Part Two - The Earth Cycle
"In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." —The Holy Bible
Water - Six years, four months, six days
Every time she had seen Katara in the past six years, there'd been a brat hanging off of her ludicrously voluminous skirts and a heaviness hanging around her center that was sometimes anger, sometimes guilt, and sometimes plain unhappiness. For Toph, a drooling hanger-on was as much a part of who Katara was as the gliding meter of her steps and the way her heart stuttered without fail if you said the right words: husband, Zuko, baby, Aang.
So when Katara emerged from her transport in armor instead of robes with only a handful of uniformed soldiers in tow, the entire picture felt really fucking lopsided.
"Presenting Fire Lady Katara!" one of the soldiers shouted. The crowd gathered in the courtyard hesitated, shooting expectant looks in her direction. She couldn't see it, but it was easy enough to feel the tilt of their heads and the apprehensive pause between heartbeats. Lately people were always waiting for her to do the right thing. Toph frowned and curled her hands into tight fists, digging her nails into her palms. Royal family arrives, she recited, the throne room is prepared, the rebels are thrown into a deep, dark pit, everyone goes the fuck home. There was nothing in her meticulously planned itinerary about Katara arriving alone or about the appropriate response to some idiot screaming her name. One of her advisors burst into enthusiastic applause. Bumi would say: Bravo! Excellent entrance, really! Toph twisted her mouth, but clapped, struggling not to communicate too much sarcasm.
The crowd broke out in scattered applause. Mostly though, they stared. And whispered, craning their necks to see the Fire Lady wrapped in blue-black leather instead of crimson silk, who cast her gaze over the courtyard with the bearing of a general instead of a pretty wife. Under normal circumstances, Toph would be preparing to greet her with a nice friendly punch, but with each step, Toph could feel the not insignificant number of weapons tucked into her boots, hidden up her sleeves, or slid into the waist of her pants. If Katara insisted on having the stupidest position in the stupidest nation in the world, Toph could at least respect that she was also apparently the most prepared to throw down.
Besides, she should pace herself. There were a whole host of embarrassing things Toph would probably do by the day's end.
Katara's entourage came to a stop at the top of the stairs. Bumi would say: Thank you for joining us, your Flamey-ness. Toph crossed her arms over her chest and did not flick pebbles at the guards flanking the Fire Lady. "Good thing you brought that guy," she said. "Would've never guessed who you were if it weren't for him." There was a thick silence in which her advisors' hearts quivered nervously.
The last time I saw you, Toph thought, but did not say, you were cracked, overwhelmed, playing a regent at twenty-two. Now, Katara was barely twenty-three, with a presence as steady and queenly as a full moon. Toph was twenty years old and every day still felt like some high-stakes game of pretend. The unfairness of it all rose from a simmer to a boil at the sound of Katara's laugh.
"Temper, temper, your highness," Katara said and folded Toph into a hug. "I almost think you aren't happy to see me." Toph scowled, but endured the show of affection. She may as well. Katara co-controlled a fourth of the entire world. And it had been at least a month since anyone had thought to give her a hug.
"Fire Lady Katara," she mumbled against her shoulder and squirmed to be let go. Katara released her and inclined her head to the officials lined up on either side of her who watched the interaction warily. "What a wasted opportunity," she said, pulling her robes straight again. "You could've been the Icy Hand of Justice or the Fire Lord's Fist! Princess Icy Pants!" One of the advisors cleared their throat forcefully. Toph snorted and shoved her hands into the absurdly oversized sleeves of her robe. "Could've been you," she sniffed.
Katara grabbed an errant lock of hair and twisted it back into her top knot. "Yes, I got the messages you sent. Turns out Zuko really puts his foot down on stupid stuff like official royal titles."
"Men ruin everything."
Toph couldn't see grins made with the mouth, but the smile Katara gave her shone through her entire body. She reached up to run her fingertips through Toph's hair, arranging it around the iron-spun circlet perched just so on her head. "Then it's a good thing they have queens like you to lead them, your highness."
Bumi would say: neutral jing! Toph punched Katara in the arm. Hard.
The crowd fell into horrified silence, the advisors gasped, and Katara's guards took a simultaneous step in her direction, pulling swords from their sheaths. Toph arched an eyebrow and started to shift into stance, but then Katara laughed again and flicked her fingers towards her guards. The swords snapped back, the guards stood at attention, and Toph was momentarily stuck on the thoughtless, casual way Katara bent a handful of Fire Nation soldiers to her will. The two men on either side of her dropped into deep bows, babbling apologies to Katara's shoes.
"The New Queen meant no harm, Fire Lady!"
"The New Queen did not mean to disrespect, Fire Lady!"
Toph stomped her foot and twin pillars of rock jutted up from underneath them, sending them both stumbling backwards. "Actually," she said, planting her fists on her hips, "I meant at least a small amount of harm and moderate disrespect. Fire Lady."
"Point taken," Katara said, massaging her arm. "Are the prisoners prepared?"
Katara's heart held steady and Toph's began to pound. "Everything is. Where's Zuko?"
"He'll meet me at the Boiling Rock."
Toph sniffed and turned, leading the way into the palace. Her guards sprang forward, moving to surround her on all sides. "Hubby gonna let you play queen for the day?" she sneered. Katara fell into step behind her and her guards swept into her wake, fanned out behind her like the train of a cloak. There was a steady measure to her steps, an easy angle to her shoulders over her spine.
"I'm not exactly here to be a queen," she said, and drew a thin line of water from the skin at her hip.
The laws of Omashu were simultaneously complex and terrifyingly simple. Underlying every one of the thousands of laws, codes, policies and guidelines was one simple fact. Ultimately, there was only one judge, one jury, and one executioner within the city walls.
It took more than an hour for the crowd to filter into the throne room and settle down. Toph would have closed the doors and proceeded after the first fifteen minutes, but Katara insisted that they wait until every seat was full.
"This hall is big enough for a couple hundred," Toph said, leaning her back against the wall to feel the crushing rumble of bodies in the next room. Katara chose a piece of fruit from the bowl on the table. "What makes you think that many people want to watch this?"
Katara made a face that was part grin part grimace and swallowed her mouthful of peach. "Tragedy is just another kind of spectacle."
Toph frowned, turning that one over in her mind. It seemed that the more power she had to cut down anyone who annoyed her, the more twisting it took to unravel meaning behind the things people said.
"Tell me the sentences again," she demanded. Katara sat down on top of the table and swung her feet idly.
"The firebenders will come with me to serve prison terms at the Boiling Rock. Our intelligence confirms they were all in leadership roles and had a hand in planning the attack." Her heartbeat holds steady, but her breathing hitches, a phantom ache over a long-healed wound. "The other two will take fifteen lashes each. They contributed time and resources to the cause, but it isn't clear that they understood the extent of what they had planned. I'll deliver the lashes myself. They'll be free to go once I'm done." Toph's heartbeat holds steady, but her stomach twists.
Bumi would say: anything. Anything at all. Bumi would know what to say. Toph let the silence stretch out, drumming her fingers against the wall behind her. This wasn't how this— any of this— was supposed to happen. Zuko was supposed to be here, the Throne room was supposed to be prepared, and Bumi was supposed to be at her side, carrying the crown on his head. Katara sighed suddenly, hopped down, and crossed the room to lean against the wall beside her.
"I want to tell you something," she said after a moment. She leaned in close enough that Toph could feel her shoulder brush up against hers. "But first, you need to say it. It's just us."
Toph started to snap back, lips twisted into a scowl, but she couldn't quite fit the retort past the lump in her throat. She tilted her head back, feeling the scrape of iron on stone. Bumi would know what to say.
"I have no idea what I'm doing," Toph whispered.
Katara didn't answer, but reached out suddenly to grab Toph by the wrist. She tugged and pressed the young queen's palm low on her belly, just below her navel. Toph's eyes went wide and her other hand went to the stone behind Katara's back, finger's flexed.
It was faint. But it was there.
"We don't have to know, Toph," Katara murmured. "But we have to try."
There was a sharp knock on the door and Katara dropped her hand. "Let's go, Queen Bei Fong. The people are waiting."
Bumi would say: they are your people now. Toph chewed on her bottom lip and followed Katara from the room.
There were seven prisoners in all: five Fire Nation citizens and two Omashu boys. The guards brought them up from the cells one by one to receive judgement. Katara had said: spectacle. Toph called it: drama.
The first five passed in a blur of pomp and ceremony. There were a lot of words that had to be said in order to cast a man's entire future into a pile of rubble. But then the guards brought out the Omashu boys and Toph was fighting a nest of serpent rats in her belly.
"Yun Lee, guilty of treason and conspiracy!" The boy held his shackled wrists against his chest and crept forward.
"Yun Rei, guilty of treason and conspiracy!" His brother trembled so hard that he stumbled and fell to his knees. Somewhere in the crowd, a woman was sobbing, pressing something hard against her mouth to muffle her cries.
Toph was the only judge, the only jury, the only executioner in Omashu. But Omashu was a drop in the middle of the ocean. Omashu needed allies. So Toph bit down hard on the part of her that was screaming that this was not right that this was not the same that these boys were hers to protect. Katara glided to her feet, just as steady in her decision to lash two young boys as she had been throwing a handful of men into a life of languishing in prison. Toph couldn't see the stream of water she bent, but knew Katara's water whip stance almost as well as her own forms. The guards pushed the boys to their knees and tore open their shirt backs. The woman in the crowd was weeping aloud now, not bothering to make the sound any smaller or less heart-rending and Toph's heart thundered along in time with her ragged gasping. Katara shifted, readying herself to strike—
"Stop!" Toph didn't know she was going to stand until she was on her feet, didn't know that she was going to protest until her hand was raised.
Bumi would say: you are their queen.
Katara turned her head, but did not drop her bending stance and one of her advisors stepped forward from his place behind the throne. Toph held up a hand and he shut his mouth with an audible snap. She didn't need to hear him say that even in Omashu there were rules she could not break, that she had given her judgement, that the Fire Lady had stated the price of her justice and now she had to be paid.
I have no idea what I'm doing, she'd told Katara.
We don't have to know, Katara had replied, but we have to try.
The guards moved away as she left her throne and approached. Both boys lowered their heads as she came to a stop before them.
"Do you—" Toph swallowed. Her tongue felt thick and dry in her mouth. "Do you confess what you did?" There was a whoosh as Katara bent the water back into her skin. The brothers looked at each other and then bowed low.
"We do, your highness," one of them said. "We… we gave the rebels food and a place to stay. We gave them supplies. But we swear we had no idea what they were planning." The one who spoke, Yun Lee, chanced a glance up from the stone floor up at Katara. "We wouldn't have done it if we had known," he whispered. Yun Rei was shaking so hard there was a fine, clink coming from his shivering chains. Toph chewed on the inside of her lip.
"Swear to me," she said, surprising herself with the steadiness of her own voice. "Swear that you are loyal to my crown." There was a great swell of muttering from the crowd. The boys gaped but then took hold of the hem of her robes.
"We swear," Yun Rei stammered. "We have always been loyal to Omashu. We will always be loyal to the crown."
Toph held still, twisting their words around in their mind, trying to find a shadow, any hidden intent. It was the purest thing anyone had said to her in years.
Her fingers didn't tremble as they undid the sash at her waist. Her hands didn't fumble as she pushed the robe down from her shoulders so that she stood only in her thin, cotton shift. She turned her head slightly, listening to the way Katara's heart pounded, matching it to the steady calm in her posture, imagined the performed serenity on her face. "You were sentenced to fifteen lashes," Toph said and presented her back to Katara's whip. This is all I can do, she did not say. You are a queen and I am a girl and this is all I can do. Katara had always had knack for hearing what Toph would not say. She swallowed, but sank slowly into her bending stance once more.
The first blow came with a mighty snap. It didn't hurt so much as sting.
The second blow came and the crowd fell silent. The only sound in the room was the weeping woman's whimpers.
The fifth blow came and Katara's breathing began to tremble. Her form did not falter though and her blows began to draw blood.
The ninth blow came and Toph cast her mind back to the day she first set foot in Omashu, to the crazy, gleeful way that Bumi had taken her hand in his.
The twelfth blow came and she cried out despite herself. Yun Lee and Yun Rei each took hold of one of her hands.
The thirteenth blow came and the people rose to their feet.
The fourteenth blow came. Her people were chanting.
The fifteenth blow came. They were saying her name.
Katara let the water fall to the ground and rushed to Toph's side, already reaching to heal what she had done, but Toph turned, stumbling back out of her reach. She grit her teeth, but held her head high as measured steps carried her back up the dais. And as she sank down onto her throne, her people fell to their knees in ripples, murmuring her name. Katara's hand twitched, ghosting towards her stomach and then she bowed too, bending low at the waist. Toph dug her toes into the earth, feeling every drip of pain, every lowered head, every loyal heart spread out at her feet.
Bumi would say: Now let's get started.
Toph painted on a smile.
A/N: Whoa. If I've ever struggled to get into someone's head it's Toph. Jesus. This chapter was such a trial/labor of love. It was touuuugh getting what I had in my head onto the page, but I think I'm moderately happy with how it turned out. Toph's arc is very different from Katara's, so hopefully y'all enjoy!
Happy pre-friday!