Chapter 46: Holding Pattern

Chapter Text

Or,

Don't Wish It Away- Don't Look At It Like It's Forever.

It had been a week, and Azula had been left almost entirely to her own devices. The ringmaster had been so cowed by her that she hadn't even seen the need to learn his name, and had so more or less allowed her to set her own timetable. She had a place to sleep, guaranteed meals at least once a day, and all she needed to do to maintain this state of affairs was walk slowly around whichever wretched village the circus had occupied that day, and discourage any of the more obvious sorts of crimes.

And Sokka had been nothing more than a shape in the distance. He'd been as good as his word, and hadn't so much as looked at her.

She was horrified to discover that she didn't like this. For months, he'd been a near-constant presence at her side, slightly more persistent than her own shadow, and she constantly found herself turning to make a comment for the benefit of someone who was not there.

It was infuriating.

She broke a pickpocket's leg in three places before admitting to herself that she might have a problem.

Azula had always been persuasive. It wasn't too hard to rationalise tracking him down, on a sweltering afternoon with the sun hammering down on the latest in an interminable series of villages. This far inland, there was no reprieve from the heat, and anyone who wasn't a firebender would have found the temperature oppressive.

Still, she found him at the centre of a small crowd, in a corner of the public garden the circus had commandeered, his boomerang fluttering through the air. As she approached, she could her him suddenly begin to speak.

"This is kinda dull," he announced, with an exaggerated yawn, boomerang slapping back into his hand almost as an afterthought. "Alright, hey, lady! Hold still."

He pointed with his free hand at a young woman, lounging delicately in the shade of a brilliant flowering tree. She barely had time to nod mutely before the boomerang left his hand, almost too fast to follow, and it smacked back into his palm before the girl was showered in tumbling petals.

"What you think of that ?" he crowed. The woman blinked, and suddenly patted at her head, presumably to make sure it was still attached.

"It's all in the wrist," Sokka shrugged, over the sudden stutter of applause. "And also in the shoulder. And maybe your hand."

This all seemed… fine. He was fine, and not attracting any undue attention. She should stroll away, now, before her presence caused comment.

As she began to turn, she saw a bystander lean towards his companion and, not nearly as surreptitiously as he thought, muttered something amused about 'half-castes'. Azula's hands, entirely of their own accord, balled into fists.

Before she could decide what crime to charge him with, a flash of blue curled through the air in front of her, diverting her attention as her head turned to follow it, round and behind her and turning her directly to face a grinning Sokka, who waved at her like she was leaving for a sea voyage.

"Hey! Remember me?" he yelled, theatrically. "You told me to sleep it off. A good idea," he nodded, to the crowd.

Azula blinked, thoroughly lost. Sokka elaborated, ostensibly for the crowd, which was becoming uncomfortably interested in her. "I was just a jerk, bothering her at dinner. I was a bit drunk," he added, shamefacedly.

Right. Yes. He was establishing cover, explaining their conversation on that first night. Sensible.

"I'm really sorry,"

"Apology accepted," she said, stiffly trying to slot herself into whatever fantasy Sokka was crafting.

"Great. Back to work then," he grinned, and stepped back towards the crowd, acting like he'd forgotten they were there.

She watched him, for a few moments, trying idly to understand the way his shoulders moved as he threw and caught, then turned, slowly, to leave.

A whistling whip of metal past her ear gave her pause. She turned, blinking owlishly, and Sokka spread his arms wide, playing it up for the few remaining spectators, who looked more amused by his smirking than his tricks, now.

"Hey, where you off to? Stick around, you might have fun." His face turned mock-serious, and his voice lowered. "I know that scares you."

Azula scowled, but didn't find herself moving. He was enjoying this 'pretending-not-to-know-each-other' business far more than she had expected.

"I have work to do," she reminded him, as coldly as she could. He shrugged, in acquiescence, and the blue steel left his hand again, shimmering off into the morning.

"Yeah, I guess we both do, huh." He shrugged, as the crowd began to gather again, intrigued by the whirring flutter of the boomerang's flight. "Don't worry so much, yeah?"

She blinked, suddenly off-balance.

"You see, boomerangs" an easy throw, out into the summer sun "get thrown away all the time" a blind catch, left hand sneaking out to pluck it from the air like he'd left it there "and get back just fine."

Azula couldn't shake the feeling she was on the threshold of understanding just what he was talking about.

"It's like poetry," he mused, to himself, "or a metaphor, I think." Another throw, this one skimming past her, and without thinking her hand struck, snake-quick, and snatched it from the air.

"You think it over," Azula finished, triumphantly, handing the boomerang back. He grinned, and took it with a flourish.

"Okay, back to it," he said, setting his shoulders and turning back to his audience. "Alright!" he said, capturing their attention, which had begun to wane in the absence of impressive feats, "let's try something hard ."

She turned away, but heard the appreciative gasps from the crowd as he began to throw again.

"Oh yeah! Check that one out! -No, wait-"

The feeling in her chest lasted the rest of the afternoon. She eventually identified it as worry.

"Ty Lee. I need a favour."

It had taken hours to get her alone. Azula had eventually had to resort to waiting in her caravan until the sun dropped below the horizon. So her opening position might not have been as well-considered as she might otherwise have managed.

Still, Ty Lee shook herself, regaining her composure, and turned to listen, attentively.

"Sure! What do you need, Azula?"

"I need you to put Sokka in touch with someone who knows how to use a sword. He's carrying a weapon he doesn't know how to use, and that's going to be a problem sooner or later."

Ty Lee flopped onto her narrow bed, and folded up, eyes full of an expression Azula couldn't decipher.

"...Where'd you find that guy, anyway?" she asked, instead of answering.

"He fell out of the sky," Azula replied, more snidely than she'd intended.

Ty Lee giggled, softly. "Well, obviously. ...Anyway, sure, I think I can get a friend of mine to help. Jin- he's the trick swordsman, but he at least knows the basics."

Azula frowned. "Well, as long as he's teaching Sokka something that isn't stabbing wicker baskets or swallowing his own blade, I suppose that'll have to do."

There it was again, that look crossing Ty Lee's face like a shadow.

"You know," she said, after a while, "you could probably have talked to Jin directly. I bet he'd do what you asked, no problem."

Azula blinked. What could Ty Lee possibly mean by that ?

"Excuse me?"

"Well," she replied, breezily, "it's just that you're kind of getting a reputation, you know? You're kind of… intense. I guess nobody told you but usually the guards don't actually break fingers for a first offense."

Azula frowned. A reputation ? That was… worrying. She scowled as Ty Lee turned her back, unconcernedly removing her jewellery and other effects of her peculiar trade.

After a moment, Azula came to a decision. She hadn't wanted to have this conversation yet, but if people were starting to notice her, it might be better to have it dealt with before they got too much further inland.

"Ty Lee. When we get to the capital. When we get home. I want you to come with us."

She finally paused, hands halfway to one ear, back straightening all in a moment.

"That's a big ask." It came out flat, for Ty Lee, but Azula could hear the long breath behind it.

"Yes."

"You're saying I should leave this. This life that's mine , that I earned , that nobody pushed me into or told me I had to do. Just up and walk away."

"Yes."

"Why? 'Cause it'll be just like old times?" And if it had been anyone else, Azula would have called the edge in Ty Lee's voice a sneer.

Azula chose her words carefully, at last.

"Because this cannot be allowed to stand. Because someone has to hold Iroh accountable."

"Any reasons that aren't about you?"

As soon as she said it, Ty Lee froze, like she hadn't meant that to be voiced. Azula forced herself to remain calm.

"You remember what he tried to do to you."

"Yeah. I don't remember Dad having any complaints about it either, but that's not the point. I don't want revenge, Azula, I got out . I escaped. And I'm worried about you. I'm worried about what you'll let happen." Ty Lee started moving again, buoyed up by terror, or something else. But her thoughts had gone in a direction Azula hadn't expected.

"What do you mean?"

"Azula, I'm scared that you'll be killed. I'm scared that if you think you can get Iroh, you won't mind . You'll think that's alright."

Azula had no reply. No words came to her. Ty Lee took this as an invitation.

"And I know you think Sokka's going to be there to save you. But he won't."

That got a reaction, at last, a sudden flash of indignant fury, that this coward could say these things after so long hiding, after she'd done nothing -

"You'd send him away. You'd send him off to do something, and he'd do it. He trusts you."

"He knows better-"

"No. He doesn't. He really doesn't." Ty Lee's eyes were shining, her hands working themselves into knots. Azula sat, and forced herself to wait.

But I think I do. So I'll come with you, Azula. I'll do whatever you ask me to. But you've gotta promise me. You've gotta promise me I'll see you again when it's all over."

There was something stuck in Azula's throat, something hammering up from her ribs.

"I promise," she said, softly, and tried not to think of how much it sounded like a lie.

It seemed good enough for Ty Lee, who threw herself around Azula's neck with a strangled sound. Azula was grateful the girl couldn't see her face, and settled for placing a gentle hand on her upper back.

"It's not like old times, is it."

"No," Ty Lee mumbled into the armour of her shoulder. "Mai's not sitting in the corner glaring at us, for one."

Azula bit down on a smile. "No."

The firelight danced in his eyes as he caught her glance, and, so nonchalantly as to be far too obvious, he stood, stretched obscenely, and picked his way through the throng, and into the shadows of the maze of wagons. Azula waited a sensible handful of minutes before circling around to meet him.

This late, there was a chill in the air that nipped at the back of her neck as she left the firelight behind, and her footsteps felt loud as she paced towards the indistinct figure of him, leaning easily against the wood of a wagon.

"Hey," he murmured, as she approached. "What's going on?"

"I just …" why had she done this? It would have been safer, and simpler, to pass a message through Ty Lee.

She'd decided to do it herself because-

"...wanted to let you know. I've arranged for you to train under the trick swordsman. A man called Jin."

There was a moment of what appeared to be silent contemplation from the figure in the dark.

"Hmm. I have occasionally thought it would be nice to be a master swordsman."

Azula fought to contain a snort. "Don't get your hopes up. He's a circus performer. Aim to be a competent swordsman. Don't listen if he tries to get you to swallow your sword."

"Hah. Alright. Should come in handy." He leaned backwards, sighing with obvious contentment, and Azula felt some of the tension leave her. She perched, half sitting, half leaning on one of the wagon wheels, and stared upward, at the stars.

"I miss you."

"...Yeah. Me too." Until he replied, she hadn't been sure she'd said it out loud. "Still. We've both just got to hold on a little longer."

"Hmm," she agreed, deciding, for now, not to point out that neither of them were making any move to leave.