HisMomoness
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Summary
Once a year, the Fire Lord decides to hike up a volcano and brood. Somebody has to go get him down.
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Sokka darts his eyes to the side and back to the road. His hands shift on the steering wheel. “We’re going to head to my place, then take the kayaks out.”
“Okay,” Zuko says, dragging out the word. “Out. Out where?”
“It’s a couple hours paddle, just along the coast. I figured we’ll stay for the night—have a nice outdoor dinner, stargaze, you know, all that mushy stuff—then head back after breakfast. It’s been a while since we’ve had some good quality time together.”
“Camping,” Zuko says flatly.
Series
- Part 3 of Predictably As
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Jagged peaks of blue and black, flattened by distance, are the only feature of the snowy expanse below the plane. The cloudless sky bleeds into the white, the horizon a hazy line of muted blue across the curve of the earth before it darkens in counterpoint to the faint glow of the ice. There is still sun now, light just cresting over the boundary between land and sky, and within weeks even that will be gone.
Zuko watches Antarctica draw closer as the plane descends and tries very hard not to lose his last meal.
When Iroh suggested that Zuko get away for a bit, it sounded reasonable and even desirable—Zuko can’t imagine a better place to run from his issues. Now that he sees the barren stretch of ice and cold, the longer he sits here and the exact nature of what he’s signed up for has time to sink in, the more this feels like a banishment.
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“Hey, babe, what’re you up to?” he asks, voice low. Zuko doesn’t glance up from where he’s crouched in front of the cabinets under the sink.
“The bathroom is disgusting,” Zuko murmurs. Sokka’s stomach clenches as he watches Zuko pull out a bottle of some cleaning solution Sokka didn’t even know they owned, a pair of gloves, and an unopened pack of sponges.
Well, shit. If Zuko’s about to rage clean, their odds of salvaging tonight are slim.
(A small lesson in communication and breakfast.) -
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Summary
Sokka turns himself upright out of his backfloat and treads water to scan the beach. Toph is on her knees in the sand, working on something he can’t see. “Toph?” he calls.
No response. He’s too far out. He takes a few strokes towards shore until it’s shallow enough to stand and plants his feet in the loose, sandy muck of the ocean floor. “Toph!”
She shouts back without turning around. “What do you want, Snoozles?”
“Get in here! I’m going to teach you how to swim.”