A/N:

A disclaimer: the following work was not done by me. A special thank you goes to Seyary-Minamoto for writing this short flash-fiction, as well as permission to post this here. This was a paid story commission, which included an accompanying art piece.

I hope you enjoy her work here as much I did!

- Solace -

Coldness had hardened her heart. She had seen things, fought monsters, the worst of them in her own mind. She had been feared, she had been hated, she had been betrayed. Loneliness was her only companion, for a long time.

She did not think the day would come when that would change. When someone would patch up her wounds, inside and out, and give her a chance to finally experience something, anything, other than the misery and chaos that had taken over her life.

It had happened before she realized it, before she could understand it. One of her missions saw her joining forces with him by chance, for they had sought the same outcome, and together they had succeeded where many others had failed.

A subtle, begrudging respect had grown between them. The barrier she still held between herself and everyone else had been lowered for him, though not completely. Trusting him with her life would take much more than just this, or so she had thought.

But as doubts arose in her heart, as uncertainties pooled and brought her to doubt him, Azula knew she didn't fear that he was merely an agent of Zuko's, sent to keep an eye on his sister.

No, her true fear was that Sokka might be doing it out of his own volition. That he would have thought he could form a permanent, real bond with her. And she feared that she was too broken, too damaged, to give him the friendship he desired from her.

Losing him would be more painful than anything she had ever faced. Losing him could mean her hard fought mental balance would disappear, for she couldn't fathom seeing another loved one disappear without being able to do anything about it.

So she had fought, tooth and nail, to avoid that. Against her better judgment, knowing he was better off with his other friends, knowing he deserved better than her, she had given her everything to fight and defend, to stand by his side whenever he might need her.

She had put her life on the line for him, and he had been dismayed, horrified after he helped heal her, upon the prospect of losing her, too. Didn't Sokka know his life was far more valuable than hers? Didn't he know he had more to live for than she did?

But his concern had moved her. She smiled at him for the first time when he was yelling, telling her to never put herself in such danger again. Did he not know he was the first person to ever want her safety in this way? It seemed so.

She hadn't heeded his words, still jumping between him and every possible threat to his life whenever they fought their enemies together. Yet while they were apart she made sure to survive, one way or another. She needed to live to see him once again, no matter what.

The first scar, the one on her lips, had been a threat gone too far. The man responsible hadn't lived much longer than that after he'd dared harm her: a black blade had been impaled across his chest for it, and blue eyes had glowed with rage at the enemy's blood.

The second scar, on her eyebrow, came from shoving Sokka away from a knife-thrower. The blade had spun and slashed her, and yet again, the one to do it had paid for it dearly. He had healed her later, but she hadn't smiled this time.

She didn't want to make him more like her. It wasn't fair to him: she always lost herself to the darkness, but she didn't want him to follow her there. That realization had brought her to cry, and he had held her that night, without understanding her tears.

But in time, Azula realized she wasn't quite corrupting him: he was pulling her into his light just the same, by bringing her dead heart to beat with wonder once again. By making her believe there was something worth living for after all.

With her ripped, blood-stained clothes, with her unhealed scars, with the days of journeying weighing on her, she had stumbled into the White Lotus campsite late at night to find him. And he had been waiting, relived to see her alive, even if she wasn't unharmed, yet again.

Long gone were the days when he would scold her, when he would lose himself to worry whenever she was hurt: he knew now, in his line of work, that it could seldom be avoided. He settled for knowing she had survived the threats and returned to him, as she had tonight.

In the dark, as all slept but them, the warmth of the fireplace wasn't what melted her heart's cold exterior and brought back the flames she had long lost. In her darkness, she found his light would shine far more brightly than ever before.

He had darkened his soul, becoming more like her, and lightened hers, as she became more like him. Their lives were entwined, their hearts beating together, at a pace with which they could both feel at ease.

Two children, born to a world at war, had turned the tides and found the unthinkable with each other. Two souls that were never meant to walk the same road together, had been brought to share battlefields with each other.

Nobody else knew of them, and nobody would. Their dalliances were a secret, one they protected with every ounce of their willpower. The two of them belonged in this secret life, in this balance between dark and light, between truths and lies, between lost and found.

But when it was just the two of them, it was easy to forget all the pain. When it was just them, it was easy to put aside all conflict. When it was just them, two lives that had been led in a world at war finally had found a kind of peace of their own making.

A/N:

Again, this entry was written by Seyary-Minamoto. With her permission this has been posted here for reading. If you'd like to commission her you can do so through DeviantArt or pledge to become a patron on . If you'd like to read more of her work, please check out "Gladiator" or "The Reason" for more Sokkla stories.

Hope you enjoyed this special installment!