Phoenix Prince

Summary - The new Zuko is nothing like the old one. And Sokka discovers why.

Disclaimer - I own...NOTHING.

Warning - Sexual Reassignment Surgery, slash (post-surgery)

A/N - Done for avatarbigbang's mini bang fic prompt. This piece is heavily inspired by the epitaph on Zuko's grave (Ashes to Ashes: In Zuko's Memory), and how it relates to Ozai's ambition to create new life (not the Christian belief that we begin and end as ashes!). I've never written anything like this, but it was hella fun. Enjoy!

From the ashes of the old world, Ozai's Phoenix Kingdom builds up quickly.

They find Zuko's shell-shocked body in Katara's arms, her eyes redder with tears than ever as she attempts over and over again to revive him. Even when she is dragged and locked away, she is convinced that there is still life in him. But it is over. Zuko has died at the hands of his sister.

Triumphant in her chains, Azula's smile slides off quickly when daddy returns home to admonish her. She has successfully killed her traitor brother, but she has destroyed her father's beautiful bureaucracy.

And with that, she vanished.

Parents tell their children ghost stories of Azula and her punishment. If you listen closely in the night, you can hear her dreadful screams, so you best be careful and mind your parents, or the Phoenix King shall take you as well. And not a soul shall ever see you again.

Two years after war's end and well into reconstruction, Sokka walks solemnly through the palace in his water tribe garments. The Phoenix King has abandoned the Fire Nation in favor of making his home Ba Sing Se, claiming to have a wondrous appreciation for Earth Kingdom culture. He leaves the soft-hearted deceased to rest in his childhood home.

It is where Sokka lives a servant's life, but truthfully, it is nowhere near as severe as he thought it would be. He had been on the forefront, directly sabotaging the Phoenix King's air fleet itself. Why had he not been executed, or heavily tortured at least? Instead, he helps run what has become a museum of sorts, to educate those in Fire Nation culture. Everything is accessible, they say, except for the gardens.

He has just recently received a message, probably from the Phoenix King's secretary's secretary's secretary, that if he continues to behave he will be able to visit his sister in prison. But she is one of the most powerful water-benders in the world. And so knowing Katara is probably kept isolated and chained down somewhere, Sokka isn't even sure he wants to see her in such a state. He's tempted to refuse and cause a ruckus. Maybe—he wonders in a night of madness and too much stolen soju—relive the old days, revive the rebellion. Destroy the gilded cage they have locked him in.

But no, he decides the next day in hangover and detention. Katara is his sister, and he wants to see her.

So Sokka learns to behave. He lives day to day, rising early to complete his chores and playing the occasional prank on the cook. It isn't so bad, as long as he forgets who he is.

When Sokka sees him, he thinks he's dreaming. He almost smacks himself.

Prince Zuko walks by as if he has spent all of the past two years in the palace. Decked out in full royal attire, including the crown prince headpiece fastened to his hair, he even gives Sokka a slight, acknowledging nod.

"…Zuko?"

"Yes?"

He doesn't know what's more disconcerting. Zuko's presence itself, or the complete lack of scar on his face.

"And that's Prince Zuko to you."

"What is going on?" He shrieks when he gets down to the kitchens. The cook has become a sort of passing, disgruntled friend to him, one who provides moody company but company nonetheless. "Did you see him? I saw him. I shouldn't have seen him, and you know why? He's supposed to be dead."

"There you are, being a pest again," the cook snorts, not looking up.

"How can you be so calm about this? Oh right, you weren't there to see him die! Have you seen him today? In case you haven't noticed, he looks just a little bit different!" Sokka gestures frantically at his left eye.

"Look at him all you want, this is his dinner."

"I'm bringing him dinner?" Sokka cries, voice cracking in horror. "This is just a plot to kill me, isn't it?"

The cook merely snorts again and shoves a tray in his arms. Sokka sighs on his way out. "It is, isn't it?"

When he enters with the hot food, Zuko appears to be studying something at his desk. He doesn't move away or turn his head when Sokka asks where to put the tray, and merely says, "Put it on the bed."

His tone is cold, clipped, and unnaturally higher than he remembers. Sokka stalls on his way over, doing his best to study Zuko's profile.

He prides himself on being a master of observation, but from what he could tell, there is no difference between this Zuko and the Zuko he once knew. A large fireplace roars and throws light on the prince's pale face. Sharp nose and chin, a strong jaw, narrowed golden eyes focused on his task. But a new flicker brings about a ghost of femininity in those long lashes. Sokka gasps softly and doesn't notice himself edging closer—

"Excuse me," Zuko frowns, finally turning to Sokka's hovering form. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Gah! Nothing!" Sokka says immediately, catching himself mid-step. "I was just on my way out. Enjoy your meal…um, Prince Zuko…"

He raises a bemused eyebrow. That night, Sokka goes to sleep listening to himself say, "I'm not the crazy one…I'm not the crazy one…I'm not…"

Newspapers aren't allowed to servants, and especially not Sokka, but he picks up on gossip when he can. People talk.

The news has spread that Prince Zuko has returned to the Fire Nation to complete his studies and be on his way to becoming Fire Lord. The Phoenix King has released a statement of how proud he is of his son, and how happy he is to have him healthy and alive. It is a gift from the Spirit World, he claims, that Zuko has been revived and fully healed from all the damage he has suffered from in his life.

Spirit World my ass, Sokka snorts to himself.

The Zuko that lives in the isolated palace with them does nothing but study and train. He always takes his meals alone, Sokka knows because he's the one who brings them to him. And though Zuko ignores him on his way in, Sokka swears he feels eyes following his retreating form. This silent, competent Zuko is a far cry from the brash, sincere Zuko he once knew. It is so off-putting he doesn't know what to do.

"Sokka, message for you," a servant from the Earth Kingdom hands him a slip of paper. He takes it with a small thanks.

It is a summons to Zuko's chamber well after dinner. Sokka spends the time beforehand contesting which was stronger, his curiosity or the utter creepiness of this new Zuko. He knows which is the answer when he finds himself facing the clear-faced prince by the firelight.

"Sokka," Zuko says, "I wish to ask you something of the utmost seriousness. I hope that you will accept."

"…Alright," Sokka says awkwardly when he doesn't continue.

"As you know, I'm bound to become Fire Lord, but I cannot do so without a vast degree of preparation." Sokka is only half-listening, focusing on the hands clasped in his lap. Do they seem slightly slimmer than before? "Unfortunately, this has amounted to much stress. When I confided in my father, he agreed that, as I am young, I must find a suitable outlet. Would you accept?"

Sokka raises an eyebrow. Stress outlet. Sparring? He hasn't been allowed to touch a weapon in years, and he's itching to throw something, anything. "Sure."

"Wonderful. We can start immediately. Take off your clothes and go to the bed."

"What?" Sokka's jaw drops open. Zuko's expression remains unchanged. "What do you—I mean what are you—!"

"I just asked you to become my concubine," Zuko deadpans. "And I was under the impression that you just agreed."

"I-I'm sorry," Sokka stutters. "I didn't think you meant…I'm sorry, I can't."

Zuko frowns deeply, narrowing his eyes. Sokka is about to make a run for it when Zuko suddenly says, "It would be dishonorable to force you such a task against your will." Sokka almost shudders at the familiar sound of honor on his tongue. "I will try to persuade you again in the future. For the time being, however, you are dismissed."

Sokka leaves with his head still on his shoulders, wondering if he'd heard him right.

When sleep refuses to come to him that night, he sneaks out to think. Past experience would tell him that this is a bad idea; the guards would catch him and back to detention he would go. But Sokka needs some fresh air and a sense of his old self to think.

As he nears the forbidden gardens, Sokka slows. The barricading around them is new and tall but not entirely impossible to get over. In the time it takes for a guard to walk this way and turn the corner, Sokka makes his decision in the shadows. By the time he's propelled himself to make it on the other side, another guard makes his way to Sokka's previous place, completely oblivious.

Sokka only manages to return to his bed and sleep when he knows he's witnessed something he shouldn't have.

Ashes to Ashes: In Zuko's Memory, the grave says. Right next to Jasmine Dragon: In Iroh's Memory. Both eerie and filling Sokka with horror in the moonlight. Something is terribly wrong.

The next morning, Sokka goes to deliver breakfast and accept Prince Zuko's offer.

It is the only way he will be able to see him more than three times a day. More than just that; Sokka will have nearly free access to his quarters, his body, and eventually his greatest secrets (he really, really hopes). All he has to do, he tells himself, is touch him like a good boy and he'll get his treat.

"Come on, Sokka," He whispers to himself as he walks to Zuko's chamber after dinner, trying to work up the nerve. "Come on, it's probably just jacking the guy off, you've done it to yourself a million times, nothing new but a different set of goods…"

Taking a deep breath, Sokka pushes the door open. Zuko remains at his desk studying, as if there is nothing out of the ordinary. He repeats his words from the other night. "Take off your clothes and go to the bed."

He just needs to get off, Sokka tells himself, he's just uptight from all the pressure and needs a good ol' rubdown. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing I can't handle.

Sokka eats his words and more when Zuko demands full-blown sexual intimacy. When he finally leaves that night, fully exhausted but disallowed from sleeping in bed with him, not a thought enters his mind until he pulls the covers over himself. He realizes…Zuko climaxed a good many times…but not once did he ejaculate…

Sokka sleeps with the sweat cooling on his body, dreaming of turtle ducks and Aang's last words and how Zuko really does have nice smooth skin all over, even when he's breaking his tombstone and rising from the grave…

Three months later, Sokka decides that this really isn't that bad.

Zuko begins to smile slightly when he sees him. He won't talk to him during the day when he's busy practicing forms or memorizing history, but sometimes he'll want to talk for a bit after they're done. Eventually, though it took a while, he invites Sokka to stay and sleep instead of having to stagger back to his own bed in the middle of the night.

This is good. The closer he is, the more Zuko trusts him. The more Zuko trusts him, the more he knows.

Sokka can gather up the facts in his head, and though they're all odd, he can't see them add up to anything. For one thing, Zuko has a rather small penis. Not just small, surprisingly short, and he has to wonder if that's where all his insecurities came from in the past. And Zuko prefers Sokka to top. And the skin where his scar was before feels as if it'd never been touched by fire. And though Sokka has gotten used to his voice, the pitch and rhythm are entirely off. He thinks about all these constantly, but gets nowhere.

One night after they've finished, Zuko asks a very peculiar thing. "Tell me about your childhood. Where did you grow up?"

"Why do you ask?"

"…Curiosity," Zuko responds, eyes looking indicatively at his water tribe garments. Sokka describes what he can remember. It's not much, he's rather disappointed in realizing. He recalls chasing penguin-otters, whacking Katara with fur pelts in the hut, maybe a little about his dad but it's too painful to remember.

"I think my earliest childhood memory," Sokka says, "is that one time I was really little and really, really hungry. So the minute my mom gave me my bowl of soup I gulped it all down, burned my tongue, and ran out to eat some snow."

At this, Zuko cracks a small smile, but it vanishes almost immediately after. He appears to be thinking hard. After a while, Sokka takes it as his cue to doze off, but then Zuko's tired voice interrupts him. "I think my first memory is…fire-bending before my brother could…"

Zuko doesn't witness Sokka's open-mouthed horror because he falls asleep shortly after his confession. But now, Sokka can only hope of falling asleep. What the hell did I just hear?

He has an idea, but it's insane.

What's even more insane is that he doesn't want to believe it, but not for the reasons he should. He's grown to like Zuko, doing things for Zuko, being someone for Zuko, and the last thing he wants right now is to discover that nice, happy Zuko is actually evil, twisted Azula with an extra appendage.

Sokka rules out the idea that Azula is actively impersonating him. She may have been a superb liar, but not even she could disguise her voice forever. This Zuko talks like neither Azula nor the old Zuko. And the Azula he remembers would have done something seriously sadistic in bed by now. This Zuko is surprisingly easy to please.

But he knows one thing for sure, and it could prove to reveal everything he's been missing. The Phoenix King resides in Ba Sing Se. Sokka remembers the changes that go on there.

There is one person in the palace who Sokka thinks might help.

After he delivers lunch, he goes to look for her. Or him. Or her? He's heard rumors of Ryoichi, the once wealthy young man who transformed into a woman. She was captured in the war for attempting to poison the Fire Nation governor of her Earth Kingdom colony. Though she keeps her distance from nearly all the other servants, something about Ryoichi reminds him of Toph. So that gives Sokka the courage to approach her.

"Um, hello?" He peers 'round the doorway, spotting a lone figure polishing a room full of artifacts and treasures. The figure turns her head. Sokka sees wide, pretty eyes skewed slightly with annoyance.

"Yes?"

"I was just wondering, if you weren't too busy, if you could help me out?" Sokka asks. When he gets no response but a blank face and a soft rustle of her rag, he continues. "You were originally a guy, right?"

She puts down the teapot with a resounding thud. "If you've come to make fun of me, just leave now. You're wasting your time."

"No, no!" Sokka exclaims, "I was just wondering, because you look a lot like a girl now, and I probably couldn't tell if I hadn't—"

"Heard from Taro? That bastard," She snorts, picking up something else to polish.

"Look, I'm sorry if it feels like I'm offending you," Sokka explains after taking a deep, contemplating breath. "But I'm just genuinely curious. How did you become a girl? I mean, your shoulders and hips match and even your face looks girly. I just couldn't believe it was possible, that's all."

Hearing this, her previous annoyance fades slightly. But she stays silent Sokka watches her polish an entire shelf, and then just as he decides that it's no use and he should leave, she begins with, "I never felt like a boy."

Sokka turns around and listens. Ryoichi continues. "It wasn't that I didn't like girls; that's different. Sometimes I forgot I was a boy until my father asked me why I was wearing a dress, and I'd snap out of it. He didn't beat me, he was above that, but he never understood me.

"My mother was supportive though. I had two older brothers, and she always wanted a girl. So on my sixteenth birthday, they agreed that I was ready for the change."

"The change?" Sokka asks, eyes widening. So it is possible.

"I was put to sleep for the operation, but I remembered how they described it to me," Ryoichi says, looking to the past and leaving her polishing forgotten. "It was very complicated, and very, very expensive. They used a combination of earth-bending and water-bending to mold my bones and muscles. A single misstep could kill me. I remember they had to measure and mark everything before they began." Ryoichi turns at this point and looks Sokka dead in the eye. "After all that, there was just one small medical step."

"The—?" Sokka gestures to his penis.

"Turned inside out," Ryoichi nods.

Sokka gulps. Mere earth-bending and water-bending; who knew that with enough concentration, skill, and learning, you could use those skills to manipulate the human body? Did they compare Azula's body with her dead brother's, side by side? Did they sculpt and transfigure and morph her face until it matched his? Flatten her chest, and crop her hair? Did they make her repeat at Lake Laogai, over and over like he saw, I am Prince Zuko, I am Prince Zuko, I am Prince Zuko…

"Thanks Ryoichi," Sokka says shakily, though he nods his head firmly. He makes a mental note to himself to do his best to halt the nasty talk about her.

After his first year serving the palace full of mental punishment and harsh treatment, Sokka has learned to be a little quieter about his revelations. And he has learned to act a little more stealthily about the situation. So he shuts his mouth for at least a month after the conversation with Ryoichi, waiting for the one moment where he will get the answer. Then, he promises himself, he'll strike.

But who will it be? Zuko? Even if he may actually be Azula, and even if Sokka may hate her enough to kill her, he stops himself. Sokka hates the memory of Azula, not the Zuko who grows warmer to him day by day.

Sometimes he wonders if his entire thinking is off, because Azula could not possibly be the one to curl up beside him at night and seek his company by day. Sokka isn't even sure he saw those graves by the moonlight anymore, because Iroh may be dead and gone but he sees Zuko everyday.

But then, he would witness Zuko snapping coldly at a servant who failed to perform his job, using words as a whiplash and power as his terror. His startlingly perfect face would glimmer with discontent, and Sokka would shiver at the old reminder of Azula's habits.

He has to find out. He can't go on simply observing and speculating.

That night, Sokka puts a certain fervor into his thrusts that he knows will leave Zuko slightly dizzy after. This state between wakefulness and sleep, he has discovered, is Zuko's undoing. He has let slip memories of being Azula on more than one occasion (I didn't like my mother and lighting was always my favorite) but Sokka thinks that if he is to be entirely sure, he must provoke him.

As Zuko calms, piercing amber eyes half-shut, Sokka says casually, "You must've been pretty glad when the war was over, huh."

Zuko says nothing and does nothing, and merely looks at him. Sokka knows he must prod further. "I know it must hurt, but…do you remember anything about me before your father won?"

"Sokka," Zuko frowns softly, and Sokka is so excited to hear him speak, "What are you talking about?"

"You know, the good old days," Sokka explains, "Me, you, Katara, Aang, Toph…"

"Sokka," Zuko says again, now more clearly disturbed by his talk, "I met you after you became a servant here. I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sorry," Sokka says quickly, wondering how he was going to save himself. "It's just…I guess I'm just a little crazy. I kind of wish I'd known you before, that's all. I was imagining things, you know how it can get."

Zuko nods, the disconcerted look lessening slightly. Sokka talks about other things until he can see Zuko wishing for sleep, and then tries one last time. "So…do you remember what you did in the war? Must've been impressive. I'd like to hear about it."

"Hmm…" Zuko closes his eyes momentarily, "I believe I…captured Ba Sing Se…then the Avatar…"

Sokka spends the entire next day on edge. I know something you don't, nor you, nor you, nor—he wonders if the entire palace is a conspiracy against him. If the Phoenix King intends to drive him to insanity with a fake version of his son. If Toph, Katara, and Suki are all suffering the same fates at the hands of princely doppelgangers. Maybe it's all an illusion. Maybe he's in the Spirit World, where Zuko's scar doesn't exist and his entire demeanor is reformed.

There is only one option. He must dig up the grave. For physical proof.

If he can unearth the real Zuko's body, Sokka reasons, then he would unearth everything. The twisted plot the Phoenix King has committed. The many more he might very well continue. And most importantly, seeing the bodily remains might make Zuko snap out of it.

He's not entirely sure if it would reverse the hypnosis, thus provoking Azula's personality, or fulfill it, pulling him out from the grey area and make him fully Zuko. It's a dangerous risk, but it is a risk he will have to take. Tonight.

I just hope it's Zuko.

The last thing he expects upon entering Zuko's chamber is an embrace.

"Wha—?" He says, completely confused as Zuko releases him.

"I have news from my father," Zuko says, eyes more alive than Sokka has ever seen them. "He said that I shall have my coronation on the last day of the month. My progress has impressed him far more than he expected. He already has people organizing the event."

That's because you have Azula's brain, Sokka thinks sadly, her evil, but genius brain.

"And I have asked for you to stay with me when I am Fire Lord," Zuko finishes.

"…As?" Sokka asks, wondering what the hell he could mean.

"As my Chief Advisor," Zuko says, "as a loyal and trusted friend. And, as I hope, my husband in name."

Why, of all the days, did he have to fucking propose on this day?

"Oh…I-I'm not," Sokka stammers, searching for something to say, "…so what does your father think?" he finally blurts out.

"He gives his blessing. He was the one who suggested me to you in the first place, after all."

"What?"

Zuko raises a steady eyebrow at Sokka's constant gaping. "Knowing that I was experiencing much stress, he recommended me highly to use you. And…" Zuko pauses suddenly to lift his lips in the most real, most beautiful smile Sokka has ever seen. "And I believe I have never been happier than with you."

Oh shit.

It had been planned. The Phoenix King needed a secure place to train his new son to become the pawn he so wanted in the Fire Nation. A bright and prodigal heir, like Azula, but a strong and male public figure, like Zuko. And so he combined them into this creature, who he knew Sokka would not be able to say no to.

Sokka cries and sinks to the floor, admitting true defeat for the first time since his capture at the war's end. Zuko, not understanding, takes his tears for happiness.

Can I still dig up this grave?

Sokka crouches in front of the tombstone, shaking hard, tears flowing freely. He needs to free Zuko from the Phoenix King. He would be nothing more than a pawn, ruling the Fire Nation exactly how his father intends. And Sokka, he would betray his people in this matrimony. He closes his eyes and tries to remember his people, his sister, Aang the Avatar who he once believed so much in.

But now, all he can see are Zuko's golden, trusting eyes. Zuko's focused, balanced stance. Zuko's black silk for hair and pale milk for skin.

Zuko has never had a truly happy moment in his life, Sokka realizes.

Staring at the grave, the two Zuko's in his life merge slowly into one. The disdain of his father, the cruelty of his sister, the disappearance of his mother…and then his banishment, his fugitive status, his joining of the Avatar's side, the losing side…

Why let Zuko's memory be stained with so much hardship, when he can let it be borne anew from the ashes? The Phoenix King has breathed life into Azula's empty body, and given it a soul that Sokka has fallen in love with. Looking over his shoulder toward the direction of Zuko's chamber, where he lies asleep and alone, Sokka realizes digging up this grave would ruin Zuko's one chance at true happiness.

He returns that night. He accepts the Fire Nation garments Zuko asks him to wear at his coronation. And when he finally stands with the Fire Nation insignia at his crown, he orders the gardens to be burned into ashes.

The reminder is too painful.