, Iroh pulls back from the hug, wipes his eyes discreetly, and tucks his arms back into his sleeves. He gazes at Zuko for a minute, a soft smile on his face, before shifting his focus to the presence at Zuko’s side. “And who is this new Kyoshi Warrior I spy?” He looks teasingly at Zuko’s new guard.
“Oh, I, uh, I’ve been assigned to be Zu – Fire Lord Zuko’s personal guard, ah, sir,” the Kyoshi Warrior stumbles.
Iroh slowly raises an eyebrow.
The Kyoshi Warrior fidgets.
Is that… a pleading look on their face? Zuko looks back and forth between Uncle Iroh and his guard, thoroughly confused.
“Ah. I see,” Uncle Iroh says at length. Zuko has no idea what silent conversation they just had. “Well! I’m certainly glad to have someone so trusted and reputable protecting my nephew.” He winks at the Kyoshi Warrior, as if that’s just a normal interaction to have with the Fire Lord’s newest personal guard, right in front of the Fire Lord himself. “Now, Fire Lord Zuko, if you would be so kind as to give a tired old man a cup of his favorite tea after his long journey?”
You know what, it’s probably just Uncle being Uncle again. If it’s important, Zuko’s sure to be told sooner or later through some confusing proverb or metaphor anyway. He resolves to ignore the strangeness of it all in favor of spending as much time with Iroh as he can before he has to leave.
“Of course, Uncle. Right this way.”
Well. Maybe it was important, because the very next day Zuko receives a letter with his morning tea asking him to make his way to Uncle Iroh’s rooms for breakfast. He heads over right after training, not wanting to keep his uncle waiting – and, if he’s being honest, more than a little curious on what his uncle might have to say. As he leaves his chambers, he hears the Kyoshi Warrior in question fall into step behind him. He hopes he’s correct in assuming Uncle’s purpose for the summons is an explanation for his odd behavior yesterday with his guard; Zuko’s still a little baffled at the exchange.
(Although, if it is about the Kyoshi Warrior, Zuko doesn’t quite understand what Uncle Iroh could want to tell him, since Zuko knows from experience how awfully convenient it is to eavesdrop when standing guard just outside Uncle Iroh’s chamber doors, and he’s sure Uncle knows it too. Regardless, Zuko’s sure Uncle Iroh has something in mind.)
“Zuko! Come, sit and play a game of pai sho with me,” Uncle greets as soon as Zuko enters his rooms. Zuko groans internally; he should’ve known. When has Uncle ever been fully clear with what he wants to say? Begrudgingly, he takes a seat across from the board and settles in for another pointless match he’s bound to lose.
It’s only a few moves in before Iroh begins to speak. “So, nephew,” he starts, carefully moving his white jade tile diagonally in a move that seems aimless to Zuko. “It had occurred to me as I was taking a walk around the palace yesterday, reminiscing on old memories and reuniting with old friends: I’ve barely seen any of your old friends in the hallways or around the castle.” Iroh looks to Zuko, waiting for him to play his turn in the game. Zuko obligingly moves a random tile to an adjacent space on the board. Iroh chuckles, before returning to the game. “Have they all left, except for that sweet lady who leads your guards… Suki?”
Zuko eyes his uncle warily. His tone seems too… innocent, for such a seemingly heavy question. What is he getting at? Yes, they’ve mostly left, and sure, he misses his friends – a lot, now that he thinks about it; it would be nice to train with Aang again, or watch Katara put some of his stuffier advisors in their place, or hear one of Sokka’s infamously bad jokes, or see Sokka in fire nation clothing and trying out fire nation customs, or even just hear the sound of Sokka’s voice at all, or spar with Sokka during his morning sessions, or laugh with him at his spice intolerance as he tries Zuko’s favorite dishes, or – anyways. He misses his friends. But they’ve got families to reunite with and duties to fulfill, and Zuko’s not so selfish as to keep them from that. He tells his uncle as much: “Yeah, Aang’s still with Katara and Sokka down at the South Pole, and I don’t think I’ve heard anything from Toph since she started her new metalbending school. I miss them –” and here Zuko has to stop for a second to make sure the true strength of the emotions stay concealed and he doesn’t concern his uncle – “but they’ve got their own responsibilities to take care of, and I guess I couldn’t expect them to stay forever, anyways.”
There’s a layered pause. Uncle Iroh hums. Zuko gets the distinct feeling he’s revealed much, much more than he was supposed to. “I see.” He looks back up to Zuko. Is it just him, or is Uncle Iroh speaking a little louder now?
“You know, Zuko, the butterfly-snake is a very interesting species. You may spot many a butterfly-snake with bright coloring and bold patterns – but do not be fooled; these distinct features, no matter how pretty, often mean this butterfly-snake is poisonous.”
Zuko was right – Uncle Iroh is trying to throw nonsense metaphors at him in an attempt to get him to understand whatever’s going on. Unfortunately for him, the metaphors are simply bouncing off Zuko like particularly inconsequential pebbles, and Zuko is thoroughly confused by the non-sequitur.
Nevertheless, Uncle Iroh continues. “It may seem smart, at first glance, for these butterfly-snakes to all share the same features. If a predator encounters just one, it knows to stay away from them all. But Zuko – ” and for some reason, Zuko gets the feeling Iroh’s not addressing him anymore – “it is important that the butterfly snake not forget that it is powerful in its own right, and not just as a member of a whole. And sometimes, it can be much more effective to show one’s true colors, than to try to conceal them in an effort to make oneself more palatable to whomever they desire.”
With that, Uncle Iroh turns back to the game board, and moves his white dragon tile two spaces forwards.
“Ah, it looks like I’ve won!” He hoists himself up to his feet, grinning at Zuko’s startled expression. “Well, nephew, I’m sure there are more pressing Fire Lord duties clamoring for your attention than attending to the whims of an old man like me. But don’t hesitate to come to me if there is any other advice you may need – or if you’re just feeling lonely!”
Zuko can only gape after him, still sitting at the pai sho board, utterly bewildered.
What in the name of Agni just happened?
Consumed with his own confusion following his conversation with Iroh, Zuko had hardly pays attention to his guard when he finally leaves his uncle’s rooms. By the time he gets to his own chambers, he’s resigned himself to having no idea what Uncle Iroh meant to convey with his metaphor. It is what it is, and if Zuko spends any more time thinking about it, he might actually go crazy.
Although, ever since his meeting, he can’t help but feel as though his Kyoshi Warrior has been acting… well, for lack of a better word, shiftier than usual.
It’s not that Zuko isn’t confident in the warrior’s allegiances – after all, they were handpicked by Suki and apparently a “very close friend” of hers, if the twinkle in her eyes when she said it was to be trusted – and Zuko knows he’d be dead ten times over if it weren’t for Suki’s nearly super-human instincts. Rather, he’s convinced he must have said something to offend the Kyoshi Warrior, either in their conversation prior to Iroh’s arrival or sometime immediately after, and as a result, they feel even more uncomfortable around him than they did before. He can only hope whatever he did wasn’t so bad that it might have completely reverted any progress Zuko’s made to differentiate himself from Ozai, but it’s been three days, and the Kyoshi Warrior hasn’t even so much as made eye contact with him, much less said anything. Zuko doesn’t know what to think, and he doesn’t know what else to do but apologize.
He gets his chance as they’re returning to his rooms after Zuko’s architectural advisor had canceled a meeting with him at the very last minute. He’s already frustrated with the late notice, and somehow that frustration feeds into the self-annoyance he’d been harboring since he first noticed his personal guard acting strange. All he can think of now is well, you messed it up, Zuko, so fix it . Just as they’ve reached his rooms and his guard is about to take their usual position just outside his door, Zuko says, “wait – come inside. I have something I wanted to talk to you about.”
The Kyoshi Warrior seems surprised – and a little nervous. Zuko kicks himself for not doing this sooner. He pushes open his chamber doors, revealing the reds and golds of the royal suite’s common room, illuminated by the large gilded windows Zuko had asked to be constructed to allow for more natural light and less gloom. “Take a seat,” he says, motioning to the simple wooden table and green cushions that occupy the center – a gift from his uncle upon seeing the ostentatious coloring of the rest of the room – and when the warrior sits, Zuko does too on the pillow across from him.
Alright. Here goes.
“So, um, listen. I don’t know what I did, but for the last couple of days, I get the feeling you haven’t been feeling comfortable around me anymore.” The Kyoshi Warrior looks guilty; Zuko assumes the worst and continues quickly. “And I understand – I know my father, and my father’s father, definitely didn’t tolerate criticism or other people’s feelings very well, and everyone had to be on edge all the time just to survive. I know that, and I know one apology probably won’t make a difference after a hundred years of rule that has sent the exact opposite message.”
Once again, Zuko gets the pervasive feeling he’s saying too much, but finds himself unable to stop the words once they start coming out. Especially as the Kyoshi Warrior’s expression gets more and more uncomfortable – Zuko grasps frantically for the right things to say to make the furrow between their brows even out.
“But I can’t – I won’t sit around and do nothing. I made a promise to myself to never be anything like my father, and it’s one that I don’t intend to break. It means a lot to me, and I know it means a lot to the people I lead too, and as of right now that includes you. So I don’t know what I did, but I do know that whatever it is, I’m deeply sorry. I hope you can forgive me. And if you can’t, I understand that too.” Zuko bows his head, and waits.
Several seconds tick by in silence. Zuko’s mouth tightens. Oh spirits, he thinks he’s made it worse. He chances a look up to see the Kyoshi Warrior swiping at their face with their sleeve. His stomach plummets.
He’s about to say something – another apology, he thinks – when the Kyoshi Warrior lifts their face from the fabric of their forearm, now smeared red and white with rubbed off makeup.
The steady plunge of Zuko’s stomach to his knees is abruptly halted by sheer surprise. Instead of a frantic “I’m sorry”, all that comes out is a startled: “Sokka?”
Sokka? What? No. How could Sokka be here? In front of him? Where his Kyoshi Warrior is supposed to be?
And then the Kyoshi Warrior – Sokka? – finally speaks. “Zuko, Tui and La, Zuko, I’m so sorry,” Sokka says. The falsetto is gone, leaving something that is undeniably Sokka’s voice coming from what he had thought was his personal guard’s mouth. Zuko is still not comprehending. “I – it’s nothing you did wrong, it’s all me – it’s all my fault, please don’t apologize.”
“ Sokka?” Zuko repeats, wildly disoriented. Is this a dream? Has his loneliness finally made him start hallucinating to cope? Discreetly, he tries pinching himself. Sokka is still saying something, but it’s all sounding like a buzz in Zuko’s good ear. The sharp shock of pain from his thigh tells him no, this is somehow real.
And then it starts to register. Not click, no, Zuko is still hopelessly bewildered, but register. Sokka is here, in front of him, which means all this time when he had thought he was with a random Kyoshi Warrior – when he was making small talk – when he was apologizing , just now, for a situation he’s coming to realize he probably entirely misread – it had all been to Sokka . And Sokka knew, and he didn’t do anything. Spirits, when he overheard his and Uncle Iroh’s conversation and Zuko’s confession about his loneliness – because he must have overheard to be acting so shifty around Zuko these past few days – he knew , and he didn’t do anything. Why didn’t he do anything? Why – “Why didn’t you tell me it was you?”
Zuko knows all the hurt and confusion he’s feeling is seeping into his tone. He finds a little bit of satisfaction at the shame in Sokka’s eyes anyway.
Sokka falters. “I – I wasn’t ready. I know that sounds like the lamest excuse ever – La, Zuko, I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to–to break your trust like this, I’m such an asshole, I know I messed things up – but at the South Pole, when I was away from you, I had a – a realization, kind of, about what I really felt, and then I knew I had to come up and see you again, so I took the fastest ship up here I could find, and then I saw you, walking outside in the courtyard, probably heading to another important meeting or something, and – I just couldn’t. I couldn’t interrupt you, couldn’t face you. Spirits, I’m such a coward, but I just couldn’t. And that’s where Suki found me, and she offered me this position, and I took it – I probably would have taken any opportunity to get closer to you – and, well, I was going to confess. But then you were the Fire Lord, and I was just your guard, and I couldn’t even talk to you until a week in, and then Uncle Iroh recognized me –”
There’s so much to process, Zuko doesn’t even know how to start. His emotions are a whirlwind inside of him: somehow comfort, because Sokka’s here , but anger, because Sokka’s been here the whole time , and under that hurt, because he had thought he and Sokka had gotten close during the rescue at Boiling Rock and everything after that too, but confusion, because what realization could have gotten in the way of that, and now overtop it all somehow resigned indignation, because – “Uncle Iroh knew?”
“Yeah. He kind of indirectly told me to tell you who I really was, and I really should have listened. I’m sorry, Zuko, for hiding from you for so long. And – I guess I get it, if you can’t accept my apology, or if you want me to leave. I know I messed up, big time, and I never wanted to hurt you, but clearly I did. Just say the word and I’ll go.”
This is all too much. Zuko doesn’t know what to think or feel. He – he needs to go see Uncle. His eyes dart to Sokka, who looks downright miserable now. He’s hit with another wave of disorientation even as his heart softens. “Just – hold on. I need to go talk with Uncle. I need to think about this. Hold on” He stumbles to his feet, mind still reeling.
Uncle. He has to see Uncle.
Yet only thoughts of Sokka, Sokka, Sokka fly through his head, as he leaves the other boy behind in a blur of green robes and half-painted makeup.
Zuko only barely stops himself from slamming open Uncle Iroh’s chamber doors, though that’s probably because they swing open before he gets the chance. Instead, he finds himself suddenly face-to-face with Uncle Iroh’s patented understanding expression, and a knowing, “ah, so he has finally revealed himself.”
Zuko doesn’t bother asking who, or being mad Iroh already knows. A lifetime of indulging in his anger means he finally knows letting it take the forefront here won’t do him any favors. Instead, he simply says, “I need your advice.”
Iroh hums, and opens his doors wider. “Come in, nephew. I will brew a pot of jasmine, and we can discuss.”
It’s only one the teapot is cupped comfortably within Uncle Iroh’s hands, water coming to a boil at a steady temperature, does Zuko broach the subject.
“I don’t know what to think,” he blurts unceremoniously. When his uncle doesn’t say anything, he continues. “I missed him. Of course I missed him. But – he tricked me. Every time I was with this person I thought was just another Kyoshi Warrior, it was him, and he never told me.”
Iroh considers. “Do you think you would have been less hurt if it were a different friend of yours?”
Zuko’s mind unwittingly returns to daydreams of going out to the night market with Sokka, sparring with Sokka, sightseeing the best parts of the fire nation with Sokka, spending his spare time with Sokka. His answer is clear. “Yes,” he says. “It wouldn’t have been so bad if it were someone else –” but with all the things I wanted to do with him, it’s so much worse, he thinks but doesn’t add.
Though maybe Iroh picks up on it anyway. “You know, it’s a lot of work pretending to be someone you’re not. I don’t think Sokka would have done it for just anything – or anybody. I think that boy must have missed you very, very much, enough to sail to the other end of this world and disguise himself for your acceptance. Of course, that does not mean you have to forgive him,” Uncle Iroh adds. “Look within yourself, nephew. Reflect on which outcome you would be most happy with. I think you too have been hiding from your affections, even if you only realize subconsciously. Do not let what you have been craving slip your grasp once again. A conversation to clear the air will only last a few minutes; a journey back to the south pole will last several weeks.”
For once, Zuko kind of gets what Uncle Iroh is saying. He needs to talk to Sokka, not tell him to leave. But – what he’s been craving? Does his uncle mean Sokka – all the things he wants to do with the other boy, all the time he wants to spend with him? And affections? Sure, Zuko misses Sokka the most out of everyone on Team Avatar, and he daydreams about him a lot, and he constantly wishes Sokka were here and sees him in everything he does, but he’d do that for any of his friends, right? Yet when Uncle Iroh asked if he would’ve been less hurt if it weren’t Sokka to trick him like this, Zuko hadn’t had to think for more than a second before he replied.
Maybe he was wrong; maybe he would be just as hurt if Katara or Suki or Aang had pretended to be his Kiyoshi Warrior without telling him. After all, he’s thought of things to do with his other friends plenty of times before when feeling especially bored or lonely.
…Except it’s not really the same, is it? Thinking about all those things he could've done with Sokka specifically if only he’d revealed his identity sooner, and replacing Sokka with Katara or Suki or Aang in those scenarios instead, just feels… wrong .
But that doesn’t mean he holds specific affection for Sokka, right?
Except maybe it does.
Oh. Oh.
Zuko likes Sokka.
He buries his head in his hands and groans.
Above him, he can hear Iroh chuckling. “I thought it might happen like this.” His uncle gives him another minute to process before there are hands on his shoulders, urging his head up. “Now, Zuko,” Iroh begins seriously. “Did you leave Sokka all by himself after his confession?”
Zuko nods.
“Then the boy is likely panicking and assuming you never want to talk to him again. If my intuition is right, he’s almost certainly already in the courtyard, getting a soldier to operate my discarded hot air balloon.” He looks Zuko straight in the eye. “Run, my nephew.”
For the second time today, Zuko rushes out of royal chambers with his mind reeling and robes flying behind him, and only one thought in his head: Sokka.
Just as Uncle had predicted, when Zuko runs into the courtyard, it’s like a reverse of Iroh’s arrival. The hot air balloon is inflating, guards are swarming around it getting it ready for Sokka to board rather than Uncle Iroh to exit, and amidst it all there Sokka stands in familiar South Pole blue, with his back to Zuko and talking to Suki. The sight electrifies Zuko, already buzzing with adrenaline; it finally, truly clicks that Sokka is here . He marches towards the pair, determined.
(Determined about what, he doesn’t know. He’s just following his urge to do something , and well, between the two of them Zuko’s always been the more impulsive.)
Suki spots him as he’s about a dozen steps away. Her eyes widen, before she makes a quick excuse and hurries away. Sokka takes a step towards her, like he’s about to follow, before he turns around to see the reason for her quick exit.
Almost immediately, his eyes alight on Zuko. His mouth opens, either in shock or to speak –
Zuko kisses him.
All in all, it’s a very messy first kiss. Zuko comes in with way too much force, enough to probably bruise, and their teeth clank uncomfortably between them; his hand comes up to fist in the back of Sokka’s blue shirt, pushing him closer, and he feels Sokka’s hands graze his cheek as if he wants to cup his face but is still unsure. But it doesn’t matter, because holy spirits, Sokka is kissing him back, and that feeling alone is enough to make it perfect. For the first time all day, Zuko feels his racing thoughts calm down, only one word left to float to the surface.
Zuko only releases Sokka when they inevitably have to come up for air. But as soon as he has enough oxygen, he looks Sokka dead in the eye and says, “Stay.”
It’s Sokka’s turn to be uncomprehending. “I – what?” His fingers reach up to tentatively touch his lips, expression glazed.
Zuko can feel himself starting to lose a little of his bluster as the reality of what he just did sinks in. He desperately pushes through. “I like you. Stay. Please.”
Shock fills Sokka’s face as he finally processes what Zuko says. “You – you like me? You like me back?” Surprise transforms to glee as Sokka meets Zuko’s eyes. “You like me back?”
Zuko swallows, but allows a small smile to bloom. “Yeah. I do. Sorry it took me so long to realize, on both accounts.”
Sokka just laughs. The sound is filled to bursting with joy. Zuko’s relief is almost enough to topple him. In one smooth but unexpected motion, Sokka lifts Zuko up and twirls him about the waist. “You like me back!”
Now it’s Zuko’s turn to laugh in shocked surprise. And then he yelps, and Sokka lets out an oof , because they both seem to have forgotten that Zuko is an expert swordsman and firebender who has yet to skip a single training day as Fire Lord, and is much heavier than he looks. Zuko doesn’t even notice his sudden horizontal position though, unable to stop laughing with elation and relief.
Beneath him, Sokka is beaming. Joy saturates his tone as he says, “you like me back, and – I can stay as long as I need, Dad and Katara already know what my goal was – Tui and La, I’m so lucky. I can’t wait to tell everyone back home. This means we’re dating now, right? Because I think Katara and Aang made a bet –”
“Sokka, you idiot,” Zuko says, still laughing. All the things he’s been daydreaming about, no longer daydreams. Spirits, he can’t wait to get Sokka in some fire nation red.
“Hey! I’m not an idiot,” Sokka protests, still under him, still smiling so wide it stretches from ear to ear. “It’s my plan that got us here, after all.”
Zuko just hides his grin against Sokka’s lips in another kiss.