Mama's Girl
It wasn't easy growing up the only child. A series of excerpts from the childhood of Lin Beifong. Toph/Sokka, Rated M.
When Lin was less than a year old, she met her father.
This was the day her mother wore her hair loose. It flowed down to her backside in one thick, black stroke. Lin was in her mother's arms, gripping her kimono and pushing the silky hair through chubby fists. "This is it," Toph said, presenting the child to the man. When he reached for the girl, Lin clung tighter to the strands of her mother's hair, and the man was hesitant to take her. "Don't be so gentle, she isn't going to break," scolded Toph, and thrust the child squarely into her lover's chest. Lin's lips wavered and her eyes filled with water. The man held her at arm's length.
"Don't cry," warned Toph flatly.
"She's…uh, a healthy size," said the man. "Right? Um. Hi, Lin." He turned the girl to face him and cautiously drew her closer to his chest. He smelled like rainwater and old snow, something dusty and natural. To him, Lin smelled like bean sprouts and rosewater, an aftermath of living in the apartment above the city's noodle shop. Lin looked at her mother, who was crossing her arms and supporting her weight on the doorframe.
"Don't cry," Toph said again. The man held her for a moment longer before Toph snatched the child from his arms with a suddenly hostility. "Yeah, she's healthy," she answered. Toph spun on her heels and placed Lin in her playpen, a makeshift enclosure crafted from earth and a mesh metal fence. "No thanks to you."
He put his hands up as though he was still holding his daughter, but his tone was defeated. "Toph—"
"We're doing fine," snapped the earthbender. "I'm not being bitter. I'm just letting you know that we don't need your help and I certainly don't want it. So don't come around here patronizing me. Or the kid."
He was a large man, his build full and muscular, his blue eyes focused on the girl in the pen. He inspected the apartment from the doorway as Toph did not invite him in. It was not messy but not well-kept, either. There was a metal pot of water heating up on a small stove, a window that overlooked a playground behind the city's primary school. He thought of his wife back home, his two children, and the village that called him its mayor. His gut turned and he felt queasy. He put his arm against the doorframe, unconsciously pushing Toph backwards, and held his stomach.
"Sokka," Toph said, crossing her arms, "you can leave now."
"Please wait," he begged, his voice watery. "This is really unfair… I don't know what to say. I didn't know… I didn't think—"
"You didn't think!" Toph was laughing. She pulled her hair away from her shoulders and began rolling it in her hands aggressively, pushing it into a messy bun. "I mean, who knew sex for months would lead to pregnancy! It's really crazy, right? That's never happened in the history of human kind ever."
"That's not what I mean."
"Then what do you mean?" She was pointing at his chest squarely, her foggy eyes narrowed to slits. Her blindness never ceased haunting him, from the years he spent away from her to the nights they spent pressed against one another, breathing names and words of love and passion. He blushed at the memory and swallowed.
"I mean… I want to help. I want to be there for her." He pointed to Lin, who was entertaining herself with a stuffed air bison doll, courtesy of Sokka's sister. "I want to be here for you," he said. "You have to let me. At least listen to me."
Toph grunted, unconvinced. Sokka put his head in his hands. Later in Lin's life, Toph would claim that she did not find Lin's father handsome or charming or even very nice, but at this moment, Toph felt her grudge soften. She threw her arms in the air and turned around wordlessly, unable to face him. She scooped Lin into her arms and walked to the window. She turned off the stove and poured herself a glass of black tea. Sokka watched from behind his fingers. Surprisingly, Toph removed another glass from the cabinet beneath the sink and filled it.
"You can come in," she murmured over her shoulder. "I'm not bitter. We can talk. I'm warning you now that I have nothing to say to you. But I'll listen."