These Wars We Live

Full Summary: A deeper insight into the pasts of Katara, Sokka, Toph, Zuko, Azula, and Aang; all through the view of the most unlikely characters. Questions will be answered as new questions arise. Can be read in any order. Rated "T" for scenes and themes.

Author's Note: Finally! Book Two! Let me tell you guys, I'm really pumped for this!

However…

I do want to point out that the girl you will soon be reading about is in fact Toph's soon-to-be mother so please pay close attention.

And, again, if you are reading this, I'm happy for you, but you MUST review. If I get any less reviews then I'm getting now, I will shut down the story. I have no reason to write if no one is reading, correct?

Another note: There's a lot in this chappie about "the evil eye", the prelude to bad things happening because of jealousy. I don't know where this idea originated, but I know it's huge in the east. You'll learn more about the concept soon.

And again with the east: In Arabic, "living between four walls" means that a person doesn't get out much. I'm pretty sure you could've figured that out, but just in case you couldn't, there you go.

So then, happy readings!

Flying on a magical bison,

ScorpioRed112

Book Two: Earth

Chapter 1: Between Four Walls

Poppy was a beautiful girl, both in spirit and in body.

Quite truthfully she never thought about it much. She was raised in a middle-class family with three older brothers, who roughened her up so much that she became much like them—in both appearance and attitude. She didn't help her mother or spend time with her, and her parents detested this.

"So wild!" Her mother would tell the family friends. "Like those retched Firebenders!" Poppy could never understand how her mother could so easily compare her to something so horrible. She knew she was forceful on the outside, but inside she was hurt by her mother's unkind words.

"Yes, your daughter's a work of art," their friends would reply sorrowfully, nodding. They would go on to explain their own daughters, "pious" girls who did housework and kissed boys behind their parents' backs. They would describe their daughters and precious pearls, beautiful, and wondrous. Poppy knew that her mother's friends thought of her as a boy more than a girl, but she couldn't care less. All that mattered was where her brothers were going to go next, and whether they would take her with them.

But they left, and they couldn't take her, to fight those retched Firebenders.

By the time Poppy was 12, she knew nothing of being proper and nothing of good manners. Her mother left her home when she went to do her errands, perhaps afraid of embarrassment. At home Poppy would regret not going to the war front with her brothers. She was lonely—living between four walls. What more, she would constantly mourn the loss of her siblings every day since their departure.

Since her brother's left Poppy saw no reason to cut her hair short, and so it grew out silky and long. She saw no reason to wear their hand-me-downs, and so she kept them merely as precious trinkets, memories of her beloved siblings.

Being alone and helping her mother out of boredom, Poppy learned to behave herself. She also learned of the importance of social status. She learned, though almost forcefully, that she was her parents' daughter. And, knowing this, she needed to act as such.

Her parents grew proud of their daughter's turn-around, and displayed her prominently. Poppy's soft green eyes, silky hair, and kind nature made her an excellent model.

"I don't do anything around the house, Poppy does it all!" her mother would beam proudly, pointing to a silent Poppy. "Poppy dear, go bring us some tea."

"Yes," her audience would reply enviously. "Your daughter's a work of art." They turned green with jealousy as they eyed Poppy, from head to foot, as she walked by with a tray of tea. They fixed their gazes on Poppy's soft green irises, flawless jade orbs that were set perfectly in Poppy's face.

They scolded their own daughters for not being as perfect, as wondrous, as beautiful, as Poppy. They found out about their daughters' love affairs, too.

Lao Bai Fong saw Poppy on her way to the market. He spotted her from under his ostrich-horse drawn chariot, a beautiful girl with perfect curves and perfect beauty. He found out where she lived and went immediately to ask for her hand in marriage.

"We barely know you," Poppy's parents stated firmly. They were proud that their only daughter had gained so many suitors, but they knew that all suitors only wanted Poppy because of her splendor, a vacant reason for marriage.

"Give me a chance," Lao told them, smiling kindly to Poppy from the doorway. "I know your daughter has a gentle spirit…please, just give me a chance."

"How?" Poppy's father asked him. "We don't know you."

"But you will," Lao assured. "Let me run errands for you around the house, let me invite you to my village for dinner…let me do anything, anything at all to prove to you that I am worthy of your wondrous daughter."

Lao followed Poppy around like a baby duckling does to his mother. He spoke to her—kind, gentle words. He helped her with her errands, escorted her to the market, and showered her with gifts. The silent, quiet girl that Poppy had become since the loss of her brothers made way for Lao, and she grew to love him dearly.

At their wedding Poppy kept her gaze fixed on the ground. The family friends that had known her since childhood stared at her from their seats.

"Aren't you excited, darling?" Lao asked her.

"More than you know," she replied, looking up. "I'm just…not a good model, that's all."

"No one is asking you to model," Lao whispered gently, moving a strand of Poppy's thick hair out of her face. "I don't want you to do anything that you don't want to do."

Poppy smiled kindly at him, but even his words could not ease her upset stomach.

Poppy felt more eyes fixate on her when she and Lao gave their blessings to the young girls yet to be married, all of the daughters of the family friends. "What beautiful eyes you have, Poppy," her mother's friends told her. She couldn't help but blush when they wouldn't stop staring.

Poppy's beauty faded with her first pregnancy. Her first daughter, Toph, seemed to suck all of the beauty and youth from her mother. Poppy spent a lot of time alone, away from her husband and from her family. She worried herself with nurturing her body, just to make sure that the child would be born healthy and strong.

But when news arrived that all of Poppy's brothers had died in the front, Poppy forgot her pregnancy and forgot the world. She lay in her bed motionless, mumbling promises of her brothers' return.

"They said they'd come back…I loved them so dearly…they said they'd come back…they said they'd never leave." Almost responsively to the war, Poppy made Lao promise that they would have only one child, the forgotten daughter left in Poppy's womb. "I want to make sure my daughter never feels the pain I have felt," Poppy told Lao. "She will never feel any pain."

When Toph was born blind, Poppy became suicidal. "Why was I cursed? What did I do?" Lao also nearly went crazy. Once, after Toph's birth, Poppy spotted her husband crying uncontrollably in their large garden. It was difficult for both parents.

"We can't go on like this," Lao told Poppy seven days after Toph's birth. "We have to do something."

"What is there to do? Our daughter will never see beauty, never know light…we can do nothing."

"Lies!" Leo exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at his wife. "Lies, lies, lies! All you say are lies! Our daughter will live the best life! We will protect her with our blood! I don't care what she sees—she will be safe! Isn't that all that matters?"

Poppy was silent, holding her blind daughter close to her.

"I promise you, Toph will be protected. I don't care if she's blind and deaf and mute…she will be protected. No matter what!" Lao sat down. "She'll be protected…I don't care if I have to hire the whole damn Earth Kingdom Army. She'll be protected."

"You can't keep her locked up forever," Poppy shot back bitterly. "She'll have to explore. She'll be child soon, Lao! You can't just say 'oh, I'll protect her,' and solve the problem. These things don't just work like this, Lao! They just don't!"

"You're right, dearest," Lao replied sarcastically. "Let's just cry about them until they get better!" His arms flung wildly into the air. "It's much more efficient your way. At least I'm actually trying!"

"Bastard!" Poppy was crying now, full tears that crept from her pale eyes down even paler cheeks. "Bastard! I'm being realistic! You know nothing of being raised between four walls! She'll go crazy!" Before Lao could reply Poppy stormed out of the bedroom, carrying a silent Toph with her.

Of course, it was inevitable. Toph could not be raised like normal children. What worse, she could not be raised like normal, rich children. She would have to be raised differently—carefully, cautiously, and guardedly. As much as Poppy hated to do it, her daughter would have to be raised like her—between four walls.