I'm sorry for not updating in so long! I had an idea a long time ago for this, and wrote it out. Originally, this chapter was going to be Traditions, and was going to be a lot longer. I decided to chop it off and change the theme. The story will continue with the next chapter. Thanks for being patient!
59: Paint
"Toph, I know you don't like this, but please sit still!"
Toph's mother was busy painting her face, preparing Toph for one of the oldest traditions. At age sixteen, every girl would visit with the local Matchmaker, where the wise old woman would try to find them a suitor.
To Toph's mother, it was the most important day in the life of a woman. To Toph, however, it was pure torture.
It started with the clothes. The girl was forced into a long, suffocating robe. She was told it was a deep green to symbolize the might of the Earth Kingdom, but colors were meaningless to her. Then came the hair. The servants had spent almost an hour on Toph's locks, washing and combing and twisting until her head felt ten times heavier than usual. However, the worst part by far was the makeup.
Toph could feel her mother's delicate hands skimming the brush over her entire face. She couldn't tell what was happening, but by the approving murmurs of the female servants, Poppy Bei Fong was doing a great job. Layer upon layer of paint was smoothed across the girl's face, hiding her features. What's the point? she wondered. Why is she making me someone I'm not?
"There," Poppy stated. "You look perfect."
Toph stood in her hot gown and itchy face paint, commanding herself not to pull her hair back into its usual style. She would obey her mother, if only for today.
"Oh, I remember when I went to talk to the Matchmaker. What an amazing day that was…Toph, we better hurry. We don't want to miss our appointment." Toph's mother grasped her arm firmly, and, in a flash, they were rushing down the street.
Usually, the sixteen year olds faced this coming of age ceremony by themselves, but Poppy Bei Fong tended to smother her daughter. Toph hated that; her mother thought that, just because she was blind, she couldn't do anything by herself.
In no time, they had arrived at the grand house of the Matchmaker. Toph could sense a huge building with grand windows and walls. Her mother nudged her toward the door with tears in her eyes. Grudgingly, Toph entered the home.
Using her earthbending, Toph was able to detect an old woman seated on the floor next to the hearth. She seemed a bit impatient; the Matchmaker's fingers tapped against the ground relentlessly.
Toph walked to the woman and curtseyed like her mother had taught her. "I, Toph Bei Fong, seek your wisdom in the ways of marriage," the young girl managed to grunt out through gritted teeth. She wanted to be anywhere but here, where the stifling heat of the room pressed down on her and prevented her from breathing properly. Sweat beaded at Toph's temples, threatening to clear away streaks of paint from her face.
The Matchmaker got to her feet. "I shall help anyone who requires my service," she replied, sticking to tradition. "You will spend an hour with me, talking and eating. Then, I will assess your skill as a housewife. Hopefully, you shall leave here with the prospect of a husband. Now, come."
Toph followed the older woman to a table, where a meal was set. She tried to elegantly take a seat, but managed only to plop herself down clumsily. Toph could feel the Matchmaker's scrutinizing gaze as she picked up her chopsticks.
"No," stated the host harshly. "Always let your elders eat first. Did your mother teach you anything about etiquette?"
Of course she had. Poppy Bei Fong was the embodiment of perfect manners. Toph had just tuned her out during the long lessons on how to be a suitable lady. Trying hard not to snap her utensils, Toph waited until she heard the polite slurping of noodles, then took a bite of her own.
The Matchmaker interrupted again. "You do not gulp your food like a starving man. You must be dainty and proper."
Toph clenched her fist under the table and tried again. She didn't hear a difference between her own way of eating and that of the Matchmaker, but obviously the well-trained woman did.
"This is hopeless! You'll never be able to eat noodles properly. Let's move to the conversation part of the assessment."
It took all of Toph's resolve to prevent herself from attacking the woman across from her. What did she mean, eat noodles properly? Who cared how she ate noodles? Why were noodles so important, anyway? The fate of the world did not depend on how she ate noodles.
"If I ask you if I look nice, what would you say?" the Matchmaker inquired.
Bluntly, Toph stated, "I'd point out that I'm blind."
"Wrong! No matter what, you would tell someone that their dress is beautiful, or their hair is sleek, or give them some compliment. You do not have an excuse!"
Here, Toph lost it. For once, she would gladly use her blindness to her advantage. "Listen. I don't care what you have to say. I can do what I want. There's no 'proper way to eat noodles.' And if I can't see a person, how am I supposed to tell them their dress is beautiful? I only say what's true, and it's true that you're a horrible matchmaker!" Toph stormed to the door, sending a boulder to smash it open.
Toph could feel her mother standing, shocked, a few feet away. Immediately, Poppy ran toward the Matchmaker, presumably to salvage some of the family honor. But right then, Toph didn't care if she found a suitor. She didn't care if her family's honor was tarnished, and she didn't care about stupid old traditions. Angry, Toph headed home. She used her green sleeve to scrape away at the paint on her face. She probably looked ten times worse, but Toph could care less. She'd prove the Matchmaker wrong and live a life where noodles were the least important thing to think about it. Toph continued on her way, fantasizing about dumping the Matchmaker in a huge vat of pasta.
She had barely stomped ten feet when she heard a messenger shout something that jolted her out of her mood.
"Citizens of Gaoling! The Earth King has just decreed that, because of the lack of soldiers, one man from each family must be sent to fight in the war. If a man of at least sixteen from every family is not present at the gate by sundown today, he will be punishable by law. That is all."
Toph stood stock still, her brain trying desperately to process what she had heard.
Her father, Lao Bei Fong, was the only man in their family. He had once been a fearless general, but when he witnessed the brutal death of his second in command, he gave up. He had left for home, defeated and scarred by the horrible event. Toph knew that if he had to go back to war, he would die.
She raced home, not caring who she bumped into. No doubt citizens were recoiling in horror at her dreadful manners and paint-smeared face, but Toph had a single focus in mind: to stop her father from leaving.