
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/228012.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Rape/Non-Con,
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Avatar:_The_Last_Airbender
  Relationship:
      Sokka/Zuko_(Avatar)
  Character:
      Zuko_(Avatar), Sokka_(Avatar), Hahn_(Avatar)
  Additional Tags:
      Character_Death, Slavery, Mpreg, Hiatus
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-07-25 Chapters: 2/? Words: 4547
****** A New Hope ******
by irethsune
Summary
     Instead of fleeing after Day of Black Sun, the invasion stayed and
     fought. The Fire Nation was victorious and the Avatar died. The Fire
     Nation needs to find the new Avatar and they know it will be part of
     the Water Tribe. What happens now?
Notes
     I do not own any part of the Avatar: the Last Airbender franchise.
     All I own is the plot and writing. I am not making any money from
     this.
See the end of the work for more notes
***** Prologue *****
“Aang! No!”
Sokka turned from the fire nation soldier he was battling with at his sister’s
scream, just in time to see the Avatar fall from his glider. His eyes widened
and he started to leap over a fallen body only to get pulled back by his
opponent. The tribesman struggled against the hold as he watched Aang hit the
ground with a sickening crunch.
Katara hastily froze her own opponent in a casing of ice and rushed over to
Aang. She fell onto her knees and clutched at his body.
“Aang, no! You can’t…” she trailed off, tears spilling down her face and gently
set him down. She desperately started to heal any wounds, refusing to believe
what she knew was true; Aang was dead. She didn’t have any more of the special
healing water and the Avatar was now dead. She choked back a sob, her body
shaking in exhaustion as it tried to keep up with her mind.
“Katara—watch out!”
She turned at her brother’s voice only to come face-to-face with a soldier. She
gasped as a white hot pain seared through her body, her instincts shifting her
body weight into the movements for a water whip.
Sokka watched in growing horror as he watched his only sister fall to the
ground, impaled on—ironically—a Water Tribe spear after slicing open the throat
of an enemy soldier.
Tears steadily ran down his face now and he thrashed in the enemy’s grip. He
didn’t smirk in triumph as he earned a grunt from the nameless soldier as he
elbowed him harshly in the gut. He broke free and stumbled over to his fallen
friends, trying to hold back his sobs.
A warrior does not cry, damnit. He doesn’t cry.
A sob broke free as he mimicked Katara’s movements from earlier and clutched
her body to his after breaking off the spearhead and taking the weapon back
out.
“Katara!” he screeched, “Katara, wake up! You have to… Y-you have to heal…” A
gasp broke through a new sob and he saw lights appear before his eyes, a sharp
pain exploding at the base of his skull. “…y-your…self,” he whispered out
before falling over unconscious onto the bodies of his two friends.
---
When Sokka awoke the first thing he was aware of was pain.
The next was cold metal digging into his body. Suddenly it was gone, then back
in a vicious prod. He let out a grunt and rolled over, only to be stopped by
someone grabbing his shirt and lifting him bodily.
“Get up, you miserable cur,” a voice grunted into his ear before shoving him
forward. “It’s time to start your first duty to your new Lord.”
Sokka pushed himself up onto his knees and craned his neck to look at the
other. “New… what?” he asked, almost screaming out the last word if it hadn’t
been for his dry throat.
The fire nation soldier narrowed his eyes behind the white face plate. “Get up
and walk,” he commanded instead of answering the question and pointed his spear
down the hall.
The Water Tribe teen narrowed his eyes and stood up on shaky legs, weak from
not having moved who-knows-how-long. Sokka walked down the hall, barely taking
in the red colors and others dragging their feet beside him as he tried to
remember what had happened. Anything he remembered flew out of his mind once
his eyes adjusted to the light outside and took in the scene before him.
Patches of fire burned throughout the grounds on fallen bodies, foliage and
random pieces of debris. Bodies were littered everywhere, no obvious
distinctions between his comrades or his enemies. It stunk horribly of burnt
flesh and hair and Sokka felt bile rise into the back of his throat. He
stumbled forward when pushed by the guard.
“Time to start cleaning,” the soldier said, a sneer clearly on his face behind
the mask from the tone in his voice. He pushed Sokka again before sitting down
to watch their prisoners clean up the spoils of war.
Sokka’s body went forward on autopilot, walking through the sea of dead bodies.
His eyes misted over with tears as he recognized some of the warriors of his
own tribe. He choked back a sob and started to carry a body towards the ocean
for the traditional burial of his tribe.
After doing this a couple of times his face had hardened to a mask of
indifference. He swatted viciously at a small flock of pigeoncrows which were
trying to get a meal from one of the many fallen bodies. He turned around with
a body slung over a shoulder and froze.
His eyes went wide and his knees buckled under him and sent him falling down,
the cadaver sliding back to ground. Tears stung harshly at his eyes as his mask
of indifference broke and he turned away, emptying his stomach onto the stone
ground.
In front of him, a few paces away, lay the bodies of Katara and Aang. Old, dry
blood crusted around them, the burns on Aang and the deep hole in his sister’s
stomach were the only evidence that they were dead instead of sleeping in the
sea of corpses.
Sokka couldn’t stop crying nor get up and eventually had to be hauled away by
the disgruntled guard.
The war was over. They had lost, he had failed, and the Fire Nation had won.
There was no more hope.
***** New Life *****
Zuko gazed around the Fire Lord’s hall from his seat at the long table. They
had won, but nothing seemed to have changed. He wasn’t sure what he was
expecting to happen if they won—would the world be off-kilter? Would everyone
die? Would there be a big celebration? Would he finally get acknowledgment from
his father?—but nothing wasn’t what he expected.
A small part of his mind was still having doubts about his actions—especially
betraying his uncle—but it’s not like he could change his mind. At least he had
chosen the winning side. Right?
The Fire Nation’s Prince was startled out of his musings as the dais was
surrounded by fire and his father took his place behind the flames. He inclined
his head in respect along with everyone else at the table.
“Fire Lord Ozai,” addressed one of the higher ranking Generals, “There is
nothing stopping the Nation’s victory now that the Avatar has been defeated so
close to Sozin’s Comet’s reappearance. But, as I’m sure you know, there are
still numerous details and problems to solve.” The General paused, only
resuming his speech once the Fire Lord gave his consenting nod.
“First and foremost, I think, is to address that we were told the Avatar had
already died. Killed by your son, in fact.” He shot a quick glance over to
Zuko, whose face tightened a little in stress. “I propose that we—“
“General,” Ozai interrupted, “The last Avatar is, now, irrefutably dead,
correct?” He raised a questioning eyebrow, barely seen behind the wall of fire.
“And Zuko has stayed loyal to us, to me, in the end despite… everything?”
“Well, ah… Yes, sir. But—“
“Then I see no reason to bring it up.”
The General bowed his head in recognition of the hint to move on. “Yes, my
Lord. Then the next problem we should address is—“
Zuko tuned out the others voice, internally frowning. He was glad to not be
punished for the lie—for that’s what it was, not a lack of knowledge—but he
couldn’t help be suspicious. The tone of voice his father had used meant he was
satisfied but not happy. He didn’t know if he was to remain unpunished or not,
but at least he knew to keep an eye open now. It was a small matter, now that
the Avatar was dead, but better safe than sorry his uncle had always said.
His eyes narrowed by a fraction as his thoughts turned to his uncle. How had he
escaped the prison hold so easily? I suppose he wasn’t called Dragon of the
West for nothing, he mused bitterly. He really regretted disappointing his
uncle, but he knew what he had done was right in the end. It had to be.
“—from the Water Tribes, so we must do to them what we accomplished with the
Air Nomads,” a different voice said, cutting through Zuko’s thoughts.
That’s right, Zuko thought, the Avatar hasn’t been killed forever. The cycle
will still continue. His forehead creased in a frown before he hesitantly
addressed the warlord’s in the room. He was still nervous about making a
mistake like the last time he’d been in here.
“But, ah… Despite the past victory of wiping out the Air Nomads, one had still
survived; the Avatar. It’s possible this could happen again.” He glanced around
at all the faces—some surprised and some neutral. “After all, it has been just
over a week since the last Avatar’s death. Word must have gotten around by now
and, for all we know, the new one could be recognized and is moving into hiding
as we speak.”
There were a few consenting nods around the table. The Fire Lord gave a slow
smile at his son, which sent a shiver down Zuko’s spine instead of comforting
him. “A good observation. Do you have any ideas, son?” he asked almost
mockingly.
Zuko glanced down at his hands folded in his lap, then back up at his father,
determination shining his eyes. “We shouldn’t just kill them off. We need to…
to control them. Control their population and culture somehow. Closer than
if—when they all become Fire Nation.”
“Yes,” the first General agreed, “we could plan another invasion up north. I
think we can spare enough men for that and they shouldn’t put up much of a
fight with their Avatar gone. And a smaller fleet to go South; there aren’t
many still living there. My Lord?” He looked up to Ozai, seeking his approval
to the rough plan.
Ozai nodded after a moment’s thought. “Yes, I think this could work. Once
there, don’t hesitate to kill any benders; they will be too dangerous to keep
locked away. The elderly will be of no help and so will any child—they will be
too old to be the new Avatar and too young to be of any use. Kill them all as
well. Imprison those who are left and bring them back.” He paused and smiled
slowly, giving an approving nod. “We will need new slaves around here once
those truly loyal are needed to oversee the other countries. We will keep them
closely guarded and we will shape any child they make to our standards. The new
Avatar will only be loyal to my Nation and me.”
Zuko looked back down at his lap, hiding a forming frown. He didn’t enjoy the
idea of killing children but it was for the good of the future and his father
made a valid point—they would only be extra mouths to feed with no use. He
smoothed his features and looked back up as his father continued.
“Spread the word through the armies and get the fleets together. By the end of
this week we will be on our way to conquering the Water Tribes permanently.”
--
Sokka glared at the floor as he scrubbed at it viciously. He’d been a forced
servant, a slave, at the palace for over a month now and it didn’t seem to be
getting any easier. So many people—his people, he reminded himself bitterly—he
had known arrived had just days before. They had seemed broken and he could
only speculate why. He didn’t dare ask what had happened and no one wanted to
talk about the horrors and murders they’ve seen, but it seemed obvious to him
when he had seen his own tribe minus Gran-Gran or any of the boys he had tried
to train.
He wanted to at least be there for anyone who needed a shoulder to cry on—since
it was his own plan that brought disaster upon them, after all—but they kept
him busy, very busy. They had decided it was only fitting he serve only under
their (never his; they would never be, no matter how much they try, he thought
as he scrubbed harder) royalty since he had been Aang’s close friend, he
supposed, and they had noticed he was the brains behind it all, so they always
kept him busy. Only time to eat, work, then pass out in sleep—never plan an
escape or counter attack to finish the battle how it was supposed to—
Sokka let out a small squeak as his thoughts were cut short by a harsh tug that
pulled him to his feet. He quickly gained his own footing and looked over to
who had interrupted his thoughts with a scowl set on his face.
The guard ran her gaze over his body with a disgusted sneer. “I don’t know why,
but you’re to be put through special training for your new job around here.
Follow me.”
Sokka narrowed his eyes and resisted the urge to squirm under the others harsh
gaze. It didn’t matter if you hated someone or not: a bad appraisal was always
uncomfortable. He followed the guard without a word, just glad to not be
cleaning anymore. At least he now had more respect for women and their work.
The guard stopped in front of a door and opened it, standing off to the side.
“Clean yourself. Thoroughly. Your new set of clothes is laid out inside. Your
teacher will be here in an hour.”
He blinked his eyes in confusion, but stepped forward into the room and the
door closed after him. He looked around the room; a large tub was filled with
steaming water with a few smaller buckets next to it. A couple different soaps
and shampoos were lined up next to a scrubber and other grooming products and
tools.
A small smile appeared on his face—the first in a long time—and he moved
farther in the room. He didn’t know what his new job was or why he had one, but
if he got to have a real bath he was all for it. He stripped off his clothes
quickly and threw them into the far corner. He knew they’d be burned and they
rightly should be—he’d been wearing them for weeks now.
Grabbing one of the buckets, he poured it over himself, shivering at its
coldness. He worked quickly to scrub off the dirt from his body before working
on his hair. After cleaning it, he trimmed his hair since most of it was
getting way too long for his liking then shaved off any facial hair.
Sokka let another smile onto his face as he sunk into the now warm water until
only his head was above the surface. He was clean and content to just laze
about until forced to move again. He was sure it wouldn’t be long until who
ever this teacher was arrived, but he deserved this rest.
He sunk lower and released a sigh, bubbles forming in the water in front of his
face. After soaking another ten minutes, he forced himself out of the tub to
dry off. He left the towel to hang off the top of his head as he inspected his
new clothes. He picked up the folded cloth and his face paled.
“What the hell?” he muttered to himself, eyeing the small cloth distastefully.
The clothes in the other corner were nowhere near wearable—especially now that
he was clean—so he wrapped the long, red cloth around his waist twice before
tying the ends and tucking the knot inside the waistline. There was nothing
else to put on, so he sat down on the protruding bench and, internally sulking,
waited for this teacher to show up.
--
It really was a bittersweet reunion for Hahn. He had already forced himself to
come into terms with never seeing his family again and to always be under the
Fire Nation’s rule. Seeing the last remnants of his family and culture put
under a constant watch and fall apart… It almost caused another part of him to
break.
Almost. To him, his tribe had disowned him by not searching when they had
defeated Zhao; so he, in turn, had disowned them. And now there really was
nothing left for him to hope for—there was a very small chance the Fire Nation
would let the Avatar slip out of their grasp again.
Hahn flicked his hair behind his shoulder as he made his way down the halls
towards the cleaning room. It was the only consolation he got for obeying
without even a dirty look, to get the satisfaction of training the new
prey—that’s what they really were, after all, to the Fire Nation—and eating
better meals.
He made sure his sarong was correctly in place before opening the door.
--
Sokka looked over when he heard a soft jingling then the door opened. He
quickly rose to his feet when he recognized the other as Water Tribe. He
frowned and brought a hand up to rub his chin in thought. His eyes widened a
little, hand dropping slightly to point at the other. “Wait—Hahn? Is that you?”
Hahn raised an eyebrow while studying the younger boy. He seemed familiar but—
“Oh. Peasant boy,” he said with a small sneer. “How wonderful.”
Sokka scowled and folded his arms across his chest. “My name is Sokka. But what
are you doing here?”
“As sharp as ever, I see, Sokka. I’m here to teach you. Obviously.”
“You’re the teacher? Oh, this is just great,” he groused, sulking more. “Well,
what do I have to do for those jerkbenders anyway?” Sokka snickered to himself
at his joke.
Hahn rolled his eyes. “Anything they ask. And if you’re lucky, you’ll only have
to serve one person.”
Sokka frowned, sitting back down. “Care to elaborate?”
With a sigh, Hahn spoke again, “You are going to be a multi-purpose servant
now, not just a cleaner. You will still clean, but you also could have the
duties of a cook, caretaker, or workman. Although I’m sure you won’t have to
worry about too many jobs considering how useless you are—“
“Shut up!”
“—but in addition to those,” he continued, ignoring Sokka’s outcry, “you will
also be responsible for any sexual relief your master or mistress of that time
wants.”
Sokka’s eyes widened and he started to sputter, standing up again in
indignation. “What?! Oh, spirits no!” he yelled, face twisted in disbelief.
“There’s no way I’m doing that for the Fire Nation!”
“You don’t have a choice in whether or not you want to. You will and if you
need to, you can always picture someone else. Yue, maybe?” he goaded, smirking.
Sokka snarled and threw a punch at the other boy, hitting him on his lower jaw.
“Don’t you dare talk about her! And why are you doing this?! Don’t you remember
they’re our enemies? They killed our families and we should be planning to kill
them, not working to,” he hesitated, his expression turning sour again, “please
them.”
“I know. But at least they care to see that I’m alive. Which is more than I can
say for my real family.”
“If we had known you were alive, we would have all gone out searching and
brought you back, you know that.”
Hahn frowned and looked away. “Either way, I’m just surviving with what I’ve
been given. It’s all we can do anymore, right?”
Sokka looked away this time, knowing he was right but not wanting to
acknowledge it. Hahn smirked to himself, knowing he had won the argument.
“Okay, now get on your knees.”
Sokka looking back up at Hahn, instinctively taking a step back. “What?”
Sighing, Hahn repeated himself, “Get on your knees. I need to see what you know
and how I can help you improve. How far have you ever gotten?”
He crossed his arms over his chest again, a light blush crossing his cheeks.
“Just kissing.”
“Figures. Okay, get on your knees,” he said again, “And I’m not repeating
myself. Most of the time you won’t even get orders to do something in the first
place; you’re expected to just know.”
Sokka felt his face grow warmer and reluctantly knelt on the ground. He gazed
up at Hahn in nervousness, not sure what to do.
The older boy sighed and rubbed at his temple lightly. “Undress me,” he
commanded.
Sokka lowered his gaze and let out a nervous breath. He forced his arms and
hands to not shake as he undid the knot holding up the other male’s sarong. He
let it fall to the floor then looked up at Hahn’s face again.
Hahn crossed his arms and cocked his hip to the side just a bit. “Now arouse
me. Get me off.” He smirked, and then
added, “Sucking usually works best.”
Sokka glared at him, the lingering blush on his face heating up again. He
dropped his gaze again and hesitantly reached a hand up to caress the other’s
cock. His fingertips gently slid down and he took a small breath, exhaling
slowly before wrapping his hand around it. He moved his hand along it, adding a
little pressure on his grip as he worked the other tribesman into arousal.
Hahn’s smirk faded as he watched Sokka, lust turning his gaze dark. He hummed
softly in pleasure and another smirk grew on his lips when Sokka glanced up at
him. He looked off the side at Hahn’s predatory expression and licked his lips
absently.
“Go on. Do it,” Hahn said, his voice a bit deeper than before. “Suck me off.”
Sokka’s eyes darted around in nervousness before settling on the erection in
front of him. He stopped stroking and studied it; it wasn’t too different from
his own, maybe a little smaller. He inwardly smiled at that, gloating to
himself. He took a deep breath and let it out then closed his eyes and leaned
forward.
He flicked his tongue out, softly brushing against the head. He made a face at
the bitter taste, but supposed he had to get used to it. He gave another
kittenish lick before taking it into his mouth. He pressed his tongue against
the thick organ as he took more in.
Hahn shuddered and he closed his eyes halfway, still watching Sokka work. “Yes,
good,” he muttered absently and brought a hand up to grip at the younger boy’s
hair.
Sokka opened his eyes and looked up, moving away a little when he felt his hair
being tugged softly. He quickly brought his hands up and rested them on Hahn’s
hips when he was pushed down farther onto his cock. He gagged a little and took
a deep breath to calm his throat.
Hahn groaned softly when throat muscles contracted around him. He tightened his
grip in the others hair and began to rock his hips forward, fucking the boy’s
mouth.
Sokka closed his eyes again, feeling tears prick at his eyes. He wasn’t sure if
it was from shame or pain, but he didn’t want to analyze it either. He
struggled to keep his throat muscles loose and still breathe. He’d stopped
licking and sucking but he doubted Hahn had even noticed.
After another minute, Hahn came with a soft groan, his grip on Sokka’s hair
tight enough to pull out some of it. Sokka winced then jumped slightly at the
liquid suddenly in his mouth. He gagged at the sudden rush and taste, but
instinctively swallowed. He pulled away when his hair was released, a little
bit of cum dripping down one side of his mouth. He wiped at it, transferring it
to the cloth around his waist.
“Don’t do that,” Hahn said, voice startling Sokka. He looked up questioningly.
“You need to keep your clothes clean. Along with yourself, obviously—no one
will want to use you if you’re dirty. That was good, but I had to do too much
work. Go clean yourself a little and we’ll try it again.”
--
Hahn led a newly clothed and clean Sokka down the halls a couple hours later.
The strings of bells wrapped around each of Sokka’s ankles sounded with each
step he made. He was sure he’d get annoyed with them soon, but he couldn’t take
them off—not if he wanted to stay safe. Hahn had explained their use but he
hadn’t been listening; something about only certain people being able to order
him or something.
Sokka stopped walking and tore his gaze from the floor, up to the other. Hahn
had stopped right outside an ornate door—or at least ornate compared to the
dungeon-like quarters he had been living in. Hahn took out a small key from
inside the pouch that was stitched into his sarong and unlocked the door.
“This will be your room from now on. Eventually you might have to share it.”
Sokka nodded absently as he walked in and gazed around. Just like everything
else in this country it was decorated in blacks and red with a small splash of
orange or yellow to catch your eye. There was a soft-looking double bed next to
a simple night stand and snug into the far corner, while a tall chest of
drawers was laid against the adjacent wall. Next to it was a fairly long mirror
which hung above a vanity desk, a small wooden chair tucked into the cropping.
On the opposite side of the room sat an empty basin—which he supposed would be
used for quick bathing—was a small chest next to it, probably filled with soaps
and scented oils.
It really was a nice room, but it wasn’t home.
He sighed and sat on the beds edge, glancing over at Hahn. “Anything else?”
Hahn walked over to the desk and opened a drawer, pulling out a single tube. He
tossed it over to Sokka, who caught it easily. It was lube. “Make sure you
always have that with you, just in case. Keep it in the pouch on your sarong;
it shouldn’t get in the way during anything else.” He sighed lightly and leaned
against the desk. “Remember what I told you. You could serve anyone: girl or
boy, top or bottom. Remember to always keep yourself stretched even when you’re
not expecting anything.”
He stepped away from the piece of furniture. “There’s supposedly a private
choosing happening soon—one of the royals is getting restless, or so the rumors
say. With any luck you’ll be chosen and only have to serve them until they get
bored again.”
Sokka nodded a little and bit at his bottom lip. This really was all too much
and it kept creeping up on him what he would have to do from now on.
Hahn moved towards the door, stopping at the entrance and glanced back. He
smirked lightly and said, “Welcome to your new life, Sokka.”
He left and closed the door, leaving Sokka to his thoughts inside the
oppressing room.
End Notes
     This fiction is on indefinite hiatus. I still WANT to finish it, but
     it's been a long time since I wrote it, so there are no guarantees.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
