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The Fire Nation palace boasts rooms of all sizes, from measly dishwasher’s sleeping quarters to the royal family’s vast suites. Guests of honor are given lovely chambers with every amenity possible.
But Toph likes the earth tent she’d built in one of the more secluded gardens. It was big enough to comfortably fit at least five adults, and had been “decorated” by Sokka finding random plush things and scattering them around. It had been pretty funny when a particularly stuffy royal historian had suddenly started screaming about Fire Lord Sozin’s favorite pillow for his neck during his declining years going missing.
And Sozin’s neck seemed to fit well with Toph’s ass. She is not about to give it back.
As it was, camping in the middle of the palace was a way to give Zuko a break from the halls he’d grown up in. Even with the months she’d lived there, she’d never before noticed the way he’d flinch when rounding a certain corner, or stumble over his words walking through a room.
But since she and Sokka had found out his vulnerability to the palace, she’d become aware of so much. Zuko avoided parts of his home entirely, and he would even take a longer way to something to avoid a random hallway.
Sokka makes lists and maps every time it happens. Toph enjoys her new, self-appointed job of royal destruction crew.
All the new construction and decoration provides jobs to ex soldiers coming home from knowing nothing more than war.
And it was really fucking fun.
“Lady Beifong?” A timid voice sounds outside the tent, accompanied by a small knock.
“Yes?” Toph responds, feeling no need to go greet her guest. Who is probably a servant. They need to get used to her personality anyway.
“The Fire Lord has asked you to attend tonight’s dinner.”
“I’ll be there.” She gives a dismissive wave, not really caring there’s a wall in between her conversation.
“My lady,” there’s a moment of hesitation, “the dinner will be in the royal family’s dining room.”
Ah. Somewhere she has yet to visit with a few boulders. And probably shouldn’t until after they eat.
“Okay,” she calls. This is taking forever for a simple notification of dinner.
“My lady, will you need any help dressing for dinner?”
Oh. Oh fuck. What the hell is Zuko doing?
“Yeah, I guess,” she grouches, “I’m coming.”
When she gets to the dining room, Toph feels more like a sparkly doll than she has ever in the palace. From the way she can sense Sokka twitching and messing with his top as he approaches, he’s also been forced into fancy attire.
Really, what the hell is this?
“What’s going on?” Sokka’s whispers, as ever, are not quiet, and the guards standing at the doors viscerally turn towards him. Like he could even be half a threat.
“No idea. But Sparky knows how much I hate dresses. He wouldn’t do this if it weren’t a special occasion.” But something niggles at the back of her mind. As far as her training as a noble, and Iroh’s crash course on big Fire Nation days tell her, today is regular. Not Zuko’s elusive birthday or anything.
A knock comes from the inside of the room, and the doors are quickly opened.
“Damn, a double door entrance. I could get used to this,” Sokka sighs.
The room is just a smaller version of the formal dining hall they’d all been forced to endure during the coronation festivities, as far as she can tell. It’s not even that much smaller. Not at all like the room Zuko had allowed his friends to turn into their eating space when they stayed.
The weird feeling in her gut intensifies.
“Please, sit.” Zuko’s voice is also strangely formal, the way he talks to ministers or dignitaries. He only pulls that voice to mess with them. His heartbeat is slightly fast too, as he settles in at the table.
Rather than say something, Toph goes to sit at his left. Sokka goes to the right. That’s better. Zuko needs to be surrounded with friendship more.
Halfway through a very quiet, formal dinner, the blind earthbender loses it.
“What the fuck, Sunshine? You haven’t acted like this since ‘Hello, Zuko here’, and I hate it!” She slams her hands on either side of the plate of (super delicious) dumplings in front of her. Of course, they’re her favorite. Everything on the table seems to be something she or Sokka loves.
Speaking of the Water Tribe boy, he turns what Toph figures is an accusing gaze at the Fire Lord.
It’d probably work better if his mouth weren’t full of meat, but whatever.
Zuko suddenly sighs and hangs his head. He pokes at a piece of something with his chopsticks for a minute.
Then another.
He opens his mouth, then closes it again.
He shrugs.
“ZUKO!” Toph. Has. Had. It.
If she thought the way he shuddered at certain rooms was bad, she’s shocked when he literally falls over from twisting away from her, hard.
Ah! She’s so dumb. Of course Zuko has a visceral reaction to being yelled at; his father probably used to follow it up with fire and fists. Sometimes she wants to punch the shit out of Ozai all over again.
Thankfully, Zuko doesn’t get too far. His robes caught his escape, toppling him towards Sokka.
Sokka’s reflexes are pretty good, and he grabs his friend before anything important hits the floor.
Zuko quickly pushes away, and stands awkwardly separate.
“I wanted to thank you, and let you know it’s fine if you leave now. I know you both have responsibilities outside watching over me. I’m done holding you back.” His voice takes a bitter tone at the end, but none of it is directed at Sokka or Toph. It’s all self-hatred.
Either she’s about to punch him, or hug him. Her chest aches, realizing how much of a burden on everyone Zuko thinks he is. This past week, in the earth tent, he must have been telling himself he can’t let it last. That his friends would leave. Like everyone leaves him.
Before she can figure out what to do, Sokka goes right to Zuko. He stands very close, knowing not to just go for physical contact without warning.
“We’re here, hotman,” he did make a promise to bring it back, “Because we want to be here. With you. Not being held back by you, enjoying your company. Maybe even helping, because we’re smart. Because we’re friends.” Sokka speaks slowly, carefully, and reaches his arms out with the same gentleness.
Zuko has gone rigid, and Toph figures this is her moment.
She joins Sokka standing literally right in front of the Fire Lord, and holds out her hands.
“In case you forgot, Fire Lord Hotman,” she’s working on it too, “I live here now. Like, all the time.”
She may be the greatest earthbender in the world, but even she can’t hold back the crack of vulnerability turning into a sniffle as she continues, “You’re my brother now. I don’t want to go anywhere else.”
Finally, Zuko breaks too. He gives the tiniest sob ever, and throws his arms around both of them.
“I don’t want you to go. I just...I leech off people. Don’t you guys see that? I dragged Uncle into exile. You guys could be seeing the world with Aang, Katara, and Ty Lee. You’re in the home of your worst enemy.” The firebender’s words are spoken softly, little more than mutters. Toph hears the way his normally cool, raspy voice is now the dark side of hoarse.
Both Toph and Sokka exclaim negatives, and launch into lectures about how wrong Zuko is. His Uncle adores him. He wanted to be with his nephew the whole time. It wasn’t leeching if it was freely given. And he gave them so much too. Sokka had a guy his age to train with, and more importantly, be a good friend (if not more, Toph wasn’t crazy, she felt their heartbeats, she knew what was up). Toph had a home where she could enjoy all the pampering she wanted, but still be free to do whatever, and a sibling-figure to get into shit with.
“Plus,” she adds, casual as Bosco at a banquet, “It’s not like there’s really much for me to see of the world.”
The dam breaks, and the teenagers (and pre-teen, but say that to her face and she will fight you) are laughing.
“Now, can we please enjoy this awesome dinner like normal humans?” Sokka asks, still chortling.
“Yeah. I need to throw some fire flakes on this stuff though.” Zuko settles back down. His back is no longer stiff and he’s not doing his weird politicking voice.
Toph smiles. The process of getting Zuko comfortable in his own home had already begun. Now they could work on making sure he was okay in his own skin too.
But that seemed more like a Sokka thing, given how the boys let their hands linger as they passed plates of meat back and forth.