#zuko cant live at the south pole and sokka would be so miserable devoting himself entirely to the FN (why i dislike zutara)

[redrobin-detective]

*sees your posts on Zukka* You. Keep talking. (Listen I love this a lot)

Listen, the Sokka/Zuko friendship was always one of my favorite platonic relationships in the series but in my latest dip into atla, my brain suddenly decided to focus on Zukka.

The boys start out shy, neither really willing to admit that they may be feeling that sort of thing for another boy, for a friend, for a former enemy. But as time passes and reality that they may very well die fighting the Fire Lord closes in on them, they decide to take the risk and take the plunge. Their love is subtle, it’s found in extended sword practices that end with gentle touches to bruised skin, its seen when Sokka grabs Zuko’s hand to show him something and “forgets” to let go, its that comfortable, slightly dreamy eyed look Zuko gets when Sokka begins going into one of his crazy plans. Despite the threat of looming death over them, they feel happy and content in each others company.

But then Sozins Comet blazes, Fire Lord Ozai falls and Fire Lord Zuko rises. Suddenly they’re not two dumb runaway teen boys in the woods where no one else can see them, now they’re leaders and war heroes standing there on the world’s stage. Now the gentle relationship, one that’s just getting onto its feet, is no longer a source of comfort but of stress and anxiety. Zuko only wants what’s best for his Nation and falling in love with a Water Tribe Chief’s son is not what was needed for stability in a wartorn nation. Sokka feels strangled by Zuko’s new position (a painful reminder of Yue’s own entrapment prior to her death) not to mention his terror when he realizes just how many people want to new Fire Lord dead.

They bicker back and forth about what to do. Sokka, for once, is the emotional one. He loves Zuko and he won’t let war or peace or anything in-between keep them apart. “I’ll just move to the Fire Nation and be your Fire Lady” Sokka says flippantly but his eyes are dead serious. Zuko is torn apart because the idea of waking up every day to Sokka sleeping next to him tangled in silken red sheets is as close to heaven as he can imagine. But the Fire Nation needs to be united now more than ever, he needs a noble woman by his side and legitimate heirs to secure his position. As much as his heart wants to be with Sokka, he knows it cannot be. “Maybe if it were a hundred years ago, or a hundred years from now,” Zuko responds exhausted from carrying the weight of disappointment in his heart. “But things are delicate right now, we can’t start another war.”

They go back and forth for months, Sokka slaves over a betrothal necklace made of volcanic glass and offers it to Zuko on bended knee. With all the willpower of someone who is all too used to self-inflicted suffering, Zuko turns down the offer but keeps the necklace. He stores it in the locked drawer by his desk and pulls it out during moments when he can’t help but ask ‘what if’. Eventually it comes to a head, both men sit down and take each others hands and discuss their future.

“I know you want this now but imagine in 2, 5, 10 years,” Zuko pleads, stroking his thumb across Sokka’s tanned hands. “You’ll see the Fire Nation as it is, with all the warts that have grown in the past 100 years without the fond tolerance of someone who grew up there. You’d remember that we are the people who killed your mother, tried to kill your entire culture. One day, you’ll look at me and remember that I am one of them and suddenly find yourself trapped in a country you hate but promised to serve and all because of me. I can’t let you do that, to yourself or to my people.” It’s a heartbreaking but eye-opening conversation. Zuko cannot leave his position and Sokka would be miserable as a Lord in the Fire Nation. They hold each other one last night, their last kiss long and meaningful to imprint the taste of each other on their lips and then pull back for the final time.

Zuko marries first, a woman he really likes and can help solidify his nation. Sokka is there the whole time, sad but also weirdly happy at the dopey loving look on Zuko’s face that used to be only for him. He thinks its called healing. They imagined the break-up being so much worse but they simply shifted back to their sword fighting without kisses afterward and gentle teasing though not draped across one another. Suddenly it was less of a burden to be together, no more worrying about being caught doing something compromising or the fate of their future. They were free to be Zuko and Sokka again, people who really, really enjoyed the others company. 

They remain the best of friends for the rest of their days. Sure they look at each sometimes with more heart than they need to and sometimes Chief Sokka will still reach for Fire Lord Zuko’s hand and “forget” to let it go for an extra few seconds, as if his muscle memory still thought they were dirty kids in a dirty war. Their wives and friends will exchange fond looks when these slip-ups happen, love that strong never quite goes away, simply finds new ways to blossom. So maybe the servants are extra attentive to the Southern Water Chief when he visits and former Chief Hakoda slaps the Fire Lord warmly on the back as he would his own son. 

Zuko is there the day Sokka dies, young and far too soon. The Lord of Fire cries as he hadn’t since his Uncle had passed not too long before. He tries not to cry too often, not just for appearances but because the tears that run from his burnt eye sear and sting with unimaginable pain. But that pain seems paltry compared to the beating ache of his heart as his best friend and one of the loves of his life lays dying. 

“I thought you bent fire not water,” Sokka quips, still following their usual script even at the end. He suddenly breaks pretense and holds Zuko’s pale hand to his cheek, leaning in to kiss the worn and wrinkled palm. Its a ghost of what could have been and even decades later both men still wondered what would have happened if Zuko had chosen to wear that necklace instead of hiding it away in a drawer. “Thank you for letting me love you.”

“I’m sorry I turned you down, I wanted it so badly, back then you were all I ever wanted-” Zuko says through shaking sobbing tears, all breath control, and control in general, lost in the face of the inevitable.

“You walrus-seal brain,” Sokka smirks, “I loved you when we were friends, when we were lovers, when we were fellow rulers, when we were husbands and fathers; I love you now when you’re gross and dripping snot everywhere. We didn’t lose anything Zuko, we still had each other and we were still happy. Not a bad way to live a life.”

“No, I guess not,” Zuko responds, leaning down to brush his lips against Sokka’s forehead. He no longer had claim to the other man’s lips but it felt less like a tragedy compared to the decades they’d had side by side as friends. One form of love wasn’t superior to another, it just meant you got to be with someone in a whole new way. “I’ll send your wife and daughters in. Goodbye my love, say hi to Aang and Uncle for me.” 

He spent that night huddled beside Suki, Katara and Toph as another of their own left them. He grieved the loss of large hands grabbing his arm, the clang of clashing swords, that sarcastic southern drawl Sokka never quite grew out of. But he did not lament the past. They had, in the end, made the best choice for themselves and their respective countries. When they’d been young, love had been about giggling kisses and wandering hands but love, real love, was not defined by its physicality. It grew when two souls drifted together and in the space between them built a home. And so long as he breathed, that home he’d made in his heart between himself and Sokka would always be lit and warm.