Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I want to see you.

That was the first line of the letter.

There was no stalling or cerfuffling around about affairs at the Capitol or how boring the life of a prince was. No frills. No cordial opening. With every letter, there was always something. It was simply how a royal was expected to write.

Here, sitting on his bed reading the letter addressed to him that the monks gave him shortly after curfew, there was nothing—nothing but what the two of them have only ever requested of each other: the truth.

And this truth written on gentle paper he held in his hands right now felt so, so stupidly heavy.

‘Go away.’

Roku hated himself for that being his initial response to Sozin’s words.

He hasn’t even bothered to read the rest because of how much more he might want to drown himself.

I want to see you.

How raw. And selfish.

How exactly like Sozin.

At least he hasn’t changed. Or maybe, Roku has finally done enough meditation to convince himself he is no longer the same forlorn soul that had to involuntarily leave the only person he’d trust with his life four years ago.

I want to see you.

The words made Roku’s heart sink as much as they made it flutter with joy, and he knew precisely why that is, which is why he couldn’t see his oldest friend until he’s achieved both mastery of all four elements and entry into the avatar state.

If Sozin came now, Roku may as well give up entirely on becoming the avatar the world needs. If Sozin showed up tomorrow with that bright, teasing, familiar smile, no amount of meditation or discipline could save Roku from himself.

I want to see you.

Roku had to write the most emotionally taxing letter of his life first thing tomorrow or everything he’s worked for thus far will have been for naught.

Roku had to. He had to lest he risk disappointing the monks who have been nothing but helpful and hopeful—lest he risk disappointing the world he needs to balance and protect for the rest of his life.

He had to.

And he did.

And he got a response no less than a week later.

I’m coming to see you.

His whole world may as well have shattered right then, but unlike with the first letter, Roku felt the furthest thing from dread or sorrow or fear.

Of course you are, he thought to himself, and smiled.

Chapter Text

Everything and everyone fell perfectly into place this evening like any other.

Everything except one, small thing, that is.

Dinner was served the same time it always was. Each member of the royal family took their assigned seats and the servants slotted the plates together in a perfectly designed puzzle before them.

Sozin had no doubt that tonight’s dinner featured his favorite dish because his parents wished to speak with him about that one, small thing.

“I’m not sure if this is wise.” Sozin’s mother spoke up from across the dinner table in between sips of tea. “The fire sages made it clear that Roku’s avatar journey is one he must take alone.”

Sozin would only dare to do something so un-princely and immature such as roll his eyes at his mother while in the privacy of their palace. “And he will. This is only a short visit in the twelve years the sages said he’d be away.”

“Perhaps.” His father chimed in. “However, how would you take to someone interrupting your focus while training or reading?”

“Father, it’s one week out of twelve years. Roku will have all the time he needs to—”

“I understand he is your best and oldest friend, my son. And I shall do nothing to stop you from going. I’m merely offering that you consider your own path as well as Roku’s.”

“It’s not unnatural for even the closest friends to drift apart, dear.” His mother added. “I just don’t want you saddened if you travel such a long way only to find out Roku—”

“Mother, Father, please!” Sozin interrupted her a bit louder than he had meant but did not feel apologetic about it. “I just want to see him while he’s only a few days away. Once he goes to the Northern Water Tribe, it would take weeks to reach him.” Sozin reasoned with his parents, knowing full well that distance would never hinder him from seeing his friend.

“I see.” Was all his father said in response, and went back to his plate as if the conversation never happened.

Typical, Sozin thought.

A knock at his door sounded off shortly before he was about to turn in for the evening.

It was his mother. He could tell by how gentle the rap of the wood sounded against her fair, soft knuckles.

“Sozin? May I come in?”

She sat down next to him with a sigh. “I, too, won’t stop you from leaving to visit Roku. But, I’m worried that by doing so, you’ll only hurt yourself.”

Sozin rolled his eyes as before at the dinner table and crossed his arms. He is tired and should be asleep by now, and frustrated with his whole family at their obvious disdain at Sozin’s choice to go.

“How do you mean?” Sozin entertained his mother’s concerns anyways.

She turned to fully face him. “While your father’s words may have been crudely chosen this evening, I do agree with his sentiment.” She said, bringing a hand up to cup the side of her son’s face. “I wouldn’t dream of disregarding the strong bond the two of you have cultivated since childhood, but you must accept this, dear. You must accept that the two of you are leading lives that are both separate and different.”

“I don’t care.” Sozin huffed, moving away from his mother’s touch.

He really didn’t mean to be so cruel to her tonight. Truly, he didn’t. His mother, while often passive, has always been a source of comfort and support for him. Why couldn’t she come through this time? What made this time any different?

She attempted to hide the hurt caused by her son’s reaction, but it mattered not. Sozin knew. And he didn’t know why he wasn’t apologizing for anything tonight.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was low and flat, a tone the prince wasn’t used to hearing from her. “Whatever comes of this trip and the time after it, know that I’ll always be here for you.”

“You say that like me going to visit Roku will cause a natural disaster or unleash a plague,” Sozin said.

“It could.” She said, which made Sozin look at his mother as if she had two heads.

But then, when she moved to place her hand over her heart, Sozin got the idea, and only grew more frustrated.

“By the spirits, mother, I’m not five anymore, I’m twenty years old. If Roku somehow truly feels we shouldn’t speak again until after his training, then we won’t.”

“I don’t think you’re being honest with yourself, dear.”

“I think I know what this is about.” Sozin stood and turned away from his mother. “I’ve studied our people, culture, and traditions since I could speak. If father still thinks I’m ill-fitted to become his successor to the point of micromanaging where I go and who I associate with, then—”

“Sozin!” His mother shouted and stood to turn him around by the shoulder, an act so forward and passionate that the prince couldn’t believe he was talking to the same woman who had raised him.

“Sit.” She said, her voice filled with this new fervor.

And Sozin obeyed.

Silence engulfed the two for only a few seconds.

“This isn’t about anything like that.” She spoke slowly, her voice reverting back to the meek whisper she’d began this conversation with. “I know what it’s like to lose touch with those you’ve known since the beginning. I wasn’t prepared, but I want you to be.”

Sozin considered her words for only a moment. “Roku is still Roku. I know him.”

“A lot can happen in four years.” She countered.

“That doesn’t matter. Time doesn’t matter.” Sozin shook his head. “Not to us. And it’s like I said, if Roku feels he needs space away from everything, I’d—”

“You’d be ruined.” His mother interrupted, and this time when she looked at her son, her face no longer held the somber consideration he always saw her wear in moments like these.

She looked… irritated.

And at that, Sozin finally turned his face away and displayed an ounce of shame for acting the way he’s been all night—all week since he got the go-ahead from the monks.

“I know my son better than anyone. He has always been a brilliant, talented, stubborn boy. He has always worn his heart on his sleeve.” She said, and then stood and walked back towards the door to Sozin’s room.

Sozin’s frustration came back in a strong wave that crashed against his mind in the form of a headache at his mother’s confusing remark.

“Whatever it is you think, I know I respect Roku above everything else. Whatever he wishes, I’ll always adhere to it without question.” He said, and he meant it with every ounce of his being.

His mother stood motionless by the door for a few moments before looking at him over her shoulder. “Even if he wishes for your friendship to end indefinitely?” She asked.

The doors shut, and Sozin scoffed.

He sat alone on his bed for a few minutes after his mother left, mulling over her words. The candlelight from his nightstand began to dim, signaling they had reached the end of their lifecycle. Instead of moving to blow them out, the Fire Nation prince allowed them to burn out naturally.

Sozin was not an idiot. He knows full well he and Roku, though both destined for great power and responsibility, were on different pathways of life.

He knows that.

And he also knows that if he didn’t take this trip to say his piece, he’d never get another chance to. Any longer, and he’d be appointed the new Fire Lord and have no time at all for spontaneous trips around the world. Any longer, and regret would become his shadow.

No. Sozin is no idiot.

He knows what his mother meant.

He knows it’s best to rip the band-aid off rather than prolong the pain.

And so, he will.

Even if the wound beneath leaves a scar that will last a lifetime.

Chapter Text

It’s no big deal, they’d told him. You’ve worked hard to master air bending ahead of schedule, they’d said. Of course, a small visit from your closest friend isn’t any trouble at all, they’d said.

That’s what the Council of Elders had said. So why did Roku feel like burning himself underneath the ground when he heard the news?

‘Go away.’

How could he think that?

Roku shook his head.

If only he knew the answer to his own question.

A knock on his door sounded off and broke him out of his woeful trance.

“Come in.” He said reluctantly.

“Well if it isn’t the air bending master himself!” A familiar voice exclaimed.

Roku turned and was greeted with Gyatso’s big smile.

“Hardly.” The avatar huffed, and then scooted over to make room from the young nomad to sit. “I’m no more a master of it than you are.”

“Don’t be like that, Roku!” Gyatso playfully swatted at his shoulder before taking a seat. “You wouldn’t be moving on to the Northern Water tribe if the monks didn’t think you were ready.”

“I guess.”

“Ok. Really. Your friend coming to visit is working you up this much?”

“No.”

“Liar.”

“...Ok, maybe a little.”

“I’d count sulking in your room for the two days leading up to his arrival as more than ‘a little’.”

“I… I don’t know.” Roku lied back on his blanketed stone bed. “I just don’t know.”

“Hey, hey now.” Gyatso followed suit, folding his hands behind his head. “It’s ok not to know.”

“It doesn’t feel like it is.”

“It never does. But… hey, remember your first ever air bending exercise?”

“Yes?” Roku turned his head sideways to give his friend a bewildered look. “What’s that have to do with this?”

Gyatso’s expression morphed into an amused smirk at the memory. “It took you the first month of your time here to pass through a single wooden panel! They slapped you around like a dead fish because you couldn’t go with the flow.”

Ugh. That. Roku remembered, and he didn’t appreciate having to recall it. His bruises lasted for weeks after. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. I still don’t see how bringing up my basic training exercises are relevant.”

Gyatso shook his head. “Seriously? Roku, you need to do the same thing now as you did when you finally got past all the wood panels.” He paused to sit back up and then made a ridiculously silly wavy motion with both his arms. “Go with the flow.”

Roku couldn’t help but snicker a little at how ridiculous Gyatso looked doing that. “Go with the flow, huh?” He said, and then sat back up as well.

“Yeah! Instead of letting your thoughts and feelings smack you around like a dead fish, move with them.”

By the spirits, of course, Roku thought to himself.

Still…

“I wish my thoughts and feelings were air. At least then I could physically move with them.”

Gyatso laughed and offered a comforting pat on the back. “You’ll get it the more you air bend! Water, earth, and fire are nice, but they’re… oh, how do you put it… they got substance to them. Air is free.”

“Not that you play favorites or anything,” Roku added with a laugh.

“Just say’in.” Gyatso said, and then stood to walk over to the door. “Well… I won’t tell you how you should be feeling, and I don’t think you should be telling you how you should be feeling either, if that makes sense.”

Roku grinned and rolled his eyes. “Yeah. ‘Go with the flow.’ Got it.”

“Don’t think too hard! Your brain could explode and then ooze out of your ears!”

“Ew!” Roku jokingly grimaced. “Ok, ok, I won’t. I promise.”

“G’night!”

“Night.”

The door shut, and Roku was left with himself again.

He thought about his friend's advice and smiled. Gyatso seemed to be the only one who could get him back in good spirits after just a few minutes of talking. Of course, he appreciated and respected the monk’s wisdom, but Gyatso has the advantage of being both a free-spirited air nomad and in the same age group as himself.

It may be through quirky words and goofy analogies, but Gyatso has a wisdom all of his own, and Roku felt that, compared to the monks, that quirkiness and goofiness only helped simplify the message.

‘Go with the flow,’ huh?

Roku’s never had to learn how to do that before.

Until four years ago, he lead a pretty simple, structured life. Everything he needed had always been provided for him, he lived life essentially around the same schedules, and if he ever did come across something that bothered him, it was relatively meager compared to what he had been feeling since he left his home.

In the blink of an eye, his world grew from the size of a small area in the Fire Nation to… well, to the size of the actual world.

Problems that he didn’t know he could have surfaced before him, and the tools required to deal with them were ones he would have to learn and memorize, ‘going with the flow’ being one of them.

When he and Gyatso moved from acquaintances to trusted friends, Roku found he’d been right when he told him ‘you need to think like an air bender to bend air.’ And oh, thinking like an air bender, while it hadn’t been too difficult in hindsight, was proving to be maddeningly frustrating when applying it to non-air-issues… non-air issues like the one that will be arriving tomorrow morning.

Then again, Roku supposes that’s the deal, isn’t it? It shouldn’t matter what the problem is. If he could truly apply his air bending mindset he’d just spent the past four years mastering to his feelings surrounding Sozin’s arrival… maybe. Maybe he could ‘go with the flow.’

Roku fell back onto his bed, knowing full well sleep won’t come to him easy tonight, if at all.

So instead, he tried approaching his anxiety the way the monks had taught him and the way Gyatso suggested.

It was halfway into the night when Roku was successful in doing this. And when he did, he found the answer to his previous question of why he wished Sozin would have just stayed home.

Unfortunately, the answer only led to a thousand more questions Roku had about himself.

He was afraid.

For once, Sozin is glad his father didn’t take the time to see him off on a journey, because if he did, he’s sure he’d be scolded for acting so “immature,” and by immature, Sozin meant his father’s definition of immature: being too happy.

His mother, however, surprised her son by showing up to say good-bye. She even had a small smile on her face, as if she were happy for her son; this especially caught Sozin off guard considering the difficult conversation they had just the other night.

Sozin paused saddling up the last of his things on Shu’s back and patted his blue dragon companion on the snout before turning to bid his mother farewell.

“You came?” He asked.

“Yes.” Her voice was as quiet and passive as ever. “This is the first time you’ve left home completely by yourself.”

“Well,” Sozin idly fumbled with the long sleeves of his robe. “I am an adult, you know.”

“I’m well aware of that. I merely… Sozin, I’m sorry if what I said to you last night was upsetting. I just wanted to prepare you for something that could happen to you—something I know all too well.” She said, a tang of sorrow blanketing her tone.

And Sozin realized right then that he doesn’t want to see his mother in pain. Even if she was far from the doting maternal figure Sozin wished she’d have been to him in childhood, he’d never wish ill will towards her, let alone want to see her in any kind of harm or emotional turmoil.

He owes his life to her, at the end of the day, and he wants to leave their relationship on a good note.

“It’s ok. I… I was never really mad at you.”

Those words seemed to lighten her face and posture, so he continued.

“I guess… I don’t know. I could barely sleep. I was frustrated more with the fact that your words may hold truth to them than you saying them to me yourself.” Sozin explained, and with each word, he felt his shoulders sag a little more.

“The last thing I want to do is make Roku think I don’t respect the fact that he needs his space for all his avatar training.”

His mother was quiet for a moment before walking over to him and doing something she’s only ever done a select few times throughout Sozin’s life—she hugged her son.

Sozin felt stupid that it took a couple seconds before he wrapped his arms around her, returning the embrace.

“Roku is different from those I had to leave behind in life, dear. I could tell since the day you befriended him all those years ago.”

Sozin nodded, holding his mother a little tighter. Who knew when she’d show her affection so openly again?

And then, as if she could read his mind, she continued, “I may not have been who you needed me to be, but I thought the least I can do now is prepare you for life’s unpleasant twists and turns.”

“I…” Sozin felt his heart lurch. His mother only wished to do what she could for him now as an adult. Now that there was no going back and making her son feel a little less alone.

“I’m glad you have Roku to go to.” She said, and then moved to place a light kiss to her son’s forehead. “I hope that he will always be there—that you’ll be there for each other for the rest of your lives, whatever that looks like.”

He now knows where his mother is coming from, and despite the small voice of disgusting doubt in the back of his head that came from her words of caution, he hopes he’s right—he hopes time means nothing for them.

His mother raises a good point, but she admits Roku feels different than those who she’d lost for one reason or another.

Who, though, did she lose?

Sozin then realized he knew next to nothing about his mother.

Hopefully, with time, he’ll have the chance to make an active decision to rectify that.

“Thank you.” He said, because what else was there to say?

“Of course.” She said, and then pulled away to allow her son to finish packing. “Be safe.”

Sozin chuckled. “I’ll try.”

He watched her walk off, followed by her ladies in waiting back into the palace.

Something big and cold and wet pressed against his back and shoved him slightly forward. Sozin turned around and placed a comforting hand on Shu’s snout to reassure him.

“It’s alright, Shu. I’m ok.”

If dragons could look like they were in doubt, Sozin felt that that’s how Shu would look right now.

“Really. Everything’s fine. Let’s go.”

Everything’s fine.

Chapter Text

Even though the mountain peak this temple is built upon has some of the freshest air in the world surrounding it, Roku felt anything but rejuvenated. All the ‘thinking like an air bender’ and ‘going with the flow’ he did last night only seems to have hindered his mind more than alleviate it. He’s sure that given time, he’ll arrive at some form of conclusion. But that day is not today.

It is in fact morning, but because he is so high up in these rocky peaks it feels more like the repulsive, earliest hours of dawn. What’s more, he’s the only one here who has had four years of adjustment to the lack of morning light, and while some may think that would be plenty of time, Roku could wholeheartedly say it certainly is not.

Gyatso teased him for this initially, calling him a ‘poor, poor fire bender who needs the sun to be a functioning human being.’ And yes, Roku thought, this was true. But he wishes the universe would have been a little nicer to him this morning more than any other given who’s arriving today.

The smoothed, stone staircase he’d been walking down came to an end at the temple’s largest courtyard, which is where the monks instructed Sozin to arrive.

The young air nomads who he had been training with for the last four years had been whispering amongst themselves until their eyes landed on the only person here with more than a single strand of hair on their head.

“Roku!” Gyatso’s voice cut through the small crowd and air-balled up to him, leaving Roku’s hair a tad shabby. “Excited? Or are you going to vomit? Or both?”

“Hey!” The young avatar protested, attempting to smooth it down as much as he could using his fingers. “I spent a while brushing this! Not that you’d have any sympathy, of course.”

Gyatso only shrugged before grinning at his friend. “Looks like someone wants to make a good impression. You think you’d care less after all the fuss you made last night.”

Roku huffed and gave up on straightening his hair out any further. At least the hairpiece Sozin gifted to him hadn’t fallen out. If it did, Roku may have actually been upset with Gyatso. “It’s not about impressions. It’s the fact that I took the time to do it and you ruined it with one air scooter.”

The young air nomad simply shook his head before patting Roku’s right shoulder. “As I thought. You’re tenser than I’ve seen you in a while, and this is after you’ve already eaten.”

Roku quirked a brow. “And what does that mean?”

Gyatso smirked. He won’t let up just because his friend is a little tired. “Isn’t it obvious? You get like… so, so cranky when you’re hungry.”

Roku scoffed. “I do not.”

“Yeah. Ya do.”

“Do not!”

“Boys, please, it’s hardly half past morning.” A calm yet firm voice cut off whatever rebuttal Gyatso was about to attack with.

Both their heads turned to see Monk Jin approach them with an amused expression.

The man was, Roku thought when he’d first been assigned as his primary air bending master, old, even in comparison to the rest of the Elders. However, he always spoke and conducted himself with a light, content aura, which made him feel like the youngest Elder.

“Sorry.” They both said in unison and gave a bow.

“Playful banter is all well and good, but I ask you at least wait till noon, especially since we have an important guest joining us for a week.”

“I agree,” Roku said while looking pointedly at Gyatso who started this debacle and nearly every other one between them.

The young air nomad simply shrugged the look from his friend off.

Monk Jin led the two to the edge of the courtyard, where Roku could see the sun about to break past many, many clouds surrounding the temple. Yes, he was incredibly tired from his lack of sleep, but the sight of vast rocky pillars about to be graced with the sun’s warmth never failed to put him at ease.

And then, Roku found he didn’t know what he should be thinking or feeling again, just like the night before, and the night before that one, and all the nights he had lied awake since he received Sozin’s letter saying he’s on his way.

He’d tried doing as Gyatso had suggested. He did try. And he found he was fearful of Sozin’s arrival as a result and he didn’t know why.

Or, maybe he did know, and he didn’t want to dwell on that too much lest he risk becoming completely absorbed in his anxiety. Either way, it wouldn’t do to welcome Sozin with a forlorn face, even if that about sums up his current mood.

“I can’t help but wonder how Sozin reacted to seeing a flying bison for the first time,” Roku said to Monk Jin in an attempt to distract his mind.

He could picture it: Sozin has seen illustrations of the creatures in old texts before, but laying eyes on one in real life…

“Maybe he thought what I did when I first saw them: how can a creature so large fly?”

Monk Jin turned to him with a questioning look. “Bison? No, Roku. Prince Sozin said he had transportation covered in our exchange.”

What? Covered? How? Unless you had a creature that could fly, getting up here is impossible.

“Then what—”

A sudden roar boomed from the distance, making Roku swivel his head to look out across the rocky peaks.

He knew for a fact that there wasn’t a flying bison alive that sounded so fierce. Deep maybe, but that was only because the creatures are as big as they are. This roar… it sounded like…

A flash of blue flicked out amongst the puffy clouds, and just as the sun broke over the crest of the temple’s elevation, a dragon darted up and forward.

A slim, muscled, ethereal blue dragon flew closer and closer and all Roku could do was stand there agape and in awe.

A dragon.

A dragon finally came to halt above the courtyard and began to slowly descend. Monk Jin had to grab his student’s wrist and lead him away so it could land because all Roku could do was stand still and marvel at a creature he’s heard stories about since he was born.

As it’s long body touched down safely, it was then Roku saw him.

Roku saw Sozin.

He saw his oldest friend situated nonchalantly on the back of a creature Roku used to only think existed in world mythology.

And then, just as he did when he’d received Sozin’s letter where he essentially invited himself to the Southern Air Temple, all Roku thought was, ‘Of course. Only you’d somehow wind up on the back of a dragon. Of course.’

All the air nomads rushed over to the dragon. Having never seen one before themselves, they were elated to have this privilege. Even the monks seemed shaken with sublime awe and drew close. Roku was afraid that the marvelous being would growl or thrash backward at the sudden advance of humans it hadn’t met before, but to his surprise, the dragon only huffed and settled in a more grassy area of the courtyard before lying down.

The nomads and monks formed a semi-circle around the dragon, but at a respectable distance.

It was then Roku realized he was the only one who hadn’t walked towards the dragon to greet his friend properly. But… Roku couldn’t seem to get his feet working properly.

Why? He didn’t know, but he suddenly felt like an outcast in a place he’d been calling home for four years of his life.

He even turned away from the group of people—turned away from Sozin.

He’d been thinking about this day since he knew it was coming, but now that it’s finally here… was he ready for this?

“Roku!” A voice shouted his name and broke out amongst the crowd’s chatter.

The avatar turned back around to see Sozin standing tall upon his dragon’s back, hands on his hips, smile as bright as he remembered.

Then he jumped, and he jumped far.

He landed in the middle of the air benders and his friend and hurried the rest of the way until he was standing no more than three feet in front of Roku.

Sozin stretched out both arms and glanced to one side, then the other, and then back to Roku.

“Well. I’m here!” He said. His voice was far deeper than Roku remembered. But, that was to be expected.

Change was to be expected.

But the thing that obviously hadn’t changed was Sozin’s affinity for grand entrances and gestures.

And, of course. Of course, you’d haul yourself in on the back of a dragon, jump off its back, practically land in front of me, and simply say, ‘Well. I’m here!’ Of course, you would.

Roku smiled. “So, you are.”

They stood there for a moment.

Then another moment.

Then another.

And another.

“What’s the matter?” Sozin raised a brow. “Is the all-mighty Avatar too good for a hug from his oldest friend?” He asked with an edge of playful mockery.

How just like you.

Roku wanted to smack himself for just… well, just standing there like an idiot.

“I could ask the same of the Fire-Lord-to-be.” Roku attempted to joke back, even though he was quaking in his skin right now.

So bright.

His smile was so, so bright. As bright as he remembered. The Sun itself.

Sozin only laughed at Roku’s rebuttal before closing the distance.

The hug felt surreal.

Roku logically knew Sozin was right here right now, with him, hugging him after so long.

And, by the spirits he still didn’t know how he should feel, but for Sozin’s sake, he’ll pretend to be filled with joy and return the hug with as much strength as he could.

Upon doing so, Roku immediately realized that Sozin grew a little taller and broader.

“I missed you so much.” Sozin’s voice whispered next to his ear at a volume only meant for Roku to hear.

As much as Roku felt conflicted about this day, now that Sozin uttered those words, the avatar found a lot of the nervousness plaguing his mind wash away.

He was still uneasy, but he couldn’t deny how amazing it felt to be hugged by the one person who’s been beside him since the beginning—the person he trusted like no other and had been forced to leave. The person he—

He’ll deal with his feelings later, he decided.

Now wasn’t a time for thought, but for action.

He tightened his arms slightly, wanting Sozin to know he shared his sentiment.

“I missed you, too,” Roku said.

Pulling away from the hug was like watching the fire you’d rely on in a cold tundra die out—you yearned for just one last wave of heat, but you’re powerless to stop it from dying.

Sozin didn’t want to pull back, but any longer and it’d be awkward for the both of them, what with an entire crowd behind them.

“So,” Sozin said, clasping a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “How’ve you been?”

He watched as Roku chuckled at the question. Sozin didn’t care that he’d found what he said funny. He was more trained on how good it felt to be here, in the present moment with Roku and hearing him laugh again.

“A bit of a loaded question after all this time, don’t you think?”

Sozin returned Roku’s smile. “Good thing you have a week to unload it for me then.”

“Ah, right. We’d best show you where you’ll be staying.” Roku said, and even though it has been a while, Sozin could still pick up on the little nervous hair-twirling gesture he’d seen his friend do whenever he felt anxious.

Sozin would be lying if he said he felt a bit saddened at that. Surly, Roku knew that underneath the physical changes and past the time that had gone by, he had nothing to be nervous about. Sozin was still himself.

Well, he supposes he could dismiss it since they were, in fact, in a public setting.

Oh, right, and he forgot to mention in any of his letters that he’d acquired a dragon companion.

That might be a part of it.

“Of course. Lead the way!” Sozin followed Roku as he walked over to one of the monks.

Based on the way they spoke to each other, Sozin assumed it was this specific monk who had been teaching Roku since he arrived here.

When Roku next spoke to him, it confirmed his thoughts.

“Sozin, may I introduce Monk Jin, my teacher.”

Monk Jin bowed his head out of respect for his royal status, and Sozin did the same since the man was far, far wiser, and experienced than he.

“It’s an honor to meet you,” Sozin said, effortlessly fitting into his guize of regality he’d been taught since he was little. “I’d like to thank you again for agreeing to let me come visit Roku, and for letting me stay.”

“Of course.” Monk Jin smiled. “It is our way to welcome all who come here.”

“I appreciate your hospitality,” Sozin said, and bowed once again for good measure.

“Your room is this way.” Roku tapped his shoulder and pointed towards a long, winding staircase.

Ah, right, mountain terrain.

Sozin was far from weak in the physical sense, but it appears if he wanted to go anywhere here, he’d have to climb.

He thought to himself ‘how did Roku do it for four years,’ but then remembered that, as the avatar, he could air bend, too.

By the time they reached the top of the temple, the sun had made its home in the sky. Sozin was relieved; Shu, while an amazingly durable dragon who had no problem withstanding the elements, needed a good, long bake in the sun after flying across the ocean for as long as they did.

He’ll have time to absorb the full extent of air temple architecture once he was settled, but from the small amount he did catch a glimpse of, there were no bright, accent colors anywhere to be found. Everything was monotonous from the walls to the rooftops to the stairwell they walked on. The decor that did exist was in the form of sculptures and building motifs: a far cry from the Fire Nation.

And, as he expected, his assigned room matched the rest of the temple in its minimalism. However, he suspected that the ‘simple life’ air nomads led extended to all facets of their lives.

“I’ll leave you two to get settled.” Monk Jin said, who had accompanied them up. The man waved a hand before departing from the doorway.

Silence swept across the floor of the room like a light summer breeze; it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, though. Sozin just… didn’t know where to start.

“So. These rooms. I can’t imagine how long it took to get used to.” Sozin turned to face his friend.

He watched Roku shrug. “Surprisingly? It didn’t take long at all to make this place a home-away-from-home.”

“Really?” Sozin quirked a brow and then moved to take a seat on what would be his bed for the next week… if one could call a slab of polished stone a ‘bed.’

A smile grazed Roku’s expression as if he were conjuring a fond memory. “Yeah. Monk Jin told me it isn’t uncommon for the current avatar to feel a pull towards the benders that will welcome the next reincarnation.”

Sozin thought about that and how fitting it was. Roku did always seem a bit more light on his feet than most fire benders.

He smirked at the many many training routines they’d gone through as kids and how he’d won almost all of them. “Well. It seems Monk Jin was right. You’re a fire bender, too, but no amount of training ever seemed to have done away with your light posture and bubbly personality you’ve had since forever.”

“Wh—hey!” Roku’s face changed rapidly, morphing into a slightly irritated expression. And… was that a hint of blush? “I can’t help the way I am any more than you can.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you saying I’d be better off if I was someone else? Someone a little more hot-headed like a certain prince I know?”

The look on Roku’s face, to anyone else, would suggest he meant every word that he’d just uttered, but Sozin could tell the difference between banter and a meaningful jab.

Sozin grinned. “Not your fault you have to spread yourself thin bending-wise. Besides, you honestly think I’d want you to be anyone but yourself?”

Those words got an interesting reaction out of his friend. Roku not only twiddled with the tips of his hair that hung just past his shoulders but also grew slightly more red in the face.

Looks like the shy aspect of him hadn’t changed.

Thank the gods, Sozin thought.

He didn’t know what he’d do with himself if he came here and discovered Roku became more ‘serious’ in his demeanor.

Sozin should have known better. Despite his mother’s words of warning, Roku hadn’t appeared to have changed one bit. At least, on the surface level. But Sozin was allowed to hope, wasn’t he?

“Well,” Roku huffed. “What you said implies the contrary.”

“Seriously, Roku.” Sozin stood from where he had been sitting on his ‘bed’ and walked over to his friend. “Two of me would be a nightmare, wouldn’t you think?” He joked, regarding Roku’s earlier jab.

Roku snickered at that. “When you put it that way…”

“Exactly.”

“One of you is all this world could handle.”

“Hey.” Sozin lightly shoved his shoulder. “Don’t push it.”

“Or what?”

Sozin laughed. He couldn’t help it. Thankfully, Roku laughed along with him after a second or two. He was beyond thrilled at how easily they fell back into their old mannerisms.

What was his mother so worried about?

“Ooor… I’ll go back down to the courtyard and tell everyone about that one time you fell back into that coy pond and wound up with a turtle duck latched to your elbow for ten solid minutes.”

Roku’s eyes widened and he scoffed. “You wouldn’t.”

Wanting his friend to believe even a fraction of the tease, Sozin walked over to the threshold of his room’s door. “Watch me.”

“Ok! Ok. Jeez.” Roku threw his hands up. “You’ll never let that go will you?”

Sozin shrugged. “So long as it brings me joy whenever I remember it, no, I don’t think I will.”

Roku rolled his eyes, but couldn’t mask the fact that he was enjoying their mock-bickering.

“Well… I have plenty of memories of you messing up, too. Like when you accidentally set the porch curtains on fire? Priceless.”

Ah, yes. Sozin remembered that too. It was the most ridiculous thing a trainee could do: attempt a move well out of his mastered zone. His parents weren’t pleased, needless to say. But then, Roku had tried to step in and calm the situation. He’d said how Sozin really, really didn’t mean to do it, and that he’d never try anything too advanced for his current level again. Gods. That had to be when they were at least twelve or thirteen.

Sozin sighed fondly at how even when they were barely considered people, Roku was always looking out for him.

Yes, it hurt far, far more than Sozin expected it to when Roku left, but there’s no one else who would have made a kinder, more compassionate avatar than his closest friend.

He’s happy the world has Roku.

Sozin knew Roku had been far from elated at the news when he’d received it on their shared 16th birthday.

Having air under his belt, Sozin only hopes Roku has found some level of contentment as the avatar.

“Good thing you were there to vouch for me, then,” Sozin said, giving a light pat to his friend's shoulder. “I’m not sure my parents would have let me live another day if you didn’t.”

Roku smiled and shook his head. “They were some of your mother’s favorite curtains, to be fair.”

They talked well into the morning and afternoon.

Sozin felt a little guilty about keeping Roku here for so long. Surely, he had air bending things to attend to, right?

Then again, if Roku did have something urgent to take care of, he most likely would have said so.

They were always honest with each other. It was the main foundation of their friendship.

So, Sozin pushed that little worry aside in favor of listening to Roku.

He talked about everything and nothing. He told Sozin about how many times he crashed and burned before managing to learn how to use his glider. He spoke with awe about the flying bison and how he wishes he could receive a bison companion of his own like all the other nomads did. Roku boasted about the good friend he’d made here—Gyatso—and told Sozin he just had to try the sweet cakes the young nomad made—that they were like tasting the clouds themselves.

At a certain point, they both moved to Sozin’s stone bed to continue their conversation. Well, at least it was a conversation in name. Sozin only spoke to ask another question, because he loved watching how elated Roku got talking about things he liked and how embarrassed he got when discussing his first failed attempts at mastering air. Sozin swore Roku’s expressions could change faster than the wind currents themselves, and he drank in each one of them after being robbed of them for four long years.

By the time Roku appeared to realize how much he’d been talking non-stop, the afternoon began bordering on evening.

“Gosh, I’m sorry. There’s just so much I want to tell you. The Southern Air Temple is amazing, Sozin!”

“Don’t apologize,” Sozin said, and meant it. “Really. I’m so glad to hear you’ve had a good time. I’d be saddened if you came here only to realize you’re miserable so far away from home.”

“Oh, I was.” Roku huffed a laugh. “Devastated, actually. I couldn’t stop thinking about… well, about everything. Before I could even bend so much as a leaf in mid-air, I had to learn how to think like air… if that makes sense.” Roku said.

“Kind of. What do you mean?”

“It was so, so hard to get past that first test I told you about—the one with the wooden panels. But when I was finally able to let go of everything I was troubled about and move with myself rather than against myself, I did it. Or, as Gyatso likes to call it: I just had to ‘go with the flow.’” Roku said and imitated his nomad friend’s swaying arm movements.

Sozin laughed and asked, “Is that really how he told you that?”

“Oh yes!” Roku smiled. “Gyatso is all goof all the time.”

“You must have gotten along right away then.”

Roku shook his head. “I can be serious when the time calls for it, you know. I’m not exactly like how I was when we were kids.”

“True,” Sozin said, and then against his better judgment, moved to place a hand between Roku’s shoulders. “But… I’m glad the parts that make you who you are haven’t.”

Instead of a look of embarrassment at the forward compliment as had happened before, Roku smiled and nodded. “I could say the same for you. I’m… relieved the imperial life hasn’t hardened you. I wasn’t sure how you were going to change… but then, as soon as I read your corresponding letter where you invited yourself to the Southern Air Temple, I knew you hadn’t changed as drastically as I thought.”

“Hey, now.” Sozin playfully shoved Roku where his hand rested. “I didn’t invite myself. I asked politely, and the monks allowed it.”

“Not sure if ‘I’m coming to see you,’ qualifies as polite, but sure, whatever you say.”

Sozin chuckled. “And suddenly you’re the manners police? Since when?”

Roku raised both his brows as if the answer to that were obvious as the sky’s color is blue. “I’m certainly less blunt than you.”

“What. Ever.” Sozin rolled his eyes.

Roku stood up and walked to the door. “Well. Dinner will be ready soon. I’ll let you unpack and come get you in a few.”

“All right.” Sozin stood and walked up to his friend. “Thank you. For talking with me for as long as you did, I mean.” He said. While he wanted to do nothing but talk with his friend well into the night and catch up on everything, he supposes he is getting a bit hungry.

Sozin watched as Roku brought a hand up to fiddle with his hair tips again. But this time, the gesture didn’t feel like it was coming from a place of embarrassment.

“Well, I did do most of the talking. I’m surprised your ears haven’t fallen off already.”

“Nonsense.” Sozin waved his hand through the air. “As I said, I’m glad to hear you’ve had a good time. Heck, I wish I could have joined you. You’ve had more fun than me.”

“Not at first!”

“But still.”

“Ok, well… I’ll show you around anywhere you like in the days to come. I’ll show you what I’ve learned. I’ll even teach you a few moves if you want. Will that makeup for it?”

Sozin gave his friend a questioning look. “I can’t air bend.”

“Doesn't mean you can’t apply the forms to fire bending.”

“True. True.” Sozin nodded.

“Ok, then.” Roku stepped out of the door. “I’ll come by soon as dinner’s ready.”

“Wait—” Sozin reached his hand out and grabbed a hold of Roku’s air bending gi before he could leave.

Roku appeared to be caught off guard at the way he lurched backward at Sozin’s sudden quick movement.

Before Sozin allowed doubt to stop him, he pulled his friend into a hug just as he did this morning.

Roku stiffened at the action but quickly relaxed into it.

Since this morning, all Sozin wanted to do was wrap his arms around Roku and hold him there. Since when they hugged at Sozin’s arrival, the Fire Nation prince had never wanted to let go. Not yet. Not until he could assure himself that Roku was here in the present with him after so long.

“What’s wrong?” Roku’s voice asked next to his ear.

“Nothing… I—it’s just I really, really missed you Roku.” Sozin spoke the truth. Or rather, he spoke it in a way that didn’t reveal why he’d missed him as much as he did.

Roku huffed a laugh and tightened his arms and it felt amazing. “And I you, Sozin. We’ll have plenty of time to catch up.”

“Promise?” Sozin asked as he drew away.

“Of course.”

With a wave, Roku left the room, and the air instantly felt colder.

Chapter Text

To say this was more vegetables than he’s ever eaten before would be an understatement. There were shapes and colors he’s never seen or would have even though vegetables capable of possessing. Sure, he was in a completely different region of the world, but still. This was… a lot of vegetables.

The nomads dined in a quaint, stone hall somewhere in the heart of the temple with the same, modest decor: a simple round stone table with smoother, polished stone seats surrounding its edge. Compared to the palace Sozin called home, the Southern Air temple seemed nothing more than a chiseled mountain top.

He didn’t dislike that about it, though. He’s sure Roku must have come to find it welcoming as a home away from home during his training.

Dinner went just about as smooth as an on-again-off-again fall storm. He couldn’t remember the last time he was bombarded with so many questions. The air nomads were as forceful as they were free-flowing with their interrogation.

Still, Sozin didn’t dislike them for it.

It was a welcomed change from having to bow to everyone you’d encounter within the Fire Nation’s palace halls.

The Elders were the only ones in the room who spoke to him with refinement, but even their words and mannerisms weren’t tied down to anything—like the very element they bent.

Very, very welcomed.

And Roku’s smile and laughter lit up the whole room as he watched his friend get smothered by the nomad’s curiosity.

He truly had hoped to spend this evening’s meal catching up further one on one, but as Roku said to him before, they had seven days for that.

Besides, anytime spent near his friend after going so long without his presence was just as good as banter.

A recurring question from the nomads was if Sozin would demonstrate his fire bending. In response, Sozin glanced across the room and motioned towards Roku. “Only if he agrees to partake as well.”

It elated the Fire Nation prince more than he expected it to when Roku enthusiastically agreed. How long had it been since they sparred? It was far, far longer than before the time of Roku’s departure. He practically couldn’t wait for the sun to rise once again.

By the time Roku escorted him back to his room, Sozin felt like he’d just endured the type of ruthless questioning he remembered from studies in his younger years.

He told Roku as much when he collapsed on his stone bed and his friend laughed.

“You get used to it,” Roku replied, taking a seat next to him.

“I’m amazed you did, to begin with.”

“Well, it’s like I told you. Monk Jin says it’s normal for the current avatar to gravitate towards the nation to welcome the next incarnation.”

“Sure, but four years is… a long time to be surrounded by so much open curiosity,” Sozin shook his head with a huff.

Roku only grinned and shrugged. “Maybe for you. I find it refreshing.”

“For four years? You found it refreshing for four years?”

“Ah—well. Ok, it can be a bit much, but once I warmed up here, it just… became normal.”

“I see,” Sozin said.

Normal, huh?

Will Roku ever have such a thing? Now?

“Well, I don’t want to keep you. You promised to spar tomorrow, and I don’t want to bend at a wilted leaf.”

Roku crossed his arms and snickered. “A wilted leaf? How dare you? Just because I’ve been bending air for a few years doesn’t make me a frail leaf in the wind.”

Sozin shrugged. “I guess tomorrow will prove that.”

“You’re on!” Roku extended a hand, to which Sozin shook with a grin. “I’ll make you eat that doubt.”

Maybe it was the dim lighting in Sozin’s small, stone room, but something within his friend’s eyes seems to have changed. He’s always been curious, eager to learn about the world they live in. That’s just the kind of person Roku is. But now? It’s hard to say. When they talked and laughed it seemed close to old times; when they hugged and shook hands it felt almost the same.

What’s missing?

“I’d like to see you try,” Sozin said. Maybe, maybe there will be a time in the days following to ask his friend about that. Maybe he’ll ask when he finally banishes enough fear to do what he came here to do.

Maybe.

They said their goodnights, and Sozin got ready for bed.

He soon found this is the second restless night he’ll have to endure.

This unknown surge of… whatever this is—it’s not unexpected, but certainly not welcome in the slightest.

He wished he could have greeted the day with renewed energy, but this day wasn’t like any that preceded it because Sozin is here and what do they even begin talking about once catching up is out of the way? After their spar and after Sozin finished getting settled?

It’s not like there’s a guarantee that he’ll be allowed visits like this after mastering the other two elements. He won’t be able to make promises to Sozin in good faith—in hopes of keeping them, like the promises all friends make of what they’ll do or bring to them or talk about next time, because there may not be a next time for a very, very long time.

And by that time? What then? Gods, how old will he have become at that point? Roku shivered with something very close to but not exactly the same as disgust.

He’s thankful for tomorrow’s sparring session. That always takes his mind away from thoughts and focuses it on the next move of a hand, foot, leg, or arm.

As much as he appreciated Monk Jin and Gyatso’s advice, he hardly sees himself “going with the flow” with anything related to Sozin’s abrupt arrival back into his life.

As he dressed that following morning with barely a wink of sleep, Roku found a very, very rare emotion floating amongst the whirlwind of others in his chest: anger. What or who he is angry at he doesn’t know, and he’s angry he doesn’t know that, too.

Roku decided to walk to the courtyard instead of using his air bending. It’s one of the longer routes to the courtyard from his room and he’ll take any extra time he’s allowed to clear his head before he spars. Just because he’s going through whatever this is doesn’t mean he needs to wrap Sozin up in it. His friend doesn’t deserve that, especially after coming all this way to see him (even if doing so is, in part, what has made these ugly little thoughts in his mind surface. Or maybe… they’ve been there before today?)

Light stippled the open courtyard through early morning clouds. Everyone is rallied in a semi-circle around where the Monks chose for the spar to take place.

He was happy his nomad friends could finally see a fire bending match in action. He’s shown them his bending before, but a real match is always a spectacle.

“So, he shows his face.” Sozin spoke to him from the center of the courtyard. “Ready to make me eat my doubt about you being a wilted leaf?”

A low “oooo” washed over the nomads sitting on the courtyard’s edge at Sozin’s testing words, clearly eager for the match to start.

Roku rolled his eyes. “Don’t get too confident off the bat.”

They met with a clasp of hands before walking to opposing ends to begin.

“Kick his butt, Roku!” Gyatso cheered him from the sidelines, making Roku huff a laugh. Despite his earlier mood, the silent walk down to the courtyard coupled with the lighthearted banter that has kicked off this morning has him feeling a bit better.

“Don’t sweat it.” He said to Gyatso before assuming his stance.

Sozin took his as well.

They stood there for a beat, then another, and then Sozin, in his finest bout of chivalry, said, “After you.”

Of course. Gods, there was nothing the world could do to stamp out that jestful confidence Sozin always had, is there?

Without wanting to lose focus, Roku took Sozin’s initiative, and breathed in, turned to the side, and dashed forward before unleashing a white-hot burst of fire aimed at Sozin’s core.

With such a forward attack, Sozin was no donut ready for the blow, blocking it seamlessly before delivering a counterattack at Roku’s legs to most likely make him lose balance.

Ah. He’s still using that one, is he?

Well, unfortunately for Sozin, Roku is both familiar with his friend’s moves and more resourceful with his own fire bending after four years of mastering air.

And so, Roku channeled as many air bending forms and techniques as he could.

Instead of appearing shocked or cautious, Sozin looked… gleeful. He watched his friend move with each blow and eruption of fire that came his way, receiving them with nothing short of what appears to be joy.

Fun.

Sozin is having fun sparring with him.

He never counted himself to be oblivious before, but gods, Roku certainly feels that way now.

Fun.

What had that felt like, again?

Not to say his time spent at the Southern Air temple didn’t have its moments, but he had come here to learn, not… play.

A jab that nearly singed the hair on the side of his head broke him out of his lethargic thoughts. He must have made a stupid expression because Sozin laughed at him wholeheartedly.

“Looks like I’m the one who will be making you eat it today, Roku!”

“C’mon, focus! Don’t make us look bad!” Gyatso cheered at him, and all he could do was sheepishly mouth ‘sorry’ to his nomad friend because Sozin was on him again with another strike, and then another, and another.

Roku dodged until he was nearly backed against his side of the courtyard.

“What’s wrong? Is the wilted leaf scared? C’mon!” Sozin said in between jabs and blows. “Fight me!”

For a reason his brain refused to supply right then, the accusation of him being scared caused an eruption of fire from both his hands that met in the middle, forcing Sozin to draw back lest he risk getting burnt. He released another, and one more before jumping up and landing one towards Sozin’s right side with his legs.

It wasn’t a lethal blow by any means, but it did cause Sozin to stumble back a bit.

Still, he didn’t appear worried at all; he continued to have his fun, which for some reason made Roku unsettled, unnerved.

Why?

“There it is,” Sozin said in between breaths with unadulterated joy in his eyes. They hadn’t been fighting for long, but the precision and accuracy their moves required made this spar become hard work quickly. “There’s that fire.”

Roku was unsure of what his friend meant by that, but regardless, he found he finally had an edge and he wasn’t about to lose it now.

He kept advancing until he had Sozin pressed towards his side of the courtyard. Blow after blow, Roku was sure enough of his victory before he had it—and therein lied his mistake.

With a movement so quick as if he were a viper in human form, Sozin maneuvered away from Roku's latest attack as he was about to throw it, and swerved behind him.

Roku isn’t sure how Sozin had done it, but before he knew it, his back was pressed against Sozin’s front, and his friend’s arm circled around his neck—not hard enough to cut off circulation, but enough to prevent Roku from re-focusing and disrupting his balance.

He found himself encased in a firm grip he’s not sure he had any chance of getting out of, and then, just as he was conjuring ways to get back on top, a small, sharpened blade of roaring fire appeared before Roku’s eyesight.

It’s hot.

So, incredibly hot.

Much hotter than the fire Sozin had been bending since they began.

Sozin’s grip became tighter as well until his chest was practically pressed to Roku’s shoulder blades. His friend drew the blade of fire forward ever so slightly, and then in a raspy, tired, yet somehow also elated voice, whispered, “Give up?”

And Roku wanted to respond but found he was so frozen in the moment that he forgot how to speak—how to breathe.

Sozin’s fire felt as if it were getting hotter with each passing second they stood there, threatening to melt him down, and—Sozin’s body. It’s been pressed up against his for what feels like hours and why—why couldn’t he breathe or speak or move!

In the nomad’s energetic spirit, they all began a five-second countdown for their sparring match.

“Five! Four!”

Either Roku maneuvers out of Sozin’s hold right now or it’s over.

“Three!”

He’s compromised! He needs to move! So why—

“Two!”

Why doesn’t—

“One!”

Why doesn’t he want to?

“Time!”

Just as swiftly as Sozin had him in his clutches he was gone, along with the scorching temperature of his fire blade and the harsh grip on his neck.

The abrupt motion caused Roku to feel like the most molten, white-hot metal being carelessly dropped into the coldest lake on the planet.

His breath is more rugged than any other time they’ve spared and Roku even coughed a little.

Sozin dashed back over to him, resting a comforting, gentle hand between his shoulders. “Whoa, hey. I’m sorry. Too much?” He asked quietly in a voice meant only for Roku to hear.

And Roku would reply if he felt his mind wasn’t torn to oblivion. So, he gave a simple nod instead. Because in the technical sense, yes, he’s ok, he’s alive. He lost, but he has no substantial physical injury from their spar.

Sozin gave a sigh of relief at Roku’s nonverbal confirmation before turning to the crowd of nomads. He took Roku’s hand in his and raised it sky high as if they’d won a monumental battle for the history books. The nomads cheered for them both before swarming over to the pair in a bout of applause.

Roku put on a mask of nonchalant joy if for no other reason than to not concern the nomads, Gyatso, Monk Jin, and Sozin.

Not now.

Later.

He’ll deal with this later.

“What a round! That was amazing!” Gyatso came up to them both with the rest of the nomads following behind him. They gathered around the duo like baby birds would around their mother for food. “Roku! I had no idea you could bend like that! And Prince Sozin! Your style is completely different! How’d you learn? Do you have a favorite move?”

The questions were thrown at his friend as they were at the dinner table last night, but like Roku thought he would, Sozin drank in the attention, attempting to answer each one as best he could while panting harshly with sweat beading down his skin.

Roku would have jumped in on the conversation if it weren’t for his mind still drawing a blank from their match.

That move. The blade of fire, and how close he got.

That’s new.

And it felt—

“What do you say, Roku?”

Sozin’s question broke him out of his haze, if only temporarily.

“Sorry, what was that?”

His friend snickered at his obvious vacant look. “The nomads want to see us spar one more time before I go. Wanna plan for the last day? Go out with a bang, so to speak.” He said with a wink.

“Sure,” Roku mustered. “Sounds good.”

Soon enough, the hype died down and the Monks helped usher the nomads out of the courtyard to give Roku and Sozin some breathing room. Monk Jin brought the two of them some towels and water, which both were very grateful for.

“Outstanding display, Roku. I’m proud to see you apply what you’ve learned here to your fire bending. And it was an honor to witness the regal fire bending style, Prince Sozin.”

Sozin shook his head towards Monk Jin. “Please. Sozin is just fine, Monk Jin.”

Monk Jin gave a light bow. “Alright then, Sozin. I’ll leave the two of you to your own devices. Roku has nothing more to learn from us so please, take this time at our temple to relax and unwind.”

“Thank you again for your hospitality,” Sozin said, and offered a small bow in return.

“Of course. I’ll see you both this evening, then.” Monk Jin gave them both a wave and took his leave.

Sozin moved to take a seat on the stone floor and patted the spot next to him. Roku hesitated for only a moment before sitting down as well. A silence filled the air, and Roku wasn’t sure if it felt as awkward to Sozin if it did to him—he was too anxious to turn his head and get a look at his friend’s expression.

Roku’s sparring loss ran over and over again in his mind, preventing him from simply basking in a quiet moment with his oldest friend he hasn’t seen in four long years.

He felt awful.

More than awful.

He promised he wouldn’t rope Sozin into whatever stupid, unnecessary thing that is clearly still plaguing him from this morning.

He promised.

He should shut his mind up as best he could and just talk to Sozin but—

“Are you going to tell me, or will I have to guess?”

What?

“Huh?” When Roku did turn to face Sozin at that remark, his friend’s expression was blank. It didn’t display the gleeful joy he wore during their spar or any other emotion. He wasn’t even looking at Roku himself. Sozin simply stared off into the clouds bordering the Southern Air temple.

A beat.

Then another.

And then, “It may have been four years, but I still know you enough to know when something’s amiss, and you’ve never acted how you did when we’ve spared before—just… tensing up like that without struggle.”

Roku drew his knees up to his chin. “You… you’ve never used a move on me like that. How was I supposed to act?”

“No.” Sozin shook his head. But his tone wasn’t condescending or authoritative. He sounded as if he were contemplating a ridiculously difficult math problem: curious as well as frustrated.

Roku couldn’t blame him.

“I mean—yeah. You’re right. You haven’t seen all the new techniques I’ve learned over the years, but… that doesn’t explain just… freezing up the way you did, making no effort to free yourself.”

“Sozin, I—”

“You’d tell me, wouldn’t you? If I overstepped something. You’d tell me, right?”

Oh.

Oh.

That’s what he’s getting at?

Sozin sounds frustrated, but not with his friend, rather, with himself because he thinks he’s… hurt Roku in some way?

“I have absolutely no way of knowing what has happened to you all this time, and I hate that. I’m blind. So… are you going to tell me if I’ve overstepped something, or will I have to guess?”

Roku sat there, gobsmacked, in silence for a bit longer than he should have. He just never expected… Sozin could never—why would he ever assume that—

“No!” Roku moved to place a hand on Sozin’s shoulder to get his friend to look at him. “No. Gods, Sozin, I’m sorry I made you—you could never hurt me.”

And when Sozin finally did glance up at him, Roku could see that he looked as frustrated as he sounded. “I’m not talking about a physical wound like a cut or a bruise, Roku.”

Not a physical—oh.

“That, too,” Roku assured Sozin as best he could.

Yes, maybe it was a small, teensy lie, but whatever Roku found himself wrapped up in was not—it absolutely was not Sozin’s fault. And he felt awful that he’s been feeling so distraught ever since his friend got here.

He wanted to tell Sozin. He did. He just didn’t want to give his friend a reason to worry. Being the Avatar has certainly not been all rainbows all the time. It has certainly not made Roku feel good or worthy or sure of the path ahead of him at times, and it has certainly, certainly not gotten better with Sozin’s arrival.

But now. Right now, sitting here with Sozin on the ground—concerned if he’s somehow hurt Roku on an emotional level—it’s occurred to him that these muddy emotions have existed well before he received Sozin’s letter.

Of course, his friend’s arrival is an unforeseen catalyst in his avatar journey, and yes, it’s cause for stress. But whatever Roku found his mind in the middle of sorting out is nowhere near Sozin’s fault.

Whatever this is, it’s a deep, deep uncertainty that has existed since—ugh, Roku didn’t even know when. And for this reason, he wished he could pile up all these nasty little thoughts and shove them away and just be with Sozin and have a good time.

Roku placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. “Please, Sozin. You have nothing to apologize for. I’m just… anxious I suppose.”

Which wasn’t a lie.

“Ok, then. Why?” Sozin asked.

That, Roku doesn’t have the answer to.

“I… I’m not even sure why. But, please. You’re definitely not the reason. I promise.”

Sozin stared at him for a few seconds before sighing and nodding in response. “Alright. If you say so, I believe you. But… I hate seeing you this way. I know it’s been years, but you can talk to me, Roku—about anything. No matter how small.”

When Roku does find out the root of his evil, he’ll be sure Sozin is the first to know.

“Thank you. I’m really glad to still have you as a friend in my life.”

After a few more moments of sitting in silence, Sozin stood and offered a hand to Roku. “How ‘bout you show me where you’ve been holled up for the last four years? I’m really, really interested to see if your stone bed is comfier than mine.” He teased with a smirk.

Roku rolled his eyes and took the hand offered to him.

Later.

He’ll deal with this later.

Chapter Text

Before they caught up anymore, Sozin still needed to unpack a few things and change out of his sparring gi. Roku found himself wandering the temple in the meantime, thinking of what to show Sozin first or what he’d like the most.

Or rather, he tried to do this.

His mind had other plans for him.

Their spar is still freshly burnt into Roku’s head and most likely would be for a while. It had the opposite effect he’d hoped for: instead of giving him clarity it only served to muddle him further. Roku prays with the days that follow this feeling will go away, but as he’s come to realize, whatever this is isn’t going to be solved overnight.

He just hopes he’s competent enough to not rope Sozin into it.

All of Roku’s wandering led him to where the bison were kept. Right at the moment, they were idly sleeping or eating hey or grass—just bison things.

Then, he felt a big rush of breath down the neckline of his gi and whipped around so fast his hairpin could have come undone.

He certainly wasn’t expecting a large, blue, scaly face with sharp yellow eyes to be staring back at him. Roku yelped out of surprise and fell backward, Sozin’s dragon cocking its head at his actions.

After Roku’s mind told him, no, you’re not in danger, he breathed out a sigh and sheepishly stood before this grand, old being who probably knows thousands of more things than he does.

“Sorry,” Roku glanced to the side. “I was expecting a bison.”

The dragon only huffed before moving closer to sniff at the top of his head, but Roku darted back and quickly checked the positioning of his hairpin. Once he confirmed it was still there and in its rightful place, Roku gave an unappreciative look towards the dragon.

“Please, don’t do that. This hairpin is very, very important to me.”

The blue dragon stared at him for only a moment before huffing and lying down in front of him, head turned away. Did he… offend the dragon? Surely if he did, he’d be embers on the ground right now.

Curious, Roku walked around the dragon’s form to gauge its expression and sighed in relief when it had its eyes closed in contentment. He walked slowly towards its form and was almost in arm's reach of being able to touch it when Roku felt eyes on him once more. But when he looked at this creature's face, it harbored no sense of malice. In fact, it patted the middle of the semi-circle it formed with its tail as if to say “take a seat.”

And so, he did.

Roku positioned himself at the dragon’s center so he could still see its face. Those yellow eyes were lidded now and it looked very, very tired. Roku’s sure the journey here would take a toll on any living being with the means to travel—especially when you had to start from the Fire Nation. He lifted up a hand and brought it cautiously towards the dragon’s scales. Seeing no visible objection, Roku placed his hand on this creature’s skin and was amazed at how warm it feels—like holding a freshly brewed cup of tea.

“Thank you for bringing my friend here to see me,” Roku said. “I hope to know your name from Sozin soon so I can thank you properly.”

The dragon lifted its head, shook it a little, and yawned, and then moved its head closer to where Roku could touch it. He ran an experimental finger over the tip of its snout, and then up and down the snout’s ridges when the dragon didn’t protest. So, so warm.

“I’m amazed you haven’t frightened the bison when you gave me a spook so easily,” Roku chuckled.

The dragon made a low, rumbling sound and then pushed its snout further into Roku’s hands. Roku smiled and tried rougher touches—scratches. The bison always loved their scratches, and from the way this creature trilled and sighed, apparently so did it.

“I guess all animals enjoy their scritches, huh?”

Roku scratched and petted the dragon for a while, finding the little spots here and there that the creature preferred more than others. When it seemed to be satisfied, Roku leaned back against the dragon and simply sat there, enjoying the comforting warmth radiating from the blue scales.

“How did Sozin find you, I wonder? Or rather… I wonder how you manage with him.” Roku snickered.

The dragon huffed a breath that tickled his hair before doing something Roku was all too familiar with from hanging around bison—a long, slimy tongue dragged from his waist up to his shoulders. Ugh. Lovely. Roku glared at the dragon with irritation, but his expression softened moments later when it began to whine. It wasn’t one that made Roku think the dragon was injured, but more like… more like it was sad.

Roku quirked a brow. “What is it?”

Roku knew this creature couldn’t verbally respond, but dragons are one of the smartest beings on this planet, so he pondered further on what had it sounding so sad. He tried petting it gently on the snout in an effort to soothe it, but to no avail.

“I’m sorry,” Roku gave up. “I don’t know what you want.”

The dragon was still for a moment before dropping its snout into Roku’s lap, looking up at him with forlorn eyes.

What in the world could this creature want? Was it hungry? Did it miss Sozin? Was it simply still recovering from the trip over here?

All of Roku’s internal questions came to a halt when he felt a small, curious voice in the back of his head. His eyes widened and he felt a cold sweat forming on his brow at the realization it wasn’t his own, usual head-voice.

Lost?

Its question echoed in a smooth baritone across Roku’s consciousness.

He genuinely thought this was a result of pushing himself too hard during the spar… until he looked down at the dragon’s face.

Lost?

The voice repeated. Only, the dragon seemed to tilt its head at the exact moment this new, deep voice asked Roku again.

Was it… no. Really?

“Are you…?” Roku began to say but found he couldn’t think past those two words.

There is no way this dragon is speaking to him, right?

Sure, Roku has heard enough stories to fill many lifetimes about age-old beings communing with humans: the lion turtles, for example. Some people alive in this present day have had experiences, so it isn’t a stretch to say that a dragon—one of the wisest creatures to exist—who has a strong connection with Roku’s oldest friend could perhaps...tune into his aura, or whatever.

Oh, and he supposes he is, in fact, the avatar. Maybe that’s it.

If this is what is happening, and this new, strange voice isn’t just a symptom of physical overexertion… gods, Roku didn’t know what to think about that.

Should he try to speak back in his head? Say something, at least? If a dragon really is trying to communicate with him, shouldn’t he listen?

Except… there really isn’t much to listen to.

Lost?—One word. One question. That’s what the dragon’s supposed voice had asked him.

Roku sighed and leaned back further. He’s certain that when it comes to a dragon, anything they have to say is far from a one off, simple thing. Perhaps, coming from beings such as them, the simplest message is actually the one that holds the most complex meaning.

Lost?

Roku isn’t lost. He’s right where he needs to be.

Maybe… maybe the dragon is just picking up on his uneasy energy? He has been through quite the mental tornado as of late.

He glanced down at the dragon, who still held that same look of sorrow in its yellow eyes.

Lost? He heard it ask for the third time.

Roku rolled his eyes and smiled, lifting a hand to place on its snout.

“Hey, I’m ok. I just fought really hard in a spar with Sozin a few moments ago. I’m not hurt or anything, I promise.”

The dragon was still for a second before pushing its snout into Roku’s hands, making another whining noise.

Roku’s smile dropped. He really wishes he knew what this dragon’s cryptid message meant, but he’s certain he’d need another four years to figure it out—if not more.

Lost.

Roku leaned forward and lied his head down on top of the dragons. He closed his eyes with a small sigh.

He’s not lost.

He’s right where he needs to be—where he’s supposed to be.

Fixing his bun without a mirror for the first time in his life proved to be quite the ordeal. Sozin couldn’t tell if there were any stray hairs—if he needed to do the bun over again. If he wanted to know, he’d have to reach up and brush his hands from the bottom to the top of his head. Not very effective, if he does say so himself.

Sozin supposes the air nomads have little need for proprietary in their wardrobes as they do in their decor. Also, they are all bald. That too.

When Sozin finally got his hair to a point he was happy with, he wasn’t sure what he should do next: sit in his room and sulk for the rest of the day or finally wise up and meet Roku outside.

Sozin closed his eyes and replayed the spar in his head. In the moment, he’d been having the time of his life—fighting against his oldest friend as he had for many years. He’s beyond impressed at how much Roku has grown as a fighter. He’s much lighter on his feet now, but in a way that allows him to wield fire like never before.

He felt so, so proud and happy. And he didn’t think twice in the moment—he thought Roku must have been feeling the exact same way… until Roku froze up.

Sozin is a seasoned enough bender to know when to stop and rethink your strategy versus when to move and never stop moving. Roku had every opportunity to weasel out of his grasp, but he didn’t. At first, Sozin chalked it up to an air bending technique he’d learned over the years. And then, he brought out his blade of fire, hoping to encourage his friend to either move out of the way or lose the match.

Nothing.

Just a shaking stillness… if such a thing ever existed.

Sozin knows he won’t get to the bottom of what’s really bugging Roku until he talks to him about it, perhaps in a calmer atmosphere.

And that’s another thing, too, isn’t it? When has he ever known Roku to keep information from him instead of saying what’s on his mind directly as the thoughts come to him?

Sozin sat on his bed with a sigh, moving his hands up to rub at his temples.

His mother’s voice seized this moment of uncertainty and began floating in his head, throwing around the words she’d spoken just before he had left.

Sozin waved it away with ease and t’sked. Just because Roku’s not spilling the beans about one measly thing doesn’t mean he’s a completely different person now. That’s ridiculous.

He’s probably still got butterflies in his stomach.

Maybe...maybe it’s his dragon?

Sozin did forget to include that bit in his letters. And it’s not everyday one sees said creature alive in person. While dragons were far from in danger of extinction, sightings of them were few and far in between. Sozin himself is viewed as an honorable individual throughout the Fire Nation—not just because of his status, but because he’s gained the respect of the first fire benders.

Of course. Of course. Roku’s probably mad at him for not mentioning this, Sozin reasoned. Of course, he is. Sozin huffed a laugh. Why, if Roku were to pull the same stunt after four years of silence, Sozin would be stunned out of his mind, too, to say the least.

The young prince stood and walked towards the door to his room with a renewed sense of self-reassurance. He’ll introduce Roku to Shu. That should clear the air.

Sozin asked the monks where Roku went off to, but none of them knew. It was up to him to traverse the Southern Air temple until he found his friend, it seems, which is no easy feat when you don’t air bend.

The young prince checked the courtyard where he arrived, the dining hall, and with Monk Jin’s help, the study hall and the hot springs.

Nothing.

Where in the world?

Sozin’s recently acquired sense of self-reassurance was quickly diminishing with each dead end, replaced with the same ugly conclusion: did—did Roku not want to speak with him?

Was it something he did? Said? Sozin couldn’t imagine what it would’ve been that had sent Roku off where he couldn’t be found—not even by the monks.

Sozin was about to call it a day and head back up to his room when a bright, white tuft of fur caught his eye. He followed the tuft until his eyes were met with a field of bison.

Ah, right. The bison yard. He hasn’t checked here yet, though he’s perplexed as to why Roku would want to hang around slobbering, fuzzy, horned clouds for longer than he has to (even if he’d spent four years with them, yuhg).

This is where Shu is staying for the remainder of the week, though. Sozin supposes he’ll take Shu with him, should he run into Roku. That way he can introduce them to one another, and with any luck, that will cure Roku’s vow of sudden secrecy.

Sozin kept walking amongst the idle bison until he spotted a flicker of blue.

Ah, there he is. Right. He’ll get Shu and then—

Well… it seems as though Roku and Shu were able to meet and get along just fine without Sozin’s help.

The young prince approached the two slowly, not wishing to interrupt their nap. Poor Shu flew all the way here without rest, after all, and whatever is bothering Roku seems to have tired him out just as much—plus their spar. That, too. Sozin doesn’t know when Roku had last bent fire, but judging from their match, he reckons it’s been quite some time.

Taking a seat a few feet in front of the snoozing pair, Sozin idly toiled with the grass beneath him—ripping some strands out and piling them next to the forming hole of soil. Of course, he thought with a smile. Of course, Shu would immediately take to Roku. He’s told his dragon companion time and time again about his oldest friend—it would make sense Shu would be eager to finally meet him.

He’s glad.

Maybe, when Roku completes his avatar training, he’ll find a dragon companion of his own. He’s more than worthy of one, Sozin knows.

The young prince isn’t too concerned with how much time has passed since he found his two friends and sat down with them. Monk Jin did say to relax and unwind.

From the moment he arrived, Sozin realizes he hasn’t really gotten a chance to stop and be still until now. Meditation sessions were few and far in between now that he’s grown—taking on more and more responsibilities.

Sozin raised his head to breathe in the fresh, cool mountain air. He remembers when he and Roku used to meditate together by the palace pond or inside the palace garden—just taking a couple of moments out of the day to stop and be within the world around them.

Even if Roku is asleep at the moment, it’s beyond gratifying and refreshing to be with him like this once more.

Judging by the lighting outside, dusk is fast approaching. Golden streaks of setting sun blanketed the mountain top. It created a soft twinkle as it bounced off Roku’s hair ornament—the one he’d given him.

Had he been wearing it all this time? Or did Roku only put it on in lieu of his friend's arrival? Sozin found himself hoping for the former. It’s the one piece of home—of him—Roku had been allowed to take on his journey.

Sozin is thankful for the artifact’s simplicity. Any more glitz and glamor on it, and he’s sure Roku would have declined. The young prince chuckled. Despite being the son of a noble family, Roku has always been modest at heart.

He must have felt right at home here, at the Southern Air temple.

The young prince scooched a bit closer to both of his sleeping friends. What would Roku say to him if he found out he had just been… sitting here, watching him sleep? Would he be upset? Angry? Indifferent? Sozin thought he knew all his friend’s reactions and opinions like the back of his own mind, but the aftermath of today's spar has proven otherwise.

But Sozin isn’t mad at that. A part of him is actually… excited to get to know all of the new sides his friend has acquired over the years.

A light breeze suddenly came through and tussled Roku’s hair. Sozin watched his friend unconsciously shake his head to get the stray strands out of his face. He huffed a laugh. The young prince couldn’t imagine practicing air bending with so much hair. He’s surprised Roku hadn’t at least cut it shorter.

Upon closer inspection, there were still a couple of rogue hairs out of place that were blocking Roku’s face. Without a second thought, Sozin walked over on his kneecaps to gently brush the strands out of the way. He’s thankful his friend is a heavy sleeper—Roku didn’t so much as budge at the action.

Sozin was about to move back to his spot when he realized just how much Roku’s face had physically changed. From afar, Sozin hasn’t noticed anything, but up close now, it is apparent that yes, time has passed since they’ve seen each other; Ruko’s jawline is far, far more defined, and the structure of his cheekbones have become more apparent as well. Tracing his eyes downward to Roku’s shoulders, it’s clear he’s filling out his frame quite well. Looking back at his face, Sozin recognizes those same kind features he’s known and cherished for so long.

Sozin cursed his own thoughts.

None of this is practical, is it?

Maybe he should have listened to his parents and stayed home. Yes, he needs to tell Roku—he’s certain he won’t be able to sleep again if he doesn’t. And honesty has always been and will forever be at the core of their bond. But surely a letter would have sufficed? That’s what his mother had said.

But, no.

A letter is so formal and so cold—the exact opposite of how they are with each other.

Yes, Sozin reasoned. Coming here was the right decision, but the aftermath of it is proving to be difficult to navigate. He’s battling against time, too. He only has a week.

Sozin just needs to find the right time to break the ice—if he can. Talking to Roku in of itself isn’t the issue. But he already has so much on his plate as the avatar. Sozin’s only reservation is unnecessarily adding to that load (and possibly losing his friend in the process).

Against his better judgment, he traced the line of Roku’s hair from the tip of the scalp to behind his left ear.

Whatever. Maybe it will be adding to already existing avatar-stress Sozin couldn’t possibly begin to understand, but this is how he feels. Complete honesty, he reminds himself. Sozin feels as if he’d be doing Roku a disservice by not talking about it.

And… if Sozin’s hope gets realized—if both their souls haven't been affected by time—then, how he feels should matter to Roku as much as how Roku feels matters to him.

Sozin traced the knuckle of his index finger down from the back of Roku’s jaw to the front, relishing in how peaceful and gentle his features are—that much hasn’t changed, thankfully.

Maybe he’s doomed to forever be selfish and to forever screw up the only relationships that have ever mattered to him, but Sozin would rather have a harsh truth than no closure at all.

The young prince only wishes that, when the dust settles, he and Roku could still continue to be friends—and to truly indulge in idealistic, wishful thinking, for them to not only break the ice but also melt it away forever.

Upon opening his eyes, Roku certainly wasn’t prepared for the site he was met with: Sozin is sitting cross-legged a few feet in front of him, one hand supporting his head, eyes closed.

Roku also noticed how the lighting outside had changed. He must have been sleeping for a while. But he couldn’t help it—not when Sozin’s dragon is so warm and comfy to lie against.

He rubbed his eyes and sat up straight. He hopes he’ll be able to sleep at all tonight having taken such a long nap.

Should he wake Sozin? While he doesn’t appear to be in a deep sleep, Roku would hate to disturb him either way.

A light trill came from the dragon, who still had its head perched comfortably in Roku’s lap. Yellow eyes slowly opened, and when they were met with the sight of their companion, the dragon slithered over to him and nudged him until he was also awake. So much for not disturbing him.

Roku watched as the dragon unceremoniously nudged Sozin a bit too hard, causing him to topple over to the ground. He would have made an effort to see if Sozin was alright, but Roku reasoned this isn’t the first time his dragon did this to him.

“Whoa—hey! Ok, ok! I’m up! Yeesh.” Sozin said, and then got to his feet and dusted himself off. His dragon responded in kind with a generos lick to the side of his face.

Roku laughed at that, watching Sozin grimace and attempt to wipe off his dragon’s slobber. “Ugh. I’ll never get used to you doing that. Never. And hey! Quit laughing! It doesn’t come out of fabric as easily as you’d think, you know.”

“Awe, I think it’s endearing, Sozin,” Roku said, unabashed amusement clouding his expression. “You should be honored that your dragon is affectionate with you. They are the first fire benders, after all.”

“Whatever,” Sozin rolled his eyes. “Still gross.”

Roku heard a small whine from the dragon and it moved to nudge at Sozin’s shoulder. He sighed before patting its snout. “I’m only teasing, you know that.” And then, Sozin did something Roku wouldn’t have expected him to do; he leaned in to place a small, quick kiss between his dragon’s eyes. “There. Better?”

In response, the dragon whirled around and around in a circle in the air with Sozin at the center of it. It then drew the circle in close in a coil before nuzzling its snout against Sozin’s head.

“First my clothes and now my hair? They don’t have mirrors here. It’s painful enough to fix it without you rustling it.”

“Oh goodness. The poor firelord-to-be falling victim to messy hair. A tragedy,” Roku said as he walked over to his friend. “How will the Fire Nation ever cope?”

“I don’t know what I did to deserve this harassment.”

“Wh—harassment? As if. Besides, you made the decision to come here. Now you’re stuck with me and—ah, actually, does your dragon have a name?”

“Of course he does. Shu, meet Roku. Roku, Shu. There. Now the two of you can be the best of friends and conspire against me.” Sozin crossed his arms.

Roku only laughed, knowing Sozin wasn’t truly offended in any way. He slung an arm around Sozin’s shoulders. “But aren’t you my best friend?”

“I don’t know,” Sozin shrugged. “You and Shu seem pretty chummy already.”

“Alright, alright. I’m sorry. Is that what you want to hear?”

“Well… I guess staying mad at you won’t help the state of my hair.”

“As if you were ever mad, Sozin.” Roku grinned, and then pulled him in closer by his shoulders to tussle his hair even more. “I could do this every day and get away with it.”

Sozin briefly struggled before Roku loosened his grip, freeing his friend from having his hair permanently tangled. He crossed his arms and looked away. “Think whatever you want.”

“You know I’m riiiiight.” Roku taunted, and then gave him a playful shove on the shoulder.

He watched Sozin spin around and glare at him only for a few moments before dropping character. The young prince huffed a laugh before returning the shove. “Doesn’t mean I have to admit it, though.”

“Oh, c’mon—”

“No.”

“Ugh, fine. So long as we both know I’m in the right.”

“Whether you’re right or not, my hair still remains a mess.” Sozin motioned to the many, many strands of misplaced hair cocooning the piece Roku gave him.

Roku couldn’t keep a straight face for long and snickered. “What do you mean? It’s an improvement!”

Sozin rolled his eyes at that remark before marching right up in front of his friend and jabbed a finger at his chest. “You’re helping me fix it. I can’t stand before the monks looking like this.”

Roku only smiled. “Have you always been this vain?”

“Wh—vain?! Roku, wanting to get your hair out of your face is hardly being vain.”

“I’m just kidding! Just kidding!” Roku held his hands up in defense. “Of course, I’ll help you. As you said—no mirrors.”

Chapter Text

“Hold on a sec, I’ll light a candle,” Sozin pillaged through the small number of material items within a stone chest on the opposite side of his bed.

He uttered a small ‘ah-ha’ to himself as he found two. The young prince placed one on each side of his bed before lighting them with a snap of his fingers.

“Still a showman, I see,” Roku rolled his eyes and then took a seat. And then, in a mocking voice, “He can light a candle with a mere snap of fingers, ooo.”

“You need to stop if you want me to tolerate you any further,” Sozin suppressed his laughter in favor of finally getting his hair sorted out. By the time he gets back home, his parents will wonder if he’d gotten swept up by a tornado. “Besides, that’s how I’ve always lit candles. You just want an excuse to irritate me—gods know why.”

“You try being isolated with people who aren’t used to your humor! I missed my personal punching bag,” Roku grinned, and to emphasize his words, gave a light swat to Sozin’s shoulder once he sat down beside him. “Only in the verbal sense, of course.”

“Ha! As if,” Sozin batted his hand away. “You love taking shots at me.”

“And you don’t enjoy making me eat dirt when we spar?”

“I am a few minutes older than you,” Sozin shrugged. “It’s only fair.”

“Yeah, yeah. Doesn’t your precious hair need tending to, highness?”

Sozin looked pointedly at his friend. “Don’t you dare try to change the subject.”

Roku crossed his arms and turned his nose to the ceiling. “Do you want your hair sorted out or not?”

He huffed and turned around. “Fine. You’re right—this one time, and one time only.”

Roku laughed whilst turning to grab the small brush he kept at his bedside. “I’ll treasure it forever.”

Light this dim isn’t preferable for what Roku needed to do, but some light is better than none. And Sozin wants this done before dinner this evening, so he supposes he’ll have to make do either way.

“Any style requests?”

“Just make me look dashing.”

Roku rolled his eyes. “What? More so than you already are?”

Sozin gasped and put a hand to his chest. “Wh—a compliment? From the avatar? I’ll never forget this day—”

“Don’t tempt me to pull harder on your tangles than I need to,” Roku said, giving a couple loose strands a light tug to emphasize his point.

“Ow! Abuse! Abuse!”

“You’d be dead by this point if you could get hurt so easily.”

Sozin could only hold up the facade for a few seconds before laughing it off, Roku following after him.

It seems like forever since either of them had a laugh this good.

Brushing out his friend's hair is a nostalgia trip for Roku. He lost track of how many times Sozin’s mother became cross with him whenever the young prince would rough house with other noble children—his hair becoming nothing short of a rat-bird's nest. For the times Sozin’s mother had been busy, Roku offered to restore his friend’s regal profile if anything just to get her off his back.

Not that Sozin cared for any such thing in the first place.

They talked about everything and nothing as Roku began dissecting his friend’s unruly mop. Sozin’s hair had always been a bit thicker than his own, making it harder to sort out.

But Roku doesn’t mind—he never did. It never mattered what activities they did together so long as he got to see his friend, even at boring, mandatory court sessions. In hindsight, Roku had felt somewhat relieved when he departed for the Southern Air temple. He’s sure he’d need to attend even more of those meetings if he’d followed his father's wishes and became a scholar.

Though in a way, Roku may as well be one as the avatar.

As Sozin’s hair became more manageable bit by bit, these passing thoughts made him wonder what his life might have been like these past four years if the universe hadn’t chosen him.

Maybe he would have become a scholar—a noble scholar of the royal court.

Maybe that way, boring court meetings aside, he would never have had to worry about or question whether Sozin’s path would veer away from his own.

He would have never had to leave his most cherished friend to grow up by himself.

Come to think of it, they haven’t really gotten far into the whole “catching up” thing. Roku realizes it’s only been a day and a half, but he thought he’d be quicker to tell Sozin all about his avatar journey thus far.

...would Sozin even want to hear about it?

Would he want to hear about all the frustrating, amazing, fun, and troubling things he’s experienced while he’d left him for four years?

Roku didn’t like this new feeling in his chest born from these thoughts—the feeling that wound tightly around his ribs and lungs because he might say or do the wrong thing and how was he supposed to know what Sozin liked these days or didn’t like—

“Roku?”

Sozin’s voice snapped him out of the hole he’d been digging for himself.

His head jerked up from his current task, and he meekly responded, “Yeah? What is it?”

“You’ve got a bit quiet is all. Everything ok?”

What a silly question. Of course, everything’s ok. His best friend came out all this way to see him and here they were shooting the breeze as if nothing at all had changed.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

It was Sozin’s turn to grow quiet then. Roku hated that he couldn’t see his friend’s expression this very second. Sozin was rarely quiet. His silence had always meant one of two things—fatigue, or that something was troubling him.

While there could be some post-spar tiredness lingering, Sozin has always been the embodiment of stamina in all aspects of life.

Great.

What did he do? Not even three days in, and Roku has managed to trouble Sozin in some way.

And he wasn’t about to ask, because deep down, Roku knows.

But where would he start? Should he open with the fact that he’s missed Sozin so much that some nights he’d lie awake with a potent ache in his chest? Or maybe that since he left the Fire Nation Roku’s felt nothing but a deep sense of guilt and despair—that the empty look Sozin gave him as he flew off with the monks has haunted him ever since? That he’d relinquish his position as the avatar if it meant never having to leave his side like that ever again? That he’s sorry, he’s so, so, so sorry.

Or maybe the truth would be more appreciated: soon, Roku would have to let go of Sozin and everyone else he’d ever forged a bond with entirely because he doesn’t even belong to himself now—he belongs to the world. And the world demands their perfect avatar.

Could he even put that on Sozin? Would Sozin even understand in turn? That Roku couldn’t be the childhood friend he grew up with anymore lest he disappoints every living, breathing person on this planet?

The last thing Roku would ever want to do is belittle anyone’s pain—especially Sozin’s. He’s known what his friend’s situation has been like for a long, long time: a distant father, a troubled mother (as much as she sought to hide it), and a life of near isolation as the Fire Nation’s prince. And now, the only one he could fully confide in having to leave him.

Like hell Sozin needs the addition of avatar issues. Like hell he needs the one who abandoned him telling him how hard life is because “oh, I’m the avatar and I’m special.”

Roku wonders how long he’ll be able to hold back the truth in hopes of sparing his friend.

He wonders when he began thinking he needs to hide anything, let alone the truth. from Sozin.

Because he really wants to tell him.

He wants to tell Sozin everything the monks and the world have been teaching him about how his life will be moving forward and that he doesn’t like it at all and wishes he could just disappear.

Sozin of all people has the right to know.

He should know.

But could Roku tell him?

Could he do that without coming across as a small, helpless thing that literally has the weight of the world on his shoulders—a victim of fate? Roku doesn’t want to breathe a word until he knows he can do so in the right, respectful, considerate way.

In the midst of his thoughts, Roku hadn’t realized that he had successfully detangled Sozin’s hair and is now gently brushing it just because.

“Sorry if it’s extra thick,” Sozin’s voice echoed in his ears. “My hair isn’t used to being in a windy environment.”

“Ah—no, you’re fine. I think I almost got it.”

“And you didn’t pull on it once. Impressive,” Sozin huffed a laugh.

“I’m smart in some sense, you know.”

“I know. That’s why we’re friends. Our intellect is separate from the rest—better. More sophisticated,” Sozin emphasized the last word with a grand gesture of the arms as if he were presenting an important guest in the royal court.

Roku chuckled. “Since when have you exercised sophistication?”

“Hey—I can be princely!”

“Sure. I believe in you.”

“Cruel.”

“I’d watch your tone when talking to someone holding your hair.”

“It’s not even tangled anymore. I can feel that much.”

“Yeah,” Roku glanced to the side sheepishly, even though he was facing away from his friend. And then, in a moment of sincerity through all the whit, “Is it wrong I enjoy pampering you?”

Sozin laughed, only making Roku feel more embarrassed. “You’re the only one who does so willingly. How could I say no?”

He felt Sozin shift and removed his hands from brushing hair. Sozin leaned back until he was looking at Roku upside down. “Besides, it’s nice—therapeutic.”

And how could Roku not return that stupidly joyous smile?

“I’m glad. I… missed this. A lot. I missed you.”

Roku watched Sozin spin around, his expression switching from amused to concerned. He put a hand on his shoulder and leaned in a bit, the dim lighting casting a dramatic shadow over his face.

“Hey. Time means nothing to us, remember?”

“I know, I just—sometimes it’s hard to ignore… especially with the aging, y’know?”

“I know,” Sozin said, and then took the brush from his hands, set it down, and drew his friend into a side-hug, motioning for Roku to rest his head on his friend’s shoulder, which he did.

“I missed you a whole lot, too, Roku. But I never thought too much of it. I knew you’d be the same person that I’ve known all my life—avatar or not.”

And combined with the existing guilt he has the displeasure of marinating in this evening, that last remark is what drove him over the edge—made him cry, and he wanted to burrow up in a hole and die.

He has absolutely no right to be crying, especially in front of his friend who came out all this way to see him. He isn’t even sad! Or at least, he doesn’t think he’s sad—a bit nervous at Sozin’s appearance back in his life, but not sad!

Roku’s cry is silent, Sozin only realizing his friend’s predicament when a teardrop hit the top of his hand.

His reaction was instant and swift, pushing Roku up to confirm his suspicions.

“I’m sorry,” is all Roku thought to say, feeling like the most insignificant speck of dust in the universe. “I don’t—I’m not sure why—”

“Whoa—hey, hey, it’s ok. What’s wrong? Did I do something or say something? Is this from our spar?”

“No, no, gods no, Sozin. This has nothing to do with you. Ugh. I’m not even sad!”

“Then what is it? Is there anything I can do to help?”

Roku has never truly hated himself before. Not really. Sure, he has some traits about himself he may not like, but this—it’s new. It’s a thick, black, bubbling feeling that he can’t break away from. Why in the world? Why, out of every other time in his life, does he only now have these disgusting reservations about being honest with Sozin?

“I don’t think so. Not now, at least. I don’t even know what’s wrong with me,” he said.

And he hates the way Sozin is looking at him—like he’s some sort of pitiful little thing.

“Well...ok. I uh… I’m not sure what to do now.”

“That makes two of us,” Roku huffed a laugh, despite his defeated mindset.

A brief silence washed over them. Sozin drew him in for another hug, but this time a full one front-to-front. He didn’t say anything, but Roku could feel how tightly his friend gripped at his back and shoulders and it spoke volumes.

If he knew anything about Sozin, it’s that he’d rather watch the world burn than allow any harm to befall his oldest friend.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, Roku.”

“But—Sozin I want to,” he gripped him tighter, shaking him a little. “I want to,” he said, because it’s the truth. He does. More than anything.

“Alright. Ok,” Sozin reached out and placed his hands on his friend’s arms in turn. “You tell me whenever you’re ready to, then. Sound good?”

Roku pulled back to wipe as many tears away as he could without a proper cloth, somehow feeling heavier now versus before he started to cry.

“Yeah. Ok. I’m sorry,”

“Goodness, Roku, please. Don’t apologize to me, you have nothing to be sorry for, ok?” Sozin said, and then reached up with one hand to help wipe away tears.

He watched his friend’s eyes as he did so, and Roku knows Sozin holds nothing but compassion and empathy for him in those eyes—so why does it feel like pity when he knows that’s ridiculous?

Roku took a breath, reaching up to place his own hand over the back of Sozin’s palm currently cupping his face. He may not know what his own mind wants right now, but he does know that if he were in Sozin’s position, he’d want something—anything to substitute for an answer.

“Ok. What’s the use of having a best friend if you can’t tell each other secrets, right?” he attempted to joke, his usual humor feeling hollow.

Luckily, Sozin either didn’t notice or brushed it off in favor of comforting his friend.

“You know it!” Sozin gave his arm a pat before standing. “Now that my hair is fixed, we should join the others. Not that I think I can live through any more veggies. I’m surprised you’ve gone four years without an ounce of meat.”

“You get used to it,” Rokus said, standing and walking towards the door. “Unless you’re still the bratty little kid who refused to eat his greens growing up.”

“Roku, I swear to you, if I ever find a vegetable that I actually like, you’ll be the first to know.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Roku huffed a laugh, flashing his friend a smile and following behind him on their way to dinner.

Roku’s mind buzzed the entire way up with terrible thoughts. For one reason or another, something’s changed in his mind after the spar. And this damn guilt—it’s far different than any amount of anger or frustration he’s experienced before.

It makes each and every word he speaks to his friend feel disingenuous and empty.

Chapter Text

Despite not enjoying vegetables in general, Sozin had to give it to them—the monks knew what to do in terms of seasoning. He supposes they have to in order to make food mildly interesting up here. He’s certain even the biggest pacifist could throw a fit if they had to eat vegetables raw for their whole life.

Upon ascending to the dining hall, Sozin noticed almost immediately how Roku walked just a few paces further behind him than anytime before. He can hardly blame his friend. That was quite the heavy conversation, and he himself would appreciate some breathing room to decompress afterward. A nice, warm meal and conversation with the nomads ought to do the trick.

At least… he hopes.

Sozin can’t quite place it, but ever since he and Roku had been reunited there's been this… shadow. That’s the best way the prince could describe it. In childhood, Roku had always been an untamable ray of light to everyone he’d come across, greeting them and seeing them with unassuming eyes and a brilliant smile.

Those aspects of his friend are still there, of course, but like how anyone with eyes could tell the difference between a full moon and a waning gibbous, Sozin can see it in Roku’s eyes, in his mannerisms, and feel it in his aura. There’s a small amount of something threatening to eclipse the beautiful light that is Roku’s soul and it’s killing Sozin he doesn’t know what.

Of course, he’ll respect Roku’s wishes. His friend can come to him and discuss whatever he wants to in his own time… but how long will that take? A deep conversation via written letter that takes at least a week for response time isn’t exactly meaningful.

A pang of existentialism struck Sozin’s gut at that; there wouldn’t be much time for meaningful moments regardless, huh? The image of his mother and her words flooded his mind, telling him in the most condescending way “I told you so” and “I was right the whole time” and “you should have never left home to save yourself the heartbreak” amongst other things. But mostly those. Mostly the things that will hurt Sozin the most.

And the one thing stopping them from breaking him down completely is the fact that right here, right now in the present moment he’s here, sitting next to his oldest, best friend conversing over what had to be Sozin’s least favorite type of vegetables: cruciferous ones.

It made him laugh within the conversation, and he shared with the monks just that. It made them laugh, too.

And Roku also laughed and then moved to recount the many occasions growing up where Sozin would find the most inconspicuous places to hide those cruciferous veggies the times they were served. It turns out, Roku shared, his hiding spots weren’t as stealthy as he suspected and his mother gave him an earful each time she’d find a stray cabbage or brussel sprout rolling across the palace grounds.

And Sozin was right back to laughing along with the table.

Yes, he thinks.

This is it. Above all else, even if he doesn't accomplish what he came here to do… Sozin gets to see him smile, laugh, embarrass his friend and—gods, his smile. Sozin could stare at it forever; he’d stare at it and mimic it back and k—

“Sozin! You gotta have beans to spill about Roku! Don’t let him embarrass ya like that, princey-boy,” Gyatso’s voice ruptured his trance. Thankfully, all his royal training prevented him from making a scene about it.

“Ah,” the prince sheepishly rubbed at the back of his neck. “I hate to break it to you, but Roku was and forever will be a boring goody-two-shoes.”

A chorus of “no” washed over the table, all of the airbenders-in-training exercising overwhelming disappointment from hearing there wasn’t any tragic backstory or deeply covered secret.

“Now, now, boys, calm yourselves,” Monk Jin held up a hand and they were effectively silenced.

That certainly surprised Sozin—the way a man so un-intimidating as Monk Jin could render a room of rowdy ruffians silent. It was right there Sozin understood the true breadth of respect and admiration the young monks have for their mentor. Not fear-based, not unapproachable, but the opposite of those things—the opposite of Fire Nation royalty.

He’s glad, Sozin thinks, that Roku had Monk Jin first as his teacher. He has a gut feeling that neither the Water Tribe nor the Earth Kingdom would have given Roku as warm of a welcome. And, boy, does Sozin know he’d feel much more confident if the shoe were on the other foot.

“But, Monk Jin! You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to know who Roku really is,” a few of the others goaded their mentor on, to which Monk Jin merely smiled and laughed.

“Nonsense. I already know all I need to know about our Avatar-to-be.”

That got a reaction from the boys as well as Roku, Sozin noticed. And, of course, he himself is curious as well. What could Monk Jin know about Roku that’s so concrete and so phenomenal that he feels he’s known him as long as his childhood best friend has?

Everyone at the table leaned forwards in anticipation of the wise man’s words.

Monk Jin only shook his head and sighed. “It’s so obvious. You’re all my students and not even one of you understands,” he said.

A beat or two passed over everyone before the elder enlightened them.

“Roku, like any of us, merely must need to exist. Do that, and you’re no different than any other person who has existed before you and who will exist long after you’re gone. Therefore, I know all I need to know—about Roku, about you lot, and about all other life on this world we call home.”

The young airbenders' reactions were mixed, but most rolled their eyes, saying things like “here we go again” or “can we go one dinner without a profound lecture?”.

But not Roku.

Sozin gaged his reactions throughout this whole interaction, and the moment Monk Jin concluded his speech was the moment Roku’s face seemed to have frozen up in eternal, sublime awe. And Sozin feels a little of that too, but he felt it in a different way.

If Sozin had to guess, right now, Roku’s mind was running rapidly with thoughts of “no way” or “you’re just being nice”. The prince, however, took the side of Monk Jin. Not just for Roku, but for himself as well. He can’t even remember if his own parents said anything remotely true or comforting to him like that—“you merely must need to exist and you’re enough”.

Rather, his whole life (as Roku knew, too), he’s never been proper enough, serious enough, sophisticated enough, or princely enough for the ones he wanted love from the most.

But having just listened to Monk Jin, Sozin supposes… well, maybe air is called the element of freedom for good reason. Because that’s exactly how he felt when Monk Jin spoke those words—free.

And the only other few, precious, bright times he’s ever felt free before this was when with Roku—playing pranks, jabbing jokes at each other, sparring, sneaking out of royal meetings to feed the turtle ducks instead.

To hell with my mother’s words, he thought.

Monk Jin just confirmed it—Sozin’s right where he needs to be doing exactly what he needs to do.

He just hopes Roku can say what he needs to before time steals away the chance.

Warm.

That’s how Roku would describe how he’s feeling.

The vegetables are delicious and plump, Gyatso is sharing his usual jokes that don’t land as flawlessly as he lets himself think, and Sozin—Soniz’s smiling. Gosh. Roku… finds himself trying to remember if he could recall a moment before this where he remembers exactly what his friend looked like smiling.

A pang of shame burst open his chest at the realization of, no, not really.

He glances back over at Sozin, who’s hiding his cringe with a smile at the taste of the cruciferous vegetables (even when he puts a disturbing amount of seasonings on them). It made Roku crack a smile as well.

In this moment, right here in the present, Roku’s actually thankful his friend barged in on his training. Because if he can barely remember this smile after four years… he doesn’t even want to think about what eight would do.

Sozin glanced over at his friend, who was currently referencing him in a story to add to the conversation topic. Roku laughed along to act as if he’d been listening and not idly staring at his friend.

Then Gyatso asked him a question about their past, and so Roku graciously bestowed upon them Sozin’s “veggie espionage”, as he liked to call it. One tale of veggie-hiding after another had Sozin blushing something fierce. It’s almost as if he’d accidentally set fire to his own cheeks and just put it out. He almost said it’s adorable out loud, but chose to instead preserve what little dignity his friend most likely had at that moment.

Then, of course, his nomad friend just had to ask Sozin for dirt on him, too.

He looked over at the prince to give him the “don’t you dare” look, but found his friend oddly… bashful.

After a few moments, Sozin said the most bubbcus thing—“oh, no, Roku’s the golden child, he can do no harm or wrong”, etcetera, etcetera, ugh. Yeah. Paint him as the most uninteresting person ever, why don’t you.

His nomad friends had every right to be disappointed. Roku, for their information, could be as cool and mysterious as his royal best friend.

Just as he was about to cut in, Gyatso turned to their mentor and tried egging him on to ask Sozin more because, “you’re curious, too, aren't you?”

Roku has no doubt Monk Jin would be passive on the matter—not wishing to get involved in any young-people shenanigans. And, truth be told, he didn’t. But what he said instead piqued Roku’s interest to say the least.

“Nonsense. I already know all I need to know about our Avatar-to-be.”

He knows this man is a legend when it comes to air bending, but… there’s no way he could figure him out before Roku finds out for himself who he is, right?

Right?

It got so quiet so suddenly, Roku felt his ears react in response. Of course, he’s itching to know what his mentor had to say as much as the rest of his friends at the table.

After a few seconds that felt like minutes, Monk Jin elaborated.

“It’s so obvious. You’re all my students and not even one of you understands. Roku, like any of us, merely must need to exist. Do that, and you’re no different than any other person who has existed before you and who will exist long after you’re gone. Therefore, I know all I need to know—about Roku, about you lot, and about all other life on this world we call home.”

Roku immediately cringed at the sudden loud mantra of “ugh’s” and “oh, boy’s” that swept over the room. Still, he couldn’t shake those words from his mentor. Why were the others taking that so lightly when it… it’s so profound? It sounds like one of the truest things Roku has ever heard from the man since he’d arrived.

Because it is true isn’t it?

On some level—that deep, origin point that gets ignored by everyone all the time—Roku is more attached to this world’s population that he is separated, more similar than different. You’re born, laugh, try, you live, love, cry, you age, you smile, and then in every single end, you die.

Even if Roku won’t be completely gone—only accessible through his next incarnation’s avatar state—he will, in one manner or another, die.

He’ll die, and then he’ll be no different than anyone.

As macabre as this train of thought is, it is, in fact, true.

He glanced over to Sozin, seeing him in a different light than when he’d left for his training. Or maybe… it’s not different, but familiar. Similar. Like he hadn’t turned sixteen yet and they were both sneaking off to feed the turtle ducks.

Even surrounded by the adoring, attentive nomads for these past couple of years, right now, right here is the first time since he began training that Roku doesn’t feel alone. Rather, he feels solid, temporal, and attached.

So then how—why does he feel guilty about that?

Once dinner concluded, the dining hall became almost ghostly with how quiet it is.

Gyatso got hung up on a conversation with Sozin at the last minute. Roku waved a hand and told them he’d been wanting to get some fresh air out on the attached balcony anyways and that he’d catch up with them tomorrow.

Of course, the reality is Roku’s once again on the verge of tears and has no idea why and hates himself for it—that hot, disgusting, vengeful kind of hate that’s still a very, very new feeling for him.

Closing off the balcony from the dining hall with tarp curtains, Roku walked over to one of the three stone benches and took a seat.

Gods, it’s like he’s been holding off this gross feeling throughout dinner, and while Monk Jin’s words provided him with an ounce of clarity, his subconscious only followed it up with ten times more dread.

This dragging, aching, angry dread. And just there, beneath all that, is the guilt from before.

Roku clenched his hands into fists and lightly banged them against his forehead, face muscles scrunched with an internal agony he never thought himself capable of feeling. He’s never experienced any kind of guilt directly after feeling something nice.

Roku supposes… that’s because what made him feel that ping of clarity was Monk Jin’s words—the ones that reminded him of how he’s still very attached to this world, to its people, to all the little things and moments… to Sozin.

And that’s not how an Avatar should be.

With a sigh, Roku situated himself with his hands behind his head to lie down on the bench. He’s read plenty of tales in his lifetime; he’s heard all about heroines and main characters who go on a quest and at one point have what text refers to as an “identity crisis”. They’ll lose all sense of self in light of new information about them as people that they didn’t even know, that they needed someone else who’s not them to tell them.

He’s a fool for thinking that was just make-believe. After all, his father has always said to him that the best fiction comes from basic facts about life—one of which Monk Jin shared at the dinner table.

But, even now that he’s actually living a story similar to those he read growing up, he can’t seem to recall how those character’s stories ended, what they did to overcome terrible emotions and situations, and, most importantly, what that one thing was that allowed them to find who they truly are.

There aren’t any stars out tonight, even this far up on Earth, which only sought to further dampen Roku’s already dreadful mood.

Just as he was about to give up on finding peace of mind and surrender to a sleepless night alone, he heard the curtains behind him russle. Roku didn’t even bother trying to situate himself properly for whoever it was. Let them see, he doesn’t care anymore.

“So this is where you’ve been,” a muted, wise voice came from the balcony threshold.

Ah, Monk Jin. Of course. The man practically has a sixth sense for when someone’s feeling bad—physically or emotionally.

“Yup,” Roku sighed, not bothering to sit up. “Here I am.”

He couldn’t see the man, but he could hear him walking over to one of the other benches to sit.

Neither said anything for what felt like centuries and, for the first time, Roku was genuinely irritated by another’s company. Sure, he’s had times where, when hanging out with friends or friends-of-friends there were less-than-savory individuals, but it never truly annoyed or irked him in any way. He merely gave a polite smile and moved on with his life.

Of course, that was before his life became something bigger, grander, more important, and didn’t belong to him anymore.

It was also before he had to leave the one person he trusts and adores more than anyone.

He doesn’t hate Monk Jin, of course. However, that didn’t stop his mind from trying to get Roku to hate him and Gyatso and everyone else on this god-forsaken rock who he suddenly owes something to and needs to be perfect for just because the “universe” says so.

“Your eyes,” Monk Jin’s voice blanketed the fresh, cool air with something heavy.

And Roku almost, almost did hate him for withholding whatever he was going to say next as well as every other bloody time he’s withheld information in the name of “self-discovery”. Lots of good that’s done.

“What about them?” Roku asked, his tone apathetic in nature, surprising himself in that regard—emotionless isn’t who he is. That much he knows, at least.

“When you came to dinner tonight, your eyes were red,” Monk Jin said.

He didn’t elaborate, most likely because he’d want to give Roku the chance to open up on his own terms like he always did.

And after Monk Jin spoke, Roku felt another new thing in his body: a pull. Only, it isn’t just in one direction, it’s in two—one begging, crying out for Roku to speak to his mentor and the other in his heart pulling down, down, down and no, no, don’t open your mouth and talk to anyone for anything, why should you because no one understands.

The war in his body caused a sudden rush of nausea to build up against his cheeks and around his neck. He sat up in a hurry to cough and choke on nothing, his face becoming flushed, his chest tight, and his torso frozen in place.

He became so distracted by his physical ailments, he didn’t notice that Monk Jin got up or that he walked to stand in front of his pupil.

Roku’s eyes went wide and his throat tensed with a fear he could not name. But before he could breathe let alone speak, Monk Jin closed his eyes and placed his thumb to Roku’s forehead in a forceful manner, which is also new to Roku. He’s always seen his mentor like a colorful feather: bright, but soft in nature, never forcing anything.

That was the last thought he had before he saw a light engulf his vision and his mind went numb. He could still feel his body but his arms dropped to the sides, no longer in control in his own mind.

It was scary at first, but as the feeling went on, the fear subsided and a wave of calm washed over him.

For a second, Roku felt as if he weren’t on Earth or even alive anymore.

He simply… is.

He is, and it feels not as bad as he was making it out to be to himself.

Slowly, Roku felt more and more inside of his body.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Monk Jin standing in front of him still, arms by his side with an indiscernible expression.

“What was that?” is all Roku could think to ask (now that he has the ability to think again).

His mentor tilted his head to the side with a shrug. “I reconnected your physical body with your soul, that’s all. It’s called an ardorconcord. You’ll learn about it as well as how to use it once you get to the Water Tribe. Its definition derives from the water bender language of old—“ardor” meaning passion or spirit and “concord” meaning harmony or agreement.

“I—I’m not really… following?”

Monk Jin motioned towards the space next to Roku on the bench.

“May I?”

Roku was hesitant to respond, still feeling a bit of that two-sided tug, but nodded, allowing his mentor to sit beside him.

“Just then, your mind and spirit were at war with each other, trapped in your physical body. I could practically see it clear as day in your aura as much as you could feel it. So, I took hold of your soul, very, very briefly, gave it a quick cleanse, and then put it back. Mind you, I don’t do this often. Another person’s soul is theirs to commune with and feel and delegate, but… you seemed on the verge of something grave in nature. I, ah… you didn’t—well, you didn’t feel safe.”

Roku could only stare and take in the information the best he could. Disregarding the technicalities of the technique Monk Jin just performed on him…

“You’re right,” Roku said, voice nearly whispering, and tears quickly followed after that.

He clutched at his torso, eyes wide, watching his tears fall onto his clothed knees like they weren’t even his.

“You’re right,” Roku repeated. “I don’t feel safe at all, Monk Jin. I… one moment I’m celebrating my birthday with Sozin and the next I’m suddenly whisked away from my home because the universe said so? Only to find out that the world wants me to be this impeccable force of spiritual perfection to solve all their problems in the blink of an eye and I… hell, I don’t even know who I am! How am I supposed to be good enough for everyone when I can’t even… I can’t even—”

Whatever else Roku wanted to say was muddled by uncontrollable sobs and whales of pain. It didn’t even register to him that Monk Jin had joined him on the floor and drew him in for a hug.

And so, he cried.

And Roku doesn’t think he’s cried this hard or this long or this heavily in his life.

And, by the gods, it felt phenomenal—that special intertwining of the sorrow of the heart and the freedom of crying it all out.

“It’s all—my fault,” Roku whimpered between sobs. “All I need to do is just… let go, and I can’t even do that. I’m not—I can’t be the Avatar the world needs. And… you know what? If I have to discard the one person who means more to me than anything else—well, then… I don’t want to be.”

Chapter Text

Monk Jin didn’t say a word as Roku sat there with him and ranted about everything that has been building up since he got here. And he didn’t even know there had been anything building up. He supposes he has the training to thank for that—keeping his mind and body occupied. Roku had no idea what would have happened if he had this emotional hurricane later, when Monk Jin wasn’t around to perform that technique.

He didn’t know how much time had passed since he’d dropped to the floor in tears nor did he particularly care. He’s thankful his mentor didn’t seem to care either, content to simply sit with his pupil, allowing him all the time he needed to come back down.

And when Roku did just that, he felt…well, numb wasn’t exactly the right word. That implied he’d rather distance himself from everyone and everything. Free wasn’t quite right either; the issues that drove him into this state were still there, but now they don’t feel as large and foreboding.

Light sounded good—somewhere between the two. Roku feels light in his mind and body.

“All better?” Monk Jin asked, drawing away from his pupil to sit on the floor in front of him.

Roku sighed, dragging his palms over his face. “Mm—not all better. But, yeah, better.”

“Good,” Monk Jin nodded, and then invited Roku to take a couple of deep breaths with him, which he did. “It sometimes takes us a lifetime to truly make things all better.”

“Lovely,” Roku sighed, clearly irritated at that notion.

Monk Jin only laughed and patted the other’s shoulder. “If anyone’s capable of achieving that, it’s you. And I don’t want to hear any argument about that, because you know I’m right, young man.”

Roku couldn’t help but crack a smile. The elder could be funny in his own way when he wants to.

But his smile fell as quickly as it came.

“I just…gods. Literal centuries of Avatar incarnations, and I can’t have some sort of manual for this?”

“Oh-ho! No, of course not my boy! Everyone is different. You may be the Avatar, but before that, you were, and still are a person—an individual with his own wants and hopes and dreams.”

And for one reason or another, Monk Jin’s words—that may have been comforting to anyone else—only panicked Roku more.

“But… the Avatar state! You said if I can’t let go of worldly attachments, I won’t be able to reach my full potential and enter the Avatar state at will!”

Monk Jin only sighed, taking both of Roku’s hands in his own.

“Roku. Please tell me you haven’t thought you’ve been the only Avatar who refuses to let go of your attachments did you? Because you’re not, and you certainly won’t be the last.”

That bit of information only sought to anger Roku further. He ripped his hands away from his mentor’s hold, face scrunched in furry.

“What? What is that supposed to mean?! You know…for someone so old and wise, you’re being very hypocritical right now.”

“That’s because you aren’t listening.”

“I’m—! That’s not fair! The world tells me one thing and you suddenly decide to let me in on some sort of Avatar revelation that, oh, guess what, I’ve been told lies since the beginning?!”

“What you’ve been told is what worked for most Avatars of the past. They had no problems with surrendering their worldly attachments to achieve total and controlled access to the Avatar State. In fact, your recent past incarnation, Kyoshi, whom you’ll one day meet, is a fine example of that.”

But her inner strength, much like her as an individual, is different from yours. She possessed an unrivaled amount of discipline and carefully cultivated self-mastery in all aspects: control, willpower, and regulation—much like the very nation of the element she’d been born into: Earth. Steady, focused, unyielding, and consistent.”

And then there’s you—a soul forged in energetic, brilliant, passionate fire. Where Kyoshi was a beacon of stability and restraint, you’re a beacon of light and love with an unbiased mind and enormous heart. You do have much to give to this world, Roku, and you’ll do it in your own, unique, passionate way—Avatar state or not.”

Cautiously, Monk Jin moved to place a hand on Roku’s shoulder.

“It would be nothing short of a shame to berate yourself for the qualities that make you, you, Roku.”

Roku merely sat there, eyes to the floor, unwilling to look at his mentor despite the praise. Shaking his head, Monk Jin brought the other hand up to Roku’s other shoulder, giving each a firm grasp in hopes of grounding him.

“If you fail to listen to everything else I say, at least hear this: an Avatar’s true power doesn't lie within their spiritual abilities, but rather, their hearts, and what they choose to do with it. And my goodness me, Roku, you have one of the most generous hearts I’ve ever witnessed in my years. Listen to it. It will never fail you.”

“But what if—” Roku suddenly spoke up, faltering in his words as if he’d be afraid of what he’d say next. He remained silent, so Monk Jin gave him space as a bribe to continue.

“Go on, my boy. There is no shame or wrong answers at the Southern Air Temple.”

Roku swallowed thickly, debating whether this would make or break his connection with his mentor despite his words. Because how could he trust just one person, even if that person had taught him and comforted him unconditionally for the past four years, when there was a whole world of people telling him differently?

Still, there is dread, and a sudden sense of now or never that burned more than any physical blow or stray flame had over his years of fire bending. And, with some luck, Roku’s rational mind was able to slip through and tell him that, if he can’t speak to Monk Jin about this, then who else?

Closing his eyes, Roku breathed deeply before mustering the courage to look his mentor in the eyes.

“You were saying?” Monk Jin said with an encouraging smile.

“What if my heart already belongs to someone?”

At that, Monk Jin’s smile only widened. “Ah. Young love? It must be one of the most natural things in the world.”

“Sure, but—”

“—aaand loving another so wholeheartedly only proves my earlier words, you know?”

“Ha,” Roku scoffed, but there was no malice behind it. “Rubbing my face in it? That’s not very monk-like of you.”

“And, supposedly, neither is loving another, or in other words, having a worldly attachment for the Avatar, and yet…” Monk Jin gestured with both arms to the land around them. “...here we are.”

Roku rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Ok, alright. You win.”

“It’s Sozin, isn’t it? You love him, don’t you,” Monk Jin stated more than he asked like he already knows the answer.

It didn’t catch Roku off guard as much as he thought that statement would, because, of course, Monk Jin could pick up on how much he adores Sozin. He had plenty of time to give the man hints during his time spent at the Southern Air Temple.

Still, he had no idea where to go from there.

“Of course, I do. But I can’t… even with what you’ve said, I can’t do that to him.”

“Do what, exactly?”

“Just—ugh! I can’t put that on him, Monk Jin! He’ll have a nation to run one day and—I just can’t, alright?”

A beat of silence passed over the two.

“You’re afraid,” the monk observed.

Roku scoffed.

“Wouldn’t anyone be in my position? One of Sozin’s many jobs as the Fire Lord will be to produce an heir, and last time I checked, I don’t exactly have the biological parts required to help him with that,” Roku blushed, not really having thought of him and Sozin together in the future in any way, much less… like that.

“So what?” Monk Jin said with a shrug.

This is getting ridiculous.

Roku marched over to his mentor with a scowl.

“With all due respect, Monk Jin, you’re not getting it.”

“Of course I am, Roku. You love him. End of story,” he placed a hand on Roku’s shoulder like before.

“Sozin refused to allow time and occupation to separate you two. He flew all by himself from his home to a land that’s alien to him, despite how much it may be uncomfortable for him. He dines with us despite how much I can see the poor boy doesn’t care for vegetables just to be in your company. Sozin has shown through his actions and his words that he is in no way prepared to compromise in order to share his life with you.”

Monk Jin steeled his expression, and Roku can’t recall him ever looking as grave as he does now. “So, then, why should you, Roku? At the end of the day, ask yourself, are you two truly so different? Or are you allowing the thoughts and voices of others to control who you think you are?”

“I—” Roku stumbled.

He wants to come up with a rebuttal, or rather, according to his mentor, those other, nasty, chaining voices are telling him to. And so, as best as he could, he pushed past them to try allowing his voice and his voice alone to speak.

“I…I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

And to that, Monk Jin laughed, taking idle amusement from his pupil’s lovestruck conundrum. He patted the shoulder where his hand rested before.

“How about the truth, hm? Isn’t honesty something you and he value in your friendship?”

Roku sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “It is. But this is—” He got cut off by a stern eyebrow-arch from his mentor, stopping him from saying what would have been the word “different”, because as Monk Jin has said, it really isn’t.

“Well, not different. It’s new. It’s something I thought I’d never have to be honest with him about or even think about, because I never thought I’d be thinking about this—about him, either.”

“Such as life. We’re merely witnesses to this world's wonders and travesties, my boy. The only aspect about it under our control is—”

“—ourselves. I know, I know,” Roku sighed.

“That means you have control over whether you tell him or you don’t. The worst that can happen is Sozin declining your feelings.”

“Or leaving me altogether.”

“And who’s voice do you think that was just now, because I do not believe for a second it’s yours,” Monk Jin grinned.

“Ugh, ok, ok. I don’t think he’ll just… drop me like that. But you can’t tell me fear of rejection isn’t valid.”

“Of course it is, Roku, as are you. Now. I think it’s well past curfew. Sleep on these thoughts, alright? Promise?”

Roku stood, shaking out both legs, as he had been sitting on hard stone for a while.

“Ok. I’ll do my best.”

“Your best is all I’ve ever required of you, Roku.” Monk Jin said and then bowed before walking to exit the balcony.

Roku’s eyes were once again on the floor, but before he could be consumed by his own mind once again, he called out to his mentor.

“Monk Jin?”

The elder halted his pace and spun around. “Yes?”

A beat.

Roku sighed, a light smile adorning his features.

“Thank you. Not just for this talk but for everything you’ve taught me. I know I can be stubborn in my own way, but you were—are—patient and trustworthy. So…thank you.”

Monk Jin returned his pupil’s smile, bowed once more, and then exited fully before Roku had a chance to return the bow.

Because he truly is thankful. And grateful. And, right now, those not-Roku voices wanted to tell him he would have never had the courage to acknowledge the feelings he’s harbored for his friend without Monk Jin’s help.

Ironic, then, how it was with Monk Jin’s words that Roku now knows he’s had it in him since the universe had poured his soul from the cup of fire into this world.

Chapter Text

Breathing a sigh, Sozin stared aimlessly as the moon began to rise higher and higher outside the dining hall.

As soon as dinner came to a close, Sozin felt a heavy ultimatum fall on his shoulders. Sure, he still has six more days after today to spend with his friend, but in actuality? Six days is nothing in the grand scheme of things.

It’s barely enough time for him to even muster up what he’ll want to say and how he’ll want to say it. Of course, he’d practiced on paper before he came here, but this is real-life—reality. No starting over and no refiling the sumi ink tray.

He’s here. In real-time. He’s prepared the best he could, but now it’s all on him. Whether he succeeds or fails falls on him alone.

And what a burned to bear; equal chances of feeling the best he’s ever had and the worst he’s ever had isn’t exactly comforting.

His mother underestimates him, though. Sozin has always been the last person to withdraw, put things off, or give up. He tries to keep Monk Jin’s words at the forefront of his mind, focusing on what a person two times the age of both his parents had to say—it’s bound to be wiser from an objective as well as subjective standpoint.

“Hey, Sozin! Got a sec?” a rather peppy voice yanked him from his thoughts and back into the present.

Spinning around, Sozin was met with the smiling face of…ah—Gyatso, he believes is his name, one of Roku’s friends here.

“Hello. Gyatso, right?”

“That’s me!” He pressed a thumb into his chest, undoubtedly proud of who he is. Sozin found it endearing. He wishes he could be as carefree.

“Although we haven’t had the chance to formally meet, Roku has talked a lot about you.”

Gyatso grinned mischievously, “All bad things, I hope. Anything else is boring.”

Sozin snorted a laugh. “Wow. Yeah. Now I know why you’re good friends with him. You’re both toddlers.”

“And I now know why you’re friends with him: you’re both snarky!” Gyatso wagged a finger through the air with a mock-displeased face.

He’s certainly the gestural one. No wonder he and Roku got along.

Sozin huffed a laugh, leaning against the stone wall. “Takes one to know one, Gyatso.”

“Exactly! Now we’re friends, too!” Gyatso spun forward in a ball of air only to stop short right in front of the prince, catching him off guard, which is not easy to do. Sozin’s hair has, yet again, paid the price for coming here.

“Nice to know I’m leaving Roku in good hands,” Gyatso said, using a single motion to blow any disheveled hair out of Sozin’s face.

While the prince appreciated the gesture, it…really only made it worse.

“I find that’s my line,” Sozin said, pushing his hair around to gain some semblance of neatness. “I hear he’s made quite a quaint home here with good company.”

“Aw shucks,” Gyatso shrugged. “What can I say? Air benders are the best!”

“Really? Because those moves Roku tried to use in our spar didn’t exactly help him.”

“Hey!” Gyatso playfully shoved Sozin with his shoulder. “That’s only because he got distracted by, well—you. Your arrival. The poor guy sulked for two whole days before you got here.”

Sozin stilled, his eyes going wide with concern.

Sulked?

He sulked?

He wasn’t excited?

Roku…he dreaded his friends arrival?

“I—ah…he, um, he wasn’t happy at all?” Sozin sheepishly rubbed the side of his neck.

All Gyatso offered was a shrug—like it absolutely wasn’t a big deal at all that he’d just implied Roku had been—had been put off by Sozin coming to visit.

He…he seemed so happy—in his hugs and demeanor and smiles.

Roku wouldn’t—no. No, of course he wouldn’t put up a front.

He would speak up if he felt uncomfortable…wouldn’t he?

But then…the spar. Roku weeping on his shoulder for what he claimed to be “no apparent reason” and just “something he needs to figure out”—

“I dunno. I can’t relate since I grew up here. I could only imagine. He goes away from his home and loved ones for four years because, well…he has to. Then, someone from his past shows up out of the blue? That must not have been easy to process. After all, he was under the impression he wouldn’t get to see anyone he knows from home. A bit of a slap in the face, y’know?”

No.

No, stop it.

“Oh—gods, I’m not saying he hates you or anything, gods no, no way, Sozin. Just…he’s changed a lot in the four years I’ve known him. It’s almost like he’s a different person altogether, haha.”

Stop.

“In fact, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say it’s for the best! You learn more, you grow, you change, it’s only natural—”

‘Whatever he wishes, I’ll adhere to it without question, mother.’
‘Even if he wishes for your friendship to end i n d e f i n i t e l y ?’

“Shut! UP!”

Sozin’s voice rang so loudly it spooked a squad of lemurs nearby.

Red.

It’s all he could see.

It’s all he could taste—he was biting his lip so hard he pierced it.

But that could never compare to the pain he’s feeling right now.

His chest feels tight. His throat feels as if it were to clog up and split in half and—

And how dare he?

Gyaso dares to assume to know anything about him and Roku’s bond?

“Shut up! You—I—Roku is…you have no right to comment on whether he’s changed or not!” Sozin said, his voice expansive and brisk.

Slowly, he walked up on Gyatso, who, with each step Sozin took forwards, he took another backward, a grave and concerned look on his face.

Sozin didn’t care.

“I’ve known him my entire life! We’re childhood friends! If anyone knows him, it’s me! Roku need not change for anyone! He’s perfect—more perfect than any of us could ever hope to be!

“He doens’t need anyone coming around and changing him just…just because the world needs him to be someone different! To be the world’s god damn tool of peace and prosperity. To hell with the world. They don’t know or deserve him and neither do you!”

The red lingered for—Sozin doesn’t even recall how long, but definitely long enough to feel it creeping up his neck and down his spine, filling his veins and clogging up his lungs and heart and brain.

And for a second…for just a split second…it felt phenomenal.

He’s never raised his voice this high or looked so (presumedly) menacing before in his life.

But, oh, has he wanted to.

With every passive wave from his mother or cold shoulder from his father or snickering from among generals and aristocrats and noble peers, something has been bubbling inside him and—yes, it’s finally, finally exploded over in white, hot magma and fire—

Then, the second after it felt phenomenal, it felt terrible.

Slowly, his vision cleared, only to be met with eyes full of genuine fear—no. Not fear. Fear was too broad. There was a very specific type of fear shining in Gyatso’s eyes. He’s seen it many times when his father layed punishment at the feet of those who had broken capital law.

Horrified.

Gyatso looked absolutely horrified.

As his sight returned, his other senses did as well.

He felt both his hands engulfed by an ethereal warmth, which could only mean one thing—

Sozin looked down.

Both hands held concentrated blades of fire and both were only inches away from Gyatso’s body, which is currently backed against a wall like a hunter stalking its prey.

Ruthless, uneilding, critical of every move.

Like his father—

Like a monster.

The flames vanished and Sozin almost tripped over himself with how quickly he backed away. He watched Gyatso slide down and hit the ground, shaking and teary-eyed.

The air nomads turn their backs to violence and conflict in general, so Gyatso has most likely never, ever witnessed another human being looking at him as if he were ready to tear out his heart with bare, fiery hands.

Sozin felt gravity pull him backward as well, catching himself on the ground last minute. He stared at Gyatso until their expressions matched.

How…

How could he even think to…

Sozin blinked his eyes a few times, taking note of how much they burned and how wet his cheeks were.

“I—” Sozin stuttered, clutching at his chest, feeling as if it were about to fold in on itself and evaporate.

Without another word, he whisked himself off the balcony and onto a nearby rock structure and launched onto the stair pathway, and ran faster than he ever recalls himself running.

His eyes were still semi-hazy; along with not knowing the layout of the temple, Sozin’s certain he’ll trip and fall and stumble at some point. So be it. He just…he needed to get far, far away from Gyatso—from his expression that reminded him too much of his own childhood reflection.

He landed in a soft patch of grass near the bottom of the temple. For one reason or another, it felt colder down here than it did upon the temple’s peak. He caught a small shiver but took a seat and breathed fire a few times to keep warm.

And then he felt himself drift away from his body, watching himself in his own past re-live every side-eye or slap or rejection. But…there was a level of detachment to it. He understood, logically, that these were some of the most painful moments of his life, but he was just…watching. A bystander watching his own life.

Time left him as he did his body and all he could do was drift on and on.

He didn’t feel the set of hands guiding him to stand or the fact that his body was walking with whoever was helping him. He didn’t feel himself sitting down on a stone bed or taking a sip of water.

Only when a fresh, hot towel was placed on his forehead did Sozin feel the tug of his conscious self wishing to return to his body to get warm because—oh, damn. He’s cold. Very cold. And a little damp to boot.

Opening his eyes (when did he close them?), a warm, gray gradient decorated the floor like a rug, the scheme continuing up walls that appeared to be stone—right, he’s a guest at the Southern Air temple.

He’s at the Southern Air temple and he’s visiting—

Roku.

Oh, gods, no.

Gyatso—

Tears were quick to spill over, Sozin resting his head in his hands, the hot towel falling off.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, breath hitching with each syllable.

“Gyat–so–I’m—gods, I’m so, so sorry.”

Sozin didn’t bother attempting to speak again after that. He sounded so broken and he can't stand it.

When he finally did work up the courage to look at the young monk, Gyatso’s face bore no emotion at all—a strong contrast from before knowing how expressive he is.

Sozin must’ve scared him deeply.

And he’ll never be able to take it back.

Neither of them said a word for a while, but soon enough, the guilt overtook Sozin’s mind.

“Say something,” his voice came out in a hoarse whisper. “Please.”

A few more moments passed before Gyatso responded, and Sozin deserved every bit of the cold withdrawal.

“What am I supposed to say, Sozin? You threatened to attack me. Even if you didn’t say you would, your body language sure did. I have nothing to say.”

More silence passed, Sozin absorbing and actually thanking Gyatso’s choice of words weirdly enough. It’s comforting knowing he would have reacted the same way. The monk has every right to hate him after he behaved like a feral monster.

Wordlessly, the young monk intermittently swapped out the cool water soaked in the cloth for warm water, placing it gently atop Sozin’s forehead. He couldn’t stand the silence already as it is, but reluctant help mixed with silence?

During the fifth or sixth cloth change, Sozin grabbed it from Gyatso’s hands and tossed it to the side without making eye contact. All Gyatso did in response was huff and shrug his shoulders before taking a seat next to the prince again.

“Sorry,” Gyatso said after a few seconds.

Sozin scoffed, wishing to say nothing more to Gyatso for pitying him. Of all the emotions offered to him over the years, Sozin would rather be hated than pitied. Maybe that will be the death of him someday, but he can’t bring himself to care right now.

Let Gyatso hate him.

Let his own family hate him.

“I can only imagine how much you care about Roku to react so viscerally at my stupid, one-off, concersational comments. So, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Still. Kiiinda awful to have risen your fire at me,” Gyatso said.

All the young prince could muster is a shrug.

If the monk was so damn adamant about it earlier, Sozin could play the silent treatment, too.

“Seriously!” Gyatso huffed angrily, crossing his arms. “I kind-of-sort-of know Roku, but I have no clue who you are other than the future of the Fire Nation. I couldn’t have known what words or which implications are triggering for yo—”

“Just!—Listen, listen, ok?” Sozin interjected, rubbing at his face.

“I…my reaction wasn’t even about you or what you said, so stop acting like you’re so god damned important ok?”

“Me?!” Gyatso used both hands to reffer to himself, face scrunched in a scowl.

“I’ve never—Sozin, I trained with the Avatar for four years—of course, I know I’m not nearly as important as someone like him or you for that matter. I know I’m not important to you, we literally just met. Yes, whatever the hell happened back there has nothing to do with me, I agree—but don’t try to pin the reasoning why on a petty, childish argument. Not cool.”

Sozin actually snorted a laugh at that—he couldn’t help it, it was instinctual. Even through all the genuine anger Gyatso must be feeling right now, he somehow manages to still…appeal to Sozin’s sense of humor with that ‘not cool’ tie-off.

Taking a chance, he glimpsed to the side and, sure enough, the young monk was trying to avoid his eyes, too.

A dragging weight fell on Sozin’s shoulders just then. He began to feel himself sag and his skin felt a hundred times heavier and his eyes felt void of all moisture.

Screw it.

He always hates going to bed pissed at something or someone anyway.

Because, at the end of the day, he’s the one who’s a guest in another nation, and, as reluctant as he is to admit, Gyatso’s right. This has nothing to do with the young monk and everything to do with—

“My mother,” Sozin vaguely offered.

Gyatso turned to meet his tired eyes and quirked a brow.

With a sigh, Sozin gave a brief explanation.

“My mother talked to me before I left to come here and, well…she’s not perfect, but she’s definitely not my father so I took whatever I could get. She can be loving, sure, but she’s too—ugh, it’s like every breath I take I need to run by her. She talked down about coming here and—ah, well, she said…things to me. Things I guess evoked fear in me I was too cowardly to address myself.

“I was so incredibly terrified she’ll be right—that she’ll call it on Roku having changed so much to where—to the point where…where he won’t want anything to do with me anymore. To the point where he realizes that I’m not all that and I’ll never be the leader my nation needs or even good enough for him—”

“Whoa! Hey, hey, you—it’s…”

Gyatso fumbled with his hands, unsure if he wanted to comfort the other with a pat on the shoulder or something to show he doesn’t mean the prince any harm.

“Just…Sozin, calm down. You’ll accidentally choke, ok?”

And he was right, of course, because he nearly did. Balling his fists, Sozin closed his eyes and focused on his breath.

At that point, he supposes Gyatso decided he’d try that pat-on-the-shoulder approach. At this point, Sozin was too tired to make a fuss.

“What—I mean, if you’re ok talking about it, what did she say to you in specific? I can’t imagine what it is for you to have such a reaction.”

“She,” Sozin sucked in a breath, the air around him feeling anything but fresh even so high above sea level.

“Don’t feel pressured, ok?” Gyatso added. “Just because you nearly singed me doesn't mean you owe me your life’s story.”

Wh—was this guy for real?

Sozin turned to face him head-on this time, Gyatso flinching slightly at the sudden motion, no doubt having to expect a certain kind of behavior from him now.

It broke Sozin’s heart, the fire and anger in his chest dwindling even further as his body realized how much energy that outburst actually took up.

“Of course, I owe you an explanation, Gyatso. Things may be different up here for you air benders, but back home, it’s important for those who argue and fight to understand each other better. Passion is great, but discipline needs to accompany it. Otherwise, people will get hurt.

“My mother came to see me the night before I left and made every effort she could to drag me down, to stop me in my plans. And she accomplished this by tugging at my soul. She kept drawling on and on about “what if’s”. What if Roku has changed? What if he’s no longer the person you were childhood friends with? Just—”

And, as if a match had been lit beneath his lungs, anger fueled him once more at the thought of a mother talking to her own child like that—of how she’s always spoken to him as if his wants are secondary and reckless and—

“How could she?!” Sozin sprung up from his seat and hurled himself at the stone wall opposite to him, punching it hard—hard enough for both of them to hear bones threatening to split and crackle.

“She knows how important he is to me! How important we’ve always been to each other! She’s blind—so, so incredibly blind! Doesn’t she understand how hard this is for me already?! Does she not get that I’m well aware of how horribly this could go? Because I do know!”

After taking a moment to absorb Sozin’s words, Gyatso sighed deeply, practically feeling the heat of the young prince’s emotions radiating off of him.

“Wow. You know what that sounds like to me?”

“What?” Sozin spun around from the now-dented stone and quirked a brow.

“Like you’re putting a whooole lot more pressure on yourself than you need to.”

“But I!—ugh. You wouldn’t understand,” Sozin’s gaze returned to the stone wall.

Gyatso got up on his feet and walked until he was standing behind the young prince, crossing his arms. “Of course I do, Sozin.”

The prince whipped around, irritation prominent on his features. He threw his hands in the air, “Ok then what?! What do you oh so obviously get that I don’t?”

“You’re best friends, for crying out loud! Shouldn’t best friends—childhood best friends at that—tell each other everything? Going off of that logic, whatever you need to say, it should be no different than any conversation you’ve had with him before.”

Sozin threw a finger up at him, “You—! I… you’re wrong! It’s one hundred percent different!”

“Well, then what on Earth is—”

“I love him!” Sozin shouted so loud that it startled a few baby bison nearby, even with them being in an isolated room.

Gyatso stood motionless in his shoes, watching as Sozin’s chest heaved with what no doubt was thousands of conflicting thoughts and feelings.

Sozin moved, banging his fists against his forehead and pulling at his hair, making the bun come loose and all of it falling to his face.

The dam had been broken—no use holding back his frustrations now.

“I love him. I’m destined to be Fire Lord and he’s destined to be the world’s Avatar and…and I shouldn’t care! I shouldn’t! I thought…my mother—I thought her words were powerless over me if I just kept hope at heart that maybe… just maybe, we could… we could have it. We could have what makes so many others the happiest people in the world.”

“You can, though,” Gyatso attempted, keeping his voice low. “You can. Sozin—gods. If only I could tell you everything Roku told me about you these past four years, but I can’t, because there are too many to remember. I may be born and raised a monk, but I know what “more than friends” looks like in someone else's eyes, and I saw it every time Roku so much as thought of you.”

“You’re lying,” Sozin said instinctively. “Monks shouldn’t lie.”

Gyatzo isn’t normally assertive. Over the top, maybe, but at those words he felt…emotionally attacked. Like Sozin felt he had the right to comment on him and Roku’s dynamic without even knowing him.

Having had enough of all this, Gyatzo marched right up to the Fire-Lord-to-be, grasped both his shoulders, and glared at him. He’ll get the picture across to this stubborn fire bender no matter what.

“Oi! I’m his friend, too, y’know! I may not be childhood friends with him like you, but you learn a lot about someone in four years—their mannerisms, their pet peeves, their expressions, and what each one means. Just… seriously?! Remember how he looked at you when you first arrived? Well, I do. And I can safely say that’s the happiest I’ve seen him look since I’ve known him.

“Whatever sulking he did before you came—you expect me to believe a couple days of that can compete with what I saw on his face when you did come? When he first saw you after four years apart?

“It would be unfair of you to hide this from Roku—for both his and your sake. Love is fleeting! Regret lasts a lifetime. You act like you’d rather see the world burn than for any harm to befall Roku. It’s time to put some gumption behind your words and take action.

“If that little outburst of yours is anything to go by, I can only imagine how much it’s crippling you to keep this under wraps. You care about one another. I know you’ll do anything for him just as I know Roku has a deep, deep regard for you, too. These aren’t assumptions, Sozin. They’re facts. Tell him.”

As much as Sozin wanted to dispute the monk for argument's sake…his words sound the same as all those times he’s had to reassure himself before embarking to the Southern Air temple.

Gyatso let go of his shoulders, pacing back a bit, eyes going to the floor in what could only be described as sorrow. “Please? If not for his sake, than for yours. You’re dying, man, I can see it. A puddle of dead Sozin isn’t going to be good for either of you.”

Sozin sighed, stumbling over to the stone bed, his head beginning to raise a fuss in the form of a deep ache. “What a god damn mess. Is spiritual pretentiousness inherent in all air benders?”

Gyatso scoffed, taking a seat beside him while keeping a respectable distance.

“There’s nothing spiritual about your situation, Sozin. You want to tell Roku how you feel but are blocked by voices that don’t belong to you. I can’t help you the way you need, but…if how you’re feeling influenced your outburst now, I certainly wouldn’t want anyone getting seriously hurt down the road because of it. I’ll be blunt because I sense you’re someone who appreciates cutting to the chase. Doing that would be selfish, making others pay for your pain, wouldn’t it?”

“You know something, Gyatso? I hate everything that has come out of your mouth this evening,” Sozin rubbed his face with his hands, a small, sad laugh escaping him. “Which, is how I know it’s all true, but I don’t want it to be.”

Gyatso whistled of all things at that. “A fire bender confessing they’re wrong? Unheard of,” the monk huffed a laugh as well.

“Yeah, well…you’re right. I—” Sozin trailed off, unsure if he’ll want to admit this to anyone other than Roku, who had witnessed it at the time.

“You’re right, ok? When I was fourteen…I—I hurt someone. I hurt them so terribly they—they almost didn’t, well…they almost didn’t make it.”

At that, Gyatso’s eyes went wide. Sozin tried not to feel more criticized than he already does tonight.

“It was nothing special, just a routine training session with a few other high-society kids. I got paired with this guy who I already didn’t care for much. The handful of times I did attend school versus at-home lessons, he’d both cast me out because I was “too good” to be in school with “normal kids” and simultaneously took shots at Roku for being an “overachiever”.

“That particular sparring session, he chose to shoot his shot—to say everything he could think of to degrade me without getting in trouble during our spar. Of course, I didn’t care for the opinion of someone who would never put in the effort to get to know me. But then, he…”

Sozin paused, trying his best to formulate what he had felt that day into words.

Gyatso was ever the patient listener.

“To be honest? I can’t even remember what he said specifically, but the second he started taking shots at Roku, it didn’t take long for me to, well…you witnessed it yourself. I flew off the handle—our teacher had to pry me off of him and by the time my vision cleared, I saw my hands were bloodied and his face and torso had been badly singed. My family being, well, the leaders of our nation, was able to keep it quiet that the future Fire Lord had pumled someone “innocent” to a pulp.

“That was actually the first real, heartfelt fight Roku and I had gotten into. I kept trying to tell him I was simply defending his honor—that no one would ever talk that way about him if I could help it. After a few days, he came around, but…he made me promise to allow himself to defend his own honor if he needed to. I guess…I broke that promise tonight.”

Gyatso put a hand on his shoulder just as before. Sozin looked up, perplexed at the amused expression on the monk's face—how anyone could find that story amusing at all is strange.

“Well…thanks for stopping short of the actual attack. I kind of like my face how it is, thanks.”

That earned another knee-jerk chuckle from the young prince; to think a monk, someone so peaceful and passive, could have the same sense of humor as a fire bender.

“And, hey. You didn’t attack me. Now that you’ve told me everything…I don’t think you broke your promise. You stopped yourself. You want to talk about discipline? You’ve got it, Sozin.”

“Yeah, well, that’s a pretty low bar for discipline, don’t you think?”

“We all need to start somewhere. And, for what it’s worth, which might not be too much, I think Roku would be proud of how far you’ve come given your circumstance with your past.”

“I hope so, because I’m not,” Sozin said. “But…I do understand the point you’re trying to make, and it…it would be selfish and any pride Roku feels towards me now would certainly be snuffed out if I allowed this stupid dance to continue to where I hurt someone like that again—to where I hurt his other friends he’ll undoubtably make around the world and it’ll be all my fault.”

“Oi,” Gyatso stood, offering him a hand. “No hard feelings, yeah? You apologized. I get it now. I accept your apology, and I can only hope you can accept that we are not the worst things we’ve ever done.”

Sozin shook his head, his eyes beginning to get hazy from fatigue. Taking the monk's hand, he stood, albeit not as gracefully as he’d have liked.

“See? There’s that spiritual pretentiousness. I’m right about something tonight.”

Gyatso laughed, “Yeah, yeah,” And then, his expression shifted to one of caution. “So…you’ll tell him, then? You’ll tell Roku you love him?”

Honestly? Sozin still didn’t know. He does, however, understand more about himself after tonight than ever before. Will he genuinely continue disrupting and terrifying the lives of others as Gyatso suggested if this blasted confession can’t see the light of day? Is he seriously so…so god damned afraid of the repercussions? Of even the slightest possibility that his mother is correct?

He doesn't know. He feels he doesn’t know much of anything right now. However, he’s certain about one thing. As much as he’d like to be extra cautious of the circumstance under which he confesses, he is, first off, running out of time and, secondly…he never wants to be feared by another like how Gyatso feared for his safety in front of him ever again.

Sozin couldn’t bring himself to face his childhood friend if that’s the person—the monster—he’s chosen to act like, subconsciously or not.

Giving the monk's hand a shake, he let go, using the same hand to push his hair back. If anything, he’ll sleep like a rock after this.

“Well…that’s why I’m here. I’m scared straight on some level, still. But…I don’t—I can’t keep doing this; I don’t want to keep doing this if it means I’ll…if it means I’ll be so careless with my rage.”

If it means I’ll ever act like my father.

Gyatso smiled. “I think that’s a great mental compromise, Sozin.”

“Yeah, well, no thanks to me. You’re the one who helped me realize it—begrudgingly, of course.”

“Of course.”

The young monk assisted Sozin back up the temple’s stairs to his room. As annoying as he expressed it to be on the outside, Sozin did feel a sense of humility that, despite more than half their talk being argumentative, Gyatso still found it within him to be hospitable—fetching warm water, some clothes, and some fruit, placing them all at the foot of Sozin’s bed.

Neither knew how to tie off the evening, which created a bit of awkwardness, but seeing how the prince had spilled his guts to him moments ago, Gyatso only thought it polite to initiate.

“I meant it, you know…how Roku was the happiest I’ve ever seen him when you arrived. And that’s out of four years. Whatever worst-case scenario your mother or anyone else has planted in your head—call it a hunch but I…don’t think Roku will reject you. I just think you’ll…talk. And talking is the best thing ever, y’know?”

“Is that why you decided to keep talking to me even after I both nearly attacked you and acted like a complete jackass for the entire conversation?”

“Precisely. Even if it’s a little annoying sometimes,” Gyatso laughed. “But hey, it paid off, right?”

Sozin fell backward, closing his eyes. “Uh-huh. Bask in that victory, because it’s the only one you’re ever getting out of me.”

“Weee’ll see,” Gyatso taunted playfully. “I’ll go ahead and give you the honor of telling Roku what happened tonight. Or don’t. Either way…your past is safe with me. G’night,” he offered, and then turned to leave.

A sudden tug of something convinced Sozin to sit back up and speak.

“Gyatso?” He prompted, the young monk spinning around to stand at the door’s threshold.

“Yeah?”

“You…you’re not unimportant. You’ve been a good friend to the Avatar during difficult training when he had to leave his home behind. I’d say that makes you pretty damn important.”

Gyatso stood there for a moment, his eyes lowering to the floor, rubbing his hands together sheepishly.

“Thanks. So are you, Sozin. And…good luck—not that you’ll need it.”

Chapter Text

From when Roku awoke to the midmorning, he felt hazy. Yes, he did have breakfast and talk with a few of his monk friends after that, but in terms of it feeling present—like it actually happened—it felt more akin to a dream.

Roku only truly began feeling awake when he took a stroll down to where the bison grazed, putting one foot in front of the other, and nestling himself against soft grass and fluffy bison fur. He took deep breaths, closed his eyes, and simply felt the breeze drift over his skin.

He feels light.

Very light.

Perhaps that’s the reason behind his mind still thinking it was asleep when he woke up. It wasn’t at all a bad hazy, but rather a break from how his mind usually treats him, which isn’t great, necessarily.

Roku supposes he should find Monk Jin at some point and thank him again for the talk they had the night before. Between his mentor literally reaching with his hand to reconnect his soul to his body and having the heaviest cry of his life, Roku felt as light as the air he’s learned to master.

Of course, there is still the issue of figuring out when, where, and how to broach his thoughts and feelings about Sozin to the young prince, but for the first time since he left the Fire Nation, Roku didn’t feel it dragging him down and drowning him as it did before. As much as his brain wanted to burden him with the same thoughts over and over again, this feeling of weightlessness prohibited it.

Roku thinks he’s coming around to understanding that thing Gyatso told him once about “being sick and tired of being sick and tired,” and how his monk friend had said what helped him is to take opposite action.

If Roku’s mind is persistent in future tripping, he needs to do what he can to exist in the present: feeling the grass beneath his fingers, the weight and warmth of the bison’s stomach against his back, the breeze in the air being slightly warmer than usual, and…the voice calling his name from a short distance?

“Roku!”

Roku lifted his head and opened his eyes to see Sozin walking over to him with a small satchel in his hand.

“Hi,” Roku greeted, shuffling a bit to the side to make room for him. “How did you sleep?”

“Eh,” Sozin shrugged. “Not good but not bad either.”

“I feel that,” Roku said, then looked down at the satchel. “What’s in there?”

“Gyatso gave me some berries. He says this kind is the ripest during this time of year,” Sozin said, loosening the satchel’s string to reveal said berries.

“Ooo, yes, blackberries,” Roku grabbed one only to toss it at Sozin, where it made contact with his cheek before falling to the ground. He laughed out loud at Sozin’s surprised face.

“Very good. Highly recommend them.”

“Really? The avatar? Wasting food? What would Monk Jin think? I brought these to share but,” Sozin smirked, hiding the bag within his robes, and shrugged. “If you’re that tempted to waste them, maybe I should—”

“If I’m wasteful, then you’re cruel! Cruel and unusual!” Roku shoved his friend's shoulder.

“Of course, I’m unusual, I’m friends with you aren’t I?”

They both got in a few light jabs, enjoying a bit of banter after not having it with each other for four years.

Roku took a couple of berries in his hand and ate them one after the other, the sweet, tangy taste helping to ground him further.

“They feel a little weird in my mouth though. I didn’t expect them to be…squishy, I guess?”

Roku snickered at that, never really realizing how different these berries are compared to the rest.

“Squishy, huh? I guess you’re right.”

Sozin split the remaining pile of berries in half, giving one to his friend.

“So,” the young prince began. “Tell me what your most favorite and least favorite things about this place have been. I know four years is a lot, but I figure that’s good a place to start as any.”

“It is,” Roku nodded, looking down at the grass, contemplating which scenarios to choose from.

“Well…I guess my favorite thing has been the people. It was a huge culture shock, but the more I adjusted, the more I realized how cold people can be in the Fire Nation’s imperial circle.”

“That,” Sozin said in between a mouthful of berries. “That right there has to be the most ironic thing ever: the Fire Nation feeling cold, and the Southern Air temple feeling warm.”

“I know, I know,” Roku shrugged. “But, alas, it is the truth. And you know what?”

Sozin quirked a brow. “What?”

“I think that’s why you always had a hard time growing up. As the prince, I mean. Because you’ve never been cold, not even to strangers.” Roku’s face suddenly grew somber at his own words. All those years feeling outcasted from within the heart of his own nation. And for what reason? Because Sozin is far too genuine to bother with a royal facade of any kind?

Roku glanced over at Sozin, who, by the looks of it, is feeling similar from his observation. Reaching out a hand, Roku placed it around his friend's back in an effort to comfort him.

“That must have been awful for you, Sozin.”

“Well, well,” Sozin said, with no real emotion behind his tone. “Four years spent with monks and you’ve already gained some spiritual pretentiousness.”

Roku huffed a laugh, rolling his eyes at the obvious cop-out. “Really, though. It’s so, incredibly different here. There aren’t any sharp, confined spaces you need to fit into lest you risk judgment. It’s just…wide and open, and so, so real and true to nature. I don’t know how I would have coped if it weren’t for the monks being my first mentors.”

Sozin nodded, leaning into his friend’s half-embrace. “That…actually does sound nice.”

“Right?” Roku gestured with his other hand up to the sky. “Limitless.”

“After that shpeel, I can’t imagine you having any notes of critique,” Sozin chuckled.

Roku shook his head. “Oooh, believe me, I have a few.”

Sozin moved to situate himself in front of his friend so they were parallel, a giddy expression washing over his features. “Well then? Dish!”

“Ha! First of all, in the summertime, it doesn’t get hot per se, but it does get warm—warm enough for the air to smell less like fresh leaves and more like damp bison fur.”

“Ew!” Sozin laughed. “That’s four summers, Roku! And don’t you dare tell me you got used to that because I could never.”

“I never said I did! It’s always been gross and always will be.”

The next hour was spent with laughter and a little over-exaggeration on Roku’s part, just because he knows Sozin loves theatrics and wants to make his tales as captivating and ridiculous as possible for him.

Roku isn’t sure how, but through the stories and drama he told, he could feel that Sozin’s attention to them never wavered, and neither did Roku’s to him.

It must be the fact that his head feels clearer and his shoulders feel lighter from the night before because, for the first time since his friend's arrival, Roku was genuinely able to bask in and appreciate Sozin’s smile. To call it radiant would be the understatement of the century.

Roku had been correct in his previous observation: that Sozin had to be the warmest and brightest soul in all of their home nation. Being near him felt like sinking into a hot spring in the most vicious, frigid month of winter.

And now that he’s spent time away from home, he couldn’t help but harbor some disdain towards their own culture for causing Sozin as much turmoil over the years as it has.

He’s grateful.

Roku is so incredibly grateful they have this time away from the world now.

And while he gives himself grace and validation for feeling as nervous and rejecting of Sozin’s letters in the beginning…he’d be lying if he admitted to being completely accepting of how he felt. He didn’t hate himself for it, but couldn’t not damn himself for it either.

Roku just can’t imagine that now. He can’t imagine feeling anything other than relief and bliss that they could get away.

As midmorning turned into afternoon, Roku felt…something welling up in his chest. This is the first time he doesn’t feel so burdened by everything his mind wants to throw at him, and, he did promise Sozin that, when he was ready, he’d let him know what was on his mind—what had made him cry seemingly out of the blue.

Because it wasn’t Sozin, and he’s sure his friend knows that, but he also knows Sozin will be at a loss without an explanation. So, in an effort to spend his mental clarity wisely, Roku decided that now is as good a time as ever, even if he isn’t certain where the conversation will go. He trusts Sozin. That much will never change.

Instead of speaking, Roku swiveled to lie down against the grass, motioning for Sozin to do the same, which he did, lying in the opposite direction so their heads were next to one another’s.

“I think…I believe I’m ready to talk to you. About what was bothering me after our spar.”

“Oh yeah?” Sozin turned his head to look at his friend. “In that case, I’m all ears.”

“It’s—this avatar stuff. All of it. I’ve been thinking about it non-stop since we said goodbye.”

“Non-stop, huh? That does sound like you,” Sozin huffed a laugh. “Always thinking, too caught up in the habit of it…so much so it’s hard for you to ever act on a decision.”

“Whereas you charge in head first without a plan at all,” Roku poked him on his shoulder.

Sozin pretend it hurt more than it did, clutching the spot and groaning. “Meany.”

“Yeah, well. Be grateful. I think that’s why we’ve balanced each other so well all these years.”

“I won’t argue there,” Sozin sighed. “I have you to thank for helping me de-escalate the times my shenanigans got, well…out of hand. You really are the perfect avatar candidate,” the young prince said jokingly, only…

Roku went silent at that remark, causing Sozin to shift his demeanor and place a comforting hand on his friend's arm.

“I’m sorry. You’re trying to be open with me and here I am making tasteless jokes,” Sozin said.

Roku shook his head, placing his own hand over his friends. “It wasn’t tasteless. Actually…even if the universe chose me, or whatever, I think I’ve neglected to think about what exactly that means. I threw myself into training without asking questions, even though Monk Jin told me he’d always be there to talk.”

“And no one would blame you for that,” Sozin reassured the best he could. “No one. I’d probably do the same. It’s like…all of a sudden—and I don’t mean to put words in your mouth, but—all of a sudden, your life is torn up. Everything real turns fake, everything mundane seems distant, and all you know is that you know nothing. Who would blame you for throwing yourself into training if you felt everything you knew prior doesn't matter? If you felt you’ll never ever grasp it all, so all you can do is learn?”

Roku watched his friend with intensity as he spoke. It’s like Sozin is pulling all of the hard thoughts and feelings from his very soul and putting them into concrete words more palpable than anything Roku would have been able to come up with on his own.

“How—how did you know?” Roku asked because time does, in fact, find ways of leaching into their lives. Roku knows this because he should have known Sozin could relate. Of course, he could. He always had without fail. That’s one of his qualities Roku will never cease to love.

Sozin offered a weak smirk.

“I may not be the avatar, and…I'd never claim to know what it is you’re going through specifically, but…I’ll become Fire Lord one day. In a weird, backward way, all the truths you’re finding out now are ones that were taught to me since I was old enough to speak coherently.

“Everything real—messing about on the playgrounds, playing hooky, peer gossip—was rendered fake in the world of royals. Mundane life could never be something I was allowed. I thought I knew what my life was going to be like, but I knew nothing. Nothing.”

As he spoke, his tone traveled to a much heavier place, and Roku hated hearing his friend’s voice riddled with such existentialism.

Rising from his place on the grass, Roku felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness course through him from Sozin’s words. Sozin got up as well, turning to face his friend in curiosity. Roku took no time at all to adjust himself so he could fully, wordlessly embrace him. After a few seconds, Sozin hugged back tightly.

“Hey, I’m alright, really. Ugh, look at me. Prattling on about myself when this conversation is supposed to be about you. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Roku said, to which Sozin chuckled.

“We can’t both be sorry, dummy.”

“Can’t we? And can’t conversations be about both of us? I was an idiot to hold off talking to you about this. I’m even more foolish if I think you’re the last person on earth that knows what I’m going through. I should have never been hesitant to talk to you about avatar stuff.”

“Hey, it’s ok,” Sozin pressed a little closer. “You…I could sense how terrified you were on the day you departed and the most my dumbass could offer was a few light-hearted jokes. So stupid. Coming here—I wanted you to know…”

Roku felt Sozin’s chest expand and lower in a deep sigh. His aura felt more weighted as the seconds ticked on. Roku could only imagine what was running through his head.

“I couldn’t erase that look on your face from my mind all this time—how scared you felt. I don’t think I’d ever actually seen fear in your eyes before then. And I did nothing to try and stop it, even if I couldn’t have hoped to. You were practically shaking, Roku.”

Yes, Roku remembers. It started in his ribcage and spread like weeds to his limbs and fingers and voice. It’s not that Sozin hadn’t noticed, but rather, he did notice and didn’t know what to do. If only Roku had known.

“I came here because I wanted you to know that I’ll fight the world itself if it tries to force you into a position you don’t want or make you do things you don’t want to do just because you’re the avatar. I know, I know I promised I’d let you defend your own honor after what happened that day in training, but…this is different to me.

“I won’t let you go through this alone if I can help it. You’ve always been there for me, Roku. And I can’t help but feel that, over the years, I’ve taken that for granted. So, yes, I invited myself to the Southern Air temple in a rude, brash fashion, because I couldn’t take another four years without you knowing…”

Sozin took another breath, the rippling air around them suddenly feeling still. Roku had been hanging on Sozin’s every word. Not even when they were growing up together did they have…this—this kind of conversation. One that felt nearly scandalous with how intimately meaningful each word was chosen, selected especially for him like a gift.

“I couldn’t tolerate four more years without you knowing I’ll always be there for you, too, through and through, time be damned, like we always say,” Sozin pulled back, looking to the ground and rubbing at his knee with a sheepish smile. “If, of course, you want me.”

Roku sat still, and true to Sozin’s words, time felt paused, as if the wind itself wouldn’t dare distract the two of them from their exchange.

Except…what would Roku say? What can he say after all that? Sozin’s never spoken to him the way he just did.

All Roku knows is that his friend's words made him feel warm in a way he’s never experienced. It’s not quite embarrassment, and it wouldn’t do to call it flattery either. It’s not entirely unpleasant, but it feels lacking as well. Whatever the emotion, it caused his heart rate to kick up a few notches and his neck to feel hot and cold at the same time.

Sozin glanced at his friend, picking up on what Roku is sure he was reading as shock.

“Sorry,” Sozin said. “That was a lot, huh?”

“Don’t apologize,” Roku took his friend's hand in his own in an almost knee-jerk reaction.

Sozin looked at him expectantly, but still, words refused to fall from his lips, let alone form in his head, as if language itself refused to attempt compiling a response worthy of his friends' lovely, validating, beautiful words. Words that made him feel weightless and winded and—

“I…you,” Roku attempted, trying his best to translate his thoughts. “Thank you,” was all he could muster, which never felt like it could be enough.

Sozin smiled, placing his own hand atop his friend’s.

“You do have a few things wrong, though,” Roku added.

Sozin looked confused, but his smile remained. “Oh? Care to enlighten me?”

“I never once felt like you took me for granted,” Roku began, feeling a little less pressured the more he spoke. So he kept speaking, never once letting go of Sozin as he did so.

“Yes, I was terrified when I had to leave for the Southern Air temple. But, Sozin…if I were to have put myself in your shoes, I wouldn’t have known how to react either. It’s not like friends and loved ones of the future avatar are given a manual on how to feel about the news.

“You weren’t careless about it, though. You were yourself. You only joked with me because you probably felt that’s what would make me feel better. And for a moment, it did. But I hope you know I’d sooner dual you myself than have you feeling guilty for something out of either of our control.”

Sozin didn’t say anything at first, taking time to formulate his reply. And when he did speak, it made Roku’s heart sink.

“Then…I guess you’ll have to dual me,” he said, half joking half not, his eyes glossing over with such a deep sorrow Roku felt like he could drown in it. “Because I do feel guilty.”

Sozin sighed, placing a hand on Roku’s shoulder. “I feel guilty because, even though I know, logically, I couldn’t do anything to prevent it, a part of me—a pretty big part of me, actually—can’t help but feel like I just…that I just let the one person I care about more than anyone get taken away from me.”

And at that confession, Roku didn’t need to guess how crippling that guilt felt, because he could see it—in Sozin’s eyes, on his face, and in his body language as his shoulders and stomach sank down to the earth.

Roku hated it even more because surely Sozin knows he feels the same at the very least? That they’ve always been two sides of the same coin and have each other’s backs? That nothing brings him more pain than seeing Sozin marinate in despair?

Regardless, Roku knows whether Sozin feels guilty or not is out of his control. So what, he asked himself, is in his control? Right now? Here? To help his best friend feel better?

The answer was effortless, guiding Sozin into an embrace. Roku felt Sozin’s arms tighten around his waist and hands grab at his gi as if he were to vanish, tucking his face between his neck and shoulder doing everything in his power, it seemed, to keep Roku planted firmly in the present moment. It felt as though this was all Sozin had wanted for the past four years.

And the warmth from earlier returned with a vengeance, Roku noticed. It resided in the pit of his stomach as well as across the skin of is neck. But this time, instead of teetering between not-completely unpleasant and feeling at a loss, Roku could fully sink into it. This time, the warmth felt right. This time, it felt like home. Sozin felt like home.

“It sounds like—like you feel abandoned,” Roku said, running his hand up and down the center of Sozin’s back. “I’m right here. I didn’t get taken away from you and you didn’t just let me go. Neither of those things is true.”

Roku settled both his hands around the other’s neck and shoulders. “But even so…I understand if it feels that way.”

“You know what’s kind of messed up about all this?” Sozin’s voice came out just above a whisper, his tone rippling through Roku’s ears.

And even if he wasn’t visibly crying, Roku could hear how his words wobbled with sublime uncertainty.

“What’s that?”

“My home life is no secret to you. You know it better than I do sometimes. My father rarely afforded me a glance, and my mom wasn’t much of a motivator either—the two people in the world you’d expect to feel the most charged about,” Sozin sighed, settling further into their embrace.

“I expected them to keep me at an arm's length after some time. But the day you left? You’re absolutely right. I never felt abandoned until then. It was the weakest and most desperate feeling in the world. Even when I’d train and practice my bending, it felt cold.”

“Sozin, I—”

“And I won’t have anymore “I’m sorry’s” from you, ok? I know it couldn’t be helped. I’m…I just want to be honest about how I felt that day.”

“Thank you,” Roku said. “Thank you for trusting me with that. I guess we both have a lot to talk to each other about, huh?”

“And that’s the other thing,” Sozin said, his tone brighter than moments before.

He pulled out of their hug quicker than it took Roku to register he had left his arms. Roku could still feel the warmth of Sozin’s body heat underneath his gi, in his stomach, and against his neck. And Roku didn’t need his higher thought process to tell him he didn’t want their embrace to end. His face felt hot just thinking about what that meant.

“You know what else is messed up?”

“What?” Roku asked.

“That we’re still talking about me,” Sozin crossed his arms. “You haven’t even gotten to the avatar stuff yet. And don’t think I’m letting you off the hook!”

Roku snickered, shoving him playfully on the shoulder.

“I guess it’s only fair that I share if you shared.”

“Precisely,” Sozin nodded, situating himself so his legs were crossed, leaning forward. “Start wherever you want.”

Roku smiled, humming in thought as to what he could say to break that iceberg.

A small part of Roku’s mind whispered to him, trying to convince him how effortless it would feel to talk about if he had Sozin back in his arms. It’s as if, now that he’s given that part of his mind an inch, it has no problem at all taking up more and more real estate whenever it wanted.

“Well…you were right about one thing,” Roku said, tucking a few strands of hair back behind his ear. “I…this avatar journey—I’ve come to realize I don’t want to do it alone.”

Chapter Text

Sozin felt a mix of worry and relief well up in his chest at hearing that. On one hand, he’s grateful Roku isn’t afraid to ask for help with this avatar stuff, and on the other…he knows he won’t be there every step of the way for him. He can’t be, as much as he wants to be.

“You won’t have to, then,” was Sozin’s response. “Ugh. Are you sure not even letters are allowed between us?”

He watched as Roku thought about it for a moment. “Honestly? That’s what I was told. But, I mean, the monks allowed you to visit me in person, which, last time I checked, wasn’t allowed either.”

“So, a case-to-case basis, you think?”

“Yes.”

“Well that’s just stupid,” Sozin said, pulling at the grass as a nervous habit. “You better serve whoever wants to give you a hard time an earful for me, got it?”

“Hmm,” Roku tapped his fingers together. “I think I’ll give them a warning first. It’s the polite thing to do.”

“Psh,” Sozin scoffed, batting a hand at him. “Way too merciful, if you ask me.”

“Ha! Ok, then. If I press about having letters sent between us, will you promise not to sail halfway across the world just to scold anyone?”

“Weeell,” Sozin crossed his arms, “I suppose that seems fair. But I expect you to write. A lot. Got it?”

“How will my poor hands ever cope?”

Sozin gawked at him. “Wh—yours are the most capable hands in the world! You can both bend and write letters, y’know.”

Roku laughed at his friend's remark, and then Sozin watched his face grow somber, no doubt at the prospect of everything on his mind. The young prince scooted closer and placed a hand on Roku’s shoulder.

“Take it from wherever you want, ok? I just…” Sozin choked on his words at the memory of Roku’s tear-stained face. “I don’t want to see you cry like that again—to see you in so much pain that your body can’t contain it all.”

Roku was silent for a moment before responding. “That was my own fault. I didn’t give my body a chance to process the change. Not even after four whole years,” he laughed, but it didn’t sound happy. “How stupid is that?”

“Not at all,” Sozin said, determined to make Roku feel safe and valid, even if only a little. “Whether you see it this way or not, you were taken from your home, Roku. Yes, you made friends and allies while away, but…from the way you cried, it wasn’t enough. And that’s ok. It’s ok to feel that way. I know Monk Jin would agree.”

“Yeah,” Roku said, the fog in his eyes seeming to lift a little at Sozin’s words. “He would agree.”

“See?” Sozin turned so he was sitting across from him, intent on and ready to soak up whatever ails Roku.

“Ok,” Roku breathed a sigh.

He began with his first month, telling Sozin how it didn’t feel real yet. No. That only happened when his first year came to an end, which Sozin was surprised by. He can’t imagine what it must have felt like to live as if in a dream or nightmare or alternate reality for three hundred and sixty-five days straight.

Sozin asked what ended up making it feel real—if it was time passing or if something specific occurred. Roku told him that one morning after he was done meditating, he had opened his eyes, breathed in, and the air in his lungs felt tangible. He felt aware of the fact that he was breathing for the first time in a year.

“That actually sounds…creepy,” Sozin said, to which Roku snickered.

“Oh, it was, believe me. But I think I’d finally reconnected with my mind. And now…I guess my body did the same when I cried after our spar.”

“That makes sense. Bending practically forces you to be aware of your body.”

Roku nodded, taking a pause from their talk, sitting in stillness, eyes lowering to the ground.

A pang of worry fired off in Sozin’s chest, wondering if his friend had pushed himself too far too fast in talking about all this.

“Hey. We can pick this up tomorrow if you want,” Sozin offered. “I know we haven’t seen each other for a long while, but that doesn’t mean we need to talk to each other every time we’re together.”

“No, no, it’s not that,” Roku shook his head, “I still—I’ve arrived at the part that’s the most difficult for me to put into words, is all. The thought of speaking it aloud…is kind of frightening, actually. My throat feels tight and my neck feels hot.”

“I know what you mean,” Sozin said, scootching the remaining distance it took to sit directly beside him. “Would this help? If I’m right here the whole time?”

“Yes,” Roku said near instantaneously, which brought Sozin a renewed sense of gratification that his presence alone could make his friend feel less afraid.

“You got it,” Sozin looped an arm around Roku’s shoulders as he had done before.

“It’s scary because it’s about you,” Roku began, his body already starting to tense up as more words flowed past his lips.

Sozin’s hold never wavered, ensuring he was as close as he could be. “About me?”

“Yes. Or—rather, about us. When I arrived here, the monks told me that in order to become a fully realized avatar, I must let go of all worldly attachments: places, things, and…people…”

Roku paused, and it didn’t take Sozin long to realize what Roku was implying.

“So, in other words…me.”

“Yeah,” Roku said, bringing a hand up to rest atop the one Sozin looped around him. “It felt so unfair. I was so torn up and crestfallen about it, which I think is what made me cry. After all that time, you came to visit me, and it—I didn’t even feel like I was allowed to enjoy the happiness it brought me.

“But then, just last night, Monk Jin found me and told me that detaching ones self as so many avatars before me had done didn’t have to be my destiny; I couldn’t expect what had worked for my other past lives to work for me, because we’re all still individuals.”

Sozin nodded as he listened, not wanting his friend to feel backed into a corner like some wounded animal by anyone, and, it sounds like he did feel that way at the beginning. He’s more thankful than ever that Roku had Monk Jin as a mentor on his journey.

“I’m so happy you got the chance to talk with him about all this,” Sozin said, hand gripping Roku’s shoulder. “But I’m frustrated and sad you felt like you had to be some…some figurehead all this time. If I’d have known—”

“No,” Roku turned forward to face him and placed his hands on the young prince’s shoulders, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. “There’s no way you could have known. Don’t come down on yourself about this, ok? It’ll only make both of us feel worse.”

“Sorry,” Sozin said, taking his friend’s hands and holding them in his own. “I’m sorry. Are you…feeling any better now?”

“Well…I don’t expect all of these bad thoughts to go away overnight,” Roku sighed, “But, having you know what I’ve been struggling with, and catching up with you—well…it feels like we’re back on the same page.”

“Yeah?” Sozin’s face perked up from hearing that. “That’s good. I hope you can nag your water-bending master about those letters so we can remain on the same page after another four years.”

“Ha,” Roku huffed a laugh, taking Sozin’s hands and placing them flat against his chest, which made Sozin’s face spike a degree or two. “Another four years would be a lot, huh?”

Sozin snickered, slapping his hands away. “Everything is a lot!”

“It is!” Roku flopped back on the ground with exaggerated bravado, feeling the grass beneath his hands. “Waaay too much!”

“Ha!” Sozin followed his friend's lead, laying beside him. “You said it! Hey. I have an idea.”

“Oh yeah?” Roku turned on his side to face him.

“Yeah. I’ve been meaning to ask what the avatar does for fun around here! There’s no way you’d get me to believe you’ve been meditating the whole time.”

“Ew, no, of course not!” Roku laughed. “I could never be a monk.”

“So? Any ideas?” Sozin asked.

He watched Roku’s eyes squint in thought, a grin shaping his features. “I can think of one way air nomads pass time that involves both risk and thrill.”

Sozin perked up at that, stood, and offered a hand to his friend. “Now that sounds more like it. Where to?”

Chapter Text

“On second thought…mayyybe a fire bender doesn’t belong in the air,” Sozin said, a bit louder than he usually would have given that the two of them were standing on one of the tallest cliffsides at the air temple.

The prince could feel the air whipping around his hair, repeatedly giving him little playful smacks to the face. The hike up here was no cakewalk either, so by the time the two reached the top, Sozin’s lack of even breathing didn’t help his nerves.

Roku placed a hand on his shoulder. “It will be ok,” he said louder than usual, the wind masking his vocal waves. “I’ve been doing this since I arrived here! I got the unprofessional landings and learning curves out of the way!”

“I don’t doubt you’re smart, but—” Sozin glanced another look over the edge. “I also don’t doubt the consistency of gravity either!”

“Sozin, look at me,” Roku placed his glider on the rock wall beside him, firmly gripping both Sozin’s shoulders. “I felt the same way on my first jump. I felt there was no way a firebender could fly, much less me. But in time, I learned to let the wind guide me. I learned to trust it to carry me across the sky.”

Sozin’s eyes were still sporadic despite Roku’s grip on his shoulders. The avatar could only think of one other way to steady his friend's nerves and attention. He moved his palms from the top of Roku’s clavicles to his cheeks, using both hands to block out Sozin’s vision partially.

That got his attention.

Sozin wasn’t looking anywhere else.

“I learned to trust the wind to carry me,” he repeated, stroking his right cheek with a thumb. “Do you trust me, Sozin?”

Roku watched as the prince’s body became still and calm, his face morphing to confusion as to why Roku would ask such a ridiculous question.

“Of course I do. I always will.”

“Great,” Roku snickered. “That’s all you need.”

Taking his glider, he approached the edge. Sozin had to stuff the urge to reach out for his hand, thinking he’d fall to his death. With a swift motion, Sozin watched Roku spin his glider once and twice, then tap its bottom to the ground, causing its mechanism to release and its wings to snap open. He then gave Sozin a wink, the cheeky bastard.

“Pretty cool, right? Ok. When I jump, I want you to count to five and then jump off after me. I’ll glide back up, catch you, and then soar above the temple.” Roku approached him again, patting him on the back to comfort him. “Think you can manage that, Your Highness?”

“Only one way to find out,” Sozin said, emitting a nervous laugh.

“That’s the spirit!”

One step, then three, then two more. Roku’s heels were effectively off of the cliff.

“See you in five!”

And with that, he leaned back and disappeared over the edge. Sozin ran after him out of habit, still forgetting that, no, Roku would not, in fact, plummet to his death. He knows what he’s doing; Sozin had to keep telling himself, more so for his safety than Roku’s.

“Ok,” Sozin said, taking a breath. “One, two—” a step forwards, then another, “—three, four, five!”

With his teeth grit, Sozin went against everything his body told him not to do and jumped, spreading his arms and legs out like how Roku must position himself on his glider.

Sozin fell for what simultaneously felt like forever and half a second. A small dot of orange quickly filled his view in a matter of moments, and just as Roku had instructed him, he grabbed the Front of the glider’s edge, squinting his eyes against the wind slashing across his face. The world around him became a blur. He could hear next to nothing and see next to nothing. The only thing Sozin had to ground himself was his firm grip on Roku’s glider. Together, they soared up, up, and higher and higher.

Finally, Roku reached a plateau in the air and straightened his glider, having selected a wind current to keep them afloat without having to do much movement. No longer feeling the wind assault his eyelids, Sozin felt brave enough to open his eyes and—

Oh.

Wow.

A sense of overwhelming wonder instantly replaced Sozin's fear of falling to his demise.

Sunlight kissed the clouds, surrounding the air temple like a warm hug. Up here, he could see pillars of rock and stone sweeping the horizon for miles and miles instead of mountains, trees, or the ocean. The air temple stood out, of course. Still, here and there, Sozin could make out smaller gatherings of vegetation among stone, little ecosystems of bison and other animals thriving happily within the thin air.

What he smelled was fresh and renewing, air richer and cleaner than he’d ever experienced, a far cry from life next to a volcanic cluster.

Sozin could only recall one other time he’d felt such a deep sense of wonder and beauty overcome him. He was around six or seven years old and accompanied his parents to his first international meeting between rulers for imports and exports. When the train in Ba Sing Se had passed the first wall, Sozin marveled at the miles and miles of land, towns, and cities, all contained within a magnificent artificial structure.

This, however, topped that experience in every conceivable way. This time, instead of the Earth Kingdom, it was Earth itself. And he would have never had this opportunity if it weren't for Roku’s encouragement.

“Doing ok up there?!” Roku’s voice barely grazed his ears against the deafening wind.

“Better than ok!” Sozin laughed. “This is the most incredible thing ever!”

Sozin couldn’t see how Roku smirked slyly, shifting his balance. They began a steady descent, gradually steeper, until the two were on a straight path down to the air temple.

Once his mind and body knew he’d be ok flying through the air, Sozin couldn’t contain his excitement, letting out a “woohoo” as they descended faster and faster, the landing pad of the air temple drawing closer and closer. Then, at the last minute, Roku pulled up and catapulted them into a group of bison flying just above the temple peak.

The gentle giants didn’t startle at all; they were more than used to humans next to them in the air. The two drifted as one among the bison, following the fluffy creature's trail and descending much more gently to the temple grounds.

“So that you know,” Roku called out. “I may not be the best at landings if I give someone a ride!”

“What?!” Sozin called out in reply, his ears unable to fully register the latter of Roku’s words.

“I said we may be in for a rough landing!”

“What about landing?!” Sozin asked him to clarify, but with the landing pad seconds away from reaching them, the prince was about to find out himself what Roku said with a more hands-on approach.

“Here we go!” Roku shouted, releasing his feet from their position on the glider to hang down.

It only occurred to Sozin a second before the tumble that they were, in fact, not going to land smoothly.

Sozin shut his eyes and turned his head away from the impending landing. Roku was the first to take the brunt of their fall, trying to slow their impact with his heels against the stone ground. Sadly, this was to no avail. The motion only caused him to tip over, the two somersaulting to a nearby patch of grass.

While the grass did break a bit of the fall, their heads were still spinning with more adrenaline and confusion than they knew what to do with.

“Are you…are you okay?” Roku asked, reaching for the top of his head to clutch it in mild pain, eyes adjusting slowly to the position on his back.

“Yeah, I think so. You?” Sozin asked, feeling his knees and palms on the grass, reaching up to rub the back of his neck.

“Just a headache,” Roku laughed. “Or, as I like to say, a typical day of air-bending training.”

“Gods, how many times did you fall like this?”

“At least a dozen, maybe more.”

“Man,” Sozin shook his head a little to clear his vision, “And you just kept on trying it repeatedly, huh?” he laughed, looking down at Roku, who was…who was currently laying…oh.

Both of their laughter died as they realized where they were situated.

The way the somersault ended landed them in a position where Roku was lying flat on the grass with Sozin planted firmly above him, caging his friend's head between his hands and his torso between his legs.

Neither spoke on the grass; they were both entirely still, eyes trained on the other, wondering, thinking.

Something most definitely passed between them, but it wasn’t communicated through words.

Roku’s hair was sprawled out in a messy veil behind his head, whipped by the wind and covering a bit of his face. Some grass got uprooted, too, stippling his shoulders and forehead in a vibrant green. Sozin’s bun was somehow still intact, a bit of dirt covering the arms and chest of his robes. Some got on his face as well. On instinct, Roku reached up to swipe it away with a thumb, first on one side, then the other, ending at his chin.

“You got a little something here,” he said, hand lingering against the fuzz on Sozin’s cheek, a timid smile shaping his lips.

Sozin didn’t say anything at first, content to gaze down at his friend for what felt like forever. Then, a bolt of pride struck him—pride at how amazing Roku is. Yes, the prince was told his friend was the avatar years ago, but it didn’t fully hit him until now just how incredible of a spirit and drive Roku possessed.

And before he could think of anything else—anything less corny or stupid to say—Sozin said just how he felt.

“You’re amazing,” he raised a hand to take the one Roku had barely pressed to his face. “I’m so, so incredibly proud of you, y’know?”

Roku glanced to the side, his smile widening, cheeks flushing a gentle pink. “Awe, please. I’m the avatar. Bending other elements comes naturally, that’s all.”

Shaking his head, Sozin moved down closer. “No. Really. You are amazing, Roku. And you better take credit for it, understand?”

Roku huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes. “Alright. Only for you, though.”

It was silent momentarily before they realized where they were and, more importantly, where they were positioned.

Sozin was the first to clear his throat, pushing himself off of Roku and extending a hand for his friend to take, which he did. After they had both sat up in the grass, they still didn't know where to go conversation-wise. Sozin could still feel the ghost of Roku’s hand on his face while Roku’s nerves still remembered how gently Sozin leaned down to praise his efforts as the avatar. Both felt more jittery than usual at the thought of what had just transpired.

“So…crash landing?” Sozin attempted to lighten the otherwise heavy mood.

“Huh?”

“Was that what you were trying to convey hundreds of feet above ground? That we were going to crashland?”

“Well, no,” Roku shrugged. “To be accurate, I said that I’m not the best at landing when giving someone a ride.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?” Sozin chuckled, arching a brow.

“No! I can land! I can land perfectly! Just…not as well with a plus one on my glider.”

“Right, right,” Sozin faked nonchalance. “Which is why you neglected to tell me that before we took off.”

“I—” Roku held up a finger, attempting to think of something to save his side of the argument.

Sozin waited patiently with a smug look, crossing both arms over his chest.

“You know what?” Roku threw his hands up. “I just realized I don’t need to justify air bending to a fire bender.”

“Especially when said firebender’s safety hinges on it, right? Yeah?”

Roku playfully shoved Sozin on the arm, making him fall back into the grass.

“You’re fine,” Roku stood and then brushed himself off. “Walk it off.”

“Gods,” Sozin pushed himself up and stood as well, exaggerating how much his body was aching from their tumble. “I think you dislocated it.”

“I’ll dislocate your personality if you keep moaning about it,” Roku said absently as he walked off the grass, waving his hand to dismiss Sozin’s feigned pain.

“Ouch! Touchy subject,” he huffed a laugh, following his friend back down the stairs they climbed.

On the way back to the main temple entrance, Sozin asked him about gliding technicalities. This led to Roku mentioning games you can play with air bending, which opened up a brand new train of conversation, mainly that of Sozin insisting the ball they used would not disintegrate if he tried to play along with them using fire bending. Roku said he’d love to see Sozin try to witness the monk’s reactions when he’d be proved wrong.

The day quickly came to a close, with Roku showing Sozin around more hidden areas of the temple. After they had a generous helping of vegetables (which Sozin had one hundred percent gotten used to by now), Roku led his friend down a long hallway with an ornate-looking door at the end.

“This is one of the last things I wanted to show you before you leave in a couple of days,” Roku said.

“Woah,” Sozin whistles in appreciation of the grand craftsmanship, tracing his fingers over the engraved wood.

“I’m…not supposed to let you in,” Roku said, his voice meek and timid despite his anticipatory expression.

Sozin knew precisely what that demeanor meant. The case of the missing fruit tarts in the royal kitchen, how the Firelord’s dueling swords went missing for an afternoon, and how all of the blank scrolls and paint used for proper calligraphy vanished one morning from under guard’s noses were preceded by that very same look.

Wordlessly, Sozin moved back to give Roku room to open the door. What he wasn’t expecting, however, was his friend taking a large breath followed by a bending stance, releasing it through his palms. The air flowed with a steady force into two gaping entrances to a series of smaller pipes. One after the other, the swirling circles representing the element of air jiggled before spinning around, the air flowing out in musical notes.

The doors clicked and cranked open slowly, revealing what appeared, at first, to be a dark, empty room.

“After you,” Roku said.

“But…it looks empty?”

“But it's not. Trust me,” he said, extending an arm for the prince to take.

Sozin wouldn’t lie to himself. The room felt ominous…like something or someone else was already in there.

Steadying himself with a breath, he took Roku’s hand, and the two walked in.

It took a moment, but soon enough, Sozin made out some kind of…pillars. Wait, no, that wasn’t right. People? Statues! This was a room full of statues…in a circle?

“What is this place?” Sozin asked in sublime awe.

“This, Sozin, is…me,” Roku replied, sweeping his arm across the view of hundreds of his past lives.

Sozin looked at him confused, dwelling on the words for a moment. And then…

“No. Really?!” He said in shock. “All of these? All of these are your past incarnations?”

“Yes, Sozin, all of them,” Roku huffed a laugh, walking past his friend and row after row of past avatars until he reached the center. “C’mere!”

Sozin took another breath, moving cautiously between one statue after the other. Logic tried to tell him that it was just someone’s likeness recreated in stone, but his body felt like it was moving between real, living, breathing people, like these statues were watching him.

“Look,” Roku said, pointing to the statue in the center, which was the most prominent piece in the room. “This is avatar Kyoshi, the avatar before me. And this—” he swept his hand to the left, landing on the statue next to hers. “—is avatar Kuruk—the water-bending avatar before me. These statues are carved in the likeness of my past lives.”

Sozin observed Kuruk’s statue, then turned around to look at all the statues he’d just walked past, and finally looked up at the rows lining the walls that seemed to go on forever.

An emotion that Sozin wasn’t expecting to show itself reared its head in his mind: dread.

And, like always, Roku didn’t need much in terms of body language to sense that something was wrong.

“Sozin?” he reached for him, only for the prince to step back.

A beat.

Then another.

“It’s just…I know you’re the avatar. And I know what that means. But…it’s one thing to know and another to see—to see how much you’ve meant to so many people over centuries.”

“Ok,” Roku arched a brow. “Where are you going with this?”

“Maybe…the no-contact rule is in place for a reason. Maybe it’s to get you used to being the world’s great force of balance between everyone.”

Roku was at his side in a flash, gripping both his shoulders, his face mirroring that of his friends.

“What are you saying?” He faked a laugh. “Don’t back out on sending letters now because you realize how much parchment it will take—”

“The world needs you,” Sozin’s voice came out quiet and small in a way Roku didn’t think he’d heard it before.

Silence engulfed the two, the only sound being their breaths against still air.

“The world needs you,” Sozin repeated, somehow even quieter. He placed his right hand on Roku’s, which covered his left shoulder. “The world needs you, and I’ve been…I’ve been selfish. I invited myself to the air temple, interrupting your training. I’ve made you promise to send letters from the Water Tribe even if I don’t know you’d be breaking a rule by doing so. Seeing your past lives…knowing how much the world has needed you lifetime after lifetime…I’ve been selfish to how big a picture you, being the avatar, truly is, Roku.”

Sozin sighed sorrowfully, his grip on his friend’s hand tightening. Roku could only look on in an empathetic way.

Maybe my mother was right all along, Sozin thought to himself. Maybe letting him grow into what the world needs is for the better.

“I’ve been selfish, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Sozin, stop!” Roku’s voice rang through the room like a grand brass bell.

The prince’s eyes snapped up to his, glossed over, looking as if he’d committed treason or murder or some other horrendous crime that warranted looking so guilty. Roku wasn’t having any of it.

“Listen to me,” He said softly, drawing his friend into a firm, warm hug. “You’ve done nothing wrong. I am not my past lives. Monk Jin taught me as much when I first arrived and saw this room. It took me a year to come to terms with the fact I couldn’t be more different from them because I am me. Not Kyoshi, not Kuruk, but me. My past lives are meant to guide me, not shape me. It’s my life that shapes me. My experiences that shape me, and Sozin…”

Roku drew back to cradle his friend’s face in one hand while resting the other against his arm, looking at him like the sun, stars, and moon, and by the gods, Sozin wanted Roku to look at him like that for the rest of his life.

“You’ve been the greatest experience I’ve had thus far,” he said, sweeping a thumb over Sozin’s cheek.

“Don’t distance yourself from me now, especially from a misleading idea of what you think the avatar should be. I’m Roku. I’ll always be Roku. And I’ll always be your friend…okay?”

Doubt still found a way of sinking its devious teeth into Sozin’s mind, but he wrote it off as his stubbornness. Of course, he knows every word that Roku speaks to him should always be taken at face value, and that’s what makes their companionship stand out amongst all others. If everything else breeds uncertainty, Sozin knows Roku would never tell a lie, especially not to him.

Sozin took a breath and dropped his head a bit into Roku’s hand, smiling timidly. “Yeah. Okay.”

“You’re not selfish,” Roku said, taking one of Sozin’s hands to guide him out of the room. “Stubborn as anything, but never selfish.”

The prince huffed a laugh, his friend’s humor drawing his mind fully back to the present and squashing any remaining dread. “I wouldn’t have to be stubborn if people would act competently around me for once.”

“Sure, sure,” Roku rolled his eyes. “Competently? Or just like normal?”

The two snickered at their banter, making their way out of the foreboding room.

Once Roku closed the door, he glanced at the moon’s placement in the sky and gasped.

“Crap! We need to hustle! Monk Jin will do a final room check in just a few minutes! If we’re not where we’re supposed to be—”

“—we won’t hear the end of it, I know!” Sozin laughed, grabbing his friend's hand and making haste, bolting down the hallway together, adrenaline surging through them at having broken a rule. “Is Monk Jin any lighter on reprimanding than our parents?”

“You’re not funny!” Roku giggled as he ran behind him. “And no. No, he’s not.”

Chapter Text

The days Sozin spent high atop the world at the Southern Air Temple simultaneously felt like an eternity and a blip in time. The nomads sure knew how to make a stranger feel like they’d spent their whole life here among the clouds, bison, and centuries-old architecture. But that’s not why the prince felt an overwhelming sense of mourning at the thought of leaving this place. He felt this way because leaving this little slice of the spirit realm away from Earth meant going another four years without Roku. He wouldn’t be able to see or hear his voice, laugh with him, or create new memories for four whole years. Luckily, time hadn’t felt too much of the essence, as both of them were in the youngest years of their lives up until now. But Sozin knew that years would slowly feel like mere months from here.

Only, they wouldn’t be mere months. A lot can change in such a long time. Sozin recalled how, while it didn’t take long to rekindle their bond once face to face, Roku was still so different in how he carried himself.

What will happen when they grow older—when they’ll have to face the world more directly and personally than before?

What will happen if another four years go by without Sozin being able to tell Roku—

“Hellooo? Earth to Sozin?” Gyatzo’s voice across the table from him broke his trance of thoughts and worries.

It was the start of his last day here, the sun beating gently through the clouds, wind rushing by in a steady current, and Sozin was anywhere but in the present moment, spacing for what seemed like a good time from Gyatzo’s expression of mild irritation. After he and Roku ate breakfast with the rest of the nomads in the morning, his friend had to go with Monk Jin for a final test of his air-bending abilities. Roku had told him he couldn’t come because it was more of a strictly mentor-student, one-on-one thing. Still, Sozin could tell from the look in his eyes what Roku was omitting to say: that having Sozin there during his final training session would make the fact that this was the last time they’d see one another for four years all too real.

Gyatso had run into the prince on his way back to his guest room and offered him a game of Pai Sho, which Sozin had accepted without any real feelings about it.

If he were honest, Sozin wasn’t sure what he should feel towards someone he’d nearly roasted. That guilt still weighed on his mind today, among everything else.

“Gods, you’ll never get out of your head, will you?” Gyatso smirked at him knowingly, placing his next tile on the board.

Sozin sighed, placing a tile of his own without really looking at the board. “Guess not.”

“That’s a shame,” Gyatso placed another tile. “Especially when I’m about to kick your ass with this move, and you won’t even notice.”

“What—” Sozin snapped his eyes to the board, and sure enough, Gyatso placed a final tile that sealed his victory in the game. “Ugh, damn it,” Sozin rubbed his face with his hands, leaning back in his stone seat, his voice carrying nothing except weighted exhaustion.

“Seriously. What’s up with you?” Gyatso leaned back as well, less interested in another game and more interested in what’s got the prince acting so little like his usual self. “In the short time I’ve come to know you, I know that an idle, tired, nearly depressed disposition isn’t what Prince Sozin is all about.”

Said prince rolled his eyes in the emphasized way Gyatso spoke his title followed by his name.

“So I’m not allowed to be tired?”

“Nope. Not in this way you’re not—all sad and small.”

“You should know!” Sozin held up his hands in metaphorical surrender. “Seeing how you got to know Roku and his life story. You should know.”

“Monks are taught never to assume anything about anyone’s story,” Gyatso said in a false, matter-of-fact way that dripped with sarcasm.

‘Oi, okay. Okay. Whatever,” Sozin snipped back at the young monk, only realizing a moment after that his tone came off a little crueler than he intended it to be. It wasn’t Gyatso’s fault this was happening to Roku and himself.

“Sorry,” he sighed, straightening his posture to look the other in the eye. “It’s…a lot.”

“I have time.”

“But that’s just it! I don’t. I don’t have time, Gyatso. This time tomorrow, Roku and I will be on opposite sides of the world from one another, and there’s nothing I can do about it! And then, before we know it, four years will have passed, and a hell of a lot can happen in that time, and we may be too busy to even—”

“Whoa, whoa,” Gyatso instinctively got up and made his way around the table to pat Sozin on the shoulder, hoping to soothe him. “Slow down. You have a lot of thoughts, but…try focusing on what you’re feeling instead and speak to that. It should help.”

Sozin steadied his breath, gripping the table's edge to help ground himself. “It’s not that easy.”

“I understand,” Gyatso grabbed his chair and pulled it next to where the prince was sitting so they could talk more directly. “Try anyway?”

“Well, I’m…” Sozin tapped his foot, giving the stress in his body an outlet as he spoke. “I’m scared, I think. Terrified, actually.”

“Why? Of what?”

“Of them being right.”

“Who?”

“My parents. Before I left for here, my parents gave me every reason not to—my mother in particular. She was worried that upon seeing Roku again, our dynamic would have shifted far away from how it used to be growing up.”

A moment of silence washed over the two before Gyatso prompted further. “Shift? How?”

“Like…like we wouldn’t even recognize one another—that we won’t recognize one another the more time goes on before we’ll meet again in another four years.”

“Hmm,” Gyatso’s eyes focused on nothing in particular, thinking about how to phrase his following line of questioning. “Did it?”

“Did what?”

“Did your dynamic shift?”

“I—” Sozin’s words died on his tongue as his pride faced the reality that…well, no, not really.

“Do you still recognize him?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course, I do,” Sozin glanced at Gyatso with mild annoyance in his eyes, only to pause and realize the absurd irony in what he had just admitted to—that his own line of worried thoughts he had moments ago was, in fact, factually incorrect.

Because he did recognize Roku.

More than recognized.

In hindsight, very little had changed to even be noticeable at first glance.

But more importantly, nothing that truly mattered between them had changed at all. Their mannerisms, the way they joked around, the subtle level of mischief they could find themselves in at a moment's notice—none of it had changed, not even in how they laughed and smiled at one another.

So then, why?

Why was he still afraid despite logic dictating that there needn’t be a reason for fear?

Gyatso sighed, leaning back in his chair to give the other some space.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be too pushy. Sometimes, playing opposite is the only way to get someone to challenge themselves, y’know?”

“No, no…it’s ok,” Sozin looked up at the other, finding himself bashful at how brash he could be when conversing with someone who wasn’t Roku—who wasn’t used to his sharper edges. “The thing is, I have no way of knowing if our dynamic won’t shift in the years to come.”

“You’re right,” Gyatso said with a shrug.

“Yeah. And it’s killing me. The thought of that happening. The thought of—”

“Losing him?”

Every muscle in his face scrunched with disgust and sorrow at the proper, deepest fear spoken aloud. He began to feel his eyes warming with salt water, but the fact that he wasn’t alone in expressing this fear was enough to prevent him from sobbing too harshly.

“What do I do?” Sozin wrapped his arms around himself, feeling truly helpless for the first time in his life. All of his worries that the world would sweep his best friend away from him forever reared their ugly heads, pointing and cackling at him mercilessly.

All Gyatso could do was sit with him through this extreme emotional discomfort. He pulled a cloth out from his gi’s sash to offer Sozin, who took it in shaking hands to wipe his face. Far be it from the air nomad to have the answer to what Sozin should do.

But maybe…maybe he knew what he could do. What was in his power—his control to do.

“Don’t lose him, then,” Gyatso reasoned. “If that’s your fear, do everything possible to prevent it. Tell Roku everything you need to. Tell him now before you leave tomorrow. Tell him your worries about growing apart and how much you’ll miss him.”

“I want to,” Sozin huffed a laugh void of joy. “More than you know. But what if what I tell him leads to me losing him anyway? What if he hears…what if he listens to what I have to say and…doesn’t feel the same?”

“Oh, c’mon,” Gyatso nudged his shoulder with an elbow. “This is Roku we’re talking about! If anything, he won’t be mad about…whatever you need to tell him. He won’t storm off or give you the silent treatment as if you’re back in grade school.”

Sozin rubbed at his face again, groaning stubbornly. “He might.”

“What do you need to tell him so badly you think he’ll react in a way so against his character anyw—”

Sozin dropped his hands to his lap and shot his eyes at Gyatso, giving him a look. A look that he hoped would convey what he would surely die of embarrassment should he speak it aloud to someone he’d only just met.

It took an irritating amount longer than Sozin would have liked, but soon enough, Gyatso got the gist of it; feeling so helpless to lose his friend he’s known all his life—been close to all his life—and feeling as if he’d been given a death sentence at the prospect of four more years without seeing Roku—

Oh.

Oooh.

“Yeah,” was all Sozin said in reply to Gyatso’s look of realization.

They didn’t speak, allowing the prince’s silent confession to settle in the crisp air.

Then, Gyatso startled Sozin by standing up, taking his chair, and repositioning it back to where it was when the two were playing Pai Sho. He spun it around and sat in it backward, resting his arms on the top of the chair’s edge.

“I still don’t think Roku would walk away from you without a word.”

“How do you know that for certain?”

“Uh, hello? You spend a few years with someone, and you get a pretty good idea of who they are,” Gyatso pointed at him in a nearly accusatory manner, as if condemning the prince for even thinking that low of Roku’s emotional intelligence. “You should be the one to know for certain that no matter how this conversation turns out, Roku won’t just…abandon you!”

Sozin let his head fall forward with a groan. “Since when am I such a coward?”

“I mean…you said it, not me.”

Sozin’s head remained hanging between his shoulders, but his eyes snapped up to witness the goofy, smug grin on the monk’s face.

“You’re impossibly headstrong for an air nomad.”

“And you’re stupidly diffident for the crowned prince of the Fire Nation.”

The two looked at each other.

A beat.

Then another.

And then, they erupted in light-hearted laughter, the sheer ridiculousness of everything proving to be beyond humorous. Once their laughter died down, Sozin felt…relieved. The worry for the future was still present, understandably, but the immediate fear at the prospect of losing Roku all from just…a conversation seemed pointless to him now. More than pointless. Completely and utterly unthinkable.

“Thank you,” was all Sozin thought to say, standing from his chair to stretch briefly. “Really. I…don’t have anyone to talk to like this back home.”

That seemed to worry Gyatso, a crestfallen expression shaping his face. “That’s…awful. I’m so sorry.”

“Eh,” Sozin shrugged. “When you go your whole life without it, you don’t even have a reference for what you lack, y’know?”

“Still,” Gyatso stood as well, walking over to place a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“I should apologize for almost frying you like a valley dove!”

“Well, good thing I know the perfect way you can make it up to me!” Gyatso balled his hands into fists and placed them on his hips humorously. “You will have a long, meaningful, mushy, sappy heart-to-heart with Roku before you leave!”

“Ewww,” Sozin laughed, playfully shoving the other's shoulder as he walked past the air nomad. “Speak of it like that, and I’ll never get around to it.”

“I don’t even want to know how long you’ve had a crush on your best friend,” the nomad joked. “The thought sounds exhausting. Not to mention the cheesiest thing on the planet.”

“This is my fault,” Sozin sighed, walking with Gyatso to the dining hall for lunch. He furrowed his brows at the other, crossing his arms over his chest in mock irritation. “This is what I get for opening up to someone I just met. Harsh, heartless criticism.”

“Did you want a gold medal? Maybe one that says ‘I love torturing myself’ carved on it?”

“Okay, okay! Message received!” Sozin threw his hands up. “I’ll talk to him tonight.”

“Finally. See? As you said, being a stupidly headstrong air nomad works to my advantage sometimes.”

“Yeah. Sometimes.”

After lunch, the two met up with Roku and went to a grazing area to say hello to the Bison and Sozin’s animal companion, Shu, enjoying the afternoon breeze and gentle sun rays. There, they played a few rounds of kickball and listened to a few stories Gyatso told them about air-bending ancestry. Sozin returned the favor, telling stories about the Fire Natioon’s origins that Roku had heard already but didn’t seem to mind the repetition, content to sit among the Bison and simply listen to his friend speak.

“By the way, I forgot to mention that the other nomads were wondering when we’ll get to see another fire-bending demonstration before you leave. That first duel was really something, haha.”

That request for information seemed to dampen both the avatar’s and the prince’s mood considerably. Gyatso’s gaze retreated to the grass in response.

“Sorry. I know you only have just another day and a half here with one another—”

“It’s ok,” Roku cut in, waving a hand to dismiss his friend’s worries. He then turned his eyes to Sozin sitting next to him. “I’m game if you are. We made a kind of promise in advance. It wouldn’t be too honorable if we bailed at the last minute.”

“You’re right about that,” the prince nodded. “One last duel it is. Though, I expect you to have your head on straight this time,” he pretended to wack the back of Roku’s head in a playful manner.

“Yeah, yeah, you got lucky the first time, what with me being rusty after four years of bending a whole different element,” Roku held his hands out wide to exaggerate the gravity of having put the time and effort into learning how to bend air.

“Sounds like you’re asking for special treatment in the match,” Gyatso chimed in. “That isn’t very ‘the bridge between our world and the spirit world’ of you, Roku.”

“Wooow, okay! Okay, I see now! Now that we’re acquainted let’s team up on him! That’s cold, especially for you, Gyatso,” Roku mockingly smacked the nomad on the arm, to which he retaliated by tossing a clump of grass close to his face.

The banter continued well into the afternoon, and the three eventually joined the other nomads. One suggested they show Sozin what a real sport looks like with a game of air ball—the game Sozin previously insisted to Roku that the wooden ball would be just fine if he were to play on a team using fire bending.

A few games later, and the sun began kissing the horizon.

With each shifting shade of the sky, Sozin felt his chest tighten further and further, night approaching closer and closer. He couldn’t tell if it was anticipation, dread, fear, nerves, or all of the above that made his gut churn with a twinkle of nausea at the thought of doing what he truly wanted to come here to do—to talk to Roku about…well, everything. Everything he’s been omitting for courtesy at his friend’s avatar journey.

While his words at the dinner table gave the illusion he was fully present, Sozin’s mind was anywhere but. Gyatso was correct about him never being able to leave his own headspace, spending time conjuring up scenario after scenario, failsafe after failsafe, plan B after plan B for their upcoming talk after supper.

Once the table was cleared and most of the nomads had wandered off elsewhere, Gyatso approached the two, patting them both on the shoulder.

“Well, it’s my turn to tuck the Bison in for the night. I’ll see you two—” he turned his head to give the prince an inconspicuous wink. “—tomorrow for the duel. Sleep well,” he said, and then turned to walk out of the hall, leaving the two alone save for three or four nomads in the space discussing whatever they fancied.

“We’d better turn in too—”

“Roku?” Sozin said, his voice a bit louder than usual, startling the other.

“Yes? What is it?” his friend asked, eyes solely focused on the prince and whatever he’d say next.

“Would you, um…could we, ah…” Sozin cursed at himself internally, wanting to ram his head into a stone wall at how frustratingly hard it was just to ask him to talk, let alone have the talk itself.

However, as always, his friend knew just how to calm him down. Wordlessly, Roku placed both hands on the other’s shoulders, standing directly before him. Sozin looked at him, seeing only empathy and grace reflected in those maple eyes. Steeling his feet on the ground, Sozin tried once more.

“Could we talk? Just us? In, uh…in a more private setting?”

Roku looked confused before his expression morphed into one of worry.

Quickly, Sozin waved his hands and shook his head at what he knew Roku must be imagining. “It’s nothing bad! Not by a long shot.” He dropped one hand, the other coming to rest where his friend’s was on his shoulder. “But there has been something weighing on me.”

Roku’s demeanor shifted rapidly, instantly changing from concerned to supportive at his friend’s words. “Of course, anything you need. Follow me.”

Roku guided Sozin with one hand as they exited the dining hall and approached what looked like a set of stairs hidden behind bushes and brustle as if the path hadn’t been used in a long, long time.

“Where are we going?” Sozin asked.

“Like you asked. Somewhere away from everything else.”

Chapter Text

Roku wasn’t sure how he could keep a pace as steady as his current one, with how many thoughts were racing through his head. Sozin had assured him that what he wanted to talk about wasn’t anything terrible or off-putting, but if not something troubling, then…what? He knew what worry looked like on his friend's face, which was certainly present when the other asked him to speak alone.

Whatever lay ahead for the evening, Roku figured they both needed an environment that promoted as much relaxation and serenity as possible, so he took them to the destination he had in mind.

The Southern Air Temple, while very calming on its own, harbored an even more peaceful sanctuary that Roku had discovered on his own while exploring one day. It wasn’t long after he had arrived at the temple, and Monk Jin told him to go off and walk around for a while to get his bearings on the place. Soon enough, he’d stumbled across a hidden stairwell that looked as if it hadn’t been used in years.

Naturally curious about where it went, he followed it as it winded further and further down the temple’s mountain peak. Soon enough, it led to a small platform near the base of where the air temple’s construction ended. Pushing aside a few stems and branches of local vegetation; the path revealed something Roku thought impossible to have this incredibly high above the solid ground: a small cave with a hot spring.

The spring itself couldn’t be any larger than an average ship used to sail long distances across the ocean. Still, the fact that one existed here was nothing short of astonishing. Roku wanted to ask Monk Jin about how enough hot steam could build up this high to create a natural hot spring, but upon thinking about it again, Roku chose not to. He wanted to keep this place private if it had gone this long undisturbed.

Besides, if he ever needed a place to escape the confusing journey of learning how to bend an entirely new element, a hot spring isolated from the rest of the temple was perfect, not to mention reminiscent of home on a volcanic island.

He’d enjoyed many mornings before and evenings after training, letting loose here, sinking into the warm water, letting it wash away all of his doubts, confusion, and worry. Roku’s hoping it could provide the same level of comfort to Sozin if his friend were so worried about what he’d like to discuss.

“Gods, Roku, are you taking me all the way down the mountain?” Sozin said jokingly.

“Just to the bottom of the temple,” Roku replied, having to begin pushing a few stems and branches out of the way as the path became less and less defined.

“Y’know, you could have taken me somewhere private, maybe…I don’t know, on temple grounds.”

“Maybe,” Roku said, pushing away vegetation as it got thicker and thicker. “But…I wanted you to see this place before you go.”

As if on cue, Roku pushed away the last few branches to reveal what he came down here for.

Sozin halted in his tracks, taking in everything he saw.

“Is…is that—”

“A hot spring?” Roku huffed a laugh, patting his friend on the shoulder. “Trust me, I didn’t think it was possible either.”

“No kidding,” Sozin said, taking a few steps around the water’s perimeter.

Roku watched his friend crouch down and stick his hand in the pool, marveling at how warm and pleasant it was compared to the cool and crisp environment the air temple was situated in. He smiled at the action, always finding it cute how expressive his friend was at the simplest things in life.

“Reminds me of home,” Sozin remarked, walking around the perimeter.

“Right?” Roku said, joining his friend at the edge of the shallow end. “I knew you’d love it.”

“I do,” Sozin crossed his arms over his chest, something he did when upset or nervous. And it was anyone's guess which it was at this moment, given that Roku still didn’t know what the other wished to discuss.

“What is it?” Roku asked.

“We uh…are we going to, um…go in?”

Roku quirked a brow, thinking that was evident given the setting. “Well, yes? You seem tense about this, so I thought a hot spring would be an ideal place to talk.”

However, he could have misread Sozin's liking of the warm pool of water.

“Of course, if you don’t want to—”

“No, no,” Sozin cut him off. “It’s…you’re right.”

“Are you sure?”

“You’re always telling me I need to loosen up,” Sozin huffed a laugh, leaning down to untie the straps on his boots, sliding them off one at a time. “At this point, I’d be an idiot not to take the avatar’s advice.”

Rolling his eyes, Roku did the same, taking off his shoes and placing them on the rim of the hot spring. “I expect the same level of adherence to my suggestions in the future.”

“Yeeeah,” Sozin shrugged. “Maybe. If you’re extra nice to me.”

Their banter and laughs continued through disrobing—until Roku turned to the right to grab his pants off the floor and fold them…

And…oh.

Sozin’s face was still marred by worry, but his face was the last thing Roku’s gaze focused on. He didn’t really catch a glimpse (not that he had a reason to at the time) of Sozin’s bare form during their sparing match in front of the other monks and nomads, but here…away from everything and everyone…

Sozin himself may not have changed much since he’d last seen him, but his figure certainly had.

Whereas years ago, he’d just begun to exhibit external signs of all his hard work training, now, everything was thoroughly flushed out, skin pulled taught over various muscle groups lining his waist, chest, back, and arms. Light barely touched the inside of the cave where the hot spring dwelled, making the few rays of sun that did come through kiss the tops of his shoulders, clavicles, and waist. Watching him as he moved to disrobe the last of his outfit, save for his underclothes, Roku most definitely knew he had been staring for longer than what was appropriate between friends—for longer than coming from admiration and respect alone.

Just as Sozin turned his head to look in his direction, Roku jerked his head away, pretending to fiddle with his clothes as if he was having trouble taking them off to have an excuse for not shedding them sooner.

This, however, only made it worse hearing Sozin’s chuckle at the act.

“Need a little help?”

“No,” Roku said too quickly not to warrant suspicion, his face heating under the skin. “I got it.”

“I guess you forgot how fast steam can affect your mind going this long away from home.”

“Yeah,” Roku played it off, finally disrobing the rest of his clothes, folding them neatly, and setting him down next to his shoes. “Must be it.”

Roku shook off the embarrassment of the previous moment to show Sozin where the shallow end of the spring was, watching him wade in little by little, ensuring he didn’t slip and fall. After reaching the other end, the prince fully submerged himself with a deep, relieving sigh, as if the water had washed away years and years of stress.

“Sweet spirits, this is the stuff,” he said, sinking his head in briefly before returning to the surface, pushing his hair out of the way, free of the ornate pin he’d left with his clothes. “I don’t think I’ll ever want to leave.”

“I know what you mean. Here’s certainly less fussy than home,” Roku repeated the steps his friend had just taken. He sank in and sat next to the prince, basking in a shared moment of utter bliss, allowing the naturally heated water to work its magic.

“You certainly have a knack for finding obscure, calming places,” Sozin remarked once his friend had gotten comfortable.

“Yeah? How do you mean?”

“You seriously don’t recall? I remember looking all over the palace for you when it was time to spar, study, or make our way to school, only to find you holed up in a small nook or on a small ledge or bench away from everything else.”

“Huh,” Roku tried his best to remember what his friend was referring to but couldn’t for his life conjure an image akin to such a description. “Sorry. I got nothing.”

“Really?” Sozin quicked a brow at the other, flailing his hands above the water just slightly for emphasis. “You’re kidding. We were late countless times because of it.”

“And not because you were goofing off in the gardens, right?” Roku laughed and then splashed a bit of water Sozin’s way.

“Hey!” Sozin exclaimed. “Not fair! And no! For once, us being late wasn’t my fault.”

“So you admit us being late was, at some point or another, your fault. I win,” Roku crossed his arms with a little “harumph” in victory.

“Surrrre,” Sozin said, pausing to catch his friend off guard before pushing a powerful wave his way, the water splashing harshly against Roku’s face.

The resulting image of Roku’s long, brown hair blanketing his face entirely down to his neck made Sozin laugh.

“That’s what you get!” He mocked, reveling in the moment.

“Ugh,” Roku pushed his hair to the side. “I’d try to get you back, but I’ll save it for the sparing match before we leave tomorrow.”

The two laughed together about the ridiculousness of it all until the weight of Roku’s comment gradually snuffed the joy from the air—the realization dawning on them that when the sun rises tomorrow, another four years will go by before they see one another again.

A moment that was supposed to be calm and relaxing was suddenly pumped full of urgency.

“Roku, I—”

“Hey, Sozin—”

They spoke simultaneously, huffing a laugh at how in sync they were after all this time.

“You first,” Sozin said.

“Okay,” Roku smiled, scooching in a bit closer for his friend to hear, for he didn’t think he could discuss what he wanted to above a particular octave.

“I guess I just wanted to say that…I am…sad. Incredibly sad, if I’m being honest. I don’t want you to leave, and I don’t want to leave you only after a week of seeing one another.”

“I know,” Sozin’s face fell, placing a hand on the other’s shoulder. “Me, too. It’s nothing short of cruel.”

“But, weirdly enough, I’m also…glad. I’m happy that we’ve gotten acquainted with the present versions of ourselves. You’ve changed a bit, but it’s not a bad thing. You’re more…focused than you were—more intuitive as well.”

Sozin shrugged meekly at the compliment. “You think so?”

“I do.”

“Well…relieved is an understatment of how glad I am this whole avatar thing hasn’t changed you too much.”

“Really?”

“After seeing the statue room, especially, yeah,” Sozin said, face turning contemplative, remembering how heavy that moment felt in his chest. “To see how much bigger than me the title of avatar is, and then to see my best friend suddenly wake up one morning and get announced as the next incarnation—on our birthday no less…yeah. I was…I was terrified. I was terrified that was where our story would end.”

Roku watched the prince curl in on himself a bit, shoulders slumping towards the ground, head coming to hang past his chest. While his face wasn’t too expressive of exactly how much this had been weighing on him, his tonal inflections got the point across just as well.

This had been eating Sozin alive in a big way, and Roku couldn’t help but feel like an absolute moron for not picking up on it sooner than right now.

“I’m sorry,” Roku said, trying his best to not layer on too many words and simply allowing his friend’s grivences room to breathe. “I had no idea how much this was effecting you.”

“And you know what the most insane part is?” Sozin turned more to face him, the water of the hot spring sloshing gently as he did so. “I allowed people to convince me that you moving on from our shared past would be eminent—that once you went off to begin training, you’d completely outgrow the need for it.”

Roku picked up on what his friend omitted saying: “the need for me.”

The avatar certainly wasn’t about to let his friend think for a moment he’d ever outgrow the need for their dynamic or their shared past and memories. Roku quickly placed a hand on Sozin’s shoulder, to which the other glanced up at him, wondering what he’d do next, to which Roku answered by drawing him in for a much-needed embrace—one that didn’t have to be hurried or that they’d need to break away from before either wanted to.

Without a word, Roku pressed his form against the other’s, content to wade in the water with him. The prince did the same, wrapping his arms around his friend’s waist without a sound. There they sat for what seemed like decades, unwanting and unwilling to pull away, fearful that if they did, it would cement the inevitable fact that they’d need to part ways come the morning.

“I can’t help but wonder,” Roku said as he pulled away slowly, leaving little space between them, wishing to be as close as he could while being able to speak face to face.

“What is it?” Sozin asked, face flushed from the spring water, expression seemingly a bit dazed as well as if their shared embrace combined with the warmth of the water was close to lulling him to sleep.

Roku hadn’t seen his friend this relaxed in years. He adored seeing him this way.

“Who spoke to you of such an awful thing? Of me just…galavanting off and forgetting you?”

“Ah,” Sozin said, eyes darting to where their feet touched the bottom of the hot spring. “Well, ah…that would be my instructors, classmates…my parents.”

Roku couldn’t help but shake his head in disbelief, a small spike of rage shooting through him.

“What?”

“They thought since you needed to focus on your journey as the avatar—”

“They thought that…that what?!” Roku stood abruptly and began to pace around the pool, shaking Sozin from his hazy state in the water.

“They thought I’d just…that I’d leave you?! All alone?! Forever?! That I’d fly off into the sunset on a bison never to see you again? You? My first and dearest friend?! Not to mention when I couldn’t be there myself to debunk such horrible claims?!”

“Roku, please!” Sozin stood and followed him, catching him by both of his shoulders, steadying his friend as best as he could. “Please. It’s ok—”

But Roku wasn’t having it.

He wasn’t.

He absolutely was not having any of it!

Because there was no way the parents of his friend would put such horrendous thoughts in their own sons head. There was no way they’d make him feel even more alone—add salt to Sozin’s wounds shortly after he’d left for the Southern Air temple.

No wonder Sozin had been so tense and off-kilter when he’d first arrived here! No wonder Roku had sensed such a disconnect between the two of them! It wasn’t their fault, no! There had been a third party involved, planting small, vile seeds of deception that Roku couldn’t even have been there to squash the moment they were suggested!

Roku isn’t upset. He isn’t mad. Hell, he isn’t even enraged.

Roku is downright furious at this news!

A feeling Roku had yet to encounter or even know could take hold of him in such a way that it broke out of his mindscape and consumed him. The water around them began to bubble with quickly rising heat, and the ground beneath the water rumbled. The ends of Roku’s hair picked up in an invisible gust of wind, and his eyes became consumed by the glow of all his past lives.

And all of it was on display for Sozin to witness: furrowing of brows, tensing of various muscle groups, gritting of teeth, and huffs and puffs of breath…

…his eyes.

Sozin could see all of it.

And Roku could see Sozin—could see his reaction to the display of rage and power: the worry on his face, hands beginning to reach out for comfort, sorrow, and grief in his amber eyes that shone brighter than the sun.

Roku wished he could calm himself.

He really, really could.

Roku hated how little mastery he had of concepts he had yet to grasp fully—so much so they could consume him like this without him knowing what to do about it. Typically, meditation could calm him, but not from a revelation like this, no. Not from the revelation that his friend had been hurting all this time, and there was absolutely nothing he could have done about it.

But if there was one thing their shared past showed, it was the fact that neither need come any other way than they are to one another.

With a slight bit of caution, Sozin walked over to cradle his friend in a fierce hug, anger, avatar state and all.

The tactile sense of his friend’s skin against his combine with the pressure of being held so tight served to be the perfect grounding mechanism, causing the flames of fury begin to go out one by one.

Then, it began to melt.

The sharp edges of an ocean of rage gave way to the dull and desperate cliffs of sorrow.

The water returned to it’s serein state, the ground ceased its shaking, and Roku fell into Sozin’s arms, his body sore beyond measure, as if he’d managed to pack a days worth of training into a few short seconds.

Slowly, Roku’s arms found their way around Sozin, returning his embrace, tears quick to bubble up and prick at the corners of his eyes.

And Sozin held him through all of it, despite the prince’s desire to wipe the tears away as soon as they had emerged. Just as Roku hadn’t a clue how heavy it was for Sozin to carry around the notion his friend would leave him, Sozin couldn’t fathom that telling him what he did would trigger such fury, let alone induce the avatar state.

The prince spent a few minutes running his hands through damp, rich brown hair in an effort to comfort. After a while, Sozin pulled back and cradled his friends face in his hands, brushing back each new tear as it appeared and rolled down his face.

“I’m sorry,” Roku’s voice was broken, the words falling to the ground and shattering like porcelain. “I’m so sorry I left you with that, Sozin.”

“Hey, now,” the prince attempted to soothe, pushing a few hairs back behind the other’s ears in between brushing away tears. “Neither of us could have known what would happen. It’s no one’s fault.”

“But I did leave you! I left you alone to think such horrible things without me there to say otherwise—to think you’d never see me again,” Roku said in a voice just above a whisper.

“Time isn’t important to us, remember? We would have seen each other again eventually.”

“I hate it when you do that, you know,” Roku’s tone darkened when he said that, as did his eyes, now red and agitated with tears. He raised his hands to grip his friend’s wrists. “I hate it when you discount your feelings.”

“I—” Sozin attempted to say something back, something to counter that he does no such thing, but his soul knew better. It knew that he did, in fact, discount himself a lot.

So instead, he apologized.

“I’m sorry, Roku. I know I can be stubborn—”

“Stupidly so,” Roku interrupted humorlessly.

Sozin sighed, knowing his friend was right about that in the end.
“Yeah, stupidly stubborn. But I need you to understand that not once have I ever held being the avatar against you. I felt terrified, yes, but more at the prospect of you leaving and never coming back rather than the why behind it.”

“Still,” Roku said, letting his head drop into Sozin’s hands and his gaze to the ground beneath the water. “Just because it wasn’t my fault doesn’t mean what you felt wasn’t real and valid. I’m sorry I left you all alone to deal with that...and for so long, too. It won’t happen ever again if I can help it, I promise.”

Sozin watched as fresh tears began to silently role down Roku’s face, eyes squinting with a pain so vivid it made the prince’s heart ache to witness.

He moved to press his forehead to Roku’s—a small, sweet gesture of mutual respect they’d done since they were kids.

“Shh,” Sozin hushed, closing his eyes, wiping away tear after tear.

“If crying is what you need to do right now, then cry,” he said, moving one hand away from his face to drag down his neck and onto his shoulder, pulling him closer if at all possible.

“But, I need you to know I hold nothing but respect and admiration for you. I can’t fathom how empty my life would be if I didn’t have you in it, Roku. That in of itself makes all of what I may have thought or felt over these past four years without you worth it. Because in the end…here we are.”

Something the prince said must have resonated within Roku, because he pulled back just enough for his eyes to focus on the other, his face, while puffed from crying, wearing an expression of sublime awe, as if Sozin had just recited the most beautiful poem known to man.

Hoping to reassure him further, Sozin felt a boldness bubble up within him he wasn’t aware he could muster at a time like this and doubled down.

He dragged the thumb that had swiped countless tears aside and chanced, gliding it over Roku’s bottom lip, gauging his response as he did so. Roku didn’t make a move to draw back or pull away, intent on hearing more of what his friend had to say if anything.

This…this is as good of a chance he’s going to get, Sozin reasoned.

The air around them is still and the water is quiet. The small cave that housed the hot spring is far, far away from everyone and everything else. His heart pulsed with so much sincerity it threatened to break free of his ribcage and drop into his stomach.

Oh, but no amount of nerves could stop him now—not when Roku looked at him as if he was the most important person that has ever lived or ever will.

“No matter what our future holds, you’ll always be worth it,” Sozin said, drawing in closer still. “I’d be separated from you a thousand times if it meant I could reunite with you a thousand and one, Roku.”

Chapter Text

“You…” Roku breathed, placing one hand on top of Sozin’s against his face and the other on his hip. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. Gods, Roku. If only you knew,” the prince whispered, amber eyes locking onto golden ones. “If only you knew how much I—how grateful I am for you. If only you knew how much I…missed you…missed every part of you…”

Two seconds away from feeling as if he’d melt into a puddle from the sheer intensity of his friend’s gaze alone, Roku, for one reason or another, felt…surprisingly confident of all things. He isn’t sure if bravery, curiosity, anxiety, or all three together influenced his following words, but somehow, he got them out.

“I promised you I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here. So, please…tell me?”

Sozin seemed to stall then, and Roku wasn’t sure whether it was a good or bad sign. Then he made a face, and this face Roku is all too familiar with—Sozin’s thinking, contemplating something.

His heart sped up, beating faster than after any sparring or training exercise Sozin had ever completed. If he’s sweating at all, he’s lucky he has the condensation of the hot spring’s steam to cover it up. Not that it will matter after what he’s decided he’s about to do.

Taking Roku’s hands as before, he was sure his friend could feel him shaking.

Roku looked as if he were about to speak again, so Sozin decided enough was enough and swooped forward to spare Roku and himself from further useless mumbling.

And Sozin couldn’t believe how quickly the world melted away at the feeling of Roku’s lips pressed against his; he felt as if he could faint from the feeling alone. Of course, the question of reciprocation was still on the metaphorical table, but for now, Sozin just wants to feel it. He wants to be in this moment away from everyone who knows him at the peak of the Southern Air temple with the only person he’s ever loved this deeply.

Sozin clutched Roku to him even closer—as close as he could. He’ll be damned if he allows the world to take him away without a fight.

As for Roku, he found himself a bit fearful, even now with lips pressed to Sozin’s.

He’d been wrapped up in fear to the point where he wasn’t sure how he’d mastered air—the element of freedom—with all this discourse taking place within.

Maybe it’s because he’s longed for it—longed for this sense of freedom the whole time.

But this isn’t a moment for answers, questions, or coherent thoughts, is it?

Sozin’s intentions are clear—he wants to tell Roku without words how much he loves him, and Roku needs to listen.

He brought his hands up to cradle Sozin’s face. Sozin tilted his head a bit further in response, doing his best to put all he felt into this gesture.

The young prince kind-of-sort-of knew what he’d do if Roku rejected him, but if he’d accepted? Did Sozin seriously convince himself there was no way Roku would feel the same—so much so he didn’t devise a plan B?

Oh, but did he need one, given how gently Roku held and kissed him back? Monk Jin’s words came to the forefront of Sozin’s mind. Yes. Perhaps merely existing with one another in this hot spring was plan B.

Roku pulled back, which panicked Sozin initially, but he didn’t move far—just enough to give them both some breathing room.

Instead of giving Roku another chance to fumble around with mere conversation, Sozin gently gripped the hair at the base of his neck and drew him back in. Only this time, now that he knew Roku wouldn’t push him away, he kissed harder, no longer afraid these feelings were for naught.

Sozin plundered and pillaged every corner of Roku’s mouth he could—inside and out. He felt Roku grip his shoulders and pull forward. This wasn’t the best position, Sozin thought. To be as close as possible, the young prince took a leap of faith and began walking backward more and more until they bumped up against the edge of the hot spring. With care, he dragged Roku down so he could sit on the natural protruding stone where they were before and then moved to situate himself atop Roku’s lap, only breaking their connection for a second in between.

Sliding his arms over Roku’s shoulders, Sozin sighed in relief. This was going better than he could have ever hoped for. Roku is warm and malleable beneath him, clutching at his back, running his hands over the subtle shapes of muscles, kissing him for all he’s worth.

Neither were particularly experienced in this type of relationship, but that made it all the less stressful in Sozin’s mind. He didn’t have to worry about impressing Roku or proving himself—they could simply be.

But by the gods, Sozin felt as if Roku had done this a thousand times before with how persistent he’d been. Perhaps natural-born passion makes up for technique.

Ah—he shouldn’t be thinking right now, though!

For all Sozin knows, this is the only time he’ll ever get to express how he feels, and he wasn’t going to let his mind ruin it for him.

It could have been seconds or minutes that passed by the time they finally separated, just enough to breathe. And…oh, that’s a face Sozin will never forget for as long as he’s alive; Roku’s lips are red from the onslaught of kisses, his eyes are glazed over, and he’s panting ever so slightly.

Perfect.

Roku’s perfect.

He has always been perfect to Sozin.

“Beautiful,” the fire prince said aloud, sweeping a few stray hairs behind Roku’s ear. “So beautiful.”

Roku huffed a laugh and smiled sweetly, softly—a smile only meant for the two of them.

“Even more so than you?” Roku said.

Sozin pressed his forehead against his friend’s—against his love’s.

“Especially more so than me.”

“Wow,” Roku sighed, leaning back in the hot water. “What a compliment.”

“I love you,” Sozin awkwardly blurted out before he could stop himself.

For as long as Sozin can remember, Roku has been more eloquent in spoken words. But these words are the most honest, and the pair have always been about honesty.

So he said them.

They sounded stupid and nowhere near as confident as Sozin would have liked, but Roku deserves to hear them because they’re the truth.

And Roku only grinned in that perfect way he does before hugging Sozin against him with a sigh.

Sozin hugged back as if Roku could be whisked away any second.

A beat.

And another.

And then—

“I love you, too,” Sozin felt more than heard Roku whisper in his ear.

Sozin moved to place a light kiss on Roku’s cheek, both corners of his mouth, then his jawline, and then his neck—so warm and soft.

He wishes to be like this forever—alone with Roku in a hot spring, shut away from the world.

The water had infused a lovely cherry blossom aroma into their skin, and Sozin thought it suited Roku perfectly. His kisses became more persistent and deliberate, trailing his lips up and down Roku’s neck methodologically.

Small, sweet, reactive sounds escaped Roku. Sozin felt him tilt his head, which gave him better access.

Now that the dam had been broken, Sozin felt a boldness bubbling up in him of the likes he’d never felt before.

This new, exciting, deep love is mutual, and it ripped through Sozin like a comet ripping across the sky, leaving a burning trail of embers in its wake. It was unbearably hot, and the steaming spring wasn't helping. Sozin felt like his lungs were shrinking by the minute, and his stomach was two seconds away from bursting—so hot and so full of energy.

Desire, Sozin concluded.

This must be what desiring someone feels like.

It’s maddening.

Sozin never wanted anyone more than he wanted Roku right now.

“Mmhp—Sozin,” Roku sighed, relaxing fully against the hot spring’s edge, face void of every emotion save for bliss.

Maddening. Absolutely maddening.

And in this maddening midscape, sozin latched his mouth onto Roku’s neck and bit down.

“Ah—!”

He felt Roku’s body jolt at the sudden pressure—his gasp tapering off into a small moan.

Oh.

Oh.

Sozin definitely needed to hear more of that sound before the night was over.

While sucking lightly at the spot he’d bitten, Sozin trailed his hands over every inch of Roku he could manage. When he’d found Roku’s hips, he squeezed them and pressed them firmly to his while sucking harder.

And that—oh gods—that warranted a hushed symphony of sounds from the amazing, beautiful human being beneath him.

He felt his desire grow, close to flying off the handle completely.

He’s such an idiot.

He could have had this sooner if he just…but no, no he had to lose what he cherished most to realize precisely how much he’d do—how far he’d go for it.

And Sozin would touch and collect the stars themselves for him if that’s what Roku wanted.

Sozin would do anything to see this incredible person, who was there for him at all of life’s ups and downs, happy.

He felt a hand come to cradle the back of his head as he moved to find another patch of skin to bite, plunder, suck, tear apart.

“Sozin, you—ah!—where…where is this going?” Roku asked as if he didn’t already know—as if he weren’t gripping Sozin’s shoulders and neck with the same force of desire.

“Anywhere—or nowhere at all, if that’s what you want,” Sozin spoke next to Roku’s ear. Because as much as he wants to see how many sounds he can get out of Roku, he understands if he’s moving too quickly for Roku.

A few seconds passed, where they simply sat and held each other.

“Well, I—I don’t think I want nowhere,” Roku said in a small, meek voice.

Sozin pulled back and was greeted with probably the most bashful expression he’d ever seen on Roku. He snickered, and Roku looked to the side.

“Don’t make fun of me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Sozin kissed Roku’s forehead. “Tell me, then. If not nowhere, then where?”

Roku remained silent, attempting to think, no doubt, of what to say, of how to articulate what he wanted. Hell, he'd probably be twiddling his thumbs if his hands weren’t resting on Sozin’s shoulders.

Sozin loves it.

He loves this new, timid, vivacious side of Roku only he gets to see.

Roku felt a slight tremor cascade down his spine at the look Sozin was giving him—like the following words he speaks will be the most important words anyone had ever spoken.

He feels light—lighter than when he glides through the air. Nothing could weigh him down here, now, with Sozin atop him, looking at him the way he is.

The Sun.

Sozin truly is the Sun itself.

And Roku wants—he wants—

“I would like to…show you, too—how much you mean to me.”

He watched Sozin scoff, broad shoulders tensing and then releasing in a lazy shrug. “You don’t have to prove anything to me, Roku.”

“No, no, I mean…I just want to be with you—feel good with you…however that looks like.”

That made Sozin grin in such a way that Roku felt himself melt a little. It looked, well…sinister is the only word Roku could think of—and thinking was proving more and more difficult with each passing second. Sozin drew in to whisper, “Well…if that’s how you feel…I can think of a few ways it could look.”

Oh, he—gods, is Sozin making it his mission to ensure Roku cannot speak? Cannot breathe?

“What did you have in mind?” Roku mustered.

Something bright flashed by in Sozin’s eyes.

“Well,” Sozin trailed his hands from Roku’s stomach to his chest to the back of his neck and then placed them on either side of Roku’s head, leaning against the edge of the hot spring, caging him in.

“I was thinking…something that involves you being unable to speak.”

Roku’s eyes went wide, and his face burned. He felt like his stomach could grow wings and fly away. Sozin’s cornered him—and the look in his eyes. Since when has Sozin been able to be so—oh, Roku doesn’t even know of a proper word.

“That sound good?”

“Well, I mean—specific—”

“Shhhh,” Sozin gave a light peck to the lips before lifting a hand to caress Roku’s shoulder. “I don’t want either of us overthinking this. Tell you what. I’ll do something, and you let me know if it’s a ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ yeah?”

At least one of them knew how to keep calm in increasingly uncharted territory. Roku sighed, pressing a kiss to the inside of Sozin’s hand that meandered its way to his cheek.

“Ok,” he said simply. “I trust you.”

Sozin smiled at him, somehow looking both sincere and coy.

For a while, Roku found that simply wading in the warm water, connected at the lips, was enough. He could never have imagined Sozin’s skin would run this hot, the young prince’s bare chest pressed against him. He imagines this heat is in part due to the water.

Sozin experimented, alternating between soft and slow and then firm and purposeful. Roku particularly loved it when he’d grip the other's hair as they kissed or wrapped his arms tightly around Roku’s waist.

And, oh, is Sozin glad for that.

He’s so overjoyed Roku loves being held tight and close as much as Sozin loves holding him.

Roku hadn’t noticed when Sozin began trailing a fury path of kisses down his neck and across his clavicle. He tested the waters there, too, kissing gently, trailing his tongue slowly, sucking, and biting, though not terribly hard.

Gods, the sounds Roku could make!

Sozin could get drunk on them.

“Sozin—I…I want…” Roku said between breaths.

Sozin lifted his head to look at him directly. Although he initially found it endearing, Sozin wished Roku wouldn’t act so flustered about the desire he could clearly see burning in his eyes.

“Yes?” Sozin cupped his face. “What is it?”

“Um…do you think you could—ah…use more teeth?”

Sozin quirked a brow. “More…? More how?”

“Like when you…y’know,” Roku glanced to the side as if making eye contact alone in this situation was proving to be too much on its own. “Like when you bite me?”

Sozin is confident he felt a part of his brain wilt and die at that request.

Roku wanted…he wanted him to…

“Are you sure?” Sozin asked, maintaining as much self-composure as he could at the significant spike of maddening desire that arose from Roku’s request.

Roku only looked at him with pleading, kind eyes—the eyes that Sozin had always yearned for and loved, whether he fully realized it or not.

“Yes,” Roku said, his tone edging on desperation, going so far as to tilt his head to bare his neck. “Please? It…it feels good when you do.”

And that just about settled it. If there was any doubt in Sozin’s mind that he died and went to the spirit world, it’s gone now. Because there’s no way. There’s absolutely no way he’s deprived himself of this side of Roku for so long. And for what? Pride? Fear? Guilt?

Sozin kissed Roku’s cheeks before sealing it at the lips, tucking his head back down.

“You’re way, way too good for me,” Sozin wrapped his arms around Roku’s waist, trailing his tongue slowly, tantalizingly from clavicle to jaw bone.

“No, you’re—ngh—perfect. I love you,” Roku said, breath quickening with each passing second, anticipating the sharp sting of the other’s teeth.

And Sozin hoped to deliver.

He let Roku get just comfortable enough with his tongue and lips on his neck before going in for the kill. Sozin picked a spot that he found particularly sensitive: a mid-way point between the right clavicle and lower neck.

Gently, he began to suck at the skin, raking his fingers along Roku’s back as he did so, and by the gods, did Roku love that. Roku loves how, even though Sozin may be brash at times, he infuses passion in everything he does: his words, his actions…his touches—

“Sozin,” Roku leaned his head back further, arching his back slightly. Small moans and other sounds of affirmation escaped his lips. “Come on, please.”

“For the bridge to the spirit world,” the young prince breathed against his neck, “you sure are impatient.”

Sozin huffed a laugh, knowing Roku would respond if he let him, so he delivered what his love had requested.

Roku’s eyes shot open at the feeling, his jaw sapping wide in a gasp as teeth buckled down onto the flesh of his neck. Sozin combined this with digging his hands into Roku’s lower back as hard as he could without hurting him.

Bliss.

It’s utter euphoria that Roku felt well up inside him, and a blazing desire quickly followed, making him arch mind, body, and soul into Sozin’s touch, clutching at him for dear life.

“Ah! Sozin, that’s—!”

Then Roku felt Sozin’s tongue quickly follow the harsh abrasion as if apologizing for the bite.

Oh, but why? Roku wanted it. And…he still wants more.

Sozin drew away, the cold air against his bruised skin making Roku shiver. Before the avatar could get a word edge-wise, Sozin practically crushed their faces together, gripping his body wherever he could.

“You’re so damned hot when you sound like that,” Sozin remarked when he pulled back for air, eyes glossed over with searing red need. “I love you so fucking much.”

And Roku, of course, would love to return the sentiment if Sozin would let him, his love diving back in to kiss him once more, and again, and again, as if a second not connected to him in some way caused physical pain.

Roku held Sozin as close as he could manage throughout the onslaught, kissing back with as much passion as he could.

They carried on just like that for a while, mouths melded together, tongued sliding across one another’s. The sheer intensity of euphoria was so great a distraction that neither noticed how much urgency had been building just beneath the water.

Sozin was the first to pull back, eyes still closed, feeling their shared arousal press up against and glide past one another. When he opened his eyes, Roku met him with a look that wordlessly communicated the answer to what he wanted to ask.

Roku grabbed hold of Sozin’s face, kissing him like he was the only source of air left in the world. Sozin responded in kind, delivering a few nips to the other’s bottom lip while trailing a hand from his chest to his stomach beneath the water’s surface, skimming fingers against the rim of Roku’s underclothes. Perhaps if this moment weren’t infused with as much raw, carnal need as it currently is, Sozin would pause to undress them properly.

But he’s certain he'd lose all of his senses if he had to wait even another minute for what he’d been wanting since he came here.

With tongues still intertwined, Sozin drew both their underclothes down past their waists to free each other into the open, warm water. Both paused their onslaught of kisses to sigh at the feeling of the hot spring fully engulfing them.

Roku could barely focus his gaze. All his efforts went toward regulating his breathing; however, even that was proving fruitless when he opened his eyes to be met with Sozin’s hungry gaze.

“Please,” Roku managed to utter just above a whisper. “Sozin, you…please.”

And the prince nearly melted at hearing his name in such a desperate tone from the one he loved. Of course, he’d fulfill the unspoken request, gripping both of them together beneath the water, beginning a small series of experimental pumps, pressing and squeezing with vigor.

Roku almost hit his head on the ground above the hot spring with how much force he canted it back at Sozin’s touch, gasping aloud with the sheer pleasure it brought.

“Gods!—Sozin!”

“It’s so unfair,” Sozin said before diving into the exposed neck, leaving a burning trail of nips and licks in his wake. “It’s so, so unfair how easy you pull me apart.”

Any response Roku had was lost, leaving the surface of his lips as the hot spring water evaporated into steam. The way Sozin moved against him was all-encompassing, leaving no ridge or valley hidden from his grip. Roku couldn’t help but begin thrusting up against and into Sozin’s hand, his torso sliding up and down slowly, pressed to his love, never wishing to leave.

The young prince did his best to meet Roku’s hips, tightening and releasing his grip as they went, steadily increasing the pace.

Pressure began to build from the ground up, and Roku needed more of it, moving both of his legs to wrap around the other’s waist, wishing to be closer—as close as he could get. He gently pressed their foreheads together, contrasting their otherwise vigorous movements below. And for all they wished, this could continue for many minutes more; neither could hold back any more than they already had.

“Gods…fuck, Roku—I can’t…I’m—”

Sozin tried his best to speak—to let his love know he couldn’t repress his climax any further, even if he wanted to.

Luckily for him, Roku was in no better shape, practically shaking in the other’s hold, waves and waves of pleasure getting larger and larger, crashing against his mind and body with each passing moment, threatening to send him mercilessly over the edge.

And, oh, did Roku want Sozin to push the both of them violently off.

“Me, too, I—Sozin…bite me! Please!”

“Ah—gods…” Sozin sighed shakily, his breath the furthest thing from steady, all too eager to fulfill his love’s request.

Roku practically screamed when Sozin delivered a particularly nasty bite to the base of his neck, along with a tight squeeze from the base up to the tip of the both of them.

And just as the pressure had built up, it flooded out of them, Sozin following right behind his love at hearing him shout his name to the gods above. The young prince carried them through the last few waves of climax that crashed against them, slowing his pumps down, gradually easing them back down to Earth.

As the fog of orgasm began to fade, their breathing slowed, becoming more regulated as the seconds ticked on.

When his mind cleared enough to remember what day it was, Sozin opened his eyes to see how brutally marred the other’s previously pristine skin looked—more minor to more prominent markings and bruises littering his love’s neck, with an incredibly profound mark on the bottom right side.

Sozin felt a pang of guilt bubble up in him at seeing that. Any harder of a bite, and he may have caused Roku to bleed. Though, by the way he howled with each nip, Sozin didn’t think his love would be particularly bothered if he did end up bleeding.

“Are you ok?” the young prince asked, raising his hand to tuck some of Roku’s hair behind his ear.

Roku only huffed a laugh, appearing more relaxed than Sozin had ever seen him.

“I’m…that was…” he tried to muster an accurate description of the incredible experience but found he did not need to. All Roku had to do was look into his love’s eyes to know that every potential feeling was mutual. “That was amazing. You’re amazing.”

Sozin huffed a laugh, dipping his head to kiss the other briefly. “I’d say the same about you—taking all of that abuse and whatnot.”

“Not abuse,” Roku pressed a kiss to his love’s cheek, “Delightful.”

“You really enjoy it? That kind of…carnage?”

Roku glanced to the side, a tad embarrassed to discover that, yes, he really, really does.

“I’m a bit surprised myself, but…yes. It feels…comforting in a way.”

Sozon gave his love some space, interested to know more. “How do you mean?”

“Well…this avatar stuff. It seems to be about mastery over oneself and one’s strength, power, and the ability to control it. Feeling your teeth sink into me like that, it’s—it feels like freedom in a way. It feels like I can just…let go.”

Of course, Sozin thought. He couldn't begin to imagine the amount of pressure Roku must have been under these past four years. Planting a kiss to the other’s lips, Sozin knowingly smiled at Roku. He fully understood, on some level, what that feels like and how desperate one can get for some kind—any kind—of release.

“I’m glad. Anytime,” Sozin said.

Roku laughed at that. “Oh? Anytime I want, huh? Such dedicated service.”

“For you?” Sozin kissed his love once more, wishing to do nothing but kiss Roku now that they had confessed to one another. “Anything.”

Chapter Text

By the time the two had dried off, dressed, and walked back to their lodgings, the sun had disappeared from view, leaving only stars speckling the sky and a supple half moon that hung just above the air temple. On the way back, Roku offered to help Sozin pack, to which he seemed surprised, assuming the knowledge of them parting come the morning would be saddening as it stands. Roku reassured him that after their…eventful evening, he was anything but sad. Sozin only snickered, shooting him a knowing glance.

As they packed up the usually barren room, the silence between them felt strange—both full and empty at the same time. Something hovered there, unsaid, the question they were each asking the other without speaking.

What are we now?

It lingered in the air, almost waiting for one of them to be brave enough to grab it.

They both reached for the same silk robe at once. Their hands brushed, and they froze. Roku recovered first, picking it up and handing it over with a crooked grin. Sozin huffed a soft laugh as he took it.

“So, I was wondering—”
“Hey, I wanted to talk about—”

They stopped, looked at each other, and laughed.

“You first,” Sozin said, folding the robe and turning to stash it away.

“Well…” Roku suddenly felt rooted to the floor. The words jammed in his throat. “What now?”

Sozin paused mid-movement. “What do you mean?”

“Sozin,” Roku said, gesturing helplessly. “Where do we go from here? After tonight?” He shifted his weight, suddenly shy. “Calling you my friend doesn’t exactly feel… accurate anymore.”

“Oh. Yeah. That.” Sozin rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish. “Funny enough, that was my question too. I, uh… have no idea.”

“Wow,” Roku muttered, dropping onto the stone bed platform with an exaggerated sigh. “Very helpful.”

“It’s true!” Sozin insisted, hands thrown up dramatically as he walked over. “I’m completely, utterly thoughtless.”

“Alright, then.” Roku pinched the bridge of his nose. “So. It’s not like we’re going to be able to… do that again anytime soon. Or even just… kiss.”

“Tragic, really,” Sozin said—then leaned down, tilted Roku’s chin up with a gentle hand, and kissed him softly. “You’re very kissable.”

Roku shoved his shoulder half-heartedly. “I’m trying to be serious.”

“I know, I know.” Sozin’s grin turned a shade impish. “You want to hear what I think?”

“Oh, of course,” Roku said dryly. “Please, enlighten me, future Fire Lord.”

Sozin placed his hands on Roku’s shoulders and turned him fully toward him.

“I think,” he said softly, “that maybe we don’t have to overthink this.”

Roku deadpanned. “Really? We confessed our love, acted on it, and you don’t think we should define anything about…us?”

Sozin’s smile faltered as he searched for the right words.

“If it helps you feel better, we can talk about it,” he said. “But honestly? You’ve always been my best friend, Roku. That doesn’t change just because I also happen to be in love with you. People dream about falling in love with their best friend. You hear about it happening in old stories all the time!”

Roku exhaled slowly, absorbing that.

“So,” Sozin continued, “if the most important part stays the same…why should we panic about the rest? You’re still my best friend. It just turns out I’m also in love with him.” He paused, testing the weight of the sentence he’d just said. “Huh. Love. There. You are my love. How does that sound?”

Roku’s face softened. “It…sounds right.” He pressed a hand to his chest, a small, giddy smile tugging at his lips. “Spirits, it makes me feel ridiculous when you say it.”

“Well then,” Sozin said, brightening instantly. He stood in a flourish and offered Roku his hand. “It’s settled. Shall we get back to packing, my love?”

That got a laugh out of the avatar.

Taking Roku’s hand, the young prince hoists him up only to pull him into another kiss—this one much firmer in nature, using one hand to caress his lower back and the other his face. Roku all but melted into the unexpected gesture, sighing into the embrace, letting his arms rest on his love’s shoulders. They remained that way for a passing moment, swaying gently from side to side. Sozin took the opportunity to thread his fingers through the other’s silky smooth hair. It’s so, so unfair how soft his love’s hair is. Even after a good scrub, Sozin’s own hair remained thick and coarse. Everything about Roku is beautiful: his hair, his smile, the way he spars…his muscle groups moving when he spars…

Roku made a small sound of surprise when he found his back softly smacking up against a stone wall, Sozin pressing his weight into the other as if desiring to merge them both into the wall itself. He felt the young prince grip the base of his hair as he did in the hot spring, sending the very, very recent memory shooting through him like a star ripping across the sky.

“Sozin,” Roku tried to speak between the onslaught of warmth, lips, and tongue. Not that Roku wished for them to stop, of course, heavens, no. Though he would like a good night's sleep before their sparring rematch tomorrow.

“You’re impossible,” Roku finally managed to say when Sozin moved from kissing his lips to his neck. Though that did little to quell his reactions.

“I’m quite fine with that,” the young prince said next to his ear, “So long as I get to taste more of you.”

“Mph—!” Roku gasped through his teeth, feeling the other’s mouth latch over where he had assaulted the flesh of his neck only minutes before, the supple bruise pulsing beneath Sozin’s lips.

He wasn’t too rough as to aggravate the abrasion further, but wasn’t gentle either.

One of the young prince’s hands moved from Roku’s face down to join his other at the small of his back, drawing him in even more, lapping at, suckin on, and kissing bruised skin.

It was overly sensitive in the best way.

Then, his love made his way to the other side, giving the mauled area some reprieve, but failing to give Roku any.

One of Sozin’s hands shifted once more, gliding lower to grip at flesh through soft fabric.

It was as if the young prince couldn’t make up his mind as to where he wanted to touch Roku or to taste him. The avatar concluded that makes sense. If he had gone this long without even realizing his feelings for his best friend, Roku couldn’t imagine how repressed Sozin must have felt being fully aware of his.

Still, they couldn’t just—just grab at each other all evening…could they?

Even if this was poor timing, and they only had the morning before going their separate ways once more, they couldn’t just…just—

“Ah!” Roku moaned before biting his bottom lip, feeling one of his love’s hands firmly grasp him from beneath his robes. “We can’t—we should…we need to rest before…before…”

He tried. By the gods, did he try.

Roku tried with all his might to stop here so they may retire with enough time to rest before the morning sparring session they’d both promised the monks. Unfortunately for him, said might was slipping away with each generous touch, nip, and kiss to his being.

“All my life,” Sozin said next to his ear, voice just above a whisper. “All my life, I’ve had eyes only for you. It would be cruel and unusual punishment to turn me away now.”

“Sozin—”

“You’re the most gorgeous being alive, you know that?”

Before Roku could attempt to dispute him further, Sozin closed the gap between them once more, kissing him with a level of urgency symbolic of their upcoming departure, knowing that the world would yet again pull his best friend away from him for four more damned unruly years.

He’s committed to ensuring every dip, peak, and valley of his love is burned in his mind before he’s unwillingly thrown into deprivation of it.

“Roku,” he breathed, separating and backing away just enough to lock eyes with the other. “If you have to go—if we have to leave one another in the morning…please just—stay with me, here, tonight?”

It’s incredibly sorrowful how the young prince looked at him right then—his rich eyes shrouded with a layer of tears as if Roku were to be pulled away from him indefinitely. It made the avatar’s chest ache in a way it never had, wanting nothing more than to wipe that face away forever by any means necessary.

“Of course, I will.” Roku pressed a kiss to the other’s forehead.

“How I’ll miss you,” Sozin returned the gesture, pressing a gentler kiss to the other’s lips. “How I’ll miss every last part of you.”

“Sozin—ah!” Roku slammed his head backwards into the stone wall he’s still pressed against, the pain of the impact paling in comparison to the pleasure from the attention Sozin had still been giving to his clothed cock all the while. The flow of desperation in the young prince’s voice felt like honey covering his senses: sweet, rich, and keeping him stuck right where Sozin desired him to be.

With rapidly blurring vision, all Roku could do now was feel—feel as Sozin slid his hands up to his waist, untying his evening robes, their silken texture ghosting over his skin as they fell to the ground. He felt as buttons became slowly undone one after the other after the other, accompanied by kisses to the bare skin revealed with each “pop”.

Cold air brushed against Roku as he stood there, powerless, held up only by his love’s weight and the wall’s support. He hadn’t realized he’d closed his eyes until they snapped open at a foreign sensation, darting below him from where it was coming from and—oh, there’s absolutely no chance…

“Sozin…you—mph!” Roku instinctively slapped a hand over his mouth to prevent himself from crying out to the heavens, the sight and feeling of Sozin’s mouth engulfing him whole proving to be too much too fast.

“Don’t be shy now,” the young prince beamed with arrogance beneath his love, having drawn himself away briefly, keeping rhythmic, steady strokes with one hand. “Let the cosmos themselves know how much you want this—want me—only me.”

This view was something else entirely different from the hot spring, Sozin thought. Now that the metaphorical ice had been broken, Sozin saw absolutely no need to deprive them both of what the other had wanted for years and years. Sleep be damned! He’d gladly endure any amount of fatigue if it meant one more minute unraveling the love of his life by his touch alone—watching his expressions change, feeling his body, and hearing his voice tremble!

Returning to said task, Sozin saw fit to grip either side of Roku’s hips hard, wanting to leave as many marks in his wake as he could manage before they parted ways.

His love let out a strained moan at the pressure, skin no longer covered by a protective barrier of fabric.

And, oh, this feeling was…it was completely ethereal.

Roku was no stranger to his own body, of course, but no amount of self-service could ever hope to hold a candle to the treatment he’s being subjected to right now. It’s hard to believe Sozin had never done this before. The impish prince seemed to know exactly how to twist his tongue and the right pressure of his jaw to use to make Roku squirm and cry out into the cold evening.

Muffled moans and squelching strokes from Sozin’s occupied mouth filled the air as moments ticked by, doing absolutely nothing to steady either’s breathing or dampen their enthusiasm.

After what seemed like forever, Sozin pulled back once more, panting heavily with hair sticking to his face; he wore an expression of need the likes of which was nearly enough to make Roku climax right then and there.

“I can—I can only do so much,” his voice—if one could even call it that at this point—coming out hoarse and sharp. “If you’re waiting for permission to—to take your pleasure from me…please…please…don’t.”

Glancing down at his love, Roku could tell that the young prince was close as well, and just from pleasuring him at that. The thought would have made Roku lose all focus if he hadn’t done so the moment Sozin laid a hand on him beneath his robes.

Fortunately, even with that, the avatar was picking up on what the other meant, and the urge to follow his love’s meaning was far too great to resist—not when he was so, so close.

When Sozin had moved to wrap his lips around him once more, Roku placed both hands on the other’s shoulders, bearing down slightly to achieve the angle he needed for this. Soon after the young prince began his previous motions, Roku, too, shifted his hips to meet him.

He tried so very hard to be careful. This is both new and intimate territory as well as one involving the head, throat, and neck: the most delicate parts of the mortal body.

“Tap me—tap my hip twice if—if you need to stop, ok?” Roku managed to say in between wave after wave of pleasure assaulting his mind and body.

Once an affirming nod was given, Roku had no desire to hold back, trusting that if his love required them to stop, he would give the signal to.

He gripped the tops of Sozin’s shoulders and began matching his thrusts with the other’s, closing his eyes, focusing on how awfully specific each motion felt that Sozin’s tongue made against his cock. It’s completely and utterly unfair how quickly the young prince could get him to surrender to him like this. But, then again, it had always been this way. Back then, it was hijinks and mischief within the palace walls, always willing to play to that devious glimmer in his friend’s eyes.

Now, a much different emotion shone through Sozin’s face when he looked at him—one that is searing hot and carnal in nature, and Roku only ever wanted to see more of it. It made Roku feel like he’s the only thing that did, is, or will matter.

They were utterly consumed by the other, moving against one another as if rehearsed, edging closer and closer—

“Mph—! Gods, oh, gods! Sozin. How are you—how—so amazing—ngh!” Roku surged forward with purpose, determined to enjoy this electrifyingly new experience his love so generously gifted to him to the fullest.

Sozin reciprocated wordlessly, loosening his grip on Roku’s hips enough so that his love may fuck his face to his heart's content, the very thought of it making the young prince twitch beneath his robes. To be desired with such gravity by someone who, not long ago, Sozin thought he’d lose by being honest about how he felt is a relief that transcends all others.

Harder, Sozin wanted to say, wanted to cry out from his soul. Thrust harder. You’re nearly there. I feel it in my throat. Use me. Please. Use me!

“I love you,” Roku breathed, his hips breaking the steady flow he’d built up, resolve crumbling completely. “I love you so much—ah!—ah!—finish me!”

The stars in the sky paled in comparison to the ones that burst within his vision, consuming him whole as Sozin continued to pull him through climax.

Roku wasn’t sure when the world came back into focus—only that the room felt warmer than before, the air heavy with the soft breath of two people who had held nothing back from one another. Sozin rested against him, forehead pressed to Roku’s hip, breath still unsteady. Roku carded gentle fingers through his hair until the prince finally blinked up at him, cheeks flushed, eyes hazy but unmistakably soft.

“Are you alright?” Roku murmured, still catching his own breath.

Sozin gave a small, lopsided smile. “Better than alright.” He pushed himself upright, leaning into Roku as though the Avatar were the only stable thing in the world. “You?”

Roku nodded, feeling heat rise to his face. “I…yes. More than yes.” He hesitated before adding, quieter, “Thank you.”

Sozin’s expression softened even further—if that was possible. “Don’t thank me,” he whispered, cupping Roku’s cheek. “Just stay.”

He leaned in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to Roku’s lips—nothing hungry this time, nothing rushed. Just affection. Gratitude. A promise they didn’t yet have words for.

When they finally pulled apart, the stone bed behind them suddenly looked painfully inviting.

“We should finish packing,” Roku said half-heartedly, glancing at the scattered belongings around the room.

“Mm,” Sozin hummed, wrapping his arms loosely around Roku’s waist and pulling him closer, “ooor we can pretend we’re responsible adults in the morning.”

Roku huffed a quiet laugh, resting his forehead against Sozin’s. “I am quite tired after everything.”

“Exactly,” Sozin said, as if he’d just proved a point, tugging them both toward the bed with an ease that suggested he’d already decided for them.

They lay down together, the thin blankets pulled over them mostly as an excuse to stay tucked against each other. Roku settled on his back, and Sozin immediately draped an arm across his chest, fitting himself into the curve of Roku’s body as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

For a long moment, neither said anything. The silence between them was nothing like the earlier one—this one was warm, enveloping them with the comfort of being understood.

“Sozin?” Roku whispered.

“Mmm?”

“I meant it,” Roku said softly, staring up at the dim ceiling. “Everything I said.”

Sozin tightened his hold just slightly and breathed against Roku’s shoulder. “I know,” he murmured. “Me too.”

Roku felt a smile tug at his lips—small, sleepy, but real. He turned just enough to press a kiss to the crown of Sozin’s head.

“Goodnight, my love,” he whispered.

He felt Sozin smile against his skin.

“Goodnight,” he breathed back, already drifting. “We’ll figure everything out tomorrow.”

And wrapped in each other’s arms, they let sleep take them—warm, safe, and no longer alone.