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A summer breeze, warm and damp ruffles Sokka’s hair, loose around his face, and raises the hairs on his arms. The night is eerily still, without so much as a cricket’s chirp, and even the fire stubbornly refuses to crackle. The night is dark, nearly devoid of stars, and the moon, thin and silver, offers little in the way of comfort.
Sokka sits beside Zuko as the night grows cold, the chill seeping into his back while he stares transfixed at the dying embers of the fires. They are alone. Talk this night had turned to the sensitive subject of soulmates when Toph had asked her friends to describe her soul mark to her, never having seen it herself. They had obliged, but as it always must, conversation found its way to their own. Vague and half-hearted answers revealed the delicate nature of the subject for most, and eventually one-by-one they managed to excuse themselves somewhat awkwardly. Until there were only two.
Sokka wasn’t exactly sure why he was drawn in by the dejected looking boy, slouched near the fire, who’s warmth reached his skin but not his eyes. He knew somehow that if he left, Zuko would be all but consumed by a deep loneliness and longing all his own. He was familiar with it.
So together they sit, in painful silence, waiting for night to stretch long and red into dawn.
Or that’s Sokka’s plan. But he just can’t help himself.
“So… what about – what about you?” Though Zuko was generally quieter than Sokka by nature, his absolute silence on the subject tonight was unusual still. Sokka suspects it’s a difficult topic, banished prince and all, but he can’t help his curiosity.
“What about me what?” Zuko doesn’t look up from the fire as he speaks, his voice carefully level and controlled.
“Come on, you know what I’m talking about. Your soul mark,” Sokka prods. “Can I see it?” The last part had slipped out somewhat unexpectedly. “It’s alright if you say no,” he adds quickly, “I just –“
“No.”
“Oh. Sorry I – “
“No, it’s okay Sokka it’s just that – I can’t show you. I – I don’t have one.” Zuko admits.
“Oh.” Sokka is a bit dumbstruck. Sure, he had heard of people without soulmates before, he’d just never met one. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s what I deserve.” Zuko’s voice positively drips with self-loathing, and Sokka can just make out angry red marks on his arm where he’s dug his nails into his skin as he sits with his knees to his chest, closed off like a locked chest. But Sokka is determined. Or at least bull-headed.
“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” He snaps.
“Come on Sokka. I – I’ve done a lot of bad things. Unforgivable things. And even though I’ve changed, how could I expect someone to love me through that? They shouldn’t have to. Even if they did, I wouldn’t deserve it. I don’t.” His voice is earnest, and Sokka can tell that, though he claims to have made peace with his fate, his words are a poor disguise of his fear that that might in fact be true.
“Wow. That has to be one of the stupidest things I’ve ever heard. And that’s really saying something.” Sokka retorts dryly.
“Oh really? Then what do you think I deserve?” Zuko hisses, eyes shining with hurt.
“Who gives a shit?” blunt perhaps, but Sokka is ever honest.
“What?”
“I’m serious, Zuko. Who fucking cares what you deserve? Who cares what I think you deserve? Life isn’t fair. Nobody ever gets what they deserve, least of all any of us, so why should you even care what the universe thinks you should have?” True or not, Zuko’s words fall flat in Sokka’s ears. Despite everything, despite his speech and Zuko’s certainty of his fate, Sokka can’t bring himself to picture that future for him. Not when deep inside, he truly believes if life were fair, Zuko would have so much better. Not when laughter and love make his eyes shine just so like the afternoon autumn sun, blissful and radiant.
“That’s not very reassuring.” Zuko stares absently at his feet, determined to avoid Sokka’s concerned gaze.
“It’s not supposed to be. But it’s the truth. Besides, having a soulmate doesn’t exactly guarantee you a happy ending anyways. Trust me.” It’s Sokka’s turn to fight back tears as he stares up at the sliver of moon shrouded in evening cloud.
“Do you – have you found your soulmate?” Zuko almost manages to keep the envy from his voice.
“Yes.” Sokka replies curtly.
“Is Suki -?”
“No. No she’s… she’s gone.” Sokka murmurs, downcast.
“Oh. I’m sorry.” Thinking about it now, Zuko does seem to recall Sokka mentioning her before. He just hadn’t connected the dots. He wishes he had been more thoughtful.
“Yeah. Me too.”
“So, Suki?” Zuko hedges.
“I like Suki. I really care about her. But at the end of the day, I’m not her soulmate. Things aren’t like that for us. Not now that I know…” He trails off, shaking his head slightly – mournfully.
“Mmm…” Zuko hums. It felt wrong to apologize for that. After all, these things weren’t up to Zuko. Not by any stretch of the imagination.
They sit in silence for a long while, listening to nothing but the other boy’s breathing. Slowly, the tension gives way to a simple tranquility. Souls laid out for one another, everything at rest, a weight lifted. A kind of familiarity neither had know before grows delicate and soft between them.
“Maybe… maybe one day I’ll get a second chance.” Sokka lays back on the hard, baked earth, fingers threaded behind his head and one leg crossed over the other, suddenly at ease.
“A second chance at what?” Zuko wonders aloud. He can’t imagine Sokka needing to amend for anything the way he does.
“I don’t know. Love? Joy? A happy ending if I’m really Lucky?” Zuko can’t help but chuckle a little at that. “Hey, a guy can dream.” He grumbles.
“Do you honestly think that this unfair universe of yours is going to let us have the happy ending you think it doesn’t matter if we deserve?” Zuko teases.
“Probably not,” Sokka sighs, “but we should do it anyways, just out of spite.” Too late, he realizes the implication of his words, though he’s no sure if Zuko caught the apparent subtle suggestion that they face their precarious future together. Strangely, he finds he wouldn’t really mind either way.
“Right.” Zuko laughs outright at that, the sound ringing warm and satisfying in Sokka’s ears. “Well. I will if you will.” He looks down at Sokka with a bashful grin, eyes gleaming golden in the low light, soft around the edges, blurred into the night sky.
“Deal.” Sokka breaths, spellbound.
It’s a while before he notices the low crackle of the fire, so loud is the din in his mind as his stomach freefalls and twists itself into knots. His heart pounds over it all, pumping something heady through his veins, new and breath-taking. He’s never been drunk, but he can imagine it must feel something like this. At least, he’s heard it can make you do something stupid you never would, as he was about to.
Slowly, cautiously, he shifts his hand unseen in the night until he can feel the heat of Zuko’s skin. Quickly, before his unexpected courage runs dry, he slips his hand over Zuko’s, lacing their fingers together perfectly, as if it were always meant to be, careful to look nowhere but ahead at the smouldering fire. Breaths in. Breaths out. Feels a heat he knows has nothing to do with his proximity to the blaze rise on his collar.
And Zuko?
Zuko doesn’t pull away. If Sokka had been looking, he might have just made out the rosy blush blooming on his cheeks to match his own. Not a soul mark, perhaps, but telling all the same.