Archive of Our Own

It starts out as a joke. Toph drops by Ba Sing Se while she carries on her journey to recruit future metalbenders. The latest journey is no different. After all, someone had to make sure the old man didn't kick the bucket anytime soon. 

Iroh always has a warm cup of tea and a story ready for her. Their group is split in every direction these days, so stories are shared through a funnel, retold from Sugar Queen to Twinkle Toes, botched by Sokka, retrieved by Suki—until Iroh can interpret some vague semblance to Toph that doesn’t sound as crazy as Appa learned how to swampbend and retrieved Momo from the Spirit World. 

Iroh’s admitted to adding some flare—if only to make Toph laugh harder. In reality, Aang is traveling the world doing his peacemaker thing, Katara is handling relations between Northern and Southern Water Tribes, Sokka ventures with the White Lotus, and Suki is busy herding Ty Lee before the Kyoshi Warriors become the newest act for governess daughter, Mai of the Fire Nation. 

“Really,” Iroh will tell Toph like the gossiping group of housewives in her mom’s hanafuda club, “I believe the Kyoshi Warriors may stop answering house calls to entertain Tom-Tom. The boy isn’t even there for most of the entertainment.” 

“Sounds spicy,” Toph will reply. “Like this blend of ginger root and cumin.” 

“Delicious, isn’t it?” Iroh will gush. “I’ve gotten to customize the menu more these days. The people of Ba Sing Se love it.” 

Trading, of course, is handled with a humble hand from the Fire Lord himself—who’s a constant presence in the Jasmine Dragon. Sparky probably spends more time at the Jasmine Dragon than he does running the Fire Nation, but neither nephew nor uncle see it as a problem. Toph suspects it’s where most of the political power goes: making sure the old man is well -stocked and versed in his tea selection, even if Zuko’s palate hasn’t improved past hot water and leaves. 

It’s the thought that counts, at least. Along with the gossip Zuko may bring to the table.

“Ty Lee and Mai have always been close,” Zuko reasons. “Even before Azula. I could never get Mai to smile the way Ty Lee does.” 

A smile on Mai sounds as straight and sharp as the edge of one of her knives. 

“Take notes for your next girlfriend then, Sparky,” Toph remarks. “Spend more time with her and hate the world less.” 

Zuko wrinkles his nose—pouts and sulks, even—but Toph can hide her snicker behind her cup of tea. This many years after the war (five, going on six), Zuko needs (and knows he needs) to unwind himself from his coiled spring and make some flying lemurs in the mud. 

“This one had a hard time adapting to mud,” Iroh will say. “Those palace walls—filled with the warmest baths you can imagine. You haven’t lived until you’ve had a hot spring egg.” 

“I’ve lived in mud,” Zuko protests. “I spent years hunting the Avatar—I mean, Aang.” 

“I lived in mud,” Toph rebuts. “By choice. Twinkle Toes hunting optional. It’s a lifestyle.” 

She can hear him roll his eyes—but he’s more lax these days. They even play paisho from time-to-time—and while Toph can’t get a conversation out of Fire Lord of Honor like Sokka, they end up with a good rapport.

On more than one occasion, these conversations carry on via messenger hawk, read to Toph by her tribe of students, or picked back up when they meet in Ba Sing Se.

There’s a flavor of irritation that they both relate to—filled with annoying elders and uppity meetings. Toph, when she visits her parents in Gaoling—and Zuko, with the Fire Sages and many parties in the palace that would bore Toph to tears. 

Sokka called them rich people problems. Toph said he was too poor to talk to her. 

The Jasmine Dragon offers a thinly veiled reprieve when Toph needs to decompress from too much time with her parents, and when Zuko wants respite from snarky old men in red robes (Iroh introduces him as his son, Lee, to newcomers, and Zuko reassures them that, no, the Fire Lord’s scar is on the other side of his face and that he himself doesn’t see the resemblance.) 

They’ll sit and play paisho until Iroh needs help. Sometimes Toph informs Zuko of customers that are giving his uncle a difficult time, or Zuko will grab an apron unprompted to help out. Toph gets a kick out of it—because it serves as a reminder how socially awkward Zuko can be despite his royal status. 

For example: 

Once, a regular saw Toph camped out at a table that hosted both their belongings. The woman couldn’t leave without making a remark, and Toph was aware she’d been staring since she entered the tea shop. “My, is this your girlfriend, Lee? She’s beautiful!” 

“What?” Zuko responded at the same moment Toph said, “Aren’t I a catch? He’s lucky.” 

It’s a reflex for Toph. It’s confusing to Zuko. 

Zuko’s love life is a mystery to Toph. After the breakup with Mai, he didn’t seem interested in anyone else. Toph suspected for a long time something with Sugar Queen—but Katara admitted she mostly heard from Sokka about Zuko’s personal life. 

The woman in the tea shop laughed before the great Fire Lord could recover. “Why, what a confident woman! Good on you, Lee. I can assure you all the girls in Ba Sing Se will be heartbroken.” 

“Girls,” Zuko had repeated, speechless. “Thank you.” 

“Girls,” Toph agreed. “Sucks to be them.” 

Zuko had been exasperated—but reassured it was because of the afternoon rush. He forgot about it by the end of the night—and Toph did, too, until it happened a second time. And a third. And a fourth. She lost count after that, but it’s still funny. 

“Why haven’t you taken up a new girlfriend?” she asks one evening, after close. “You and Mai broke up years ago. Your uncle says half his clientele are girls wondering where his son is.” 

She knows Zuko is uncomfortable before he even voices it. Zuko’s signature frown has a spirit of its own. 

“I don’t want a girlfriend,” Zuko mutters eventually. “The Fire Sages are getting testy about finding a suitable wife and producing heirs. I don’t want that, either.” 

“What, Little Miss Sunshine didn’t want to be a bored housewife popping out babies?” 

Zuko should be glaring. It’s his default. Instead, he just wipes down the table more vigorously. “Little Miss—Mai wasn’t the problem.” 

There’s gravitas in his voice. Toph knows through annual reunions and at the bell of the tsungi horn that Sokka has asked for more details and Zuko’s always closed up—especially around Sokka. She isn’t hopeful of getting more out of him. 

“My mom and dad are asking the same questions,” Toph reassures him. “Every time I visit, my mom tells me about all these suitors that have come by the house and my dad lists off all the assets their families own. Like I’d care about inheriting some piece of land, anyway.” 

It’s apparently a safe enough deviation. “Is that why you’ve been coming to Ba Sing Se more often?” 

Toph shrugs nonchalantly. “No freakin’ way I’m gonna marry some stuffy guy because they want me to.” 

“Have you even had a boyfriend?” 

“Couple of flings. Nothing serious.” 

Zuko gets weird about the subject. Toph doesn’t know when, but somewhere down the line he’s turned her into some replacement little sister. Maybe because her teasing doesn’t come with emotional trauma. “How…flingy?” 

“Who knows. I lost count.” 

He chokes on his tea—which is the second un-ladylike thing to happen this evening. Toph just laughs harder.

“Kidding, Sparky. Stop clutching your pearls—it’s how I stave off these losers my parents find.” Toph kicks her feet over the table and opens a bag of fire flakes. “I don’t want to be some boring housewife popping out babies for some random guy, either. I’m the one with the family name. And the prestige.” 

Zuko seems to consider that with a hum. 

“‘Rich people problems,’” she says in the same cadence that Sokka would brag about. Zuko snorts. 

“Rich people problems,” he agrees—and they pour one out for their loudmouthed friend. Eventually they switch the tea for fire whiskey, which always makes Toph loose-lipped. (More than usual, anyway.)

“We could get married,” Toph jests—and she cackles when Zuko makes another face. “No—really—you don’t want a wife, and I don’t want to be some nameless housewife pumping out babies. The Fire Sages will get off your ass and my parents can flex that I’m getting married to the goddamn Fire Lord.” 

Zuko is definitely drunk, because he’s actually receptive to the idea. “What happens if they start asking about grandkids?” 

“Tell them I’m difficult,” Toph says. “I don’t give a shit. I’m the freaking Fire Lady. I can do what I want. I’ve been telling my parents that for years.”

“Toph,” Zuko says—far more sober than anyone should be this late at night, “being Fire Lady is a serious duty. There are responsibilities.” 

“New reign, then,” Toph says, pushing a small glass of whiskey in his direction. “I’d say no more duties. No more responsibilities. No rules.” 

“Doesn’t Aang want you to establish the police force for Republic City?” 

Toph shrugs nonchalantly. Maybe begrudgingly. Thinking about Aang is fine, sure—but she’s hated hearing his name aloud these days. “I’ll make the rules there, too. Rule one: go nuts.” 

Zuko gets even weirder in this little sister-replacement predicament. It’s awfully too traditional for her taste. “What if you find someone you fall in love with? And you want to settle down?” 

“Royalty has misters and mistresses all the time,” Toph points out. “The Earth King has six wives and a male consort. He likes anyone who likes his bear.” 

“The Earth King has a male lover?” Zuko asks, which is absolutely not the detail she expects him to attach to. 

“You could too. Have seven.” Toph clinks her glass into Zuko’s and takes another swig of whiskey. She crookedly moves a paisho piece across the board. “Go nuts. Have that guy’s nuts. I don’t care. Problem solved.” 

Zuko spits out his whiskey, abhorred. “You’ve got a worse mouth than half the men in my military.” 

“Looks like you need better taste in men, then,” Toph rebuts. She definitely won’t remember this conversation in the morning. 

If Aang were here, this conversation wouldn’t go as far as it has. If Katara was here, she’d be marrying them off after a few swigs of whiskey herself. 

“It could work,” Zuko says after a while, contemplative.

“You owe me, anyway.” 

“Owe you what?” 

“A life-changing adventure. Duh, Sparky.” 

*

Katara and Suki come to Ba Sing Se at the same time—the Jasmine Dragon also their first stop. Katara envelops Toph with a hug—and for all the smart remarks Toph can come up with at the top of her head, she never makes them when they’re in this position. Toph could criticize her for making them both so soft—but it’s an appreciated comfort. They bring Ty Lee along—who subjects Toph and the rest of them to a spa day.

Toph learns quickly that Ty Lee talks too quickly to butt in with a no—which explains how the Kyoshi Warriors often frequent the Fire Nation to visit Mai with little protest. Toph settles on scaring the spa workers again instead, with Katara’s blessing. The balance between them is weird—but Toph makes a beeline for the mud bath.

“Toph,” Suki says, “I can’t get over how much you’ve grown. Has it really only been six months?”

Toph shrugs in her mud bath. “I guess. You could stand to visit more.”

“Hey,” she reasons. “Same to you. You must be beating men off with a stick.”

“Yeah, Toph,” Ty Lee says airily. Toph’s convinced she was an airbender in a past life. “Under all that mud and dirt, you’re, like, actually really pretty.”

“I’ll have you know that the mud and dirt is a choice,” Toph grumbles. “I choose it.”

“Iroh tells me there’s a line of suitors at the tea shop just to see you,” Katara remarks—and Toph isn’t sure how this conversation turned into one of her mother’s gossip corners with other Gaoling wives.

Toph groans. “Please. There’s a reason I don’t visit Gaoling anymore.”

“Your parents giving you trouble?” Katara asks—always with a voice of concern.

“Only the losers they think can keep up with me. Seriously—they spend twelve years of my life thinking I’m some helpless little girl and another four not sure how to handle me—and now they think they can just choose some chump for me?” Toph scoffs. “It’s a pain in the ass.”

“Don’t I know it,” Ty Lee chimes in. “You’ve got an aura that can’t be contained.”

Toph can tell Katara is giving Suki a funny look. Suki just shrugs.

“Thank you,” Toph says. “That’s why Sparky and I are just going to elope. No one can tell us what to do if we’re royalty.”

At first, they laugh like it’s a joke. Then it gets so quiet that Toph can literally hear a feather drop in the other room.

“Wait—” Katara sits up and props herself at the edge of the bath. “You’re not serious—are you? Toph?”

Toph snorts. “Did I stutter?”

“What?” Suki gasps. “You? And Fire Lord Zuko? When did that happen?”

 “It didn’t happen,” Toph says. “We’re just getting married.”

This, of course, invites a flurry of questions and an explanation of a drunken night of what-ifs that turned into a Morning After of Should We? and some quiet arrangements that have resulted in Toph’s parents getting off her back and the Fire Sages allowing Zuko to just be Zuko.

“That’s so exciting!” Ty Lee squeals.

It also turns the wrinkle in Katara’s brow into a long crevasse before she’s pressing a hand to her face.

“That’s not exciting, Toph—” she says—laments—and it’s best that they got their reunion hug out of the way early on. “The Fire Nation’s relationship with the rest of the world has been in a delicate state in the last few years. How does it look that you’re both getting married for personal gain?”

Toph blows a piece of hair out of her face. “A marriage between someone in the Earth Kingdom and the Fire Lord. Seems political enough for me.”

“That’s not what I meant,” she berates. “This is serious, Toph. Making a decision off one drunken night is irresponsible.”

“Really? Because I can assure you there’s no hotman growing in this belly.” Toph knows that only grinds Katara’s worry more. “We talked about it again after we got rid of the hangover, Sugar Queen. Relax. Political arrangements like this happen all the time.”

“Any idea how the people of Fire Nation may react to the news?” Suki asks Ty Lee, who hums.

“Well—probably some cattiness. They’d wonder about status,” Ty Lee says. “Mai was the daughter of a governess.”

“Gee, which one will they have a problem with?” Toph asks wryly. “The Bei Fong Family that owns most of the land in Gaoling or the fact that it’s the Avatar’s Earthbending Master?”

“Zuko’s mom is from a small village,” Ty Lee reminds them. “She was sought out personally by his dad. Kinda creepy meetcute, but it happens.”

Katara opens her mouth to make another rebuttal. One doesn’t come. “Don’t you want to fall in love?”

“I can have a male lover or two.” Toph shrugs. “Then they get the honor of telling people they were dumped by the Fire Lady.”

“Aang won’t like it,” Katara reasons at last. “He won’t approve.”

That strikes more of a chord with Toph than she’d like to admit. She scowls before she can help herself and cocks her head in Katara’s direction with an accusatory finger. “Seriously? That coming from the girl who turned down Aang’s proposals twice before breaking up with him? At least I’m transparent about what I want, Sweetness.”

Katara is flabbergasted. “How do you know what I wanted?”

Toph huffs. “How do you think? Someone had to comfort that baldy.”

Katara clamps her mouth shut. It’s an old wound at this point from a breakup of over a year ago—but it’s one that gets Toph’s point across.

“I still think it’s bad,” she says finally.

“Fine,” Toph tells her. “Sokka can be my maid of honor instead.”

*

They don’t travel together anymore. Partly because of different priorities, and partly because of social awkwardness. At the age of fourteen, shortly after the war, Aang made the bold gesture of proposing to Katara. For as rational as he could be in weighing the world’s decisions, Aang always threw caution to the wind when it came to Katara.

Toph got the explanation in a tired stupor from Twinkle Toes about a year after that proposal—the war was over, the world was coming back to order, and the timing was apparently perfect. The duties of the Avatar were practically organizing themselves, so he needed to focus on rebuilding the Air Nomads. He’d gotten down on one knee where they went penguin-sledding. According to Katara, she was so stunned that the no on her tongue was instinctive.

Relations between the Southern and Northern Water Tribes were also important to rebuild, and she felt a great responsibility to make that happen. As Toph kept reminding everyone, pumping out babies for the rest of her life was not the end-all, be-all.

Katara also struck a blow to Aang’s pride, saying he was too young, and that the decision was too serious. It resulted in a big fight—that eventually resolved itself. Toph recalls telling Aang that he can’t just throw a tantrum every time Katara says no. Aang’s rebuttal was that he was the Avatar, and he didn’t throw tantrums.

They argued—bickered, but never to the severity Katara and Aang would occasionally have. Toph knows the marriage argument cropped up at least once or twice a year while they were still dating.

Emotional maturity, Aang had muttered the night they had one of those fights. I’m a hundred-and-fifteen-years-old! I’m plenty mature!

Toph’s solution that night was to pummel the sadness out of Aang. They sparred until Aang finally passed out.

Eventually there was a resolution. Toph stopped hearing both sides of it.

The second proposal came around Katara’s eighteenth birthday. Four years after the war, they were all older. More mature. Aang had a necklace carved. He asked for Sokka and Hakoda’s blessing.

He was waiting for the absolute, right moment to pop the question. Which quickly deflated when he was convinced that Katara and Haru were into each other. In a bout of jealousy and horrible rationale, he made a public proposal as the stupidest power move in a passive aggressive attempt to tell Haru to back off.

(Toph remembers that party well. Teo was sweet on her.)

It all escalated when Katara found this out—but culminated into a pacing Katara wondering if they should go ahead and get married anyway. For world peace, and all. Everyone expected it. 

Or, if she legitimately wanted to date Haru for the sake of dating and having nothing serious. To have a breath of fresh air outside of being the Avatar’s girlfriend.

Toph knew right away that revelation was going to kill Twinkle Toes. 

Especially the closer they got to the wedding day, which was shaping up to be a worldly affair, ignited with the wrong intent. 

Needless to say, the breakup was messy. Aang was destroyed. The Avatar and his beautiful waterbending master/girlfriend made a splash everywhere they went, so Aang couldn’t walk two steps in front of himself without people asking about nuptials and the prospects of children. 

It’s not well-known that Aang and she traveled together shortly after the canceled wedding. Katara buried herself in rebuilding the Southern Wafer Tribe’s relationship with its sister tribe. Sokka apparently liked to bounce ideas off Zuko for Republic City—so while Ty Lee swept Suki and the rest of the Kyoshi Warriors away, the Fire Lord hosted the White Lotus candidate at the palace.

Somewhere in all that chaos, Suki and Sokka had broken up, along with Mai and Zuko. Had she been younger, Toph might’ve been gleeful. Instead, between her countless fling or two, was a break where her metalbending students went home to be with family. Toph accompanied Aang on his travels post-abandoned wedding, assisting in (chaotically) restoring world order as needed.

Aang and Katara had been a singular unit long before they started dating—but the first time Toph ever met their group was when a big-eared twelve-year-old dared to step in her arena with hopeful eyes and a plea for an earthbending teacher.

(You know—after yoinking her title belt, hunting her down to the Bei Fong estate, and trolling Toph to her wit’s end while dangling her most closely held secret in front of her parents. Good times, kidnapping and all.)

Granted—Aang’s intervention was Toph’s first taste of freedom from the outside. One that she didn’t burrow herself like a badgermole tunnel. Burrowing out of the trail Aang left for her brought Toph into their lifelong group of friends.

But it’s not until after the wedding that Toph and Aang are alone again. Just the two of them. 

Katara and Aang were too sickeningly sweet and lovey-dovey when they were together. Toph learned to tune them out early. 

When their new travels began, Toph joked that she didn’t realize Aang’s voice dropped. He insisted he’d outgrown the name Twinkle Toes—to a point Toph’s head ends where his shoulders begin—but Toph said it was more likely that she shrunk.

Aang post-breakup was gruffer. He had the backbone Toph often pointed out he’d need for earthbending when they were younger. Toph hadn’t seen him that heartbroken since they lost Appa to the sandbenders—a subject that’s still sore to Toph, even if it hasn’t been brought up in years.

The only difference between that trauma and this one is that Katara can’t be the point of comfort. And Toph’s never been Little Miss Perfect, Pretty, Practically A Princess Herself Sugar Queen that can offer a shoulder to cry on. Zuko and she are practical when they talk. Toph’s love language with Sokka is smacking him with his own boomerang when his joke doesn’t land.

Toph’s been on the receiving end of one of Katara’s hugs. Those things have a healing property of their own.

Aang and she—they never did the mushy stuff. He’d yell, she’d be stone cold and call his bluff. He’d get under her skin, she’d storm off and give him the silent treatment until he begrudgingly apologize. She’d do something petty to get under his skin—and in the rare instance they both went too far, Toph would find herself lain bare in vulnerability, admittedly scared to lose the first person she ever called a friend.

But, again, it rarely got to that point. Toph has no problem eliminating the Avatar before admitting she’s got a weak point. She pokes at Aang instead with questions too brazen for Sweetness.

“Maybe start smaller,” she told him over dinner—two months post-breakup, one month into traveling together. Aang offered her the berries he found for his salad, and they weren’t bad. “Like—maybe don’t put all of your eggs in one basket for the first girl you meet in a hundred years.”

The wound was finally healing, and Aang was coming around to talking about the breakup. Otherwise Toph would’ve been subjected to her best Katara impression—which never comes out without sounding like she’s making fun of her best friend.

The words obviously got under his skin—not that any of their other friends were willing to bring up the subject. Sokka adamantly said he was Ba Sing Se between his sister and oldest friends before remembering the implications and denial of war, and Zuko offered a shoulder to cry on for Aang, but what would Uncle do? could only go so far.

Toph got the worst of it. The lead-up from both sides and the aftermath from them. Friendship politics were bullshit, and she didn’t subscribe to them. Suki handled the soft and caring stuff for Katara, and Toph drew the bald-end of the stick.

Aang wasn’t too happy with her assessment. Maybe it was her tone of voice—her usual bluntness. Or the words themselves.

“I’ve been in love with Katara since I was twelve years old,” he said. “You just don’t get it, T. You’ve never been in love.”

“Tragic. How’s that working out for you?”

That only added fuel to the fire. Aang insisted Toph wouldn’t get it. She was being really rude about it, too.

“Hey, I’ve known Katara almost as long as you have,” she pointed out. “You proposed to her in front of all her friends and family and it was supposed to be some big romantic gesture.”

“Super romantic,” Aang insisted. “So she’d be swept off her feet and couldn’t say no.”

“Yeah. So she couldn’t say no. You know she’s too nice to embarrass you in front of a kajillion people. And you never really let her forget turning you down the first time you proposed.”

Maybe it was rude. Toph figured she could afford rude after enduring Aang’s moodiness for the last few weeks. She rued Katara for putting her in this position in the first place—and for supplying her with these words in a mad panic when Katara was second-guessing their engagement and overall relationship.

Aang definitely didn’t take it well. “So what, you’re saying I manipulated her into saying yes?”

“Can’t say you didn’t look smug when she said yes in front of Haru.”

“What do you mean look? You’re blind!”

With any other person, Toph would expect a gasp and a hand over the mouth before a profuse apology. With Aang, she appreciated she could still get under his skin and make him throw his arms in the air like they’re twelve again, going over earthbending philosophy.

“Thank you,” she gushed. “I’m touched you remembered.”

She placed a hand over her heart sincerely.

Aang wasn’t happy with the conversation. In hindsight, maybe the wound was too fresh—but Toph wasn’t one to let someone else have the last word.

“Just tell me—what do you like about Sweetness? What made her, the one?” Toph asked.

She had a talent for tuning people out when they started gushing about Katara. How nice and pretty and sweetshe is. Toph’s favorite thing about Katara was how easy it was to get a rise out of her—and the ability to turn nice, pretty, and sweet into vindictive, badass, and furious.

“’Nice, pretty, sweet,’” Toph said—maybe with more monotone than intended. “I’m sure you could find a dozen or two of those in the next town alone, Twinkle Toes.”

But, Aang offered something other than the surface-level compliments about Katara’s looks and personality. Her coddling was such a given that it hardly needs to be said aloud.

He’d fallen quiet that night and offered his own vulnerability around the campfire. Aang was always in touch with his feelings—but this was something that would definitely fall into everyone else’s level of expertise before Toph. Definitely not Toph.

“When I went into the iceberg, I was running away from the monks and destiny,” he said. “I was scared. Appa and I—we should’ve died. But I woke up a hundred years later and she was holding me. I felt safe. I could look into her eyes and just know that everything was going to be okay.”

Toph only heard that tone of voice by proxy in the past. She wouldn’t admit it—but she’d felt the timbre of Aang’s voice that night. The love being mourned from a flame that burned for years. For the first time, a broken heart sounded as awful as losing friendship.

She’d whistled instead. “You’re telling me I need to stick you in an iceberg again? You’ve got high standards, Twinkle Toes.”

Aang huffed—which was a rare sound from Adult Avatar Aang Who Insisted He Was Too Old for Nicknames. “Couldn’t hurt. But I don’t think we’re going to find an iceberg south of Omashu.”

“An iceberg is the line you’re drawing for The One,” Toph reminded him. “Sokka could’ve been the lap you woke up in and you would’ve been in love with Sokka. You could’ve woken up in Momo’s arms and you would’ve been in love with Momo.”

“You’re totally ruining this. Sokka’s too tall and Momo doesn’t like to share his food.”

“Katara’s tall. You want someone shorter? I could’ve been the one to get you out of that dinky iceberg. Is that all it takes for you?”

Aang was surprisingly quiet for a good minute. Then he did something Toph hadn’t heard in the whole four weeks they’d been traveling together. Laugh. “No way that’d happen.”

The sound was so sudden that Toph didn’t have a rebuttal. She didn’t expect to feel a sudden annoyance, though. Toph takes pride in her identity after having to be the feeble, helpless blind girl for her parents. But—Katara’s looks and grace are so palpable that not even a blind person can go without noticing them. Literally. She and Suki made looking girly easy.

“What?” Toph asked after Aang settled. Hard to say whether Aang could hear her irritation.

“The last time you stepped foot in the South Pole you swore you were going to hunt me down and kill me,” he reminded her. “You couldn’t see in the snow and threatened to shove a boot down my throat.”

Ah, the week leading up to the proposal. Toph hoped to melt all the snow on Earth and burn those wildly uncomfortable fuzzy boots with it. “You remember that?”

“I asked if we could get a metal bobsled made for the wedding,” Aang confessed. “Sokka genuinely asked if we should start looking for the next Avatar.”

Toph’s nagging annoyance was forgotten in that moment. Aang sounded light, like his normal self. And her disgust for all things cold and icy very much showed on her face.

“You waking me up from an iceberg would be me signing my death warrant,” he told her. “You’d dump me before I would have the chance to like-like you.”

Trust Aang of all people to use the words, like-like at the age of sixteen. This childishness Toph could tolerate.

Plus—Aang was right. She’d sooner throw Aang in a pit of moose lions than touch snow again.

“Point made,” she insisted. “You don’t need to freeze your ass for another hundred years to find the next, The One.”

Aang didn’t always agree with her. He didn’t prescribe to her abrasiveness, and being sickeningly sweet might actually ail Toph.

“There’s no, the next The One. There’s just the one,” he insisted.

“Then Katara wasn’t it,” she punctuated. Even Toph could hear the bluntness of her words—but the conversation had somehow carried on as light as Aang’s amusement. He deflated, and they ended the conversation.

In the months they traveled together, Toph was never going to approach the problem the way Katara would, and Aang would just have to deal with it. Soul-wrenching arguments were far and few in between. Aang did his Avatar thing and played diplomat. Toph often reminded him that dirt and rocks was a lifestyle choice and that she could play diplomat as needed.

(Between occasional slipups and pummeling misogynistic dumbasses that questioned her capabilities as the Greatest Earthbender Alive.)

The cadence of their diplomacy wasn’t nearly as graceful as the Power Couple Avatar Aang and his Waterbending Master—a comment that Toph grew used to hearing—but they landed on a beat that worked for them. Aang even cracked a lame joke or two that charmed the locales and earned them fanciful stays at inns. Parents would scold their children for forgetting that the rambunctious teenager playing ball with them was also the Avatar.

After a few months of travel, Toph didn’t have to bend Aang’s arm far to loosen up. He refused to gamble—but he hugged her warmly when she won. Even more, he begged her to go easy on chumps she fought or arm-wrestled.

Toph didn’t think too much of it until they made a routine stop at Omashu to visit King Bumi and ride mail chutes.

“You’ve got a spring to your step again, Aang,” he remarked. “You must’ve tried the tall chute today. Extra windy.”

“It was awesome, Bumi,” Aang gushed. “I liked the steep gap. I had no idea where we were gonna land.”

The old fart giggled like a maniac, satisfied. “No idea? That one gets me to the market. I requested the lavatory be built, for when the leaky pees catch up with me. Don’t tell me you forgot about those.”

“Leaky pees sound new,” Aang admitted.

“Wish I didn’t hear the words leaky pees at all,” Toph grumbled.

“They’re old news with old age,” Bumi reported solemnly. “But that path’s always taken me to the market. Best shortcuts to my cabbage man.”

“Convenient,” Aang said. “Cabbage is filling—we’ll have to ride it again and pick some up on our way out of town. Katara always asked if we could just walk to market. She said one death ride was enough.”

“Sounds like boring ol’ Sugar Queen,” Toph said. “I need one of those installed at my parents’ house, old man. Sign me up.”

It took a few months—but Aang could finally hear and mention Katara’s name in conversation without turning into a tragic, mope-y hero. He spent the week of travel titillating over the mail chutes—and excitedly rattled Toph to the bone as he begged to ride him.

“Ah,” King Bumi said. “Hello, spring.”

“Toph,” she corrected him. “Don’t go senile on me too, King Bumi. One drooling old man is all I can handle.”

She pointed emphatically at Aang—who pouted. Progress.

“I said I was sorry,” he reminded. “And we’re the same age, Toph!”

“Oh,” King Bumi said gleefully. “So are we, Aang.”

To this day Toph isn’t sure what she could possibly have in common with a crazy old man that farts when he giggles and laughs when he farts—but Aang is uncoiled and relaxed with the two people that are “his age.”

“You two are betrothed?” King Bumi asked in all his elderly bluntness—after they double-teamed Aang and gave him the worst earthbending ass-kicking of a lifetime.

Aang could barely lift a spoon to eat his carrot soup. So thankfully, he didn’t choke on it when King Bumi asked. “What? No!” 

Looking back at it, Toph realizes why the comment about being Zuko’s girlfriend came so instinctively. She was used to this mistake. 

“Katara and I have only been broken up for six months,” Aang reasoned. He was especially twinkly-toed over this question. 

“We settled on murder,” Toph supplied helpfully—which King Bumi nodded solemnly too. 

“Don’t worry, springy—he’s just slow,” he said. “Took him a hundred years to land his first girlfriend.” 

Aang made some other inexplicable noise. Toph doesn’t wish for sight often—but she would’ve loved to see what face accompanied that fluster. Toph’s not sure where those two old men landed. After being reassured a romantic relationship would only end in earthbending homicide, King Bumi instructed his great-grandnephew, Kanto, to show her around town.

“Thank Agni he’s a nephew,” she said. “I worry about the woman who could keep up with your brand of crazy.”

 “Don’t be silly,” Bumi said. “Flopsie wouldn’t tolerate having to share the bed with another person. He’s a blanket hog.”

Kanto inevitably became one of those countless flings Toph liked to include when her parents questioned her honor and ladyhood. Aang was weird when they left Omashu—three days later than intended, with Toph’s promise to come back—but that could be chalked up to many things. Old age. Achey back. Senile craziness. Old school politics about a woman’s honor and blah, blah, blah.

Toph could inform him that she was very aware of the misplaced sleeping bag that meant Katara and Aang would just have to share on the few trips she did take with them after they started dating.

Or—all things considered, Bumi could’ve riled him up with a different comment about being betrothed to Springy.

And, Toph’s adventures that were Usually Not Romantic in Nature (at least not in the, I’ll Love You For the Rest of My Life kind of romantic) were none of Aang’s business anyway. She’d disappear for a few days while they had respite in a local town, and he’d ask if they were ready to go when they finally reunited. The subject was broached only once when some knucklehead didn’t get the picture that negging wasn’t flirting and he needed to Get the Fuck Away from her.

(Toph’s words. But she’s ready to commit the sound to memory if Aang ever decides to swear.)

Things were different somehow. Maybe Toph was blind to that, too—or it changed, and it didn’t bother her. There was a quiet relief after nine months of travel that Aang was getting back to his old self. Toph would be damned if their friends blamed her for making him worse.

Katara and Sokka were stunned at the first summit meeting, where the Four Nations discussed creating a community where everyone could live in harmony. Proof that war was a thing of the past. Aang spoke diplomatically, Sokka supplied fancy numbers and statistics, and Zuko promised full funding and support from the Fire Nation.

They wowed a bunch of stingy old men and Sokka cracked a dumb joke that ignited no laughter except from a Fire Lord who pretended to clear his throat. Then, they regrouped for dinner at a local hotpot restaurant—recommended by Katara’s boyfriend of two months, Haru.

Aang was polite. He cracked a few jokes and wowed other guests with his dorky marble trick. Toph caught wind of a light conversation between Sweetness and Twinkle Toes—a, “You and Haru seem happy,” and a, “You look really good.” The Fire Lord was too flustered over sharing a glass of cactus juice with Sokka—who was just being same, oblivious Sokka—to notice.

The night went on longer—and better—than expected. Katara and the rest of them were surprised to see Aang and Toph retire to the same hotel room—after being turned down for a girl sesh.

“We got in at the same time,” Aang explained.

“When are you going back to your students?” Sokka asked Toph.

“Whenever I feel like it,” Toph said. Aang had looked her way, but she didn’t think it was worth deciphering.

She was supposed to play catch-up with Teo later in the evening—but hit a roadblock when a not-so-scrawny, more-than-a-hundred-pound monk poured himself over her and practically knocked her to the bed in a ball of nerves.

Toph considered complaining—at least for Aang to move one of his bony elbows out of the way—but he needed the hug. A really, really long hug.

“She seemed happy,” he said—in a tiny, quiet voice that didn’t match the massive frame crushing Toph like a giant boulder. “Right?”

He used a rare voice that shocked Toph to even be privy to. Fragile, like glass.

Toph was hesitant to agree. “Yeah. What about you?”

The weight of his own sigh finally made Aang move to the other side of the bed. Toph feared the question might’ve killed him.

“Okay, actually,” he said. “I mean—it hurt. But it wasn’t the end of the world.”

“Cool,” Toph said. The relief poured through her. Silence was actually a rarity between them in the recent months. One of them normally did something stupid and the other always laughed on cue. She wanted to get rid of it immediately. “You could come out with me and Teo tonight. Meet Future Mrs. Aang.”

Aang didn’t laugh on cue like normal. He hummed a little, swaying his legs at the foot of the bed like a tired child. He touched his knee to Toph’s, at least as a reassurance that he wasn’t dead. The sound was soft—but all of Toph’s focus went into hearing it. “Could we just stay in tonight? Just the two of us?”

Toph’s not sure why the request struck a chord with her. Of all the friends that were currently in the hotel, he was quietly begging for her company.

She’d nudged him—the gesture so lax and normal between them these days that Toph almost forgot they spent the whole day beside Aang’s ex-fiance and girlfriend of three years. “I’ll do it for a foot massage.”

He laughed—a little more brittle than his usual candor—but Toph preferred it over a weak hum. “Bring ‘em here, Sifu T.”

In truth, Toph was only supposed to be away from her students for a month. She delayed their second semester of learning with the intent of leaving when Aang was in a better headspace—and then it just kept getting kicked further down the road.

Eventually, classes with her metalbending students just included Avatar Aang as a spectator in the background and happy-go-lucky dummy that dodged metal coins and let Toph pummel him into the ground. The students never really got over the ooh-ing and aah-ing of the Avatar, so Toph would send Aang on errands to get something more edible than pine nuts.

Her students often went on their own path, and Toph went back to Aang. They had a partnership that even made it past the year mark—the day Aang and Katara finally broke up. Aang thought it’d be cool to a swamp. The swamp, he called it.

Toph expected Aang to be depressed and mopey on the anniversary of his breakup—but he was sincere months ago. He was okay.

Adventures with Twinkle Toes were always unpredictable, but this one took the cake. They had occasional treks where the goal wasn’t to help someone—it was just an outing between the two of them, where they’d meander about and get accosted by adults who were suspicious of rambunctious kids.

It served as a reminder of the old days, where Aang would use the title of Avatar as a flex. Toph always made fun of him for taking an extra bow and channeling his inner old man.

Toph didn’t consider herself a spiritual person. Her parents used to pray every night that the spirits heal her eyes—so all that mumbo jumbo left a pour taste in her mouth. Stepping foot on murky soul felt…intimate.

Like the embodiment of the entire universe had thrown itself through her body, and insisted that she savored every sense. Her breath was coaxed by the swamp’s breath. The swamp thrived because humans and spirits thrived.

“Whoa,” Toph had said. Her knees buckled—and Aang caught her without second thought.

“You okay?” he asked her. His grip was firm. Definitely not bony or scrawny. She could feel his frame around him, and sense the swampy air that blanketed them. Him. Twinkle Toes.  Aang.

“Overstimulated,” Toph admitted—something she wouldn’t have easily said a year ago. “But it’s still better than stupid snow.”

Aang laughed—but his arm lingered longer out of concern. 

He kept an arm wrapped around her as she adjusted to to the swamp—to the damp soil and rich marshes. Critters nibbled at her feet as they trekked the grounds. Appa was apprehensive—but Aang reassured him they landed on their own accord instead of mystic forces this time. 

Toph vaguely recalled the swampbenders that helped during the eclipse. They were a fun, zany bunch who welcomed Aang and the missus with open arms. Aang reacted like he usually did as of late—bashful while relaying to everyone that Toph and he were not dating. 

“Then we’re sure as heck honored to host your first date,” said one of them. “Tell your friends about us.” 

“Thanks,” Toph said. She hooked an arm into Aang’s to stop him from a long-winded response. Twinkle Toes knew how to ramble when given the soap box. 

They trudged through wet dirt and moist earth. Each time the soles of Toph’s feet made contact with the ground, she felt something different. The vast forest that blanketed the swamp. The animals—physical and spiritual in nature, and bugs that climbed the bark and lived their whole lives in a hole sequestered in the dirt. 

She saw her parents. Lao and Poppy Beifong hosting one of their many boring parties, boasting about their beautiful blind daughter who overcame her disability and became the Greatest Earthbender in the World. 

(Toph was still training them on how she wanted to be addressed—but at least they knocked it off with feeble.)

She saw Katara and Haru entertaining a group of kids in the Earth Kingdom, maintaining a quiet intimacy between them. 

Suki, holding training with her warriors and a chipper Ty Lee by her side. 

Zuko, smiling with Sokka’s approval and shoulders tall like the high warmth of sunrise—and Sokka dangling over the Fire Lord long enough to soak in his infectious laughter. 

The scope of her seismic sense alone could never reach the four corners of the earth. Not to this depth. The tales of Avatars before Aang conceived her worry about friendships transcending lifetimes. Aang brought her to the one place where she could see every friendship she’d made ever since they met on the arena of Earth Rumble Six—when her life beyond a small, feeble little girl began. 

“Kinda weird to be with you here,” Aang admitted. 

Night had fallen. They set up camp in a cave, where the warmth of the campfire radiated off walls. It wasn’t until they settled in for the evening that Toph realized she was still holding onto Aang’s arm—a default when she needed a guide on an earthless surface. There was no need for it here in the swamp—not when Aang brought her to a place where she could see everything. 

“Can’t say it’s the worst first date I’ve ever been on,” Toph remarked. 

Aang laughed—and there shouldn’t be any hidden meaning tied to those words. At this point they’d been mistaken for a couple more often than not with each town visited. Leaning into it was the quickest way to get a rise out of Aang—especially when the wound of his breakup was still fresh.. 

Toph heard the story before. Aang saw her in a vision with a flying boar. He chased her across the marshlands to no avail—a premonition of how their first, real meeting was supposed to go. She was playing hard to get before they even knew each other. Toph rebuked Aang was playing hard to get rid of. 

“I heard you before I saw you,” Aang said. Out of the five years of their friendship, Toph hadn’t heard him recount the story like this. “I was so confused why someone would be in a dirty swamp of all places.” 

“Sounds like you didn’t know me as well as you thought you did, Twinkle Toes.” 

Aang snorted—which followed with a snicker. “Yeah, now. You were just this pretty girl dressed all fancy like a doll. And you sounded so happy. It’s how I knew you were supposed to be the one when we met you.” 

Toph’s ears perked at that—but the hiccup was only slight. 

“My earthbending teacher, I mean.” Aang could go a long time without needing to catch his breath or getting winded. If Toph didn’t know him so well—even better, after they started this journey together—then she wouldn’t have questioned it. 

She bit the inside of her mouth. Aang once told her that she’d never been in love. That she couldn’t know what heartbreak was like. From what she’d seen of her friends, it didn’t seem worth the trouble. This was the opposite end of the spectrum. A giddiness at the back of her throat that she avoided feeding. If she avoided acknowledging it—if they never placed a word, or gave it a physical existence, then they could both turn a blind eye to it. 

Heartbreak looked shitty. Toph hated feeling like the useless, feeble little girl that made her parents live in denial. Her starting point with Aang was the other end of a battle arena, where he knew her as the Blind Bandit first—and insisted on finding the rest of her. 

To Aang, it was this swamp. Pretty, fancy, happy doll didn’t hurt her pride the way small and scared could. It was definitely not a compliment she allowed from the boys that sought her attention, either. 

(Which, admittedly, wasn’t worth her time these days.) 

She elbowed him in the not-scrawny arm. He yelped. “You got something to say, Twinkle Toes?” 

Aang nursed his arm, still not used to the quick swipe after all these years—but he laughed, almost as warm as the fire itself. “Yeah, T. Thank you for traveling with me this whole time. I don’t think I’d be who I am today without you.” 

Gross, mushy stuff. 

“Same, you know,” Toph said. 

She didn’t need sight to know Aang was looking at her. These days, she was aware of Aang looking at her with not a word exchanged between. She’d bluntly asked if she had something sticking out of her nose and he’d sputter and say no. Sometimes he’d request to dust something out of her hair. 

She punched him in the arm and he yelped again. 

A breathy chuckle followed in suit. “Love you too, Sifu T.” 

He poured them both juice, gifted from the last village past where Toph charmed the shop owner as two, young and nervous love birds. Aang was normally too flustered to go along with the bit—but he didn’t complain about the rewards. 

“To the future,” Aang said. They toasted by clinking together wooden cups. “Our future.” 

The gravitas was there again in Aang’s voice. 

Toph felt a familiar flutter in her chest. She often equated it to the flying boar stomping and oinking around her rib cage—one that squealed when Aang was near. 

It was never a bad feeling. A scary one, maybe—like wandering around without a comforting surface beneath her feet. Aang always defaulted to guiding her with an arm ready. 

She clinked her own wooden cup back. “To our future.” 

*

Aang must’ve slipped some cactus juice into their dinner. Toph later realized it was a vision. Not the past, like Sokka and Katara once told her about. Not the present, where the swamp allowed her to see more clearly than she could in her lifetime. 

The future. 

She could hear her own voice off in the distance, complaining to her mother that the fitting was taking longer than promised. Her mother assured the modiste simply needed to find the right-colored fabric to craft the right wedding shoes. 

“Doesn’t matter,” she heard herself saying. “I’m not wearing them. You can’t see my feet anyway.”

Her mother protested as the many servants around her hastened in taking measurements for her wedding hanbok. “It’s part of the process!” 

“My process involves bare feet,” Toph snapped. 

At this age—whatever it was supposed to be—Poppy Beifong didn’t protest. She was never as vocal as Toph’s father, anyway—and she understood how to compromise. “I suppose we can make do with the appearance of shoes.” 

Toph made a face. 

“No shoes,” Mom promised. “I’ll request the painter to add them on the wedding portrait instead.” 

“You can use whatever gold you’re saving to buy your own nice wedding shoes,” Toph pointed out. 

“Ooh,” her mother pleasantly said. 

Toph would later twist Aang’s arm about all the wedding planning—

About how she must really love him to willingly go through all this pomp and circumstance. 

Toph saw herself at the altar with Aang, where the gravitas of his voice could be felt in his pulse. In his grip over her hand—so strong, and sturdy, and warm that she was able to soften in his presence. 

(But only for a second. One of her vows was just shaking him by that perfect, bald head.) 

Their visit to the swamp wouldn’t be their only visit. Aang marked it as an important milestone in their relationship. Their friendship, which the marshes breathed life into before they ever met. 

Toph had been exhausted. Any amount of bending resulted in a need for a nap. Three, sometimes four in a day. She didn’t have an appetite, nor the patience for many things. She was too stubborn to see a doctor—and even angrier at the thought of her fatigue limiting her desire to travel. 

Aang stayed by her side—and the Avatar refused to travel until his wife agreed to see a doctor. His earthbending master’s rebuttal, of course, was that she’d only see one doctor. 

Katara—who graciously told Toph that she was pregnant. That Aang and she were expecting. 

Toph told him on their anniversary—sequestered in the warmth of a cave in the swamp where their paths first crossed. 

After a hundred years, the Air Nomads would finally have another descendent. 

Aang was in tears, awed, overjoyed—all the words that always described her emotional, happy-go-lucky baldy—but he punctuated his excitement by holding her at the waist. 

“You’re gonna be a mommy,” he said tearfully. “I’m gonna be a daddy, Sifu T!” 

She miscarried a week later.

Aang once told her that she didn’t know the pain of heartbreak. Toph didn’t know it could hurt—not to this degree. Not in bed, with a sharp pain in her stomach that resulted in too much blood loss. Too much pain, both physical and emotional. 

Toph complained plenty that she didn’t understand how something the size of a pebble could cause her so much discomfort. In the moment, she wished she’d never complained at all. 

Poppy Beifong admitted her own difficulties conceiving. Difficulties during pregnancy. Toph was their only daughter, perfect in every way (she apologized for ever thinking her daughter’s blindness was ever a flaw), and they wouldn’t risk another heartbreak. 

Toph had conquered several scary things in her lifetime, but she never truly felt blind until she didn’t know what could happen to the fate of their unborn child. She could do everything right and the spirits could still say it wasn’t time. 

Aang held her with each excitement, and each frustration. Each devastating, traumatic moment. 

They’d eventually have their firstborn son. Bumi Beifong, named after the old kook himself. Their loud, free-spirited nonbending son. He had both his parents’ mischief and quick wit—with a boisterous personality that shined brightly with every finicky footstep. He aided his mother in reminders that she was blind to forgetful idiots—and when he laughed, it was with his father’s cadence. 

Lin came next, after taking every possible step and following all of the old wives’ tales to conceive and have a safe pregnancy. She had her father’s serious nature and understood the tragic history of their people—of the Air Nomads. 

Aang was a loving—but anxious father. One that held the responsibility of rebuilding a nation on his shoulders. 

At the age of four, Lin Beifong was upset that making a metal coin spin was not replicating her father’s marble trick. 

Toph knew too well what it was like to be born different from her parents’ expectations. For all the stress and frustration, she wouldn’t allow her husband to brush over two children who very much loved their father. They could only be themselves—and it wasn’t a flaw. 

It was always going to be their dynamic. When Aang was upset, she pushed until he pushed back. But this wasn’t a combative fight—this was their life as husband and wife, and as a mother and father. They chose each other. 

During their wedding, Sokka had delivered a punch-worthy speech. 

In her words, Sokka said, a scrawny vegetarian baldy that Toph knows how to make act his age. 

They’d laughed at his speech, which followed with too-tearful words about how proud he was of watching both of them grow. 

As man and wife, and father and mother. Aang wouldn’t forgive himself for being an absentee father. 

Their third pregnancy was unexpected—especially after too many complications with the first two. Toph wasn’t one who enjoyed being bedridden—not after founding the pro-bending tournaments as a successor to Earth Rumble 6. 

Pregnancy was the only time Toph was willing to listen to her husband—to slow down and mitigate past, haunting risks. 

Suyin showed her airbending prowess at the age of two, when she unleashed a sneeze so powerful that it knocked aside their dining table. The kitchen was left a mess—but the entire family cheered, and little Su would throw a tiny fist in the air and follow in suit. 

Su would go on to have her father’s spirited nature and her mother’s rebellious streak. She lacked her older sister’s determination for tradition—and often butted heads with their father. Toph joked often that their youngest daughter was easy to pin down as the wind. 

Aang loved all three of his children equally. Su for her free spirit, Bumi for his antics, and Lin—for when he needed a reminder of his sanity. 

When time came to prove her mastery of airbending, Lin and Bumi shaved their heads in solidarity with their fifteen-year-old sister. Their sister hugged them both, touched. 

“You look so ugly,” she told them tearfully—which was met with unabashed teasing and shaking—all resulting from a household filled with love and joy. 

Bumi would go on to work for the United Forces—in order to bring peace like his parents before him. Lin founded the Republic City Police Force, to uphold the law in the town her father passionately wanted to bring peace after the war.

Suyin was the first of many airbenders to come. 

Aang and Toph would live long enough to witness the birth of their first grandsons, Baatar Jr. and Huan. Aang would have the privilege of walking their youngest daughter down the aisle, shortly before she announced her third pregnancy. 

In his last few weeks, he’d be able to hold his newborn granddaughter. He’d marvel at holding the world in his arms—tearful as he’d been with every grandson and child before. 

“She looks just like you,” he’d tell Toph. 

“Old and wrinkly?” She’d crack—always to balance him out. 

It would be a long time before Bumi realized his own prowess—far after Aang’s time, he’d find himself as an airbender—but it would be his sisters who would remind him how proud Aang was, with or without bending. 

The decision was difficult for Lin—but her siblings reminded her of their mother’s words. If she was fearful of telling Toph or Aang anything, then they didn’t do a good job giving her a space to express herself. She didn’t want kids. She wanted a peaceful life with her childhood love, Kya. 

They supported each other, after prospering in a household that encouraged their individuality and to act their age. 

On the anniversary of their father’s passing, they would come to the swamp to reunite with their mother—a spirit in her own right, who found freedom when their father needed her. 

Even in old age, the swamp would allow Toph to see the world that her parents feared would leave her in the dark. 

It was one scrawny baldy who encouraged her to become more. 

*

The morning after was silent. Toph didn’t mention the vision. Aang didn’t have to. 

They’d grown accustomed to sleeping close to each other—to huddle for warmth in cold evenings. It only made sense. Now it felt weird—like there was an unspoken weight between them, as heavy as the hardest boulders and invisible as the wind.

Aang told her the swamp told them stories about people from the past, and from the future. Toph’s vision felt so real that she could feel the silk from her wedding hanbok, and the first flutters of kicks in her third trimester. 

She could feel Aang’s arms around her on their wedding day, tightly fastened around her with a three letter word uttered closely in her ear. That night, and every night until he passed peacefully in his sleep. 

She didn’t know what to think of it. 

And—she didn’t know if Aang knew what to think, either. She had a guess or two. 

Or three. Followed by at least three airbending grandchildren in a very fertile household, securing the rebirth of the Air Nomads. The boy in the iceberg who lost his first love would find it again, in his wife, in his children, and his grandchildren. He closed his eyes for the last time, hopeful for the future. 

They didn’t talk until Aang finished loading Appa’s saddle. Aang had an arm fastened around Toph’s waist—in the normal process of getting her atop his flying bison. 

“Uh,” Aang said, his voice still thick with the morning’s drowsiness. “You have any crazy visions?” 

She could hear his heart pounding. Anticipating. Anticipating what, Toph didn’t want to put a name to. She didn’t know if she should, or if she wanted to. Or if it’s something she should want. 

“My mom tried to get me to wear shoes,” Toph lamented wryly. “Not sure what kind of life-changing experience it was supposed to be. Your swamp might be busted.” 

Aang laughed nervously. Brittle, and awkward. 

Toph was nervous to ask her own question. “You?” 

“Uh, no,” Aang lied. Lied. 

She could hear his pulse quicken. Moreover, Aang was a lousy liar to begin with. 

She wasn’t sure what Aang saw, if they saw the same thing, or something different—but for the first time, her best friend was avoiding the truth. 

“You’re right,” he said. “The swamp must be busted.” 

There was a long pause between them. One where he awaited her answer, and Toph anticipated Twinkle Toes to be an annoying chatterbox. It didn’t happen. 

They talked less, moving forward. 

Aang’s skirting glances became more. He treated her delicately, and acted odder when mistaken as a couple. Toph didn’t care—wouldn’t—if it wasn’t so damn annoying. 

Toph didn’t realize how much she came to appreciate how close she and Aang had become after a year of traveling together. The gentle nudges, the soft laughter that begged for more. 

Maybe they were supposed to fall in love. To be together. But it didn't necessarily mean either of them wanted it. 

Even if it was the first time in her seventeen years that Toph thought, this doesn’t seem so bad. 

Twinkle Toes once told her that she didn’t know what it was like to fall in love. She couldn’t relate to his heartbreak. 

But she wondered if it was worth it. 

If Aang had a vision—let alone the same vision, he lied about it. 

And if he lied about it, maybe he didn’t want it. 

Otherwise they were treading this incredibly annoying line where Toph suspected he’d try to get on one knee when she least expected it to lead to their three children, three-going-on-five airbending grandchildren, and so on. 

It wouldn’t come up again until six months later. Halfway through their second year of partnership. 

They made a stop at Makapu Village. Aang encouraged her—maybe more forcefully than she should have allowed—to seek out the village fortune teller. 

Toph knew their type. Her parents would often hire a fortune teller as entertainment for their many galas and parties. She entertained Aang’s thought to see Aunt Wu—only because it was the most animated he’d been since their outing at the swamp. 

Aunt Wu genuinely seemed to believe her own fortunes, as vague as they were. Toph was a wanderer, she said. A nomad in her own right who was an immovable force. She met her match a long time ago—and they always let her set the pace. Her lifetime partner would do the same, should she choose to have one. 

Vague, vague, vague, and vague. 

Toph thanked her for her time. She just didn’t expect to come out to Aang flirting with a girl. The girl giggled a lot, her heart rate was high. She was obviously eager to see Aang. 

Toph—didn’t know what to think, actually. Aang came to greet her shortly after. She learned the girl’s name was Meng, an old friend. Aang was catching up with her. And for some reason, he was nervous. 

“Meng wants to get drinks later,” he said. 

“Monks drink?” Toph asked. 

“It’s just tea,” Aang reassured. “Is…that okay?” 

She could hear his heart palpations, like the day after the swamp. “Why wouldn’t it be?” 

Aang swallowed hard—maybe disappointed. Maybe not. Maybe he never saw what Toph did. Maybe he didn’t want that life, with her. 

“Uh, I dunno I guess.” Aang rubbed his bald head sheepishly. “Don’t stay up too late, okay, Sifu T?” 

“Who knows. I might find a date of my own, Twinkle Toes.” 

“Huh,” Aang said. 

His reaction was as empty as Toph’s own. 

As Toph went to their in  for the night, she didn’t bother waiting up for Aang. 

She left. 

*

In present day, three months after her departure and unofficial long reprieve in Ba Sing Se—two weeks after her modest proposal to Fire Lord Sparky, Toph finds herself at the Fire Nation capital, already making waves. 

Zuko introduces her to the Fire Sages as his intended. Toph daintily fell into his arms and recited woefully how thankful she was to have someone as hot and great in the sac like Fire Lord Zuko to fall in love with. 

(The Fire Sages did not appreciate that sense of humor.) 

One stuffy old fart asked if her blindness was hereditary. 

Toph assured him loudly her ears still worked, no matter how quietly he whispered. 

(Then Zuko fired him.) 

Toph requested the room in the palace with the best view. One of the attendees asked if she was joking, and Toph complimented their ability to recognize good humor. 

She attended meetings, introduced as the Royal Lady who intended to scribe. After a muffled snicker and a grumble of concern from more stuffy old men, Toph informed her fiancé of two men who intended to stage a coup. 

Overall, the dynamic of the palace had shifted, and they’d both have gossip to unload on Iroh the next time they saw him.

Toph and Zuko spent nights playing paisho and drinking tea. Then they’d go their separate ways when their evening was over. According to Zuko, there was a complaint of a lack of privacy because of the lady-in-waiting. Zuko informed them the best remedy would be to make a better impression with his fiancée, rather than insulting her. 

Toph had cackled at that one. “You’re spicy, Fire Lord.” 

Zuko shrugs—in much better spirits than when their outings began. Then he sounds dreadful. “I don’t think we can get away with a small ceremony. They think a wedding is a great way to celebrate the new era.” 

Toph groans. “Tell me about it. My parents have been flexing to half the Earth Kingdom.” 

Zuko is hesitant. And like every evening, he asks, “Are you really okay with this?” 

Toph, as always, says, “I’ve got nothing on my calendar.” 

“Still, it’s a big commitment, Toph. Surely you don’t see yourself with me for the rest of your life.” 

“Hate to break it to you, Sparky, but I don’t see anything.” Toph waves a hand in front of her face for emphasis. “Sugar Queen got her panties in a bunch over it. Suki wonders how I bagged you.” 

“What about Sokka?” 

Toph frowns. “I thought you were going to tell him.” 

She feels Zuko’s heart skip a beat—then hasten in pace. 

“Well,” Zuko says. “Um.” 

“You could just marry Sokka,” she points out. She briefly wonders if firebenders can shoot flames from the face, because the table is noticeably hotter. “Nothing stopping you.” 

Zuko clears his throat like a dignitary. “There are rules in place. The Fire Sages wouldn’t allow it.” 

“Change the rules then,” Toph says. “You’re the boss.” 

She doesn’t need to see Zuko to know he looks uncomfortable. “It has to go through a channel of checks and balances.” 

“No it doesn’t.” Toph frowns. “You’re literally a monarch. You run a monarchy.” 

Zuko makes another sound. It’s a squirm. His paisho pieces are a mess in his hands. “I don’t know if he likes me back.” 

“Make a law for that, too.” 

He groans, his hands on his face. “Why do you even know about this?” 

“Because I have two eyes and a pulse.” 

“You can’t tell, but I’m giving you a very judgmental look right now.” 

“Sparky, a judgmental look is my default expectation from you.” 

Zuko makes another sound—one of defeat—while Toph takes the last laugh. 

She offers her cup as Zuko raises the teapot, then leans into her hand. “Seriously, Sparky. Is it worth all the pomp and circumstance of going through a wedding with me, a woman, when there’s someone out there you already love?”

Toph can tell he’s burning in embarrassment again. It’s no surprise, given Momo’s better at expressing himself than Zuko is, but she considers him an honorable man. Sokka and she once made a drinking game based on how often Zuko could utter the word.

(Neither one really remembers the night.)

She also knows that somewhere in that awkward mess is an even more awkward, insightful young man that Iroh has nurtured to speak his mind and has spoken wonders about.

“Short of some crazy fad that says man shall not lie with man, I see no issues for you,” Toph points out. “Surely there were other Firelords that had male lovers—”

“It’s not that,” Zuko says, his mental tea kettle finally spent and boiling over. “I don’t see myself with secret lovers and concubines for the rest of my life like you do. Sokka is an important person for me. I didn’t necessarily have a lot of friends that Azula didn’t try to brainwash and manipulate.”

He makes an odd hand gesture that Toph can’t decipher, but judging from the pace of his tone, it’s weathered exasperation toward his psychotic sister in hand-form.

“Then I was in a bad headspace because of my father. And the whole, hunting the Avatar thing.”

“That does seem like an impressionable part of your life, yes,” Toph agrees.

Zuko heaves a tired sigh and props one hand beneath his cheek. “Being welcomed by the group wasn’t instantaneous. I burned your feet by accident. I needed to do right by past transgressions. With Aang and Katara. Sokka just…kind of accepted things would be the way they were, awkward me and all.”

“You are pretty awkward,” she says helpfully.

 Zuko huffs in a dignified matter. “I don’t intend to make a royal decree to get a man I’m in love with. My mother was forcefully wed to my father. It’s not the foot I want to start on with my next relationship.”

“How’d you bag Little Miss Sunshine?”

“She liked me first.” Zuko clears his throat, dragging a paisho piece across the board in an exaggerated fashion. “Being the prince of the Fire Nation didn’t hurt my chances, either.”

Toph snorts.

“What about you?” he asks. “What are you running away from?”

“Pass. Let’s set a date.”

That, of course, invites Zuko’s further inquiry. “Really. You’d rather set a date for this sham of a wedding than explain to me why you’re willing to go through with this?”

“You’d rather dishonorably have a sham wedding than tell Sokka you’re in love with him?”

There’s a hitch in Zuko’s breath. Then an exhale, followed by wholehearted exasperation.

“Fair point,” he agrees. “Let’s set a date.”

*

In a lot of ways, Toph realizes her relationship—friendship—with Aang parallels Zuko’s struggles with Sokka. Aang was her first friend. The first person who saw through the guise of the scared little girl her parents made her out to be, and the Blind Bandit—the corner she believed would leave her content.

It’s not a door she considered opening when she was young. One—Aang was a friend, and two—she just wanted to kick ass. Aang was very much smitten with Sweetness and—while Toph harbored a maybe-too-big crush on Sokka at the time, she’d learned quickly she’d never be more than another little sister to him.

Like most firsts in her life, Toph’s love life was something she’d figure out herself—no help needed or wanted. And she was pretty good at it.

To have Aang in the mix though—that first friend who saw her potential when her own parents couldn’t—just felt…weird.

But having Aang—notorious Twinkle Toes, who proposed to his girlfriend at least twice before the ripe age of eighteen for all the airheaded reasons—not even acknowledge something had changed between them since the evening in the swamp felt worse.

And, hey—maybe it was the alcohol talking, but getting off the market might just get Twinkle Toes to act normal again.

There’s no support backing her theory, but Toph doesn’t have evidence that things won’t go back to normal if she forces it. At the very least, she’s having a fun time scaring the Fire Sages.

She promised her first decree as Fire Lady would be to have them address her as the Melon Lord.

(“Akin to the Phoenix King?” asked one man with a sense of humor on the court, to which Toph graciously replied,

“Even better. The Lord of Melons and all things fruit-bearing.”)

They set a date for the wedding—a month from the evening conversation that plays over-and-over in Toph’s mind.

Sure—the longer they traveled together, the more her feelings might have festered. But even if she weren’t to call Aang’s bluff about not having a swamp vision, he made it very clear that he would much rather spend an evening with that Meng girl than her.

So fuck that weirdness. Toph was the one who told him not to fall for the first girl he saw, and he might’ve actually listened to her. If anything, she should congratulate him for getting over six months of awkwardness on the road with her and finally finding some other girl.

Other, she’d lament in her evenings in her large bed. Whatever.

Putting her foot down with this wedding would get them back to normal.

Except—two weeks before the wedding, Aang proved that they very, very much would not be.

*

“You’re getting MARRIED?!”

The exclaimation comes in the middle of the day, where Toph is taking respite in her newly, self-constructed rock-and-metal garden used for sparring matches. 

First—something chirps and chatters as it lands on her shoulder in the middle of sparring some poor firebending soul.

“Momo?” she asks—which is rewarded with an affectionate nuzzle and the immediate rummage for fruit and nuts on Toph’s person.

Then, a blast of wind invites an unintended sandstorm, followed by the low, familiar rumble of one flying bison. Appa lands on the ground with a terrifying quake that would knock any other bender off their feet.

Shortly after that, Aang has made it to the ground on his twinkly little toes, waving his arms animatedly in her face. With the aforementioned yelling.

“Twinkle Toes!” she greets without flinching. The poor firebending grunt has long scrambled away with a stammer of, t-t-the A-Avat-t-tar!! “You get the wedding invite?” 

She can take a guess that Aang’s face has changed—twisting in offense at the audacity of her blasé tone.

“Worse,” he snaps. “I have to find out from a flier at a news outlet in Gaoling on the way to see your parents!”

“A flier?” Toph reaches out, where Aang is predictably waving around said piece of paper. “How’d they capture my likeness?”

“Very manly! Like the play!” Aang snatches the paper out of her hand adamantly. And again, he repeats himself. “You’re getting married?!”

Toph wipes a spray of spit off her face. “Yeah, you’re invited. Were you worried?”

“Why in the blue spirit are you marrying Zuko?!” 

“Is there a problem?”

“‘Is there a problem?’” He repeats, voice melodic and melodramatic. “You left me at Makapu Village and didn’t say a word! The innkeeper told me you packed up in the middle of the night and said it was none of his business!”

“You fly all the way here mad? Isn’t that like a week’s journey?”

Admittedly, Toph feels a bit of guilt at the crack in his voice.

“Toph,” he says, the slight crevasse of his voice digging into her own chest. “You left me in the middle of the Earth Kingdom. No note, no hint that you were planning on leaving me!”

She keeps a straight line against her lips. “You know I can’t write notes.”

Toph is used to being an immovable mountain for Aang’s tantrums. He either blows up or lets things pass. But in that year and a half of travel, she’s rubbed off on Aang. He doesn’t hold any of his frustration back.

“You’re deflecting,” he prompts. “Because of what happened at the swamp.”

The moment he says that, Toph’s jaw tightens. She struggles to keep her composure, and instead, raises her head.

“What happened at the swamp?” she dares him to answer.

It’s in that moment where there’s a hitch in Aang’s anger. A gap in this coiled up frustration that brewed a storm on the week’s trip to the Fire Nation. Toph can’t see his face, but she knows her own. She holds her head high as she always did when they were young.

“You and me,” he says slowly—but no less heated. “We—we’re supposed to—”

“Aang!” Zuko’s voice echoes to the metal-rock garden, and Toph exhales the frustrated breath that’s festered in her throat.

Aang’s shoulders fall with a heavy heave of his own. He stands more dignified, with a calm and cool demeanor. “Zuko.”

His voice teeters in hostility. Toph isn’t sure what to make of it—but she wishes she had a bag of fire flakes ready. Then—Aang and Zuko share a cordial hug.

“I would’ve asked the servants to prepare a room for you if I knew you were coming,” Zuko says. “The wedding is still a few weeks away, though. Any particular reason you’re here so early?”

Aang turns to Toph—probably to flash a judgmental look—then turns back to Zuko. “Actually, I heard the news and decided to come early to celebrate the happy couple. It’s the event of a century. Surely the Avatar can help out with preparations for his two best friends.”

He uses a sugary-sweet voice that shouldn’t work so well at eighteen. Aang’s voice has long dropped into a light, but charming tenor.

“Oh,” Zuko says—and there’s definitely something weird about his voice too. Toph could see it from a mile away. “Of course, Aang. Do you plan to stick around the full two weeks?”

“Of course,” Aang says. “You have to let me officiate, Sifu Hotman.”

Toph can feel Zuko’s resolve wither with each word. She rolls her eyes and gathers to her feet. “Well, while you show Twinkle Toes his quarters for the next two weeks, I’m going to go freshen up for dinner with my parents.”

“They’re here too?” Aang asks, surprised.

“Sure are.” Toph gives Zuko a warm elbow job. “See you at dinner, schnookums.”

*

In a mean-spirited déjà vu, Poppy Beifong arrives with a garish hanbok and insists the servants scrub every inch of her free of dirt. Toph combats this by requesting her evening mud bath shortly when her mother expresses need to use the powder room.

“My, how beautiful you are,” she coos as she insists on brushing her hair. The boar-bristle brush glides against Toph’s scalp with ease. “When did my little girl bloom into such a beautiful young woman?”

There’s a lump that swells in Toph’s throat—ready to combat with a snide remark. It’s a frustrating desire—but Toph learned a long time ago that no matter how detached she desired to be from this fragile image her parents had of her, winning her parents’ approval would always mean the world to her.

“Around the time these popped up, I guess,” Toph says. She gestures to her chest.

Her mother gasps at the scandalous comment—but then bats her with the back side of the brush lightly. “So you’ve chosen the Fire Lord as your betrothed.”

The corners of Toph’s lips twitch into a smile. Her mother’s careful wording doesn’t go unnoticed. “I had an opening in my calendar.”

“Quite a surprise,” Mom admits. “Your father and I’ve given up trying to understand your schedule. You’ve been off galivanting with Aang for so long now.”

It’s telling when her mother’s dropped the Avatar from addressing Twinkle Toes. Toph thinks back to Aang’s flurry of words only a few hours prior. “Do you know what he stopped in Gaoling for?”

“Yes. To ask for your hand in marriage.”

Toph whips around so hard that the brush gets stuck in her hair. “What?”

“At least I believe that’s why. He came into the estate fuming about the fliers instead.” Mom reaches and grabs a piece of paper from the vanity. “It looks like they may have put Fire Lord Zuko’s scar on the other side, darling.”

“I wouldn’t know either way.”

“And your visage.” Mom stares at the flier more closely. “You’re quite masculine.”

“And don’t you forget it.” Toph snorts. She crosses her arms over the jeogori—which her mom takes time to admire.

“I suppose I should be grateful that you never had an issue with the ensembles we bought you. I never had to fight you to dress elegantly.”

“The rough and tumble is a choice and lifestyle.” Toph is grateful that the days of “needing help” to get dressed (at the insistence of her parents) are behind her. She has no frame of reference for how she looks. And, she recalled, getting Aang’s opinion before her dates in their various villages was something she skirted.

Toph hesitates, though.

“Dad and you,” she asks, “you’re really okay with what Fire Lord Sparky and I are doing?”

Poppy Beifong snorts—and the sound is so foreign that Toph almost wonders if she made it herself. “Darling, I haven’t been able to tell you what to do since you were twelve years old and ran away from home.”

She says it with a wryness that makes Toph smile.

“This string of suitors your father insists upon—” Her mother stops, then manages to wiggle the brush out of her hair. “—there was never a doubt in my mind they wouldn’t be good enough for you. Now he gets to hold his head high and brag that not only did his daughter teach the Avatar earthbending, but she caught the eye of royalty. The mother in me is just grateful that you’ve found someone that cares about you deeply. That matters more to me than status.”

Toph sits a little taller in her seat.

“But I do like bragging to my hanafuda club,” she reassures. “First—the Avatar, now the Fire Lord! My baby has good taste!”

Toph throws her head back with a satisfying laugh, while her mother insists on arranging her head piece. She can’t help the nagging in the back of her head now that her mother has put it in her mind. “What would you have said if Aang did ask for my hand in marriage?”

“Would it matter?” Her mother asks, genuinely. “You’re headstrong, dear. You’ll always do what you want, first.”

Toph mulls over her mother’s words. To her surprise, it doesn’t leave her dissatisfied. “I’m glad you understand, Mom.”

She just wishes Aang did, too.

*

“Can you clue me in why Aang is so upset?” Zuko asks in the hallway before the royal dining hall. His confusion is very clear. “I just spent an hour trying to calm him down and when we were getting to the root of the problem, he stormed off on an air scooter.”

“Beats me,” Toph says innocently.

It’s at that point that she can tell that Zuko’s figured out he’s in the middle of something he did not sign up for. He has an arm extended for her, but is probably flashing a look of default suspicion and judgment. “Does this have to do with why we’re engaged?”

“Dunno. But I’m not the one avoiding telling someone that I’m hopelessly in love with him.”

She expects Zuko to glide with the next step into the dining hall, but his frown and disappointment are palpable.

“You’re being very mean right now,” he points out.

Toph frowns. Rude, she does on purpose. Tease, she’s made a game of in her early teens. Intentionally mean is not something she wants to be. “Let’s just say that I made a move, and he’s not happy with the outcome. Does that work for you?”

She underestimated how much Zuko values Aang’s opinion. When she tries to move, he’s as still as a rock once more. “He’s not happy about the engagement?”

“Neither was Katara. Political marriages happen all the time, Sparky. It’s either you or my dad’s going to try an upsell a modest farm boy to me again.”

“I’m the better option?”

Toph could laugh at the genuineness in Zuko’s question. She jabs him in the arm instead. “I chose you, didn’t I?”

“Ow.”

For no one of importance, one of the servants announces the arrival of each party member. The patriarch and matriarch of the Beifong family. The Fire Lord and his intended, Lady Melon Lord. Avatar Aang.

Toph hears his footsteps seize at the entrance of the hall. Aang is looking directly at her—and while she can’t determine how he’s looking at her, she can tell it takes longer than usual for Aang to exhale.

They all make it to the table. Poppy Beifong embraces Aang warmly and Lao Beifong shakes his hand. They bow to Zuko, and then everyone is ushered to be seated while dinner is being served.

“Please,” Zuko says. “Speak freely here. We’ll be family soon.”

Her parents nod understandingly—obediently, and relax ever-so slightly.

“I was just telling my husband how long it’s been since our last dinner, Aang,” Mom says pleasantly. “What has it been? Six? Seven months?”

“Eight, Poppy. Sorry about that.” Aang sits straight at his chair—which is never a good thing. “Last I remember, Lao, you were talking up a banker who was interested in Toph, weren’t you? Whatever happened to him?”

“I recall you and Toph convinced him that she had a disease that made her head fall off with no warning,” Dad says. His tone of voice holds a similar wryness to Zuko’s. Zuko, in turn, looks in his fiance’s direction in surprise and confusion.

“She’s a trickster, Sifu Hotman,” Aang says. “You ready for that?”

His tone’s as threatening as Momo when someone’s stolen the last peach.

“I had no idea the Beifong family and Aang were so close—let alone on a first-name basis,” Zuko remarks.

“Oh, quite close,” Mom assures. “Every time they’re near Gaoling they always visit. I assumed they were still traveling together until Aang showed up at our doorstep earlier this week.”

“You two traveled together?” Zuko asks, surprised. “How long?”

“The age of twelve,” Toph supplies helpfully.

“Long before our last council meeting in Republic City,” Aang says. “About a month after Katara and I broke our engagement.”

It’s a reflex for Toph to hone in on Aang talking about Katara.

“That long?” Zuko asks, surprised. “I had no idea.”

“Those are the kinds of surprises you get to learn about me when we tie the knot, Sparky,” Toph reassures.

She can tell Aang is getting annoyed. 

Aang leans across the dining table—obnoxiously, even. “Surprised is the way I’d put it. Toph was never interested in the suitors that’d come to Gaoling in these last couple of years.”

“No,” Dad agrees—his exasperation showing once again. “The two of you went through great lengths to scare them away. I suppose you’re the one constant in my daughter’s life.”

“You’re right,” Aang agrees lightly. “I have been the one constant in your daughter’s life. I can’t tell you how often we’ve been mistaken as a couple—OOF!”

Toph swipes her foot against the floor. Aang’s chair scoots forward violently, until his face lands in a large bowl of bitter melon soup.

“Aang?” Zuko asks, suspicious. “You okay?”

“Twinkle Toes has always been a good judge of character,” Toph says sweetly. “He’s never complained about my past relationships.”

Never made a fuss, never had an opinion—never showed interest before the swamp.

“Hopefully not too many relationships,” Dad remarks slowly—unsurprisingly worried about his daughter’s innocence.

“Don’t worry, sir, all those men were in the past,” Aang says innocently. “I’m just glad that Toph has put so much thought in our—her future—agh!”

Again, Aang’s chair rocks forward until his face is buried in a plate of pickled cucumbers.

“This feels all too familiar,” Toph can hear her father grumble.

“Are you tired, dear? Fatigued from traveling?” Mom asks Aang, genuinely concerned.

Aang sits up straight—and there’s no doubt he’s glaring at Toph. He feigns politeness anyway. “Of course not, Poppy. I’m perfectly peachy—ah…ah…ACHOO!!”

He releases a terrifying sneeze, blasting every meal off the table with a violent gust of wind. Toph is met face-first with a bowl of rice.

Anger boils in Toph’s core—enough to erupt like a volcano. She slams her hands into the table and scowls at the other teen. “What’s your problem?!”

“What’s your problem?!” Aang snaps back.

“I think you’re right, dear,” Poppy whispers to her husband. “Quite familiar.” 

“WE’RE supposed to be married!” Aang shouts. “How could you do this to our family?!”

Toph halts—hearing the words aloud for the first time. It’s a sobering feeling she didn’t invite. Certainly not before—and not now. “How could I do it? You’re the one who asked if it was okay if you went on a date with some otherfloozy!”

“Other floozy?” Mom asks. “Know your worth, darling.”

“ENOUGH!” Zuko slams his hands into the table himself with a resounding tone. He jabs a hand to the hallway. “Both of you go to your rooms until you learn your table manners!”

Aang sputters—the opposite of the dignified image he presented when he first landed earlier this afternoon. “But—”

“Now,” Zuko barks sternly.

“Look what you did,” Toph snaps, as they both walk around the table. “You got us in trouble.”

“Me?” Aang asks, appalled.

“Yeah, you.”

“Sorry about that,” they can hear Zuko apologize in the dining hall.

“Oh, not a problem at all,” Mom says.

“Happens all the time,” Dad reassures. 

*

Amazingly, they fall back into old habits. Including what happens when they push each other too far. Toph finds herself in her metal rock garden, kicking around piles of stones and punching metal sheets. She screams in frustration—then lays emphatically on the ground, settled in her irritation.

Eventually, they’ll be in the second round of this angry ritual. One of them (Aang) will come around to be the mature adult (Toph) and force them into a peace treaty (neither of them because they’re both stubborn, and Toph is proud of herself for getting Aang to admit he can be just as hardheaded as she is.)

On more than one occasion, Aang has gone into a prolific confession about how the monks are all about peace, and as Avatar, his responsibility is to maintain balance in the world. It’s usually followed with Aang admitting Toph makes him feel like he’s trying to balance on one foot and flap one wing out of his ear.

(She’ll never admit it, but there’s a relief that overwhelms her when she seizes and laughs. Because Aang can make her laugh, whether he’s trying to or if he’s just being his normal, bald and dorky self.)

The worst part is—their fight in the dining hall only reminds her how much she missed him.

And that just fucking sucks.

Toph makes herself a rock bed and lays in it. It’s varying degrees of cylindrical stone and metal while she disassociates.

“How do you manage to make laying in a pile of rocks look so beautiful?”

Good god, he was going to be the death of her even in a sneak attack she saw coming.

Toph hears Aang’s voice, and Aang’s tenor on the other side of her garden, and she seizes for a different reason now. She raises her head, ears perking to his tone—and her whole chest flops in debate of whether she’s still angry or if she’s flattered.

(Her own face betrays her as it heats up—because Twinkle Toes absolutely did not just call her beautiful.)

“Talent,” Toph says. Then she raises a finger. “And don’t start with that.”

She knows Aang’s tendencies all too well—including how he can skirt around breezily on his tiny little circus feet, and still manage to evade her in the most annoying way.

“I didn’t come here to fight,” he promises. Begs. Pleads.

Toph needs the ground to open up and swallow her. It’s where she thrives. “I would’ve preferred that.”

“I’m sorry for ruining dinner.”

“You should be.”

There’s an obvious gap in the rhythm of their conversation.

“And…,” Aang urges slowly, “you’re—”

“Still hungry,” Toph cuts off. “Some idiot sneezed in my dinner.”

Aang gives an exasperated sigh—so annoyed that it fills Toph with glee. Then he collapses beside her—in a rock bed of his own making. There’s a rattling with Aang’s movements—which is when Toph realizes he’s adorned one of his more sacred robes for this dinner.

“You were right, by the way,” he says out of nowhere. “Hard surfaces do make a difference in sleep. I think my posture’s better.”

“Told you.”

“Uhuh.”

Silence.

“You saw the visions in the swamp too,” he says quietly. “Didn’t you, Sifu T?”

Step three: earnest conversation when they’ve both exhausted their resources.

Toph crosses her arms over her chest and blows hair out of her face.

“Why’d you run away?” he prompts once more. His voice is small. Hurt. Reminds Toph of her conversation with Zuko only earlier in the evening—of being intentionally mean.

“Why’d you take so long to bring up the swamp?” Toph combats.

Aang sits upright, hastily ready for another argument already. “I asked you about it first! Whether or not you had visions!”

“I did. I told you my mom tried to put shoes on me. Hello.” Toph lifts her skirt and gestures to her bare feet. “You flat out lied to me when I asked the same thing. Remember?”

Aang growls—which has taken a whole new meaning since his voice dropped—not that she’d admit it when she has the high ground. But he sucks in a breath—taking a very, very long time to inhale before exhaling peacefully. He sits cross-legged beside her. “Is that the only thing you saw?”

“What did you see?”

“I asked you first.”

“Like I ever answer first, Aang.” 

His mouth clamps shut tightly. Aang’s quiet for so long that she wonders if he’s meditating beside her. It can be a real battle to find a good comeback. “I saw us. Together. Romantically. We had a family. We had a grandfamily, and we grew old, and…and we loved each other.”

His voice cracks at the last few words—soft and yearning in a way that makes Toph’s stomach do a somersault.

Instead, she turns to face him. To acknowledge his face close to her own.

“Did you see that too?” Aang asks her quietly.

She swallows hard, a lump swelling in her throat.

“You did,” he says. “You saw us. Together.”

“I’m blind, knucklehead. I don’t see.”

Another frustrated sigh escapes his lips. “Toph—”

“Why did you lie about it?”

Aang halts, his head already in his hands. He peers back at her, only inches away for her to reach out and touch every wrinkle between his brow. She doesn’t. She hears his chest flutter in light pulse, like the rest of him—then he takes another meditative stance.

“I don’t know,” he admits truthfully. “Why did you run away?”

Toph bites the inside of her mouth. She turns until her back faces him.

Instead of dragging out another sigh, Aang scoots closer. He had a habit of taking advantage of tactility. The hem of his robes drape over her own. He elaborates, unlike herself when he struck the question months ago. When it was too scary. “I didn’t know how to feel about it. How to feel about you. I mean—we were literally in the Swamp—one year after Katara dumped me and I—I was just thinking that night, how okay I was after everything and how happy I was, and how beautiful you looked, and how beautiful you have looked to me in those last few months leading up to the vision, and—”

“Are you out of your mind?” Toph laments. She turns back around and slaps a hand over his mouth to keep Aang from rambling.

“Mmphmphh.” Aang, no doubt wide-eyed and bewildered, simply shakes his head beneath her grip. He pulls her hand off his mouth. One thing Toph knows for sure about Twinkle Toes—he’ll stop talking when he runs out of air.

Which is never.

“Look, I—I don’t know, Toph. The whole thing is just—it’s fate, you know? I told you that night that the swamp was a special place. It’s where I first saw a vision of you—and then we had that shared vision together, of our life together.” Aang scoots closer in his eagerness. “The stars all aligned that night and showed us we were meant to be together. That’s exciting!”

Toph squints at him tiredly. “You want us to get together because some lights in the sky are floating in a straight line. Lights I can’t even see.”

“Well—yeah. Don’t you think that’s exciting?”

“Hell no, Aang.”

Aang goes slack-jawed. “But—”

“We’re not getting married because some fucking floating fire in the sky in a smelly swamp say we should. This was exactly why I left you in the village.” Toph jabs a finger in Aang’s direction—the bitterness distinct in her voice. “You got this harebrained idea from some otherworldly, divine intervention and expect me to go along with it? I’ve seen you propose to Katara. Twice, and watched you crash and burn on some whim because you didn’t consider what she wanted. I’m not getting together with you just because a night of cactus juice is telling me I’m meant to pump out airbending babies.”

She can tell Aang is moving with each jab, but she doesn’t care. So long as it gets her point across. Aang yelps, bobs, and weaves—all the things Zuko isn’t used to doing when she pokes at him, too. Then Aang sounds very, very confused. “But—”

“Furthermore,” she continues, “you suspected all this time that I had the same vision, and still had the monkeyfeathersto ask out another girl?”

“I—” Aang is at a loss for words. “I just wanted to see what would happen.”

“What? To make me jealous? How freaking immature are you?” Toph snaps. “I’m not marrying some dumbass who thinks it’s okay to mess with my head!”

“‘Immature—‘?” Aang squeaks. “You went on dates all the time!”

“Yeah. Before the stupid swamp. And trust me when I say we were always very upfront about what we wanted. You wanna know how you asking me if I was okay with you going on a date with another girl felt? How lying to me felt? How this feels?” Finally, the cap blows off the anger and frustration she’s felt in the last few months. “Like you lied to me because you didn’t like the vision. Like you asked out that girl because you didn’t want that vision to happen. Like you’re only up in arms about it now because I was your Plan B since Sweetness didn’t work out, and you’re only upset because I’m not gonna be on standby when you get your heart broken again.”

“What—?” Aang halts, evidently shocked. “Toph, I—I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“Well you’re really fucking good at it,” she snaps. There’s a tremor in her own voice—worse than the ones she made when she rearranged her garden. Toph loses momentum. She swears under her breath and wipes her eyes against her forearm.

“Toph,” Aang says, his voice unbelievably soft and riddled with sickeningly sweet concern. “I—”

“Don’t.” Toph refuses to uncover her eyes. “Aang, do you even wanna be with me, or do you just wanna marry me?”

“I—” Aang stutters in response. And admits, “I don’t see a difference.”

“Well the blind girl does.” Toph seethes and snaps again. “I spent my childhood in a box because my parents believed I was weak and fragile that needed to be protected. I don’t need to be put in another one because a smelly swamp or you say I should be.”

She gathers to her feet.

“Toph, wait—”

“Good night, Aang. See you at the wedding.”

*

“So,” Zuko asks her in the evening. “Aang is now in my chambers wallowing in self-pity and telling me he’s ruined every shot he’s had with you.” 

“Sure did.” Toph keeps her back turned to her husband-to-be. 

“Toph, I—” he halts and clears his throat. “I don’t think I can marry you if this is going to drive a wedge between two of my best friends.” 

“What?” Toph whips around, her irritation spiking. “What did he tell you?” 

“Nothing,” Zuko says immediately. “In fact, he made it very clear as he was drowning his sorrows in nighttime tea that it was a conversation privy to the two of you. Then he slammed his tea cup at the bar and demanded Momo for a glass of orange juice and to not skimp out on the pulp this time.” 

Oh, monkeyfeathers. Toph is lockjawed and annoyed at the candidness of Zuko’s words. 

“You said you were trying to get around your parents setting you up with a dozen suitors, right?” Zuko asks again. “Was Aang one of them?” 

“What? No. I don’t know.” Toph lets out another exasperated sigh. She screams into her pillow.

Zuko makes another introspective sound. He strokes his chin, which Sokka once told Toph held a very admirable five o’clock shadow. “Is this a Katara situation?” 

“Bingo.” Toph raises her head and fires a finger gun at Zuko. 

She can sense his discomfort. He follows with, “Then we definitely can’t get married.” 

“Pretty easy for you to say considering the number of banners all over the city—let alone the entire freaking world.” 

“You can’t read them,” Zuko says helpfully. “Do they really count?” 

“Now you’re getting it.” Toph sits cross legged on her mattress, frustrated. The satin robes shift over her lap. As she pulls a lock of hair behind her ear, her mind wanders to Aang’s insistent comment. 

Toph. Beautiful. Her. Beautiful. 

Zuko duplicates Aang’s stance—legs crossed at the foot of Toph’s four-poster bed. Toph should’ve known—of all people to sway Zuko (whose name didn’t start with an ‘S’ and made his heart flop more than a panicked toad), it would be Twinkle Toes. She was doomed before she started. 

“Look,” Zuko says, “I definitely don’t want to get between the two of you then. Especially if it’s under the least ideal situations possible.” 

“Oh my god,” she laments in frustration, “of course you’d take his side.” 

“I’m not taking anyone’s side,” he protests. “Aang was a mess after Katara. Clearly, he’s a mess over you now, too. I don’t want to be the weight that breaks the camelephant’s back if the two of you are going through something.” 

Toph wrinkles her nose, unsure of how to respond. “What about the Fire Sages?” 

Zuko holds out a palm. “Angry old men that don’t understand I’m not interested in procreating with women—”

He holds out his second palm, higher. 

“—driving a wedge between two of my best friends, who I value dearly.” 

“You’re either braver or dumber than I gave you credit for, Sparky.” 

“It can be both,” he reassures. “But if two of my friends, who taught me I deserve more than what my father ever left me, don’t understand that lesson themselves, then I haven’t been a good friend myself.” 

Toph bites the inside of her mouth. Zuko’s proven once again that he’s just inherently a nice guy. 

(Albeit still very much awkward.) 

She concedes with a final sigh and rubs her temples. “Before Ba Sing Se,  Aang and I were traveling together for the last year-and-a-half. Since Katara called off the engagement.” 

“Really?” The surprise is evident in Zuko’s voice. “I just thought you were busy with your metalbending academy.” 

“Someone had to whip him back into shape after two failed proposals with the girl of his dreams,” Toph protests. “You were busy leading a nation. Sokka was helping the White Lotus and absorbed in making pit stops here. Katara was busy with Water Tribe stuff.” 

“And I suppose you had an opening in your calendar?” 

“‘Fraid so. Things were just different from when it was all of us. But I’m not gonna be some rebound for him after that soul-crushing mess of a breakup,” Toph reasons quickly. “And I’m not going to marry him because destiny says we should.” 

“He proposed?”

“No, a swamp did.” 

“Uh.” Zuko scratches his head. “Okay, I’m lost.” 

Toph sighs in frustration—knowing full well Zuko just doesn’t get it, and she’s expended all her energy being angry at Aang this evening. But—she’s willing to admit one truth. 

“Fate says we’re supposed to end up together,” Toph explains. “But fate doesn’t tell me what to do. Only I do that. So maybe I wanted to get married to you instead to prove a point.” 

“I see.” Zuko takes in the news diplomatically, then rubs his chin. The silhouette of his stance just screams Iroh. “Well—have you considered he wouldn’t be begging Momo for pulpy shots of orange juice right now if he didn’t consider you more than a rebound?” 

“Not my problem.” 

“It will be if the Fire Nation’s suddenly exhausted its supply of citrus,” Zuko replies sagely. He leans in and crosses his arms. “Look. I won’t tell you what to do. But I think it’s best that we call off the wedding.” 

“You’re dumping me?” 

“I can tell people I got dumped. I won’t ruin your street cred.” 

Toph snorts—but it’s followed with a smile. 

“But position of scribe is always open,” he promises. “It’s nice to have someone around to skirt attempts on my life. And to keep my guards in place.” 

She laughs—and any rotten feeling in her chest disappears for now. Eventually it fades, leaving only the remains of a tired smile. “You give Twinkle Toes the same talk, then?” 

“No,” Zuko says earnestly. He rubs his head thoughtfully. “But I told him I made every mistake in the book before earning his friendship. With a lot of people. If he values your friendship as much as I value ours, then he’ll make amends with you the proper way.” 

“You’re right. We shouldn’t get married. You’re sounding too much like your old geezer of an uncle.” 

She knows the comment hits Zuko in the best ways possible. 

“Thanks, Zuko,” she says finally. “And double thanks for just letting it be.” 

Zuko holds out a fist—no doubt followed with a smile. 

Toph gives it a firm, grateful bump. 

*

Toph announces to her parents that the wedding is off. 

“You dumped the Fire Lord?” Mom asks. “My, my.” 

“And you’re sticking around for a while,” Dad asks tentatively. “I suppose there’s always hope that you’ll reconcile.” 

“And if not, always hope I’ll be able to give someone a knuckle sandwich,” Toph promises. 

Dad sighs wearily—never the less charmed and accepting of his daughter after too many years of silence. 

She gives them both hugs. 

“I hear Aang is staying around too,” Mom remarks. 

“Really?” Toph asks, surprised. “News to me.” 

Calling off the wedding leaves a lot of broken hearts—especially one super excited rando out in the city who was busy weaving a wondrous tapestry of the Fire Lord and Lady Melon Lord. Toph reassured them she thought it was pretty and thanked them for their work. 

She decides to stick around—because she currently has no plans. Heading back to the Earth Kingdom is a boat ride better put off. Finding earthbenders interested in metalbending is always a mission—but it’s dulled in the last few months since seeking refuge in Ba Sing Se. Since trips with Aang had become more about spending time with each other than anything else. 

Toph did find the most joy in scaring off suitors with her best friend. 

Aang sticks around, but he doesn’t try to sell himself again. Toph is informed by the many servants that the Avatar won’t stop staring at her with big puppy dog eyes. She considers perpetuating a rumor that the sudden end to her engagement to Zuko was payback for Sozin. 

She has a feeling Aang is waiting for her to cool down. Zuko said if she was worth it to Aang, then Aang would try to make amends. There’s a nagging relief in Toph’s core, thankful that Aang would still find her worth anything at all. 

The other thought that nags her is just how much Zuko is right. The idea of losing her first friend terrifies her—even though he’s been a jerk. 

The great thing about paper mail is how slow it takes for anyone to know what’s going on. Especially if said anyones have been on a boat for weeks without a known location. 

A servant arrives in the meeting hall. 

“My apologies, my lord,” he says, “you told me to come get you anytime Sokka of the Water Tribe sailed in.” 

“Sokka’s here?” Zuko asks, surprised. 

“Yes. And Katara, of the Southern Water Tribe. They bring gifts for the wedding.” 

“Oh,” Zuko says—and he looks over to Toph. Then to Aang, on the far side of proceedings.

Then Aang places a hand on his face. “Oh no.”

They make it to the pier in record-time on Appa. Toph hates how habitual it is for Aang to help her off the saddle. Zuko is already on his own, taking steps on the boardwalk to meet the docking ship. 

Toph has an arm hooked around Aang’s before she can help herself. To her surprise, Aang’s arm awaits her without request. 

“Thanks,” she says. 

“No problem, Sifu T.” Aang’s whole posture is tense and awkward—no doubt a page from Zuko’s book. 

As dirt becomes wood, Toph allows Aang to guide her. She catches part of the conversation easily. 

“Zuko, buddy!” Is Sokka’s shrill, bluffing-during-Thirteen-Cards voice. “Congratulations, my guy!” 

“Oooff.” 

Then there’s a hug. Like a really long hug, and something mumbled that Aang can barely hear. 

“He’s not letting go,” Aang informs Toph quietly. 

“My god, even I can see it,” she replies quietly. Wryly. 

“And you’re blind,” Aang agrees. In honor of habits, he waves a hand over her face in agreement. 

“Aang! Toph!” Katara’s voice rings across the boardwalk. Aang lets go for a brief second so Katara can hug her tightly. 

“Hey, Sugar Queen,” she greets. She hugs Katara tightly—sorely missing a best friend that isn’t wound up like a metal coil on this island. 

Then Katara and Aang do a weird dance where they’re not sure if they should hug or shake hands. After an agonizing too-long of a second, they finally agree to a hug. 

“So you guys are doing it,” Katara says breathily. “You and Zuko are actually getting married.” 

“Actually, we called off the wedding a couple of days ago,” Toph says. “Sorry. Easier to tell you in person since you were already on the way for the wedding.” 

“Oh,” Katara says—and she sounds pleasantly surprised. “You came to your senses?” 

“Hey—can it with the Sweetness support and the moral compass. They both just make you look like a rotten lychee.” Toph crosses her arms and hears Katara roll her eyes. 

“Fine, fine, you’re right.” Katara places hands on her in a motherly manner. “I’m just glad you came to your senses before you made it down the altar. Been there, done that.” 

“Big mess,” Toph agrees. “Good shrimp at the after party, though.” 

Aang clears his throat—and suddenly Katara’s hands are prickly on Toph. 

“Uh,” Katara says awkwardly—then exhales. “You know what I mean, Aang.” 

“Yup,” Aang replies just as awkwardly. “Tofu was good too, though.” 

Toph debates on opening her own hole in the ground to avoid this painful conversation. Instead, she deviates and taps Katara gently on the arm. “Sorry to make you come all this way.” 

“I found out about the wedding through a flier,” Aang explains helpfully. 

“Well, you are harder to get a hold of,” Katara points out. “Sokka never passes up a chance to see Sokka. He’s been hyping himself for the wedding this entire trip.” 

“We can catch up,” Aang offers. “Once Sokka stops talking.” 

“Oh, great,” Toph says. “Shake my coffin when he’s done. I’ll be the one that died of old age waiting for him to shut up.” 

The rest of the meetings are canceled for the day. It appears to a normal occurrence—where, the Water Tribe boy is visiting—suffices as an answer. Zuko requests an open charcoal grill over dinner, served near the beach in a large tent. Zuko dismisses the cook once the sliced meats and vegetables arrive at their table, and Katara bends drinks into respective  glasses. 

“To my best friends, Zuko and Toph,” Sokka toasts in their intimate gathering. “I can’t think of any two other people who mean the world to me, and who I want to be happy. To a lovely marriage!” 

They all sit in silence, with just the crackling of the flames. 

“I thought I was your best friend,” Aang says, hurt. 

“I’m your sister,” Katara points out. “You can’t think of your sister being happy?” 

Zuko clears his throat and nudges Toph to let her know that Sokka finally took a breath. 

“Fire Lord Sparky and I called off the wedding a couple days ago, you big oaf.” Toph props an elbow on her knee and reaches to the hot plate. 

“Not done yet,” Aang whispers to her. “Still a little red. It’s pork. Bok choy to your left.” 

Toph obeys, while Sokka’s brain lags at the new information. 

“What?” Sokka asks, delayed. Flabbergasted. “You let me go on all afternoon about wanting to be best man and man of honor?” 

“I was invested in how you were going to be a human boomerang,” Zuko confesses. “You were excited about a wardrobe change.” 

Sokka gawks. And his shoulders visibly deflate. “I bought a new belt for the ceremony, though. It’s the new fad—convertible!” 

He flicks something in front of them back and forth multiple times. 

“Beautiful,” Toph remarks. “It brings out your eyes.”

“Thanks!” Sokka sounds genuinely flattered—then he deflates again, annoyed. “Very funny.” 

“Learned from the best,” Toph promises—which softens Sokka’s agitation. 

“What are we celebrating then?” Sokka asks—somehow even twitchier than before. His head seems to dart between all three of them, sorely confused. “When’s the last time we were all together like this? I’ve been warming up my speech voice.” 

“Uh,” Zuko offers. He raises his glass. “Your toast was touching, Sokka. I’m glad you value me—and Toph so much. So…to friendship?” 

Sokka rubs his chin, thoughtful.

“To friendship,” Aang reveres. He raises a glass, shifting his weight in a way that makes Toph forget she was leaning into him. “To our friendship—which, after a hundred years, has been able to transcend continents, and will hopefully transcend lifetimes. Thank you to all of you for your part in bringing peace to the world. But—more importantly, thank you for being my friend first. All of you.” 

Toph can hear the softness in his voice. The gravitas that outweighs the brevity of everything else Aang tends to leap into. And she knows he’s looking at her. 

“Aw, Aang,” Katara says, touched. 

“Second best speech of the house,” Zuko praises. 

“Agreed,” Sokka says. “Last thing I need is to compete for your vote, Zuko.” 

So, so, tooth-rottingly obvious. No cactus juice required. 

Later, Toph endures laying beneath the sunset while Katara and Sokka admire how different it looks at the Fire Nation Capital than it does back home. Far many more daylight hours, with the warmth of the sun above them. 

“One of my favorite reasons to visit,” Sokka remarks aloud. 

“One of them?” Zuko parrots, sounding both satisfied and curious. Toph can practically hear his smile. 

Sokka chuckles nervously. Toph has only heard it when he dated Suki. 

There’s an, it’s all the same to me, joke at the tip of Toph’s tongue—but her focus is on Katara and Aang, who decided on a non-romantic stroll. Toph’s mastered sandbending enough to recognize Aang whipping around to get her approval. Toph feigned interest in getting the dirt between her toes. 

“So,” Aang had asked loudly, “how are you and Haru doing? I’m very invested in hearing how you and Haru are doing, in the most platonic-way possible.” 

“Uh, great,” Katara reassured. “Still going strong. Thanks for asking, Aang, I really appreciated it.” 

Toph considered retiring to her room for the night, but it’d invite Zuko’s curious look. She resigns herself to chaperoning from afar instead and tuning out some very cringe-y flirting. 

Eventually, Katara and Aang return. Katara obliviously sidles between Zuko and her brother with a content sigh. “The moon looks amazing tonight. Don’t you think, Sokka?” 

In his second respite of the night, Sokka falls quiet. “Yeah, she really does.” 

Katara feels the need to explain. “Yue was—”

“Yeah,” Zuko says—and it’s clear that the mood has soured. 

Toph almost doesn’t hear Aang settle beside her. She makes room in the sand. 

“Beautiful night,” he offers. 

“Peaceful,” Toph agrees. 

They sit in a silence, with only a crackling fire and gentle waves to keep them company. It’s a welcomed sound compared to whatever can of awkward Katara decided to open a few feet away. 

“Can I show you something?” Aang asks her. “Hold out your hand?” 

Toph is suspicious—but she’s lost the energy to bicker tonight. She entertains him by sitting up and offering her palm. 

Aang pokes it. Then he pokes it again. 

“Aang,” Toph rouses, “What—?”

“You told me you didn’t know what the stars looked like,” he reminds her. “I’m trying to show you.” 

Toph blinks, taken aback, but Aang continues to prick gently at her palm. Then he sprinkles granules of sand in her hand. 

“They’re little bursts of light in the darkness,” he says softly. “From where we’re sitting they look as small as grains of sand. Some look bigger than others. Sokka thinks they’re always there, even during the day. We just can’t see them. Like air.” 

The sand moves in her hand—each individual granule. Toph realizes he’s bending them in her palm. 

“And they’re much, much older than the Avatar and lion turtles,” Aang finishes. “They’re all…glowy and stuck in the sky. They shine bright, all on their own, and the universe doesn’t tell them to line up. They exist independently, all on their own, and we get the privilege of admiring them.” 

He’s nervous. Toph can tell from the way his pulse quickens. 

She’s nervous, too. She can tell her face is warm. 

“I…genuinely don’t know what to say right now,” she confesses warily. 

She’s impressed he made a metaphor out of dirt. A romantic one, too. 

“Been working on that one for a while,” he admits. He rubs his bald head a little too proudly. “Um…this is me saying—you’ve always been a star in the distance, Sifu T. No one can make you line up somewhere you don’t want. I’m sorry I pushed.” 

Toph can’t help clinging to her wariness. “And?” 

“And, nothing. I’m sorry. Like, super, super sorry.” Aang said. “I meant what I said earlier. Our friendship is the most important thing to me, and I hope it is to you, too. Maybe that’s why I didn’t mention the swamp vision. I didn’t want to ruin a good thing. I’d already done it once with Katara.” 

Toph’s resolve wanes with his words. She relaxes for the first time in months. Since the swamp. 

“Maybe that’s why I didn’t mention it either,” Toph admits. She feels self-conscious, knowing his eyes are on her. Knowing she can’t decipher what he’s thinking. She nudges him weakly in the leg. “I date those guys in the places we go, Aang, but I see them once in a while. I see you every day.” 

“Yeah,” Aang says quietly. “I get it.” 

“I…do miss traveling with you though.” 

“Really?” 

“Really.” 

Aang exhales another breath—but she can tell he’s relaxing for the first time in months, too. “Wanna know something else cool?” 

“Why not.” 

“Katara told me where pearls come from. Oysters get an irritant in their mouth, like sand, and it makes a little lump in there. They’re ulcers that just keep growing until they get harvested or puked out.” 

“Shut up. No way.” 

“Way.” Aang takes her hand, rather than requesting it this time, and places something in her palm. He takes her other hand and guides her fingers over it. 

Toph makes a noise—but then she mesmerizes the smooth shape in her hand. “It’s bald. Like you.” 

Aang laughs—loudly, and freely. “And pretty. Like you.” 

Toph scoffs in disbelief. Which dissolves into an incredulous chuckle, that devolves into a baffled laugh or two. Maybe hysterical. 

All the while, Aang’s stature doesn’t waver. He’s staring straight at her, completely serious. 

Seriously calling her pretty. 

Toph’s hand coils around the pearl, and she props herself to keep steady. 

“Can I walk you to your room?” He asks. 

Toph considers declining—but finds she doesn’t mind. She actually really wants Aang’s company. “Yeah. Why not.” 

As she stands to her feet, she habitually reaches for Aang’s arm. She’s pleasantly surprised it’s waiting for her. 

*

Aang rattles on about other rock-adjacent facts. Like, how penguins court each other by gifting a special rock. Or how opals are made when water mixes with a certain type of rock. 

“Opal,” Toph says. “Pretty name.” 

“Yeah,” Aang agrees. “Pretty.” 

They make in front of Toph’s room, still arm-in-arm. She doesn’t feel much need to mention it. But she’s very aware how…intimate this all feels. 

“Can’t say I’ve ever had a guy flirt with me with rock facts,” Toph muses. Bluntly, to make sure she’s not hallucinating. 

“Maybe if they tried, they’d still be standing here instead of me.” 

Spirits. Toph doesn’t know what surprises her more—how bold Aang sounds or the fact he even knows how to flirt. 

Aang radiates with cheekiness. She never needed sight to know that. He’s pleased with himself. 

“This is really fun, actually,” he says—a little more timid. “Not that terrifying.” 

“You know what, Twinkle Toes? I think I actually agree with you.”

Neither of them move, or say another word. Toph knows that if she inches toward her door, that the night will be over. It feels like ages since Aang and she have had a casual evening like this. An easy conversation like this. 

“Toph,” Aang says next, slow. Steady, with more focus than she can fathom. 

She braces herself. For what—she has no idea. 

“Um. So, I—”

“Oh, good!” Sokka’s voice echoes down the hall before his footsteps do. Toph was so entranced by Aang’s voice that she didn’t hear him coming. 

They both startle so badly that Toph rips her grip out of Aang’s arm—the gesture oddly feeling too intimate for a third party all of a sudden. 

Much like the afternoon, Sokka remains oblivious as he starts waving his arms wildly. “The two of you are still up. I wanted to talk to you about something, Aang.” 

Aang exhales patiently. 

Toph sighs, exasperated. 

Sokka looks between them both obliviously. “Why are you two alone? The party was on the beach.” 

“You mean under the stars with Sparky?” Toph asks. “Sounds like a rave.” 

Aang snickers, which devolves into a cough. It’s always been his cue of when he’s trying to be serious. “What can I do you for, Sokka?” 

“I—well—” Sokka’s head darts back and forth between them. “It’s complicated.” 

“Do tell,” Toph says encouragingly. 

He does a dance, like one of Toph’s youngest students when they need to pee. Then Sokka yanks them both into her chambers. 

“Oof!” Toph lands on her bed. Aang softens the blow, while their Water Tribe friend begins to pace the length of the room.

“I’m in a weird position,” Sokka confesses finally. 

“I would’ve been too, if you gave it a few more minutes,” Toph grumbles—to which Aang makes an indescribable noise. 

Sokka stops dead center between both of them. He takes a deep breath—then turns his attention to Toph. He takes another deep breath—then detonates in a fast string words. “I wasn’t crazy about you and Zuko getting married. I didn’t even know you were dating.” 

“Tell me about it,” Aang grumbles. 

“We weren’t,” Toph reassures candidly—

“And here’s the thing—I spent the whole trip on the boat preparing my best man speech—and my maid of honor speech, and I had all these wonderful things to say about Zuko. Some about you, too, Toph,” Sokka continues with minimal hitch. “And—the more I wrote about Zuko—I mean, the both of you—I was pretty happy. I had a fun time writing all those things, you know?” 

“We know,” Aang and Toph reply in unison. 

“The thing is—” Sokka waves his arms around tensely. “—getting off this boat and finding out that Zuko and Toph aren’t getting married was like…the happiest I’d been since seeing Suki at the Boiling Rock. Don’t get me wrong, Toph—any guy would be lucky to have someone like you, but like—”

Sokka curves the wingspan of his arms until they’re hugging the air. 

“—if I could…describe just how big and crazy and happy I felt when I found out…” He makes some obscure, Sokka-exclusive noise that hardly sounds human. “If I could just take that and mold it somehow into something physical to explain how it made me feel—”

“Oh,” Aang says. “Like your Suki sand sculpture when you two were still dating.” 

“EXACTLY!” Sokka throws his arms into the sky. “So what do you think that means?” 

Aang looks over to Toph. 

“Don’t worry,” she reassures him. “I heard him too.” 

“Toph,” Sokka says, “the men are talking.” 

It earns him a sharp kick in the shin. 

“Ow!” 

“Have you seen my fliers these days?” Toph snatches a spare flier off the nightstand. “This man enough for you?” 

Aang politely rotates the flier in her hands. 

“Wow, do muscles even get this lumpy?” Sokka asks. 

“Only if you’re man enough,” Toph retorts. 

“Sokka,” Aang interjects, “you said that the happiness from finding out Toph and Zuko called off their wedding reminded you of your sand monster Suki from, like, six years ago.” 

Sokka takes a combative tone. “Well, I didn’t say sand monster.” 

“Well,” Aang continues, the nervousness in his voice, “you also said getting off the boat and finding out they weren’t getting married made you as happy as finding Suki at the Boiling Rock. So…?” 

Sokka scratches what Toph hopes is his chin. Then he snaps his fingers. “Their names sound pretty similar! Crazy, right?” 

Toph presses a hand to her face, while Aang deflates. 

“Okay, I can work with this,” Aang says far too optimistically. “How else would you say they’re similar?” 

“Um,” Sokka says, “they both have long hair?” 

“Sokka,” Toph interjects more bluntly, “you know Ty Lee and Mai are dating?” 

Sokka turns to her. “What does that have to do with anything?” 

“Suki might be dating them too. Who knows—anything’s possible. She was into you, after all.” Toph crosses her arms. “How does that make you feel?” 

Again, Sokka is scratching something that she really hopes is his head. “I…dunno. Okay, I guess? So long as they treat her right. Mai’s kinda scary. How did Zuko take it?” 

“Dunno,” Toph says innocently, even though she very much knows. “You of all people know he hasn’t had another girlfriend since Little Miss Sunshine.” 

“Ty Lee?” Sokka asks, confused. 

“Mai,” Aang corrects helpfully. 

“Well—yeah.” Sokka’s head bobs up and down. “You know any girl would go for him in a heartbeat, he’s a hot man.” 

“You’re right,” Toph says. “Or any guy.” 

“Wait,” Aang says, “did you say hotman or hot man? Because—ow!”

Toph elbows him because she’s finally getting somewhere. 

“Yeah, exactly,” Sokka laments, as though not hearing them at all. “Like, the guy is a total and utter catch! I don’t understand how he’s been single for so—did you say guy?” 

Aang leans into Toph with a soft, ohh, while she pretends to inspect the dirt between her fingernails. Toph crosses her legs. 

“I may have noticed a servant or two…or guard or five checking out Fire Lord Hotman’s butt,” she confides casually. “And some Earth Kingdom officials flirting with him during meetings.” 

“What?” Sokka asks, mortified. “What are you doing in meetings?” 

“I’m his scribe,” Toph says, as Aang supplies, “she’s the record keeper.” 

“Really? Earth Kingdom officials? Guards?” Sokka starts pacing the length of the room again, his hands on the crown of his head. Then he turns to them again. “I mean—how does that make Zuko feel? Is he reciprocating?” 

“Not that I can see,” Toph muses—while Sokka makes another sound. 

Then his voice becomes steadier and a little less panicked. It’s riddled with a thoughtful concern. “Does the Fire Nation even—you know—allow that?” 

“Sokka, he’s the Fire Lord. Even if they didn’t, he could make a law change at the drop of a hat,” she points out.

“Avatar Kyoshi famously had a female lover during her lifetime,” Aang also offers. “Lieutenant Rangi. They stayed together until Rangi died of old age. Kyoshi would’ve passed to the Spirit World with her but she knew her wife would chase her back to the living if it wasn’t her time.” 

“Sounds like my kind of woman,” Toph remarks. “Don’t forget the Earth King.” 

“The Earth King’s been flirting with Zuko?” Sokka asks incredulously. 

“Well—” Aang starts, while Toph shrugs and nods. 

“How am I supposed to compete with that?” Sokka cradles his head in his hands and paces again. “I mean—can I compete with that?” 

“Do you want to compete with that?” Aang asks, also surprised. He inches forth curiously—which is when Toph realizes how closely they’ve been sitting on her bed. “I mean…I didn’t realize you cared so much about Zuko like this.” 

“Of course I care! I mean—I don’t know, is it weird?” Sokka asks. He waves his arms again. “Is it wrong that my favorite White Lotus meetings are the ones where Zuko’s there? Or that I get excited when he asks me to stay a week or two longer after those meetings? Do I think he’s pretty hot, and like, pretty and hot? And the greatest mind I’ve ever had the privilege of getting know?” 

“Ouch,” Aang says candidly, “but okay. What is Zuko to you, Sokka? Is he a hot man or a hotman?” 

Sokka’s shoulders fall, his arms dangling at his side, numb. “I think he’s a hot man.” 

“Woo!” Toph and Aang throw their arms up in a cheer. They high five. 

“I…” Sokka’s voice goes soft—in a way that Toph’s only ever heard when he’s talked about Suki. “I think I’m in love with Zuko.” 

“Great!” Aang flies to his feet with an excited blast of air.

“About damn time,” Toph agrees—

“What if Zuko doesn’t feel the same way, though?” Sokka continues, his voice slowly climbing an octave. “I mean—what if he doesn’t even like guys? And even if he does, who am I to expect I’m even his type when he’s got a bunch of suitors lined up at his—”

“Hey, hey, hey—no one disses you and gets away with it. I’m the only one allowed to do that.” Toph jabs a finger harshly in Sokka’s chest. “You helped save the freaking world. You’re a master swordsman.” 

“You’re the Boomerang Guy!” Aang supplies. 

“You’re the fucking Boomerang Guy,” Toph agrees. “Which means even if Zuko goes to some other chump and falls for him, he’s always gonna come back to you, Master Boomerang. Don’t let anyone else put you down except me, got it?” 

Sokka faces her, speechless. Then he reanimates. “Okay. Got it.” 

“Say it again,” Aang encourages. “You’re in love with Zuko.” 

“I’m in love with Zuko,” Sokka repeats. The words are careful on his tongue. Then more excitable. “I’m in love with Zuko, and I’m Mister Boomerang.” 

“Close enough!” Toph shouts. 

“I should tell him I’m in love with him,” Sokka says excitably. Then he starts doing his bathroom dance again. “Like, right now.” 

“Right now!” Aang agrees. 

“Yeah. Yeah, okay!” Sokka darts out the door. 

It’s then that Toph realizes Aang and she are alone again. 

“That was really nice of you, Toph,” Aang says. He looks at her with a gentle head-tilt—matching the sweet tenor of his voice. 

She bites the inside of her mouth and feels her cheeks heat up. “I don’t have another one of those in me, so don’t push your luck.” 

To his surprise, Aang lets out an effervescent laugh—kind and sweet. 

Then, like a boomerang, Sokka comes back. 

“That was fast,” Aang says. “Did he already say I love you back?” 

“No. What? No.” Sokka looks between the two of them with confusion—then exhales. “Can you two help me?” 

*

Unsurprisingly, they end up back on the beach. Sokka drags them by the hands like they’re twelve again, and plants them in the sand. 

Toph can sense Zuko and Katara candidly chitchatting a few yards away. 

“And how are we helping exactly?” She asks. 

“Stay here,” Sokka says with bold gusto. He takes five paces towards Zuko and his sister—then walks back. “I don’t know.” 

“Well, how do you want us to help?” Aang asks. 

Again, Sokka sprints towards the pair—then comes back. “Katara’s in the way.” 

“I can see that,” Toph reassures. 

“Oh,” Aang says, and he stands on the tip of his twinkle toes. “I guess she is.” 

“I shouldn’t do this,” Sokka says—and he begins to pace a moat around them. “This is ridiculous. This is—it’s bonkers. You know my sister—she’s got a knack for attracting guys in all Four Nations! And Zuko, he’s—”

“Gay,” Toph interjects very bluntly. 

Sokka whips around, puzzled. “What? No, I mean—”

“Very gay,” Toph emphasizes. “Sokka, we were only getting married because no guy was going to measure up to you in his eyes.” 

For a tall, maniacal guy, Sokka suddenly sounds very small. “What?” 

“What?” Aang echoes, even more baffled. 

“And to get my parents off my back,” Toph informs. She waves a hand dismissively. “It was a win-win.” 

“Measure up to me?” Sokka asks, surprised. 

“I could’ve done that,” Aang insists—but Toph adamantly holds a hand in front of his face. 

“Don’t start with me,” she snaps with ire. “You’ve always been different and you know it.” 

“Wait, wait, wait—” Sokka suddenly stops. He stares at them both. “Is there something between you two?”

Toph perks an ear as Aang looks at her. 

Slowly, they whisper to each other. Then they count to three. 

Toph kicks at the sand—

“WHOAAAAAA!” —and Sokka is catapulted towards Zuko, while—

“AHHHHH!” Katara lands in a cushioned sand bed beside them. She looks back and forth, bewildered. “Toph? Aang?” 

“Shh,” Aang says—and he points afar, where Sokka has made a smooth landing in a crater beside Zuko’s picnic blanket. 

Thankfully, Toph has already tuned them out. 

“Hi, again,” she hears Zuko say from afar. Skeptically. 

“Howdy, neighbor,” Sokka greets, one octave higher than usual. 

“You came from the sky,” Zuko says tentatively. His body language shifts, and he tilts his head curiously. 

“Sure did. Almost like the dirt catapulted me,” Sokka says with loud ire. 

“I don’t think that’s how that expression goes.” Zuko’s voice is filled with mirth, at least. Toph’s learned how easy it is to make the Fire Lord laugh. Or—more specifically, how Sokka can make him laugh and feel at ease. 

She can relate in some ways, with Aang. 

“The moon is beautiful tonight,” Zuko continues quietly. “Sorry if I sounded sour about it.” 

“What? No. Sorry my sister made it sour,” Sokka replies quickly. He glides close to Zuko, evidently finally finding a beat that works for them. 

“No,” Zuko dismisses, and he shakes his head determinedly. “No, Sokka. I know how much Yue meant to you. She was an important part of your life. It must be hard to look into the sky some nights. I would feel that way about my mother for the longest time. Sometimes, I still do.” 

“Let’s get married.” 

“What?!” Katara asks in a heated whisper. Aang and Toph clamp a hand over her mouth—but they lean close to the couple far, all wondering if they heard right. 

Zuko startles, too—but Sokka rambles at the same speed as this morning. 

“Look, man—you are one of the most important people in my life. I’m not—I’m not short of them, but I’ve lost a lot of other  important people in my life, too,” Sokka begins. He paces again from a far, while the Fire Lord stands speechless. “When Yue took over the responsibility of the Moon Goddess, I didn’t like it, but—I understood it, and knew it had to happen, so I stepped aside. I had to do the same when Suki and I were dating, during the war. And when I found out about you and Toph, I—I was going to step aside, too, because your happiness means a lot to me.” 

While they’re far from readable from where Toph is standing, she can tell that Sokka has reached for Zuko’s hands—fluidly moving with each high and low of his words. Zuko stands rigid. Speechless. Stunned. 

“But I’m done standing aside,” Sokka says adamantly. “I know what I want, and I don’t want to wait any longer if I know that means I get to spend the rest of my life with you. And—I know you’re all about tradition, Zuko, so get this—Avatar Kyoshi had a wife! So if your grandpa’s gay, can’t we be too?” 

“That’s not what I—” Aang lets out an exasperated sigh—but the protest dissolves quickly in favor of the scene unfolding in front of them. 

“You…like me?” Zuko asks finally, stunned. 

“What?” Sokka asks—then he smacks himself. “Oh—sorry, I knew I forgot something. Zuko—“ 

He reaches and caresses Zuko’s face gently—in a way that no one else would be allowed to touch the Fire Lord’s face. 

“I love you,” he says—so soft that Toph almost doesn’t hear. “Will you marry me?” 

Aang sniffles. 

“What are they saying?” Katara asks, her head flipping back and forth between Toph and Aang. “C’mon, Aang, you know my ears aren’t that big!” 

“You like me back?” Zuko asks once again, still stunned. “You…love me back?” 

The motion is vague, but Toph feels Sokka jump giddily. “You love me back?” 

“Yeah,” Zuko says, strained and gruff. In the week of their fake engagement Toph hasn’t heard him grow emotional. Not like this. “You wanna marry me?” 

“You wanna marry me?” Sokka asks, his voice hopeful and giddy. 

“Yeah—yes. Yes.” Zuko matches his pitch—his happiness, and leans into Sokka. 

“Oh, before I forget—”

Katara gasps, leaning over Toph’s shoulder. “They’re kissing!” 

“They’re engaged!” Toph exclaims. She reaches for Aang and shakes him violently as he cheers. 

“I won’t let you take all the firsts,” Zuko teases softly, while Sokka has finally second for a second time that night. They do a little more kissing, which not even Toph is blind too. 

“Oh,” Katara coos. Then, with less enthusiasm, “Oh.” 

“Uh, yeah,” Aang says, “we should give them some priv—”

“When do you want to do it?” Zuko asks. 

“Now,” Sokka says. 

“Now?” 

“Two weeks from now!” Sokka holds Zuko by the shoulders. “My dad’s already on the way thinking you’re gettig married to Toph! With Bato—they’ve been spending a lot of time together, actually.” 

“Your dad was going to come to our wedding?” Zuko asks, surprised. 

“Yeah, man. He already sees you as a son. Why wouldn’t he?” 

Zuko takes a Zuko-amount of time in his silence and they slowly start walking towards Toph, Aang, and Katara. “Okay, well—the fliers—“

“Just paint my face over Toph’s! She’s got a manly presence on the pictures anyway.” 

“But the height difference—”

“I don’t mind being a short king,” Sokka promises unabashed. 

“We’re the same height,” Zuko points out—but even he sounds too happy to be logical. They’ve finally made it to the spying trio, hand-in-hand. Zuko looks at them in surprise. “Oh—hey guys.” 

Aang and Katara stare at them silently. Toph crosses her arms over her chest, content. 

Zuko clears his throat nervously. “So—“ 

“We’re going to be brother and sister!” Katara squeals. She throws her arms around Sokka and her soon-to-be brother-in-law. “Now this engagement I approve of!” 

Zuko lets out a nervous laugh—but hugs her back. Then they go through a round of congratulatory hugs. Toph hears Aang whisper sweet words to Sokka, then to Zuko. When it comes Toph’s turn, she shares in hugs and affectionate punches. 

“Uh,” Zuko says as they hug, “sorry about how weird things got.” 

“Hey, you’ve got plans over our wedding,” Toph says. “Can’t be helped. Don’t worry, I make a mean flower girl.” 

Zuko probably flashes an odd look—but then he laughs in tandem. 

Toph gives him a swift jab in the arm out of pride. 

“Ow!” 

*

They celebrate with a few round of drinks. Mai and Ty Lee are invited—and sure enough, Suki isn’t far away. 

Throuple, Toph mouths, but the newly engaged couple is too drunk in booze and happiness to notice. 

“Your aura is radiant!” Ty Lee gushes, as Suki gives them both a happy hug. 

“So happy for both of you!” Suki says. She turns to Zuko. “He’s a good one, I promise.” 

“You messed him up when he started smiling,” Mai tells Sokka wryly—though it ends with a polite (and slightly intimidating) handshake. 

Toph peels away with her first drink shortly after Katara breaks out Sokka’s Dream Wedding scrolls. She finds a place on the balcony away from the noise with a cup in her hand. 

Aang arrives not too long afterwards and tops off her drink. “Pretty crazy how turns turned out, right? Sokka and Katara are here one day and now he and Zuko are engaged.” 

Oh, boy. Toph braces herself for some not-so-subtle hints. “Yup. Pretty crazy.”

She takes a long swig of her wine. It’s definitely not heavy enough. 

Instead, Aang sounds more introspective than normal. “So, I did some math, and I was thinking.” 

“Monks taught you math?” 

He laughs softly and nudges her gently. Toph knows she reaches his shoulder at best. “Your parents were bugging you about marriage way before the swamp.” 

“Yeah, so?” 

“You said I’d know a fake engagement is different between us than you and Zuko. But that means that differentwould’ve been way before our…uh, vision.” 

Shit. Toph bites the inside of her mouth as she hears Aang’s brain making sparks too sober for the evening. 

“So,” Aang continues, his voice akin to the raspiness Zuko held on the beach. “If I made it different way before the swamp…why is that?” 

“Because we’re friends. Duh.” 

“Right,” Aang agrees—almost immediately. The disappointment is clear in his voice—but he doesn’t press further. “That makes sense. Duh.” 

Topi exhales another nervous breath. She sets her cup on the banister and shakes her hands. “And…maybe I didn’t need some smelly swamp to convince me we could have a bright future together. You and me.” 

Aang’s breath catches for a moment, his gaze fixated on Toph. 

She feels the pricks in her chest. The little pokes and gentle grazes Aang showed her on the beach. It’s far less cute, and way more nerve wracking. Terrifying. Too vulnerable for Toph. 

Only ever this vulnerable, when Aang and she push each other too far. 

“Wow, okay. Um.” Aang scratches his head. “Maybe I didn’t need a smelly swamp to tell me what I wanted in my future, either.” 

A lump swells in Toph’s throat. An uncomfortable rock that blocks her words and echoes with the pounding of her chest. It’s only ever been a feeling with Aang—something incomparable to the other guys she ever allowed to entertain her. 

“Maybe,” Toph says, “there was a reason I started turning down invitations from chumps in the towns we traveled, Twinkle Toes.” 

Aang stands tall with those words. Tall, sober, and full of his normal amount of air. Maybe more. She knows he’s recalling when those dates with other men stopped. Far before the swamp. 

“Um,” Aang says. He swallows hard. “Maybe there’s a reason I just went with you to your metalbending academy instead of just waiting. Maybe I like it a lot. Maybe—”

“Aang,” Toph interrupts sharply, her cheeks growing warm with heat. She knows she’s screwed if she doesn’t. 

“Toph,” Aang says, with the last breath in the world. He holds both her hands now, fingers gentle over her own. 

Shit. 

“Look, Twinkle Toes—”

“You,” he continues, “are the most hardheaded woman that I’ve ever met. You bring out the worst in me. Like, some days I wonder if I’m actually a pacifist like the monks taught because I legitimately want to punch something after you and I go at it.” 

Toph’s mouth hangs open. 

“But I think I’m better for it,” he continues softly. “I think—I think I needed someone like Katara in my life when I woke up and lost everything to process grief. But I also needed someone to challenge me, and tell me when I’m wrong even if I don’t like it. If there’s no one there to help me at my worst then there’s no way that I can be a fully realized person and get better.” 

He drops to his knees, as Toph’s throat goes dry. As her stance suddenly feels weaker and her legs feel close to buckling. 

“The swamp didn’t tell me we were going to have a special life together. It just confirmed something I already knew. So please—”

“Aang—”

“It’d be an honor to take you out on our first date,” He finishes sweetly. Earnestly. 

Toph is at a loss for words. 

“We don’t need something out there to tell us what we’re going to be. You’ve always known who you are and—sure, I ran away from it because I just wanted to be a kid,” Aang continues. Not with the gravitas that grates Toph’s nerves and gives her goosebumps, but the whimsy that got them as far as they have as friends. “With you I get to be a kid and the Avatar. I like me with you. And me needs you before even considering them. Them being destiny, and responsibilities, and all that other stuff.”

It takes a moment, but it finally catches up with her. Toph swallows hard, and one true doubt that’s festered since their fateful sight makes itself known. “And if it doesn’t turn out like the swamp vision?” 

“We’re gonna make a destiny so strong it’ll beat the vision up, Sifu T.” He’s smiling. It’s one of the few times Toph ever wishes for sight—to see this knucklehead’s unbridled joy with her own two eyes. 

But maybe it’s better, given how weak her own knees feel. 

“Whether it’s together as husband and wife,” Aang finished finally, “or just girlfriend and boyfriend—or just as friends.” 

Shit. 

Toph feels her own smile form, no cactus juice needed. It’s hard to recover any sense of mystery or demure. 

“I could be persuaded,” she says finally. Admits, like she’s wanted to before they ever made it to the dumb swamp. 

Aang lets go of a terrifying breath, suddenly his hands shaking around Toph’s own. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Woohoo!” He springs to his feet like a flower in the dirt, giddy. Aang expands his hands—and halts. 

Toph hugs him tightly. 

For the first time in ages, she buries her face in Aang’s chest—and has her own sigh of comfort. Aang wraps around her like a warm blanket—firm and bone-crushing in a way that seems freeing. Toph hears Aang’s heart skipping literal beats, his entire body tingling against her with excitement. 

“I missed this,” she admits first. She never admits things first. 

Aang hugs her even tighter. “Me too.” 

“Better be a damn good first date.” 

He laughs, and Toph thinks she understands exactly what he meant when Aang said her own laughter attracted him first. 

“I have an idea or two,” he promises. 

*

Toph wears a newly woven hanbok to the wedding. She’s told it’s a gentle shade of green, adorned by hand-painted cherry blossoms and accented with gold thread. There’s no argument with her mother about shoes. Her date wouldn’t care, anyway. 

He greets her before the ceremony, and Toph can hear the exhale of his breath. Aang reaches over and pushes a lock of hair behind her ear—a desire he’s been able to satiate over the last few weeks. “You look as beautiful as the day I met you.” 

“We met on an arena. I spit dirt out of my mouth.” 

“The duality of Toph,” Aang says. “The bridge between beautiful and murderous. It’s a choice.” 

Toph smiles broadly, because Aang’s always understood that. 

The wedding is unorthodox. Where Zuko’s best man is his betrothed, and his secondary is officiating. It’s hard to place the rest of them. Sokka requested Suki as his best man, as the most masculine woman he knew. Toph took offense to that. Katara also took offense for not being considered first. 

Then, Zuko mentioned he’d be honored to have Katara on his side after how far they’ve come in their relationship. Then they considered whether it was weird that Sokka’s ex-girlfriend was part of the wedding party. Then they decided it was only fair to ask Mai, too. Who always came with Ty Lee. 

In the end—something was concluded. 

Toph finds herself arm-in-arm with her best friend of six years, celebrating a love that also bloomed amongst friendship. 

Iroh delivers a heartfelt speech. He breaks the ice with a tea pun—and follows up with a pun about ice and the Water Tribe. Hakoda speaks to Sokka’s integrity, and his pride in both the son he raised and the son he gained. 

Aang speaks, too. Something about the longevity of their friendships and how he’s excited that Sokka and Zuko are starting a new chapter together, knowing they’re meant to be with each other. 

Toph expects the weight to carry as Aang looks upon her during the reception—but it’s not terrifying. Not exhausting, while the Fire Lord and his (self-called) Short King take the dance floor as a married couple for the first time. Instead, she lives in the moment of the wedding between Sokka and Zuko—and looks forward to remaining by Aang’s side once festivities wane. 

“So I’m your Fire Lady?” Sokka asks. 

“No. We can come up with a new name. Whatever you like,” Zuko says. 

“Never too late to undo today,” Toph advises, while Sokka is already stroking his chin in thought. 

“Fire Baron. Fire Duke. Fire Sokka. Fire Tribe Leader Sokka,” Sokka says. “Oh, oh! Fire Lord Wang Fire.” 

“But I’m married to Sokka,” Zuko says, confused. 

Toph snorts and tunes them out. She notices Aang staring in their direction pleasantly. “Getting ideas?” 

“Maybe,” he says. “Wanna dance?” 

“Dance—? Whoa—”

Before she knows it, Aang has her on the dance floor with a jaunty beat. She lurches in his arms, while he begins to hop from toe-to-toe, lively as ever. 

“Aang,” she criticizes sharply, “I don’t dance—”

“C’mon,” he pleads. “Don’t tell me the Blind Bandit is scared of dancing.” 

Toph follows his movements clumsily at first—and while any other instance would make her angry, she laughs. “You’re the worst.” 

“That’s what makes me better,” Aang teases back. “C’mon! It’s not that different from bending!” 

“Airbending, maybe—”

“Exactly!” Aang cheers. “Let me be your Sifu, Sifu T.” 

Toph relinquishes her refusal. She sighs in dramatic defeat—and allows Aang to arrange her. The music has a fast downbeat, accompanied by both a Tsungi horn and clever set of strings. She’d know the name of it if she wasn’t suddenly nervous about staying coordinated. 

“Airbending,” he whispers, “is all about freedom of expression. If one way is blocked, go another.” 

Toph’s cheeks flush red—but she tries to match his steps. Unsurprisingly, she’s got a heavier foot than he does. “I feel ridiculous.” 

“It’s bitter work,” Aang agrees. “But I won’t let go.” 

Trust Aang to know the ancient choreography or something from a hundred years ago. She’d complain more—but that would only admit how difficult she finds it. 

Eventually, Toph finds the rhythm. She matches his steps—having nothing but a leap of faith when her feet have to leave the ground for more than a second. 

“Look who’s the Fancy Dancer now,” he teases. 

Toph throws her head back in a laugh. 

He’s so, so lame. 

But the pearl he found on the beach clicks against her clavicle. It hugs an opal pendant—gifted from her mother, as something she wore on her own wedding day. 

The song slows, until the hopping isn’t required anymore. Instead, Aang holds onto her securely, and they sway. 

“I can do this one,” Toph says. 

“Great,” Aang says, “because I really like staring at you.” 

Ugh. She was not going to get used to that. 

But—she liked the unpredictability that came with it. And being held by Aang like this should’ve happened a long time ago. Way before a smelly swamp requested it. 

“So what’s next?” She asks as her feet glide in rhythm with his. 

“Probably another fast song. And some karaoke. Hakoda apparently has the voice of an Ember Island Opera Singer,” Aang says.

“I meant for us, Twinkle Toes.” Toph raises an eyebrow—but it’s all out of love. 

“Oh, easy.” 

“Easy?” 

Dancing comes easy to Aang. It surprises Toph when she’s dipped. She makes a noise—but Aang’s arm simply slides from the small of her back to her waist and tightens firmly. 

He reaches down and kisses her. Their lips press together for the first time as a couple—since planning this first date at Sokka and Zuko’s wedding. 

And—like everything with Aang, Toph feels lighter. 

It only lasts a second—but Toph wishes they didn’t wait so long to get here. When Aang pulls away, he keeps close. His breath tickles against Toph’s mouth. 

“I wait,” he whispers softly, “until you let me do that again.” 

God. Not a bender alive could convince Toph that she wasn’t just sent to the Spirit World. 

Toph makes a mental note to thank Zuko later for her life-changing adventure. 

She reaches for the back of his head and plants a firmer kiss against Aang’s mouth. She’ll damn sure do it as many times as she wants.