Chapter Text
'Oh the Irony.'
he mused silently as the dim torchlight danced against the frigid metal walls of his prison cell, painting eerie shadows across the expansive cell. Sokka knelt in the center, his hands tightly bound to a chain dangling from above.
Breaks into a prison, to free his girlfriend and father...
ends up getting captured.
A bitter chuckle escaped his lips as he contemplated the cruel twist of fate.
Then came the searing pain.
He grimaced, feeling the burning ache emanating from his abdomen, Each breath sent a sharp twinge through his body. The bruise had been caused by a powerful blast wrapped in electricity that had landed square on his midsection. It was yet another reminder of the numerous wounds inflicted upon him, during the prison escape days prior. Traces of the ordeal marred his shoulders and back, visible beneath the fabric of his prison clothes, the only semblance of cover he possessed. They had stripped him of his prison-guard uniform before confining him to this cell and up until yesterday, by order of the new warden, they had removed much of his freedom by binding him in these infernal chains.
Sometimes, when the pain became unbearable, the chains cruelly prevented Sokka from collapsing to the ground, leaving him suspended in a state of much discomfort. The prison bed provided wasn't anything close to the comfort of a queen-sized bed at home, but in comparison to the cold, unyielding chains, it felt like a luxury. Since yesterday, He'd found himself deprived of even the most basic prison necessities — eating, resting, and relieving himself.
He couldn't help but wonder at the twisted irony of his situation. What sick joke was being played on him, to be placed in a cell with all the amenities — a bed, food, and a chamber pot — yet denied the ability to use them? At least, in solidary confinement, one knows his conditions but being provided with relief yet unable to reach them was another level of torture. He had only been lucky enough not to have eaten anything while in confinement, but with each passing moment, he could only hope that his time in chains would be short-lived.
With no prior experience of prison life, let alone within the top prison of the Fire Nation, Sokka found it hard to believe that anyone could be so cruel. Surely, there were limits to even the most hardened of prison wardens.
No one could be that ruthless. Unless, of course, they were unstable.
He scanned the familiar confines of the prison cell, memories flooded back of the times he had visited his dad, keeping him abreast of the escape plan. Everything seemed eerily unchanged — the dim lighting, the cold metal walls, even the small window tucked away in the corner remained exactly where it had always been. Sokka couldn't shake the thought that perhaps, by some bizarre coincidence, he had been placed in the same cell as his father. Though, the change of prison cells, he feared, had absolutely zero effect on his fate
As he waited in the oppressive silence of his confinement, Sokka's thoughts drifted back to the decisive moment on the tram. He remembered the decisive moment on the tram. The surge of adrenaline as Azula and Ty Lee escaped onto the second gondola burned vividly in his mind. The two gondolas swayed precariously on their respective cables, separated now by an expanse of open air and the gulf of an ever-deepening chasm below.
Azula didn’t waste time. Once aboard her gondola, she turned with terrifying precision, her golden eyes locking on the mechanism connecting their gondola to its cable. Blue flames roared to life in her palms, their heat visible even from the distance, as she unleashed a concentrated blast at the coupling, her intent clear.
“No!” Zuko shouted, his own determination blazing as he stepped forward, planting his feet on the edge of their gondola. Without hesitation, he hurled a jet of fire toward the mechanism of Azula’s gondola in retaliation. His fire scorched the air as it streaked across the gap, clashing with Azula’s flames in a dazzling display of light and heat.
But Sokka quickly realized the difference between them. Azula’s fire was much hotter, more precise, and relentless. Zuko’s flames were strong, but they couldn’t match the raw intensity of his sister’s attack. While Azula’s gondola still swayed above the abyss, their own coupling was beginning to give way, sparks flying as the heated metal warped under the pressure.
Sokka’s stomach dropped. It wasn’t just that their gondola would fall—it would fall first.
He couldn't let that happen.
He couldn't allow her to sever their only lifeline.
He couldn't allow her to slip away.
He couldn't allow her to continue inflicting setbacks upon their team.
He couldn't allow her to sabotage their plans again in the future.
And above all else, he couldn't allow her to lay another finger on Suki, not ever again.
With determination blazing in his eyes, Sokka had leaped onto the second tram, leaving his friends behind, their expressions a mix of shock and disbelief. He didn’t think, didn’t hesitate. He simply acted, knowing it was the only way to stop her.
Even if it meant sacrificing his own life in the process.
----- Flash Back start-----------------
Azula’s fire ceased abruptly, her attention snapping to Sokka with an almost delighted look of surprise. “Well, isn’t this bold?” she said, her voice laced with mockery.
He had made a perfect landing between Ty Lee and Azula, his focus remained singular, fixated solely on the Fire Nation princess. He didn't even spare a glance towards Ty Lee. Gripping his sword tightly, he envisioned two possible outcomes: a swift strike that could end her life, or a decisive blow that would send her plummeting into the boiling waters below. Her gaze locked with his, feeling as if she was peering into the depths of his soul, probing his thoughts with an unsettling intensity.
Just as he prepared to charge, the sound of Ty Lee's approaching footsteps stopped him in his tracks.
"Don't," came Azula's chilling command, in her raised hand halted Ty Lee's advance. Her smirk dripping with cruel confidence that shook him to his very core. It was as if she was mocking his worth, diminishing him to insignificance with a single glance. a subtle yet potent display of her dominance. In that moment, Sokka felt himself shrink in her presence, his resolve shaken.
Come on! Snap out of it. She's playing with you again.
Then with a primal roar, He charged at Azula, his resolve unyielding as he sought to reclaim his sense of manhood. Every step forward was driven and within a second he closed the distance between them with one swing of his sword. She stood still, her expression unfazed, and With a graceful sidestep, she effortlessly dodged his attack, her movements fluid and precise; and In the blink of an eye, she struck back with a lightning-fast kick, sending him sprawling to the ground with a cry of pain.
"Sokka!" Suki's voice echoed from the gondola above, muffled by the distance but unmistakably hers. Relief flooded through him at the sound, a brief reassurance that at least his friends were safe.
Good. they made it.
But as he lay there, his breaths coming in ragged gasps, he realized the folly of his actions in a single moment. His anger had blinded him, leaving him vulnerable to Azula's calculated counterattack. With a bitter taste of copper in his mouth, he knew he couldn't afford another misstep. Despite the lingering pain from her kick and the heavy silence hanging between them bringing no inspiration, Sokka forced himself upright, steeling his resolve.
With determination burning in his eyes, he launched himself at her once more, sword in hand. This time, he altered his approach, hoping to catch her off guard with a change in tactics. As he closed the distance between them, her calm demeanor was unsettling amidst the chaos of their confrontation, almost as if he was allowed to get this close to her.
He feinted left before lunging right, but she remained composed, effortlessly evading his attacks with a grace that bordered on otherworldly.
Each strike from Sokka seemed to pass through empty air, his frustration mounting as Azula danced around him with an almost mocking elegance. Despite his time practicing under the sword master Piandao and honing his skills as a warrior, he found himself outmatched by her uncanny anticipation of his every move. Anger surged through him once more, driving his determination to land even a single blow against the Fire Nation princess.
"Azula! Look!" Ty Lee's urgent shout from behind them shattered the tense silence, her finger pointing towards the gondola landing bay. The sudden commotion drew Azula's attention away, her piercing gaze momentarily diverted.
In that fleeting moment of distraction, Sokka seized the opportunity. With determination blazing in his eyes, he lunged forward, his sword slicing through the air with deadly intent. For an instant, it seemed as though he might finally land a decisive blow against her.
He was going to....
But Azula was too quick, too skilled to be caught off guard for long. In a swift motion, she looked back and evaded the blade's deadly arc, narrowly escaping its lethal edge. Sokka's heart sank as he watched his strike miss its mark by mere inches.
Irritation flashed across her face as she realized the danger she had narrowly avoided. Her fingers instinctively went to her neck, feeling the warmth of her own blood staining her skin. For a moment, her gaze lingered on her bloodied fingertips before fixing on him with a chilling intensity.
Sokka gulped.
"You filthy..." Azula's voice dripped with scorn as her eyes set ablaze with fury. At the moment, his heart pounded with determination and fear, a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins at the realization that he had managed to land a blow, even though it was only a graze of his sword on her skin.
But before he could even process his victory, Azula retaliated with terrifying speed and with a crackling surge of lightning, she unleashed a powerful bolt of energy that struck him square in the chest, sending him sprawling to the ground once more, consumed by excruciating agony.
As darkness threatened to close around him, Sokka's vision blurred, his senses overwhelmed by the searing pain coursing through his body. He fought desperately to stay conscious, but the force from Azula's attack had been enough to jump-start a Fire Nation tank, leaving him battered and broken, his body on the verge of shutting down.
He cast one last glance towards Azula and Ty Lee, their figures blurred and distant as they remained embroiled in another altercation. And then, with a final, labored breath, Sokka succumbed to the consuming darkness, his world fading to black.
----- Flash Back End-------------------------
The sound of approaching footsteps pulled Sokka back to the harsh reality of his confinement.
No, he hadn't succumbed after that fight. This wasn't the afterlife.
He was still alive, still imprisoned.
Although, what fate had instore for him in the future, Sokka would wish he died that day.
His senses sharpened as he listened intently, the rhythmic clank of boots against metal echoing ominously through the corridor outside his cell. he strained to discern the source of the approaching footsteps. The sound become ever louder and louder until he was certain, they were right outside the cell door.
This is bad. Oh, this is so bad.
Sokka leaned upwards as panic rushed through his body. he tried to ignore the pain that came with it but with a steadying breath, he leaned back on his knees to be as rigid as possible and stared straight at the metal door in front of him.
Then, with a grating sound, the heavy iron door of his cell creaked open, and Sokka's breath caught in his throat as he braced himself for the inevitable confrontation. Panic threatened to overwhelm him as he desperately sought a plan, his mind racing with uncertainty and fear. He felt trapped, cornered, with no escape in sight. He wanted nothing more than to flee.
But to his astonishment, there was emptiness. Relief flooded through Sokka as he realized this time, she was not among them.
It didn't make sense. She usually came with them, as she had every other day since they threw him into the cell. Her presence alone was enough to send a chill down Sokka's spine, knowing that everything would instantly become worse for him. Her arrival changed the atmosphere; sending warning signals across the room. The guards took extra care in carrying out their orders, knowing that one misstep could result in dire consequences for both, them and the prisoner.
He vividly recalled those first few days, a harrowing descent into hell. She had interrogated him relentlessly, probing for information regarding his friends, the avatar and their future plans.
Every day followed the same agonizing routine. She would enter with the guards, who would promptly wrench Sokka from his bed, regardless of whether he was sleeping or not. They would cuff him to a nearby chair, and she would take her place opposite him, a table separating them. The questioning would begin, the guards lingering nearby to keep watch. And then they were dismissed shortly after, she would remain, beginning her private interrogation.
And by "private interrogation," she meant torture.
When the guards stepped into the dimly lit chamber, their figures outlined by the faint torchlight. Sokka could make them out clearly, none of them wearing royal regalia. Through the slits of their helmets, their eyes lacked the same intensity he was accustomed to – in fact, they donned the same prison-guard armor he once wore to blend in.
Their armor gleamed dully in the flickering light, their expressions masked in cold detachment as they regarded Sokka. With practiced efficiency, they circled him, their eyes scrutinizing his restraints with unwavering focus. With deft movements, they checked the chains binding his wrists, ensuring they were securely fastened and that he hung firmly from the center. Sokka gritted his teeth against the uncomfortable pressure of the chains, feeling his skin chafe against the unforgiving metal.
"Easy there, guys," Sokka said to the guards, feeling the discomfort intensify in his hands. "its not like I have somewhere to be, right?"
"Quiet, prisoner!" came the stern response, accompanied by a smack from behind. He fell forward enough so cause a sharp yank from the chain, preventing him from collapsing to the ground. Sokka cursed under his breath at the sudden jolt of pain.
"You speak only when spoken to," the guard commanded.
"Got it," Sokka replied tersely, his frustration simmering beneath the surface.
Two of the men helped him back up to his original position as the others finished their inspection, their heavy boots echoing against the metal floor as they roamed around his cell, likely searching for anything suspicious. He couldn't help but feel irritated by their actions. How could he have possibly reached his pockets to hide something, let alone throw anything to the corner or under the bed?
As if that wasn't enough, there was also this persistent itch on his nose that threatened to drive him mad if left unattended. Sokka fought the urge to scratch, knowing that asking one of the guards for relief was out of the question. He didn't want to give them any reason to prolong their stay in his cell. Right now, what he needed most was some piece of mind.
He also needed time to formulate an escape plan, to join his friends, to finally reunite with Suki. But his first priority was to recover. The first and only time he'd been treated was right after his capture at the hands of Azula. Strangely enough, she was the one who insisted that the infirmary checked him thoroughly, ensuring that every wound, be treated, to leave no room for infections and that her attacks didn't have any long-term or serious damage to his bones or organs.
Of course, she was the one who no later than twenty four hours, interfered with the healing process, damaging some of his bandages and undoing the progress made by the infirmary when they had their "private interrogations"
"Everything seems in order," one guard declared, gesturing to his comrades before making his way to the exit with them. "Don't worry, the physician will be with you shortly."
"Are you serious?" Sokka couldn't help but voice his disbelief.
"Yeah, don't worry," they chuckled in unison as the last one closed the door behind them.
That must have been sarcasm at its finest.
However, before he could fully process the implication of their words, the metal door clanked open again, This time a chilling presence, made itself known in the cell. A shadow fell across the metal floor, and Sokka's heart skipped a beat as he looked up to see Azula standing in the doorway, her eyes gleaming with malicious intent. Dread coiled in the pit of his stomach as he watched her slam the door behind her.
"I heard, you needed a physician?" Azula's voice dripped with sarcasm as she sauntered into the cell, her gaze fixed upon Sokka with a mixture of disdain and amusement. "Let me see, how badly they've hurt you."
Sokka's heart raced with apprehension, and he instinctively recoiled as she advanced. "No, no, no, you stay back," he warned, but his words seemed to fall on deaf ears as she continued her approach.
"Don't touch me!" he snapped, desperation creeping into his voice as he attempted to maintain some semblance of control when she was centimeters away. But Azula's expression remained blank, her gaze unwavering.
"Look at me." When he didn't move, one of her fingers touched right under his chin and slowly lifted his head upwards until their eyes met. "Tell me, who do you think you are, to address me like that, peasant?"
Sokka remained silent, a familiar strategy in dealing with Azula's taunts. He had learned the hard way that challenging her only led to more pain, but he also knew the dangers of remaining silent for too long. It was a delicate balance, one he had learned to walk cautiously.
Her expression unchanged, Azula's finger traced a path along his nose to his forehead. Sokka could feel her sharp nail brush against his skin before her touch was gone.
"How did you sleep?" she inquired casually. her tone belying the underlying threat in her presence.
The change in attitude didn't exactly help Sokka's situation, but he knew better than to remain silent when her mood lightened. The only problem was how to answer. He knew she didn't genuinely care about his condition or how he felt, so he responded as best he could.
"Not well," he admitted.
"Good." She turned around to examine the cell, much like what the guards had done before she came in. Sokka was grateful for the space she had given him, even if it was only for a short while. He could breathe a little easier.
He turned his gaze away from her, but not completely. Facing the wall, he could still see her in the corner of his eye, she'd taken a seat at the table they had used in the beginning to interrogate him.
"Could you please get me out of these chains?" Sokka blurted out. He didn't know if it was the right time to speak his mind, but these chains were becoming a real problem for him.
"No, I don't think so," she replied, and for a second, he thought he might have pushed a button, but surprisingly, she remained seated. "This is a prison, not a Day-care center."
He continued. "Then why lock me up in here? With a bed, food that's probably rotten now, and most importantly, a toilet I won't be using." This time, she stood up and walked over to him, and Sokka felt his heart skip a beat. When she was there, he knew better than to look away and turned his gaze back towards her.
She drew closer, her face now level with his, her eyes piercing into his with that familiar intensity.
"I wanted to give you a false sense of hope," she stated, her voice cutting through the air like a blade. "Who do you think instructed the warden to confine you here like a caged animal?"
"Why me?" Sokka's voice was tinged with both frustration and confusion.
"Don't flatter yourself. You're not that important," she retorted, straightening up and adjusting the chains. His head, now mere inches away from her waist; his cheeks flushed as he couldn't help but realize the awkward position they were in.
She continued to tighten the chains, even further, causing Sokka to wince in pain. "I attach more value to the chamber pot, over there, than I do to you."
His wrists throbbed as she tightened the chains, surpassing the discomfort inflicted by the guards. Sokka could feel the pressure, fearing that any more tightening would result in broken bones.
"Why not just kill me, then?" Sokka couldn't help but voice the question that had been gnawing at him.
"Simply because you've cost me my most valuable prisoners, dozens of my men, and even the job of one pathetic warden," she explained, her voice dripping with disdain. "Killing you would be a mercy."
"Then I must be pretty useful, after all," he challenged back, his defiance evident.
Her smirk only widened. "Indeed. Perhaps we should start by tending to that unruly tongue of yours before addressing anything else."
The panic returned as her hand clamped down on his face, forcing it closer to hers. He braced himself as he felt the heat emanating from her fingertips, his jawline was becoming warmer and warmer and just as he opened his mouth to protest in pain, her fingers pressed down on his tongue with a force that silenced him instantly.
"Aahh," Sokka let out a muffled grunt, his voice stifled by Azula's firm grip.
"What was that?" She mocked him, feigning ignorance as if she couldn't hear him. He met her gaze fiercely, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing his fear. Despite the excruciating pain from her fiery touch, he remained resolute.
"Oh, and I should add, I have quite the trigger finger. So if you try anything funny, we might have to bring in some cleaners," she threatened casually.
Like she read his mind, Sokka decided not to retaliate and bite down hard, on her fingers; which was all he could think about since she grabbed hold of his chin.
His heart began racing as he anticipated her next move, and then a second after, came the searing heat, engulfing his tongue in agonizing pain as if it were being scorched on a blazing stove. His stifled screams mingled with the sizzling sound, echoed through the cell, maybe even throughout the entire prison, a testament to his torment.
He felt tears welling up in his eyes, blurring his vision, but he clenched his jaw, refusing to grant her the satisfaction of seeing him break.
When Azula finally withdrew her fingers from his burned mouth, leaving it coated with saliva and blood, Sokka experienced a rush of relief, tempered by the lingering pain and a deep sense of helplessness. He was utterly at her mercy, powerless against her cruelty.
"Interesting," Azula remarked, her tone chilling, as she examined his fluids on her fingers before smearing them on his shoulder
"Please, just leave," Sokka pleaded, his voice trembling with pain and exhaustion. At that moment, all he longed for was the cool touch of water to soothe his burns.
"We're not finished yet," Azula retorted, her tone laced with a hint of amusement. "I still need to check your wounds."
"I'll do it myself." He insisted, his breaths labored. Each word he spoke felt like a struggle, a battle against the agony coursing through him. He didn't know how much he could endure, but something told him, this was only the beginning.
"No, no, this requires proper medical attention," she insisted, her hands moving to his shoulders. "Where does it hurt the most?" Azula inquired, her voice dripping with false concern.
He didn't answer but what she did next, surprised him.
Her hands moved to his collar, and with a quick yank, his prison shirt was torn apart, leaving him bare-chested. With free access to his chest, her hands began roaming around, grazing his skin with her nails. Her touch was rough, alien to him, breaching his personal space in a way he hadn't experienced before, ever; Not even Suki had ventured this far. As she studied his bruises, Sokka could sense, she was getting some twisted satisfaction out of all of this.
Her hands stopped at the bruises on his shoulders.
"Is It here?"
He didn't answer her. His gaze remained fixed on her, trying his best to steel himself against her touches.
"Or perhaps here?" Her hands halted at the scrap marks on his back.
Again, he offered no response.
She was millimeters away from him as her hands moved behind him to come back to the front and stopped at the source of his anguish.
"I think it's coming from here," she observed, her hand hovering over the area where the electric blast had cut into his skin. The red center was surrounded by a dark purple hue. After a moment, her hand covered the entire area.
"Say, peasant, who am I?" She demanded, her voice laced with contempt.
He still didn't answer, but the pain etched on his face spoke volumes.
"Who. Am. I." Each word was punctuated by a firmer press of her fingers against his wound.
"You're insane," he spat out, unable to contain the sharp retort despite the searing pain.
With a cruel twist, she squeezed the area around the cut, and he screamed in agony. It was a pain unlike anything he had ever experienced, surpassing even the torment of his days in captivity.
"Azula!" he cried out, his voice filled with anguish.
Her hand instantly retracted from the wound. A satisfied smirk played on Azula's lips as she remarked, "That's better. Although not exactly what I wanted to hear, but it will do for now." With a swift motion, she rose to her feet and made her way to the door, as if suddenly summoned by some urgent matter.
Sokka struggled to process what had just transpired, his mind still reeling from the intense agony. Despite the searing pain coursing through his body, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of his stomach as Azula's words lingered in the air.
As she was about to leave, he mustered the strength to lift his head, his gaze following her movements. There was something different about her demeanor, a subtle shift that he couldn't quite pinpoint until She turned around a second time to face him. Her stance seemed looser, and the glint in her eyes appeared distant, almost detached.
In a sudden flash of realization, he understood: this was madness, even by Azula's standards.
Lost in his thoughts, Sokka's gaze fell to the floor, his body still throbbing with pain. He couldn't help but wonder how far Azula would go and how much danger he was truly in.
After a moment of staring at him in silence, Azula sighed, breaking the tension that hung heavy in the air. "Well, I guess that's enough tending for today. I'll come check on your wounds tomorrow." With that, she calmly exited the room, her figure disappearing into the darkness as she snuffed out the torches behind her.
In the darkness, he shuddered unhappily, wishing for relief as he hung from his chains, He prayed for the torment to cease, longing for the respite of unconsciousness.
But it would be long still, before it came.
.