Aftermath
It was a gentle morning, a cool breeze providing a much needed relief from the harsh heat of the previous day. The sun had barely begun to rise over the horizon when Sokka woke up. He was rather cranky at the fact that he was awake right now, especially considering he hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, only thinking of Zuko. Parting ways to their opposing rooms last night was difficult and honestly, kind of awkward. How does one say ‘oh thank you so much for listening to me spill my trauma, goodnight’?
Sokka shook his head and got up to get some fresh air. He walked onto the deck and found Zuko, eyes closed, meditating. He paused for a moment before walking up quietly beside him. He didn’t say a word, just stared at him.
There was a small furrow in his brow, but other than that, he looked peaceful. And Sokka didn’t want to take his eyes off of him, with the sunlight striking his porcelain features so perfectly.
Slowly, Zuko opened his eyes, gold glancing over at blue, Sokka not even bothering to try and hide his staring. Now that he was facing him, he could see the prince’s tiredness under his eyes. To be honest, he probably had some dark circles too.
“I feel like shit,” Zuko said bluntly, so bluntly Sokka softly smiled.
“Yeah, makes sense.”
Zuko groaned as he rubbed his eyes, turning back at the sunrise. Sokka’s eyes didn’t move off his face.
“Thank you,” he said quietly. Sokka perked up, “for what?”
“For last night,” he looked at Sokka sincerely, “Y-you didn’t need to do all that for me,” another pause, then he looked at the ground, “You probably think I’m the most pathetic human being you’ve ever met.”
Sokka shook his head and walked up to the railing next to Zuko.
“No, one of the most reckless? Yeah, but not the most pathetic. Far from it.”
Zuko looked up at in a strangely surprised manner, but he blinked frantically.
“Well I also wanted to say sorry.”
Sokka raised a questioning eyebrow.
“For the way I treated you and your sister. I realized last night when I got upset at Zhao for calling you a,” he cleared his throat, “a savage lookalike, then I got upset at him and realized I had treated you two just as rudely. So....I’m sorry.”
Zuko’s expression and tone of voice was sincere, even if his delivery was clunky. And Sokka smiled, “apology accepted jerkbender. But you’ll have to apologize to my sister next. Good luck with that.”
Zuko’s expression was irritated again, and it felt more natural.
“I thought we were past the whole ‘jerk bender’ thing.”
Sokka leaned back on the railing, a mischievous grin on his face.
“Nope.”
Zuko rolled his eyes and placed a hand under his chin as he placed his elbow on the railing. From this angle, his scar was in full view.
He looked at how it reached all the way past his ear, probably damaging it. He had never thought about that, and his eye too—
And it was because of his own father. He shouldn’t be surprised, the Fire Lord is a horrible man, but Zuko is one of his own, his son. Shit, what a thought to comprehend.
“You don’t have to stare at me now,” Zuko said distantly, who was now glaring at Sokka.
“I wasn’t—“
Zuko cut him off with a shake of his head, “no, I’m not stupid. Everyone stares.”
Sokka was silent. He shouldn’t feel guilty, but he does.
Zuko continued, “when I first got banished, right after I got my scar, everyone looked at me. The people at the Earth Kingdom ports would look at me with pity sometimes, my crew would whisper about it. Even Zhao had to comment on it, except he seemed to find it funny, fucking weirdo.”
He took a slightly-steady-slighty-shakey breath and returned his eyes to Sokka, who looked at him sympathetically.
“Please,” he spoke quieter, “I don’t want you to look at me differently too.”
Zuko looked desperate, so Sokka gave him a small, comforting smile.
“I won’t. I promise.”
Their hand nearly touched on the railing, so Sokka took the liberty to place his hand on Zuko’s, who didn’t pull away, just looked at it in surprise, until moving to hold it. The contact made Sokka’s chest tighten, and he was sure he had never felt this way before. Not for anyone. The air must have been thickening, because Sokka was finding himself breathing quicker, and—
“—good morning guys! Where were you guys last night?” Katara yelled from the entryway to the deck. Both boys quickly snatched their hands away, their faces a bright shade of red.
“Uh.....”
“We were doing....things!”
She looked in between the two suspiciously, eventually stopping on Zuko.
“Damn, what happened to you?” She questioned.
Zuko looked offended at her question, rubbing his dark eyes.
“It was a rough night.”
“Yeah, really rough,” Sokka added. Zuko’s face looked flushed at the memory, at spilling his guts out to Sokka dramatically, both literally and metaphorically.
Before more conversation could be exchanged, Iroh walked outside, worry creased on his forehead.
“Nephew!” He exclaimed, “I didn’t wish to bother you because you were sleeping, but what happened last night? Why did you....regurgitate onto Commander Zhao?”
The older firebender seemed very upset, but it was obvious it was out of concern, not real anger.
Zuko rubbed his eyes again, and he was beginning to look more and more exhausted.
“It was an accident.”
“Well, the commander was very upset over it,” he continued softer, “I understand that you don’t like that man Zuko, but you must understand that he is the type of person you need good relations with if you’re going to make it out here.”
None of the teenagers had ever heard the retired general speak so openly, so caring. But then again, it was about his nephew’s safety, and nothing mattered more to him than that.
“I said it was an accident uncle,” Zuko’s voice was raised now, and Sokka could tell he was getting frustrated.
“And I don't want to have any sort of relations with him,” he stated with venom, wrapping his arms uncomfortably around himself. Zhao’s far too close face, the feeling of his body heat, his hand on his thigh, his desperation to get him alone. He had interacted with strangers at docks or other sailors who were not so subtle about the disgusting things they wanted to do to a young prince, so he could put Zhao’s behaviors together like a puzzle and realize he was no different from them. He could be dense at times, but he wasn’t an idiot. He understood now what the older man’s intentions were and he had no interest in interacting with him anymore.
A shudder of revulsion passed trough his bodies at the memories of all the times they had been alone, and the fact that someone as despicable and hateful as Zhao would want to—
His uncle cut off his train of thought, “I already invited the commander for tea later so that you can apologize.”
Even Sokka seemed angry at this, but Zuko looked about ready to burst, but instead, he turned around to leave, slamming the door behind him. Iroh let out a sigh, a sad one, and followed after his nephew, leaving Katara and Sokka to the quiet.
“What just happened?” Katara said as she turned to her brother, who was wearing a concerned expression.
Sokka shrugged his shoulders, “it’s a lot to explain, but man, I am not looking forward to Zhao coming back here. I think he hates me now.”
Katara scoffed, “well great, you got one of the most powerful people in the Fire Nation to hate you. Good job Sokka.”
“It’s not my fault that he has some weird thing for Zuko, I was just making sure he didn’t try any shit with him,” he defensively crossed his arms.
A scowl made its way across her face, “oh yikes. And just when I thought that guy couldn’t get any worse. Well, at least Zuko has his boyfriend to defend him.”
Sokka gritted his teeth, “he’s notmy boyfriend Katara.”
“But you wish he was,” she added with a little grin, a sing song to her voice.
“No I—shut up!”
He turned red with anger and embarrassment as his sister laughed at him, and the day carried on.
Once the afternoon hit, Zuko and Sokka met once more on the front of the ship, both wielding their swords. Sokka was just beginning to learn the basics of sword fighting from Zuko, and he was struggling to match the firebender’s talent in practice. He didn’t even seem to be putting full focus on their fight, but Sokka still struggled to match him, clumsily blocking Zuko’s swords as the prince ranted.
“I can’t believe my uncle is making me apologize to that gasbag! I didn’t even do anything wrong!”
Sokka nearly lost balance as Zuko pushed his sword against his own.
“If I could throw up on that man again, I would do it with great joy. The fucking creep deserves it.”
Sokka panted, sweat dripping down his face, “yea—yeah that’s valid.”
“I just wish my uncle would listen to me,” he got quieter, but still blocked a strike from Sokka. “I just wish he cared.” Sokka tripped.
“I’m sure he does,” he replied as he began to get up. Zuko was turned, his eyes conflicted and far off. Sokka took the moment to strike once more, but Zuko’s sword intercepted his, flinging it out of his hands.
Sokka looked at his fallen sword in amazement, then back at Zuko, who was now sweating. He took off his shirt and threw it to the side, sitting down and leaning against the railing. Sokka crawled up next to him, shoulders touching, his breathe still heavy compared to the prince. He looked at Zuko, whose jaw was clenched and sighed.
“You know,” Sokka began, “before my dad left to fight in the war, he would nag me about stuff all the time. My mom did too, before she died. I hated it, it would be little things too, like making sure to put on a parka every time I went outside or staying away from the water. But now that they’re both gone, I realized they did that because they cared about me, and that they wanted what was best for me.”
His blue eyes focused intently on the ground as he picked a piece of loose string. He continued.
“That’s why I’m sure your uncle cares. Zhao’s a slimy bastard, but I promise you your uncle is only making you make good with him because he cares about you. He doesn’t know any better.”
Zuko’s eyes almost glowed at Sokka’s words, what he said seemed to resonate deeply. He took one of his now usual-shaky-breathes-that-tried-to-be-steady and looked at Sokka with sympathy.
“I didn’t know your father was gone as well. I’m sorry to hear that.”
Sokka sook his head, a bit irritated that Zuko was changing the subject but moved on anyway, “oh he’s not dead. He’s just off fighting in the war. I haven’t seen him in years,” he paused and broke eye contact, focusing again on the loose thread on his shirt, “It’s like he’s lost, like I don’t know where he is or if he’s safe or not. So I suppose I don’t know if he—if he’s alive or not“ he stopped talking for a moment, feeling his throat close up in grief. He never talked about Dad.
Never.
Zuko noticed, and placed an unusually soft hand on his shoulder.
“Well, at least I hope he’s not dead,” Sokka practically whispered, knowing he would surely cry if he were to speak normally. Zuko’s warm hand was the only thing keeping him centered, so he focused on that, on its comfort and gentleness. The atmosphere was quiet, until Sokka let out a dry laugh and whipped his nose.
“Look at us, getting out all our emotions and traumas and stuff together.”
Zuko snorted as he leaned his head back against the railing.
“I never really had anyone to do that with until you.”
The two met eyes immediately after he said that, and Sokka looked surprised.
“Really?”
Zuko nodded quietly.
“Me too,” he added quietly, “I always had Katara and I love her, but I never felt I could talk to her about this stuff. I didn’t want to burden her.”
“Well, you’re not a burden,” Zuko added quickly. He looked angry, almost in a personal manner at Sokka calling himself that. When Sokka looked surprised at the firebender’s raised voice however, Zuko slouched a bit.
“I mean, you’re a pain in the ass, but in a good way, I guess.”
The warrior rolled his eyes sarcastically, “why thank you your highness.” He added a mock bow, though difficult to do so while seated. Zuko smiled at that, and he couldn’t help but do so too.
Ocean waves. The golden sun. The soft breeze.
The fire prince’s smile and soft golden eyes.
He hadn’t felt this content since before mom died or dad left. Here, there was no war, no responsibility or fear. Here, there was peace and joy and safety, and nothing could beat it. Well perhaps maybe—
“Prince Zuko, Commander Zhao’s ship is docking near ours.”
Zuko squeezed his eyes shut in irritation, and then, the moment was over like that.
He responded, “alright, let him do so.”
He stood up reluctantly and aided Sokka to his feet.
Zuko called out to his uncle to alert him, and he was shortly out, with Katara following curiously. She walked up beside Sokka and Zuko.
“Yuck. Is Commander Mutton Chops here already?”
Zuko sneered in reply, “sadly yes.”
“Trust me,” she pounded her fists together, “if I wasn’t trying to lay low I’d have water smacked that dirtbag off this boat faster than the speed of light.”
“I wish,” Sokka added.
The commander entered on the ship without his usual smirk, but instead, he wore an angry scowl.
“I think we fucked up,” Sokka whispered to Zuko.
Zuko whispered back, “We? You weren’t the one who puked on him in front of all his colleagues.”
Zhao was standing in front of the teenagers and Iroh now, his eyes landing on Zuko. They always landed on him.
“Prince Zuko.”
“Commander Zhao.”
Zuko could almost feel sweat form on his brow from how intensely the man was glaring at him. There was so much hatred in those amber eyes, so much he forced himself to look away, his eyes keeping on the pointed boots of the commander.
Well if he was looking for a positive, at least now Zhao probably hated him so much that he has no desire for Zuko’s presence anymore.
Iroh cleared his throat loudly, “Well please come inside and join us for tea. We will....talk then, yes?”
Zhao snorted dryly, “yes, thank you General Iroh.”
Iroh turned quickly towards the entry of the boat, not noticing Zhao turn his head back at the prince, who was still looking at the ground.
Only Sokka saw the way the older man’s eyes lingered on Zuko’s bare torso, and he felt bile rise in his throat before meeting those dark eyes.
He smiled at the warrior, then turned away.
It took him a moment to comprehend what had happened, but Zuko noticed when he had fallen behind from the rest of the group, who was already inside.
“Is everything ok?”
Sokka blinked a couple times, then brushed it off.
“No I um—I’m fine! You forgot your shirt though!” He chuckled nervously and grabbed the shirt from the ground, tossing it at the firebender’s chest.
“Thanks,” he said as he pulled it over his head and through his arms, “now come on, I want to get this meeting over with.”
The uncomfortable heat of the ship. The silence, save for the sound of pouring tea. The back handed glares being sent between person and person.
“Why are we drinking tea when it’s sweltering in here?” Katara questioned, staring at her cup of tea.
“Well well, they clearly didn’t teach basic etiquette in the colonies,” Zhao snapped back, and Katara stiffened.
“No matter what the situation is, it is never bad to enjoy a cup of tea,” Iroh added, clearly trying to alleviate the tension in the room. He went to sip his tea some more, until Zhao loudly placed his own cup down.
“So I don’t have all day, so I’d like to get what I came here for.”
Zuko’s eyes shot up from where they were placed on the tea in front of him, meeting Zhao’s own. He furrowed his eyes angrily and huffed.
“Really?” The distain was obvious, and Zhao looked annoyed.
Good: He should be.
Iroh placed a pleading hand on his nephew’s shoulder.
“Zuko, please.”
When he saw the desperation on Iroh’s face, he felt immediately guilty. His uncle didn’t deserve to deal with a disappointment like him, he had already done that for all these years at sea. So, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do, he turned to Zhao and bowed his head, just for his uncle.
“I am sorry for my actions last night Zhao.”
He could feel the smugness of the vile man, but he didn’t lift his head yet.
“You forgot something Prince Zuko,” Zhao seemed giddy with power from the tone of his voice; of course he was enjoying this.
“I’m sorry for my actions last night, Commander Zhao.”
This time he did raise his head to see the grin on the older firebender’s face, that horrible glint shining from his eyes that made his stomach twist.
“That’s more like it,” he added gleefully, and it made Zuko want to scream. He clenched his jaw tightly however, and gripped his cup. Sokka could see his tension, so he tapped his ankle lightly against Zuko’s foot, in a subtle way to say ‘hey, you’re not alone.’
Zuko’s brow relaxes and he smiles at him softly. His heart feels so full of affection and softness at the gesture Sokka gave him. It’s not the same feeling he gets with his Uncle, it is something much more burning, like when Mai kissed him on the cheek as a child, only stronger.
Little does he notice Zhao’s stare from his tea cup as he drinks, and how he notices the way Zuko looks at his “crew mate,” and the way the blue eyed boy looks back at him. Interesting.
Very interesting indeed.
The commander clears his throat and all eyes are on him.
“I believe it is time for me to return to my ship. General Iroh, thank you for the tea,” he smirked at Zuko, “and it’s always a pleasure to be in your company Prince Zuko.”
Iroh stood up with a bow, urging Zuko to do so as well. He did it curtly, then sat back down. Once his uncle escorted him out of the room, all three teenagers finally felt like they could breathe.
Then Katara started laughing, which elicited Sokka and Zuko to glance between one another in concern.
“Uhh Katara, you ok?” Sokka questioned.
“No it’s just—it’s pretty ridiculous that Commander Zhao seems to really love bullying literal children. Like, he’s a grown man and we’re a bunch of teenagers.”
Even Zuko snickered, “you know I never thought of it like that. It is pretty pathetic.”
“He should really focus on himself more often,” Sokka added, “especially looking like that.” He made a motion that imitated the obscure shape of Zhao’s facial hair. Katara laughed and Zuko quirked a brow in amusement.
“Whatever,” the prince shrugged his shoulders, “he’s gone and that’s all that matters.”
Sokka smiled at the thought, pushing back the pessimism in the back of his head saying that Zhao will be back because he always is.
Zhao’s ship was slowing moving away from their own small boat, off into the dimming horizon.
Katara had a mischievous look on her face as she stared at the departing ship. She climbed onto the railing and leaned over.
“Fuck you Zhao!” She yelled at the top of her lungs.
For a moment Sokka was worried that they might have heard her, but realized the ship was far enough for the sound to not travel.
His adrenaline was rushing through his veins now, and he joined his sister up at the railing.
“Yeah, FUCK YOU ZHAO!”
Katara giggled at that and Sokka had the dumbest grin on his face. He realized Zuko wasn’t there, so he turned around to see a rather entertained Zuko.
He held out his hand, “come on.”
Zuko grabbed his hand without hesitance, a little grin on his lips as he opened his mouth.
“Fuck you Commander Zhao!”
It was liberation. So damn liberating. Screaming at the top of their lungs at the currently worst man in their lives. Laughing at the stupidity of it all.
Looking around at the prince and his sister, Sokka felt a tightness in his chest, like something was wrapping around his heart. It was a wonderful feeling, a warm, tender feeling.
That feeling was love.