Avatar The Last Airbender Fan Fiction ❯ Amber ❯ Chapter 5 ( Chapter 5 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

A/N: Hi, friends. Thanks for sticking with the story. I apologize for the delay in updates—we have family in the hospital right now, so things may be a bit spread out for a while. This is the first chapter where Co-Pirate Sav has edited/ contributed. Everyone, please let her know how awesome she is. THANK YOU TO A WONDERFUL PERSON ON YAHOO ANSWERS! WITHOUT THEM, YOU WOULD NOT BE READING THIS CHAPTER. Site has been messed up, email me if you want to find out how to get to your stories to edit them!

As a side/ personal note (please feel free to skip): I feel the need to address one recurring aspect of this story that is very important to me on a personal level—Sokka's obliviousness. Yes, I realize I have made him quite oblivious. Yes, many of you living in liberal societies may think this is impossible or outrageous—and in many areas these days, it certainly may be. However, these feelings and thoughts are based on my own personal experiences "coming out" in the conservative South—which did not happen until I was in college. I hope that most of you understand that in a society where this type of thing is not addressed (and I certainly never saw evidence that it was addressed in the canon TV show), it takes a long time, a lot of confusion, and yes, a lot of obliviousness, before you realize that liking the same sex is even an option. This is the POV that I imagine Sokka is coming from, at least in this story. Thank you for understanding!

Co-Pirate's Notes: Hmmm, nothing more to add other than the author has spent a lot of time on this for you lovely readers and I feel you should respect that. Criticism is always welcomed, as long as it's constructive and polite.

Disclaimer: Me no own no-thing.

Sokka rolled over. As he slowly woke up, his dreams became a mess of jumbled fragments that slipped past his reach. The harder he tried to hold on to them, the more his head hurt. The pounding in his head was enough to make him see stars in the back of his eyelids. Adding to the parade of agonies assaulting his senses, there was a deafening sound scraping against his ear drums. It sounded like Toph had set up shop somewhere and was dancing around splitting rocks for fun and giggles. Sitting up groggily, he scrubbed at his face and peered through squinted eyes. Iroh was collapsed in a chair near the bed, snoring up a storm and out like a light. Hello, source of ear-splitting agony. Glancing around, he noticed the late sun slanting through the window. It wasn't yet evening, but it was definitely well into the afternoon. He caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror that was propped up against the wall behind Iroh. Minus the fact that he was starting to look a bit like a cabbage cart wreck, Sokka was practically giddy that his face no longer resembled a human hamburger. The nap had left his body feeling surprisingly strong and refreshed. Shuu and the other healers had made some amazing progress in such a short time since he'd come back around—very impressive, to say the least. It was no wonder that they were considered the best in the area. He grinned to himself; as good as his healers had been, Katara was better. Except that half the time she berated him so much for getting hurt in the first place, that he almost wished she'd go ahead and put him out of his misery.

Lifting his arm, he sniffed and drew a face—damn, he needed a bath. His teeth felt fuzzy, too. At this rate he'd probably be able to take out a whole herd of full grown saber-tooth moose lions. He swung his legs to the ground and waited for his equilibrium to recover as a wave of dizziness gripped him. After a moment or two, his vision settled down and he was able to stand up. He was still a little shaky in the knees, but he felt exponentially better than he had before. A few experimental steps later, Sokka was enormously pleased with the results. With an inward celebratory battle cry, he marched on towards the bathroom. When he entered he had to pause for a moment of silence at the utterly absurd size of Zuko's bathtub. What was the point of bathing in a swimming pool?

Shaking his head, he went about the task of removing all the sweat and grime he had been accumulating while convalescing.

While he bathed, he thought long and hard. There were so many things that had him worried; Zuko, the assassin, his sister, even the simple task of making a full recovery. When he thought about these things, it seemed like there was an almost insurmountable number of obstacles. Sokka needed to find a starting point, to tackle the things he could now, and worry about the rest later. One glance at his grimy clothes gave him his first goal of the day: retrieve fresh clothing from his room. Even a street urchin wouldn't be caught dead in what he had just dropped on the floor; he had practically marinated in those clothes. He wasn't sure what all had been brought over from his room, but it was no surprise that his wardrobe hadn't exactly been a priority as of late.

The worries he carried involving his sister, the assassin, and part of his concern over Zuko all came down to finding the identity of the assassin as soon as possible. Things had already been set in motion, but Sokka was a man of action. He wasn't going to just sit around and trust that everything would fall into place. If he could find the bad guy and the rebels before the big party for the Avatar, he'd be damned if he wasn't at least going to try. Recalling the conversation he had overheard from the rebels, he strained to remember details. It made his head hurt and his ears ring, but Sokka squinted his eyes and tried harder.

The assassin had been put into place months ago. That meant that he could eliminate any potential suspects that had begun working at the palace outside of a…let's see, 10 month to 1 month past range. He would need to find out how to go about identifying those individuals who fit that description, and how he could go about interviewing each one. Since it seemed that most of the staff that started at the same time tended to form a clique, it made sense to interview everyone—both male and female—in the event that someone may have noticed something strange about one of their coworkers. He was just going to have to hope that if Zhen happened to be among those he interviewed, there would be some inconsistency or some slip-up and he could wrap up this part of the rebel problem sooner rather than after it was too late. Even when they captured Zhen (and he was determined it would be 'when' and not 'if') they would need to do something about smoking out the rest of the group.

Sokka nodded to himself and relaxed his shoulders. He felt better now that he knew he was going to be taking some action, but he was still absolutely lost on what to do about his fight with Zuko. His friend hadn't returned while he was sleeping, not that Sokka was particularly surprised. If he had been on the receiving end of such harsh words and in such a public setting, he sure wouldn't be crawling back to his friend any time soon either. It was up to him to make amends.

Too bad a beer and a nice slab of meat wouldn't work. It warmed his own heart just thinking about it. He'd just have to come up with something else while he spoke to the palace staff about getting some food in his stomach.

Wrinkling his nose at the prospect of having to put back on his sweaty, dirty clothes from earlier, he slipped on the pants with a healthy dose of reluctance and decided to raid Zuko's closet for a loaner. Tiptoeing back out, he mouthed a silent 'thanks' again to the healers when it seemed that the strength that had returned to his legs wasn't just a fluke. He padded across the room and looked around for a wardrobe. Frowning, he peered around every corner and eyeballed every piece of furniture. The room was totally devoid of any sort of trunk or closet or even a pile of dirty clothes. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied a thin door nestled between a small wall-table and a tapestry. On a whim, he opened it.

Hot damn! There certainly were perks to being the Fire Lord. This wardrobe wasn't even a wardrobe…it was a shrine to Fire Lord clothing. It made Zuko's ridiculous bathroom pale in comparison—it was positively gargantuan. And surprise, surprise—there were only about four different outfits. He almost felt sorry…for the freaking tailors. He could barely patch up his own pants, having to make this many of the same shirt would have surely made him suicidal.

He shook his head and made his way past the formal wear towards Zuko's more casual training outfits. Picking one at random, he caught a glimpse of something to his right. There was a small cluster of rather…unique robes shoved towards the back. Doing a double take, his cheeks blew out and he had to swallow a guffaw—no wonder Zuko favored the other four or five outfits, if this was what he had to choose from! Some of the clothes were utterly hilarious. Grinning broadly, he pictured himself spending endless hours teasing Zuko mercilessly. Sokka's smile faded.

With a renewed sense of purpose, he quickly shucked his pants and shrugged on the pair of loose trousers, undershirt and the tunic that he had pilfered from the closet. They were all a little baggy since Zuko was a bit taller and broader around the shoulders, but after fiddling with the cinch and belt he was able to keep anything from falling down or off. He returned to the room and contemplated Iroh's sleeping figure. He could either wake the old man up, or he could grab one of the guards to accompany him to his room. The decision was almost instantaneous.

The problem was—how did he wake up Iroh? He certainly couldn't goof around with him like he did with Zuko. A brilliant plan flashed into his mind. After a brief word with the guard at the door and a short five-minute wait, Sokka made his way back over to Iroh with his magical elixir. Wafting the jasmine tea under Iroh's nose was like watching the Unagi scent blood in the water. It was almost scary when Iroh's eyes snapped open.

"Aaaah, Jasmine Tea! Sokka, you know how to make this old man happy!" Iroh closed his eyes and breathed in the gentle fumes deeply.

"It's your reward Uncle Iroh, for sleeping on the job." Iroh had the decency to look a bit chagrined, but he took the cup of tea anyway. Sokka smiled. "You probably needed that nap as much as I did, huh? So…Zuko didn't come back at all while I was asleep, did he." It was more of a statement than a question, and Iroh glanced at Sokka before shaking his head minutely.

"No. He did not. But give him time, Sokka. This has been very stressful on you both."

"Yeah, I know." Sokka couldn't keep all of the gloom out of his reply. "I just wish I could wave a hand and everything would be o.k. again." He got up and walked to the balcony while Iroh finished his tea. They shared a companionable silence for a few minutes before Iroh got up and joined him. They stood side by side looking out on the palace grounds.

"I see you are feeling much better. You must thank the healers for such quick work. Please take care not to push yourself." Sokka nodded his agreement. He filled Iroh in on his thoughts from earlier, and Iroh agreed to accompany him on his errands. His only condition was that Sokka had to take it easy as much as needed and would rest immediately upon feeling fatigued. After making a few arrangements to meet with the Head of Palace Staff, they set out for Sokka's room. Although he knew they were necessary, Sokka couldn't help but feel uncomfortable at the two guards that trekked behind them shadowing their every move. They were friendly guys, but it seriously felt like they had stalkers—he could now appreciate Aang's pain of dealing with his fan club wherever he went.

Leaving the two guards posted at the door, Iroh and Sokka entered the room. He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but Sokka was a little disconcerted to find his room in perfect order. It was like nothing had happened at all. Iroh walked over to the bathroom, assuring Sokka he would be right back and Sokka gave him an absentminded nod before turning away. He wandered into the middle of the chamber and crouched down, frowning. Fragments of memory from that agonizing night flashed back into his memory. Searching the floor with his eyes, Sokka wasn't really sure what he was looking for, but he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something he was missing.

His room was smaller than Zuko's but comfortable. He had really tried to bring a little bit of the Water Tribe with him when he had joined the Fire Lord's counsel, and his decorations reflected this. Pelts and handmade rugs were scattered around on the ground. His armor was polished and resting in a trunk decorated with Water Tribe paintings that depicted legends and myths that had been passed down for generations. Tapestries and cloth in silver, black, brown and myriad shades of blue hung from the walls, making the room an oasis from the blinding red that dominated most of the Fire Nation rooms. Sokka's heart settled a little. The familiarity of these surroundings that reminded him of home had a calming effect. He sat back on his heels.

Sokka was about to stand back up when he noticed something half-tucked under the bed. It was a small package wrapped in a silky red gray cloth. Crawling forward on his hands and knees, he picked it up and studied it. There were two series of twine ties wrapped around the cloth, securing it tightly. Picking at the knots until they loosened, he pulled the string off and let the cloth slip off. The cool material glided past his fingers and he found himself looking down at the silver arm band. It must have been thrown to the side in the mayhem. The amber eyes of the dragon seemed to wink at him while he cupped it in his hands. This little trinket had set off the entire chain of events, if he really thought about it.

He had mixed feelings about the events it had set into place. On the one hand, he never would have found out about the rebels if he hadn't been chasing the old lady. On the other hand, he wouldn't have had the golden opportunity to learn what true agony felt like if he'd never seen the dragon or the jewelry stand. "I don't know whether to give you to Zuko or to throw you off the balcony." He muttered.

"That would never do." A voice murmured beside his ear.

Whipping around, Sokka dropped the bracelet and went for the short sword he had pilfered from Zuko's collection. His body ached at the quick movement. He was recovering, but there was such a thing as too much too soon. Still on the alert, he crouched low and looked around for the owner of the voice. There was no one.

Iroh chose that moment to come out of the bathroom. Fiddling with his belt and singing happily to himself, he skidded to a halt when he saw Sokka. They froze in place and stared at each other for a moment. "Sokka," Iroh said cautiously, "perhaps you are not feeling well. Maybe you should put the sword down?"

Flushing with embarrassment, Sokka released his death grip on the sword. He was becoming way too paranoid. Recalling what he had been doing, he snatched the bracelet off the floor and re-wrapped it in the cloth. He pocketed it quietly.

"Sorry, Iroh. Just thought I heard something." He gave an awkward laugh. "Guess I'm a little jumpy." Iroh nodded and smiled but Sokka could tell he was a little worried. Sokka turned away and began puttering in his wardrobe, but he wasn't doing much more than pushing the clothes around. He just needed a second to look away from Iroh and think. He could have sworn he wasn't imagining things. Sokka was almost positive he'd really heard a voice just then. Mechanically, he started to go around gathering his things, stuffing them into a seal-hide pack. He almost cried in relief when he found his stash of candied sea prunes. Popping one in his mouth, he was chewing happily and snagging a few last-minute items when one of the guards slipped in and whispered something to Iroh. Sokka watched surreptitiously as Iroh frowned. After a moment he nodded and dismissed the guard. Quickly shoving in a last item -a stone and soft cloth for sharpening swords, he made a bee-line for the old general.

"What's up, Iroh? Something going on?" He mumbled around another candied sea prune.

"Well Sokka, it seems we miscalculated." Sokka's blood froze cold. "There may not be enough jasmine tea for all of our guests at the party." His eyes rolled before he could stop them. He had been seriously freaked out for a second there. "Oh, and it seems like the young Fire Lord may be a little angrier than we originally suspected. He has made some slight…modifications to the guard detail." Sokka coughed to keep from choking as the prune he'd been swallowing caught in his throat.

"What changes?" He gasped out between the powerful thumps Iroh was giving his back.

"Ah yes, well it seems he has decided that it would be in the best interest of both safety and security if you were to remain here in your room with a separate guard. He believes the assassin will have a more difficult time if two of the prime targets are not in the same location. Sokka, you need to speak to him before you two travel any farther down this path. A small seed can take root and grow into a worrisome weed if one does not take care of it." Sokka had been only half-listening. Iroh's earlier words going in circles through his head. His body ran hot and cold. He couldn't tell if he was furious or terrified for his friendship.

Without a word, Sokka abruptly turned away from Iroh. Yanking open the door, he dropped his sack at the entrance beside one of the guards. In a tightly controlled voice, he asked one to take his bag to Zuko's room. Turning his attention to the other guard, he asked politely to be escorted to where the Fire Lord was currently working. The guards shared an uncertain glance before reluctantly doing as he had asked.

The walk to the wing of the palace with the conference and gathering rooms was tense and silent. Sokka was peripherally aware of Iroh following behind. After what seemed like ages, they finally arrived and Sokka breathed a sigh of relief. It was hard to keep up this tough act when his body was starting to ache. It was still only the second day and he had already moved around so much—he knew he would be feeling this later. The attendant at the door entered before them and announced their presence. They walked in on what seemed like an impromptu meeting of political and economic advisors. Sokka recalled that Zuko had probably let a lot of work and worries accumulate while attending Sokka. He exchanged curt nods with the other advisors. Everyone seemed to wear identical signs of stress, likely due to increased burdens of duties they were all shouldering for the time being.

They were all gathered around a large wooden table with various papers, documents, quills and the like scattered around. Everyone was looking at him expectantly. Zuko stared at him with no expression and raised an eyebrow as if to say 'Yes? What brings you here?' Sokka wanted to wipe that look off his face. That was the look he gave strangers. And small, annoying children.

"Fire Lord Zuko? A private word with you, please?" he spoke through his teeth as he smiled tightly. He could feel his face stretching and aching. From the horrified looks on Zuko the advisors, it was probably stretching out some of his bruises in fairly gruesome ways. It was a miracle the skinny little economics and planning advisor from the third district hadn't gagged or something yet—he seemed to have a rather weak constitution.

"By all means, Ambassador Sokka. I am certain I'll be very happy to speak with you, although as you can see we are rather busy at the moment. Is it something you can share with us all right now?" Zuko's eyes seemed to challenge him. Sokka sucked in a breath and mustered up all of the false politeness he had in his meager arsenal.

"I do apologize, Fire Lord Zuko. I realize you are a very busy man. A very important man. I'm so sorry I had to demand a moment of your time like this. We can certainly discuss this in front of your advisors if you truly wish—although it is a delicate matter." He made his way over to Zuko, who nodded and pointedly looked back down at the stack of maps depicting some of the outer villages that was lying in front of him. "I wasn't aware that you were so comfortable with your advisors knowing about that time when you and Toph had that competition after eating those Fire Chili spiced beans—I mean, I can still remember the sound of-" Zuko's eyes flew wide open. He shot out of his chair and slapped a hand across Sokka's mouth.

"Thank you, gentlemen. This was a very productive day. Unfortunately, I think our friend Sokka here must be a little tired from pushing himself so hard. I'll see to it that he is taken care of. In the meantime, we should all retire for the rest of the afternoon and regroup tomorrow. Thank you for your hard work." He smiled and nodded his goodbyes as the advisors shuffled out, but he kept his hand firmly clamped on Sokka's mouth. Sokka smirked underneath Zuko's warm fingers. Soon enough, it was just Iroh, three guards and the two of them left in the room. To Sokka's surprise, Zuko didn't move his hand. "Iroh, if it is not too much trouble, do you think you could handle the meeting I have planned with the Inventory and Supplies Committee in half an hour? There are some documents to review in the third conference room regarding grain."

"It would be an honor to assist you, Lord Zuko." Iroh lowered his head then looked back at Sokka's face. His gaze lingered for a moment before he winked and turned, leaving the room abruptly.

"Guards, please wait outside. I would appreciate it if you did not have anyone disturb us while Sokka shares his…concerns."

Within moments they were completely alone. Zuko waited a few seconds after the door had closed before dropping his hand and whirling on Sokka. He blew up. "What the HELL was that about?"

"Oh, I dunno. Just saw your face and thought about some of the good times. I remember there were some other failed experiments with food other than that one. Man, it was hard to live with both you and Toph some days." He idly flicked a paper that had been left behind with his finger.

"That's not what—damn it Sokka, I know what you're here about." Zuko glared at him and stalked around the head of the table. Sokka whistled.

"Well. That's an impressive new skill. Would you call that mind-bending? No, that sounds too much like a night on the town with cactus juice. How about head-bending? Too gruesome?" he flopped into a chair with his arm hanging over the back and sprawled out his legs.

"I'm leaving, Sokka. If you're not even going to take this conversation that you wanted seriously, then I have nothing more to say right now."

Zuko jumped in surprise when Sokka slammed his hands on the table. "Do NOT dismiss me like I'm just one of your underlings, Zuko!" he roared. Leaning forward, Sokka stared at him, all traces of humor gone. "You can't just make a decision like that without even ASKING me!"

"Now you know how I felt!" Zuko shouted back, getting equally fired up. "Did you really think it was o.k. to just ignore my opinion? Doesn't feel very good to be left out, now does it." With an angry swipe, he backhanded a stack of papers and sent them fluttering up into the air.

"Zuko! These are two different things! At least I TOLD you my plans beforehand! I had to find out from IROH! Do you know how much of a damn idiot I felt like when I realized that the guards knew before I did?" As they yelled at each other, they had started working their way around the edge of the table until they stood face to face, a few feet apart. Candles were flaring up wildly, adding to the frenzy of their argument.

"Oh, so is that it? Is that the REAL reason you're mad? Because it was someone else's plan? Real mature, Sokka." The heat was rolling off of Zuko. Sokka fisted his hands in the front of his robes and yanked him til there were only inches between them.

"Zuko you fire-bending idiot, that's NOT IT." Sokka was shouting at the top of his lungs. "DAMN IT ZUKO, BEING AWAY FROM YOU HAS BEEN AGONY." Once the words popped out, Sokka snapped his mouth shut. Zuko, on the other hand, couldn't seem to close his and stood there, mouth agape.

Dammit, what the hell was he saying? But it seemed like once he started spewing his emotions like verbal vomit, he couldn't stop. Which was funny, because he hadn't even known his own feelings until about five seconds earlier. Wearily, he dropped his head and loosened his grip on Zuko's front. "Ugh. You just don't get it. Every moment you weren't there, it was torture. I couldn't stop thinking about how something could be happening and I wouldn't even know it. I wouldn't be there to stop it. Then, I get some bullshit message that we're going to go solo! Like, it was so easy for you to just separate yourself, but Zuko I can't—I can't stop worrying about you. Even my plan, all I can think about is how this is the only way I can come up with to try and keep you safe. You just, you mean so much, if anything happened…and there was nothing I could do…I've been an ass and I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I guess I was just trying to force you into letting me protect you. I was desperate." He released Zuko completely and collapsed into a chair. Doubled over, he rested his elbows on his knees and covered his face with his hands.

Sokka's voice came out shaky but certain. "I really, really care about you. If anything ever happened to you, I would break."

He didn't hear a response for a long time. Just when he thought he may not hear one at all, Zuko let out a immense sigh and he felt rather than saw him when he crouched in front of Sokka's chair. After another moment, Sokka found himself tumbling out of the chair and into a giant hug.

"I better watch out. Stupidity is contagious. I've been an asshole, too. I'm sorry, Sokka. I was doing the exact same thing. I guess we're both overprotective bastards, huh?" Sokka let out a watery chuckle. He was surprised to find that his cheeks were damp. His overwhelming relief had found an outlet as hot tears. They remained kneeling there for a long time, both unwilling to let the moment go too quickly. Zuko's body felt firm and it felt good to hug him. Sokka tightened his arms. Zuko's tightened in response. Their grips were so fierce they were out of breath and it almost seemed like they were in a competition to see who could hold out the longest. They shared a breathless chuckle. "You tool, you're going to break my back." They didn't let go though, and Zuko relentlessly tightened his arms again.

Sokka wasn't sure when the embrace changed, but at some point he was suddenly aware of the intense heat. He couldn't tell if it was coming from himself or from Zuko, but his skin felt like it was on fire wherever they were touching. His face felt hot and he was breathless, but not from being squeezed. Zuko's arms slid lower, down to his waist and Sokka's heart thumped. With a jolt, he broke the hug and sprang away. Laughing a little loudly, he sat back on his heels and rubbed the back of his head. "Guess I lost. You've got a tight grip, dude." Anything, anything, anything, they need to talk about something so that Zuko wouldn't see Sokka's momentary distress.

Zuko smirked. "Of course. I train every day. If you came to the lessons more regularly, you'd know that it is a traditional and honorable use of time for royalty to train our bodies and our minds." His eyes got big, "Oh spirits, I didn't hurt you, did I? How are you feeling?" He blinked. Damn. He had totally forgotten about his injuries—he'd been completely swept along by the moment.

"Actually, I'm feeling pretty good." He responded with a certain amount of wonder in his voice. "I'm even walking around fine, today. I think I'll make a full recovery a lot sooner than we had hoped."

"You look like shit." Zuko's voice was frank and monotone.

"You certainly have a way with words. You would never make it as an inspirational speaker."

He shrugged. "I agree. On so many levels."

Sokka felt himself relaxing. Their normal banter was comforting in two ways. One, it meant that things were back to normal between the two of them. They still had some issues to deal with and maybe some compromises to make, but they were communicating. It felt like they were closer to understanding each other's feelings than they had been for a while. It also distracted him from whatever it was that had just happened.

"Oh, I almost forgot. We found Space Sword Junior. Some pawn vendor was trying to hawk it in the streets in one of the cheap districts." The cheap districts were a cluster of districts around the city that were notorious for being places that you could buy high-quality merchandise for suspiciously low prices. Probably due to the fact that most of the items were stolen. Or illegal. Or both. Sokka's gaze sharpened at his words, though.

"Which one?"

"District 3, I think." Sokka nodded and filed the information away for later plotting. If they had sold off his things like the space sword version two that were that conspicuous, they were probably long gone from the area by now—but that wouldn't stop him from looking into it. He stood up and held his hand out to Zuko. The Fire Lord took it gratefully and hopped to his feet. Dusting themselves off, they bumped shoulders. Neither one of them wanted to break contact, and they began to awkwardly pick up the strewn papers while constantly finding ways to 'accidentally' touch each other, as if to reassure themselves that the other boy was still there.

"Spirits! I almost forgot! I um, I got you something." Now that the time had come to finally give his friend his gift, he felt unusually shy about it. He told himself there was absolutely no reason to be—it was just a friend giving a friend a gift. A friend that made his heart thump. Sokka shook his head to clear the tangled thoughts that had just invaded his mind. He couldn't think about that hug without his body feeling hot, and it was frustrating and confusing. Focusing on the present moment, he reached into his tunic and dug out the small gray package.

"By the way, are you wearing my clothes?" Sokka glanced down at himself. He hadn't taken the time to change when he'd been in his room earlier.

"Huh. Yeah, I guess. By the way," he had to swallow back a laugh, "you, um, you planning on giving me a fashion show sometime?" He could barely finish the sentence with a straight face. From the horrified look on Zuko's face, he knew exactly which outfits Sokka was referring to.

"You will forget that you ever saw those. That is an order," he said as he took the package out of Sokka's outstretched hand. He eagerly untied the string that Sokka had carefully re-bundled it in. He looked like a little kid on his birthday. Sokka tried to wipe the uncontrollable grin off his face, but it kept coming back. Finally, the package was open and Zuko was staring at the arm band, wide eyed and speechless. "It's beautiful," he whispered reverently. Zuko's pyrotechnics from their earlier outburst had caused most of the candles to burn down to only a few inches. In the dim candlelight, flames danced on the scales of the dragon and an inner fire seemed to spark and ricochet in the glittering eyes of the dragon. He fingered the intricate detail on the feet and the whiskers coming off the dragon's muzzle. "It looks just like one of the real ones." He clasped it tightly in his hands. Zuko quickly glanced up at Sokka then back down. "Um, thank you, Sokka," he mumbled. Sokka couldn't tell in the dim lighting, but he could have sworn Zuko's face was red. Damn. This reaction was even better than he'd imagined. His chest went ba-thump again.

In desperation, he turned to sarcasm. "Well, feel free to shower me with gifts and adoration as a sign of your eternal gratitude of my thoughtfulness."

"As if I would." Zuko laughed and punched him in the shoulder. Rather than dodge, Sokka caught the fire-bender's fist before it made contact. He knew he should have let it go immediately, but instead he held onto it. The hand felt hot and dry in Sokka's palm. He was sure his own skin probably felt like it was burning up. The smile wavered and then slipped off of Zuko's face as they looked at each other. Sokka's heart was pounding like mad now, and he was on the verge of realizing something, something important. This feeling was familiar, but it was like his mind was refusing to work, like it didn't want to help him understand. "Sokka?" Zuko asked uncertainly. His tongue darted out to lick his lips nervously and Sokka's eyes honed in as it made a swipe across the bottom.

All Sokka heard was a loud bang and the next thing he knew, he was contemplating the rafters of the ceiling rather than Zuko's mouth. As he studied the sweeping arches high up above him, he drummed his fingers on his chest as new pains blossomed on his shoulders and his butt. After enough injuries, all pain started to feel the same. Sokka was beginning to decide he couldn't be bothered to feel pain any more—it was getting to be a waste of time. One thing was for certain, though—Zuko had GREAT reflexes. That kick had come out of nowhere—he wouldn't have seen it coming from a mile away. It had been a knee-jerk reaction to Iroh's sudden and startling entrance.

"Shit! Sokka! I am SO sorry! It was just an accident! Uncle, why the hell do you feel the need to barge in on people like that?" Zuko stood over him and Sokka took the proffered hand. He all but creaked to his feet. An almost profound sense of relief swept over him. That kick and Iroh's presence had snapped him out of whatever weird moment he and Zuko had just been sharing. Something strange had woken up inside him, and he needed time to think about what it all meant.

"No worries, Iroh. It's all good." They both gave him a dubious look as he wheezed and clutched his ribs where Zuko's foot had connected and sent him flying. He hunched over and waved a hand at them. "I'm fine, I'm fine." Lowering his head so they couldn't see his face, he let his eyes roll into the back of his head. Damn, Zuko packed a hell of a kick.

"Nephew, Sokka, I am sorry for surprising you." Funny. His voice didn't sound very repentant. "Zuko, what is that you have? That is something strange," Iroh eyeballed the gray bundle that Zuko was clutching containing the silver armband. Sokka and Zuko both focused on Iroh with questioning faces.

"What do you mean?" Sokka asked.

"May I?" Reluctantly, Zuko let Iroh pry it out of his fingers. Iroh smiled patiently at him and began studying the dragon with a pleasant face. After a moment, his smile faded and became deadly serious. "Zuko, where did you get this?" He turned the dragon over in his hands again and again, as if to verify that it really was there.

"It was a gift…from Sokka."

"The package you received the night you were harmed?" Iroh looked sharply at Sokka. He nodded hesitantly. He wasn't sure where Iroh was going with this, but he was getting a bad feeling.

"I bought it—well I didn't really buy it, she never took any payment at least—from a little old street vendor lady. Why?"

"Sokka, this is important. What did she look like?" Iroh laid a heavy hand on his shoulder and he shot a desperate glance towards Zuko. Had he messed up again? He realized he hadn't mentioned the ruby heart. This was definitely not the time to bring that strange quirk up, based on Iroh's behavior.

"Well, I mean she was tiny and old, but she had a really clear voice—it almost sounded like silver too, you know, and well, she moved really fast." That was a pretty lame description. He tried really hard to recall other details. She had been so fragile-looking but all he could remember was huffing and puffing as he ate her dust. "She had a really old-fashioned way of speaking, too" he added thoughtfully.

"And you ran into the rebels after chasing her, correct?" Sokka nodded. "And you discovered Sokka when the armband was brought to his room, correct?" Zuko nodded. "Did anything happen when you gave him the armband, Sokka?" Both boys practically shouted "No!" at the same time. Iroh's face screwed up like he'd eaten a lemon before he finally let out a giant sigh and shoved the armband back into Zuko's surprised hands. "Hn. Well, you had better wear it, then." Looking heavenward, he gave another great sigh, "Oh spirits, why must my nephew always get involved in these types of things?" The boys shared a bewildered look.

"Iroh," Sokka said slowly. "What's going on?"

Iroh stared at him for a moment before turning and starting towards the door. After a moment's pause, both boys rushed to catch up with him. It was a few more seconds before he began talking. "Sokka, my friend. I do not know what you did to catch her attention, but that was not an old lady. Zuko, put on the armband. It would not be wise to refuse her gifts. Whatever happens from here on out, I for one will be certain that the spirits—that that spirit—had a hand in it."