Written for prompt 26: Glow, for the Avatar 500 livejournal community
"Let me get this straight," Toph says. "You want me to go where I'm completely cut off from any earth because of some fancy lights?"
"This is the best time of year for it," Sokka explains. "If we bring you all the way back to Gaoling and then go, it'll be too late. Come, on, please? I'll be your eyes."
Damn him.
When they land, all Toph feels is cold. Even in a parka borrowed from Katara and thick boots, ice seeps down to her bones. She is truly in the dark, cut off and alone. It's even worse than being on Appa because then at least she feels the animal's warmth. If such a thing as hell exists, this must be it.
Then a hand takes hers and she knows from the calluses and the length of the fingers that it's Sokka's. He leads her towards the faint sounds of people moving in the distance. Without her earthbending, sound and touch are all she has. She hears the greetings from the villagers, her companion's joyous replies. Another hand takes her free one, the voice accompanying it belongs to Sokka's dad.
"We shall do our best to make you comfortable," he says. Fat chance, she thinks, but for once keeps her mouth shut. She likes Chief Hakoda enough to be polite.
After dinner—no sea prunes, at least—Sokka leads her out of the warm tent and back into misery. Katara and Aang left a few minutes before, they might as well be in the Spirit World for all she can tell. "The best place to see the Southern Lights is on this hill right outside the village."
"If you say so," she answers grumpily. He squeezes her hand, and she thinks a seeing person might liken it to a single beacon of light in an underground cave.
An incline breaks up the monotony of trudging through endless snow; when it evens out again he lets go. Panic swells up from deep in her belly. Upon feeling his hand again she grabs it quickly and her cheeks go red. But he doesn't say anything, just pulls her down onto a fur he has spread out.
The silence is almost as bad as the lack of earth. "Has it started?" she asks.
"Yes."
More silence. She fidgets. "Sooo…what's it like?"
"Um…" He exhales. "What's the nicest thing you've ever touched?"
His shoulder is like rock supporting her, his leg is like a sun-warmed stone against her own, and his fingers entwined with hers are the only thing that makes sense in this nightmare place. "This ranks up there," she says, shocking herself, and Toph Bei Fong is never shocked.
"Thanks for coming," Sokka says, and puts an arm around her. Toph lays her head on his chest, feeling the beat of his heart through the layers of cloth, and turns her face to the heavens.