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#Truly Peak Sokka Energy
harleyification · 1 year
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Some more doodles of my Fox Spirit AU: Side B, cause I don’t think y’all understand -- Sokka being spirit-touched and Still An Atheist is SO FUCKING FUNNY TO ME
(+ Design Doodles and More Info under the cut)
Sokka in the top-right corner was inspired by This Post Also, I have No Idea how I want Sokka to look, and it’s in between these two ideas:
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I made the sketches before I sat back and came up with the design a bit more, so that’s why it’s primarily short-haired Sokka - however, I went in-between eye color in them to try to figure out which one worked best! I don’t know if I’m going to be drawing this AU too much going forward, so I wanted to lay these out before I just dropped this idea completely, jasdkljaskl
I adore how this AU can play out in so many different ways. I’m already coming up with a Side C (which is Tangled inspired), and I still adore Side A (Sokka adopting a Knowledge Seeker as a PET)! I’ve been writing down all of my ideas for this AU and doodling it ever since then, and it’s just so funny coming up with all of the possibilities!!
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7team7 · 4 years
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Sharp edges
Mai notices. Zutara from an outsider POV // eventual Zutara, eventual Mailee
A/N: ok hi i love sasusaku fics told from an outsider pov, there are a few really good ones from karin’s perspective so i was like ok sorry mai i will do this LOL (if you’re unfamiliar, karin had feelings for sasuke but he didn’t return them and he married and had a baby with sakura) this is not at all supposed to be The Other Woman type of thing, there’s no cheating, it’s really observations and another way to look at zutara yup! 
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Mai stood by Zuko because she knew he was a good man. She knew he cared about her. Her childhood crush on him wasn’t misplaced. 
When she first sensed the distance growing between them, she chalked it up to Fire Lord duties demanding all of his time. But despite his good intentions and traits, he was not in love with her the way he was in love with someone else.  
She first really noticed when he was running around the palace like a komodo chicken with its head cut off while preparing for visitors. Not just any visitors — his old friends from across the nations used the one year anniversary of his coronation as an excuse to get together. She had sensed his loneliness in the way he constantly gazed at the sky, lost in his own thoughts, in the way he sent off pages and pages of letters. But she assumed he yearned for friendship and not romance. She was only one person, she could only give him so much.
The palace was ablaze with activity in the days before the highly anticipated celebration. “Aren’t you excited?” he asked her, looking like a kid on the morning of his birthday. 
His face drooped when he realized, no, of course she wasn’t. They weren’t really her friends, they weren’t here to see her. 
She verbalized her feelings anyway, “Why would I be?” 
“Oh! I forgot to tell you that Ty Lee is coming too. And my sister got cleared by her doctors to join us for a while. That’s something, right?” 
She sighed. He was trying. He always tried his best and that was one of the things that was so endearing about him. “Should be an interesting mix,” she remarked. She excused herself to go lay down and left him to finish hanging the flags of the other nations in the hallway. Even with all his servants doing their best, no one could work fast enough to keep up with his boundless energy. He really was excited, wasn’t he?
Before she rounded the corner to her room, she could’ve sworn she noticed the way he seemed to hold onto the blue Water Tribe fabric just a bit longer. She shook her head. She must have been tired, imagining him run his thumb over the fabric before hanging it. 
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The Gaang arrived noisily as usual. The way they all arrived on time (at noon, peak Zuko energy time) was a little freaky. It seemed no amount of time would mess with their sync. 
A seemingly endless round of hugs was exchanged, everyone chattering excitedly as they caught up with each other and made plenty of nostalgic jokes that you really had to be there for to understand. 
Aang had arrived first, flying in and bowing with exaggerated politeness to “Sifu Hotman” that only served to send both Zuko and himself into a fit of giggles. Two of the world’s most powerful benders were really still kids. 
Toph came stomping in next, wondering aloud if Zuko would change her life today. He gave her an affectionate noogie, and asked, “Haven’t I already?” 
She shoved him, “Don’t go thinking you’re Iroh.” She was happy. 
Sokka would’ve been next had he not been intercepted by Suki. They had their own little reunion on the docks before joining the group. 
So that left Katara to skip up to the palace, leaving her brother behind. Mai could’ve sworn Katara was an airbender when she all but flew through the air when she launched herself at Zuko, arms outstretched for an embrace. 
And Zuko caught her. 
He captured her in a tight hug and spun her around, looking like they hopped straight out of an Ember Island Players romance.  
When her feet met the ground again, the waterbender seemed to grow embarrassed as she quickly turned away from Zuko to greet her other friends. Zuko seemed to reach for her again, but dropped his hands and squeezed them into fists. The smile on his face was just a bit less dazzling than it had been a moment before, even when Sokka came barreling through the scene with a witty comment.  
Mai tilted her head, surveying the situation. To Sokka, he was a fellow swordsman; to Aang, he was a firebending master; to Toph, he was the sibling she never had; he was their friend. To everyone — Suki, Ty Lee, Momo, Appa — he was a friend. 
But who was he to Katara? The question grated on her nerves. It was too loud. She left to check on Azula. 
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Maybe she was reading into it too much. It wasn’t like Katara had no options: Aang’s feelings for her were obvious. She watched closely to determine if those feelings were reciprocated. Maybe time and distance had changed things.
Katara had suggested going into town to explore the marketplace and Aang jumped up to join her. But then Zuko started droning on and on about the economy and instead of being bored to death like any normal person, she started offering her own suggestions for improving revenue streams and diversifying product offerings. Yawn. 
Aang trailed after then, looking forlorn. Katara had the Avatar hanging on her every word, yet she chose to pay attention to Zuko, her former enemy. That was really something. 
And Zuko, he was listening to her more intently than he ever listened to his aging advisors. 
Mai stayed back. She wasn’t interested in inserting herself. Time and distance only seemed to make Zuko more sure of his feelings, even if he didn’t realize it yet. She would need to reevaluate the situation herself. 
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Mai never felt left out as a nonbender. She had seen the way fire had destroyed her own nation. 
But she had always wished they could spar together. It wasn’t about meeting halfway, she could have easily requested that he use his swords to level the playing field. 
But his identity would always be tied to that of a firebender. He was the Fire Lord, for one thing. He could put down the swords whenever he wanted, but the fire would always be inside him, licking at his insides, smoking its way out in every exhale.  
Fire and water were opposites, but they worked together surprisingly well. Balance, she thought as she lazily twirled a dagger in her hands while watching Zuko and Katara’s sparring session.  
“You’ve improved,” he praised her, clearly impressed. Zuko wore his heart on his sleeve, something he apparently thought Mai should try. Her face pinched in for a split second when Katara’s shining eyes met his. For a waterbender, Katara’s eyes had so much warmth. Like the changing tide, they held a special sort of softness when she looked at Zuko. 
“You have too. But what else would I expect? You’re the Fire Lord now,” she teased. Fighting alongside Zuko had always felt natural, but it was a joy to be able to practice against him now that they weren’t sworn enemies. 
“A Fire Lord who will get rusty if he has to do anymore paperwork,” he grumbled, wiping the sweat from his brow. 
“Well come on. I’m sure paperwork can wait for a little while longer. Can you show me that new move you did at the end?” 
Mai remembered Zuko promising the other benders that they’d get a chance to spar with him too, but that seemed to slip his mind. He eagerly started showing her the forms. Katara picked it up quickly: it was clearly a fusion of water and firebending styles. 
An understanding started developing at the back of her mind: there were things Zuko and Katara had that Zuko and herself could not have. 
The session only ended when Azula came waltzing in, asking if anyone was up for a little fun. 
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Breakfast the next day was held outside to take advantage of the favorable weather. The pleasant breeze coupled with sunshine put everyone in a merry mood. Instead of Zuko sitting at the head of the table in his fancy throne-like chair like he would inside, everyone squished together on two long benches at one table. Mai sat to Zuko’s immediate left, at the edge of the table. 
People like Aang, Sokka, and Toph were driven by hunger and started digging in quickly. Suki had clearly taken a moment to actually get ready because when she took her place next to Sokka, her hair was neater than almost everyone else’s.
Katara came in last, yawning and rubbing the last remnants of sleep from her eyes. Zuko brightened when he saw her, “Katara! I saved you a seat.” He scooted closer to Mai, brushing her side with his, but only so he could make room for Katara. Mai sighed. Why was he so clueless sometimes?
As soon as Katara was settled next to him, Zuko poured her a steaming cup of tea. She gave him a sweet smile in thanks. He pushed a plate towards her, “Here, this one shouldn’t have any fire flakes.” She dug in eagerly, nudging his shoulder with hers in silent happiness while she chewed. Zuko’s body jostled up against Mai’s as a result of being nudged, but he had never felt so far away.
“Anyone else want some tea?” he asked the table. Of course everyone wanted a sip of Iroh’s delicious breakfast brew, so they all said yes. But instead of serving everyone the way he had served Katara only a moment ago, Zuko just passed the teapot across the table so everyone could pour their own cup.
Clueless, truly clueless. 
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“Guess what my silly brother told me when I arrived yesterday? He said, ‘Be nice.’ Ha! As if I would ever imagine being anything but,” Azula cackled. He had pulled her aside when he noticed the way everyone (or really, Katara) hesitated around her. Her unpredictable energy still put everyone on edge. 
“I can hardly believe little ZuZu is the great big Fire Lord now,” she continued. The original trio — Azula, Mai, Ty Lee — were strolling around the city. There wasn’t much to do at the palace until dinner time seeing as Zuko was tied up with his daily meetings. Bureaucracy didn’t stop, even for visitors. 
“I know right. Things are so different now.” She knew what Azula left unsaid: Zuko was Fire Lord and she wasn’t. Mai still wasn’t sure exactly how to go about tending to Azula’s feelings. She was still her friend, but everything had changed so much, there was a much needed distance between them. No matter how bored she was, she would never follow the princess’s every whim again.
“I’ve been told to work on being happy for others. Even if they have what I want, even if I can’t get it. He’s still a dumb dumb, but you know. I’m working on it.” Azula examined her nails as if the conversation was completely casual, but her words held great significance. 
Oh. 
It would take time, but maybe she could work up to being happy for them.
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She waited a day, mulling it over on her own. But she didn’t wait until everyone else went home to end it. Really, why bother? 
“What are you talking about? Why would you leave? Does this mean we’re breaking up?”
She closed her eyes. The pain and confusion written all over his face were making this difficult. “Yes. I’m not the one for you and you’re not the one for me. There’s no reason for me to stay here anymore.” She wasn’t sure where she’d go, but it might be nice to see the world when she wasn’t on a manhunt. 
He spluttered, “But if it’s not us, then who is it?!”
She waved her hand vaguely, “You’ll figure it out.” Even if he wasn’t in love with her the way he was with Katara, he was still emotionally attached. Since he had yet to confront his own feelings, she realized this break up came as quite the shock. But he’d get over it. There was someone who would help him. She was almost positive that he’d go running into her arms momentarily. 
Mai was truthful when she told Azula she loved Zuko more than she feared her. 
Zuko had done a lot of growing up, had gotten so much stronger; she was proud of him for it. But Mai had to come to terms with the fact that Zuko still feared Azula because of her capacity to hurt Katara. He still feared Azula because he loved Katara. 
Katara was so precious to him, he would put his life on the line to save her — he already had. 
That pained Mai to think about, it cut her to the core, it stung so, so badly to be the second choice. But there was nothing she could do. 
How could she compete? The difficulties of a Water Tribe girl being with a Fire Nation boy obviously didn’t matter. They would make it work. 
Conceding defeat to someone like Katara should not be so hard. Bowing out was the graceful thing to do. She wasn’t the type to make a dramatic scene anyway.  
But when she finally walked away, she dug her fingernails deep into her own palms despite it all. Loving Zuko was not so easy to let go of. 
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She returned months later with a slew of Kyoshi Warriors to celebrate Zuko’s birthday and found that Katara had never left. She squeezed Ty Lee’s hand to say I told you so. 
The girl in pink gazed up at her in wonder, “You’re so good at predicting!” 
Mai muttered, “Not that hard when it’s right in front of you.” They were clearly not shy with the displays of affection now that they were officially a couple. 
Ty Lee sighed in contentment when they walked into the palace, “The auras in here are so much happier than they were a few years ago, it feels great!” She turned to poke her girlfriend’s side, “Yours too.” 
“Don’t make me blush,” she murmured. 
“That’s why you like wearing the Kyoshi Warrior makeup, huh? But I know, I always know.” Her tone was light, but it was true. Out of everyone, it was Ty Lee who knew her best, who always stood by her. It was Ty Lee who dealt with her dreariness after breaking up with Zuko, and it was Ty Lee who gave her time and space when she hesitated to step into a new relationship. And Ty Lee was the one who made it worthwhile.
“How are you feeling though?” Ty Lee regarded the other girl carefully. Zuko had been part of her life for so long, it was no simple feat to move on from him. 
“The usual, I’m fine.” Her emotions had always been low key and thankfully, no jealous beast reared its ugly head upon seeing Zuko and Katara together. Really, she was fine.
Ty Lee nodded in satisfaction. She tilted her head thoughtfully, “They look happy, too. I’m happy for them!” Ty Lee might’ve felt it more acutely, but Mai agreed. It was a good feeling, light and sweet and satisfactory. She hoped Azula could feel even a fraction of this relief in her own life. 
It had taken a while for all of them to get to this point, but it was worth it and they were all good. If that wasn’t something to celebrate, she didn’t know what was. 
She finally walked up to him. “Happy birthday, Zuko.” 
“Thank you, Mai. It’s good to see you.”
She nodded at him. It really was good to see him so happy. It didn’t hurt anymore. Letting go of each other didn’t necessarily mean that they had lost. 
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A/N: I chose Mai over aang bc I feel like her quiet nature is just more observant and aang is babie. Also I don’t hate Maiko lol I just. Ship zutara :P I don’t really ship aang with anyone, so he’s j chillin, he has his own happy ending everything is fine 
Please let me know what you think about this one >_< I have a few other zutara things in my wips, plus of course I need to keep updating my sasusaku arranged marriage story, so some of those will come out eventually. Couldn’t keep up with zutara week or ss month but its ok! 
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May we please have the detailed reasons for your atla Sides headcanons?
Yeah sure! Though fair warning: lots of spoilers and meta for AtLA below.
Also this is LONG so I put it under a cut: 
Virgil’s favorite character as Zuko: I think Virgil would connect to the way Zuko, prior to the Day of Black Sun, exists on the fringes. He’s outcast from the Fire Nation, but he’s also outcast from the “good guys” until he earns his place among them in Book 3. I don’t mean to say that Virgil’s acceptance arc is in any way a direct parallel to Zuko’s redemption arc, because I think they are fundamentally different. But that idea of loneliness and trying desperately to figure out what the right thing to do is--even if that makes you a bad guy in the broader narrative--I think is something that would resonate with Virgil. (Plus, Zuko is peak Angsty Emo Angry Teen Energy that I think Virgil would vibe with.) 
Logan’s favorite character as Sokka: I think Logan would appreciate Sokka and also feel a certain level of defensiveness towards him, because Sokka is brilliant tactically and strategically, but that aspect to his character is frequently overlooked (though the AtLA renaissance has definitely embraced that element to him more). I think Logan would appreciate Sokka’s understated intelligence. At 15 years old, Sokka: invents hot air balloons, invents submarines, breaks into a high security prison and comes up with not one but TWO extraction plans, plans (and eventually leads) the invasion on the day of Black Sun, not to mention the role he played in Sozin’s Comet. And he does all of this without the “magic” of bending. Sokka’s greatest strength is his mind and the way he wields it. And I think Logan would see that and immediately jump on the Sokka Defense Squad. 
Patton’s favorite character as Aang: There’s a number of reasons why I think Patton’s favorite would be Aang. One of them is that as much as Patton is the “father figure”, he’s also the “inner child”. And Aang, as a character, also walks this line of being a literal child while also carrying this tremendous weight with him. Everybody--everybody’s--hope rests on this poor kid’s shoulders, and nobody lets him forget it. And few people put more pressure on Aang regarding that all than Aang himself. But he still manages to carve out time to just... be a kid. As much as he is able when he’s been tasked with saving the world. My favorite interpretation of Patton’s character involve the idea that he chooses to see good things in the world despite knowing, intimately, just how dark it can be. And Aang is an example of that in AtLA. Aang is a symbol of hope in a very dark world, but he chooses to find and seek hope himself too. ALSO, I think Patton, as Morality, would greatly and deeply appreciate the inner conflict and struggle that becomes central for Aang’s character during the Sozin Comet arc, prior to facing off with Ozai. Aang’s struggle with not wanting to kill Ozai, the complexity that is brought to that narrative through the genocide of his people and how Aang is literally the only one left that can carry on the legacy of the Air Nomads and therefore wanting to do right by their teachings even when the entire world AND his own past lives are telling him otherwise... I think Aang finding a way to strike that balance would mean a lot to Patton and resonate with him as Morality. 
Roman’s favorite character as Zuko also: So, I think Roman would also resonate with Zuko but for different reasons than Virgil. Zuko, early in the series, is obsessed with this idea of honor, and of earning his father’s love and pride. That’s what he really wants when he says he wants the Avatar. And I think Roman would understand that. I think he’d relate to this idea of wanting to make the people who matter to you proud. Roman has expressed a fear in Sanders Sides canon of letting Thomas down, and Zuko’s attempt at redemption to his father in reminiscent of a similar desire. And that never really goes away as a motivator for Zuko, even if the recipient of that desire (if you will) changes from Ozai to Iroh. After Zuko confronts Ozai on the Day of Black Sun, Zuko still expresses that desire to make the people who matter to him proud of him. Zuko doesn’t truly get that conclusion to his arc until Sozin’s Comet when he is reunited with Iroh, who affirms that feeling for him. I think that moment, and that whole dynamic to Zuko’s character arc, would feel significant to Roman.
Remus’s favorite as Bumi: Okay, we know a lot less about Remus as a character so this one is admittedly not very deep or meaningful. I tried to think of the character that radiated the most chaotic energy, and Bumi was towards the top of the list. There’s a lot of complex stuff I could say about Bumi’s character, but as for why I think he’d be Remus’s favorite? Chaos incarnate. 
Janus’s favorite as Kyoshi or Azula: First, I’ll talk about Kyoshi since that is a more simple answer. I don’t know much about canon lore outside of the show, so I’m only going to address what is in the AtLA canon. But I think Janus would appreciate how Kyoshi doesn’t pull any punches in her honesty about her murder of Chin. Kyoshi, every time she shows up, is painfully honest and blunt. She tells Aang he must kill Ozai because “without justice, there is no peace”. I think Janus would appreciate that, given how hard he works (especially lately in canon) to make Thomas be more honest with himself. 
When it comes to Azula, it’s almost the opposite. Azula lies left, right, and center. Zuko repeats this to himself when she tells him that his father plans to kill him (which, ironically, is actually a moment of truth from her). She deadpans that she’s a purple platypus bear just to prove to Toph how good of a liar she is. She lies and she manipulates, but Azula does this for two reasons that are interrelated: she lies to improve her standing (mostly in the eyes of her father), and she lies to survive. Given who Ozai is, those two things are not independent of each other. If she is to survive as a daughter of Ozai, she must continue to prove herself and improve her standing. Her father ruled--and therefore “secured” his safety--through fear, so Azula learns to do the same through manipulation and deceit. I don’t think Janus would argue that Azula is a “good aligned” character. But I think there are areas of gray with her (to what extent is she a victim? In what ways, if any, might the fact that she is a victim of abuse as well excuse the mistreatment she directed at Zuko? In what ways might the fact that neither Ursa nor Iroh appeared to have interceded on her behalf the way they did for Zuko inform her upbringing and therefore her way of approaching the world? Is that lack of intercession the fault of Ozai for favoring her? etc.) that Janus would find fascinating to explore and discuss. 
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aangfanclub · 4 years
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s3 ep 7: the runaway audio & thoughts
here’s the audio link + general thoughts from the ep! 
katara is really channeling the most mom energy I have ever seen in one individual before. it was terrifying
sorry non su fans but I was REALLY getting some pearl/amethyst vibes from katara and toph in this ep
but anyway we STAN TOPH and I cry laughing at everything toph says anyway so this episode rlly was a joy. I love my gremlin daughter
toph doing her poor little blind girl act was PEAK comedy
also that moment with toph and sokka?? and sokka talking about how katara was like his mother figure ever since he died and every time he tried to remember his mother’s face it was just katara’s??? that KILLED ME ARE YOU KIDDING
on that note we need more sokka/toph bonding pls
katara using her SWEAT to break out of prison was the coolest thing ever I may have passed away for a moment
anyway wonderful episode. lots of girl power moments mixed in with a fair amount of gremlin energy and cheating the system. also aang as a background character is truly hilarious 
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Parental Guidance Pt.5
The bad dreams had come back. Zuko barely slept a wink and even the sun was not enough to give him strength. He turned over and watched Katara sleep. He didn't bother her that night. She had been so weary after her first time bending. Zuko smiled tiredly. Katara was a bender. She was special. He knew it all along. He squirmed closer to her. She could somehow sense him and tucked her arm around his middle.
         Sir stirred. He sniffed back a few times. He whispered to himself before standing up. Zuko stifled a laugh at the noises of him stretching. It had been several hours before they could get Noaluk and Yoton out of the ice. It served them right though. Zuko didn't have enough energy to stay angry at them. But if they ever tried to hurt Katara again, he was going to do something worse than hit them with a stick. He could feed them to the Piranha Dolphins Sokka told him about.
"Zuko, are you awake?" Sir asked surprised. It was the first time he had noticed him.
Zuko rose, carefully moving Katara's arm, "Yes."
Sir nodded. "Come. Start this fire for me. I am cold."
Zuko eagerly obeyed. Sir was probably mad at him for yesterday. Maybe he could earn back his favor. He got startled when Sir started talking to himself. Sir was sick and now he sounded worse. He should have listened to Gran-Gran when she told him to come inside.
"Do you know how to put the soup on?" Zuko nodded. "Ok. Do that and then come sit with me."
        Zuko had to turn away to make a face. He was unsure about spending one on one time with Sir. It was probably just so Sir could tell him how bad he was. He thought about waking Katara. But she needed rest. Maybe he wouldn’t yell. Sir hadn’t been mean to him before. And if he did, Zuko would rather Sir yell at him while Katara couldn't see.
        Zuko moved the pot of the left-over soup over the flame like he had seen Gran-Gran do many times. He looked over to Sir who had prepared two bowls and utensils. He was wrapped in an Artic Camel skin holding a handkerchief to his dripping nostrils. He sat down across from Sir. He chewed his lip. Sir rested at his usual spot by the window rolling his neck. Zuko watched him do this for several more moments.
Sir sighed long and loud. “Where are you from?”
Zuko blinked, “The ocean.”
Sir snickered. But Zuko didn’t make a joke. “I see. What do you dream about? What is it that keeps you awake?”
Zuko didn’t answer. After he had a nightmare, he always tried to put them from his mind. It made it easier to go about his day. He didn’t even tell Katara what he dreamt about. The images were always so frightening and bloody. He didn’t want to scare her. He didn’t want Sir to think what he already thought about himself. That there must have been something wrong with him.
“Is it the wreck? The water?” Zuko still did not answer him. “Do you dream about how you got your scar?”
Zuko fidgeted with his hands. That was something that hadn’t appeared yet and hopefully wouldn’t. Zuko shrugged.
Sir sniffed, “You do not have to tell me if you do not want to. But maybe if you spoke about it, you would feel better.”
Zuko conceded that Sir may not settle for silence even if he said it was ok. “I dream about a monster.”
“It was a scary monster?” Sir said with a gentleness in his voice that Sir had not used towards him in a while.
Zuko didn’t realize how much he craved it. He continued, “The monster was name Lala. She say, You do not remember me. So, I kill you. Lala can make fire come out of her mouth. Her claws are sharp, and she cut me. I bleed and then I die. And then Lala cry. She say I miss you. And then she is small. Then I feel sad.”
Sir frowned. Zuko regretted answering, “Do you know who Lala is.”
Zuko shook his head.
“Do you dream about a monster all of the time?”
Zuko shook his head.
“Why does she miss you?”
“I don’t know.” Zuko had a difficult time holding his chin up. It was as if Sir’s eyes were too heavy. “Sometimes I dream about the ship and the old man.”
“Who is the old man?”
“I don’t know. He is bad.”
Sir tilted his head. “Why is he bad?”
“In my dream the ship sinks. We are in a room. The walls are black and hard. Everything is cold. I see my air. My breath. He say, Zuko, Zuko get up! He pick me up and  he take me out the room. Everyone is screaming. Water is inside. The man say Go, Go! He is scared. The old man is scared too. Then he close the door. The door is loud. Men bang, bang, bang, on the door. Then no sound.” Zuko took a deep breath. “I see them die. They say Why Zuko? Why did you not help? I try to tell them. Not me! I did not let you die!” He wiped his eye with the heel of his hand. “That is why he is bad. He kill them.”
              Hakoda went to conceal the tear coming from his own eye. He thought maybe Zuko had dreamt of almost drowning. Not his uncle murdering part of his own crew. Did he know the old man was his uncle? Hakoda held his jaw clenched. If a man could kill his own men, maybe he could scar a child. Hakoda thought it best to keep that information from the hurt little boy.
Katara woke up mumbling, “Zuko? Are you making breakfast already?”
              Zuko said something in Fire’s Tongue. Katara went over to stir the pot. Hakoda turned the thought again in his mind of his daughter learning his words. If he were honest with himself, the sound of the language was off putting. It had only been heard during raids. Hakoda bid away the memory of men in iron masks. Zuko was a child. And by the sound of it he didn’t seem to acknowledge that he was different from anyone in the village. Hakoda pulled himself deeper in his mind until a bowl of soup was set down. Katara smiled up at him. His little girl. She hadn’t even lived a decade and already had eyes of someone much, much older than her. Sokka had woken up at the smell of food. His mother got up at the commotion of their family breakfast. It was nice to see them all. Even with the addition of the half-faced boy.
             Sokka was still grumbling that he had to help clear the dishes. Katara combed Zuko’s hair. Zuko leaned every now and again so the teeth of the whale bone comb would scratch his scalp just a little harder. She gently gathered it together binding it with blue ribbon. Next, he helped her with her hair. He separated her pillowy curls into three sections and braided them together until there was not a hair out of place. Sokka watched closely as if Zuko were doing something remarkably interesting. Usually Sokka was already packed and heading out for weapons training.
“Why do you like to do girl stuff? You should come with me today. I can teach you how to throw a boomerang!” Sokka sat on all fours.
Zuko and Katara both turned to reject, but Sir spoke first. “That is a great idea.”
            Zuko went to yell but knew he couldn’t refuse Sir. He tried to hide the pout in his lip. Sokka teased him, but he liked sewing. Gran-Gran always told him how much of a good helper he was. He liked brushing Katara’s hair and helping cut the meat down for meals. Now he had to go with Sokka and throw a dumb crooked stick around. Sokka must have saw how he truly felt. He gave a light nudge in his arm.
“We can play afterwards, ok?” Sokka smiled.
Sokka smiled at him? “Is he ok?”, Zuko asked Katara in Fire’s tongue.
“I’m not sure.” Katara said back.
“Right! Children gather round.” Hakoda announced too loudly for the small space.
           Sir went over the new rules. Stay inside when the Earth traders come. No bending in the house. And Katara and Zuko could only speak Fire’s tongue inside. Both children nodded understanding the new restrictions. Although he didn’t care for the last rule, Zuko had noticed the looks of others when Katara and him spoke to each other in the language inside his head. He heard Katara speak and he knew he didn’t sound like her. He heard Sir speak and he knew it would be a very long time before he knew all the words he did. He would have to do his best.
“Does Sokka get new rules?” Katara’s eyes flashed with annoyance. Zuko attempted to hold the same posture.
Sir stammered, “Sokka… has to help…Sokka has to help sweep the igloo!”
“What!”
……………………………….
              Zuko and Sokka walked some distance out towards the ocean. Zuko could smell the salt and hear the waves on the stony beach. Their presence had disturbed some toddling Otter-Seals. Sir gave him a practice spear and knife too. He looked happy for some reason. Sir said that it would be good to have another warrior in the village. Maybe Sir felt proud of him. And that would have made him feel better if Katara didn’t look so sad when he left.
“Ok. First things first. This is my boomerang. They can be made from metal, bone or wood…”
              Zuko zoned out as Sokka went into the history and usages. He would have rather been at home finishing the threading on his pants. They were hand-me-downs from Sokka and they were much too long. Zuko started to tug on the cuff again.
“Hey! Quit being grumpy and pay attention!”
              Sokka went on through the motions of throwing the boomerang in more detail than necessary. Zuko’s interest was finally peaked when Sokka threw the weapon. It spun threw the air at a fantastic speed. The boomerang glared and flew back into Sokka’s waiting hand. Sokka threw it six more times and it always came back. It was like magic. Maybe weapons training wouldn’t be so bad.
              Zuko was awful at throwing a boomerang. No matter how hard he threw or how many times Sokka adjusted his position, Zuko could just not get the boomerang to come back. Finally fed up, he heaved himself backwards into the snow. A group of curious Koala-Penguins mobbed him.
Zuko growled. "Get outta here!" The Koala-Penguins waddled away, fleeing from the tiny ball of pure rage.
"It's not that bad. Let's try the spear. Maybe that’s more your thing. You know I didn’t get it on my first try either."
Zuko sat up. He twisted his mouth. "Ok. We try the spear.”
              Zuko was a little better with the spear than the boomerang. Sokka built a pile of snow for him to aim at. He could throw fine, but it kept pulling to the left. Zuko felt himself getting hot again. Sokka reassured him that he was doing well. Especially for someone who had just started. Sokka watched Zuko faithfully follow every one of his movements. He moved exactly as he did but still the spear pulled left. After many adjustments Sokka had realized he had been completely ignoring one very noticeable detail.
“Can you see out of that eye?” He pointed to Zuko’s scar.
“Not really.”
Sokka slammed his palm to his forehead. “Switch feet.”
              The spear propelled into the pile splitting it in half. It was a good start. Zuko felt a little better. He didn’t remember why he thought spending time with Sokka was going to be so boring. Next was the knife. Zuko held the wooden handle and it just felt right. The blade had been blunted but was perfect at practicing jabs in the snow. Zuko switched hands and Sokka had nearly lost his mind. Zuko, until then, never realized that most people couldn’t use both interchangeably. Zuko was discovering a little more about himself with every lesson.
              They took a small break and chewed idly on some seal jerky Sokka had smuggled under his summer parka. Zuko realized Sokka new a lot of words. There were many long words that hadn’t been spoken around him before. Zuko had never really noticed that he knew so much. Sokka at the moment was trying to describe something called Caribou-Deer migration patterns. He knew what a Caribou-Deer was but not a migration and Sokka was not doing the greatest job describing it. He focused on the words he did understand and strung together figments of comprehension.
“You talk a lot.” Zuko complimented.
Sokka frowned. “Oh. Sorry.”
Zuko panicked. He waved his hands. “No, no! You talk a lot. You know a lot of words! You are smart!” Zuko tried to explain.
Sokka perked up, “Thanks!” Sokka then put a hand on top Zuko’s head, “Are you not catching everything I’m saying?”
“Catching?” Zuko raised a brow.
Sokka pounced playfully, “Can you understand me!”
Zuko howled “Yes! Sometimes!”
              The horseplay ended in a wrestling match. Sokka had the advantage of long strong legs and easily wrangled Zuko onto his back. Three times Zuko tried to gain the upper hand but never did. And it was ok. There was next time. He finally admitted defeat and congratulated Sokka.
“Hey, Zuko?” Sokka said softly, “Thanks. For what you did. Uh, yesterday. I mean trying to help me and Katara. You have a warrior’s spirit.”
“I would do anything for Katara.” Zuko said seriously.
Sokka chuckled, “You two are really close.”
“We are friends forever.” He said proudly.
“Forever? Forever is a long time. What happens if you die?” Sokka joked.
Zuko did not miss a beat, “Then I will find your mommy and thank her for sending me here.”
Sokka’s chest lurched. He swallowed and pressed the feeling down. “You’re still happy to be here? Even after yesterday?”
“Yes.” Zuko turned to him, “This is where Katara is. I want to be with her always.”
Sokka couldn’t be upset at his undying resolve. It made Zuko sound Water Tribe. Sokka moved his hand through his hair, “You know, I think Katara is happier with you here. She used to cry a lot. And just when she stopped you moved in and did it for her.” Sokka tried to laugh, “Do you remember anything before the ship? I heard you talking to dad this morning.” His voice died when he saw Zuko’s reaction.
Zuko put his hand up to his face feeling the excessively smooth skin but not his hands touch. He lost most sensation when it completely healed. “No. It’s all muddy in my mind.”
“Maybe that’s a good thing.”
“Maybe.” Zuko turned around and threw the spear again.
“Hey Zuko. I think we should be friends too.”
Zuko stopped, “Really?”
He rubbed the back of his head, “Well, yeah. We’re going to be spending a lot of time together. And you’re not the only one who wants to see Katara happy.”
Zuko smiled. “Ok!” He jumped for joy.
Sokka laughed heartily, “You look like a Crow Owl when you do that.”
“Caw! Caw!” Zuko flapped wildly.
“You’re a weird kid.” Sokka hooked his arm around Zuko’s shoulders. “We need a little weird around here.”
              Zuko couldn’t be more delighted. He hopped around as Sokka pulled out even more seal jerky to chew on. A black and white Polar dog came running to them. First to Sokka and his seal jerky until Sokka shooed him away. Then to Zuko who was eager to pet and kiss the happy animal. The more he talked to the Polar dog the more excited it got. It jumped licking him. The massive beast was twice his size. He screamed laughing when it knocked him over licking his face.
“That looks like Moak’s sled dog.” Sokka said. But Zuko didn’t hear.
“Unavuk! Down boy!” A familiar voice commanded.
              The dog ran back to its master or masters. Yoton and Noaluk were approaching. Zuko quickly stood back up. He snarled as they neared. It didn’t seem to do much as they continued over. They weren’t moving like yesterday. All their confidence had been replaced with shame. At least that’s what Zuko hoped.
“If you wanna have another fight, be warned Zuko is pretty good with a knife.” Sokka didn’t bother to stand.
“We came to…” Noaluk began.
“To apologize.” Yoton finished.
“Our dad made us.” Noaluk griped.
The Polar dog went back to Zuko for more pets. Zuko obliged but did not look away from the twins. “Do it then.”
Noaluk’s eyes widened. Yoton looked away. “Um, we’re sorry.”
“Gran-Gran say when we say sorry, we also say why.” Zuko scratched the dog’s ear. Sokka grinned.
Yoton was the only one to speak, “We shouldn’t have picked on you guys. It was wrong of us.”
Noaluk sneered, “Even if Zuko is Fire Nation.” He finished as his brother elbowed him in the rib.
Yoton stood straight, “Can you tell Katara sorry for us? We uh-”
“You are scared.” Zuko cracked a sinister smirk.
“We aren’t scared of her we just think it’s best to stay away from her. You know women. She’s probably still angry.” Noaluk kicked at some snow.
“Yeah sure.” Sokka chuckled. “Whatever you say.”
Yoton was the first to sit. He joined Zuko in petting the dog. “We actually saw you with the knife. You’re pretty good.”
At Sokka’s urging he thanked him. “Sokka say I have good fine motor skills.”
Yoton knew what that meant as much as Zuko did, “Good for you.”
“So how did you get that scar?” Noaluk crossed his arms.
Sokka gasped, “You can’t just ask a warrior how they got their scar! You have to wait for them to tell you. Everybody knows that!”
“He’s no warrior. He’s Fire Nation.” Noaluk spat.
Zuko looked at Noaluk. He had a bandage around the bump on his head. He searched his face but only saw contempt. “Why do you say that?! Sokka you say it too. What does it mean? Everybody say Fire Tongue, Fire Nation, Fire child. I don’t understand.”
“Well that’s where you’re from right?” Yoton asked as politely as he could. “You were on a ship and it sunk, and you swam here. That’s what I heard.”
“I don’t know!” Zuko’s voice broke.
“You are! I know you are! You look Fire Nation, you speak Fire Nation.” Noaluk pointed.
“Noaluk shut up! He said he doesn’t know.” Yoton growled.
“Fire Nation came and killed our cousin and our uncle. They killed Sokka’s mom too!” Noaluk tried to defend himself. “He doesn’t belong here.” Zuko recoiled.
Sokka jumped up. “You don’t get to talk about my mom!” He stood nose to chin to the Noaluk. But he remained strong with his chest puffed and nostrils flared, “And you don’t get to decide who belongs where. Only my dad decides that. And Zuko lives with us. So then that means he belongs doesn’t it?”
Yoton looked at the sky, “That is true. And if you don’t remember being from the Fire Nation then it doesn’t really make you Fire Nation. And if he remembers coming from the ocean…”
Noaluk looked at his twin brother, “Then he’s from the ocean? Like a fish?”
“No! You seal bums. It means he gets to choose. And Zuko chooses Water Tribe. Right Zuko?” Sokka whirled around to see  tears falling from his working eye.
“Sokka I think I want to go home.” Zuko exhaled.
Yoton put a hand on his shoulder, “Hey, don’t cry. We are sorry.” Unavuk licked at his tears.
“I want to see Katara please.” Zuko sniffed.
“Ok Zuko. We’ll head home.” Sokka helped him up. Zuko rubbed his eye. “We’ll tell Dad and Gran- Gran how good you did.”
             Zuko nodded meekly. All he wanted was his best friend’s arms around him and to hear her nice sweet voice. He wanted to look into her big blue eyes and tell her he was sorry. What if his eyes were blue? Maybe if his eyes were blue too than he wouldn’t feel so awful.
            Sokka walked Zuko back to the igloo. Sir was asleep with a wet handkerchief and Gran-Gran had laid out the fish to be deboned for dinner. Katara sat with her slate doodled with letter learning. She was tapping the chalk to the slate when they walked in. Zuko looked at her solemn face and mussed hair. Katara scratches her head when she gets fretful. Zuko saw her and just burst from the inside. Something had bubbled in his chest and he couldn’t contain it anymore. He saw her and she saw him. He ran to her and wept into her soft blue dress.
“Sokka what did you do?!” Katara scolded.
“I didn’t do anything!” Sokka put up his hands.
Zuko couldn’t hold back. He spilled his guts in a mixture of Fire’s Tongue and the Water Language.  Any word he spout seemed to be understood by her. She nodded and mm-hmmed until he was finished. He told her about the training and Sokka being nice, and then the conversation with the twins. How he was Fire Nation, how he was different. How he didn’t belong.
Katara nodded until he had finished, “Zuko I don’t want you to say anything like that every again.”
Zuko looked up at her, “What?”
“You know you belong here.” She shook her head with as much wisdom as Gran-Gran, “The instant I saw you I knew you were sent from La-”
“But why am I your enemy?!” Zuko gritted.
Katara swung him down into her lap and covered his mouth, “You never, never say that. You are my friend forever. If Mommy thought you were my enemy then she wouldn’t have sent you to me! Don’t you ever question that.”
Zuko swallowed. He saw her eyes and saw no lie. She uncovered his mouth, “Ok.” He hiccupped.
“Do you understand?” Katara emphasized.
Zuko choked, “Yes!”
“Ok you know that I love you right?”
Zuko let out a strangled sob, “I love you too.”
Katara gripped him tight after that. She didn’t know why, but she held onto him for dear life. It was like if she hadn’t held him in her embrace, he was going to float away from her whole world. “Don’t you forget.”
“I won’t.”
              Zuko laid in his fur bedding. It had been thinned for the weather but Zuko felt like he was burning alive. He felt the thick warm air in the atmosphere and hesitantly let it roam over his skin. The heat was starting to make him feel dizzy. Katara was next to him. Her exhales helped cool his skin some. He ignored the suffocating heat and forced himself into sleep.
              Uncle hadn’t come back yet. He hated when he left. Even if it was just for food. It felt lonely with no one else in the small quarters. Zuko opened an eye to stare at the black metal ceiling. It had become a new hobby for him. Day after day he stared at the ceiling and counted the tiny fissures. Sometimes there were thirty sometimes thirty-one. There wasn't much else he could do. Sometimes Uncle would try to teach him Pai sho or the crew would play music on the top deck. Any movement in his face caused unbearable flashes of pain. Even speaking pulled his twisted flesh. When he had his fill of staring, he closed his eyes to listen to the sounds of the ship. He homed in on the sound of the propeller to avoid the constant agony. The hum was something like a lullaby. He could feel his muscles started to relax and the dark new world fade.
              A jolt startled him. Metal screeched and groaned. The propeller boomed at the sudden halt. Zuko moved up to his elbows. He heard yelling. It sounded like Lieutenant Jee. Uncle burst in through the door. Water flooded in. He could see his breath white and opaque. When had it gotten so cold? His Uncle shouted something, but he didn’t quite hear it. He was stuck in his place held down by a growing panic.
“Zuko! Get up!” Uncle Iroh yelled.
“Uncle what’s happening?” Zuko didn’t know how the words left him.
        Uncle didn’t answer. He ran to him trudging through the raising water and cradled him as they made their escape. Lieutenant Jee was in the hall barking orders. He spotted them and told them to get to the skiff. Soldiers ran passed some half-dressed being woken by the shouting. The ship lurched. Zuko and Uncle fell into the wall. The screaming got louder. We’re going to sink! Abandon ship! Move now! Go! They reached a door at the end of the hall.
“We need to close the watertight door.”
“There are men down there, Lieutenant!”
“Sir! We need to close it now!”
                 Uncle put him down. The water was freezing. He had never touched anything like it. He felt the sting of the cold only after a moment. He heard the screaming again. Wait! Stop! Please!  Uncle pulled a lever and the door locked. The water had stopped rushing through the hall. Zuko was grateful as the frigid water had reached his knees. He jumped at the sound of banging. It was so loud. Uncle picked him back up.
“Uncle, wait! They have to get out!”
                 Zuko pled and thrashed but they continued up to the top deck. He had never seen the ocean so dark. Snow and ice beat at them like whips. Zuko struggled away from his uncle. He felt his wound rip in several places. He fell to the deck. Through his pain he heard a strange noise come from the ship. Then engine had gave way and exploded. The forced had flung him into the waiting embrace of the ocean. Zuko opened his eyes. His senses went numb. He couldn’t breathe. He was underwater. A man came into view. It was Lieutenant Jee. He sunk slowly passed him. Just an arm’s length away. Black water turned red. One body after the other sunk into nothingness.
“This is your fault.” A rumbling voice said.
Zuko swallowed water.
“All of this is your fault. You should be dead.”
Water filled his lungs.
“Die!”
A flash of fire blinded him.
              Zuko let out a silent scream. He sat up drenched in sweat. His veins surged with something scalding and powerful. Every nerve in his body shattered with shocks making him twitch. The sensation shot up his spine until he was writhing in the strange electricity. The spasms moved down his arms and to his fingers. He shut his eyes and tried to will his body to be still. Another shock moved through his arm. Then another. Zuko gripped the bedding. A cool hand placed a feather light touch on his forearm.
              Two flames sputtered from his fingertips singeing the furs. Zuko impulsively tried to pat the flame out. Zuko had burnt every finger in the process. He pulled his fists to his chest. The stench of the burnt fur filled his nose. He did not cry. He did not make a sound. If anyone saw him then he would be sent away. No one could know that fire had just come out of his hands. Know could know that he was…
“You’re a firebender.”
              Big brown ringlets misplaced and surrounded Katara like a halo. Her sleepy eyes looked into his soul waiting for his response. Zuko put out his hands. She took them and left small kisses over his burns. Nothing needed to be said as the gathered the burnt blanket quietly. They found Gran-Gran’s sheers and cut out the damaged bits. Katara gathered fresh water and ran it over his injuries. Zuko couldn’t understand why she wasn’t furious with him. She hadn’t stopped smiling in fact. He couldn’t for the life of him understand why.
“What do you two think you’re doing?” Sir asked.
Katara dropped the sheers causing a noisy clang. Zuko wanted to run. They both gaped as Sir started to get up. Katara put the blanket behind her back.
“Oh. Did you have an accident?” Sir walked over to them. “You need to change clothes.”
Zuko shuttered at Sir’s gentle tone. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, honey don’t be sorry. It happens.” Sir moved tiredly to the chest of folded clothing. “Here. You can change into this.” He held a dull grey sleeping outfit. Zuko reached for them regardless. “What happened to your hands?!”
The tears started to slip. “I’m sorry.”
“You are burnt. Hold on.”
          Sir came back with bandages. Zuko knew he must have looked wretched blubbering the way he was. Sir gingerly wrapped the blistering burns. Zuko withdrew.
“Are you going to send me away?”
“Don’t say that.” Katara said.
“But I’m Fire Nation. I firebend. I- I don’t under-” He choked as his thoughts started to race. Sparks flashed in his palm.
“What’s happening?” Sokka asked.
“Zuko you have to calm down.” Sir clutched his wrists.
“But everyone will hate me!” A red flame flashed and dissipated.
“Woah! You’re a firebender!” Sokka cried.
“I don’t want to be!”
Sir pressed his lips together. “Zuko, look at me you need to calm down.”
              Zuko was in hysterics. Noaluk was right. He didn’t belong. Another flash. This time too close to Sir’s face. A spark had caught in his beard. Kehana was right to hate him. He was dangerous. He couldn’t control himself. He screamed when a larger flame ignited. Light filled the igloo. Katara stepped back. What if he hurt Katara? Zuko wanted to puke. More sparks. The voice was right. Still Sir held on. Katara poured water over his hands.
“I’m so sorry. Please don’t hate me.” Zuko felt woozy.
              Hakoda yanked Zuko to him. Just like that night when Zuko could barely form a sentence. He trembled sobbing. Just like Katara had done all those nights. He could feel Zuko’s fear seep into him. Sir cooed and hushed him. An arrow shot through his heart.
“I shouldn’t be here. I should be dead.”
              Hakoda pulled him closer. What had been done to this child to make him say something so horrific. Where had he heard something so awful. Hakoda had made his decision. Zuko was to stay. He wasn’t going to allow any more harm to come to this child of the ocean. Katara wept silently joining the embrace. And then Sokka. His mother snored, not at all disturbed. He dragged the bundle of children to his bedding. Zuko tucked to his left and Katara nestled to his right with Sokka next to her. Hopefully, they all wouldn’t wake up with colds in the morning.
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bellatrixobsessed1 · 6 years
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I’ll Meet You At The Bottom (Part 20)
“I’m sorry, Sokka.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. She pressed her cheek into the pillow.
 “You should apologize to yourself, not me.” He replied, rubbing circles over her back, when that failed to soother her, he tried trailing his fingers through Azula’s locks. She seemed to get more comfort out of that so he kept it up.
 “I had to do it.” She muttered. “I couldn’t take it anymore.”
 Were it not tucked under her pillow, he would have taken her hand. “Maybe you should just focus on one thing first. You haven’t thought about cactus juice in a while.”
 “That sounds nice right now.” She replied. Her head was still beating. The only thing the intake of tears seemed to do for her was ease the tremors. At least for a few hours, they were back and worse than before. She found herself lapsing in and out of periods of confusion, periods where she couldn’t remember what she had said or done.
 Nights and days blended together. Three or four may have passed, but she couldn’t say for sure. It didn’t really matter how many had gone by, things didn’t seem to get any easier. She felt queasy and sore all the time. Her eyes burned and watered and her chest constantly constrained. The only thing that kept her going were the days she allowed herself a pinch of the tears—every other day, just enough to her a lift. Today was one such day. Combined with the cactus juice withdrawal, she knew she was in for another restless night. But she sprinkled some of the reddish powder onto the dresser regardless. She tired to get Sokka to step out for a moment, she could never seem to inhale the tears when he was in the room. It brought her a sense of discomfort to have someone watching her ruin herself. This time Sokka didn’t step out, instead he reclined in her armchair.
 “Not this time.” He replied. “I know what you’re doing, I don’t see what difference it makes to send me away.”
 “You said you paint?” Azula asked.
 He crinkled his brows, “what does that have to do with anything?”
 “Do you like people watching you paint?”
 “No, but…”
 “They know that you’re painting, so why does it matter.” Azula mumbled, pushing the powder around with her finger.
 “It just feels weird and uncomfortable.” He replied. “I feel like I’m being judged.
 “Exactly.” Azula agreed as she pulled him to his feet. With what remained of her energy, she tugged him across the room and heaved him into the hallway.
 “I won’t judge you.” He tried as she started to shut her door.
 “How about this, you show me that painting you keep talking about, and I’ll let you stay.” She offered.
 “Ya know what, I think I like it out here. This hallway is pretty nice.” He smiled. “That is one lovely vase.” His false interest was lightly amusing, she almost stayed to listen to him ramble on, but the tears called. Whatever he was painting he was protective over it. She decided that it must be truly mortifying if he would rather yield and let her inhale the tears in peace. Frankly, it peaked her curiosity—one day, when she was better, she would search out this mysterious painting. She stashed the pouch back to where she had retrieved it from and beckoned Sokka back inside. She sat herself down upon her bed and with her last minutes of coherence, switched out the dressings on her foot. It was taking a while, much longer than usual to recover from her infection and even from the trivial scrapes and bruises. It was becoming a nuisance, one she hoped would vanish when she finally found the strength to separate from the Ruby Tears once and for all. She fell back onto the bed and waited for her perception to alter. For a brief period she thought about what it must be like for Sokka to watch her stumble around and babble nonsensically. She ought to be embarrassed. She, for the first time, considered how odd it was that she was more uncomfortable with Sokka watching her take the tears than to witness her on them. The musings slowly muffled until they became no more, replaced by wispy and light music in pitches and melodies she’d never heard before. It was like spirit music, soft, lulling spirit music. She could have been humming along, she thinks that she was.
 .oOo.
 Azula is again lost in her own world. At least these past few times, her world hasn’t been petrifying, it seemed to make her happy. He just wished that her happiness wasn’t so artificial. She helped him realize that he’d rather be miserable and angry than engrossed in some kind of mock joy. For once she was rather mellow, she lie on the bed staring at something he couldn’t see; something that made her smile, that made her laugh. If only he could manage to do that, maybe then she wouldn’t have taken the tears.
Perhaps, he pondered, he should try it. His humor had ruined a lot of things, had pushed a lot of people away. But those people already had laugher. Maybe he could give his jokes to someone who could use them. Though he didn’t think his sense of humor was the same as Azula’s. It couldn’t hurt to try. If she took well to his jests, he might be able to tell them without fear.
 He sighed to himself, he was placing a lot on Azula whether she knew it or not. He felt guilty all over again. He was placing his wellbeing on her and she didn’t even know it. He was placing his peace of mind and happiness on someone who was struggling to maintain her own. Deep down he felt like he was using her more than he was supporting her. Not for the first time he speculated that he was helping her only to meet his own ends. Would he stick around if he found himself in a more stable place? Would it matter if he didn’t? She was always one to assist people when it would suit her needs, why should he care?
 “Hey, socks?” Her voice was soft. Innocent almost.
 “Sokka.” He corrected.
 She gave him a dismissive hand flap. “Thanks for staying with me.” She reached her hand out and snatched at something he couldn’t see, with a whispered, ‘caught it’, before she turned her focus back to him. “I’m happy you stayed.”
 In those four words he decided that it did matter if he used her. In those for words he knew that he would stick around even if he found that he didn’t need her anymore. And in those four words he realized that he couldn’t possibly be using her, he cared for her. As truly infuriating as she could be, he had told her the truth when she asked him if he did. Still, that didn’t change that he was placing a heavy burden on unsuspecting shoulders.
 Her look was very far away but she spoke again. “No one has ever stayed with me before. I’m glad you stayed.” She was on her feet and moving about as if seeking something or someone out. “I like you, Sokka.” She made off as though she were plucking something from the wall. She stroked whatever it was before pulling his arm out. In his palm she placed something she clearly thought was beautiful. Fleetingly, he wished he could see it too.
 She folded her arms around him and nestled her cheek against his chest. Against what might have been his better judgment, he returned the first gesture and let her coo kind things to him as she tapped her finger on his torso. Mostly about how he was helpful but with a sprinkle of comments on his abs and the like. He had to admit it has been some time since anyone has given him praise or acknowledgement. Coming from her, it seemed somehow more flattering.
He didn’t know how much of it was the drugs talking and how much of it was the princess herself. It didn’t matter, it felt good to be praised. Maybe just this once, he would accept a possibly false sense of joy.
 He hoped that she would remember the moment.  
He would.
 .oOo.
 Azula woke feeling dizzy and feverish, she didn’t know that she could even call what she had done waking up. It had become the norm for her to feel surreal sensations. Ambiances that she, even with all of the extravagant literacy she’d acquired, couldn’t describe. But the feeling that came over her was particularly indescribable. Whenever she thought she’d picked out a word for the feeling, it left her mind. It alarmed her, usually the trips didn’t last so long. She couldn’t recall a time where they lingered into the next morning. Something was different, she couldn’t place it.
 She remained in such a state for hours, slowly detaching from herself in a way she never had before. She couldn’t seem to feel her weight, couldn’t feel her body at all. She would move her arm, left and right, slowly and then quickly. Azula could see the motion, she knew she was moving, but she couldn’t feel it. It was like watching someone else’s hand.
 “Azula are you alright?” Sokka asked. “What are you doing with your hand over there.” He cracked a smile.
 And when she answered, the words didn’t seem to come from her own lips, “I’m fine, my hand just fell asleep.” She didn’t think that, that was a lie, but she didn’t know that it was the truth either.
She let him return to his book.
 When sensation did return, there was a fuzzy sort of electric feeling in her hand. Though she wasn’t working with her bending. The tingling continued. There was a peculiar taste in her mouth like copper maybe, mixed with salt. Azula ran her finger over her lips and on the inside of her cheek, they came up free of blood. Nothing explained the metallic taste. “Can you get me something to eat?” She asked, she wasn’t especially hungry but she would do just about anything to rid herself of the taste.
 “Sure, what do you have in mind?” He asked.
 “It doesn’t matter. Just no duck meat, I don’t like duck.”
 “I think I can manage that.” He replied.
 She rolled onto her side, waiting for the tingling to subside.
 .oOo.
 Sokka never knew what to expect when leaving Azula. He loathed leaving her on her own because she always seemed to have a surprise for him when he returned. He was growing weary of surprises. He greeted Toph first. “Long time no see.”
 “Long time, never saw.” Toph rose her eyes. “It’s good to talk to you again Sokka.”
 “How is Azula?” Aang asked. “Katara said she seemed better.”
 “I guess in some ways she is.” Sokka replied.
 “Does she need another waterbending session?” Katara asked.
 Sokka was hit with another pang of guilt. Lately all he’d been doing was coming downstairs to ask Katara to pacify Azula. “No, she needs something to eat. How have you been, Katara?”
 “I’d be better if you came down more often.” He could hear some resentment in her voice and he didn’t blame her for it. He would ask her to visit but Azula still didn’t take well to guests. She still had too many secrets to guard.
 “I’ll try to.” Sokka replied. He meant it, with any luck he could get Azula in a comfy enough state to leave her room for a few minutes. It would do her well to talk to other people. “I’ll see if I can get Azula to tag along.”
 “Good luck with that.” Toph grumbled.
 “I think that sounds great.” Aang smiled.
 He turned back to Katara as he prepared a meal for he and Azula. “Anything interesting happen down here.”
 “Zuko and Appa got into a fight,” Katara replied, “that was pretty interesting.”
 “He lost.” Toph added.
 “What was it over.” Sokka asked.
 “I parked him to close to where his palanquin is usually parked.” Aang explained. “He threatened to give me a fine.”
 “I think Zuko’s getting bored. He hasn’t had many problems lately so he’s trying to make some.” Katara rolled her eyes. “It’s very like him to do that.”
 Sokka laughed, he forgot how much he missed his crew. The price of caring for Azula was becoming apparent. He let himself dwell on it a bit more. Was he coddling her? She was doing well enough staying away from the cactus juice, it might not hurt to leave her by herself for a little while. He could go for some fresh air. “Maybe we can go have a picnic in the palace garden?” Sokka offered. “After I give Azula her food.”
 “That sounds wonderful, Sokka.”
 It struck him then that he hadn’t had a picnic since the one with Suki, suddenly his own suggestion lost its appeal.
 “You’re still alive!” Zuko laughed. “I didn’t know if I was going to see you again.”
 “Yeah.” He said rubbing his head. “I’m still around.”
 “Azula isn’t’ giving you a hard time, is she?” He asked.
 “Maybe a little.” It was and understatement. “She’s alright though.” Even as he spoke, he couldn’t help but think of what surprise she might have in store for him when he came back to her. Of all of the scenarios that played out in his mind—from her complaining about his cooking and refusing to eat it to her downing a bottle of cactus juice—he didn’t imagine the scene she actually had prepared for him.
 He thought he would give her a surprise of her own. Zuko was rather insistent on checking on her. So long as she was still in bed, she probably couldn’t get too angry. As always, she was one step ahead of him.
 He found her on the ground, her body twitching and spasming, a light froth bubbling between her lips.
 She must have hit her head on the way down, a steady flow of read trickled between her eyes. His platter collided with the floor. When he looked to his left Zuko was gone, likely to fetch Katara. Once again Azula would have the palace in turmoil. He snatched up a pillow and put it beneath her head. Agni knew how many times it had already knocked against the floor.
 Her eyes met his for a second before flickering away. She was in a perilous state and he couldn’t do anything for her. He clenched his teeth. He was going to lose it again. He couldn’t, not yet. He didn’t know if he said it more to convince himself or to convince her, “it’s going to be alright, you’re going to be just fine.” Sokka didn’t even know if she could hear him. But he took her hand and held it until the jerking came to a stop.
He wiped her mouth and stroked the back of her hand. Her awareness waned, he was cradling a limp body in his arms. “You just got back.” He mumbled, “you can’t leave me too.”
 Just like that he was gone again, thrown right back into the past when he held sea-logged Suki’s body for the first time. She was wet and cold and didn’t feel human. Her lips a sickly blue, skin unnaturally puffy. It didn’t matter that Azula’s body was still very warm nor that her skin still had patches of color. In that moment there was no separation between she and Suki.
 “You have to let go of her, Sokka.” Katara tried gently as she worked to pry his hands away.
 He wouldn’t let her do it, he wouldn’t let her take Suki from him again.
 “If you don’t let go of her, we can’t help her.” Katara tried once more.
 He clutched Azula closer. He wouldn’t let them burry Suki again. In retrospect, Sokka couldn’t hold it against Zuko. As harsh as knocking him out was, they probably wouldn’t have been able to take Azula in any other way. The firebender came to before he did. From the sound of it she was still dizzy and disoriented. Her voice sounding hazy and puzzled.
 Zuko left him with little time to regain his bearings. He could see the temper, so characteristic of his family, flaring in his eyes. As soon as Sokka sat up, the Fire Lord had him pulled to the side. “Sokka, what’s wrong with her?” He demanded quite roughly. “I want the truth this time.”
 Part of Sokka wanted to throw it back at him and ask when he started to care. Wanted to ask, where he has been this whole time. He didn’t have the energy for a fight, even if he did, he didn’t want a fight. But he didn’t want to sever the little trust he had acquired with Azula.
 “We can’t really help her if we don’t know what’s wrong.” Katara added. “Please, tell us what’s going on.”
 Azula was going to be pissed, very much so. With as much dejection as he felt he answered, “she’s on drugs.”
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bellatrixobsessed1 · 6 years
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I’ll Meet You At The Bottom (Part 7)
Sokka awoke with an aching back. There was nothing quite as unpleasant as sleeping on the floor, but he didn’t want to leave Azula alone, he had to make sure that the woman didn’t hurt herself.  For the most part, she had lie quietly—save for a few sobs—upon the bed. Something eventually provoked her though. Enough to get her to abruptly spring from her bed and start throwing punches. Sokka didn’t make a move to stop her until she started beating her fists against the wall. He felt it unwise to actually grab hold of her arms; not wanting to actually fight the woman coupled with a contradictory fear that he’d snap her wrists if he held too tight, kept him from doing so. Instead he held his hand level with the spot she was punching, by the time Azula’s rage subsided his knuckles were raw and bore traces of blood. As a painful tingling danced about the back of his hand, he watched her walk lopsidedly back to her bed, breathing heavily.
She never did fall asleep.
Neither did he.
So when she finally looked at him with clear eyes and with a mind that processed he truly was there—and had been the whole time, he didn’t know what to tell her. He knew he’d seen something she didn’t want him too, and by the vicious gaze she was cutting him, it was abundantly clear that he was to keep quiet.
  “Good morning.” Sokka tried.
 “I told you not to come back here.” Her voice was dangerously low.
 “Sorry, I just wanted to make sure that you were okay.” He replied lamely.
 “I’m fine.” Azula grumbled.
 “Fine? You were yelling at the corner of the room.” He pointed out.
 “Don’t you have some where to be?” Azula asked
 He held up his hand, “you almost did this,” he pointed to his bruised knuckles. “To yourself.”
 “I’m sure you’d much rather be elsewhere.”
  “You’re on drugs.” Sokka persisted more bluntly.
 Azula changed directions again. “Don’t you have a painting to work on?”
 “Don’t you realize how serious this is?” He asked, growing increasingly more frustrated.
 “You seemed pretty eager to tell me about it a few days ago.” Azula diverted. “So talk. Tell me about your stupid painting.”
 “We can talk about that again after we talk about more important problems.” Sokka replied.
 “Like how you’re still standing in my room, talking to me like I’m a child.” Azula retaliated. “You look like hell, by the way.”
 He had to admit that she was as good at dodging subjects as she was at dodging attacks when they battled. So good, in fact, that he almost took the bait and replied, “if I look like hell, then what do you look like?” He held his tongue, the last thing he wanted to do was make her feel worse than she probably already did. Even less so, did he want to push her away for good. So instead he backtracked again, “You’re in a lot of trouble and I want to help—”
 She cut him off. “Your friends are probably looking for you.”
 Sokka pinched the bridge of his nose, it would seem that he’d have to change his line of attack. “They might be.” He agreed. “So why don’t you come downstairs and join me for breakfast?” He already knew the answer.
 Fixing him a hard stare, Azula sat back down and crossed her arms over her chest. “I have no more plans to interact with you nor your barbaric friends.”
 Finally, Sokka’s annoyance reached its peak. Clearly he was getting nowhere with her, she didn’t seem to want the help anyhow. She had a lot of insults to throw and no gratitude to give. “Me and my friends are barbaric? You’ve been wearing the same thing for days now, and you said I liked like hell? Ya know what? Fine, don’t come with me! If you want to be alone, then be alone.” He turned his back to her made a point of not looking over his shoulder as he walked, knowing that if he did those tired and solemn eyes would coax him back. If he looked back he would see her tousled persona and tiny frame in the doorway growing smaller and smaller still as he put distance between him. And if he looked back, he would have caught the glimmer of regret in her eyes and the way she seemed to shrink back into her room. Even without the visual he regretted the ruthlessness of his words, knowing that he’d probably struck a few raw points.
 Instead he focused on what he would say if any of his friends asked him where he had disappeared to and what happened to his hand.
 .oOo.
 Azula knew that she had a habit of lashing out when angry or afraid. It was a newly acquired habit that seemed to have come with, or have been heightened by her abuses. She longed to go back to the time when she could just shut down altogether and display no emotion. It was easier. Easier and safer. She made a mistake in letting the Water Tribe man in, his angry departure only left her feeling worse than she would have if she didn’t take the risk at all. She truly had wanted to let him in, but not that far. He entered too fast and for it, saw too much too soon.
 A new and horrible fear taunted Azula’s mind. What if he shared what he had seen? She would have to hold off on taking another dose, but Agni she needed one right now. She needed it so desperately as the scene from that morning played itself back in her mind. She couldn’t help but feel that he was right, she looked as dreadful as she felt. This haircut was less flattering than the first time she’d sliced her hair up and only served to annunciate how sullen and empty her face had become. She smelled heavily of tobacco and could very well use another shower. Her wrinkled clothing reminded her of just how lazy she’d grown…how useless. And the more she thought about it, the less energy she seemed to have to fix it. Each insult that she delivered to herself—amplified by Sokka’s potent reminder—drained more and more motivation from her. She was lethargic in the to begin with. The Ruby Tears always seemed to leave her feeling that way, especially if she took the cactus juice with it.
She needed something to make the truth go away.
To make everything go away.
 Azula clutched her left wrist with a bruising force. She could feel the rough patches of scars, they offered their own methods as to how to make everything stop. Their suggestions were quite strong, she needed something to quiet them before…
She gripped her hand tighter.
 Azula moved her hand to her head, trying to dull the pounding behind her eyes. The pain of it clouded her vision some. Weak and trembling legs, barely held her up right. She didn’t quite make it to her bed before collapsing against it. The beating in her brain doubled. Had she hit herself? A burst of warmth was spreading at her temple. She tried to put two and two together but she was sleepy.
So sleepy.
 .oOo.
 “Are you okay Sokka? You’ve been acting moody all morning.” Aang asked.
 “Yeah you’re giving Madame Fussy Britches and Sir Knicker Knots some really good competition.” Toph pointed to Katara and Zuko.
 “Sorry.” Sokka apologized. “I guess I’m just having another rough day.” He had no intention of elaborating. He should have been more patient with Azula. Of course, she was going to have a collection of off-handed remarks at the ready. She was hurt and afraid and he was pushing her. For all he know, it could have been the drugs talking. And even if she that wasn’t the case, she was still Azula. The same princess who had something sassy and witty to say.
And he had kicked her when she was done. He tried to take a bite of his arctic hen but the whole ordeal had left a sour taste in his mouth that was keeping him from enjoying it. If Suki were around she would know how to handle it.  He took a seat, but didn’t bother with anymore of the food set before him. He had no appetite for it, especially now that the Kyoshi warrior was back in his thoughts.
 His stomach lolled. He remembered the last thing Suki had said to him before leaving him; “you know what Sokka, you’re an ass!” He felt sick. “If you can’t treat a lady with respect than you deserve to be alone. I don’t even know why I tried, you made a horrible first impression.”
 Tears prickled behind his eyes, the same tears he promised not to shed again. Apparently, he still couldn’t treat a lady with respect.
 .oOo.
 When one has nowhere to be and nothing of importance to do, time seems to just drift away. In that aspect it was very easy for Azula to slip into another one of her drunken dazes. She had scarcely crashed from the Ruby Tears and she was already lifting herself up again. Unlike the Tears, the cactus juice left her feeling quite marvelous. She had a burst of energy that her body couldn’t support.
 Her latest task was to practice some firebending again. She dropped into a very basic stance, the one she always did when warming up. Her weight was shifted mostly upon her right foot so when she shifted into the next motion her body shook. She pushed forward anyhow, swaying a little more with each movement. She began lifting her arms; this stance in particular required symmetry—arms raising fluidly at the same time. Though she would have argued that, that was exactly what she had accomplished, Azula’s right arm was fully erect many seconds before her left. She offered a clumsy kick and an explosion of flames. With that blast she was on her back, wondering what had went wrong. She got to her feet, took another drink, and started over. Her stance twice as unbalanced as the first. Yet, that didn’t hinder her in pumping her arms back and forth, spitting out tiny and pathetic balls of fire.
But in her own mind she was doing very good.
In her own mind she had all the esteem and elegance she had once been praised for.
 .oOo.
 Sokka stood in front of her door. He’d been standing there for some twenty minutes trying to decide if it was wroth it or if he should go back to his room, tear up his painting, and start one with a more promising subject. He was determined to prove Suki wrong, determined to show her that he had respect. So with all of the courage Suki usually instilled in him, he give Azula’s door three sturdy knocks. She probably wouldn’t answer anyhow. He gave the woman a few moments before backing away, a very premature motion. The door was yanked open with a violent force.
 “Oh, good you’re back. Wonderful.” Azula smiled. “I wasjust bending my practicing.” She slurred. “Maybe you can do me a favor and stand realniceandstill.”
 Looking at the princess’ face again he wondered when the last time it was that anyone had treated her with respect. Her hair was plastered to her face by a sheen of sweat, there was a vicious gleam in her unfocused eyes, she was practically sliding down the doorframe she was leaning against, and her robe was slipping from her shoulders. He was frustrated to see that she had changed back into it instead of something clean. Regardless, he made a move to push it back up but she slapped the back of his hand. From what he gathered it had been a very long time since anyone had shown her respect.  Despite her less than elegant words and appearance, he was going to try.
 He should have been clearer about his intentions. “Can I fix your robe?” He offered.
 “C-can can you fuckoff?” She asked, dipping more heavily into the door. Her robed fell down more, prompting him to avert his gaze.
 “Can you fix your robe?” He tried, as he locked eyes with her.
 “Does it bother you?” She questioned. He only had time to open his mouth before she spoke again, “‘cause if it does I have some’in that’ll really drive youinsane.” He only had time to shut it once more before the princess tore her robe completely open. He was relived to find that she still, at the very least, had those baggy sweatpants on.
 No less, the sound of voices coming nearer instilled within Sokka, a new sense of urgency. The last thing Azula needed was to give the palace more rumors to be abuzz with. “Can we do this inside your room, in privet?”
 Azula snorted and gave a laugh that lacked all poise and regalness. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you Sokka?” She sauntered closer to him, pressing her chest up against his. He took that as his opportunity to pull her robe closed and bind it tighter.
 Placing a firm grip on her shoulders he replied, “I’d like to make sure you don’t hurt…or embarrass yourself.” He felt terribly conflicted in forcing her back into her room and closing the door, knowing how it would have looked had the owners of the voices turned the corner as he did so. Even if that wasn’t an issue it felt wrong, like he was cornering her. It felt so terribly predatory. He looked longingly at the door. Suki would be all over him for how he was handling things.
 Azula’s robe had come undone again. Having been so lost in thought he wasn’t sure if she’d done it herself or if it had fallen that way. He peered down at her and she stiffened. He noticed for the first time that her head was bleeding. It would seem that he was the only one of the two who did realize it.
 She propped herself up on her arms and thrust her chest up. “Well come here then.” She smirked.
 Sokka’s stomach was growing queasy, all at once he began to loathe the woman on the bed for putting him in such an unbearably uncomfortable situation. He held his ground, back rigid, and face as undaunted as he could manage.
 She crawled towards the edge of the bed, clawing at the bedsheets with more force than necessary. When she reached the very edge she growled, “come on Sokka, don’t youwanna u-use me like ev’ryone else?”  She let body fall back onto the mattress and ran her hand over her chest. He assumed that it was meant to be sensual.
 “Not at all.” Sokka replied, his stomach knotting much tighter than ever.
 She botled up right, her expression changing alarmingly fast. “You you mean I’m not good enough foryou? Oh right. Forgot. I look like hell.” Her laugh had a pitch that sent chills down his spine.
 “That’s not it.” Sokka sputtered quickly. “I mean that I don’t think you really want me to do…” he paused, “to do that.” He was going to throw up, no one has ever put him in such a situation and he didn’t know how to handle it. Without having done anything at all, he still felt like he was somehow taking advantage of her. So he walked into her closet and found something that looked both cozy and elegant, but also easy to put on. It was blue in color with embroidery resembling the lightning he’d seen her use so often, it would clash with the pants she was wearing but he’d never seen her wear blue. That and, of all of the sleep shirts he’d looked at, that one looked the easiest to put on. He removed it from the hanger and came back by Azula. The firebender sat with her head drooping from one side to the other.  He held her as still as he could manage and pulled the shirt over her arms. He carefully buttoned it up and backed away.
 The princess looked like she was about to weep. He tensed up again, fearing that he had overstepped his boundaries. “What’s wrong with me?” She asked. The lump in his throat doubled in size, if he didn’t choke on it, then surly he’d be choking on his words.
Not that he had any words.
 “You haven’t had many people to care for you.” He replied, trying—for the time being—to take responsibility off of her. “That can damage a person.” He couldn’t tell if he was still talking about her, or if he had begun speaking of himself. “Can I care for you?”
 “Can you?” she returned the question.
  With cautious fingers, he brushed her bangs aside. Azula flinched and he drew back. He backtracked, “what happened?”
 Azula raised her fingers to the bleeding bump on her temple. “I-I don’t r’member.” Her eyes dimmed even more.
 “Okay.” Sokka replied. “That’s okay.”
 “No, nod okay.” Azula replied.
 As much as it hurt to hear, it relived him to hear that she was regaining some degree of self-awareness. “Can I clean it for you?” He offered.
 Azula nodded.
 He scanned the room for a glass of water or anything of the sort. Finding none, he told her that he would be right back. He was reluctant to leave her alone, but stepped out of the room anyhow. To his gratitude, she was still in remotely the same position as when he’d left. In that short time, she had taken to laying down.
 He moved her bangs again, causing another start. He decided then, that it was best to be very clear about his intentions. “I’m going to dab it a little,” he informed before bringing the wet cloth to her head. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong. At least a little of what’s wrong?” He asked as he worked.
 It would seem that the cactus juice loosened her tongue more than he anticipated. “I’malone. ‘M always alone. I have no control over anything. I-I can’t stop myself. I can’t stop.” Her speech was growing less connected with each point she tried to deliver. “I’m useless. Always was. ‘Rything I’ve ever done was pointless. I’m pointless…” she was listing so many things and with such a slur that Sokka was having trouble latching onto any one topic. So instead he just listened to her try to disjointed cry for help. He finished cleansing the cut and began dressing it. “Nothin has been a same since Sozin…” another indistinguishable jumble of words. “Sozin’s comet and after that things have been awful. I haven’t been right.” She pointed at her head, naturally at the spot he was trying to tend to. “Stupid. I’m soso…”
 Sokka finished re-applying the bandage she’d moved and nodded, he was pretty certain that he’d got the meaning well enough. He helped her back into a laying position. He hoped that she would acknowledge what she was confessing after she sobered up. Though that would take giving up some pride and she never seemed like the type to trade pride for comfort. “I haven’t been right either.” He didn’t mean to, but he took her hand anyhow. “Not since Suki died.”
*****
Basic summery of the first part of this chapter to the last part;
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bellatrixobsessed1 · 6 years
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I'll Meet You At The Bottom (Part 2)
Azula watched the smoke trail towards the ceiling. Once upon a time, it would have been the product of masterful bending. These days it was nothing more than a tired exhale. She ran her fingers through her hair, it was becoming embarrassingly matted. She stole a look out of the window, the sun was quite high. She had slept late, again. Another puff of smoke slid through the part of her lips. Days like such were the days when she would dwell. Dwell on everything that had gone wrong from start to finish. At first she thought that everything started coming undone the day Mai and TyLee had stabbed her in the back. She decided nexst that it was earlier on; when Zuko had decided to skip off and join the avatar. For a while she had genuinely thought that they had some kind of a bond, as far as that kind of thing went with her. But no, he had left and she was left at the lack of mercy of their father. The third time she mulled it over, she considered that it was even earlier than that. And then earlier, and then earlier still. Until she finally concluded that she had set herself up to fall as a mere child, in sparking the relationship between Mai and Zuko. Yes, she decided, she had doomed herself from the start without taking any notice of doing so. So it was that she discarded her first smoke and lit another.
 She had only just woken up.
 .oOo.
 He had been alone for some time now. Katara and Aang having wandered off to a parade of some sort. Toph stayed behind with Zuko, having no interests in the fireworks that would follow when the sun fell. But she had retreated into the palace for a power nap. Zuko himself was wrapped up in the busywork of a Fire Lord. Sokka had the palace garden all to his lonesome, he figured that such was a good set up for another shot at his landscape portraits. He wanted to recapture his passions, the ones he had before losing Suki and this seemed like a golden time to do just that. But more he tried to do it, the less inspiration he had.
 The scene truly was quite optimal really with the sun just starting to droop and the sky in pastel shades of pink, orange, and purple. From his position tiny rays filtered through gently fluttering leaves. If he watched long enough he would catching a few of them take flight and then softly drift down and into the pond sending a fresh rings about the surface. He should have enjoyed the moment, it was perfect.
It should have been perfect.
 And Agni, did he try to force it to be so. He took his brush to the canvas and told himself that he was having a grade time, that this was going to be the best thing he would paint. He could only force it for so long and the energy he invested in pretending, was leaving him hollower than hours before. His brushstrokes were growing more careless as his boredom rose. Suddenly he hated trees, hated drawing them, hated the sight of them. But he continued working the brush anyhow, only faintly aware that he was doing so. He couldn’t keep his attention on the canvas, even as he stared at it, his mind’s eye had a different visual for him; Suki reaching out, her face contorted in anger and anguish. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he was tired of painting trees and grasses, neither subject did anything to take his mind away from Suki. To keep him from reliving the moment everything began coming in shades of grey. He could clearly see that way her fingers curled around his shirt, her mouth poised in a scream that had yet to be released.
He blinked.
Hard.
Forgetting about the brush in his hand, ran it over his face—leaving an unnoticed trail of black paint from his chin to his hairline. He couldn’t be assed to wipe it away, even if he did, it would only smear. He tore his unfinished piece from the canvas, having every urge to kick it over completely. The impulse only subsided at the sight of Zuko and a party of rather esteemed looking individuals trekking the length of the garden.
 He looked towards the roof and blew out a forced exhale. He took another deep breath, hoping to expel whatever anger had just bubbled up. He needed something, anything to keep him going. He took to studying every spoke and spire of the palace. Maybe he should paint that? It wasn’t a tree and the sun was reflecting quite well in the widows. He peered at the dragons accenting each corner of the tiered roof. Glanced at the golden trim around the window frames and gutters. He dwelled upon what little he could make of the interior from his place outside; a serving girl scrubbing at the window sill, Toph just rising from her nap with a drawn out yawn, Ursa and Iroh engaged in conversation over cups of tea, a young boy—likely the son of one of the staff members—teetering about the room. He opted to leave them out of the painting, they would be too hard to capture. Too frustrating, they were too active.
 He was set to tear his gaze from the palace and retrieve his tools when he came to gaze upon a face he hadn’t seen in ages. It was different, more sullen. More hollow, just about as empty as he felt. She stood at the window sill with her lips pressed in a thin line and her hands clasped behind her back. She stood in the light of the setting sun, but wasn’t taking in any light at all. From such a distance he couldn’t gauge one emotion or another, but whatever expression she was wearing, he couldn’t imagine that it was a pleasant one. He watched her sweep a curtain of thick, dark hair over her shoulder. And with that lazy flick, her back was turned and she was retreating deeper into her bedroom.
 Sokka wondered if she’d noticed him staring.
 .oOo.
 That night was a slight change of pace; from somewhere she’d found a small burst of energy and she supposed she’d make the most of it. Though it took some more preparation, she forced herself down the hallway and into the bathroom. She hadn’t the motivation to beckon one of her servants over so she slipped out of her robe and arranged her own bath. Making small talk would have been tiresome anyhow, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d spoken to anyone aside from herself and those who weren’t actually in the room. At least her smokes seemed to dull them…mostly. When they didn’t, the hallucinations came on stronger than they had been prior. Azula was content to let that detail remain under the carpet.
 The princess scrubbed at her arms. Perhaps a little too hard, she assessed after noticing the pink hue to her skin. She tried to tell herself that she had only been trying to make up for the lack of baths she’d taken. But she couldn’t lie to herself in the same way she lied to others. She wanted to cause herself discomfort, however slight the unease was. The pinker patch stood out noticeably. She held her arm in front of her face—when had she become so pale? She shuddered in spite of herself.
She had undeniably grown pale. Paler and thinner. Azula tried to brush it off but as she continued to drag the soap over her frame the truth made a point of flashing in her face. She took note of a slight dip as she ran the bar over her midsection. Fleetly she thought that she ought to start taking better care of herself again. How could she firebend if she were to become so frail, so breakable? She could very nearly seen each of her ribs. She drew her legs up to her chest, staring at her arms. They had become practically translucent. Alongside a generous meal, the woman decided that the bath she was sitting in wasn’t the only one she needed; she could use a healthy dose of sunbathing. It was only right for a firebender to be out in the heat of a summer afternoon. Before then, she hadn’t noticed any of it and the new insight left her feeling vaguely alarmed.
 Startled, but not enough to get anywhere beyond simply contemplating a change. No, she had enough of change. Somehow, she came to conclude that she’d rather keep on this dangerous path than go through another dramatic transformation. Turning away from that which had rattled her, she wrapped her fingers around a large vial of shampoo and then around one of conditioner. She would have to act quick before the motivation left her. She was more than apprehensive about working with the weeks of knots in her hair. But she did so anyways, conjuring up some visage of the woman who had been willing to face down any obstacle regardless of height or strength. That willingness was slowly dispelling as the knots fought against her.
 Eventually the task became too cumbersome but she continued scrubbing the shampoo into her hair. A task made infinitely more difficult by just how tightly wrought each lock of hair had become to the one next to it. She clenched her teeth, her frustration officially reaching peak levels. Why was it so hard to do something so simple? She needed a drink. Badly. It hadn’t occurred to her just how hard her nails were scratching at her scalp until a few sharp pangs erupted. Shivering lightly, she let her arms fall back into the now dirty water. For a moment she sat rigid, breathing, just breathing. Long and shuddering breaths. But the frustration didn’t subside whatsoever.
Before Azula realized what she was doing, she was on her feet, edging menacingly towards the mirror. With an almost feral snarl, she took a pair of scissors into her grasp. With her chest heaving quite rapidly, she made the first few slashes.
At least, she wouldn’t have to worry about her hair getting matted again.
 Doing nothing to cloth nor cover herself in the slightest, the princess stormed back into her room. That oughta have people talking. With the door shut behind her she doubled over in a burst of uncanny laughter. It was hilarious, she didn’t know why, but it just was. It took some time for the laughing fit to pass and by the time it did the princess was on her back, feeling number than before.
And her chuckles turned to dry sobs.
 Azula absolutely needed something to take the edge off. On all fours she scrambled to her bedside to reach for another light and she hated herself for it.
Agni, she hated herself.
 .oOo.
 The courtyard was dressed in moonlight. All those hours gone by and Sokka only managed the outline of half of the palace. Now it was too dark for him to finish even if he wanted to. He hadn’t the expertise to paint the palace from memory alone. Even so, he decided that he hated painting the palace just as much as the trees in front of it. He groaned to himself. It was all bullshit, it was all bullshit. How had something he loved turned so sour? It took him a moment to realize that it wasn’t about how his old favorite hobby made him feel.
No, it was what it no longer made him feel.
It was the absence of Suki’s hands on his shoulders as he made final touches. The lack of the suggestions she whispered in his ears. The critiques that led to heated arguments that led to the bedroom…
 Sokka gulped and looked back at his canvas. He needed to find a way to enjoy it again. But it seemed like nothing was worth painting these days. He shifted his eyes from the canvas to the palace again. Through the window he could see the silhouettes of Aang and Katara getting ready for bed, Zuko wrapping up his work and blowing his candle out, the servants hustling to ready his bed. The palace was alive and with all the energy it ever had. He then himself inexplicably obliged to give Azula’s window some attention. Maybe he was just curious. Perhaps he was looking to see someone in as much or more distress than he.  Or it could have been that he didn’t expect to see anything at all so it didn’t matter.
 But he did see something. An unfamiliar figure peering through the glass. Her nightgown was disheveled and loosely tied with little interest. Her hair, reaching just below her ears, was fell in a similar state of care. Between her fingers she held an elaborate kiseru, from which rose a lazy trail of smoke.  Sokka wondered who she was and what she was doing in Azula’s bedroom. It took him a considerable span of time to gather that this woman was the princess. Even from such a distance he could tell that her gaze was sharp, even though she was staring at nothing in particular.  
 Sokka considered then, that Azula wasn’t well. Not by any means. He couldn’t place it, but there was something about her sudden alteration in appearance that unsettled him. This only left him more ashamed to admit that his first thought was that he had found a subject to paint.
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