THE MEAT & SARCASM GUY.

He pushed her over again. Did he even get these many hits in when they were actually fighting? With a scowl, she straightened her robes a second time and suggested in response to his muttered complaints, “Perhaps you should invest in a pair of glasses to improve your walking and your aim before you start worrying about your strength.”

She scoffed at his warning of danger. This was the literal entrance to her home, and right across the fire nation palace. There was no other place in the world that was safer than where they stood now. She was just about to retort that the only danger around here was his apparent affinity for ramming into people, when his sudden expression of gratitude caught her off guard. 

At first, she was offended. She had spent months in prison so he could get out safely (for the moment, she chose to ignore the fact that her actions had purely been for Zuko’s benefit, and his freedom had been an accidental addition) and all she got was uh… thanks? But then she considered whether she would have preferred a full-blown heartfelt apology, and shuddered. No, she would much rather prefer this. “Whatever,” she said, glaring down at the floor. “You’re welcome, I guess.“ And for good measure, she added, “It’s not like I did it for you. You don’t owe me anything.” It was Zuko who owed her– or so she had thought. Based on their last conversation however, the new Fire Lord was clearly not on the same page as her. Her actions had simply been the right thing to do, and were what was expected of her, if she was a good person. 

“I know you didn’t do it for me, that’s why I’m grateful. I guess.” He shrugged. “It was just real unexpected after the year plus you spent trying to kill us, the whole invading Ba Sing Se thing, the drill, that time that we never got any sleep and my lifespan went down by a few years—did you know that for every night you go without any sleep, you lose years off your life you’ll never get back? My life expectancy must be, like, forty-five by now—I don’t need to go on. You know. You were there. And I know that if Zuko hadn’t been on that gondola, you would’ve cut the line and been rid of us. The whole reason we were there in the first place was because of me and my half-cocked plans, and I really would’ve screwed that one up if you hadn’t saved the day, so, yeah. Thanks.”

Sokka hadn’t expected today to end up with him word-vomiting at Mai about the Boiling Rock, but now that it had happened, he didn’t know why he hadn’t. Every day in the Fire Nation thus far had proved weirder and weirder, with more and more unexpected encounters, and really, running into Mai and rehashing their complicated history seemed way more likely than most of the other days he’d had at this point. On the bright side, based on her expression, it looked like this was about as painful for her as it was for him.

Apparently the ‘human to human’ thing confused him a bit. Ming squinted her eyes a bit at the man, trying to think of a reason why the White Lotus would want such a young and… naive member. She listened to his question, though, and felt that maybe he was actually trying to get somewhere. She wasn’t sure what the destination was, but it would be rude to walk away or distract from the question now. She rubbed her shoulder and answered. “Well, I joined the military at 18 with the intent to desert. I thought if I was sent to the front lines in the Earth Kingdom, I could slip away and make a new life for myself. I even cut off ties with my parents in preparation, so that they wouldn’t get interrogated when I left. Of course, I got stationed here in Caldera so the plan didn’t go quite as I had hoped.” 

She felt weird telling someone the truth for the first time in her life. Before Zuko took the throne, what she had just said was treason, but now it just made her sound and feel pathetic. She rubbed her neck and looked away to add, “Looking back, it would have been cowardly to do, but when you’re young and feel trapped, you don’t think about all the consequences.” She felt vulnerable telling this stranger so much about herself, so she took a more defensive stance. “But, you said you’re a soldier too. Did you fight in the War for the Water Tribe?” She felt justified in the question, it was an ‘eye for an eye’ scenario.

That answer surprised him. He had expected all members of the Fire Nation military to be relatively gung-ho about it—or at least, to not enlist with plans to desert straight off the bat. So maybe he was wrong; maybe she’d questioned the Fire Nation from the start. “I don’t think it was cowardly. But what was your plan when you ended up here, then?”

It was a bold question, asked almost involuntarily—if she didn’t answer, he wouldn’t blame her. “Not that I’m trying to, I don’t know, interrogate you. I just don’t get it. Yeah, Ozai was a bad dude who probably would’ve had anyone killed for speaking against him, but in all the time I spent here it didn’t seem like most people had a particularly bad or even neutral opinion of the war—and not in a ‘we’re lying through our teeth’ kind of way. Even the good people. I’m not going to say I didn’t believe in the existence of good people in the Fire Nation. And now it’s like, for the first time, you’ve got a Fire Lord who wants to reset the ship’s course, right? And everybody’s jumping down his throat for stuff people before him did, without even really giving him the chance to prove that he’s different—except that obviously, he is different, or else these conversations wouldn’t be allowed to happen.”

     Qin went through a plethora of expressions in the next minute or so. From a lighthearted smirk to a squint of the eyes, followed by exasperation and tiredness by the end of the story of the water tribe soldier. “Well, that was quite the ride. You do have a thing for speeches, huh? I never got your name, however. Mine’s Qin.” For a moment, Qin forgot about the entire protest ordeal and actually listened to the boy, even though he talked too much. There was a certain spring to him as if nothing bad harbored in his soul. What would Qin know of a pure-hearted soul, however? “Yes. We all know of this… fiasco with Aang. Thank you for the details, though,” he paused, quickly returning to his words, “And before you ask, yes, I met your friendly neighborhood friend, the Avatar. You two give off similar energies.”

     “No, I don’ t know what you mean.“ Qin honestly replied, taking a moment to recollect his thoughts. “I know that the timing might be sudden and impulsive, but what the people want are expectations that can be perfectly met.“ With these words, his gaze pinned on the boomerang guy. “I think as part of the Southern Water Tribe, or really, any of the two tribes at this point, you should be one of the many people demanding the Fire Lord to act fast. Given that you know him personally, have you ever asked him what he plans to do to revive your sister tribes? Especially your home one, which was devastated by three generations of Fire Lords.“ Maybe it wasn’t in the right place for Qin to ask such personal questions, when he himself was part of destroying the Northern Water Tribe and killing the moon spirit. Change had to begin from somewhere.

"I don’t have a thing for speeches so much as I have a thing for talking. It’s my thing. I’m Sokka, the talking guy. And Aang and I do not give off similar energies.” They definitely gave off similar energies. “He’s all Mr. Spiritual, ‘I’m the Avatar;’ I am just a regular guy, looking for a regular time.” When that had stopped being true, Sokka wasn’t entirely sure, though when he met the Avatar was a pretty safe bet. He hadn’t had a regular time in years.

just jumping on a big flying bison and running off to somewhere else must make life a lot easier. she wished she could just fly out of the fire nation and come back to harass a few politicians when they deserved it, but then she wouldn’t be doing a good job being the leader of the freedom fighters. “yeah, nothing says romantic like being surrounded on all sides by lying politicians and ash-making soldiers.” not even jet could have found someone to sweep off their feet here in his free time. she could almost perfectly visualize him pretending to throw up in a gutter at the thick smell of the spicy peppers so popular here.

knowing sokka wasn’t exactly cuddling up to the fire lord was comforting. her shoulders visibly relaxed a little at his critique of the fire nation. it didn’t seem like anyone in that palace was listening in the open forum, the room was all fire nation and a few friends of the avatar, she’d had to practically demand her way in. “i’ll blame them. they don’t think of anyone but themselves. it’s the whole reason this stupid nation started a war to begin with isn’t it? they think they’re the most important people on earth and every school, leader, and politician has been telling them that for a hundred years. why should a room full of uppity fire nation types with enough funds to be in the city this long after the coronation give a skunk-bear sized shit about the people they hurt? no offense, but you avatar traveling types seem pretty sympathetic to them, sitting pretty up in the palace, eating fancy fire nation food and sleeping in fire nation silk sheets, you didn’t even speak up about what’s owed to the southern water tribe.”

smellerbee kicked a pebble with the toe of her shoe, watching it skip on stone paved path. “i thought you came to find me to tell the freedom fighters to get out, honestly. i know you didn’t like jet, or his methods.”

“when you take out an entire fleet of air ships flying to burn the earth kingdom down, you can give me lip about what is and isn’t worthy of romance,” sokka said, waving his hand dismissively. “until then, i don’t want to hear about it.” and if that seemed like a bit of a jab for not recognizing his contributions in ending the war ... well, that would be because it was. after all, sokka’d run out of patience for the number of people who had decided in, what, less than a week? that the number of times they’d put their lives on the line to end this war wasn’t enough.

no offense. sokka grinned at that, guilty though it was. she was right; he hadn’t spoken up about the water tribe. “that whole forum was for the fire nation. i didn’t need to start bringing water tribe business into it. they’re the ones who have to change the most, right? so if they need a place to talk about it, so be it.” he shrugged. it sounded a little lame, even to him. “you’re the one who pointed out that we’re staying in the palace. that conversation doesn’t need to happen in front of a bunch of fire nation people. i’m with aang; the thing i care the most about is getting everything to a point of lasting peace. and that’s what zuko wants, too.” of that much, sokka was sure. 

“and, look, i’m not going to say you’re wrong that the fire nation could use a little... how do i put this? global education.” who couldn’t? when sokka remembered the version of himself who had never left the southern water tribe— yeesh. sure, not as bad as, say, a brainwashed fire nation citizen who had been raised to believe in the greatness of their nation, that the war was them spreading their goodness to those backwards other nations, yadda yadda, but still too embarrassing to spend too much time dwelling on. “and you’re right. i didn’t like jet or his methods.” he wouldn’t dwell on that part. it was too callous even for sokka to go on about jet’s manipulation and terrorism to his family. “but i did—i do like the freedom fighters. i liked the idea of this scrappy band of teenagers taking down entire militias. the problem was when you lost sight of the people you were helping.”

A voice said her name, then mentioned an idea she proposed at the public forum. Shit. After the scary little earth kingdom girl spoke, Ming was on guard. People were (rightfully) upset, and she felt like drastic measures were about to be taken if something didn’t change. She relaxed a bit when she recognized the voice as male (or at least, not as rough as the girl’s voice) and turned to see the owner of the question. Sokka, Southern Water Tribe, a friend of Iroh. They had met briefly at the Coronation where Ming had made herself look like a fool, and the embarrassment threatened to take hold of her cheeks. Instead of letting a blush rinse over her, one of confusion replaced it. “I’d be happy to talk with you, but not soldier to soldier. I gave that life up, so if you want to ask me something, it’ll have to be human to human.” She offered a small smile to show him that no offense was taken, but she wanted to make herself clear: she’s a former Fire Nation guard.

She was a bit nervous to hear what he was about to ask, considering the atmosphere from the forum was, for the most part, laced with anger toward the Fire Nation and the Fire Lord. She knew he was a friend of Iroh, yes, but figured it was because he’s a member of the White Lotus. There was nothing she knew about Sokka that suggested he was close to Zuko other than his friendship to Iroh. Of course, from what she’d heard, White Lotus members were all very old, so maybe there was another explanation. It wasn’t like she could ask him if he was part of a super secret society that she only knew about because it was part of Iroh’s prison records. She took a breath and tried to brush off the assumptions. They wouldn’t do her any good, the best way for her to learn about Sokka was to listen to his question.

Sokka rubbed his jaw. This ‘human to human’ business felt like semantics to him, and Sokka didn’t care much about semantics. Once a soldier, always a soldier; some of that training never went away, at least as far as he was concerned, and he couldn’t imagine it was much different for a country as militarized as the Fire Nation. “I guess the problem is that my question is for the version of you that was a soldier.” Although he didn’t exactly know how to phrase it—something told him that starting the conversation with so, how come you’re only interested in making all these bold statements now that Zuko’s in charge, and why are you trying to turn public opinion against him? wouldn’t go over too well.

“Or... more like, I want to start at the beginning.” Easiest way to meet in the middle, right? Start at the beginning and work forward. If he could explain to her their position and where they were coming from—how hard they’d fought to get to this point, and their hopes and dreams and aspirations for going forward—then maybe she could understand. She seemed to have the Fire Nation citizens in her pocket, right? Then she could get them to understand, too.

Unless she was just using this opportunity to get ahead. And Sokka would figure that out.

Days had passed and yet Suki was still hung up on Ming’s haunting words. She hated herself for feeling so weak and at the mercy of words with no actual proof to back up the claim. But hating herself— hating Ming— wasn’t going to stop the ache in her chest and gnawing feeling in her gut that told her there was some kind of truth to the story. Even as she listened to each speaker at the forum, quietly observing from a back corner, Suki couldn’t help but feel distracted. She’d finally thought she figured out a plan for herself, only for it to come crashing down in a matter of seconds. Despite the political chaos happening right under her nose, she could only think of one thing: her mother. Feelings that she believed were buried and forgotten so long ago were resurfacing and crashing on her like a tsunami wave. But, knowing that there were problems— much bigger than herself— that needed to be tackled and addressed, her selfish thoughts made her sick.

In need of fresh air, she excused herself from the Kyoshi Warriors. As she wandered aimlessly through the palace halls, Suki found herself wandering into the garden, allowing herself to find comfort in the flowered assortments. It was a nice distraction from it all. Soon, the calm was broken by a welcomed guest. Although she wouldn’t admit it, Sokka’s sudden appearance had definitely made her jump in place. When he was around, she couldn’t help but smile (albeit the one she offered in that moment was a bit sad). 

Her heart swelled at the sight of the bouquet, taking them gently into her grasp. “They’re so beautiful, thank you, Sokka.” As always, he’d managed to lighten the mood regardless of the heavy situations being thrust at them. To Suki, he was like a rainbow after the storm; a sight to see. “Taking Appa for a joy ride would be nice…” She attempted to play off his banter with a small grin, before raising her brow teasingly. “But aren’t you supposed to be resting that leg of yours? I don’t want to be held responsible if you get yourself hurt trying to impress me.”

"Well, Suki, that’s why I’m a genius,” Sokka said, confident as ever, and he leaned against the nearest tree. “You know what takes a lot of pressure off an injured leg? That’s right—letting a ten-ton flying bison give you a lift. Besides,” he pat the leg in question, “I’m doing way better. Didn’t you see my launch from that railing? I’m practically doing acrobatics over here. Step aside, Ty Lee.”

He didn’t miss the sadness in her smile when she turned to greet him. Sokka may not have been an expert in insight, but he’d spent enough time admiring every one of Suki’s different smiles to know when something was off—and with the Fire Nation plummeting into chaos, he could imagine at least a few reasons why. “Or we could just hang out here if you want?” A family of turtle ducks swum in a line on the opposite edge of the pond, and a butterfly landed on a flowerbed, wings fluttering. The palace gardens preserved a kind of peace Sokka hardly imagined the Fire Nation capable of, even after the war ended. The events of the last few days made that more than obvious.

Call it selfish, but with all the seeking out of political players, having big conversations, et cetera et cetera that Sokka had been doing, he felt, to be honest, like he deserved a break. Frankly, he still awaited someone to thank him for his very important contributions to the war effort, and he took some umbrage to all these people popping up who contributed, as far as he could tell, nothing, and now they were making demands! And treating him like he was the bad guy! Or, well, treating Zuko like he was the bad guy, and maybe Aang too, and therefore so were their associates, because apparently, apparently, Sokka was not important enough to be treated as anything of his own accord. Uhh, by the way, Earth Kingdom, you’re welcome for stopping the air ships that were going to burn all your land to the ground.

But that was besides the point. The point here and now was that if Sokka wanted to take some time off to, you know, hang out with his girlfriend and not think about civil unrest in the Fire Nation or his obligations to the Water Tribes or anything else, he had damn well earned the right to, thank you very much. Plus, Suki had been busy what with all of the Kyoshi Warrior-ing, and Sokka had been busy with all of the talking to conspirators thing, and you know what? He could admit it—he missed her. (In the back of his mind, looming large: the question of where she would go, and where he would go, and what happened to them as a they when they went wherever they went, but he didn’t have to deal with any of that right now, either.)

the crew she was running with right now was small. they couldn’t exactly get everyone in on one boat when people were coming in droves to see the coronation and celebrate an official end to the war. not when there was still work to be done and still troops acting as though ozai’s life and death had no sway on how they were going to treat the towns and villages they had captured. just a close team. people she trusted. people who wouldn’t mind slumming it on rooftops and alleys until they found some spot without too much fire nation stink on it to set up. she’d happily live in the trees, but the city didn’t have much in the way of thick landscape surrounding it and they needed to stay close to the action.

smellerbee was flipping a knife over in her hands, catching handle, then tip, then tossing it to the other hand, absentminded fiddling while she recounted the reactions in the meeting to the three people gathered around her. her hand gripped on the knife fully, taking a defensive pose with it when sokka appeared in the light of the alley. she only relaxed a little when she recognized him. he hadn’t really been a fan of the freedom fighters when they first met, and the second time they met was… not really a time for casual conversation about how they had been intending to change. it was hard to say if the water tribe warrior was a friend or a foe all things considered.

she jerked her head and the others dispersed through the back of the alley, making themselves scarce, and then nodded to sokka. “i’ve got nothing but time in this ash-hole. we can walk?” smellerbee didn’t wait for his consent before she walked toward, and then past him into the open street and the sun. smellerbee slipped the knife into a holster on her thigh. she side-eyed the flowers and raised an eyebrow at him, not that he could see it under her thick bangs and headband. 

“i can’t say i expected a guy who used to hate the fire nation as much as we do to be buying lilies from them. i guess we’re all full of surprises.”

sokka narrowed his eyes, more friendly than suspicious. “don’t question my lilies,” he said, tucking them into the crook of his arm as he turned to follow smellerbee. ash-hole. that was a good one. he’d have to use that later. “i’ll have you know, they’re for suki, who, by the way, is not a member of the fire nation. but i can’t exactly go skipping town to buy lilies from another country. aang isn’t letting me borrow appa. and besides, that’s not the point.”

the point was that smellerbee did have a point, actually, and suddenly he felt ashamed of all of it—the flowers, the palace. he’d spent months living and training in the fire lord’s beach house, for tui’s sake, though he reminded himself that that had been a vital strategic position that ultimately lead to taking down the fire lord. and that was what he had to keep reminding himself of. who’d been the ones to destroy the air fleet sent to burn down the entirety of the earth kingdom? him, toph, suki. who’d been the ones to take down azula before she could become the new fire lord and further her father’s and her grandfather’s and her great-grandfather’s campaign of terror? zuko and katara. who’d defeated the fire lord? aang. it’s not like they’d been sitting around twiddling their thumbs, and he would appreciate it if everyone else would stop acting like they had.

He’d recognized her in the town hall almost immediately from that uncomfortable encounter at the Coronation Festival: Iroh’s tea server, it turned out, was once a Fire Nation prison guard. Half Earth Kingdom, half Fire Nation. They had cleared up the misunderstanding and gone their separate ways then, mostly to make the conversation less uncomfortable. At the time, he’d had no idea she was once a guard, and the information had come as a shock, considering Iroh had welcomed her as a server. Sure, Iroh knew a thing or two about redemption, and maybe she’d been involved in aiding his escape. Maybe the entire time she’d worked at the palace, she’d been a covert revolutionary, waiting for her moment.

But to be honest? Sokka didn’t really buy that. Between her and the soldier, it seemed a little convenient that now, with a new person in power who wanted to enact change, these former tools of Ozai’s forces wanted to condemn him and the previous Fire Lords like they hadn’t worked for the guy. How much of these moral shifts were just opportunists keeping up with the attitude of the current person in power?

In light of that ... he didn’t really know what he was looking for when he approached her. Sokka didn’t exactly believe himself so great a judge of character that he could recognize her true intentions with a bit of chit chat, but at the same time, he needed to know.

“Ming, right?” he said as he approached her from behind. “You wanted an elected council?”

That had been the most interesting thing she said. Elections for political figures were, as far as he could tell, pretty unprecedented—his dad may not have become chief of his village through some kind of divine bloodline (Gran-Gran wasn’t even from the Southern Water Tribe, and his grandpa had been but a regular ice fisher), but rather because the people liked him and thought he’d make a good leader, but that was all way more informal than, you know, the Fire Council.

There wasn’t much guarantee that Katara would be awake at this hour, but Sokka couldn’t sleep, and Katara was his sister, which meant that she had a responsibility as his sibling to suffer sleeplessness with him. And besides, based on the patterns of behavior they’d developed from three years of a life essentially on the run and the unrest they’d witnessed the past few days, he was pretty willing to bet that she was awake, as ill at ease as he was.

That didn’t stop him from pacing in front of her door long enough that no fewer than three (3) palace guards stopped him to ask if he was lost, even though his own room was right next door and he probably could’ve paced there. A few of the myriad topics circling his brain at the time: should he have spoken at the forum? Public speaking and Sokka were not friends—Aang had given him a whole pep talk about it, in fact—but if even Teo could take the stage to discuss the records of atrocities he’d discovered, shouldn’t he have been able to hop up there and tell everyone about some of the ways the Southern Water Tribe had suffered, how the tribe had never had the opportunity to fully rebuild after the regular ravages from the Fire Nation while they stole away all of their water benders? Shouldn’t he have been able to remind everyone that Zuko, in his core, wanted to do good and heal the world, but the rest of the world deserved healing and reparations as much as the downtrodden citizens of the Fire Nation? And if the focus had become helping to purge the Fire Nation of its sins, what purpose did he serve here anymore? (What purpose did he serve here to begin with now that the war was over?)

And every time he thought about whether he should go home, he remembered it—the burning anger in Katara’s eyes as she boarded Appa with Zuko, ready to face off the man who murdered their mother, the way she said then you didn’t love her the way I did.

Sokka knew, of course he knew, that she’d just said it to hurt him. She didn’t really mean that; emotions were high, and she’d just been offered the promise of closure from the loss of their mom. But—what if she did think that he didn’t love their mom the way she did, and what if she was right? What if he’d lost his sense of duty to their home, and that was why he hesitated to return?

UGH, this was getting him nowhere. “Katara. Katara, open up, I’m freaking out,” he said to the door, accompanied with erratic knocking. But this was Sokka, so of course he didn’t wait for her to answer and instead threw open the door, tossing anxious handfuls of sizzle-crisps into his mouth. Wait, shit, where did he start? He couldn’t just come in here and unload all of his problems onto Katara without warning, never mind that Sokka didn’t “enjoy” talking about his “feelings.”

Between the protests and the forum, Sokka had come to the startling conclusion that he had no idea what the fuck was going on anymore. Especially in the early days, much of his, Aang, and Katara’s travels (more like misadventures) had brought them to small towns with unusual circumstances, and Sokka had wholeheartedly believed that those experiences had kept them grounded, that he had a sense of what regular people—people just like him; he was nobody great or famous or important—needed, wanted, felt, anything, all over the world. 

Apparently, he’d been wrong.

Maybe the last year or two that they’d spent in hiding and the glory and glamor of traveling with the fabled Avatar had skewed his perspective. Maybe he’d just been blind to the Fire Nation this entire time. Either way, sitting in the palace with Momo throwing berries into his mouth wasn’t going to fix any of that—but taking to the bustling capital city streets might.

And also he wanted to go pick up some flowers for Suki. Two birds, one stone, right? 

Mostly, though, he wanted to find Smellerbee. Seeing her take the podium at the forum had been perhaps the greatest shock of all—he had no idea when she’d gotten to the Fire Nation or how, and the guilt that the last time he saw her was as she watched one of her best friends die sat heavily on his shoulders. And more importantly... she’d raised a lot of good points. As much as he burned with a need to defend Zuko—she couldn’t know; she wasn’t there through all of it; she wasn’t there when he knelt and offered himself as a prisoner; she didn’t go with them to a black site Fire Nation prison, where Zuko willingly led Sokka without mentioning (though Sokka knew) that his presence there meant he risked being captured and executed for treason—he couldn’t deny that she’d been right to remind everyone of the scars the rest of the world had developed. Hama may have been a terrifying psycho, but she was also living proof of the damages the Fire Nation had inflicted upon just his own tribe. 

Eventually, he found her in an alley. There was no mistaking that warpaint. (Only then did he realize he probably should’ve waited to buy the flowers, and, embarrassed, he shoved them behind his back. Whoops.)

     It was a strange turn of events. First, Qin Lee had tried to escape the mess that erupted after Aang and Zuko made their statements to the angry public. They had successfuly silenced the mobs down but the angered whispers and rumours continued to spread like wildfire. On the edge of escape, Qin had knocked into some random guy, which would all be fine because because after thirty seconds he would finally have his freedom. But that wasn’t the case. Now he was being dragged through the mess of a center square by a random boy he couldn’t quite put his finger on, trying to what? Make amends?

     Escaping the crowd with the stranger, Qin was quick to step aside and take a better look at his saviour or kidnapper – you name it. Adorned with the colors of the water tribes and a face bewildered to no extent, the other young man made Qin calculate his next words. He definitey had to do that earlier rather than now, but the past was in the past. “And who might you be? It’s not often that you see a waterbender out and about ‘round here.” The ex-soldier squinted his eyes at the stranger. He had heard vivid descriptions of Avatar Aang’s friends and confidantes. Perhaps he was one of them. The stranger’s tribal clothes reminded him of all the bad things Qin had done to the Tribes, his features softening up as he tried to purge them away. 

     He took a deep breath befre speaking again, trying to cool down a bit. “Sorry for lashing out. It’s been an explosive day.”

“Waterbender?” On instinct, Sokka looked around the area, expecting to see Katara pop up somewhere, using her waterbending for ... something. What about this situation could be solved by waterbending, Sokka had no idea, but then again, he wasn’t the one responsible for bending water or coming up with creative uses for it. “Oh! Oh, you mean me. No, I’m not a waterbender. Just a guy ... with a boomerang”—he pointed to the boomerang in question, strapped to his back—“from the Water Tribe. And what am I doing here, well, see, now there’s a big question.”

On a macro level, Sokka didn’t have much of an answer to that question. What was he doing here in the Fire Nation, instead of returning home to the water tribe? But on a micro level, well, he still didn’t have much of an answer to that question. For one, he didn’t exactly know how he should introduce himself around here. Didn’t people, well, know who he was? Hadn’t he gained a modicum of fame as one of the Avatar’s initial two companions, a hapless fifteen-year-old who’d quite literally stumbled into his role and ended up leading military sieges? Did he really have to go around and say, like, oh, you know, I’m here with the Avatar, supporting him while he does Avatar stuff? That was too embarrassing even for Sokka. Plus, he had no idea where this guy stood on the whole ‘protest’ issue (though his frustration at lack of physical space suggested maybe, maybe he wasn’t part of it) and as much as Sokka wanted to listen to the protesters, he didn’t think they would think much of him if they did know who he was. 

He winced at the sight of the other boy sprawled out on the ground, messed up leg and all. Breathing a sigh of relief when Sokka got to his feet, Teo beamed up at him. “It’s good to see you too! Sorry for probably fucking up your leg even more…” He smiled ruefully. “I’ve got more bandages in here somewhere if you need them?” He began to bend sideways to search through the side-bags on his wheelchair. Finding nothing useful, for this moment at least, he winced again. “Actually, maybe not…”

His eyes traveled back to the crowd in front of them. “Oh so that’s what this is about.” Squinting to get a better look, he pulled out his biscopes. A new project he’d been working on in his down time. They looked like two regular spyglasses had been welded together so each eye could look through a separate lens. Adjusting the focus rings, he peered into the crowd once more, getting a closer look at all the angry faces. There seemed to be some sort of cabbage box in the center of the protest, different people taking turns standing on it and leading chants or giving speeches. He handed the biscopes to Sokka so he could get a look as well, and pointed out the box. “I don’t see why you have to give up yelling just yet.” Teo smiled slyly. “If you could get over there we could at least talk to the people who organized this thing. Or just get up there and do some yelling yourself.” He laughed lightly. “I’m here if you need help with whatever you decide to do.” Teo smirked and brought his hand up to his forehead in a mock salute. “I am humbly at your service General Sokka sir!”

“No, no,” Sokka held up an insistent hand, “So my leg’s wrecked for the time being! That doesn’t mean I’m looking for special treatment, you got it?” Certainly not from Teo of all people—Sokka didn’t have much by way of self-awareness, but he knew enough than to go around pitying himself for an injured leg while Teo innovated his way around every challenge that not having use of his legs could present. Sokka may have half-assed-ideas’d his way into saving the world from the Fire Nation, but Teo? Teo would change the world for real, the way people lived and moved and thought.

here is life in the fire palace:

a room (a guest room!) larger, sokka swears, than his entire village in the southern water tribe. the layout makes no sense. who puts a bed square in the middle of the room? people who have enough floorspace to spare, apparently. long gone are the days that he and katara shared a tent with gran-gran; now, sokka sleeps starfished on a canopy bed, a man on his very own island.

he is as glutted as any rich nobleman. the servants can loathe him all they please—out of sworn fealty to the old regime or disbelief at anyone but the esteemed royal family occupying these quarters or xenophobia or anything else—but they cannot reject him; he is an honored guest of the fire lord. and really, sokka takes no pleasure in having servants.

well. all right. he takes a little pleasure.

it’s uncomfortable, awkward business, going from a peasant’s village to turn-down service every evening. he learns the servants’ names, thanks them for their attentive service, feels good about none of it—except sokka loves the food, the easy access to the palace resources. if he wants water, sho has a glass for him before sokka even knows to ask. the life is easy. he could get used to it, if he let himself.

but, as with all things, even with the war over—sokka waits for the other shoe to drop.

and boy, does it. it drops much sooner than he had anticipated: the morning after the coronation, while sokka slurps down a fine, refreshing melon juice, the warnings of riots echo through the ornate palace halls.

the surge of adrenaline through his body numbs even the pain of his still-healing strained leg as he sprints through the halls, gathering his southern water tribe armor, the sleek black of his meteorite sword, his trusty boomerang. he’s been waiting for this moment since aang stripped ozai of his bending only four days ago, when the fire nation remembered they still had the world’s most powerful military, technology that advanced far beyond the rest of the world, and the burning embers of their loyalty and righteous anger in their hearts. today, sokka knows, the firebending elite have come to depose the young fire lord and the avatar and their so-called ‘new world order’—permanently.

but when he reaches the palace courtyard, it is not the fire nation military refusing to accept a new fire lord that he sees. it isn’t even the scores of wealthy firebenders he anticipated, the ones who stand to lose everything as zuko dismantles the monument of imperialism brick by brick. no, here are the commonfolk of the fire nation, the ones sokka met in the months they spent in hiding there: overtaxed civilians, scorned families of conscripted fire nation soldiers long dead, victims of a century-long campaign of propaganda and revisionism. his dad had always told him to take note of this moment, for history is written by the victors.

so what happens to the losers?

they clamor not to restore the fire nation to its position of glory, but to be remembered. the fire nation suffered, too. and they, too, bear the scars of this war.

he sheathes his sword and steps closer to the crowd, trying to make sense of their angry shouts over one another. “hey, hey, wait a second,” he says, and to his own ears his voice sounds weak and small.

who is he, sokka of the water tribe? a coddled companion of the avatar who just last night slept in a bed constructed atop a literal pedestal. and still he has the audacity to believe himself a man of the people.

“hang on a second!” he says, louder. he has led armies and invasions; he has forged armor for a sky bison; he can speak to an unruly crowd. “listen, i’m on your side, but with everybody yelling over each other, no one knows what any of you are really saying—“ ah! an idea. whether it was worth anything was yet to be determined, but that was what sokka’s life motto was for: people say it’s hard to come up with a plan. it’s very easy to come up with a plan. the trick is coming up with a good plan. sokka is the ideas guy; he never called himself the good ideas guy. “one second! i will be right back! just hang on to your hats until then.”

he darts into the palace and then returns with a brush, ink, and a long, long scroll. “alright! i’m going to write down your demands and bring them to the fire lord. just start listing ‘em off, and we’ll see what we can do. i know, i know, this whole fire council thing is terrible for publicity—am i gonna have to be the fire lord’s PR guy? apparently, i am—but don’t throw the sea prunes out with the saltwater. no? you don’t know that expression? must be a water tribe thing. the point is, zuko—fire lord zuko’s gonna need more time than the whopping twelve hours he’s had so far to make arrangements and changes. but he’s committed to this healing thing, right? so here’s what we’re gonna do. we’re going to write down what you, the people of the fire nation, need. and we’re gonna write down what you want. and that’ll help him figure out what the best moves are here.”

maybe it’s the still-healing leg and the blue water tribe clothing that make him look nonthreatening and relatable to this small selection of people. sokka writes furiously, his tongue poking out of his mouth and his brows furrowed with concentration, based on the shouts he can hear: punishing the extant fire council for their war crimes. replacing the fire council with people who actually represent the people of the fire nation. yes, okay, great. worthwhile causes. dismantling the factories and training facilities that had received all of the monarchy’s financing and instead funneling those funds back into the reconstruction of the villages that suffered the most. protections and guarantees on all cabbage distributions—

“i am not writing that down. come on, people. serious claims only.”

( in the background, an indignant ‘that is serious!’ )

“okay, okay, fine, insurances for farmlands against damages, with particular restorations for literal scorched earth. happy?”

“sokka !!” she cooed, “it’s so good to see you.” ty lee grinned and clasped her hands together as she turned to face sokka, disregarding the frantic energy he was exuding. that was, after all, what she did best––disregarding the negative and honing in on the positive. she liked to think that it was because she believed that whatever karma you put out into the universe was the karma you got back, but there was a part of her that wondered how she would crawl out of despair if she allowed herself to dwell in it for too long.

she blinked back into the present conversation as sokka started dragging her away from the group of protestors who had paused to to gawk at the kyoshi warrior doing backflips in the middle of her mediation. “but i didn’t even get to start the visualization exercise !! i was going to use drums to keep the tempo even.” ty lee pouted as she was pulled away from what she considered to be her current calling in life. she let out a little huff, breath stirring her bangs off of her forehead, as they rounded a corner. “you know, i think you could use some work, too, sokka. your energy is all chaotic and…lumpy.” 

his face fell. “something tells me they have no interest in a drum circle,” sokka said, scrubbing a frustrated hand down his face. how did he say do i need to remind you that you come from one of the noble families and none of these people are interested in being talked down to by an ex-fire nation noble or a member of azula’s trinity without sounding like an asshole?

well, circumstances being what they were and time being of the essence, he couldn’t come up with a reasonable method, so he just went with: “do i need to remind you that you come from one of the noble families and none of these people are interested in being talked down to by an ex-fire nation noble or a member of azula’s trinity?”—except quietly, in case any bystanders hadn’t recognized her under the kyoshi face paint. they were out of earshot now, but one could never be too careful; if sokka had learned anything, it was that you could very well be overheard any time, any place, no matter how safe you thought you were. how else was azula always one step ahead of them?