Chapter Text
The first time it happened, Sokka was a little alarmed.
Earlier that night he had fallen asleep with his arms full of toasty warm firebender. Now, not only was his personal heater gone but the room itself was much colder. A frigid breeze gusted over his bare torso and Sokka shivered, twisting to find the source of the frankly rude air.
The window was open.
Now, Sokka could rationalize Zuko getting up in the middle of the night (even firelords had to pee), but Zuko being gone and the window being open? That didn’t sit right with him.
After all, it wasn’t that long ago that some ballsy idiots from the colonies had tried to sneak into the palace and leave with Zuko’s head. They were behind bars now of course, but it had been way too close for anyone’s comfort.
Sokka slowly sat up from the bed and tugged on a shirt.
His eyes darted to the wall where his sword was mounted, calculating how long it would take him to cross the room and grab it if the need arose, and his eyes caught on the empty space above it. The empty space that usually held Zuko’s dao.
Okay, that was three concerning things, if you were counting. (he was) No Zuko, open window, missing deadly weapons.
He got up, grabbed his sword, and fell into a defensive position. Just in case.
The Fire Lord’s chambers didn’t have many places to hide, but still Sokka investigated every nook and cranny, making sure he was out of any sight lines from the window. Nothing. Deeming the space safe for the time being he approached the window at an angle and positioned himself to the side of it.
Heart beating like a drum in his chest, Sokka peered carefully around the edge of the window frame. The familiar view of the roof below sat still and silent. The gardens and the turtle duck pond below were peaceful. Tranquil even. Sokka’s gaze remained sharp.
There, at the edge of the far rooftop was a flash of silver. It darted out of sight quick as a fish.
Sokka’s grip on the handle of his sword tightened. He slipped through the window, dropping the three or so feet from the window sill to the shingled roof. Whoever was out there wasn’t going to get far.
He crept along the steep angle, keeping his head low so he wouldn’t be spotted.
As he reached the ledge where he had seen the person, he scanned his surroundings for movement.
There, another flash of silver and a blur of dark fabric slipping over the palace wall. The guards patrolling the ramparts didn’t even flinch. Sokka made a mental note to mention that to Ming the next time he saw her.
If he followed the path the figure took, it was alarmingly easy to get past the guards. Yeah, there would definitely have to be some change in the patrol routes.
On this side of the palace, the opposite end to the main entrance, over the wall there wasn’t much. A lot of bamboo, an overgrown dirt road, and some rabbit-deer paths. A little ways down the wall there was a small door with a portcullis that kitchen servants would use to transport food and supplies from Caldera city to the palace. It looked like it was seldom used.
Crouching to the ground, Sokka inspected the dirt road. The person had wisely kept to stepping on patches of grass rather than the damp earth to hide their footprints, but Sokka was a skilled hunter and they obviously didn’t expect to be followed, which made them sloppy. The path led alongside the dirt road to Caldera city.
Sokka stood, wincing slightly as his bare feet shifted in the dirt. Second mental note: when chasing down a possible assassin in the middle of the night through back roads, bring shoes.
It didn’t take long to reach the city. When the dirt road shifted into cobbles he noticed that the figure’s movements became even more difficult to track. They stuck to shadows where lantern light didn’t reach, choosing routes that minimized visibility. Now that they were in a populated area, they were choosing to be more stealthy. This was obviously no common thief. Whoever they were, they knew what they were doing and moved like they planned not to be seen.
The trail led right into the side of a stucco building with a low sloping roof and disappeared. Sokka furrowed his brow.
He looked closer at the last pair of footprints. They were very faint, but there was a slight depression where the balls of the feet would have been, almost like they-
Jumped. Sokka turned his gaze to the low roof. Sure enough, the faintest smudge of soil from the road, less than the width of his thumb, sat on the edge of the shingles. They would have to have a lot of upper body strength to haul themselves up to a roof above head height.
The list in his head grew. Stealthy, smart, experienced, strong, agile. This wasn’t looking good.
Securing his sword in the ties of his shirt, Sokka caught the ledge and clambered onto the roof as quietly as he could. Spirits, this guy was strong if they managed that without leaving any evidence of a struggle. It was at times like these that Sokka envied Aang for his ability to hop weightlessly onto any surface he wanted.
He straightened and pulled out his sword again, making sure to keep his body between it and any firelight so the glare wouldn’t give him away.
From up here he had a much better view. Dozens of roofs packed tightly together spread out before him. His eyes caught on another flash of movement a few houses away. Silver and dark fabric.
Sokka hurried to catch up before he lost them. The red shingled roofs weren’t exactly easy to run on but, in a rare instance of luck, being barefoot actually was an advantage here. On clay he had better grip and maneuverability than he would have had with his boots. Silver linings.
He hopped over several alleyways until he reached a much wider, flatter rooftop than most. Probably some rich merchant’s apartment judging by the dragon ornamentation on the gables. The roof overlooked a bustling marketplace about three stories below, still open despite the late hour. The figure was crouched next to the carved wooden dragon looking down at it and Sokka finally got a good look at them.
They had a lean build obscured by an all-black outfit. They wore a blue oni mask and had two very familiar looking dao blades strapped to their back.
Sokka’s grip tightened on his sword and he yelled from the other end of the roof, “It’s not nice to take things that aren’t yours.”
The figure whipped around, drawing their swords in a flash. Then they sort of… deflated.
“Sokka? What are you doing?” the figure hissed in a raspy voice.
A very familiar raspy voice.
Sokka’s brain buffered, then rebooted.
“What… Zuko?! What am I doing? I thought you were an assassin!” Sokka sputtered incredulously.
“No, idiot.” Zuko tugged up his mask to reveal his face.
“Well, forgive me for mistaking you for one given that you were sneaking around in the dark around our open window wearing a mask with two very sharp swords.”
Zuko’s mouth flattened into a flat line and he looked away.
“What are you even doing out here?” Sokka asked, “I feel like I deserve to know given that you scared the spirits out of me.”
Zuko bristled, “you came running after me with a sword!”
Sokka crossed the space between them and rapped his knuckles on Zuko’s head, “that is so not the point right now and you know it, Fire Lord Jerkface.”
Zuko huffed and dropped down onto the roof’s ridge, boots scraping softly against tile. He stared out at the marketplace below.
“I just…” His shoulders lifted and fell. “I just wanted to not be the Fire Lord for a while.”
Sokka sat beside him. He brushed their shoulders, silently encouraging him.
Zuko picked at a loose thread on his sleeve.
“Every day it’s meetings and petitions and people telling me what I’m doing wrong,” he muttered. “I can’t walk down a hallway without some general demanding my attention.” His fingers curled into his palm.
“I feel like I’m being watched all the time. Like if I stop paying attention for even a second, everything’s going to fall apart and it’ll be my fault.”
He swallowed.
“You know, the staff still flinch sometimes when they see me out of the corner of their eyes. I guess I look too much like… him.”
Sokka felt his heart break a little. He leaned into Zuko like he could press his love and care into him through their shoulders. Zuko pressed back, just a little. He reached up and grabbed the mask from where it sat on his head. He turned it in his hands until it faced him.
“I used to wear a mask like this back when I was still hunting you. I used it to do some things I’m not proud of. I stole from people. I hurt people.”
He sighed. “The Blue Spirit. It’s a character from Love Amongst The Dragons. He’s actually the villain in the story. Maybe that’s fitting.” He laughed without mirth and ran his thumb along the edge of the wood where the blue paint was chipped slightly. “When we were kids, Azula always got to be the hero. The Dragon Emperor. I was always the Blue Spirit.
I think deep down I’ve always wanted to give the character a reason to be good. I keep coming out here because…” He frowned at the mask like it had personally betrayed him. “Because it’s easier to be him than me sometimes. I can pretend I’m just some… nobody in the dark. Not the Fire Lord. Not my father’s son.
And maybe if I do enough good things with this face on,” he said softly, “it’ll balance out the bad ones.”
He finally glanced sideways at Sokka, jaw tight.
Sokka sighed and let his head drop to Zuko’s shoulder. His hand found Zuko’s and he laced their fingers together.
“Could you not have done that without convincing me that you had been kidnapped by an assassin?”
Zuko huffed a laugh and his shoulders loosened. His head came to rest on top of Sokka’s. “Next time I’ll leave a note.”
Sokka let out a humph. A stiff breeze blew over the rooftops and he shivered, reminded of his state of undress. “I’ll consider forgiving you if you carry me home. I came valiantly chasing after you barefoot after all.”
Zuko lifted an eyebrow at him, “I’m not carrying you down a rooftop.”
Sokka crossed his arms and turned up his nose, “then I guess you don’t love me.”
Zuko laughed. He rose to his feet and extended a hand. “I love you enough to not drop you thirty feet onto hard concrete. I didn’t make you go without shoes.”
Sokka took his hand with a grin, “then I guess you’ll have to make it up to me another way.”
“Oh?”
Sokka grabbed Zuko’s wrist and started marching him back the way they came.
“Eight solid hours of sleep, then cuddles til noon,” he declared imperiously.
Zuko stumbled to catch up to Sokka’s pace, nearly slipping off the roof in the process.
“Sokka, I have three meetings before noon, I can’t stay in bed for that long,” he spluttered.
Sokka continued his march, unslowed by Zuko’s stumbling.
“Nope. You’ve lost Fire Lording privileges. They’ll just have to wait.”