A/N: The Legend of Korra series, I regret to say, does not belong to me.
Lin was born on Air Temple Island, welcomed into the world by the smiling faces of Aang, Katara, and their three children. Sokka's arrival was impeded by the rough waters of Yue Bay, which were recovering from the lethal combination of a full moon and a nasty tempest out at sea.
As toddlers, Tenzin and Lin spent most of their time together. Toph had no patience for finding a baby sitter, and Katara had offered immediately to take Lin so that the Chief of Police could continue protecting the city. Lin was usually well-behaved, but Bumi seemed to have it in his head that he would recruit her for his own trouble-making schemes. Occasionally Kya would step in to stop the worst of the pranks, but mostly Bumi ended up at the mercy of his mother alone, without Lin's innocence to defend him.
As she grew, Lin became a spitfire of the wildest sort. She teased Tenzin incessantly, trying to coax a smile out of his frequently stoic expression. At ten years old, Katara could see that Tenzin would be far more serious than Aang ever was, and it worried her. She decided that Lin was good for her son, and continued to look after her long after Toph had offered to have Lin stay in Republic City alone during the day so that Katara would have less to worry about. But Lin had become such an integral part of her children's lives that she doubted they would want her gone.
It wasn't until Lin turned thirteen that Katara realized what a blessing it was that she was already a part of the family.
Crime in Republic City had sharply increased in the months following Yakone's legendary trial. Toph had been forced to take on extra shifts at work, resulting in nights when Lin would be terribly lonely in their little two-bedroom apartment in Republic City. Lin knew Republic City needed her mother more than she did, so she made no objection when her mother would come home during the wee hours of the morning and then leave just before the sun peaked over the horizon. When Katara discovered that after leaving Air Temple Island precisely at four o'clock every day, Lin was alone in the apartment for hours afterward, she insisted that Lin stay for dinner every night so that Toph would not need to worry about coming home to cook. This was just a pretense, of course; Toph Bei Fong, even when she had the time, had never been one to cook dinner (preferring to bring home takeout meals instead), and Katara knew this fact all too well. Really, this was just Katara's way to make sure Lin got a healthy dinner and didn't get into any trouble at their apartment with no one else around to help her should something go wrong. Though Katara had full confidence in Lin's ability to take care of herself, she felt that such a young girl shouldn't be on her own just yet.
Little did she know that Lin's independence would be the only thing to save her in the coming months, when a dark shadow hung low over Republic City, and its occupants wept salty tears of despair and loss. Fear flew through the city, making a nest in every home, leaving feathers of anxiety on every doorstep. In the years that followed, many would date the beginning of Republic City's decline as the day it lost its most loyal, steadfast guardian.
On that day, Lin, as usual, was spending the morning at Air Temple Island, training with Kya by the shoreline. The two girls were amiable friends, despite the difference in their ages. Kya was a fully realized waterbender, tall and elegant with light hair flowing all the way down to her waist. She was eighteen, five years Lin's senior, yet they had a sisterly bond that grew from many days spent training and talking, laughing at each other's mistakes and pushing each other as far as they could go.
There was a bit of uneasiness in Lin's muscles as she stretched, sliding down into the sand to do a forward split. Kya was a few feet away, stretching out her hamstrings around the rocky part of the shore that was their favorite spot to train. As Lin moved into a butterfly stretch, hands pushing down on her knees, she let out a deep breath of air she hadn't realized she'd been holding hostage in her lungs.
"You alright?" Kya's musical voice drifted towards her, blue eyes tinged with friendly concern and curiosity as she too went into a butterfly stretch.
"Just thinking." Lin avoided her friend's gaze, bending her chest down to lay against her folded legs.
Kya paused a moment, as if in thought, then mimicked the younger girl's movements.
"You know, I expect that sort of answer from my mother. Cryptic. Layered. But you, Lin? You're about as blunt as can be. What's on your mind that's got you thinking so much?" Kya was speaking into her feet, head nearly touching the sand. She had always been the more flexible of the two.
Lin's response was to stretch out her legs in front of her and walk her hands in the sand until they reached her toes. Kya waited patiently for Lin to speak.
Realizing Kya wasn't going to drop the subject, Lin sighed into the forest green fabric of her pants. "I don't know what it's going to be like once you and Bumi are gone," she admitted, her words muffled but still audible.
"Is that all?" There was a bit of shock to Kya's tone as she said, "I thought you were happy that we were going out into the world."
"I am," said Lin, letting go of her toes and meeting Kya's eyes for the first time all morning. "But I can't help but feel…left behind."
Lin could see Kya about to argue and rushed to say all she had to say before Kya could deny it. "You, Bumi, and Tenzin are the only friends I've ever known. Now two of you are leaving, within months of each other. Everything is changing so fast. I know you see me as the baby, and I know I'm just thirteen and that you all have bigger and better things to be doing than hanging around me, but I can't help but feel like once you leave…you won't come back. You'll leave me here, behind, and I'll just be a memory."
Kya's eyes widened, uncertain where such thoughts could have been cultivated within Lin's young mind. She sounded old, betrayed, like she had lived a long life of abandonment and feared that it would continue. Kya knew that Lin felt the absence of the father she never knew—never would know—acutely, for Toph had made it clear that any query as to the identity of Lin's other parent would be met with unprecedented fury. There was always something lingering in the depths of Lin's green eyes, something terribly sad and painful, when Aang stooped down to pick her up or give her a crushing hug. Aang was only trying to fill the space that her true father had left, but something held the earthbender back from giving herself over completely to Aang's kindness.
Kya's heart ached as she watched Lin stand, brushing the sand off her clothes silently. Her eyes were downcast, once again refusing to connect with Kya's pitying gaze. Lin didn't want pity, didn't need it, and knew immediately with a sharp pang of regret that she should have kept her thoughts to herself.
Slowly, methodically, Kya stood as well, searching for what to say that could reassure the young girl that the goodbyes on the horizon were not permanent. It was true; Kya was leaving for the South Pole in just a few short weeks, ready to learn the ways of her mother's tribe first hand in a place where her waterbending would flourish. Bumi, too, would be leaving come the summer, for he had been given the permission of his parents to enlist in the United Forces navy at just seventeen years old. It had taken a great deal of convincing for their mother to agree, but she admitted that he should start young if he planned on being a commander one day. Boot camp would begin, and then he would be off to the farthest reaches of the globe, defending freedom and all the ideals that their father had instilled in them since birth.
The waterbender watched as Lin passed her and went to the rocky edge of the beach, easily lifting the largest rock up into the air before tossing it a hundred yards. A chuckle rose in Kya's throat. If Lin's earthbending was this deadly when she was just barely thirteen, what would it be like when she was her own age? Who could ever hope to stop the legacy of Toph Bei Fong?
Kya glided gracefully down to the water, wetting her feet in the soothing coolness of the bay. Who could ever be unhappy when the smell of the sea made the air feel like home and the loving touch of the water was so openly welcoming? The tension eased itself out of Kya's shoulders as she lifted her arms, drawing a ribbon of water out of the bay with a small flourish of her wrists. Usually Lin would have insisted that they begin sparring by now, never one to dawdle when practice was necessary, and Lin always felt it was necessary. The girl never stopped…
"Ready, Kya?" Lin was already in a fighting stance, her lithe body prepared, comfortable to be standing along the rocky shore. Though she could not bend the sand beneath her, she did not mind, for it was a challenge, a test of her versatility. Kya had the advantage, as always, because she had an unlimited supply of water, but Lin enjoyed being the underdog. It made victory all the sweeter if she succeeded when all odds were against her.
"Of course," Kya easily supplied, moving into her own ready stance. But just as the two sprung at each other, water and earth colliding, there was a loud shout from the grass up yonder, the owner of the voice running towards them with heavy footsteps that pounded the ground beneath him, spurring him forward at a break-neck pace.
"Lin!" the frantic voice could not have been Bumi's, for all of its seriousness and fear, but it was. "Lin! Kya! Come quickly!" He was tripping over himself now, as he reached the place where the hill of grass gave way to sand.
Kya and Lin dropped their attacks immediately, a worried glance passing between them as they followed Bumi, who had already turned around and bounded back up the hill.
"Bumi, what's wrong?" Kya's voice was calm, but her eyes were not. They spoke the truth of the turmoil in her mind inspired by Bumi's urgency. "What happened?"
Lin and Kya had caught up to him, but he just pushed forward, sprinting in the direction of the rooms where guests at Air Temple Island would stay the night. As they approached the building, there seemed to be some commotion. Air acolytes were wildly running about, as though they had been given orders but were uncertain as to how to carry them out. Lin's stomach twisted when she saw that some of them were holding towels stained all the way through with blood.
"Bumi, what—why—" Lin began, but Bumi shook his head, shaggy hair shaking from side to side. They turned down a crowded hallway, trying to avoid the distressed acolytes who seemed at a loss for what to do. When they reached the room all the way at the end of the hall, they stopped, chests heaving, for Tenzin was standing outside the door, his face drained of all color and his eyes stricken with an emotion Lin could not immediately identify. When his eyes met hers, a shock of electricity went through her, numbing her body where she stood. She knew that whatever was behind this door was not something she wanted to see, and in the same instant, she knew that she must see it. So, gritting her teeth and willing her body to move, she went to slide open the door, but Tenzin stopped her before her fingers reached their destination. His hand was gentle, but his grip on her wrist was strong.
"You can't go in, Lin," he all but whispered, pulling her to his left, away from the door as another acolyte rushed passed them, wet washcloths in hand. The acolyte was careful to open the door just enough to allow his body to pass through, his yellow robes and red sash disappearing into the room as he slid the door closed behind him. Kya turned to Bumi, still a bit winded.
"What happened?" she managed to get out, a hand covering a stitch in her side. Spirits, she never runs that fast, even when dinner is ready.
Neither boy seemed prepared to supply an answer. They looked at each other, eyes imploring, as if willing the other to speak. Lin's hand went limp where Tenzin's firm grasp still held her wrist, as if he wasn't entirely certain if he could trust her with complete freedom of movement.
"There was an attack just outside City Hall." Uncle Sokka was walking towards them, Aang following behind him, their faces drawn into matching grave expressions, as though all the happiness their countenances usually held could never be called upon again. "The other council members have been hospitalized. If your father and I had been there, it is very likely we would be just as badly off, but we were checking up on a few things around the city when it happened."
Uncle Sokka looked down at Lin, who was standing closest to him, Tenzin's hand still locked around her wrist. Lin didn't want to look into his eyes. She didn't want to hear the rest of what he had to say. A stone, larger than any she had ever bended, had dropped into her stomach.
"Lin," Sokka began, trying to look into her green eyes but failing. The heaviness in his voice, the barely restrained despair, was all she needed to hear to know that something horrible was about to be said, and she didn't want him to continue. "Your mother led the police team that came to the council's aid. A nonbender…resistance, of sorts, has formed in the city, and it has grown stronger than we would have ever thought possible. They wielded weapons we had never seen, swords that could slice through metal as if it were butter. Your mother fought well—"
All eyes were on Lin as she yanked her hand out of Tenzin's grasp. She had been listening in a dazed state, uncertain if she should believe what was being said.
"Of course she did!" Lin's voice was strong, defiant. "She always does, and always will!"
Aang and Sokka exchanged a pained glance. Just then, the door slid open to allow a female acolyte to leave, and this time Lin was too fast for any of them. She pushed through the door as the acolyte was closing it and lunged into the room before anyone could stop her. She heard Sokka's shout to stop and Aang's insistent plea to come back out of the room, but it was too late.
For there, on the bed, was her mother.
Or rather, what was left of her mother's broken, bloody body.
Katara stood over her, feverishly trying to heal her and stop the flow of blood that ran down from large, ugly wounds on the woman's head and stomach. Her metal uniform must have served no protection against whatever had attacked her, for there were long slices in her armor, which lay to one side of the room, abandoned uselessly against the wall. Air acolytes hovered around, trying both to help and keep out of the healer's way. Some of them were holding towels to the chief's arms and legs, cleaning out more minor scrapes where a greenish fluid colored the edges of her skin ominously. Poison.
"Mom!"
Lin ran to her mother's side, heedless of the people shouting and trying to get a hold of her to drag her back out into the hall. Her mother seemed to be unconscious, and there was no occasional rise of her chest that would offer her daughter a bit of hope that she was still breathing. Lin fell to her knees at the side of the bed even as Katara insisted that someone please get Lin out of here, why on earth did they ever let her in, she couldn't possibly stay here while she tried in vain to save the woman's life. Lin felt stern but gentle hands grab her shoulders, and the next thing she knew, she was being lifted up and carried out of the room. She did not resist, could not summon the strength to fight, and fell limp as Aang carried her away, down the hall, out of the acolyte compound and on towards the many trees that stood just beyond the training area. She did not look up when she passed Bumi, Tenzin, and Kya, did not apologize to Uncle Sokka for her disobedience, did not speak as Aang carried her deep into the woods. At thirteen, she still had the slightness of youth about her, so it was not difficult for Aang to hold her body in his arms.
He did not speak when the first drops of tears fell onto his robes, did not raise his voice to admonish the silent sobs that wracked her body, did not even try to console her when the sobs grew from silent spasms to loud, uncontrollable shakes. When finally he placed her down, in the middle of a clearing in the forest, he had the decency to let her have a few moments to herself. He moved away from her to sit down a couple feet to her right, drawing his legs into their usual position for meditation.
Lin curled in on herself, holding her legs to her chest and letting her sobs vibrate through the earth beneath her. Neither knew how long they sat there, but at length the girl could cry no more. The tears were gone, leaving red, blotchy skin in their wake. She looked up, eyes bloodshot, and met his calm brown gaze.
Neither said a word. Neither had to. Both understood the unspoken grief they shared.
Lin rubbed at her eyes, which stung so badly she thought she would cry again, had she any more tears to shed. Instead, Aang stood up, offering her a hand. She stared at it a moment before placing her own in his. He lifted her up easily and drew her into a fierce hug that she accepted without her usual resistance.
Nothing was solved by the embrace, nothing fixed, nothing made any better by the shared warmth and love, for both knew that a hug could not save Toph Bei Fong. But the pain of the impending loss was ebbed somewhat by the knowledge that they would return to reality together.
Toph Bei Fong hung on for hours longer than she should have, given her condition. When Aang and Lin returned to the compound, Katara was still doing her best to keep the earthbender alive. Bumi, Tenzin, and Kya were sitting outside the door to her room, and Sokka was presumably inside, assisting Katara however he could. The three teenagers greeted Lin with such looks of grief and sorrow that she wanted to turn on her heel and run, but Aang kept a steady hand at her back, guiding her forward.
Lin sat beside Tenzin wordlessly, drawing her knees up to her chest once more to give her something to hold. Aang slid open the door to the guest room, and Lin understood that she was not to follow him when she weakly met his warning gaze. When he slid the door shut once more, Lin could feel it closing on her heart.
The acolytes were no longer rushing around the hallways. It seemed a somber gloom had settled over the dormitories, and no one dared speak a word to disturb the eerie quiet. Lin wanted to shout, to scream, to break the silent observance that seemed to be more of a death sentence than a vigil of respect. The silence was grating on her nerves, and each time Kya gave her that look, the look that said I'm so sorry, she wanted to break something; the wall, the floor, anything. Was it natural to feel so violent, with her mother barely clinging on to life just beyond the door?
Within the hour, it was done. Katara emerged from the room, wiping her hands on a clean towel. She didn't need to explain why she was done. One look and they all knew.
Toph Bei Fong was gone.
"She's all cleaned up, if you want to go in and see her now," Katara managed to say, though she choked a bit on some of the words as they passed through her throat. Aang and Sokka were behind her, and they stepped aside so Lin and the other children could pay their respects.
The white sheets had been pulled up to Toph's neck, so as to cover the worst of the injuries. The gash in her head had been bandaged, and Lin felt sick as mirthless laughter bubbled up inside her at the thought of how a corpse hardly had any use for gauze and wrappings. Her mother would call them a waste of time and resources. Unnecessary. The laughter never reached her lips, never broke the silence that she so desperately wanted to shatter. It never had a chance.
Toph's ashen face made Bumi want to vomit and he shuddered to think just how badly the woman needed to be injured for his mother to be unable to save her. He watched as Lin knelt beside her mother's bed, hands clasped together on the white sheets. Kya moved to kneel beside her, and Tenzin followed suit. Bumi had never been one for sentimentality, and he certainly didn't hold much stock in prayer, but as he watched the three of them bow their heads in silence, he decided that a little conversation with the Spirits wouldn't kill him. He knelt down to the right of Tenzin and willed the words to come, but he could not find anything to say to the Spirits who had allowed his best friend's mother to be taken from her.
It was Tenzin who was the first to stand, his robes gathered up so he wouldn't fall as he rose to his feet. His legs had turned to lead, and he could sense the sting of unshed tears pushing behind his closed eyelids. When he opened them, his eyes met Bumi's and they nodded in understanding. Kya, as if on cue, stood up as well, sparing Lin and her mother one final glance before nodding to Bumi and Tenzin. The unspoken words passed between them.
Lin needs some time alone to say goodbye.
And so they left, just as the silent tears started slipping down Lin's face once more. The door slid open and shut, and if any of the three siblings heard the sob that sounded as they walked down the hall, they never said a word.
Toph's funeral was a solemn black affair in Republic City. It seemed as though every citizen showed up to pay the respect due to the fallen Chief of Police. There were many tears, many heartfelt condolences to the silent little girl standing in front of City Hall, where the memorial service was held. The newspapers snapped horribly insensitive photos of the girl as she listened to Aang give her mother's eulogy. If they were waiting for the girl to shed a tear, they were sorely disappointed, for the Chief of Police's only child kept up a calm mask of composure through it all. The headlines all the next week spoke of Toph Bei Fong's heroism and legacy, celebrating a woman who had helped fight the war and who dedicated her life to protecting Republic City. A statue was cast within the month, so the city would never forget the woman who had died in the line of duty.
While the city mourned, a new Chief of Police was named. The small nonbending rebellion was quickly and ruthlessly squashed, its leaders rounded up and executed for attempted assassination of the members of the council, as well as the deaths of several metalbending officers and their chief. Most of the council members returned to their posts, though the representative of the earth kingdom was permanently crippled by the attack. The city carried on just the same as it always had, though many feared that crime would run rampant in the city without Chief Bei Fong's terrifyingly effective authority to lead the police.
Lin, now orphaned, could not continue to live in her mother's apartment alone. It was decided that she would take up permanent residence on Air Temple Island until she was old enough to move out and live on her own. Lin packed up what little she had, as well as her mother's things that she could not part with, and moved in to the female dormitory, in the vacant room right next to Kya's.
For weeks Lin tried to be herself. She told Kya to travel safely when she left for the South Pole just a few weeks after her mother had passed away. When they embraced, Kya could tell how thin Lin had become from the indentations of the girl's ribs beneath the waterbender's long fingers. She did not want to leave Lin, knowing that the girl was deeply troubled despite the cheery, strong facade that always managed to fool Katara. When Kya climbed onto Appa behind her father, she smiled at her mother and brothers, who had given her warm hugs and genuine goodbyes, and knew that they would be fine without her. As Appa lifted into the air, however, she caught a glimpse of Lin's false smile falling from her face, her perfunctory wave a testament to the lie she had told them all for days after the funeral: that she was "completely fine." Kya could not help the coldness of guilt steal upon her as she turned away from her family and Lin, uncertain if she would find the same passionate earthbender that she had grown up with when she returned. She could hear the words from weeks before that Lin had spoken the morning of her mother's death: "…but I can't help but feel like once you leave…you won't come back. You'll leave me here, behind, and I'll just be a memory."
Flying over Yue Bay, she knew that Lin would never be the same. Kya shivered, drawing her mother's traditional southern water tribe shawl closer around her shoulders as Lin's voice continued to speak above the roar of the wind in her ears.
"I can't help but feel…left behind."