Do forgive me if this chapter is boring, but I thought I might as well focus on the present, matured characteristics of the GAang before indulging in various fluff…
Katara couldn't help but feel surprised at how deeply motherhood had marked Toph. The tender touch upon her child, the gentle whispers that came from tender lips, the soft kisses planted upon a tiny head – all of it was rather shocking, but then again, Time changes things without consent. And so as the two women strolled along the various tiled hallways, the long absence and personalities making conversation near impossible, Katara noticed such things all the more. It filled her with a sharp, irrepressible feeling; either sorrow at the loss of the young, rough Toph, or happiness that her companion's life was chugging along on such an easy path. Such thoughts she voiced, only to be taken aback by a mature response.
"These years past have been about as easy for my knucklehead of a husband and me as they have been for you. I just had to tell myself that trouble is nothing new – it didn't work too well, but it made me realize how much I've grown. It's…weird."
"Yeah," responded a dumbfounded Katara.
And, as if concluding the conversation, little Jian began to coo and fidget within the confines of his mother's arms. Tiny, white fingers were captured in a slender, tanned grasp and with that Katara decided to abandon those thoughts – for now. But a look at Toph's foggy eyes seemed to press the subject all the more painfully into her. The young mother attempted to chase it away with a small shake of the head, but in vain, for tears soon found their place in the company of blindness.
"What's wrong, Toph?" questioned Katara in a motherly voice.
Fortunately, the earthbender was willing to take solace in an almost-too-comforting friend and let loose with a display of silent, bitter tears that dampened the head of her infant.
"Like I said, things haven't been easy. Not for you, for me, or for the world." Words turned scornful. "I thought this war was over, but no, it's still pulling those we love away. Don't we ever get a brake?"
The baby was let down to investigate the narrow hallway, permitting a deep breath for Toph. Katara tried to put on her most understanding face, hoping Toph would open up – even if just once. And she did in a few blunt sentences and a question.
"Sokka's leaving again. There's been a minor rebel attack in the South Pole and he's been asked to lead a battalion." A brief pause while she collected herself. "Doesn't he know that we need him?"
"Toph, he's just doing what's right. He fought by you – by all of us – in those happier years past. Now that his heart is fully placed in you and Jian, how easy do you think this is for him?"
Tender words did the slightest bit of good and the solemn walk resumed – though a new emotion painted Toph's eyes…a hue of one who has a secret that enforces a delightful mixture of dread and happiness. Indeed, the precious secret within Toph would enforce a good deal of emotional mixtures; that precious secret, not yet born into the world.
-o-o-o-
Unbeknownst to the young women, Aang and Sokka were sharing a bit of conversation as well, reveling in victories past (though Sokka was the major partaker of this category)
and ambitions for the future. Naturally, the topic that so worried Toph came up.
"So you aren't planning to settle down a bit, Sokka? Not at all?"
The matured warrior, intensely focused on his war spear, glanced up, silently reprimanded by large silver eyes. But this man – about as modest as a young finch-cock – wouldn't let his pride be wounded.
"Well…eventually, I guess – maybe." Eyes fell down once more. "I think Toph's okay with it. And besides, she wants me to be happy, right?"
As often as he could manage, Aang enjoyed playing the 'Avatar/Air nomad' card and sat, fidgeting with his glider, wondering if now wasn't the time to do so.
"You know Sokka, as an observer, this just seems like a quest for vanity. You were the one that said, and I quote, 'thank goodness this bloody war is over!'." At this moment, Aang donned his most serious face. "As a friend, I can't understand why you want to be sucked back into the fighting. And what about your duties to Toph and Jian? Who's to say that your family, little right now, won't grow?"
"Look Aang, I'm not thinking about the future right now. I'm thinking about what needs to be done; right now, this is what I need to do."
"And Toph and Jian?" returned the Avatar in an icy tone.
There came a small sigh on Sokka's part; his entire face seemed absorbed in the problem.
"I guess I was hoping you'd let them stay here while I'm away."
This request, timid and quiet, entirely threw Aang off the course he'd been building – the chance to make Sokka find his mistake. Disappointment ensued, for the wisdom and advice situated on a certain airbender's tongue was of no use any longer.
"You've made up your mind?" he coolly questioned.
There was a slow, painfully executed nod. Sokka laid his spear against the stone rail the guarded the edge of the overlook and motioned to Aang, saying, in excessive exasperation,
"I'm hungry."
-o-o-o-
It was a rather odd thing, losing control of one's eyes. Katara had experienced it before – in those numerous childhood crushes – and somewhat enjoyed it. But now it only summoned panic and confusion, for they were venturing to the head of the humble table, the man she had once considered a boy, the one person who could best her at waterbending of any primitive fashion, the one who she shared so many words of happy and pensive origins.
And then she looked at the other three – man, wife, and child – tickled by the though of bringing their group all the closer by marriage. She savored the prospect of never being separated from those she loved; the thought of always feeling safe, despite its foreign flavor. And in this thought, the object of her eyes dared to return the glance, and sent her furiously cutting her fish. Aang enjoyed these little eye games – happening more and more often since Katara's arrival – and savored the chance to taint his eyes with the emotions he couldn't voice. And so, after a happy toast over their fish, bread, and wine, Aang gently offered his closest companion a walk, offering his arm to the graceful woman clothed in blue.
Katara gave a modest smile, taking his arm and cooing, 'Thank you, my lord Avatar' with teasing delight. The night was calm, the sky softened with wispy fragments of clouds, and the mountain peaks covered in a mist, illuminated with the moon. There was no need for conversation, just an occasional, contented glance in the other's direction. Happiness clothed the two like a woolly blanket and seemed to scare away the thoughts of tomorrow. Katara could feel the want to do something completely out of character – such a phenomenon usually took place when she was at her happiest – and realized that the same feeling existed in Aang when he gently placed his wide hands upon her shoulders.
"Nice to see you," he spoke gently.
The recollection of lessons with a certain bittersweet Master Pakku came to mind; the bland mornings, highlighted with a lovely sunrise and deft flashes of water and ice. She remembered those exact words, voiced at the beginning of their training…Yes, they both remembered (it was as though they could do nothing but remember) and let the happy memory enforce the most grateful of hugs.
"You too," came the muffled reply, half-silenced in the embrace.
-o-o-o-
Until he'd stumbled upon Katara there, Aang had no knowledge of the platform on the western side of the Temple, and found it a comforting, quiet place to think. Considering such, the young Avatar summoned a sleep-ridden Sokka there, ready to chase away his companion's thoughts of going to the South Pole. The fire pit was made alive once more and the two men settled down upon cushions brought from the indoors, enjoying the peace while the others slept. Sokka sensed the purpose of his coming and hastened to change the subject, oblivious to the fact that it would later confirm Aang's feelings.
"I can't believe how much Katara's grown. I mean, last I saw, she was half a foot shorter than me and…young, I guess."
"And she's not now?" Aang chuckled.
"Well, yeah, sure; but she acts so differently. Like any fragment of the young girl she was is gone. She's seen too much Aang – shouldn't have let her go to war. I should've kept her somewhere safe…Kyoshi Island, maybe. The North Pole. Somewhere different…"
A friendly hand was placed upon Sokka's shoulder.
"You did the right thing. I gotta tell you, Sokka, I don't think I've ever seen her so…"
"Happy?"
"No."
"Solemn?"
"Kind of. She's content – I can tell. I think she's finally had her fill of fighting."
"At last!" Sokka muttered, hands clasped with relief. "Well, I think just seeing you has made all the difference, Aang. As her brother, I know. There's a certain look in her eye – a kind of sparkle that comes on when she's excited."
He pointed to an eye, wide open, while the other remained squinted. The effect upon his face was rather comical, but that wasn't what was on Aang's mind.
"Really? I mean, it's good to see her too…it's been a while."
"Let me tell you, if you keep her here, she'll be like this all the time. You should think about that."
Dear Sokka. It's fortunate for him that Aang was gnawing viciously upon his last words and failed to pick up the overly-obvious hint. It's also fortunate that he didn't offer marriage, for Aang would surely have had a betrothal necklace ready before the sun was up. But Sokka was more than ready to quit watching the little things that transpired between the two, even if they hadn't been taking place from the beginning.
"Yeah…I will…" came the hushed reply.
And with that, Aang hurriedly returned to his room – but not after a little detour. If one had observed what had happened in that random little trip, one would label it as 'spying'. But, upon closer look, one would conclude that the purpose of such a vigil was of the purest origins. For it was with the best of intentions that Katara's door was cracked and her tranquil, sleeping form admired by a silver eye. And it was with the best of intentions that Sokka's suggestion was seriously taken into consideration.