Chapter Text
The ship rocked gently over the cold, rolling waves, the Southern Water Tribe coming into view on the horizon. The air smelled crisp and salty, a far cry from the warm embers and spice of the Fire Nation.
Zuko stood near the railing, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, eyes fixed on the distant ice-covered land. He wasn’t shivering from the cold—no, that he could handle. He was shivering because his heart was pounding in a way he couldn’t control, and for once , it had nothing to do with battle or politics.
Behind him, Sokka emerged from the cabin, stretching his arms with a yawn before catching sight of Zuko’s posture. He grinned. Oh, this is going to be fun.
“You know,” Sokka said casually, walking up beside him, “if you keep standing like that, people are gonna think you’re about to launch a full-scale invasion.”
Zuko exhaled sharply, casting him a side-glare . “I’m not tense.”
Sokka snorted. “Sure. And my dad is super chill when it comes to me dating people he didn’t used to fight in a war.”
Zuko let out a noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan, running a hand down his face. “You’re really helping, Sokka.”
Sokka smirked, leaning against the railing. “What can I say? I’m an amazing fiancé.”
Zuko hesitated, his fingers gripping the railing a little tighter. Fiancé. He loved that word. He loved what it meant. But right now, all he could think about was Hakoda’s reaction to hearing it for the first time.
Zuko inhaled slowly, his voice quieter when he finally spoke. “What if… what if he doesn’t approve?”
Sokka blinked at him, his grin fading into something softer. “Zuko…”
“I mean, he respects me—at least, I think he does—but that’s not the same thing as wanting me to marry his son .” Zuko’s brows furrowed, his golden eyes dark with doubt. “What if he thinks I’m a terrible choice? What if he tells you not to be with me?”
Sokka frowned, turning fully to face him. “Hey. First of all, nobody tells me who to be with. That’s my choice.” His hand found Zuko’s, squeezing it firmly. “Second? You’re not a terrible choice. My dad’s just… traditional about some things.”
Zuko still didn’t look convinced. “Traditional as in ‘I have a lot to prove before he sees me as worthy’ or traditional as in ‘he’s going to challenge me to a warrior’s duel and possibly try to kill me’?”
Sokka tilted his head, considering. “Mmmm… fifty-fifty?”
Zuko groaned again, and Sokka laughed , reaching up to cup the sides of
Zuko’s face. “Hey, look at me ,” he said, waiting for Zuko to meet his eyes.
“You’re going to be fine. My dad’s going to have feelings about this, yeah, but he’s also not an idiot. And he’ll see how much I love you. That’s gonna count for something.”
Zuko swallowed, staring into those familiar, steady blue eyes—the ones that had anchored him so many times before . He let out a slow breath.
“You really think so?”
Sokka grinned. “Babe. I know so.”
Zuko exhaled, leaning into Sokka’s touch, his hands covering Sokka’s.
“You’re way too confident about this.”
Sokka smirked. “Yeah, well, one of us has to be.”
Zuko rolled his eyes, but his chest felt lighter now, the worry not gone , but manageable . Because no matter how this went, no matter what Hakoda said, Sokka was his .
Sokka pulled back, giving him one last playful nudge. “Now, let’s go break the news to my dad before some random Southern Water Tribe elder does it for us.”
Zuko let out a long breath. “Right. Let’s… let’s do this.”
And together, they turned toward the shore.
The ship had barely docked when Sokka saw them—his father, standing at the head of the gathered Water Tribe, his arms crossed over his broad chest, Bato beside him with the same unreadable but mildly amused expression he always wore. Behind them, the tribe members watched curiously, some murmuring to each other as they spotted the Fire Lord stepping onto their icy shores.
And that was when it hit Sokka.
Oh, spirits.
Oh, spirits, this is actually happening.
His stomach did a weird flip as the realization crashed over him like a rogue wave. He was about to tell his dad—his warrior chief, tough-as-ice, fought-a-war, raised-two-kids-during-a-war dad—that he was not only dating the Fire Lord but engaged to him.
Sokka had planned this moment. He had a whole speech ready. A charming, smooth, foolproof speech that would put his dad at ease, would explain everything in a way that made total sense.
And yet, as soon as Hakoda’s piercing blue gaze locked onto them, all of it evaporated from his brain.
Instead of the confident introduction he’d intended to give, Sokka suddenly felt like he was twelve again, sneaking back into camp after pulling some ridiculous stunt with Aang and expecting a lecture.
“Fire Lord Zuko,” Hakoda greeted, his voice even but laced with curiosity.
“To what do we owe the pleasure?”
This was it. This was the moment. All Sokka had to do was open his mouth, say the words, and—
“We’re traveling together,” he blurted instead, smiling way too wide like some kind of lying maniac. “Yep. Just two guys, traveling. Together. Thought we’d drop by. You know, casually.”
He could feel Zuko turn to look at him, confused , because that was not what they agreed on .
Hakoda raised a brow, glancing between them, clearly sensing something was off. His eyes lingered for a moment—on Sokka’s hand , to be precise.
Oh. Oh no.
The ring .
Sokka cursed internally .
He’d spent so much time freaking out about telling his dad, he hadn’t even considered that maybe, just maybe , the physical evidence of their engagement was already out in the open.
Hakoda’s gaze flickered to Zuko’s hand next. Then back to Sokka. Then back to Zuko. Then back to Sokka .
Oh, spirits, he noticed.
But to Sokka’s relief, his father didn’t say anything. Yet. Instead, he gave a slow nod, though his expression remained thoughtful, suspicious . “I see. Well, it’s always good to have you home, son.”
Sokka let out a laugh that was way too high-pitched . “Yep! Home! That’s me! Your son! Visiting his home with no ulterior motive whatsoever .”
Zuko was staring at him now , and Sokka could practically hear the “Are you serious right now?” energy radiating off of him.
Bato, meanwhile, was definitely trying not to smirk .
“Well,” Hakoda continued, still watching them closely , “you both must be tired from your travels. Go get some rest. We’ll have a feast tonight, and you can tell us all about your, ah… travels .”
Sokka nearly sagged with relief. “Sounds great! Resting! Yep, we love rest.” He turned and practically grabbed Zuko’s sleeve, tugging him toward the village before anything else could slip out of his dumb, panicked mouth .
As soon as they were out of earshot, Zuko hissed under his breath, “What. Was. That?”
Sokka groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I panicked , okay?! Did you see the way he was looking at us? He knows something’s up!”
Zuko folded his arms, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. “Yeah. Probably because we’re both wearing engagement rings, and you just made it super obvious that you’re hiding something.”
Sokka groaned again, more dramatically this time. “I just need to find the right moment , okay? He’s gonna have questions, and I wanna be prepared for them.”
Zuko sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sokka. He’s your dad . He loves you. Maybe you don’t need a perfect speech. Maybe you just need to tell him.”
Sokka huffed, crossing his arms. “Oh, sure. Easy for you to say , Mr. Royal Proclamations All The Time . Some of us weren’t raised making big speeches about our feelings, okay?”
Zuko rolled his eyes, but his expression softened. He reached out, nudging Sokka’s hand with his fingers. “Just… don’t freak yourself out too much, okay?”
Sokka sighed, squeezing Zuko’s hand briefly before pulling away. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll figure it out. Eventually .”
Zuko didn’t say anything. He just gave Sokka a look .
Sokka groaned again.
Tonight. He’d tell him tonight .
Maybe.
If he didn’t die of stress first.
Hakoda watched as his son all but dragged the Fire Lord toward the village, his brows furrowed in obvious confusion.
Beside him, Bato exhaled a quiet chuckle, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well. That was… something.”
Hakoda rubbed a hand over his beard, shaking his head. “What is wrong with that boy?” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
Bato gave him a knowing look. “Isn’t it obvious?”
Hakoda turned to him, his frown deepening. “Enlighten me.”
Bato smirked. “We did hear the rumors before, Hakoda.”
Hakoda’s expression remained unreadable, but he glanced once more at his son’s retreating form. “Rumors are just that—rumors.”
Bato shrugged, tilting his head. “Maybe. But from where I’m standing? It sure looks like more than that.”
Hakoda hummed, thoughtful. He wasn’t sure what to think yet.
“We’ll see,” was all he said.
The staff had led them through the winding paths of the village, past familiar tents and structures reinforced with thick ice, until they reached the guest quarters. The rooms were warm, cozy, lined with pelts and woven Water Tribe designs.
And, of course, there were two of them .
Sokka had expected this—of course his dad’s people would assume that he and Zuko would sleep separately. They weren’t married yet, and
Hakoda probably still thought of him as his baby boy who wouldn’t dare sneak into someone’s room at night.
Which was hilarious , really .
The second the attendants left, Sokka grabbed his stuff and bolted into Zuko’s room, slamming the door shut behind them.
“Welp. Guess I have my own room,” he said breezily, tossing his bag onto the floor and immediately flopping onto the bed. “What a shame that it’ll go completely unused .”
Zuko let out a long-suffering sigh but didn’t argue, instead dropping his own bag and settling onto the bed beside him. “Dinner’s in an hour,” he reminded, rubbing his temples. “Are you ready to tell him?”
Sokka groaned dramatically, rolling onto his stomach. “Nope. Absolutely not .”
“Sokka.”
Sokka buried his face into the pillow. “Just let me die here first.”
Zuko huffed and shoved him lightly. “That’s not an option.”
Sokka lifted his head just enough to peek at him. “Then what is the option? Because my last attempt at telling him went brilliantly .”
Zuko exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe we should take a traditional approach.”
Sokka blinked. “Traditional how?”
Zuko hesitated. “I could ask him for his blessing?”
Sokka sat up so fast that he nearly headbutted Zuko. “ARE YOU INSANE?”
Zuko reeled back slightly. “I mean—”
“No asking for anything,” Sokka cut in , waving his arms wildly. “We’re already engaged ! If we ask him, that means there’s a chance he’ll say no —and if he does , what then?”
Zuko frowned. “Uh. Ignore it?”
Sokka pointed aggressively. “ Exactly ! So we tell him, and we do it with confidence.”
Zuko nodded slowly. “Okay. So how do we tell him?”
Sokka blew out a breath, falling back against the pillows. “Maybe we just… start from the beginning . How it happened. How we…” He hesitated, voice softening. “How we fell in love.”
Zuko was quiet for a moment before he hummed. “Over letters?”
Sokka chuckled. “Yeah. Over letters. Kinda romantic, when you think about it.”
Zuko gave a small, lopsided smile, one that made Sokka’s chest feel way too full . “It was.”
Sokka swallowed, suddenly feeling warm all over. “So we just tell him that. We tell him the truth.”
Zuko shifted closer, brushing his fingers over Sokka’s wrist, and the simple touch made Sokka’s breath hitch. “Yeah,” Zuko murmured. “The truth.”
The room felt quiet in a way that made Sokka’s heart pound. He met Zuko’s gaze, and before either of them could second-guess it, their lips met in a slow, lingering kiss. It was soft, warm— steady .
Sokka sighed into it, one hand slipping up to curl around the back of Zuko’s neck. This. This was home .
And then—
BANG BANG BANG!
A rapid, insistent knock nearly made them both jump out of their skins.
Sokka yelped, scrambling off of Zuko and nearly face-planting off the bed in the process . Zuko caught him at the last second, staring at the door like it might explode .
The knock came again, faster this time. “Sokka! I know you’re in there!”
Sokka’s stomach dropped .
Oh. Oh no .
Zuko blinked. “Is that—?”
“ Katara ,” Sokka whispered in horror.
Zuko barely had time to move before Sokka was practically throwing himself toward the door , yanking it open.
Sure enough, there stood Katara , wrapped in thick Water Tribe furs, grinning like she’d just found the last slice of sea prune stew.
“I knew it!” she said triumphantly, throwing her arms around Sokka before he could process what was happening. “I heard you two arrived, and I ran here.”
Sokka barely managed to return the hug before Katara was pulling back, shifting her attention to Zuko. “And you ,” she said, her eyes warm as she reached out and wrapped Zuko in a tight embrace.
Zuko tensed—because of course he tensed—but then he slowly relaxed, awkwardly returning the hug.
Katara pulled back, beaming at both of them. “How are you two? I missed you!”
Sokka let out a shaky breath, still recovering. “Uh. Good ?”
Katara narrowed her eyes playfully. “Just ‘good’? C’mon, I want details. I haven’t seen you guys since the engagement party—” She gasped. “Oh!
Speaking of! How did Dad react?”
Silence.
Sokka froze .
Zuko’s lips pursed .
Katara’s excited expression faltered . She looked between them. “Wait.”
Her brow furrowed. “Wait. You haven’t told him yet ?”
Sokka gave her his best big-eyed, innocent smile. “Haha. Funny story, actually…”
Katara groaned, pressing her fingers to her temples. “Sokka.”
Zuko sighed deeply, rubbing his own temples. “Trust me. I tried .”
Katara crossed her arms, shaking her head. “Oh, you two are impossible.”
Sokka huffed, hands on his hips. “Look, it’s complicated , okay? But we have a plan!”
Katara raised a skeptical brow. “Oh? What’s the plan?”
Sokka glanced at Zuko. Zuko glanced at Sokka.
Neither of them had an answer.
Katara threw up her hands. “Unbelievable.”
Katara crossed her arms, giving Sokka the big sister glare that he knew all too well. “You have to tell him.”
Sokka groaned, running both hands through his hair. “I know , Katara.”
“No, I don’t think you do,” she shot back . “Because if you did , you would’ve told him the second you stepped off that ship instead of making up that ridiculous excuse!”
Sokka threw his hands in the air. “Well, excuse me for not wanting to casually drop by the way , I’m engaged to the Fire Lord in the middle of a public dock with half the tribe watching!”
Katara rolled her eyes. “You’re being dramatic .”
“Oh, I’m dramatic?” Sokka scoffed. “That’s rich coming from you , Miss ‘Bloodbending is the Worst Thing That’s Ever Happened to Me and No I Will Not Go to Therapy’.”
Katara gasped. “That is not the same thing!”
Sokka grinned. “No, but it got you off my case for five seconds.”
Katara exhaled sharply, but her lips twitched. “You’re impossible.”
Sokka grinned wider. “And yet, you love me.”
She let out a begrudging sigh before nodding. “Yeah, yeah. Unfortunately.”
Sokka chuckled, then raised a brow. “But seriously , what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be off traveling the world with Aang, doing Avatar things ?”
Katara’s face barely flickered, but Sokka caught it . “I just wanted to see Dad and Gran-Gran,” she said smoothly.
Sokka narrowed his eyes. “Hmm. Just that?”
Katara gave him an overly bright smile. “Yes.”
Sokka smirked. “No trouble in paradise, then?”
Katara’s expression didn’t change. “Nope.”
Sokka hummed, clearly not convinced, but he let it go. “Alright, fine , keep your secrets.”
Katara rolled her eyes before stepping forward and wrapping both him and Zuko into another tight hug. “I’ll see you two at dinner,” she said warmly.
Zuko stiffened for half a second before relaxing into it, returning the hug somewhat awkwardly. Sokka, on the other hand, sighed dramatically. “Oh, so now you’re all affectionate after yelling at me?”
Katara pulled back with a smirk. “You deserve both.”
And with that, she left the room.
Sokka watched her go, shaking his head. “I hate when she does that.”
Zuko raised a brow. “Hugs you?”
“No. Well. Yes, but—” Sokka groaned, flopping back against the bed before rolling into Zuko’s side. He clasped his hands over his face, letting out a muffled, “I really hope this goes okay.”
Zuko looked down at him, his expression softening. “It will,” he murmured. “And even if it doesn’t… we’ll handle it. Together .”
Sokka peeked at him through his fingers, then exhaled, letting his hands drop before wrapping his arms around Zuko’s waist. “I’m glad you’re going through this with me,” he admitted, voice quiet but sincere.
Zuko tightened his grip, resting his chin on top of Sokka’s head. “ Always ,” he murmured.
Sokka closed his eyes, pressing himself closer.
“I love you,” Zuko whispered, his voice steady, warm. “And I’m here. No matter what.”
Sokka smiled against his chest, his heart steadying. “Love you too, jerk-bender.”
They stayed like that for a while, just breathing , holding onto each other like the world outside didn’t matter. Like for just a little longer, they could stay here, in their own little space, where nothing else existed but the steady rhythm of their hearts.
The dining hall of the Southern Water Tribe was warm, the flickering glow of oil lamps casting long shadows against the ice and wood interior. The scent of rich stew, roasted sea prunes, and freshly baked bread filled the air as the tribe gathered for their evening meal.
Zuko and Sokka had both dressed in traditional Southern Water Tribe clothing for the occasion—thick, blue furs lined with soft white trim, their sleeves embroidered with swirling patterns reminiscent of ocean waves.
Zuko’s outfit, however, carried traces of his station. His Firelord headpiece, a golden flame pin, rested in his topknot, and several gold rings adorned his fingers, subtle reminders that he wasn’t just any guest, but the ruler of the Fire Nation.
Sokka barely noticed the weight of the heavy clothing as he sat stiffly beside Zuko at the long wooden table. His stomach twisted with nerves, but he forced himself to focus on the food in front of him.
He was totally, completely not panicking.
Hakoda sat at the head of the table, his presence commanding as always.
Beside him, Bato and a few Southern Water Tribe warriors conversed quietly. Gran-Gran was there too, ladling warm stew into bowls with the practiced ease of someone who had done this a thousand times. Katara sat across from Sokka, clearly enjoying watching her brother squirm.
Sokka had no idea how to say it. How do you casually tell your dad that you’re engaged to the Fire Lord?
Simple answer: you don’t.
Instead, he did what he did best—he deflected.
“So, Dad!” Sokka said a little too loudly, grinning as he grabbed a piece of bread. “Great stew, huh? Nothing like good old home cooking, am I right?”
Zuko turned his head slightly to look at him, clearly bewildered.
Hakoda nodded, sipping his drink. “Gran-Gran’s recipe,” he said, his voice deep and even.
“Ah, of course!” Sokka said, stuffing an unnecessarily large bite into his mouth. “A classic! Love it! Best stew ever!”
Katara snorted into her bowl.
Zuko, who had been carefully eating with practiced Fire Nation etiquette, reached under the table and gave Sokka’s thigh a subtle squeeze. Sokka glanced at him, then at his dad.
Okay. He should say something.
“So, uh, Dad,” Sokka started again, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s really great to be here. You know. Just visiting.”
Hakoda raised a brow. “Visiting?”
“Yep! Just stopping by! Seeing the family! No reason at all! Ha ha!”
Zuko cleared his throat, clearly struggling to sit through this trainwreck. “Actually—”
“So, how’s the trade going?” Sokka cut in again . “Any new imports? Exports? Any drama in the fish market? People getting real competitive over sea prunes?”
Hakoda’s expression flattened. “Sokka.”
Sokka grinned nervously. “Yes?”
Hakoda’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You’re acting weird.”
Sokka let out an extremely unconvincing laugh. “ Me ? Weird? Nooo.”
“You’re deflecting.”
Zuko coughed into his hand. “Yes. He is.”
Sokka shot him a traitor look.
Hakoda studied them both, his brow furrowing. “If you’ve come here for some sort of political negotiation, you don’t need to be so hesitant. If the Fire Nation requires something, we can discuss it openly.”
Sokka nearly choked on his drink. Oh, that was rich.
Zuko sat up a little straighter, hands resting politely on the table. “That’s not why we’re here.”
Hakoda glanced between them. “Then what—”
“Oh, Firelord,” one of the warriors down the table suddenly spoke, his voice light , friendly—completely unaware that he was about to detonate a metaphorical bomb. “Congratulations, by the way! We heard about the engagement from some Fire Nation traders a few weeks back. When’s the wedding?”
Silence.
Dead, suffocating silence.
A spoon clattered to the table. Someone coughed.
Sokka didn’t breathe.
Hakoda’s face went completely blank .
His father looked at the warrior. Then at Zuko. Then at him.
Sokka swallowed hard. He forced a grin. “ Sooo ... yeah. About that.”
Zuko subtly reached under the table and squeezed Sokka’s hand.
Katara sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You still hadn’t told him? Spirits, Sokka.”
Hakoda blinked slowly. “You’re engaged.”
“To Zuko, yes,” Sokka clarified quickly.
Another beat of silence.
Gran-Gran, completely unfazed, took another sip of her tea.
Finally, Hakoda exhaled. “Well. That’s... unexpected.”
Sokka let out a nervous laugh. “Yeah. That’s fair.”
Bato, who had been watching quietly, smirked. “We did hear rumors.”
Hakoda shot him a look before turning back to his son. “And you weren’t going to tell me?”
Sokka grimaced. “I was! I just... didn’t know how .”
Zuko, to his credit, remained composed—though Sokka could feel the tension in his grip. “It wasn’t meant to be a secret,” he said carefully. “We only wanted to tell you properly.”
Hakoda rubbed his temple. “So you waited until a scout announced it over dinner?”
Sokka winced. “Technically, I still didn’t tell you.”
Hakoda just stared at him.
Sokka turned to Katara. “Hey, remember when you said I had to tell him? Well, technically, I didn’t! ”
Katara rolled her eyes. “Unbelievable.”
Zuko sighed quietly, his fingers still wrapped around Sokka’s hand under the table. He was tense, but he hadn’t let go.
Sokka took a breath, looking back at his father, heart hammering. “Okay. So. Now that you do know... what do you think?”
Hakoda’s expression remained unreadable.
Sokka braced himself.
The silence at the table was suffocating.
Sokka could feel the weight of his father’s stare, like a harpoon through the chest, pinning him in place. He tried to look relaxed, casually swirling his spoon in his bowl of stew, but the tremor in his hand betrayed him.
Across from him, Katara had gone completely still, watching with barely concealed amusement and maybe just a little bit of oh spirits, this is a disaster energy.
And Zuko—bless him—sat beside Sokka, rigid as a stone, wearing his best I am the Fire Lord, and this is totally fine face. Sokka knew better.
Under the table, Zuko’s hand remained wrapped around his, a silent I’ve got you even as the tension in his grip made it clear that he, too, was about one second away from imploding.
Finally, after what felt like a full lifetime , Hakoda broke the silence.
“So…” he started, his voice even, measured, too calm. “You’re gonna marry the Fire Lord?”
Sokka nodded stiffly. “Yup.”
Hakoda blinked. “Zuko. Fire Lord Zuko.”
Sokka nodded again, this time a little less sure. “Uh-huh.”
Hakoda exhaled sharply, letting out a forced, almost breathless chuckle. “Huh. Didn’t see that one coming.”
Zuko, sitting uncomfortably straight, cleared his throat and dipped his head in an awkwardly formal nod. “Chief Hakoda.”
Hakoda’s eyes flicked to Zuko, his expression unreadable. “Fire Lord Zuko.”
Sokka, between them, let out a weak, completely unnatural laugh. “Heh.”
Hakoda didn’t even glance at him.
On the outside , Hakoda looked composed, calm —maybe just mildly surprised. But on the inside ?
Full. Scale. Meltdown.
My son is engaged to the Fire Lord.
The same Fire Lord who used to hunt him across the world.
The same Fire Lord who is responsible for an entire nation—who has political power that could shift everything.
What does this mean for the Southern Water Tribe?
What does this mean for Sokka?
Does Zuko actually love him, or is this some weird political move?
AM I SUPPOSED TO BE A FATHER RIGHT NOW OR A CHIEF?
He didn’t know if he was supposed to grill Zuko like an overprotective dad or negotiate like a leader considering an alliance.
For the first time in his life, Hakoda had no idea what to say.
“So.” He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “You two… how long has this been going on?”
Sokka hesitated. “Uhh… you mean officially , or like when I knew I was doomed?”
Hakoda raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, okay,” Sokka backtracked, “the letters started first—"
“The letters ?” Hakoda repeated, his expression shifting into something Sokka couldn’t quite decipher.
Sokka groaned. “Dad, please do not make this worse.”
Hakoda ignored him, turning to Zuko. “And you?”
Zuko, who had been waiting like he was sitting in front of a war tribunal , straightened further, meeting Hakoda’s gaze evenly. “I love your son,” he said, his voice steady, unwavering.
Sokka choked on his drink.
Hakoda’s brows lifted just slightly.
Even Katara looked a little stunned.
Zuko blinked, realizing a beat too late what he had just said out loud in the middle of a dinner table. His ears turned a deep shade of red, but instead of backtracking, he squared his shoulders, pressing forward. “I love Sokka,” he repeated, firmer this time. “This isn’t about politics. This isn’t about power. It’s—” He hesitated, glancing briefly at Sokka before turning back to Hakoda. “It’s real.”
For once, Sokka didn’t have a joke.
Hakoda exhaled through his nose, his eyes still unreadable.
The air in the room felt thick .
The warriors at the table looked intensely interested. Gran-Gran sipped her tea as if none of this was happening.
And then—
Bato, of all people , let out a low whistle. “Well,” he murmured, smirking as he leaned back in his chair, “he’s got guts, I’ll give him that.”
Hakoda shot Bato a quick look before shaking his head and muttering something under his breath. Finally, he sighed. “I suppose I should’ve seen this coming.”
Katara, raising an eyebrow, leaned forward. “Oh? And why’s that?”
Hakoda gave his daughter a look, then turned back to Sokka. “I mean, think about it. You left home, went to war, ran around the world, and somehow— somehow — ended up dragging the Fire Lord into our family.
That is the most Sokka thing I’ve ever heard.”
Sokka scowled. “You make it sound like I kidnapped him.”
Hakoda smirked just slightly. “Didn’t you?”
Zuko, trying very hard not to panic, stayed silent.
The conversation quickly dissolved into chaotic back-and-forths—Katara making pointed comments about Sokka’s dramatics, Bato laughing into his drink, Hakoda shaking his head in disbelief as Sokka defended himself.
Zuko, somehow, was still holding Sokka’s hand under the table.
Finally, when it seemed like everyone was talking at once—
Gran-Gran calmly set her tea down, her voice cutting through the noise like a knife. “Well,” she said, looking directly at Hakoda, “as long as Sokka is happy, that’s all that really matters.”
The table fell into an abrupt hush.
Hakoda let out a slow breath.
Sokka swallowed, unsure of what to say.
Zuko didn’t move.
Gran-Gran gave them all a knowing look before taking another sip of her tea.
Hakoda sighed again, this time rubbing his face tiredly. “Right.” He glanced at his son, then at Zuko. “Right.”
Zuko straightened slightly.
Hakoda exhaled one last time before finally— finally —grumbling, “Well. Pass the damn stew.”
The table exploded back into motion, conversation resuming as if nothing had happened.
Sokka let out a breath of pure relief , slumping in his seat.
Zuko, still tense but significantly less on-edge , gave his fiancé a tiny, exhausted smile.
Sokka smiled back.
They weren’t dead .
So, you know. That was a win.
The meal had finally ended, and the tension that had hung thick in the air had mostly dissipated. Sokka had been whisked away by Katara—probably to be lectured about why in the name of the spirits he thought delaying the news had been a good idea.
That left Zuko alone.
Or rather, not alone at all.
Hakoda was still seated at the head of the table, his presence heavy despite his composed expression. The warriors had started dispersing, and Gran-Gran had already retreated to her quarters, leaving only the two of them in the dim candlelight of the dining hall.
Zuko swallowed. Great.
The air shifted. Hakoda straightened in his chair, then gestured subtly with his head. “Walk with me.”
It wasn’t a request.
Zuko nodded, feeling like a soldier about to step onto a battlefield. He followed Hakoda through the quiet halls of the village, the cold air of the Southern Water Tribe biting against his skin. The torches along the paths flickered, casting long shadows over the compacted snow.
They walked in silence for a while, neither rushing to fill the quiet.
Finally, Hakoda broke it first—not with accusations, not with anger, but with something far worse.
Small talk.
“So, Firelord Zuko.” Hakoda’s voice was calm, neutral . Too neutral. “How’s ruling an entire nation going for you?”
Zuko blinked. “Uh.” He hesitated, caught off guard. “It’s… a lot of work.”
Hakoda hummed in acknowledgment, his arms folded behind his back.
“I’d imagine so. Balancing a council, rebuilding a country, maintaining peace.” His eyes flicked to Zuko. “And, of course, sneaking off to get engaged to my son somewhere in between all that.”
Zuko nearly choked on his own breath.
Hakoda didn’t sound mad. Not really . If anything, there was something dangerous in the casual way he said it, like he was still deciding if he should laugh or murder him.
Zuko composed himself quickly. “We didn’t mean to keep it from you,” he admitted. “We wanted to tell you. We just… weren’t sure how.”
Hakoda nodded, like he understood. Then, without breaking stride, he asked, “Do you love my son, Fire Lord Zuko?”
The way he said Fire Lord —mocking, but still somehow respectful—sent a chill down Zuko’s spine.
Zuko inhaled slowly. “Just Zuko,” he corrected. “I’m not here as the Fire Lord.” He met Hakoda’s gaze without flinching. “And yes. More than anything.”
Hakoda stopped walking.
The wind howled softly around them, swirling flurries of snow over the ice.
Hakoda’s blue eyes studied him, reading everything . Zuko felt himself being measured , as if his entire future depended on whatever judgment
Hakoda would make in this moment.
Then Hakoda exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down his face. “Spirits help me.”
Zuko’s stomach twisted. “I meant what I said,” he pressed. “This isn’t about politics. This isn’t about alliances. I love Sokka, and I will spend my life proving that if I have to.”
Hakoda let out a short, humorless laugh. “I want to believe you,” he admitted. “But I need to know you’re not just saying that because it’s convenient.”
Zuko stiffened slightly. “Convenient?”
Hakoda’s eyes flashed, but not in anger . In something more complicated.
“Sokka is everything to me. He’s spent his whole life giving himself to others. His people, his friends, his family. If you’re going to take his heart, Zuko, you better be ready to hold it right.”
Zuko didn’t hesitate.
“I know,” he said firmly. “And I will.”
Hakoda exhaled, nodding just slightly. He wasn’t convinced yet , but he was listening. And that was something.
Before the conversation could get worse , a voice cut through the tension.
“ Okaaay, ” Sokka’s voice rang out. “Are we done with the intimidating future in-law talk, or are you guys gonna go out on a bonding hunt together?”
Zuko turned instantly , practically saved by the sound of his fiancé’s voice. Sokka was standing a few feet away, arms crossed, clearly having sensed the exact moment things were about to become unbearable.
“Because I, for one, would like to sleep before the next round of this fun little nightmare.” Sokka clapped his hands together.
Sokka clapped Zuko on the back, then leaned on him, letting his full weight press against him. “C’mon, babe,” he said— casual , carefree —but there was just the slightest edge of tension in the way he said it. “We should go get some rest before I have to deal with more fatherly judgment.”
Zuko glanced at him, silently asking, Are you sure?
Sokka just grinned, too big and too forced.
Zuko turned back to Hakoda, bowing his head slightly. “Chief Hakoda.”
As Sokka dragged him away, Hakoda called after them.
“There’s a trade council meeting in the morning,” he said casually. “You’re both welcome to sit in.”
Sokka groaned dramatically. “Oh, spirits, homework? ”
Zuko nodded. “Thank you.”
Hakoda exhaled again, as if recalibrating his entire worldview before giving a short nod. “Rest well.”
And with that, he walked off.
Sokka let out a long breath, then turned to Zuko. “Soooo… what do you think? Did he hate you or just deeply question his life choices?”
Zuko sighed, rubbing his temples. “…I think he’s confused.”
Sokka snorted. “Aren’t we all ?”
Zuko gave him a look.
Sokka grinned, hooking his arm around Zuko’s. “C’mon, Firelord Fiancé.
Let’s go pretend this conversation never happened and cuddle until I stop feeling like I’m dying inside. ”
Zuko huffed a quiet laugh. “That’s your solution to everything.”
Sokka grinned. “And does it work ?”
Zuko sighed, squeezing his hand. “…Yeah.”
Sokka beamed. “Then shut up and let’s go.”
And with that, they disappeared into the night, leaving behind the first of many conversations to come .
Sokka threw himself face-first onto the massive fur-covered bed with a dramatic groan, his limbs sprawled in every direction. “I am so glad that’s over,” he mumbled into the thick bedding, voice muffled.
Zuko, meanwhile, turned toward the modest fireplace at the edge of the room, rolling his shoulders before extending one hand. A flick of his wrist, and fire burst to life in the hearth, bathing the small space in a warm, golden glow. He took a deep breath, letting the crackling flames soothe his nerves before turning back to Sokka.
The room itself was simple, but comfortable—built with thick wooden walls and reinforced to withstand the harsh Southern Water Tribe climate. The furniture was carved from dark, polished wood, the bed covered in soft pelts and thick blankets to ward off the cold. A woven rug sprawled across the floor, and near the door, a small table with matching chairs stood waiting for use. Lanterns hung from the walls, their soft glow flickering like tiny stars against the woodgrain.
Zuko crossed the room and, without hesitation, crawled onto the bed beside Sokka. He lay down next to him, wrapping his arms around his fiancé and pulling him close. Sokka instinctively turned into his chest, burrowing against him like he was trying to steal every ounce of warmth Zuko had.
For a moment, neither of them spoke, the only sounds in the room being the soft crackle of the fire and the rhythmic whoosh of the wind against the walls outside.
Then Sokka sighed, pressing his forehead into Zuko’s shoulder. “You know what? For all the awkward, emotionally-charged family tension… I’m really glad we’re in this together.”
Zuko exhaled slowly, tightening his hold on him. “Me too,” he murmured.
Sokka let out a quiet hum, fingers idly tracing along the fabric of Zuko’s tunic. But Zuko could feel the way his body was still holding onto a fraction of its earlier tension, could sense the weight of everything lingering in his thoughts.
After a moment, he spoke. “Do you think we should go to that meeting tomorrow?”
Sokka groaned dramatically. “Ugh, Zuko, why would you bring that up when I’m finally comfortable?”
Zuko huffed a small laugh. “Because your dad definitely expects us to go. And honestly… I think it’s more than just politics.”
Sokka shifted, resting his chin on Zuko’s chest so he could look up at him properly. His blue eyes were thoughtful now, considering. “…Yeah. I think you’re right. I wanted this to be a vacation, but…” He let out a slow breath, pressing his lips together. “I think Dad’s testing something. And I think if we don’t go, it’ll say more than if we do .”
Zuko nodded. “We don’t have to say anything. Just be there.”
Sokka smirked, poking Zuko’s chest lightly. “You know I can’t resist talking. But, yeah. We should go.” He sighed, melting further into Zuko’s embrace. “We’ll just have to survive the meeting without me making a joke that gets me exiled from my own tribe.”
Zuko chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Sokka’s head. “I’ll make sure to cover your mouth if necessary.”
Sokka snickered. “Oh yeah? You gonna firebend my mouth shut, Firelord?”
Zuko smirked. “Don’t tempt me.”
Sokka let out another quiet laugh before his fingers curled into the fabric of Zuko’s robes, his breath evening out. “Tomorrow,” he muttered, more to himself than anything. “One thing at a time.”
Zuko simply held him closer, knowing full well that this wasn’t over—not by a long shot. There were still questions. Still conversations to have. But
Sokka was here in his arms, and for now, that was enough.
They had time.
And no matter what happened, they would face it together.
As the fire crackled, the night surrounding them felt distant and unimportant. All that existed was the warmth of Zuko's skin against Sokka's, their hearts thundering in sync as they shared this unspoken connection. Their hands met, a casual brush at first, but then it deepened—Zuko’s fingers trailing over Sokka's wrist, sending electric shivers up his arm.
Sokka’s eyes gleamed with mischief, a playful smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. He leaned closer, his breath warm against Zuko’s ear as he whispered, “I don’t think I’ve ever been so sure about anything in my life.” He pulled back slightly, watching Zuko’s face, waiting for the hesitation that was so typical of him.
Zuko’s brow furrowed, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes. It wasn’t resistance—more like a quiet challenge. He caught Sokka’s gaze, his voice low, yet filled with vulnerability. “Are you sure we want to do this here? So... soon?”
Sokka chuckled softly, his fingers now lightly grazing Zuko’s jaw, his touch teasing, almost taunting. “Oh, I’m very sure.” He took Zuko’s hand, bringing it to his chest where the beat of his heart was steady and loud. “Are you?”
The hesitation was gone now, replaced by a slow, burning desire in Zuko’s eyes. His lips were warm as they brushed against Sokka’s, a lingering touch that was both gentle and desperate. He deepened the kiss, pulling Sokka closer, hands eager but measured, as if he were savoring every second of this closeness.
Sokka’s body pressed against his, playful yet affectionate. His laughter was muffled against Zuko’s lips as he traced the line of his jaw with his fingertips, teasing him. “You’re always so serious about things... what if you just let go a little?” Sokka’s tone was light, but his voice had an edge of raw desire, his confidence building with every passing second.
Zuko’s breath caught, a fire igniting in him that he hadn’t quite anticipated.
He kissed Sokka back with a fervor that surprised even him, his hands slipping to Sokka’s waist, his grip tightening, pulling him closer. It wasn’t just the heat of the moment—this was something deeper, an acknowledgment of what they had both been too hesitant to fully accept before .
Their movements were in sync, each touch an unspoken promise, each kiss an exchange of something unbreakable. Sokka leaned into him, his lips still playful but growing more earnest, his heart pounding just as much as Zuko’s.
Zuko, ever the protector, pulled Sokka tighter, as if he could shield him from everything but the truth of their connection. His kisses were slower now, deliberate, drawing out the tension between them in a way that made Sokka’s pulse race even more.
As they pulled apart just enough to catch their breath, Sokka’s eyes danced with warmth and affection, his teasing nature still lingering.
“Guess you’re not so hesitant anymore, huh?”
Zuko’s eyes softened, his smile subtle but genuine. “I’m never hesitant when it comes to you.” His voice was steady, his hands still resting on Sokka’s body like a quiet promise.
They didn’t need to say more. The night around them had become irrelevant. Only the warmth of their bond remained—fiery, passionate, and undeniable.
The warmth of the fire flickered gently, its crackling embers the only sound that filled the air. The room was quiet, save for the soft rhythm of two hearts in sync, beating with a calmness that hadn't been there before. Clothes were scattered haphazardly across the floor—tokens of their surrender to the moment, now forgotten in the stillness.
Sokka lay beside Zuko, both of them bathed in the soft afterglow of their shared intimacy. The air smelled faintly of passion and warmth, the remnants of their closeness lingering as a subtle reminder of the bond they had just shared. Sokka’s hand rested against Zuko’s bare chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath, while Zuko’s arm was draped lazily over his stomach, pulling him closer.
“That was… something,” Sokka murmured, his voice low, his lips curling into a satisfied smile.
Zuko, his body feeling heavy and content, let out a soft chuckle, a little breathless. “We needed it , clearly .” He nuzzled into the pillow, eyes half-closed, his exhaustion starting to settle in. The tension from the day had melted away in ways that were more profound than either of them had expected.
Sokka smirked, his fingers lightly tracing patterns over Zuko’s skin, his energy still buzzing in the air around him. “Clearly. You were about ready to explode.” He raised an eyebrow teasingly, his voice light but affectionate.
Zuko groaned playfully, shifting slightly, his body still tired but in the best way. "I feel like I could sleep for a week," he said, his words slower now, filled with contentment.
Sokka, however, was already beginning to stir, his energy surging back. It was like the moment had recharged him, his usual playful spark returning.
He nudged Zuko’s side with his shoulder, smiling brightly as he leaned in close, brushing his lips gently against Zuko’s ear. "You know, I think I could use a walk to clear my head."
Zuko’s eyes fluttered open, giving Sokka a tired but amused look. “My head’s already cleared enough,” he said, voice thick with exhaustion. “You should just sleep.”
Sokka laughed softly, sitting up and stretching. "Nah, I’m not that tired.
You go ahead and sleep—I'm gonna take a little stroll." He flashed Zuko a teasing grin before standing, beginning to gather his clothes with a fluid grace that was all too familiar to Zuko.
Zuko frowned, his expression softening despite his tiredness. "Don't be mad at me, alright?" His voice was low, almost pleading, the concern in his eyes genuine. He didn’t want Sokka to feel abandoned, not after everything.
Sokka turned, giving Zuko a playful look. “I’m not mad. I just want some fresh air. You get some rest, old man." He moved back to the bed for a moment, leaning down to kiss Zuko gently on the forehead, his lips lingering for just a second longer than necessary.
“Sleep well,” Sokka murmured, a teasing edge to his voice as he straightened up, his eyes filled with affection.
Zuko’s frown deepened, though it was laced with tenderness. “Be careful out there, alright?” he said, his voice low but caring.
Sokka flashed him a bright smile, full of energy. “I will! Just don’t snore too loud.” He shot Zuko a wink, gathering his clothes and pulling them on as he made his way toward the door.
Zuko watched him go, his heart swelling with a quiet warmth that was hard to ignore. He was still a little tired, but the feeling of peace and connection with Sokka made it all worth it. He closed his eyes, sinking deeper into the bed as Sokka’s footsteps faded away .
Just before the door closed, Sokka paused and turned, looking back at
Zuko one last time. He caught Zuko’s gaze and gave him a final, soft smile—one that spoke of a love and affection too deep for words.
Then, with a wink and a last soft chuckle, Sokka slipped out into the night, leaving Zuko to rest, but never truly alone.
The cool night air wrapped around Sokka as he walked along the shoreline, the steady rhythm of the waves crashing against the rocks beneath him. His thoughts were a jumbled mess of everything and nothing—Zuko, his father, his own heart, and where all of this would take him. The stars overhead twinkled faintly, offering a sense of calm, but Sokka couldn’t shake the weight pressing on his chest.
He found an empty bench, sitting down to just breathe, to think. The gentle breeze tousled his hair, and he stared out at the ocean, lost in its vastness.
A soft sound behind him caught his attention, and when he turned, he saw his father approaching. Hakoda was dressed in his usual, simple attire, but there was something in his step tonight—a mixture of hesitation and concern. He was about to speak when Sokka turned back toward the ocean, returning to his thoughts.
Hakoda sat beside him with a soft sigh, the weight of the moment hanging between them. Silence stretched, thick and heavy, until Hakoda cleared his throat, attempting to break the tension.
“So… this is nice, huh? The sea. Calm and peaceful…” His words were careful, awkward, as though he wasn’t sure how to begin.
Sokka didn’t respond right away , simply letting the silence sit for a beat longer before he finally spoke, his voice firm but gentle.
“Dad, don’t do that,” Sokka said, cutting him off. His eyes didn’t leave the water, but his words carried a weight of their own.
There was a long, comfortable silence between them before Hakoda spoke, his voice careful, testing the waters. “You know, I trust you, right?”
Sokka didn’t look at him, but the corner of his mouth quirked into a soft smile. “You’re about to tell me you don’t trust Zuko though, aren’t you ?”
Hakoda winced slightly but didn’t pull away. After another long, almost painful pause, he finally let out a quiet sigh, rubbing a hand over his face in a gesture that betrayed his internal struggle. “I… I just don’t know how to separate the Fire Lord from the man who loves my son.”
Sokka’s shoulders tensed for a moment, but then he exhaled slowly, his voice soft but unwavering. “Then don’t.”
The words hung in the air, unspoken understanding passing between them. The waves continued to crash, the sounds of the ocean somehow offering a sense of peace despite the heavy emotions settling around them.
After a long silence, Sokka shifted slightly, turning his head to look at his father. His expression softened. “Dad… he’s just Zuko. And I love him.”
Hakoda looked at his son, his eyes full of unspoken emotions—concern, confusion, and something more, something like a quiet acceptance, though still hesitant. He stared at Sokka for a long moment before his voice broke the silence, quiet and almost fragile.
“Are you happy?” Hakoda asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as though it was the one question he needed to know the answer to more than anything else.
Sokka smiled, without hesitation. His eyes glinted with something warm, something true. “Yeah, Dad. I really am.”
Hakoda swallowed, his eyes softening as he let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. There was a beat of quiet before he spoke again, his voice tinged with curiosity. “When did you know you liked men?”
Sokka’s cheeks flushed immediately, and he shifted uncomfortably on the bench. “Oh, come on, Dad , really ? You want the play-by-play? Should I throw a big formal ‘coming out’ party for the whole Water Tribe while I’m at it?”
Hakoda blinked, caught off guard by his son’s teasing tone. Sokka’s grin was half-joking, half-exasperated, but beneath it, the warmth was undeniable.
Hakoda chuckled softly, the awkwardness slowly lifting between them.
“Alright, alright. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.”
Sokka shrugged, his smile fading into something more contemplative. “I didn’t expect it to go the way it did. But… I’m happy, Dad. Really.”
Hakoda nodded, absorbing the sincerity of his son’s words, but then his brow furrowed slightly, the curiosity not yet fully satisfied. “So, what are you doing out here alone? You need to clear your head, huh?” He raised an eyebrow.
Sokka froze for a split second. He hesitated, not sure how to explain without getting into things he wasn’t ready to share. He cleared his throat, brushing it off with a half-laugh. “Yeah, just needed some air. You know how it is. Quiet time. Alone in the night.”
Hakoda smiled softly, accepting the answer without pushing further. He understood enough to know when to leave it be. After a long moment, he put a hand on Sokka’s shoulder, his grip firm but warm.
“Well, you should head back soon. Get some sleep, okay? You’ve had a long day.”
Sokka looked at his dad, his heart swelling with something both bittersweet and peaceful. He stood up slowly, leaning down to give Hakoda a brief but sincere hug.
“I’ll head back to Zuko. He’s probably passed out already,” Sokka said with a chuckle, though there was a tenderness in his voice.
Hakoda smiled softly, hugging his son back, holding him close for a moment longer. “Good. Go get some rest, too. And be careful, alright?”
Sokka grinned, pulling away and giving his dad a playful shove. “I’ll be fine. You take care of yourself, old man.”
Hakoda’s smile lingered as he watched Sokka turn to leave, a quiet sense of peace settling over him. They might not have everything figured out yet, but they had come a long way.
As Sokka walked back down the shore, his heart felt lighter, the weight of his father’s acceptance—albeit tentative—making him feel more whole than he had in a long time.