Nickelodeon owns all rights to Avatar: The Last Airbender. I don't claim to own them. This work is not intended for any form of profit and has been written without permission.
I'm not sure why, but with all that's happening in the Avatar-verse lately, I find myself thinking about the show almost constantly. This particular story came to me as I was watching the own-tastic Book 2 box set the other day ("The Blind Bandit," more specifically).
As you may have guessed from that last statement (and the story summary, since it's pretty safe to assume you read it), this story is one that focuses on my all-time favorite Avatar character: Toph Bei Fong. Unlike most of my other ventures, I do already have most of this story's plot planned out in my head, so writing should go fairly smoothly. I'll have to try and balance writing this and Order, but it should go all right.
Oh yeah, and I should probably mention that if you are not of the Sokka/Toph camp, then don't come flaming me when…well, find out for yourself. Fair warning!
Editing Note: Ever since the premier of Book 3, huge, gaping inconsistencies between the show and this story have appeared. The story was originally set in the period of time between Books 2 and 3 which, given the context, makes no sense now. Thus, I was forced to shift the setting to a post-war timeframe. This meant re-writing entire sections and completely omitting others, so please forgive me if some of it seems a little choppy. I'm trying to fix the holes as best I can.
Revision Note: Went back and fixed a few things that I'd forgotten, mostly having to do with the new setting.
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Color the Sunset
Chapter 1: Ashes and Embers
The warm breeze blew gently through Sokka's blue and white Water Tribe tunic, passing over him and bringing with it a sense of peace, calm, and serenity. As he looked out into the distance from his perch in a tall tree near camp he could see the sun sinking into the horizon, setting the skyline ablaze with beautiful swaths of pink, orange, and deep, fiery crimson, a sight that was so much more believable, so much closer now that he was that much nearer the sky.
Sundown. It was the warrior's favorite time of day, one when the entire world around him seemed to be at peace with itself, no matter the circumstances. He liked to take the time to relax, reflect on the day's activities (provided that there were any), and let the mind wander. Just to sit there and think. It seemed like such a foreign privilege now, one that he hadn't been afforded much chance to indulge in just a couple weeks before.
Of course, his wandering mind in these instances almost always led him back to one thing: that one day, so long ago, it seemed, when he and Katara had freed that goofy kid with an arrow on his head from an iceberg. It had been unknown to them at the time that Aang was in fact the Avatar; to Katara he'd been a sweet, fun-loving guy, something that their village had been sorely missing. Sokka remembered a little ruefully how he'd first skeptically seen the young airbender as a potential Fire Nation spy, only to meet the real threat later on in the form of Prince Zuko and his uncle. Things had changed since then, of course. Aang's mission had become theirs as well, their fates intertwined as they traveled the world, Aang trying to learn all of the bending disciplines in time to defeat the Fire Lord by the return of Sozin's comet. And when the end came, when Ozai finally was defeated and Zuko rightfully ascending to the throne, it seemed as though the sun shone brighter, as though the spirits had finally decided to release their death grip on the world and let the people take a collective breath not as four divided nations, but as one great, peaceful society.
Aang had been gravely injured in the final battle; without the use of the Avatar State he had been absurdly vulnerable, and it finally caught up with him. It wasn't anything that Katara couldn't heal, however, and he was presently recovering at a surprising pace. But even with his sister's efforts, Sokka realized that Aang was still weak, and needed a respite, not only from the business of the war, but from everything. Ultimately, he need to relax, to be a normal twelve-year-old kid for once.
His thoughts then shifted to the other members of their group. Katara, he knew, was stoic, strong, and unwavering. In a period of unexpected, almost violent change such as this one, she'd make it through just fine. In fact it sometimes seemed like she strived on adverse situations, pitting her admirable will against whatever fate could throw at her. But on the other hand, Sokka wasn't so sure about Toph. She was so volatile, so hotheaded sometimes that he wondered how she was taking all of this in.
And on the heels of that thought: I wonder what she's thinking. And after that, I wonder if she's okay. Then, Maybe I should talk to her. And finally, What if she's thinking about me? The last one surprised him. His mind wasn't usually one to runaway irrationally, so he wondered why he cared so much about Toph's thoughts. Especially the last one. Do I hope she's thinking about me? Why do I care? He didn't know the answer. The tree rustled merrily, its limbs brushing against themselves in the wind. It could have been replying somehow, possibly saying Beats me or No idea, perhaps even Maybe you're just hungry. Whatever the case, it didn't seem too sure either.
As the sun sank ever lower in the sky, its brilliant palette of colors fading along with the daylight, Sokka began a slow descent from his tree, a little reluctant to return to the real world so soon. From his vantage point he could now see Katara and Aang seated together by the campfire (which he now guiltily realized he hadn't offered any help whatsoever to set up). Aang was still slightly weakened from his near-fatal encounter with Ozai, but he was getting stronger day by day. He was nearly back to his former self, though Katara still insisted on caring for him almost constantly. The warrior smiled as he thought of his sister's demeanor; surely her attention extended just a bit beyond the boundaries of "motherly concern". Then he thought of Toph, sitting across the fire from the two, effectively distancing herself from them. This didn't surprise him; even he didn't like to be around the two of them when Katara was busy obsessing over the Avatar. It certainly didn't make for very interesting conversation, especially when all she seemed able to say was, "Uh-huh. Could you fetch me some more water?"
After a short descent Sokka made it back to ground level, noting with some dismay that he had torn his trousers somewhere along the way down; Katara would have to hem them yet again, though with her current priorities that could very possibly take weeks to get done, and he wasn't too keen on the thought of going pants-less for any extended period of time. He could just see Toph's face, contorting into some sickeningly smug little grin as she proceeded to hit him with her usual nasty sarcasm.
"Hey Snoozles! Is there a reason why you're staring at me?"
Blubber. Sokka felt an odd twinge in his chest coupled with an unsettling rise in his heart rate as he heard Toph address him. Perhaps it was the surprising fact that she could tell he'd been staring at her. Or maybe it was the heat that he now noticed rising to his cheeks. Wait…Why am I blushing? He was just embarrassed to have been caught staring, right? Yeah, that was definitely it. Hastily tucking his tunic into his trousers in order to (somewhat) conceal the tear, the warrior hurried over to his friends, dropping down unceremoniously next to the blind earthbender.
"Well?" Toph inquired, her tone more pressing than before, though Sokka thought he detected a hint of something…a laugh, perhaps?
Almost as if guided by some unseen force, Sokka blurted out, "There's something on your face!" Spirits, what the heck was that?
She grinned slyly. "I can tell you're lying," she pointed out in a sing-song voice. For some reason, the warrior felt his heart rate increase even more at this.
"Hmph! Fine then," Sokka replied grumpily, seemingly back in his own right mind. "You'll just have to miss out on all of these moonpeaches I gathered in the tree." True to his words, he produced four round, snow-white fruits and distributed two of them to Aang and his sister, who up to this point hadn't uttered a word, perhaps out of fear of retribution from Toph or perhaps out of sheer surprise that Sokka wasn't buried underground yet.
A surprising thing happened then; Toph's face suddenly softened and she sniffled a little. "You're right Sokka, I'm really sorry." Her sniffling increased in volume, and she looked to the ground as if afraid to meet the warrior's gaze. "Can I have one please?"
That was unexpected. Sokka could feel his heart practically tear itself in two at the girl's disposition, and he was about to give in to her plea when he felt the ground shift beneath him and all of a sudden there was an uncomfortable stone spike jutting out of the ground between his legs. Looking up at Toph once more, he saw the girl's usual winning smirk plastered across her small face. "But then again," she began, "you may just have to miss out on having kids."
Can't argue with that. Grumbling noticeably, was about to hand over the fruit when he thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Turning slightly, he saw some shrubs rustling on the edge of camp, and then…
"Hey!" Sokka shouted, bolting upright and dashing off toward the outer perimeter of the campsite as fast as he could. He was sure he'd seen something…or someone…behind those shrubs.
"Wait Sokka!" Toph cried, getting up after him. "I was just kidding! Really!"
But the warrior had already vanished into the woods.
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Where are you… Sokka was sure that someone had been watching them just a minute ago. He crashed noisily through the underbrush in pursuit, swatting tree limbs, bushes, and the occasional small animal out of his face as he flew past. Truthfully, he wasn't even sure if what he was chasing was real. Though, he thought ruefully, it had better be something if he was going to cause all the commotion. He could already imagine the healthy load of telling-off he'd get if this all turned out to be a wild arctic-hen chase. His thoughts were turned to more important matters, however, as he reached a small clearing after crashing headlong into a briar patch.
There it was. There he was. Whatever. A tall figure garbed in a long, flowing black cloak that hid its face stood at the opposite end of the clearing, almost beckoning the Water Tribe warrior to come and get it.
"Who are you!?" Sokka demanded, wishing his voice hadn't decided to slip into the upper register at that moment.
The figure seemed to chuckle. "You seem to be afraid of me." The voice was low, menacing, though for one wild moment Sokka thought it sounded vaguely familiar.
"Why were you spying on us? Talk!"
"You're in no position to be making demands."
This wasn't going anywhere. "We'll see about that," Sokka muttered. He drew his boomerang, and with a wild cry charged forward into the arms of his adversary. He seemed to be running with the wind, he noticed, which was favorable. It'll make for a good, strong throw. The figure didn't even flinch at this onslaught; instead, it almost seemed as though he rather expected it. As soon as he judged himself to be within reasonable range, Sokka hurled the weapon toward his opponent with considerable force. Not a terribly accurate throw; he had aimed for his enemy's head and instead saw the weapon sailing toward the chest, but it wasn't too bad for being on the run. However, a second later he saw his opponent simply raise his arm and knock the weapon away disdainfully, sending it spinning off to the side on its return course to its original thrower.
Sokka deftly caught the weapon, not sure whether or not he actually thought that would work. Better not leave anything to chance. Not wasting any time, he pulled out his machete and charged again, the weapon drawn back behind his head, enabling him to provide a quick, deadly slash. Once again he drew close enough to strike (albeit much closer this time), and took a mighty downward swing.
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Where are you off to, Snoozles? Toph wasn't quite sure of the reason for the warrior's sudden exit, but she was determined to follow him, if not just to find out what, for Spirit's sake, he was up to. This certainly wasn't unusual; she'd had to track the warrior down just the previous day after he ran off in pursuit of an "enemy scout," only to find that it was, in fact, Momo eating berries out of a bush. She wouldn't be surprised if this turned out to be another one of those instances. But another possibility loomed in the back of her mind: what if Sokka had actually seen something? Given the warrior's natural paranoid disposition and his tendency to fly off the handle at a moment's notice, it didn't seem likely. But this possibility brought a disturbing thought to mind: Sokka could be in trouble. What if he needs my help? She wasn't exactly certain why, but the thought of the warrior in trouble sped her pursuit, sending her tearing through the woods even faster than before.
Her passage through the forest wasn't quite as clumsy as Sokka's had been; her footsteps allowed her to "see" any incoming obstacles with relative ease. Thus, she ducked and weaved her way through the branches and shrubbery fairly quickly, almost with a certain grace about her, if one might call it that.
You'd better not get into any trouble when I'm not there, Sokka.
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Sokka wasn't entirely sure how he thought the fight would go, but he knew for sure that he'd at least hoped it would be going better than this. For what seemed like the hundredth time, he took a strong swing with his machete at his opponent, and for what also must have been the hundredth time, his enemy simply dodged away, shifting to the side noiselessly and effortlessly, like some elusive, indestructible phantom. It was like trying to catch smoke on a windy day. Sokka could feel his stamina wearing; he knew he wouldn't be able to keep this up much longer. Much to his dismay, the cloaked figure didn't even seem to be on the verge of tiring. In fact, he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the exhibition, as though he were simply toying with the warrior.
After a few more lunges Sokka finally stopped, his body simply giving out as he doubled over, panting, though still keeping a wary eye on his foe, who for some reason allowed the warrior his respite. Night had fully fallen by now; Sokka was finding it increasingly difficult to see. Fortunately the full moon was out tonight, casting a bright yet eerie glow over the figure's cloak, giving it a sort of ethereal sheen that could only be described as supernatural.
The figure chuckled, confirming Sokka's already dark suspicions that he was in way over his head. "Is that all the Water Tribe really has to offer nowadays? I'm disappointed," he rasped. "You aren't what you used to be, I can tell."
Sokka, somewhat recuperated, resumed his fighting stance. "Who…who are you?" he inquired skeptically, feeling more than a little troubled by his adversary's final comment.
Even without being able to see his face, Sokka would have sworn that the figure was smiling as he replied, "That is not for you to know."
"What!?" the warrior cried indignantly, tightening his grip on the machete. "Well then, why were you watching us?"
"I have my reasons."
"You're out to kill Aang, aren't you?"
That got a laugh. "Ah, my friend, so sadly mistaken. It's not your precious Avatar that I'm after."
"Don't go about acting like I'm your friend," Sokka spat viciously. "I know who my friends are, and you certainly aren't one of them."
"Oh, you're right. Having me be your enemy was going so well for you."
The warrior bristled. "Are you calling me weak?"
"Well you are from the Water Tribe, aren't you?"
That did it. Enraged, Sokka let out a savage yell and rushed the figure once more. This time though, he pulled his boomerang and hurled it as he ran forth with his machete in hand, hoping to create some cover. The projectile was arcing from the right; Sokka angled his approach so that his assault would hit from the left. He drew closer by the second, now mere yards away from his target.
But the figure had decided that enough was enough. Before the Sokka could react, his adversary had driven his elbow deep into his stomach with shocking force. The warrior could practically feel his windpipe collapse as the wind was knocked out of him. Sokka then felt the man's hands wrap around his neck, enveloping him in a choke hold. Dimly, he felt himself lift off the ground just in time for the boomerang to collide with his forehead and slash through his copper toned skin with its finely-honed edge.
Sokka could barely register what was happening at this point; the lack of oxygen was smothering his senses. The man's hands felt scorching hot on his neck for some reason, further accentuating his need for air. His struggles were weakening, his limbs as heavy as any boulder Toph had ever bended.
Toph… For some reason Sokka found himself thinking of the blind earthbender as he struggled, bleeding and helpless, in his adversary's grasp with a wistfulness that surprised even himself. I wish she was here so I could tell her I'm sorry about the moonpeaches…
"Hey! Get your hands off of him, lunkhead!"
Right on cue, Sokka mustered up the strength to glance over across the clearing to where Toph Bei Fong now stood in full earthbending stance, a look of defiant confidence on her face that was accompanied by what seemed almost like pure, unadulterated anger. Odd combination, Sokka thought. She usually laughs and makes fun of people before she beats them up…
The earth beneath them shifted suddenly, and Sokka felt himself drop to the ground as the figure sank into the ground up to his waist. Gasping greedily at the much-needed air, Sokka saw Toph heading in their direction, her steps shaking the earth so much that the man was jolted violently every time her foot hit the earth.
"All right, idiot," Toph said harshly as she came to a stop in front of the man, her face level with his due to her earthbending. "I've got some questions and I'm pretty sure you've got the answers."
After what seemed like a long time, the man finally spat, "I have no time for this. I will deal with you…soon enough." There was a blinding flash of red light, and Sokka felt a searing heat on his side emanating from the burst. He turned after the light had subsided to see that his adversary had disappeared.
"Huh," Toph grunted, spitting off to the side like she always did. "Well, it's nice to know he got scared off by a little girl." She then shifted her attention to the warrior, who was just now getting back on his feet. "You okay?"
Sokka groaned, massaging his neck gingerly where the man had just minutes before been throttling the life out of him. "Yeah, I think so. That guy's got quite a grip."
He bent down, studying the spot where the man had just been. Surprisingly, he found that the grass had been scorched away; whatever was left had been reduced to smoldering cinders. Even more surprising, though, was the object he found laying in the center of the spot.
"What the…" Sokka muttered, picking up and studying the object. It appeared to be a gold bracelet, intricately patterned and masterfully shaped. In the center was a large stone which appeared to be an emerald. He was about to show it to Toph and comment on how it matched her clothes when she interrupted.
"Look, are you sure you're okay?"
Sokka was taken aback. She never showed this much concern, especially not for him. "Yeah, I'm fine," he replied after a second of gathering his composure over her strange shift in mood.
She looked at him and flashed a genuine smile. "I'm glad." This was beginning to seriously creep him out, he though. "Now come on, let's get back to camp." She began to walk briskly out of the clearing.
Sokka stared for a moment and then followed suit, not really keen on the idea of being left alone again in the spot where so shortly before he'd been struggling for his life. "Hey Toph, wait up!"