Chapter Text
“I’m just saying,” Sokka says for the third time.
“Being tired isn’t an injury,” Katara groans. “I can’t heal you from being tired.”
“A few hours ago, you claimed you couldn’t heal the Moon,” Sokka retorts. “So I’m just saying we give it a try.” He raises his hands, framing the air. “Just imagine it: a society where no one needs to sleep! Think of the bedrolls that wouldn’t need constant packing and unpacking and packing again, think of the pillows that wouldn’t need fluffing-!”
Katara, still flat on her back, presses her palms against her eyes. “Just go to sleep, Sokka. Master Yagoda said it’d be hours before she's ready for visitors.”
“Waterbenders could be awake when the moon is out,” Sokka continues, ignoring her. “No more sleeping at their best! Look at Zuko: the second the sun is up, he’s awake.”
Zuko considers. “He’s got a point.”
“He does not have a point. You’re just sleep-deprived, too.”
Aang snores in agreement.
“I’m just saying,” Sokka says for the fifth time.
“And I’m saying, if you’re tired, go to sleep. I can’t heal you.”
“Can’t or won’t?” He wonders accusatively.
“Both!” She exclaims, rolling over to press her face into the parka-turned-pillow. “Go to sleep! Or don't, but at least stay quiet so I can!”
Sokka clicks his tongue in disapproval, but obligingly keeps quiet as she curls in on herself. Even as her breaths begin to even out in well-deserved sleep, he stays sitting up, eyes tethered to the door. Zuko mirrors him. He’d been told Uncle is coordinating search and rescue missions for those trapped throughout the city- a time sensitive task even before the blizzard worsened- but he hasn’t actually seen the man since the fight with Zhao. He doubts he’ll be able to fall asleep until he does.
As for Yue, she'd been whisked away to her bedroom the second Zuko and Sokka had stepped into the palace. Her healers were strict about visitors, even smooth-talking visitors that threw words like 'heroes' and 'friends with the Avatar' around. They had been given a room of their own- a thoroughly depleted pantry- but supplies were low enough that only Aang was given a blanket. He hasn't woken up since he accidentally became a murderous ocean spirit, but Master Yugoda had assured them that all he needed was Katara at his side in case he woke. Katara had probably recognized this as a trick to get her her own much-needed rest, but she'd acquiesced anyway, which just showed how tired she really was. Sokka, other than his insomniac concern for Yue, seems alright, too. He'd had only mild burns, scratches, and bruises easily rectified by stubborn, over-protective, almost-fainting sisters.
So now their only task is resting so that they can take over shifts in the morning.
For some reason, after a night of impossible tasks, resting is the one thing Zuko can't seem to manage.
Sokka yawns. Then, to keep himself from giving in to a second yawn, whispers, “How’s your arm?”
Zuko glances down at the bandaged limb. There were too many seriously injured for a full healing, but the cursory work Katara had insisted on- until she'd started going pale again and he'd pulled away- has left it much improved, if a bit stiff and achy. “Better.”
“Good, good.” Sokka bobs his head up and down, then bobs it very quickly up when it seems he’d fallen half-asleep on the way down. He sighs. "Sun up?”
Zuko closes his eyes and resists the temptation to keep them closed. “...almost."
Sokka stands, stretching wide as he does so. “Wanna go watch the sunrise?”
"...Okay."
-----
Although it's been hours since the invasion ended, the halls are still crowded and bustling with activity. Most of the healing is being done here, as any beds not destroyed are occupied by those who need them most. A dozen healers beeline from warrior to warrior, with many more slumped against the wall in an exhausted heap, waiting for the next emergency to arrive. Children and their mothers linger in between the patients, their attention pinned to the door.
As Zuko and Sokka sluggishly make their way out, the doors open before them, and another wave of survivors enter. Master Pakku strides in first, supporting a badly limping, badly burned young man. One of the women lets out a ragged sob and rushes to embrace him. Pakku transfers the boy's weight to her, and a healer races over to assess his condition. A few others follow through the doorway. Some families rush to meet them; others watch the happy reunions with brittle, breaking expressions.
"Tribesman Sokka, Prince Zuko," Pakku greets, approaching the two. He seems uninjured, if thoroughly exhausted. "I’d heard you were alive.”
"Thanks," Sokka replies.
“You should be resting,” the man chides as he appraises them, attention lingering on Zuko’s bandaged shoulder. “I’d thought He- Master Yugoda was quite clear about that.”
“She was,” Sokka assures. “Painfully. Even Katara listened. But we're feeling restless, so we’re gonna go catch the sunrise from the new view.” He frowns forward. "How’s the search going?"
Pakku follows Sokka's gaze back to the survivors. "General Iroh and a few of my best men are finishing up with the Southern portion of the city. Ideally, any Fire Nation survivors will be happy enough to see one of their own that they won't cause this city any more trouble it doesn't need. As for our own…We’ll keep looking until we’ve recovered them all.”
Sokka nods, expression troubled.
Pakku turns back to him. "This victory comes with great loss," he admits, resting a hand on Sokka’s shoulder, "but because of you and your friends, our people survived. The Northern Water Tribe will be stronger for this. I am... grateful, Tribesman Sokka, for your bravery and cunning." His lips quirk. "I only wish you all had been my students longer so that I could take credit."
Sokka blinks up at him, clearly surprised by the sheer, uncharacteristic niceness of that comment.
Zuko decides Pakku is probably sleep-deprived, too.
“...thanks?”
Pakku removes his hand and dismisses, “It’s only the truth.”
“What about after this?” Sokka wonders. “Once the city has been rebuilt? What happens then?”
“You mean, will we aid in the war effort? End our hundred years of isolationism?” When Sokka nods, Pakku’s eyes skim the injured and the mourning. “Something like this either galvanizes men to act, or gives them one more excuse to hide. There are some, I know, that will want to remain neutral despite all of this. They don’t understand that there’s no such thing as neutrality anymore. I’m sorry,” he continues, turning back to Sokka, “but I don’t know. I do hope that they will help.”
“They,” Sokka repeats, brows furrowed.
Pakku smiles thinly. “Regardless of what Arnook decides, I’ve spent enough time in the shadows. I intend to follow in your tribe’s footsteps. To go out into the world, help as best I can however I can. There are pockets of Waterbending communities throughout the world which might benefit from a Master Waterbender. I may even get as far South as your tribe.”
Sokka narrows his eyes. “Purely for war effort-related reasons.”
“Naturally,” Pakku assures with practiced disinterest. When Sokka stares him down, he hems, “I- there are other benefits to doing so, of course.”
“Of course.”
“Reestablishing trade routes, strengthening infrastructures-”
“Stalking Gran Grans?” Sokka presses accusatively.
Pakku frowns, seeming for a moment as if he’ll argue the amorous allegation, then slumps right out of the indignation. Judging by the circles under his eyes, this is probably his longest break since the fighting began. He’s definitely not prepared to argue with Sokka. “I’d like to apologize to her,” he admits, tone low. “I never meant- I should have-” The frown deepens. “It doesn’t matter. But I’d like to apologize. Help. Meet the man she chose to love and... thank him for giving her what I couldn’t.”
“Amazing grandkids?” Sokka guesses.
Pakku purses his lips, unamused or very good at seeming it.
Sokka considers him for a moment, expression oddly shrewd, then nods. “Fine, yes. She’s single.”
Pakku's eyebrow twitches up of its own accord. "...Oh?”
“Unless things have changed dramatically in the last three months,” Sokka confirms. “And, if you promise to be less of a full-time jerk and promise to make up for sixteen years' worth of birthday presents…” He nods. “You can tell her I gave you my blessing to be our new Pop Pop."
"...I don’t need your blessing."
"And yet you have it," Sokka assures magnanimously. "And an entire journey to think up a really good speech, because you’ll definitely need one. You're almost as bad at first impressions as Zuko. Oh, tell her Katara yelled at you in front of everybody. She'll like that."
“...I’ll keep it in mind.” Despite the dry tone, Pakku is clearly more energized than before, and he stands taller as he looks over his shoulder. Zuko wonders if the timetables in his head just moved up a week. “Before I resume the search," he continues, turning to Zuko, "I wanted to give you something. Well-" He slips his hand into his pocket, "give you back something." His palm opens, revealing the white lotus tile.
Zuko blinks, surprised. “Oh.” He takes it, thumb skimming its circumference, smooth ivory except for the rough chipped edge above the third flower petal. “Thank you.”
"I'd say you earned it," Pakku says, kindly if nonsensically.
Zuko doesn't know how someone can earn something they already own, but all old people choose to speak in riddles for some reason, and he’s very tired, so he doesn't bother asking.
----
When they get outside, Zuko pulls his parka tight against the cold and damp. He breathes slow, letting the warmth of his inner fire fill him, then follows Sokka down the palace steps.
Then, finally, he thinks to ask, “Where are we going?"
“The most spiritual place in the entire North Pole,” Sokka answers cheerily, tromping forward.
Zuko snorts, then follows in the younger man's foot deep footsteps. They lead around the palace and past the healing house- directly to a random patch of cliff. As they approach, almost a dozen warriors slink out from the wreckage, their parkas snow white.
“Morning,” Sokka greets, waving. “Just a couple of tourists looking for a nice view. Think you can hook us up?”
The first guard looks between them, gaze lingering predictably on Zuko. He nods once, slow and meaningful, then bends a portion of the cliff back to reveal a corridor that almost definitely didn’t exist the night before. The steps within are steep and narrow and, because Sokka insists on racing, both teens are out of breath and heaving by the time they reach the plateau and another set of guards. Behind them, in the very center of a cavern, is the pond.
Its water is clear, scattered firelight reflecting in the ripples of the ever-orbiting fish. Zuko approaches reverently- perhaps a bit more carefully than he had before one had nearly died and the other had turned into a ten-story titan- then folds down beside its bank. Although she’s healed, the left side of the Moon Spirit is still scarred black. She swims as smoothly as she always has; neither seem bothered by the small imbalance to their symmetry.
"Mind if we get a view?" Sokka asks.
Zuko looks up just in time to see the southern wall disappear. He stands, surprised, then inches towards the newly revealed precipice. They must be halfway up the cliff, he thinks, if not even higher. Any Fire Nation soldiers who tried to break in here would find themselves entombed in ice long before they ever even got a look at the fish. Sokka perches on the very edge, then pats the ground beside him. Zuko accepts the wordless invitation and gingerly eases down. The ice is cold even through layers, but with all his lingering aches, it’s also pleasantly soothing.
He stares down past their dangling legs, eyes skimming the palace and the snow-blanketed city. So far removed from the battlefield and its casualties, it’s almost peaceful. Everything looks smaller from up here. More manageable.
His eyes follow blue dots for a little while, idly wondering whether one or the other might be Uncle, and then they trace the canals through the city and out to the sea. It's still dark, but there's a thin line of lighter blue on the horizon, heralding a beautiful sunrise. The best ones always come after a storm.
For an eternity, they just sit, basking in the starlight and chill, surrounded by a well-worn, comfortable silence.
"Just so you know," Sokka says, breaking it with ease, "you shouldn't jump off of this."
"We’ll see," Zuko hedges, though his most daring impulse right now is sitting very still.
Sokka glances at him. “What was it called, anyway?”
“What?”
“Your dive,” Sokka elaborates, as if it were obvious. “It’s gotta have a name, remember? Them's the rules.”
Zuko blinks at him, puzzled, before suddenly remembering their beach party a lifetime ago. “I didn’t really have time to think of one."
“Hmm. We’ll have to do it retroactively, then. It has to have a name. It’s a thing.”
“It’s not a thing,” Zuko rebuts without any heat.
“How do you feel about school spirit?" Sokka pitches, not bothering to acknowledge the counterpoint. "Like a school of fish? But also a spirit?”
“There was only one fish,” Zuko points out. “Not really a school.”
“There were two total,” Sokka points out right back, pointing to the fish as undeniable proof.
“Do two fish make a school?” It sounds like one of Uncle’s answers-that-are-actually-unhelpful-questions.
Sokka mulls it over for an impressive three seconds before shaking his head. “You’re right. Swordfish, then. You like swords, it likes being a fish.” When Zuko is distinctly not supportive, Sokka launches into a lightning round even Azula would be intimidated by: “The Fin-al Countdown, the Gill Tea Party, Splash-landing-”
“Can’t that just be a practice dive?” Zuko interrupts. “I’ll name the next one.”
“You really think you can top that?”
"I’ll jump off Appa.”
“I explicitly told you not to do that.”
“I already have.”
Sokka huffs out a tired, barely surprised laugh. “Of course you did.”
“Aang told me to.”
“Of course he did.”
Zuko smiles, then ducks his head. “Can I ask you-” He cuts himself off, not sure how to even ask the question that’s suddenly bubbled to the top of his sleep-deprived mind.
“Yes,” says Sokka anyway.
“Before. Back then. In the prison.” Zuko hesitates. His throat feels a little tight. “It didn’t make sense to- it would have been easier to leave me behind. And you- you’re not dumb.” He expects Sokka to preen under the almost-compliment, but the younger boy just waits for him to get his words in order. “It would have been smart to kill me. I kept threatening you. I wasn’t- I wasn’t even subtle about it, I never am, I-” He shakes his head, freeing himself from the tangent. “Why did you help me?” It’s a more abstract question than his words make it out to be, broader in scope than that first, unlikely kindness.
Sokka predictably goes for the easier answer. “I try not to make a habit of killing my friends unless I really have to.”
“We weren’t friends then,” Zuko argues, which is technically admitting that they are now, but he’s pretty sure Sokka has worked that one out.
“Sure we were,” Sokka dismisses. “You just didn’t know it yet.”
“Sokka.”
“Well, why didn’t you kill me?” He shoots back. “You had your chances, too, pal, and you squandered them.” Zuko snorts and Sokka smiles, gratified, before looking back down over the cliff. “Look. I’d love to say it was this amazing and complicated plan to make you best friends with a fish, but the truth is-” His fingers tangle together nervously, but his voice is resolute. “I just thought you deserved better.”
Zuko swallows. He doesn’t know how to reply to that answer. He doesn’t even know if he believes it. He doesn’t know how to think about his life up until this point. When he tries, he runs into a wall of loud, quiet static in his mind, memories and thoughts that are easier to overlook than process. He knows he loves his father, and he knows he’d die to stop his father. He knows he wants his father to love him, and he's starting to believe his father has never really loved anyone. He might never be able to grapple with it all, or it might seem impossibly easy after one good nap.
For now, Sokka’s answer is enough. Maybe he’ll never have a place in the Fire Nation again, but he has a place here, next to a friend who’s seen him at his worst and helped him be his best, one who’d accepted him at every awkward, shout-y stage in between.
And maybe there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.
A cold breeze rolls over them, chillier for the altitude, and Sokka shivers as he draws his parka tighter. Zuko hesitates for the barest moment before shifting over, pressing his shoulder against Sokka’s. Then he closes his eyes, breathes in deep, and radiates heat.
“Ahh,” Sokka sighs, melting. “I love Firebending.”
Zuko smiles.
-----
"May I join you?"
Zuko glances back from the horizon, then leaps to his feet as he sees who's climbing up the final step. "Uncle!" He bolts forward, wrapping him in a tight hug. "You're alright!"
While clearly surprised by the assault, the older man returns the embrace just as fiercely. "I am." He pulls back a little, eyes snagging on the bandages. "Master Pakku informed me that you were injured."
"Barely," Zuko dismisses. "Zhao got lucky." He hesitates, suddenly unsure whether the words are true. Zhao has always hated him, and Zuko isn't exactly a fan- especially after what he put Uncle and Sokka and the whole North Tribe through- but he never wanted the man dead. He just... wanted him to be less awful, is all. "Is he...?"
"He is alive," Uncle answers, not sounding very happy about it. "But well-guarded. He will not hurt you."
"Are you serious?" Sokka demands. "I thought you killed him! If not you, the Moon Spirit or the Facial Hair Police. Don't tell me he actually surrendered?"
"It was critical I capture him alive," Uncle explains patiently. "He has...information."
"You're a General and the Fire Lord's big brother," Sokka counters, unimpressed. "What information does Major Muttonchop have that you couldn't get yourself?"
"Where to find hidden Spirits." He lets this sit for a moment, then gravely continues, "I did not know the Moon and Ocean Spirits were here. There was no reason he should have known this. He knew anyway." He tucks his hands into his sleeves, and his eyes slip to the horizon. "Admiral Zhao has uncovered a source of spiritual knowledge unknown to me or Master Pakku. Our hope is that he will share his source."
"Okay," Sokka admits, shifting, "I'll grant you the war effort could benefit from some intelligence. We're lacking. But I really don't see Zhao wanting to be helpful.”
"If there is only one thing one must know about Admiral Zhao," Uncle says, half-amused, "it is that he enjoys talking, especially when he believes himself to be in a superior position. He does not always realize how much he says." When Sokka seems reluctantly appeased by this, Uncle turns to Zuko. His brows furrow as he continues, much softer, "You did well tonight, Nephew, and saved many lives. Believe me when I say that I am so, so proud. But- the risk you took-" He falters, wordless, then tries again. "I understand you wished to save the fleet, Prince Zuko, but I fear you did not truly grasp the weight of your choice. What could have happened. "
“Don't worry,” Sokka butts in. “He definitely understood the gravity of the situation.”
Uncle purses his lips in unamused disapproval, but the expression softens when Zuko laughs.
“I’m sorry, Uncle,” Zuko says, trying not to snicker in the middle of his apology. “I know you wouldn't have approved, but I didn't see any other way to save them. Besides, I already promised Sokka I wouldn't do it again.”
“Then keep to that promise,” Uncle orders gently. “I am not as young as I once was, and doubt I can survive many more of your deaths.”
“I know how you feel,” Sokka assures, noodling an arm around his shoulder in commiseration. “I’m a much older older brother than I was a week ago.”
Uncle considers this, then nods. “...he has that effect.”
“I got you something,” Zuko says, hoping to turn the conversation. He can't afford to let Uncle and Sokka join forces. “I mean- I was going to get you something when Zhao found me- I don’t think you would have liked it anyway, you have hats- but then I went to this shop for this old tea set, and I know you already have a tea set, too, but-” He falters. “Sokka made me. Anyway, I didn't get you that and the lady was weird, but- she had tiles.” He shoves out his hand. “I would’ve given it to you sooner,” he adds defensively, “but Pakku stole it.”
As Uncle reaches out for the tile, Sokka frowns. “You were going to buy him a hat? ”
“It gets sunny on the shipdeck,” Zuko replies shortly.
“You like the sun. The sun is your god. ”
“It’s still bright,” he shoots back, scowling.
“The White Lotus tile,” Uncle breathes. He looks up at Zuko, smile soft and happy and proud. "He gave it back to you."
Zuko would like to think contemptuous thoughts about how weird his Uncle is, but he only really succeeds in blushing, pride flaring in his chest at the sheer joy this stupid gift had brought the man. “Took long enough," he grumbles gruffly. Then, just to be sure, "You like it?”
“Very, very much.” He pauses, thinking. “But perhaps you could give an old man one more gift.”
“...I didn’t get the tea set.”
“I know,” he assures. He reaches out, gently pressing the tile back into Zuko’s palm. “Keep it.”
Zuko frowns. Had he not actually liked it? “It’s for you, Uncle," he insists. "I- I threw yours away. I owe you.”
“You owe me nothing,” Uncle counters, closing Zuko’s fingers around the tile. “And this is yours. It would bring me great joy to play with you one day.”
Zuko nods slowly, feeling somehow as if he’s agreeing to more than a few lousy games of Pai Sho. “Alright, Uncle,” he relents, and the old man beams. Zuko’s attention slips to the honeygold horizon. “...We were going to watch the sunrise,” he says hesitantly, feeling only a little stupid about it. “Do you want to sit with us?"
Uncle smiles. “I would like nothing more.”
-----
Zuko hears Aang and Katara before he sees them. Their voices echo up through the stairwell, Aang's apologies for waking her- he'd barely touched the ground!- and her assurances that Momo had been to blame. Still, as they step into the cavern, Zuko feels a surge of relief at seeing Aang up and about. The boy grins at him, bright-eyed and alive, and Zuko is only a little surprised to find himself smiling back.
"You woke with the sun," he observes.
"I hope the sun takes a nap soon," Aang replies, plopping down on the edge of the cliff. He sits forward to take in the view, nearly blinding now as sunlight scatters across the frozen white of the city. Zuko is amused to note that Uncle, despite his general unflappableness, is clearly a little on edge about this on-the-edge child.
Zuko sympathizes. It takes time to get used to Airbenders.
“Did you happen to see Master Yugoda?” Sokka wonders, blinking over Katara’s shoulder.
His sister smiles knowingly. “Sure did. She and Pakku threatened to freeze me in a block of ice if I tried helping. Yue’s still asleep, but Master Yugoda promised she’d send someone up to tell us the second she’s well enough for visitors.”
“Okay,” Sokka sighs, hanging his head.
Zuko pats his back in awkward comfort before glancing at Aang. “What about you?”
Aang blinks. “Me?”
“Are you- you know, are you okay?” He falters, feeling dumb. “Obviously you are, you’re here and not dead-”
“I’m okay,” Aang interrupts, smiling. He cocks his head. “Although I do feel kinda weird. And exhausted. Plus everything from last night is a little fuzzy.” His stomach rumbles loudly, and he pats it with a half-embarrassed grin. “And I’m starving.”
“I can help with that,” Uncle says, pulling himself to his feet. “I think we would all benefit from a warm meal.” He chuckles. “At least, I know I would!”
Zuko watches him go, half-tempted to invite himself along but too tired to even contemplate those stairs.
“What about you?” Aang asks, eyes lingering on Zuko’s bandages.
“Zuko got beaten up by everyone in the North Pole,” Sokka reveals, “and then he ripped his own arm off.”
Aang blinks, suddenly much more concerned.
“That’s not-” Zuko sags. “That isn’t what happened. Exactly.”
“Let me see your shoulder,” Katara orders, squatting down beside him.
Zuko rolls his eyes, frustrated. She should be saving her energy for people who actually need it. She’s clearly still exhausted, and Master Yugoda had literally threatened her to rest. “I told you, I’m fine.”
“Then I’m sure you won’t mind if I take a peek,” she answers primly, stealing some ice from the wall to bend around her hands in glowing blue.
“Just take her up on it,” Sokka recommends. “You can always get stabbed again if you feel like it.”
Zuko opens his mouth to argue, then slumps. It’s really not worth it. No matter what he says, they’re still going to try and help. It’s just who they are. “Fine.”
Katara grins.
----
Rather than some messenger, it's Yue herself who enters next. She's wrapped in furs but still abnormally pale, out of breath and trembling as she climbs the final step. Zuko wonders why she had bothered the trip when she's so plainly exhausted, but he gets his answer in the way her face lights up the moment she spots Sokka.
Sokka is on his feet and across the cavern before she can even say good morning.
"Yue!" He exclaims, wrapping her in a tight hug. She holds him just as tightly, her fingers curling into the fabric of his parka. The guards politely busy themselves with a very interesting patch of floor. “Are you alright?" Sokka asks, pulling back. "What did Master Yugoda say? You're shivering- take my parka-" He begins shedding it even as he wonders, "Why did you walk all this way? I would have-”
“I’m alright,” she interrupts, smiling up at him indulgently. It stretches laugh-lines she hadn't had the morning before. She lays her hands over his, stilling the anxious if gentlemanly stripping. "I needed fresh air, and I wanted to check on the spirits. Besides, I'm told I had a rather persistent well-wisher."
"I-" He shrugs a little, oddly embarrassed. "I was worried."
"I was worried about you, too," she promises, pulling the parka back up to cover his shoulders. "But I'm okay."
He swallows, then meets her eyes. "...Are you?"
"I am," she assures, smile dimming. "Just... a little older."
“...permanently?” Aang clarifies, frowning.
“Everyone grows up eventually,” Yue says wryly, turning to face him. “I’ve always been a fast learner.”
Katara frowns away, guilt staining her features. “I’m so sorry, Yue. If I had just-”
"No." Yue shakes her head. “I may have less time than I did yesterday, but I have years more than I did this morning. You did that. Both of you. You saved my life, and my people, and our future." She looks past them, pale eyes following an albatross dove. "For the second time in my life, the spirits have given me a another chance. I'm not going to waste it."
"If you want…” Sokka coughs into his fist, clearly working up some nerve, “Appa has a big saddle."
She glances back at him, amused. "Are you inviting me to see the world, Tribesman Sokka?"
"It'd look better with you in it," he answers, apparently now with nerve enough to waggle his eyebrows.
She huffs out a surprised, happy laugh, then frowns down at her hands, running a thumb over the indefinably different skin. "I wish that I could."
"You can," he insists, striding forward to take her hands in his own. "You changed your destiny once today. Why not kick Hahn to the curb and officially join the Gaang? Zuko's got his membership card!"
She glances at Zuko. "You're going with them?" When he nods, she smiles. "I'm glad. Sokka hoped you would."
Zuko blushes a little, as always caught off guard by her straightforward sincerity, but Sokka frowns. "You know, call me detective of the year, but I can't help notice you're not jumping up and down shouting let's go."
"I’m sorry," she says. "But I have duties here."
"You just saved the North Pole!" He retorts, pulling his hands away to gesture at the nearly-but-undeniably-not-conquered city. "You saved all of Waterbending! I say that earns you a day off!"
"Our city was nearly destroyed, Sokka," she says. "I can't leave now. And I know that through the chaos of this crisis, I will learn invaluable lessons to help my people grow strong again."
He flushes, frustrated. "But Hahn-"
"Fled the battle," she finishes for him steadily. "Hid. Proved himself incapable of being Chief."
Sokka furrows his brow, not understanding. "But- then-?"
"You?" Katara breathes out, eyes wide, figuring it out before Zuko even notices there’s a mystery. When Yue only smiles, half-amused and clearly watching for their reaction, Katara bolts forward to hug her. "That's amazing, Yue! But-" She pulls back. "What about all the stupid rules?"
"I find I'm suddenly too old to care about other people's rules," Yue answers primly. "I spoke to my Father, reminded him that he still has a city and a daughter in spite of traditions, not because of them. The Northern Watertribe is already rebuilding. I'm going to help build it back better."
Sokka takes his turn embracing her, clearly delighted by the news if still reeling from it, and when they withdraw, she's beaming.
"Congratulations, Yue," Aang says, beaming, too. "You'll be a great Chief."
"Please," Sokka dismisses, recovering to the point of obnoxiousness. "She'll be the greatest Chief. Wait, should we be addressing you as Chief or Princess or Chief Princess?"
"You can address me as anything," she replies, smiling, "as long as you write plenty of letters." His enthusiasm fizzles at the reminder that they'll be parting ways, and she squeezes his hand. "I'll be writing back," she reminds him. "Until I run out of paper."
"Well," he drawls, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, "write me when your supply gets low. I'll bring you more right away."
Her eyes flash with good humor. "Then I'll write with very large letters."
"And I'll bring impractically small sheets of paper," he assures, leering.
“Can you do this later?” Katara wonders flatly. “When younger sisters aren’t around to gag?”
“Or younger brothers,” Aang adds, pointing at Zuko.
Zuko blinks at him, startled and a little betrayed. “You’re younger than all of us!”
“I’m older than all of you, too,” Aang dismisses, straightening his collar. “And frankly, you whippersnappers should really respect your elders better!”
Katara laughs and Aang beams at the reaction. Zuko decides he's more amused than annoyed.
"Can't you just take a little time off?" Sokka presses Yue hopefully, ignoring the rest of the Gaang. "A mini vacation. In and out. Twenty minute adventure!"
"Sokka-"
"I bet you've never even gone swimming without getting frostbite," he insists, "or had a frosty guava juice! You've never even had seal jerky-!"
"I wish that I could go with you," she promises, resting a hand on his shoulder. "But we both know I'm going to be held to a higher standard than any other chief in our history. I can't leave now, not when they need me." She scans his face. "Maybe one day, we can go South. Help reestablish the connections we never should have lost. But for now, how about I focus on saving my tribe, and you focus on saving the world?"
“That sounds good,” he agrees unconvincingly, slumping against her. He quickly jerks back, sniffing the air. “Wait, does anyone else smell-”
“Breakfast!” Uncle announces, carrying a platter of food and tea. “I had to get a little creative,” he reveals sheepishly, setting it on the ground. “Much of the kitchen was destroyed, and there weren't very many spices-"
"As long as it's edible, you're my new favorite person," Sokka assures before snagging a bowl and happily slurping up the bland congee. “Hm, maybe top ten. Oh, hey,” he continues, mouth full, “did anyone else think the Moon Spirit smelled amazing ?”
"That's disgusting," Yue chides fondly, giggling. "Not to mention sacrilegious.”
“Sacrilicious,” he corrects, waggling his eyebrows. He swallows another gulp of gruel. "And it’s a compliment, not a suggestion. Trust me, I don't want Aang getting all glowy-around-the-gills and beating me up.”
“Glowy-around-the-gills?” Aang echoes, confused. Everyone stares at him, and he rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. "I know I was there for it, but I really don't remember much of what happened. Just flashes. Or hallucinations, maybe, because I'm pretty sure I saw Zuko cliff-diving to introduce himself?"
"He does that," Sokka says. "It's a thing. But that comes later. Our story begins... at the beginning..." His voice shifts lower, overly dramatic. "The sea was angry that day, my friends!”
As Sokka tears off into a wildly edited rendition of the night's events, Zuko finishes every last bite of his meal. Then, warm and full and exhausted, he leans back against the ice. The horror of the night’s battle feels far away as his friends and his family share sunrise and stories, two worlds he'd feared clashing somehow melding together as easily as Sokka's watercolors. Unlike Sokka's watercolors, it's not half bad. His eyes drift shut as Sokka's voice carries on and on, and he's asleep before the story is halfway through.
It's alright. He’s pretty sure it’ll have a happy ending.
----
For the next two weeks, the North Pole recovers. Thanks to Waterbending, the injured are healed quickly and the buildings are remade almost as fast. Some things can't be fixed so easily, but the dead are put to rest in a series of somber ceremonies. As an added complication, there are almost fifty prisoners of war, some of whom aren't even Fire Nation, just Earth Kingdom kids Zhao had threatened into service. As much as everyone wants them out of the city, no one wants to add more enemies to the pile, so they mostly just sit around, like Zuko had. Zuko advocates as best he can for them, and people listen.
The rest of life, weirdly, is less complicated. Almost easy. He lets himself laugh at Sokka's bad jokes, bats away the conjoined efforts of Katara and Uncle to ensure he eats enough, and smiles when Aang shows off his latest Waterbending moves. Uncle is always suitably impressed, though his apparent friendship with a Master Waterbender probably means he's seen it all before.
Katara quickly becomes a Waterbending Master in her own right, a fast learner made faster through discipline and sheer determination. Pakku tells her he’s never had a better student. Aang doesn’t take it personally.
Yue spends most of her time in council meetings, helping her father manage the tribe's recovery and officially learning the ropes. Sokka attends every one. When he speaks for his tribe, Zuko can't help but hear the Chief he'll be one day. He thinks that the Southern Watertribe is lucky to have him, even if they don't know it yet.
It's like living in a weird, happy dream, where things just make sense.
And then the two weeks end, and Master Pakku says that Katara can finish Aang’s training.
And it’s time for them to leave.
------
“So where do we go?” Aang wonders, smoothing out the map between their assorted snacks. “It has to be someplace with Earthbenders, and it has to be someplace fun." He taps his chin thoughtfully, then brightens. "I know! The Misty Palms Oasis!" He turns to Katara with a blinding grin. "You'll love it, Katara! It's this huge block of ice right in the middle of the desert! It's amazing!"
“Perhaps less so now than when you last visited,” Uncle notes gently, and Aang’s face falls.
“Oh.” He frowns back at the map. “...Good to know.”
“Maybe we could go to Ba Sing Se,” Katara says, tone determinedly cheery as she taps at the large city. “They’re bound to have some amazing Earthbenders there.”
“And we know we’d be safe from the Fire Nation,” Sokka concurs with an approving nod. “Their impenetrable wall has to be more impenetrable than the North Pole's impenetrable wall."
“Uncle might be recognized,” Zuko protests.
“I doubt anyone would recognize me as the man I was then," Uncle says thoughtfully. "But, still, I do not recommend Ba Sing Se. I am afraid their government is run by a puppet monarchy."
Aang blinks. “...Puppets?”
“Not the kind you’re thinking of,” Zuko says, feeling somehow as if they’ve had this conversation before.
“Earthbending is about discipline,” Uncle explains, meeting Aang’s eyes. “But freedom, individualism, sheer stubborn natures- these things are pivotal to Earthbending. You will not find them easily in a city like Ba Sing Se."
Aang deflates, then quickly reinflates. He slaps his forehead. “Of course! I know where we can go! Omashu! Bumi could teach me! I bet he’d be a great teacher!”
"I'm not going to any parent teacher conferences with that guy," Sokka declares, crossing his arms firmly.
Uncle hums, shifting backwards. “...I would not recommend Omashu, either.”
Aang groans. “What? Again? Why?”
“When I was aboard Zhao’s ships," Uncle answers, "I learned the city was surrendered to the Fire Nation.”
“What!” Aang leaps to his feet, determined. “Then we're definitely going! I have to help him!”
Uncle shakes his head. “He surrendered, Avatar Aang. Without a fight, to an army no larger than any other Omashu has easily defeated. It is clear that the city's surrender, even his own capture, was his intention.”
“...he wanted to get caught?” Katara wonders doubtfully.
“The guy introduced himself by holding us hostage,” Sokka points out. “I'm not surprised, and I'm honestly not all that inspired to help. Although I could add him to my royals collection...”
Aang frowns, ignoring the siblings. “Why would he want to get caught?”
“I do not always understand the King’s choices,” Uncle admits, “but I have never had cause to doubt him. I trust he knows what he is doing.”
Aang nods, though he still seems troubled. Unsure how else to help, Zuko offers up the remainder of his dried seaweed snacks. The Airbender takes the bowl with a small smile.
Sokka leans forward. “If Bumi is busy annoying some poor Fire Nation warden and Ba Sing Se is a marionette show, where do you suggest we go?”
Uncle shrugs.
“...we’re just going to have to look,” Katara says. “Aang will find the teacher that’s right for him. Until then, he'll work on the other elements. Besides, we've got months before Sozin's Comet arrives."
“Only you could find the silver lining in an imminent countdown to global destruction,” Sokka groans.
"And only you could ignore all the progress we've made," she counters. "Aang's already well on his way to mastering Waterbending and Firebending. We even have a Fire Nation General on our side!"
“Though not necessarily one in good standing," Uncle notes. "There is a good chance there are survivors of the siege who could inform my brother of my recent…”
“Treason?” Sokka offers amiably.
“Differing goals,” Uncle finishes diplomatically.
Katara rolls her eyes. “Are you guys trying to be pessimistic?”
“Someone has to counteract your universe-tempting optimism,” Sokka replies good-naturedly. “You’re basically begging the Universe to change its mind and mess everything up for us. And this is coming from the guy who doesn’t even think the universe has opinions!”
“My point," Katara concludes firmly, "is that we’re doing a lot better than we ever could have expected. We have time to look for a new teacher without stressing ourselves out about it.”
“...perhaps,” says Uncle, stroking his beard, “time for a spa?”
“A spa?” Aang and Sokka repeat, wearing very different expressions.
“There is one not far from here,” Uncle says with a nod. “Staying there even a week would allow me the chance to reconnect with old friends who may know of Earthbending teachers- and find whether I still have my brother's favor. It would also provide us with the ideal weather for beginning Firebenders.”
Sokka taps his chin. "We do have a lot of Fire Nation armor we could use to disguise ourselves while we're out and about. If you're still on the Fire Lord's good side, that could make things a lot easier. We could just sail into the Fire Nation when we attack." He fixes Uncle with a severe look. "I'm sorry that I have to play the hard-boiled skeptic every time, but I have a few questions before we just follow you into what might be a terrible idea." His eyes narrow. "...Do they have massages?”
“They heat the stones themselves," Uncle reveals, waggling his eyebrows.
Sokka nods decisively. "I vote we go with General Uncle's idea. And since Zuko is obviously going to vote with his Uncle, and this is a democracy, that's three-against-two, so let's go already. I've got callouses with callouses, and this weird kink in my back that's either from sleeping on rocks for three months straight or from sleeping on an actual bed the last few weeks instead of rocks. Do they have a barber? I don't trust Zuko due to... personal reasons. Also what's their seal jerky situation like?"
Katara rolls her eyes at the monologue, but doesn't outright veto the idea. Zuko knows that with Uncle framing it as a way to get Aang training, everyone will have a way to rationalize a few days of rest and relaxation. Frankly, he just likes the idea of leaving snow behind.
“Is there a town nearby?" He asks, leaning forward to scan the map. "I need to do some shopping."
"Hat?" Sokka guesses blandly.
"A knife,” Zuko retorts snappishly, before glancing guiltily to Uncle. “I’m sorry, Uncle. I lost the one you gave me.’”
“That knife,” Uncle says, “was a poor choice for you. It has never been in your nature to give up; you did not need a reminder."
“Yeah,” Sokka agrees. “What he really needs is a knife that says ‘please sit down.’”
----
They leave the same morning Master Pakku's ship departs, and Katara insists everyone wake up early to see the crew off. When Master Yugoda heard a ship was heading South, she'd promoted Kori to head of the Healing House and begun packing her bags. Now, side by side with Pakku, she smiles as Katara bows deep.
"I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve taught me," Katara says as she straightens, very nearly close to tears.
“You just did,” Master Pakku dismisses.
"You did this city more credit than we could ever do you," Master Yugoda adds, smiling.
"We really should be going," Master Pakku says, glancing over his shoulder.
"Someone sounds eager," Katara says, amused, before ignoring all pretenses of pomp and wrapping the old man in a tight hug. "Will you tell her we miss her? Oh, and bring lots of fabric and leather. We were running low even before Sokka and I left, and he didn't have time to hunt much before. Oh, and honey! She always loved when traders brought honey when we were kids, and they haven't been by in years."
"Don't forget to mention we saved the whole North Pole," Sokka adds, resting against Appa. "And the moon."
"Yes, yes," Pakku says, prying himself out of her hold and watching as she tackles Master Yugoda. "I won't forget."
"Have a safe trip, old friend," Uncle says, bowing. "And good luck."
"You're the one who needs luck," Pakku assures dryly. "I'd choose sailing through Fire Nation infested waters over chaperoning Team Avatar any day."
"Gaang," Sokka corrects haughtily. "We're the Gaang."
Aang, half-asleep again and possibly under the impression someone has just said his name, straightens. "Thanks for everything, Master Pakku," he chirps.
Pakku rolls his eyes, then taps Yugoda on the shoulder. "We really must be going, Master Yugoda. The stars-"
"Yes, yes," she says, retracting from the embrace. "We need a good heading. This is my first time outside of the North, you know; you'd better not rush me the entire way." She winks at Katara, then picks up her bag and boards the ship.
Pakku begins to follow, then hesitates. He turns back to Katara, then bows his head. "Safe travels, Master Katara."
"You, too, Master Pakku," she says with a quiet smile, bowing her own.
“Good luck, Pop Pop!” Sokka bellows after him.
“The mere fact that you’re calling him ‘Pop Pop’ tells me luck isn’t on his side,” Katara snorts as she walks back to Appa.
“Do you really think your Grandmother will be happy to see him?” Zuko wonders.
Sokka wiggles his hand in a so-so gesture.
“She did keep his necklace all these years,” Katara points out. “And he isn’t all that terrible once you get to know him. Only mostly terrible.” She turns to Sokka, eyes soft. "...Did you want to say goodbye to Yue?"
He shakes his head, fingers curling around a small, immaculately carved boomerang. "We already did the goodbye thing."
"Don't worry, Sokka," Aang says, leaping up onto Appa's head. "We'll be back as soon as we've saved the world."
"I do appreciate the added motivation," Sokka sighs, climbing up into the saddle.
"What," Katara scoffs, "the world wasn't enough?"
"What's the world done for me lately?" Sokka counters, then screeches as Momo leaps onto his head. "Okay, okay! Universe, I give! Uncle! I cry Uncle!"
Zuko glances back at Uncle, but the man is just laughing, not responding to the summons. Zuko smiles a little, chest warming despite the screams, and then he climbs aboard.
"Yip yip!" Aang yells, snapping the reins. Then, with one final yahoo, he flies them up into the cold morning air, leaving the North Pole behind.
----
“Um," Sokka says, one week later, "are we expecting any more defectors?”
Zuko frowns up from his most recent attempt at tea. “What?”
“There’s a Fire Nation ship,” Sokka says, ducking below the window and squinting over its sill. “A big, sharp, evil-looking one. Aren’t we in the Earth Kingdom?”
“Since when does the Fire Nation care about borders?” Katara counters, crouching down beside him. She frowns. "...They don't seem like they're here to attack."
“They could be here to have a spa day,” Sokka suggests optimistically. “Maybe they realized not all face masks are skull-shaped and metal.”
“After everything that happened in the North Pole, they probably need to relax,” Aang agrees reasonably, peeking over Sokka’s head. Momo perches on his head, curious to know what's got everyone's attention.
“Could they know we’re here?” Katara wonders slightly more reasonably.
“Ozai has eyes in many places,” Uncle says, sipping slowly, his expression troubled. Zuko can't quite tell if it's because of the ship or the tea. “Though I have been here before and trust the staff implicitly, I cannot speak for its other clients.”
“Figures,” Sokka grumbles, sliding down into a disappointed sprawl. “The second we go somewhere fun, we have to leave. I haven’t even sent Yue my reply!”
“We’ll find you a hawk,” Zuko promises, standing. “But if the Fire Nation knows we're here, we need to leave. Immediately. ”
“Uh, guys?" Aang points, bringing their attention back to the window. "Someone's coming."
Zuko frowns, joining them at the window. The figure is at the bottom of the steps to their cabin, dressed in incriminating Fire Nation red. He remembers to drop down just as they peek up. It was probably too late. Well, since they've seen him already... “I’m going to talk to them,” he decides.
“What if it’s a trap?” Katara asks worriedly. “Or if they attack?”
“Katara is right,” Sokka says with a sharp nod. “We need a codeword. I vote, ‘Oh, no! It’s a trap! I’m being attacked!”
Katara rolls her eyes, but Zuko nods. He stands, smooths out the wrinkles of his tunic, and steps through the door.
The figure slows as he reveals himself, then resumes its pace. Not hurried, not slow. Casual. No. Not casual. Meticulously casual.
Azula.
She’s grown since he saw her last. He should have expected it, but he’d still inexplicably imagined her as the precocious eleven-year-old she’d been. She almost looks like an adult now, the last of her baby fat dissolved into hardened muscle and every hair exactly in place.
He closes the door behind him and the gap between them, mildly gratified to see he's still taller than her.
“Zuko,” she says as he draws near, and then she smiles. It almost looks as if it reaches her eyes. “It’s good to see you.”
"It’s good to see you, too," he says honestly. Then, curiously, “How did you find me?”
“I looked.” She considers him, then her gaze flickers to the cottage over his shoulder. “A little beneath you, isn’t it?”
“I’ve lived in worse places.”
“Then you’ll be happy to know why I’m here.” She pauses for the briefest of moments and then says, too gently to be sincere, “I’m here to bring you home, Zuko.”
“Home.”
“Father has had a change of heart," she informs him, brushing past his shoulder towards the doorway, each step slow and carefully measured. Testing to see if he’ll stop her, maybe, if he has something to hide. He carefully doesn't react. "Family is suddenly very important to him.”
Zuko watches as she stops several steps ahead. “Is that so?”
“They’re the only ones you can really trust.” She turns away from the cottage, smiling down at him, and light glints off of her armor like a second sun. “Father forgives you, Zuko. He wants you at his side, where you belong. Where you’ve always belonged.”
Zuko doesn’t reply, torn between amusement and heartache. A month ago, he thinks he might have believed her.
“Did you hear what I said?” She demands at his silence, gentle tone turning clipped. “You should be happy. Excited. Grateful. I just gave you great news.”
Zuko swallows. His mouth is so dry he feels as if his tongue might crumble away. “...after all this time, why did he change his mind?”
“There are rumors of plans to overthrow him,” she reveals. “Treacherous plots hatched by disloyal cowards and ambitious fools. It’s made him realize the value of loyal sons.” She searches for something in his face, and doesn’t seem to find it. Her eyes narrow. “He needs you, Zuko. Your nation needs you.” He doesn’t reply, and she marches back down. From the step above him, they’re nearly the same height. “When he heard you were dead,” she continues, “he regretted your banishment. He mourned for his son, and now he wants him back.” Despite the act she’s putting on, she can’t quite resist a smirk and some casual cruelty. “Unlike Uncle, he can make that happen.”
Zuko doesn’t react to the barb. “Did you?” He wonders, needing to know.
“Excuse me?”
“Did you mourn? Did you think I was dead?”
Her expression flickers, and then it’s illegible. “Of course I mourned,” she says flatly. She glances away from him, examines her fingernails. “I don’t know why I bothered. I should have guessed you were faking.”
“I wasn’t faking,” he feels the need to point out. “Zhao captured me and spread those rumors.”
“And now he and his rumors are dead, and you aren’t.” There’s a small air of approval in her tone.
“And Father wants me home,” he finishes for her. “Because he regrets what he did. Because he needs me. Because he loves me.”
She nods instead of bursting into laughter. He’s mildly impressed.
“And you came yourself, to tell me.”
“I felt the task called for a familial touch,” she confirms, almost wryly.
Zuko turns away from her to consider the distant horizon. The sea that touches the sky is nearly the same color of blue, and the clouds that linger in the purgatory between are formless and abstract. There’s no telling what they might be, given time or imagination. “I need time to think about this, Azula.”
“Think.” Her tone is acidic.
“It’s been a long three years,” he explains, turning back to her. “This is big news. Good news,” he adds, when she frowns, “but unexpected. I... need time to process. And pack.”
She relaxes ever so slightly. He hadn’t noticed her tense. “Of course,” she says generously. “But don’t take too much of it. The sooner you’re ready, the sooner you’re home. And Father is anxious to see you.”
“I’m sure,” he says, almost amused.
She arches a brow, but doesn’t question him. As she begins to walk past him, he catches her forearm. She instantly stiffens under his touch.
“I really am happy to see you, Azula,” he tells her. “I’ve missed you.”
She stares straight ahead, and he can nearly hear the cogs in her head turning. “Of course you did, Dum Dum,” she says finally. “All you had for company was Uncle.” She glances back at him, eyes keen. “Tell me, is that old fuddyduddy around?”
If she knows Zuko is here, she definitely knows Uncle is, too. She might even know they're here with a motley crew of teenagers, though Aang has been good about covering up his tattoos and Appa is as good about remaining out of sight as a giant flying bison can be. Still, he can't afford her going into that cottage and finding them. “Probably getting another massage," he lies.
He's not entirely sure she’s bought it, but she looks more amused than suspicious. “Fine. I’m sure he’ll turn up soon enough, and we can have a proper family reunion. Minus Mother, of course. Don’t be long,” she adds as she marches down the steps. “I’ve got better places to be than waiting on the prodigal son.”
“I’ll be there!” he calls after her. He waits until she’s out of sight to return to the cottage. Predictably, a totem pole of eavesdroppers collapse back onto the scuffed wood. Sokka rubs at his elbow miserably as Aang bounces effortlessly back up to his feet.
“That was your sister?” He smiles. “She seems nice!”
“She seems like she’s up to something,” Katara corrects, frowning at the door.
“I doubt my brother truly sent her with such noble intentions,” Uncle agrees, stroking his beard.
“It’s Azula,” Zuko says as he gathers his meager belongings. “Of course she’s lying.”
“...and so you’re packing to run away?” Sokka clarifies hopefully. “Because this is such an obvious kidnapping I feel genuinely offended. I put effort into kidnapping you.”
Zuko shakes his head as he pulls tight the drawstrings. “No. I’m going with her.”
Sokka sighs. “Buddy, you’re doing that thing where you almost think things through and then don’t pass the finish line.”
Zuko pauses for a moment. He thinks of Azula running beside him on Ember Island beaches, laughing in the late afternoon sun as she cheated her way into winning the latest pointless race. He thinks of her cruel pranks and her sharp smirks and her rare smiles. He thinks of how she used to stiffen whenever Father raised his voice, even though she was his favorite. He thinks of how she was given a front row seat to watch her brother burn the moment he disobeyed. He thinks of how she’d replied to his letters, even though he’s sure now she wasn’t meant to.
Azula has always been smarter than him, but there’s plenty she doesn’t understand. She intends to bring him back to the Fire Lord and continue to play the part of the sharp-edged monster. She’d come here today pretending to be some idealized version of the sister who’d tormented him. She doesn’t understand, yet, that Zuko doesn’t want that. He just wants his sister, for all her flaws and frustrating perfections, and he just wants her to be happy.
And if Sokka could help him, maybe Zuko can help her.
“I have a plan,” he reveals finally, slinging the bag’s strap over his shoulder.
Sokka considers him for a moment, squinting thoughtfully. “...Is it stupid?”
Zuko nods. "Very."
The Water Tribesman grins. Behind him, Katara and Aang wear matching smiles. Only Uncle seems wary, but Zuko has no doubt he’ll follow their lead. “Alright, Mastermind,” Sokka says, leaning forward conspiratorially. “What’s the plan?”