Letters from the Falling Sky
Summary: "Katara felt helpless. Aang didn't know he had a daughter." Things more complex than the war had finally torn them apart. In isolation, they take out their brushes, regret the past, and write. Kataang, Tokka. Rated M.
Author's Note: Wow, guys (and girls!). 290 reviews. I'm touched. This is coming from a writer who seriously questions her talent every so often. But your feedback has really meant the world to me. And this story has come such a long way, thanks to your comments and constant input.
In this chapter, Beware the Ides of March!
I just called to say I love you. -scorpiaux
.17.
A small canoe pulled up to the margin of the marsh, against the northern docks in the Southern Water Tribe. A figure emerged and waded uneasily to shore. A second figure stayed in the boat, huddled over, drinking from a small glass.
Once the canoe had been parked appropriately, both figures walked to the middle of the marsh—close enough to one another so that they would be considered together. The night sky was pitch black and illuminated nothing but the glowing pools of spirit water.
A third figure awaited them at the center of the marsh—a plumper build, who was obviously a woman based on her size and shape. She held five scrolls in one hand and a dim lantern in the other.
Then the following conversation took place, although it was too dark to tell who was saying what, and what was happening, and in what order things were unfolding.
"You have the information?"
"Most of it."
"There is another one now?"
"Yes."
"And what happened to the third one?"
"Tell us."
"It's uncompleted."
"Why?"
"Let's leave. I'm cold."
"Wait. Why was it uncompleted?"
"Because something got in the way. It's not important."
A pause—some hesitations.
"Things...got better before they got worse."
"Well now what?"
"Please. I'm cold."
"I said wait. Tell me. What are we supposed to do now?"
There was a thick silence. It enveloped the marsh and the three figures. The shivering figure who was complaining of the temperature, the wide figure who could hardly feel a thing through the layers of fat, and then the only man of the three—a sturdy thing that stood unshaken. All three stood attentive as the plump woman spoke.
"The best thing to do would be to go after this. See where it leads."
"You wouldn't."
"No!" A ringing silence. "I don't like this—it's a bad idea. I want to leave. Come on. Let's go."
"I said wait!" The man took the five scrolls from the plump woman and opened the largest one. Inside there were roughly done sketches. He glanced over them and read the captions briefly.
A smile spread under his nose, as if he recognized something from long ago. And then he nodded and looked up. "The sky falls in pieces," he told the plump woman as he turned to his partner. "But when the world ends, it happens all at once."
The plump woman nodded at him, somewhat shamefaced, and held the lantern up to illuminate the man's face. All three of them looked terror-stricken.
And then the man grabbed the shivering, thin girl to his left, and they walked soundlessly to the canoe.
Katara was feeling more light-headed than usual.
When sunrise poured through her window, she was already awake and clean—hair tidy, face washed, teeth brushed, eyes wide open. And while Aang still lay on her mattress asleep—happily exhausted from the goings-on during the night—she felt no need to wake him. Instead she walked to the hearth and prepared a breakfast of Arctic Hen eggs and Zebra Seal meat.
Lynnie sauntered in undetected, and scared the wits out of her mother when she stated innocently, "I'm hungry." Katara jumped and spun around—holding a hand to her chest in shock—before she scooped Lynnie into her arms and kissed her flushed cheeks.
"Darling, you're going to give Mama a heart attack if you keep doing that," she stated softly, shifting Lynnie's weight in her left arm.
The child wrapped her arms around her mother's neck and breathed in, perhaps noticing the change in scent. Usually Katara smelled like salt. But now she smelled like some sort of damp plant. Lynnie found the change in smell—and in mood—to be a welcome one.
"You're happy today, Mama," the girl chirped fondly.
"Mhm."
Lynnie watched Katara fold an egg over with her wooden spoon. "Why?"
Katara giggled a little and kissed Lynnie's forehead. This sudden fondness for her daughter felt temporary and almost forced—but for some reason, Katara couldn't help it. Lynnie! Her Lynnie! An extension of Aang and herself...this was their love child. And at the moment, nothing seemed more romantic. More real—solid in the simple act of existing.
"Lynnie darling, how would you like to help Mama with breakfast?"
"Okay!"
"Alright." Katara put the girl down. "Go get Mama the bowl of salt from the counter. Be careful. Use a chair if you can't reach it."
Lynnie did as she was told, carrying the bowl proudly to her mother, grinning as broadly as she could.
"Now pinch your fingers like this, darling," Katara continued, squeezing her thumb and pointer finger. Lynnie did the same. "Very good. Pinch some salt into this egg. It wont taste good without it. Ah! There you are!"
Kissing her daughter for a third time, Katara dried off her hands and tussled Lynnie's hair. Her daughter giggled and recited merrily, with a distant glow in her eyes, "This reminds me of Gran Gran."
Katara's face glazed over. She added another slice of meat to the skillet and bit her lip. "Me too, Lynnie darling. This is exactly the way Gran Gran would have done it."
"Something smells good," Toph's voice observed from the doorway.
Toph, unlike Katara, was not prepared for the morning. Her hair was undone and all over, and her nightgown...Katara suddenly regretted letting Toph borrow it. It was crumpled and seemingly damp.
"There's a bathhouse across from the healing lodge," Katara commented, making a face. "I was about to take Lynnie there after breakfast, Toph. Maybe you should come with us?"
Toph grunted and took a seat without commenting. "There's someone at the door," she stated instead, and took a sip of Lynnie's tea.
Katara wondered how Toph was able to tell, with the South Pole being made of nothing but ice. But regardless, a few knocks did sound from the doorway, and Katara wiped her hands on a piece of cloth and left the hearth to check.
She was surprised to find the village mail carrier standing there, smiling.
"Top of the mornin', Miss Katara," he greeted, shuffling in his bag.
"Hello, Haruk."
He shuffled some more. "I've got a package for you," the man admitted.
"Oh?"
"Yes ma'am. From the Fire Nation, too! Who would have guessed?" He unleashed a small wooden crate and handed it to the waterbender. "It certainly is a good thing we're on good terms with Zuko, eh? Otherwise I'd take this package to be a threat to you and your family."
Haruk smiled, and Katara returned the gesture. She was always baffled with members of her tribe referring to Zuko only as "Zuko" and not "Fire Lord Zuko." But frankly, she had been guilty of the same thing. She did not think of Zuko as a powerful overlord...rather, an old friend.
Though she was certain that the first-name basis the village had grown accustomed to was merely due to lack of respect and mockery towards the Fire Nation.
"Thanks, Haruk," she replied, and handed him a single silver piece, returning to the hearth to find Sokka, Aang, Toph, and Lynnie already eating.
Sokka asked through a mouthful of eggs, "Oh! A package?" Then he licked his lips and dabbed his mouth with a towel, standing up. "For me? Who's it from? What's it say?"
"Sweet!" Toph chimed. "What's in it?"
Katara rolled her eyes. "Just relax," she ordered. Then she sat next to Lynnie and removed a meat knife from the adjacent drawer. "It's from Zuko and Mai. And no, Sokka. It's not for you." Katara squinted at the small sheet of paper attached to the wood. "It says it's for all of us." Her eyes widened and she added in a puzzled manner, "For Lynnie, too."
Aang, who had refused the meat-based breakfast, grimaced. "Lynnie?"
"It's weird," Katara admitted. She had succeeded in opening the top portion of the crate, and was surprised to find another Little Miss Mai doll inside, wrapped in thin paper.
"My dolly!" Lynnie exclaimed, reaching for the gift. "Look, Mama! This is just like the ones I have."
Sokka and Toph returned to their respective seats with equal distaste, disappointed.
Katara, meanwhile, removed a letter that had been attached to the gift. She read it aloud for their congregation:
To our dearest friends in the Southern Water Tribe, she started, handing the doll to Lynnie to unwrap.
We are pleased to invite you to a baby shower to be held in Fire Lady Mai's honor, to take place on the tenth of March, during this year, the Year of the Horse, at midday.
Fire Lord Zuko is expecting an heir to his kingdom, and would consider it the utmost honor for you to attend. He asks that you please not bother with gifts, as you are dear friends of his. Your presence at the ceremony, to be held in the Imperial Ball Room, will be enough.
Katara grinned after reading. "Fancy that!" she stated, in genuine shock.
"It's about time," Toph replied. "How long have they been married? Honestly, I was starting to think that Mai couldn't do it."
"Or that Zuko couldn't," Sokka added, and both he and Toph laughed at the sentiment.
"Mama," Lynnie started, holding up the doll. "There's something wrong with this one." And then the girl pointed to the doll's stomach, which had been inflated noticeably, to give the illusion of pregnancy. Katara laughed and held the doll up for Aang to see.
"How cute is that?" she asked the Avatar, looking at the attached tag. "It says this one is the latest one on the market...'Merry Mama Mai.' Simply darling!"
Aang nodded in agreement. "Now Lynnie has the entire set."
"Which is a shame," Katara answered, frowning and handing the doll to her daughter, "seeing as how she only uses them as flying targets."
"This one will be too heavy to fly," Lynnie reported from her spot. She looked at the doll again and ran her fingers over its stomach.
"What is it, darling?"
"Nothing, Mama," the girl answered. "I'm just wondering what's in there."
Toph stated, "A baby," Sokka answered, "Food," and Katara said "Nothing," all at the same time, which made Aang chuckle under his breath. Katara blushed and bit her lip.
"We'll talk about it some other time," she promised her daughter. "Why don't you and I and Auntie Toph head to the bathhouse now?"
"Who said I'm going?" the earthbender snorted, scratching her forehead. "I don't need to go!"
Katara's eyes narrowed as she lifted Lynnie from her chair. "Oh, you're going, Toph. And it's not an option."
"But—"
"Now."
With one of them groaning and complaining, the three ladies wore their overcoats and headed to the bathhouse, Katara taking a small basket of soaps and lotions, and Toph slouching her shoulders as far as they would go.
Sokka mentioned to Aang that there was a male bathhouse at the other end of the village, and that they should probably visit too. Aang agreed.
In the male bathhouse—which wasn't nearly half as nice as the female bathhouse—Sokka told Aang flatly that he had every intention to marry Toph Bei Fong.
"The problem is," Sokka started underneath the rush of a shower head, "that I need to avenge my father and Suki first, and that might take a while."
Aang frowned in his stall and peeked over the tarp. "Sokka," he started loudly to be heard over the water, "you don't need to avenge anyone."
Sokka grunted without answering.
"Really," Aang continued. "It's not worth it...what's done is done, you know? And going back and looking for trouble...well, that's an entirely different story. It's dangerous."
Still Sokka refused to answer, and in the brief silence that ensued afterward, Aang closed his eyes and faced the running water. It felt nice to enjoy it without the forceful effort of bending.
It was then that Aang's tarp flew wide open, and exposed a nearly naked Sokka in the aftermath. He looked angry. Aang blinked and took a step back when Sokka forced himself inside the stall—nothing but a now damp towel protecting his lower half.
"I don't expect you to understand," Sokka hissed suddenly, grimacing.
"Sokka, what are—"
Then the warrior jabbed a finger into Aang's chest. "Your father wasn't killed, and neither was the person closest to you. Just because you and Katara weren't in touch for four years doesn't mean you can possibly understand." Sokka turned his face. "I'm sorry," he added. "I know it wasn't your fault, but that doesn't fix what happened." He paused. "I have to do this."
Aang shoved Sokka out of his way and pulled his tunic on. The rest of the stalls were nearly full, and the bathhouse was getting rowdy. He stared blankly at Sokka's face.
"I lost my entire race," the Avatar returned bitterly. "My entire culture, all the people who were closest to me. Everything that meant anything."
Sokka noticed that Aang was trying to keep a level head. He frowned—angry but remorseful—and scattered his gaze about the bathhouse.
"When the time came, I didn't kill the Fire Lord. I didn't kill anyone." Aang's voice flickered with uncertainty. He looked at his hands. "The biggest difference between a great leader and a great man," he mentioned, suddenly feeling drained, "is that a great man destroys what hurts him, and a great leader finds a way to reduce the amount of hatred in the world—even if that hatred exists in his enemies. He doesn't kill them to release the hate. He doesn't destroy for his honor." Aang caught Sokka's stare again and took a step closer to the warrior, puffing his chest out. "I'm not telling you to forget. I'm telling you that you have a niece now. You have your sister and Toph to think about. Believe me when I tell you that making new enemies isn't worth it."
"Aang—"
"Believe me," Aang persisted. "You're young and you have your entire life ahead of you. The only responsibility you have is towards your family. You don't have to protect the world and you don't have to play the hero."
In an instant, the thought of grabbing Aang by the windpipe and holding him against the wall appealed to Sokka. He wanted very badly to fight him. Hurt him. Make him realize that it was easy for him to not want to play the hero...but that it was hard for Sokka to let go. Hard for him to forget. Besides, regardless of what Suki's reincarnate or Katara said, Sokka still felt that the assassins were Aang's fault.
They wouldn't have come to the hotel if the Avatar was staying somewhere else, after all.
And Aang—at that moment, in the bathhouse—could see Sokka's suppressed rage; his blinded, furious hate towards the Fire Nation. Hate that had bred from losing his parents and the girl he loved.
"Think about it," the Avatar urged, picking up his things and turning to go. "Hatred only hurts those who harbor it. You have greater things in life to look forward to."
Sokka laughed sarcastically. "Please," he replied, crossing his arms. "Like what?"
"You just told me!" Aang touched Sokka's shoulder. "Toph Bei Fong, for example."
Things were not going so smoothly at the female bathhouse, at the other end of the village.
For one thing, Katara had began throwing up. Doubled over and obviously in pain, she grasped the sides of a wash basin and emptied the contents of her stomach, moaning with the effort. Lynnie watched—horrified—and continued to ask Auntie Toph if Katara was going to be okay.
"This is retribution," Toph explained to the child, smirking. "Katara made me come to the bathhouse this morning, and now look what happened! Ha!"
"Toph—I swear to God"—more vomiting—"you aren't helping—I swear I'm going to..."—a grotesque scream, and some spit—"Oh God."
"Mama! Are you gonna die?" Lynnie hid her face in Toph's overcoat. "You can't die! Please stop being sick!"
Katara stood up and pressed her hand against her forehead. The world was spinning, making duplicates of the watching female bathers. She grimaced at them and they turned back to their stalls.
"I'm okay, darling," the waterbender lied, taking out a small cake of soap. "Mama's just a little sick from breakfast."
"You barely ate anything!" Toph retorted, throwing her arms up. "I say it's morning sickness."
"Toph!"
"What?"
Katara sighed dismally and handed Lynnie a towel. "That is so unnecessary! I am not having morning sickness. And I don't need you announcing things to the entire bathhouse." A few women turned to Katara's direction and snickered quietly to themselves; amused.
"Oh, relax!" the earthbender ordered lazily. "It's a fact. We all had breakfast, but you don't see me or Lynnie blowing chunks."
Lynnie laughed at the word "chunks."
Katara mumbled something indecipherable and took to removing her daughter's shoes. "I'm going to be fine," she promised Toph. "You'll see! Maybe...I don't know. Maybe I'm catching something? The flu."
"Or another child?"
"Toph—please!"
Toph smirked and put her hands behind her head. "Just don't say I didn't warn you when Twinkle Puff Junior starts poking out of your kimono."
Katara ignored this and doused Lynnie's hair with warm water, using her bending when necessary. Then she combed the girl's dark curls back, forming the twin braids and tying them up, like dog ears.
Toph continued to refuse the shower head until Katara doused her with a round of soap water, and then Toph cursed the day God created the South Pole without any solid earth beneath it. She used crude language a few times—again winning stares from the other bathers—but finally settled into a wash basin.
"Mama," Lynnie asked her mother as they waited for Toph outside. "What's a blow chunk?"
"It's when someone throws up," Katara answered. "But it's a bad way of putting it, darling. 'Vomit' works just as nicely."
Lynnie nodded in comprehension and then took to staring at her mother's belly. She put a hand against it.
Katara—who had always suffered from a severely ticklish ribcage—giggled and pushed the girl's hand away. "Lynnie!" she scolded, making a face. "What was that for?"
"I'm just checking," the child murmured. "What if Auntie Toph is right? Then you and my new Mai doll can have babies together!" Lynnie clapped, and Katara stared at her—amused slightly, but also frightened.
Katara knelt to her daughter's level. "Darling, Mama isn't going to have any other babies. Okay? Auntie Toph was joking."
Lynnie looked disappointed.
"Mama is just going to look after you now, and your Baba." Katara smiled sweetly. "That's all I can handle. Alright, dearest?"
"So no new baby?"
"No new baby," Katara confirmed. And Lynnie frowned deeply and looked at her feet.
When Toph emerged from the bathhouse (smelling nicer than she had in weeks), Katara elbowed her side as hard as she could. And then the waterbender whispered—quietly enough so that Kya Lynn wouldn't hear—"I hope you're happy! You've got Lynnie picking on me about babies."
Toph turned in Katara's general direction, and it was then Katara remembered the Toph of her childhood.
The eyes, the healer thought, staring at them. Though they were sightless, they portrayed certain characteristics nearly perfectly. Moments ago, Toph looked cynical and unfeeling. Yet now there was a genuine depiction in her expression...a sort of thorough understanding.
It reminded Katara of the foreshadowing found in those Earth Kingdom novels she had bought ages ago. There were words that emerged simply as a warning, a kind of looming cloud that could bring luck, fate, or catastrophe.
Her stomach turned over.
The younger woman replied—just as quietly as Katara—"I'd elbow you back, Sweetness, but I won't. For the baby's sake."
Then Katara felt the world spin again, and her stomach pinched even tighter, and she let go of Lynnie's hand and vomited the remains of her stomach in a nearby arctic shrub.