Published May 28, 2016

Author's Note: It has now been five years since I posted the first chapter of this, my first fan fiction! That makes an average of ten updates and 100 reviews per year. I thank and bless everyone who has come on this journey with me, regardless of when you began reading this story, whether you've followed updates for years, or just found and binge-read it.

It seems that the last time I updated this story, some readers didn't realize that the new chapter was at the beginning of the narrative, not the end. I'm finally taking steps to revise and restructure the Book 1 section of this narrative. I added a prologue, "Red and Blue," and rewrote the chapter after that. I'm sorry for any confusion this causes, and for the long time between updates for the postwar years. I love the comics that take place after the cartoon series, but I'm having trouble figuring out how much to keep the same, and how much would/should be different. I would greatly appreciate feedback about this chapter's content arrangement, as well as the new version of the beginning.


"Adjustments"

Ay, springes to catch woodcocks. I do know,
When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul
Lends the tongue vows. These blazes, daughter,
Giving more light than heat, extinct in both
Even in their promise as it is a-making,
You must not take for fire.

~ William Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act I, scene iii


As the weeks went by, all the members of Team Avatar found that the best way to avoid missing each other was to keep as busy as possible.

Of the six of them, Katara was the only one who found herself facing an uncomfortable amount of free time. Her official role and reason for her presence in Fire Lord Zuko's court was an ambassador of the Water Tribe, a representative and honored guest, but still an outsider, with real no authority in the Fire Nation. She could not accompany Zuko in all his work activities, and, truth be told, even if she could, he needed space to focus and make decisions. So she looked for other ways to help out and fill up her time.

She alternated between blue and red outfits, depending partly on where she spent each day. Her Water Tribe outfit marked her as an ambassador and waterbending master, which was fine when she was in the palace and people accepted her presence; but her Fire Nation clothes helped her blend into the streets of the capital, which felt a bit safer since there were still probably people upset about losing the war to the other nations. Not that she could not take on anyone who tried to pick a fight, but it was easier to go about without being ridiculed or attacked.

Katara took it upon herself to restore the palace gardens. She combed the palace library and found some books about plants. She researched and made lists of which plants could grow during the dry and rainy seasons. Once she figured out what, where, and when to plant, she went shopping to find the right seeds and tools.

Exploring the city reminded Katara of shopping with her family, only now she did not have to obtain everything they needed to survive. She could take her time and look at everything, instead of getting items as quickly as possible.

Zuko was about as busy as he had expected to be. Every day he had to meet politicians, consult with advisers, and correspond with people too far away to meet. He saw Katara at meals and tried to set aside time that they could spend together. When he was free, they played Pai Sho, fed the turtle-ducks, meditated, or sparred.

Zuko ordered the installation of wooden tubs of water in the training rooms for Katara's use. She made a point of practicing waterbending at least every other day. Zuko exercised less frequently, as he simply did not have enough time, and for the first time in years he did not feel as though his short-term or long-term success depended on his fighting abilities.

The lack of practice made him rusty at the start of each sparring session, much to Katara's amusement. She did not go easy on him, but she was kind enough to spare him from too humiliating a defeat, like freezing him against a wall. It was satisfying enough to pin him to the ground and steal a kiss. Then he would rally himself, gather his wits, and win the rematch, stealing a kiss in return. These gestures of affection were becoming rarer, as they had agreed not to make a show of their relationship to other people who inhabited or visited the palace.

Over time Katara figured out that there was a hierarchy among the servants, who specialized in such fields as food preparation, laundry, sewing, and cleaning. She was startled the first time she came into her quarters and found three maids tidying her bedroom and bathroom. They were even more startled when she said she could wash her own clothes. One seemed shocked, another indignant, a third uncertain. "But you are a guest!"

Katara wanted to argue, because she did lots of chores at home, and she was hoping this would be her permanent home—but no one needed to know that. Instead she said, "I don't have many responsibilities here. If I don't have my own chores, I don't know what I'll do with myself."

She tried to learn the servants' names and ranks, knowing she would be living at the palace indefinitely. There was some confusion among them about how they addressed her. Was her honorific Lady, Miss, or Ambassador? If she was a master of waterbending, should they call her Mistress, as the female equivalent to Master? Katara blushed at the word and settled for the gender-neutral title of Master.

After a couple weeks Katara had an idea, and made up her mind to go to the kitchens. The head cook, a woman named Anadem, saw her and put down her knife and the vegetable she was chopping in order to bow. "Master Katara. Can we help you?"

"I have a sort of request—or, I guess a suggestion, really. I'd like to have Water Tribe food again. If we could get the ingredients—or even just similar ingredients—then I could show you how to make it."

She accompanied two servants to the market, so they could show her what was available and she could discern what was most suitable for Water Tribe dishes. She was familiar with most Fire Nation foodstuffs after her months of traveling there, but the servants knew how to prepare proper meals with them. They knew recipes for traditional Fire Nation dishes that Katara had never even heard of.

The cooperation of preparing food together fostereda sense of mutuality. Katara learned the servants' names, though she was slow to ask them any personal questions, knowing that they would be shy to answer. Questions and comments between them were relevant, helpful. "Is this the right size?" "That looks fine." "Nicely done." When she began, though, they started to ask her questions in return.

"Did you have to hunt for food yourself?"

"I went fishing, and sometimes I helped my brother set traps, but it was the adult men who caught really big animals. Their hunting trips could last days."

"How barbaric," one girl named Inkatha muttered.

It took all of Katara's restraint not to retort, Excuse me, whose people wiped out a civilization and nearly destroyed my home? But the girl did not know what she knew, or even if she did, she could not appreciate it as much as someone who had seen firsthand what the war had done.

A young woman named Avanti looked at Katara shyly for a long while before she ventured, "Is it true you defeated Azula yourself?"

"Yes," Katara answered.

Avanti looked at her in awe. Katara tried not to smile. She supposed she had a right to be proud; winning that battle had to be one of her greatest accomplishments in her life.

After breaking the proverbial ice, Avanti started to talk more freely as she kneaded her dough. "The day of her coronation, some other girls and I were helping her prepare. I brought her a bowl of cherries. She turned on me because I'd left the pits in them."

Katara was bewildered. "What were you supposed to do? Cut them out for her?"

"I don't know. She made it sound like I'd attempted to murder her. But she said she'd show mercy since it was such a special day. Then she banished me."

Katara shook her head sadly. "I'll never understand that girl." There was a silence after she said that, and when she looked up, she saw the other cooks looked uneasy or uncomfortable. "Did I say something?"

"No, it's just … we weren't allowed to say anything bad about the Royal Family. It's strange being able to do that now."

"By the same token," Anadem put in, "we couldn't say anything good about disgraced family members, like Princess Ursa or General Iroh."

"Well, now you can say anything good or bad about any of them."

After that, she began to hear more of the gossip that servants indulged in when their superiors were absent. She took that as a sign that they saw her as more on their level, or at least trusted her. Not that they said anything very bad—they seemed to respect Zuko—but they were freer about discussing people. They remembered eccentric nobles who had visited in the past, and told stories of scandals that made the death of Azulon and disappearance of Ursa look tame. The younger women compared the guards Sokka and Mai had hired, several of whom were quite good-looking. Katara looked to the servants for help in learning the guards' names, since she came into contact with them less frequently. She felt less inclined to extend a hand of friendship toward them, knowing many of them would have fought her and Zuko a few short months ago.


The idea first occurred to Aang in the weeks after Sozin's Comet, but he did not bring it up until he, Suki, Sokka, and Toph journeyed back to the Earth Kingdom. After dropping off Zuko and Katara, their next order of business was to drop off Suki at Kyoshi Island, after which the remaining three would begin the Harmony Restoration Movement.

Aang brought it up while Sokka and Suki were plotting their route on a map. "Hey, Toph … I'll understand if you say no, but I'm just throwing it out there …"

"What?"

"Do you remember everything you told you parents, in the letter we sent them?"

"Yeah."

"Like how you said you might visit when the war was over?"

"… Yeah."

"Well, Kyoshi Island is pretty close to Gaoling. Would you want to visit?"

Sokka looked up in surprise, and glanced apprehensively at Toph. She was silent; no emotion was visible behind her bangs. Suki asked blankly, "What's in Gaoling?"

"It's my hometown," Toph answered.

"You have family there?"

"Yeah … the family I ran away from."

"Oh. … I didn't realize … the play didn't mention that."

"Of course not; they wouldn't want other little girls from rich families to run away and become heroes."

There was a moment of pregnant silence, until Aang spoke again. "So … what do you think?"

"I did imply that I'd visit," Toph considered reluctantly. Then she brightened and said, "I can show you the badger-moles."

"If you're ever going to visit the place," Sokka said, examining the map, "it would make most sense to do it when we pass by."

Suki and the boys looked to Toph, waiting for her say-so. "Okay," she said finally. "I'm probably gonna regret it, but I won't know until I try."

Aang smiled. Sokka looked between the two of them. "Are you … gonna tell your parents about you and Aang?" he asked Toph.

"What is there to tell?"

Her careless tone surprised the others. Sokka felt uncomfortable having to articulate his point. "Well … you're not just a teacher or traveling companion … you're …"

"I'm pretty sure the word is 'dating,'" Suki supplied.

Toph smiled coyly and put a hand on her hip. "Is that what we're doing? Last I checked, we've never been on an actual 'date'."

"What do you call it, then?" Aang asked. "'Courting'?"

"Too old-fashioned."

"'In love'?"

"Too strong."

Aang blinked, a little hurt, but tried to turn it into a joke. "I thought strong was something you liked to be?"

Toph punched him lightly on the arm. "Aang. You know I'm just messing with you, right?"

She could not see the mixture of emotions that crossed his face before he forced a laugh. "Ha. 'Course."

Sokka rolled his eyes and brought them back to his original question. "So … now that you've established you are dating … are you gonna tell them?"

Aang scratched his head. "D'you think we should?"

Sokka shrugged. "It doesn't really matter—if they don't approve, they can't stop you from being together—but telling them about it outright might make a better impression than keeping it secret. It makes you look honorable. Which you'll have to work on, since the way Toph left with us wasn't all that honorable."


Toph was not the type of person to get anxious, but along the way she kept thinking of obstacles that they might have to contend with.

"What if they moved? What if the Fire Nation attacked Gaoling at some point?"

While Aang and even Suki tried to reassure her with words of hope and encouragement, it was Sokka who provided a clinical, logical perspective. "You'd still have to go there to find out on way or another. If they aren't there, we can ask around and look for them around the Earth Kingdom."

"What if they never even got the letter? We never figured out whether Hawky could follow directions."

Sokka shrugged. "So what? It won't be the end of the world."

Suki gave a little chortle. When the boys looked at her, she explained, "It's just that, we're some of the people who helped prevent the end of the world, so we actually know what we're talking about when we say that."

Toph wanted to see her old teachers before visiting her parents. If things went badly with the latter party, forcing them to leave quickly and covertly once more, she might not have another chance to see the former party. Sokka and Suki agreed to wait with Appa just outside of Gaoling, while Toph and Aang entered the city underground.

As Aang petted Appa and Momo good-bye, Toph reminded him, "You can't light your way with fire, because that could scare the badger-moles. You can only use earthbending to see. Can you handle that?"

"Sure I can."

"For hours at a time?"

It would be a challenge, but Aang assented. "Yes. I can do it."

Toph opened a hole in the earth, a few meters deep, and wide enough for the two of them to enter together. Aang turned back to wave to Sokka and Suki before following Toph, using airbending to soften his landing. He lit a fire as she closed the ground above them, but only held it long enough to grasp her hand in his free one.

"You should be able to sense vibrations enough to know your way."

"I'm not looking for guidance," Aang said frankly, with just a touch of embarrassment. "I just wanted to hold your hand." It was ironic, in a way: she was more dependent on her sense of touch than most people, and yet she didn't always know how to interpret different forms of physical contact.

Toph smirked, and was tempted to tease him for being sappy, but instead pointed out: "We need our hands free to earthbend."

"Oh. Right. … Sorry."

She kissed his cheek before lengthening the tunnel before them. "Come on."

They walked and bent steadily for about fifteen minutes before Toph held out her arm to stop Aang. Then she knelt down and pressed a hand against the dirt. She spoke over her shoulder, "Can you feel that?"

"What?"

"The badger-moles!"

"No."

"They're coming this way."

Another minute passed before Aang sensed the tremors, which quickly grew in intensity as the badger-moles approached. They both felt the earth around them moving, until finally, the walls of their tunnel were pushed aside, widening and shifting. Three giant mammals came into the open air; the young teenagers could smell their fur and wet breath.

"There you are!" Toph said, immensely pleased. She stepped up to them, felt their snouts, sniffed them, and let them sniff at her. She murmured to them, more softly and affectionately than Aang had heard her speak before. "I brought a friend. He's my student, like I was yours. Go one and say hi." She turned around toward him, and spoke in a more conversational tone. "Aang, meet my my old teachers."

Aang wondered if he should bow, as was proper etiquette for wise, powerful animal teachers, like dragons and lion-turtles. But then the badger-mole came up and sniffed him. He was not put off when it licked him, since Appa had done the same thing more times than he could count.

"Do they have names?" he asked Toph.

"Not really. They're not mine to name. I just know who they are."

"So, which way to town?"

"Don't tell me you're lost already."

"No, I just know your sense of direction is better than mine."

Toph laughed. "Nice save."

The badger-moles followed them for most of the remaining distance.

"We're under the gardens," Toph said. "There aren't as many people as there used to be. I guess without me around they don't need as many guards."

She opened up a new tunnel above them, finally breaking to the surface. Aang covered his eyes from the sun. "Just give me a minute—I need to adjust to the brightness."

As she waited, Toph sniffed the air, recognizing the scents: the fertilizer, the grass, the autumnal flowers that were now in bloom.

"Are you ready?" she asked Aang.

"I think so. Are you?"

She shrugged. "As ready as I'll ever be."


Poppy Bei Fong's bedroom was decorated with the flower for which she was named. She was framing some pressed poppies when a servant arrived at the door, panting and bewildered.

"My lady, it's—your daughter."

Poppy looked up, wide-eyed, not daring to hope.

"She has returned."

For a moment everything was surreal, dream-like. If Poppy were not already sitting, she might have fainted on the spot.

She had known it was a possibility, ever since receiving that letter in the summer, but the suggestion had been so vague, uncommitted, not promising anything—and for months she had worried that Toph might not even survive the war. Even after the Earth Kingdom soldiers returned home and announced the news of the war's end, there had been no word from her.

Poppy gathered her skirts and stood. The servant just managed to say, "The Avatar is with her," before she ran past him as fast as her nonathletic legs could carry her.

She stopped at the threshold of the foyer. Two people—a bit too old to be children, yet far too young to be adults—stood in the room, their colorful clothes covered with dirt. The boy seemed to be reassuring the girl, his hand on her shoulder, until she entered; then they stepped apart.

Toph was taller than Poppy remembered. The Avatar looked different, too: he was dressed like a monk, not a mere novice as she had last seen him. He looked at her apprehensively, but remembered his manners and bowed. She knew Toph must have sensed her footsteps, but the blind girl was slow in turning toward her.

"Mom?" Toph's voice shook.

Poppy stared at their daughter. Now, more than ever before, she seemed like a stranger. She had hidden her true self, and she had been through so much since she ran away. "Toph …" Poppy trailed off.

Toph broke into a run, and her mother knelt down to catch her in a hug. Poppy shuddered, tears streaming down her face, ruining her makeup.

Toph felt overwhelmed as she re-experienced so many sensations she had forgotten: the smell of her mother's perfume, the softness of her robes, the shape of her body. When was the last time her mother had hugged her, even before she left? Physical contact was not something the adult Bei Fongs indulged in often.

Poppy pulled away enough to look at Toph, pushing her bangs back to examine her face. She was glad to see Toph did not look malnourished. She looked as healthy as could be—perhaps healthier than Poppy had ever seen her. At the moment, her cheeks were wet with tears too. "You came back."

"Yeah." Toph's voice was thick, and her mouth wobbled as she tried to smile. "Sorry it took so long." She wiped her eyes with the back of her fist and cleared her throat. When she spoke again, her tone was curious. "Where's Dad?"

Toph could not see her mother's reaction, but Aang noticed the pain that flooded the lady's facial features. Poppy bowed her head, grieved and ashamed. "He's … he's not here, anymore."

"Why? What happened?" Toph's voice came out sharp, demanding and slightly dismayed.

"He's all right," Poppy reassured her. "He's in one of the colonies … looking at a business opportunity."

"Oh."

"There is someone else you may remember." Poppy led her through a few corridors and into the courtyard. Then she made a sound that Toph had not heard her make before: she whistled. There was a flap of wings, and a moment later a familiar screech.

"No way!" Toph hooted. "You kept Hawky?"

"He wouldn't leave, and I couldn't bring myself to sell him." The creature and the message it carried had been Toph's only gifts to her parents.

"Sokka'll be pleased—he really liked that bird."

"I was confused when he came. Your letter only mentioned places in the Earth Kingdom, but hawks like these are only used by the Fire Nation."

"That's where we were at the time," Toph said, "but I couldn't say so. No one was supposed to know where we were, or that Aang was alive."

"You were in the Fire Nation?"

"Yeah, almost all summer."

"What did you do there?"

"Well, we tried to invade the capital, but that didn't work out, so we stayed in hiding until Sozin's Comet. While Aang fought the Fire Lord, I helped stopped an airship fleet that was going to burn down the Earth Kingdom. Then we went back and forth a couple times between the Fire Nation and Ba Sing Se, to help the Earth King and the new Fire Lord set up their governments."

Poppy could only listen and look at her in amazement. When Toph seemed to have finished, she asked helplessly, "How did you do it?"

Toph shrugged, as though all their deeds were completely credible, even normal. "Hard fighting. Hard work. Teamwork."

"I can't imagine it."

Toph was silent for a moment, but then said, "That might be a good thing." She was pretty certain her mother could not have handled half of the things she had—dismantling destructive machinery, leaving allies to die or be captured, spending a day in a cage, waiting see if a friend would live or die.

Poppy gestured to a stone bench. "Will you sit? I think we both have much to tell."

"Yeah. You're probably right."

Aang spoke up tentatively. "Do you want me to come back, later? Or—"

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea," Toph said. "Come back before nighttime."

Aang nodded, and bowed to Poppy before following a servant back to the door. Another brought tea for them, and a platter of food. Poppy watched as Toph ate—she did not use her manners, but neither did she act as though she were starving.

"Mom, there's something you should know about me."

Considering all the secrets kept and revelations made in the past, those words did not bode well. "What is it?"

"I can tell when people are lying. I can feel their heart rate and breathing and shaking—all those vibrations travel through the earth. And when I asked about Dad, you weren't sure how to answer. I think you told the truth, but not all of it; or you thought about lying."

There was a long moment of silence between them. Toph did not press her mother for an answer, but she did not change the subject either. Finally Poppy took a deep breath and said, "Your father and I … are not together anymore."

"Well, I can see that. But why?"

"It's … a euphemism, I suppose. Do you … know what a divorce is?"

"… Um, yeah."

"They aren't really the thing to do … they're a legal and financial mess, and socially frowned upon … but we agreed not to live together anymore."

"Why?" When Poppy did not answer, Toph thou had a troubling thought. "Was it because of me?"

"No, it … it was my wish, but … well, your leaving did … but it was his fault, really … oh, I can't …" Poppy started to cry again. A few minutes ago she shed tears of joy, but now her tears were full of sorrow, regret, and shame. She withdrew a handkerchief from her sleeve, dabbed her eyes and blew her nose.

Toph stood waiting for her mother to calm down, not knowing what to think or do. She was not good at offering comfort, and she did not fully understand the situation. "Did he leave before or after you got my letter?"

"After. He still hasn't seen it—I don't know where he is from one day to the next."

"I'm sorry this happened." Toph hesitated. "Can you tell me more, or would it be too hard to talk about?"

Poppy wrung her handkerchief as she spoke. "Do you want to know the truth, Toph? All of it? I'm afraid it might upset you—"

"If it does, I won't take it out on you."

"I'm not afraid of your reaction to me, just—that it might hurt you."

Toph folded her arms, disgruntled. "See, even now, you don't give me credit for being so strong."

"I don't doubt—"

"Just tell me. I can take it."

Poppy sank into her chair, defeated. As she spoke, her eyes flickered between her daughter and her hands clasped on her lap.

"When we first realized that you were blind, we sought out specialized teachers—anyone who could help you. We even visited an asylum—they called it a hospital, but it was more like a prison for … people affected by disabilities. Children, adults, elderly … Toph, some of the people there were half-mad, or acted like it. Those who had grown up there couldn't function, never having learned how to behave, or communicate, or take care of themselves. And the benders …" For a moment Poppy broke off, too overcome to describe it; but Toph nudged her gently.

"Go on. What about the benders?"

"They kept earthbenders in rooms made of metal and wood. If they were taken outside, they had to be kept in clothes like straightjackets—restraining their arms and legs. There was no way we could subject you to that. So we decided to keep you at home."

"Okay. That's fair. But why'd you keep me a secret from the world?"

"You weren't right away. Our friends and relatives and neighbors knew when I was expecting. But when you were born, half of them said you'd have to live in an asylum, while the other half said you ought to learn how to live like anyone else. Neither of those options seemed feasible to us."

"You could've asked me, when I was older."

"How much older? Four? Seven? Ten? Imagine, if you can, that you were a parent. How can you ask a child how they want to be raised?" Toph didn't answer. Poppy went on: "You can't, really. You have to decide from the beginning, and do the best you can."

The words came out before Toph could stop them: "But whenever I complained, or asked why I had to do what you and Dad said, or told you what I wanted, you shut me down."

The words hung in the air like a rain cloud about to burst. Toph wondered if she would make her mother cry again; but Poppy spoke again, albeit in a voice slightly thickened by tears. "I followed your father's lead … and I did want you to be a respectable lady, should …"

"'Should'?"

"Toph, you won't like this."

"I'll try my best not to get mad."

"We didn't think you would be able to provide for yourself after we die. Of course, our wealth would be yours, but you wouldn't be able to handle funds—anyone could trick you into signing money over to them. We hoped that, eventually, we could find a husband to provide for you. So I tried to teach you all the social graces noble girls are supposed to know, even though you never saw anyone outside of the house."

"Wow." Toph was not sure whether this surprised her.

"I blamed your father for all the mistakes we made … especially that last night, when he said you couldn't have any more freedom. At the moment, I agreed with him, but after you left I realized there were other alternatives—you could have trained Avatar Aang here, at home. Then all this heartache could have been avoided."

Toph tried to measure her words this time; she wanted to say what she really felt, but she didn't want to make Poppy feel worse. "No offense, Mom, but for me the heartache started long before I left. I don't mean to sound ungrateful—you guys gave me everything—except what I really wanted."

"Freedom?"

"Well, yeah, but also just … friends. Love, I guess. I mean, I know … I was lonely. Sure, you and Dad were there, but we never talked about anything serious, and I wasn't allowed to do anything with you. I left because Aang and Katara and Sokka were my first real friends."

"Can you forgive me? For not listening to you?" Before Toph could answer, Poppy went on miserably, "The whole time we wanted to do what was best for you … believing we knew what you needed … and we never stopped to ask what you wanted. I can see that we were both wrong about you, and wrong to do treat you that way. I'm truly sorry."

"Well … if I ever have kids, I'll probably know the feeling. So yeah, I think I can forgive you." She hesitated. "Do you forgive me? I can't remember if I apologized, in the letter—"

"You did. Not for leaving, but for hurting us. I accept your apology."

Toph smiled—a beautiful sight—and extended a hand. Poppy accepted it, disregarding the dirt, but instead of shaking in agreement, she held it in both of her hands. "Toph, now that you're back here, I have to ask—are you here to stay? And if not—what do you plan to do with yourself?" Her tone fluctuated between ineffable hope and mystified concern.

Toph rubbed the back of her head, not sure how to break her mother's expectations gently. "Well … I kind of promised Aang that I'd stay with him after the war ends. He's supposed to get rid of the Fire Nation colonies in the Earth Kingdom, so Sokka and I are helping him make those arrangements. It's kind of boring, actually, but …" This was the part Toph had dreaded having to explain. She searched her vocabulary for the right words. "Aang and I … well, we started out with me being his earthbending teacher. We got really close, training and traveling together. We got to be really good friends—best friends—and then … well, we … we're more than just friends, now."

"Toph? What are you saying?"

"You don't have to get all protective—it's not super serious—I mean, it is, to us, but in a casual way—I can't explain it right—"

"Are you saying—"

"We're dating. Or courting. Whatever you'd call it if we were normal kids … falling in love and all that." Her last words were little more than a mumble.

"In love?" Poppy repeated.

Toph had never felt so awkward or embarrassed in her life. She didn't usually care what people thought of her choices, but she wanted her parents to have a good opinion of Aang—and, speaking truly, of her as well.

"It's not some stupid crush, but it's not like we're engaged or anything. We just wanna be together." She paused, and then ventured, "Is that okay with you?"

"Well, we did hope that you would have a good match—and you can't find anyone much better than the Avatar—but you're so young, Toph …"

"Mom, I'm thirteen, and I've done more things than a lot of people do in a lifetime. Aang and I liked each other for a long time before either of us admitted it."

Poppy was silent for a long moment. Toph wondered what she could possibly be thinking. Finally her mother spoke. "Well, Toph … we never did talk much about men and marriage …"

Toph blushed and wanted to snort at the thought of Aang as a man. But then again, he wasn't just a kid anymore; he was growing up.

"… but if you're going to be dating anyone—and if you're committing yourself to travel with this boy—I think I'd better tell you more, just so you're aware of what the future might hold. Then I'll feel confident giving my blessing."

They moved indoors, into Poppy's room, and talked late into the afternoon. Poppy was a little surprised to find that Toph was not entirely ignorant about the topics they discussed; Katara had been a confidante during their travels. Still, she was rather taken aback by some facts and concepts. At one point Toph found herself incredulously laughing and crying at the same time.

"Aang will probably be back soon," Toph said. She was sitting on the bed and could feel the slanted sunlight coming in through the window as the sun dropped lower in the sky.

"Do you have to go right away?" Poppy inquired, her stifled hope audible in her voice.

"Yeah. We're giving a friend a ride home, and then we have to start the Harmony Restoration Movement." After a pause, Toph ventured to ask, "Will you be okay?" She did not want to stay, but she had not counted on either of her parents being alone.

"I'll be much better knowing that you're happy, and safer than during the war." Poppy paused. "But I want you to promise me something."

"What?"

"Promise me you won't give yourself to any man you aren't married to."

The topic made Toph blush, but the generality made her frown in annoyance. "You mean, even when I'm older? Even if I want—"

"Toph, this is the only thing I'll ask of you—and I really don't think it's much, in light of all I'm allowing you to do."

Toph huffed, blowing her bangs outward. It was not the terms themselves so much as the fact that a restriction was being placed upon her. But it was contingent on her own willingness to make the promise, which, she supposed, was different from an outright prohibition. So she relented. "Fine. I promise."

"I'm placing my trust in you, Toph, and in the Avatar. Please, don't break it."

"I won't." She meant it, feeling as though a new weight were being placed on her, like jewelry handing down from her head and wrists and ankles. It was different from the trust (if it could be called such) that her parents had placed in her before she left. At that time, they had been ignorant of her capabilities and activities. Now Poppy knew what she was doing, and was choosing not to stand in her way.

The butler came to the bedroom door. "My ladies, the Avatar has returned with his compaions and requests to see you both."

"Of course." Mother and daughter rose together and went back to the entrance hall, where Aang stood waiting for them.

"Avatar Aang." Poppy bowed her head respectfully. "I heard what you did for the world … and for Toph. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Aang said humbly, bowing his head in return. He looked to Toph. "How was your day?"

"All things considered, it was pretty good."

Poppy could see hope and genuine happiness in the Avatar's eyes when he said, "That's great!"

"Toph has my permission to travel." Poppy looked between the two of them. "Just … send me word, now and then, that you're all right."

"Of course," Aang promised, and nudged Toph.

She nodded. "Sure thing."

"Thank you. Will you stay for dinner? And I have some things you can take with you."

They shared one more meal with Poppy, and accepted some food and money she pressed upon them.

"Thank you for everything, Mrs. Bei Fong," Aang said gratefully. "We go in peace."

Poppy nodded, and then lowered her voice to speak with him. "Please take care of her … as much as she'll let you."

"Always." He stepped away to let the two Bei Fong women say goodbye.

Toph spoke first. "If you see Dad … show him the letter."

"I will. But in all likelihood, you may see him before I. If you do … please don't judge him too harshly."

Toph smiled wryly. "I'll try."

Poppy pulled her daughter close for a last hug. "I love you, Toph." Neither of them was sure when she had last said those words. Toph could feel the sincerity in the vibrations from the earth and through the expensive silk her mother wore.

"I love you, too, Mom."

When they parted, Poppy pressed a kiss to Toph's forehead. "Be safe."

"Don't worry about us."

"I'll try. I'll be waving as you leave."

They waited until they were outside of the estate before opening Aang's glider to fly back to the camp, since seeing Toph ride that contraption might have made Poppy doubt her decision.


Author's Note: I was going to include more politics and conflict for Zuko and Katara, but I decided to put it off until the next chapter, since Toph's arc provides a fair amount of drama.

Disclaimer: I got the idea for the line "I'll be waving as you leave" from an episode of Little House on the Prairie entitled "I'll Be Waving As You Drive Away." That scene also featured blind people saying good-bye.