It was a cold night.

It always was. What was to be expected of the Water Tribe?

Sokka was the one to suggest going there; apparently the man was feeling homesick. After much whining and begging on his behalf, Azula found herself packing her things and attaining a ship bound for the Southern Water Tribe.

Sokka was more than eager to teach her of the Water Tribe culture as she had taught him of the Fire Nation.

But as of now, Azula was too cold to learn or retain any information. Her hands and cheeks were reddened by the frosty air, body trembling slightly (despite her efforts to suppress the shivers), and she could swear that her lips were turning an unsightly blue. She ran a hand over her hair revealing that it was just as snow coated as the rest of her…if not, more so. Each individual strand seemed to stick and clump together, held like so by a thin sheet of ice. The white flakes a direct contrast to her dark hair.

“We should get inside.” It was a suggestion spoken in such a manner that it may as well have been an order.

Sokka turned to his fiancé, gazing into her honey colored eyes. She blinked twice, causing the snowflakes clinging to her lashes to let go.

She sighed—a puff of mist slipping form her lips with it—and folded her arms across her chest.

“Would that make you happy?” Sokka asked.

“Happy, no. Slightly less cold, yes.” Azula replied.

Sokka took one of her hands and led her down a snowy path.

“Exactly how far away is our house?”

“It’s actually more like an igloo.” Sokka replied.

“Joyful.” Azula muttered sarcastically.

“And to answer your question; it’s far enough that you’ll probably want to burn me to a crisp by the time we get there.”

“Yeah, sure…if I still have my hands to bend with.” Azula pointed out. She flexed her fingers a few times, she could feel them growing number and number.

“What don’t you just firebend right now? Warm yourself up.”

“I’m too cold to put on mittens, much less firebend.” Azula rubbed at her throbbing fingers in a feeble attempt to ease the fridge sort of burning sensation. “Honestly I think I just lost all feeling in them.”

“I told you to wear the mittens I bought you before we even got out here.” Sokka recalled.

Azula pursed her lips. “They were ugly and I refuse to wear them.”

Sokka pushed the makeshift door to their igloo open. “Welcome home!” He announced with too much enthusiasm.

“It’s…small.” Azula noted.

“No, it’s cozy.” Sokka corrected with just as much enthuisaism as his welcome mantra.

“Yeah. Okay, sure.” Azula dropped her bag to the floor, suddenly glad she packed light. “It’s still rather cold.” She dropped herself to the rug.

“There’s a chair over there.” Sokka pointed.

Azula rolled her eyes. “This rug looks more comfy than that beaten thing.” She turned to the tiny fireplace and lit the logs within ablaze.

Sokka positioned himself next to her. “Still cold?”

“It’s been five minutes dum-dum, of course I’m still cold.”

Sokka put his arm around her, bracing himself to get pushed away. But she did not, not even a shove. So he pulled her closer, running a hand over her hair—which while no longer frozen, was damp with melting ice. He pressed his lips to her forehead.

She leaned into him, and with a degree of greed, took in his body heat. She trailed her pointer in small circles around his cheek. And then she lowered herself into a laying position, still facing the waterbender.

Sokka imitated the motion. Now laying down, Azula snuggled up against Sokka much closer. His arm found its way back around her neck, he trailed it downward rubbing lightly up and down on her back.

They lie there like that in silence, just taking in the soothing gestures and listening to one another’s soft breathing.

Azula offered him a gentle smile—the most genuine and innocent (well as innocent as she could manage) smile he’d seen from her that day.

And she was beautiful…beautiful and cute, but with a dangerous edge.

He traced the sharp features of her face (her nose and her chin) with his thumb and then her softer features (lips and cheeks). All the while wondering how one person could be so…so…contradiction. How she could look so vicious, yet so sweet at the same time.

It was that exactly that had Sokka so compelled to her.

Despite everything she had done to Aang and Katara and himself, he just couldn’t hold it against her.

He toyed absent-mindedly with Azula’s hair as he recalled how much of a pain it was to get her to mend her ways so to speak. And it was an even bigger pain to get the others to believe that she was in fact trying to change herself for the better.

But the struggle was well-worth it—for the both of them—whether or not Azula wanted to admit it.

The woman was lying rather still at this point, head resting on his chest.

Apparently the lack of conversation was either boring or soothing enough for her to drift into a sleep.

“Azula?” Sokka inquired. His hand now resting on her head again.

“Hmm?” Azula muttered softly, and without opening her eyes. She snuggled her head deeper into his chest.

“Just wanted to say you’re name.”

“You’re a moron…” her voice dropped into a yawn.

“That’s why you love me.” Sokka smiled.

“Mmhm…no.”

“Then why do you love me?”

Azula shrugged. “I just do, I suppose.”

“But—” Sokka started.

Still keeping her eyes shut, she moved a finger to his lips. “Shh. Don’t argue with it. Reasons are so trivial, just be glad I do love you…” she trailed off. She repositioned her hands again so that one was tucked under her head, and the other on Sokka’s collarbone.

It wasn’t the answer he was hoping for, but he was content…more than content really. And he assumed it was safe to say Azula was too.

He watched the snow fall against the window pane.

Sokka was right about one thing (at the very least), the place was cozy alright. And it was nice and warm…or at least Sokka made her feel warm.

Perhaps this little trip to the Southern Water Tribe wasn’t a huge waste after all.

Sokka let his eyes slip shut. And with Azula in his arms…just like that, they fell asleep listening to the soft pops and cracks of the fire.