Chapter Text
Last night.
Toph Beifong had stood up against boulders aimed for her head and the worst of her parents' coddling.
Tonight, everything comes crashing down, bit by bit, as her patience finally chips away.
The fountain by the shores of Yue Bay was a work in progress at best. Its stone edges were carved with the precision of a confident child who’d run off with a sculptor’s chisel. They were sharp at some ends, others uneven, which even sanding couldn't smooth out. That was expected of this growing town. Just a few months ago, the meek little town wasn’t even called Republic City—rather, it had been a bustling industrial hub where machines ran into the night and benders from all over the world started anew. Cranefish Town.
Aang and Katara called it special. So much so they decided this barren patch of land was worthy of becoming a home—even worse, according to Toph—the perfect location for a wedding.
In hindsight, the growing town was the fruit of the Hundred-Year War and a campaign toward peace between the Four Nations. The colonies had been one of the most difficult remnants of the war. Generations of Earth Kingdom–Fire Nation families resented being forced to choose where they belonged, while the Earth Kingdom council was hardly satisfied with the compromise either.
To Toph, it was everything she couldn’t face.
Just over a mile away, a factory roared into its never-ending day. Like clockwork, benders refined earthen impurities from ore into product. Machines hummed like a swarm of bees with merciless stamina, and gears ground enough to ring ears. But unlike the dozens of other businesses sleeping from a long day of work or humming to life in that same district, this one stuck out like a sore thumb.
The Earth and Fire Industries Refinery.
A decade ago, she, Aang, Katara, and Sokka had stumbled onto its grounds by the cruel irony of fate. Toph wished to remember that place for the foul smell of its rivers, the epic battle against a spirit she held her ground against, or her incredible feat of keeping a mine from collapsing on herself and others for hours. Yet every step reminded her of everything she had buried away. Lao’s shame spat into every syllable at her, and the skip of her heart at the man who had seen her as more than just a blind girl.
She couldn’t dare to extend her senses to learn of its state. Part of her knew enough. The relentless thrumming of machinery was migraine-inducing enough without her effort to block the vibrations out. But beyond those metal walls could have been the same man she hadn’t felt in days.
And maybe that’s why she chose the ache of footsteps rivaling stampedes. At least for a while.
Katara was seated with Aang across the room where family and friends gathered to offer presents and wishes for a warm home and cots for children. Palms slapped against the membrane of animal skin in organized rhythms. Fiddles played in harmony beneath the whistles of flutes, and dancers swept through the floor in twirls and strides, in the motion of cresting waves.
It felt like noise.
On any normal occasion, the Fire Lord would be the center of attention. Luckily, this night wasn’t about him or some royal proclamation that could reshape his Nation. So never in a million years would anyone imagine the Fire Lord eloping from an important function, let alone a wedding, which happened to be the Avatar’s. If he hadn’t ordered guards to remain stationed on his airship, far away from the festivities, the entire armada may have gone searching for him before he could uncork a bottle or take a bite of the savory skewer he was coerced into taking with him.
Which was exactly why the mastermind behind this mischief was none other than Toph Beifong.
Her name was written all over it. The Fire Lord, who carried a century of war-torn guilt over his shoulders, was the same man who scurried past servants with trays of meat skewers and a bowl of firecrackers Toph had stolen from the buffet. The same man who led a Nation was the same man who walked in tow to a giggling earthbender whose arms cradled enough alcohol to take down an army of Fire Nation soldiers during music night.
Zuko didn’t know why he had done it. Not when the trays rattled in his hold as evidence of his mischief, and faint lines of light guided them to the gardens. But maybe if his mind were a little less hazy from the cups Toph had pushed into his system, he would’ve known.
Zuko had seen it in the distance of her useless gaze that lacked the snark she often carried—instead, carrying the weight of the world in each inhale and exhale of her breath as she fidgeted with the cup. Toph Beifong never sat idly without purpose or reason. She listened to beating hearts and the whispers of earth against the soles of her feet. He did not try to truly read her then, not where prying eyes waited for the strong woman to crumble. But if she ever asked, the pleasure would have been all his.
Why is she so insistent on leaving?
The night air was cool with the moon’s light shining from above. Somewhere in the gardens, by a stone fountain, two people escaped the noise of a buzzing celebration. Away from listening ears, prying eyes, and a facade the world had seen too many times. Where snatched flasks and gourds stood scattered like pillars in a temple and meat skewers displayed like offerings before gods.
“Everybody keeps talking all about marriages like it’s the only thing for them to chase. Like that’s all there is to life,” Toph began, tilting a cup to him, “It’s pathetic, honestly.”
Zuko raised an eyebrow. “How is that pathetic?”
She smirked, pouring another cup full of the clear liquid-regret. “Because it is.”
“That’s not exactly an explanation.”
She shrugged.
Zuko didn’t get the chance to protest before the cup was shoved into his hand. The Fire Lord was a responsible drinker––which was why he wished she could see the deadpan expression written across his face.
“What, is this stuff not fancy enough for your liking, Fire Lord? Would you rather I ferment some fancy berries from the highest peaks of Ba Sing Se?” Toph snickered, raising her eyebrows.
“No. I’ve had enough alcohol for one night already, and you have too. You can’t drink like this forever.” Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose, drawing a slow breath through his lips. “Toph, if there's something you want to talk about, lay it on me. I’d rather you tell me what’s bothering you than drowning yourself in-”
“Lightweight.” She spat, allowing an evil smirk to tear through her lips.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Hey, Zuko, am I doing this right?” She pointed to her eyes. “Am I doing it right? I’m trying to roll my eyes at you.”
“Toph, I’m serious.”
“You always are. Stop being a worrywart and live it up sometimes, Sparky. You’re aging yourself faster than all the old men you hang out with all the time. It’s getting depressing to hear about you just burning your days away by sitting still and reading all day.” She taunted, shrugging her shoulders. She took another sip of the cup as if its bitter taste hadn’t burned its musky flavor onto her tongue yet. “You don’t have to be the Fire Lord here.”
His fist momentarily tightened around the ceramic body of his cup, leaving its rigid structure at the mercy of his grip. To his dismay, he gave in. At least, if little sips counted as drinking.
“So… how exactly is marriage stupid?”
“It’s a hassle.”
“How is commitment a hassle? It’s only an inconvenience if you marry someone you cannot tolerate,” he countered. “You know you get to choose who you marry, right?”
“Doesn’t make a difference. It just makes it worse when you get tired of that person.” She started, pouring half the cup down her throat before her voice could crack. “Imagine waking up one day realizing that you not only screwed yourself over for some dumb infatuation, but also not being able to get those wasted years back. Even worse, being tied to someone you thought you could put up with and being wrong. No thank you.”
“Then they may just not be the right person to marry.”
“And?” She snapped her head towards him. “That just proves my point. Marriage is bad.”
“Marriage with the wrong person is bad. Not the union itself.”
She frowned. “That doesn’t make any difference at all. How are you supposed to know if someone is the one? Oh, will a giant lion turtle just magically show up and tell you on a night of a full moon?” She sneered, flailing her arms to imitate a Lion Turtle’s mane. “Or maybe, Appa will write it down for you to read out like some prophecy.”
“Well, I–” Zuko stumbled. The Fire Lord had never stumbled—never before thousands who analyzed his every word down to the pitch of his dictation, or before blades pointed to his head. He tried to find the words.
“Exactly. You can’t know. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into until it’s too late to turn back.”
A quiet silence filled the air between them. The crack of firecrackers crushed by teeth, along with the sips of booze, spoke for themselves. It was strange. Zuko was used to drinking the finest wine brewed by the most noble vintner in the Fire Nation––not in a measly ceramic cup, but in golden glasses worth more than small villages. He was accustomed to the crisp air of high society and to talks of policy with silk-clad ministers flocking to him for political leverage.
Tonight, he was merely a commoner drinking booze beneath the moonlight; exposed to the cold air that was foreign to the nights of Caldera. His robes draped across his broad shoulders like the snowy caps of a mountain range. Dust and debris latched onto his velvets and silk garments, lodging themselves for servants to scrub away tirelessly in the day.
It felt reminiscent of the simpler days during his youth when life threw only survival and the Avatars as obstacles at him rather than the thousands his council did. He almost smiled, until he remembered the hunger of those hot days through the desert and narrowly escaping what could have been his death at the hands of Azula.
Toph shifted against the fountain, the silks of her hanfu seeping into the cracks of stone. She dragged her ropey hands through the bodice, then the folds of silk, pulling them loose from sticking to her skin. The silk whispered to the solace of the night as it spilled onto the steps like a pool of jade. Then the cup clicked against the ground as she traded it for a wooden skewer from one of the silver trays she made him carry.
With one hand, she shoved it into her mouth so her teeth could pull the rubbery meat off the stick. The meat landed on her tongue, coating it with its oily, briny saltiness, reminiscent of the Arctic oceans Katara and Sokka grew up with. It was chewy and dense against the force of her jaw, yet clean when swallowed. The taste was unlike the rich flavors or the fresh meat Toph was accustomed to in the Earth Kingdom. But Toph could not care, especially because it was edible.
She flicked her wrist away from her head, pulling away metal hairpins from her head with precise metal bending. The loss of tension holding her mane together released the stream of jet-black silk that poured over her shoulders, then her face. The breeze latched onto the strands, carrying them to the pull of the wind, captivating the Fire Lord’s amber eyes mid-bite.
Her nails dug at her scalp, scratching the bed of hair out of annoyance, before dropping the metal pins into a pile at the edge of the stone rim. Jade and gems glimmered beneath the moonlight as they adorned the golden stems of the pin, yet only her seafoam green eyes captivated him.
Messy. Sharp eyes and a sharper tongue. Packed with enough muscle to put shame upon most men claiming to be in the army.
She was unbecoming of a lady.
Everything high society frowned upon in a woman. The epitome of dishonor upon a family tasked to domesticate their daughters into wives and mothers for a father wealthy enough to set out a dowry for. The kind of woman high society condemned into submission, to subjugate into lifelong servitude to the throne through pressure and control.
Her own parents condemned her.
From the moment she set foot onto his airship that fateful morning, she was merely an ounce better than the Toph he had known during his teenage years.
But all he could imagine was a warrior wrapped in silk, whose muscles were carved by over a decade of discipline, concealed without hiding strength or power. A warrior who needed silence from whatever plagued her.
It was alluring in the most incomprehensible way.
“I’m bored now. Wanna play a game?”
He stopped mid-chew, nodding quietly.
“How about two truths and a lie?”
Zuko paused to swallow the meat he had chewed up. “How is that fair? You can tell if I’m lying.”
“Just because I can doesn’t mean I will, Sparky.” She smirked. “You really think I’d lie and cheat?”
“You had no problem back then.” He raised an eyebrow, but his lips quirked into a lopsided grin. It was not the practiced smile he offered to the noblemen nipping at his heels for influence or gold; rather, it looked almost awkward.
“Boo, you’re no fun.” She yawned. Her ropey fingers palmed the base of her head before they laced themselves with her jet-black strands. Toward the ends, her untamed mane tangled into a fuzz around the tips of her fingers. She huffed a few times between forcing her fingers through and picking at the ends before releasing them onto her shoulder.
Zuko chuckled into the cup, giving in to the silence of the night as he finally tore his gaze away from her. “Fine, fine. I once freed Aang from a Fire Nation prison during my banishment with nothing but my dual swords and a mask; I have a pet dragon… and I have never cheated on a game of Pai Sho.”
“Child’s play. The last one.” Toph rolled her eyes. “Took you too long to come up with that one, I’m afraid. I could sense you lying from a mile away.”
“Well then… I enjoy indulging in sweets during my leisure time, I can do archery, and I have an allergy to feathers.”
“Obviously the first one. You don’t get time to yourself as a Fire Lord.” She answered, folding an arm over her chest while a smug grin crept into her face. “Besides, you prefer savory meats––the obviously better coping mechanism.”
Zuko paused. You remember?
Small sips came more naturally as the night deepened. By the time he looked down, his cup was already refilled with another serving of booze.
“Mhmmm… My parents weren’t insufferable when I was a kid,” she scoffed, picking her nose with the nail of her pinky finger. “I rejected a proposal from the Earth Queen’s nephew,” then paused to savor the final words, “I’m the Greatest Earthbender in the world….”
One moment he was about to take a delicate sip of the wine Toph had just opened. Next, the poor Fire Lord was coughing up wine lodged in his throat before his eyes could widen. Purple stains bled across the grass and stone.
“Toph, you did what?!”
The smirk painted onto her face lit up the night sky. “Was that a guess, Sparky?” Her voice was innocent, so sweetly condescending while his neurons failed to fire.
Only Toph Beifong could drop scandal-worthy information without batting an eye or creating fanfare. His jaw threatened to dislocate itself from how far it had dropped. Toph merely crossed a leg over the other, her knees sagging onto the stone without a care in the world—as if her revelation for their little game were as mundane as feeding turtleducks in the royal garden’s fountains.
“How did you even meet Marquise Yao? His family is elusive when it comes to public appearances, let alone with people who aren’t royalty. It’s allegedly difficult to get a hold of anyone in his family without prior authorization that takes weeks at best!”
She grumbled, sighing deeply as the headache from her encounter with him resurfaced, “My dad was on my back about going to some prissy banquet. I was unfortunate enough to be graced by his insufferable presence.”
“Ah…” Zuko glanced at the cup in his hand, catching sight of the reflection of his gilded crown in the wine. “Why did you reject him…if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Because why should I have accepted?” She raised an eyebrow. ”Besides…why do you care so much about marriage, huh?” Toph probed, rather than asked. Alcohol hadn’t made her forget the answer she already knew. It just made her bolder.
“Because marriage is a beautiful thing…” He sighed, allowing himself to trail off. The same intensity in his gaze melted as he stared, looking into the starry night. “... and at some point I have to get married.” He added, “Marriages bring alliances, stability, continuation. My nation needs those to thrive. My lineage needs to survive, or else the royal family will end with me.“ Each word fell like routine.
In his childhood, his life as the heir to the throne was almost set in stone. He imagined a life of opulence and glory, inheriting the golden throne after his father would serve his reign as the Fire Lord. He could almost see the throne room draped in the finest velvet, and a Fire Lady seated at his right hand with their children cradled by royal silks. It was as clear as a flame in the night. A future with Mai was almost within reach when he had returned from his banishment. Back when having Mai in his arms still ignited a burning passion within him.
Stability. Perfection. Lineage.
It may have been happiness at the time.
“You don’t have to marry. You’re the Fire Lord; you can do anything.”
“The crown doesn’t absolve me from the consequences of reckless conduct. I can’t simply evade my responsibility to my people, especially not now. Responsibility is the difference between plunging citizens into poverty and prosperity. I have a nation to rebuild, and millions to nurture.”
“Sounds like you’re already married to the Fire Nation.”
And if it weren’t the truth, he would have laughed.
Marriage was an obligation. It didn’t matter if his heart bled out before the council because the throne needed a child to be born.
Toph allowed a few moments to pass, for the acidic burn of the alcohol to cling to her tongue before she clicked it to the roof of her mouth. “If you ask me, you should do what makes you happy. Just look at me! I ran away from home––and I’d do it again! If I never left Gaoling, I would’ve never met Aang, Sokka, Katara…” her voice softened for a fraction of a second, “…and you. Now, I get to show the world why I’m the Greatest Earthbender in the World. Nobody can tell me no. Nobody can tell me what I can’t do. Easy.”
Zuko crunched onto more firecrackers, grumbling in response. “Easy for you to s-say.”
You’re already losing to the booze.
She chuckled, “Not entirely. It was more about… doing.” She flicked her wrist into a circular motion, almost as if to explain. “The world is whatever we make of it. We have the illusion of having no choice… but really, it’s just meh. You get to define what you want out of life––not the other way around.”
“You only get to say that because you don’t have a nation on your back. Just a single day without me fulfilling my duties could send the stability of my nation to collapse. You may think a few proclamations are a waste of time, but it holds more weight than you think––more than you care to understand.” He scoffed, pouring the sweet sensation of alcohol down his throat. “Too many civilians rely on my power to secure a future for them and their children. The consequences don’t fall on my shoulders; they crush the backs of the most vulnerable who seek refuge in me. "
Her eyebrows snapped together in a rigid line. “You speak as if my Academy sustains itself. Who do you think keeps my students’ mouths fed and beds warm? Guess who built it from the ground up when it was nothing but a run-down dojo during your colony crisis?!” She pointed accusingly, “You dare to tell me ‘it’s easy for me’ as if everything came easy for me. When I left home, I lost everything. My family, my wealth, my ho––” She bit back. Her throat felt tight, right where muscles locked to hold onto words she would never say aloud. “I’m just saying that it’s all a choice, Zuko.”
“You had Aang and the others. You wandered off fine because all you had to worry about was yourself. But is it truly a choice if there are severe consequences awaiting my people? Do I truly have a choice when families are left stricken with poverty and a nation crumbles beneath the weight of its own empty throne?!” He raised his voice, but not at her. Never at her.
For a moment, the words caught in her throat.
For once, the Toph Beifong who made mountains tremble and metal bend out of pure spite had nothing to say.
“I didn’t tell you to elope with some woman or run away from the Fire Nation. I’m telling you to choose yourself. It’s all about your priorities and where they are. If anything, you’re just showing me your priority is the Fire Nation. But is that really what you want? Because it sounds to me that you just aren’t willing to take the risk for someone.”
“What would you know about risking it for someone?!”
The empty gourd was tipped over onto the stone steps of the fountain. Porcelain shattered into fragments, scattering all over the steps.
Damn it.
She couldn’t do this sober.
Judging from the way the ceramic cracked in his grasp, neither could he.
“What the hell are you getting at?! That I’m selfish because I’d rather live my life the way I want to?!”
“I never implied that–” the pads of his fingers massaged the skin at his temples.
“Then what?!”
He raised a palm in an attempt to calm her. “Toph, I’m asking you how you’d know what sacrifice means when you haven’t–” Zuko stopped; with wide eyes and a racing heart, he realized that the right words eluded him.
She chuckled, low, vibrating like an earthquake forming from the very plates that held their world together. “Right, that’s what you all think of me, Zuko?” Her palms dragged over her sockets, then lips, smearing the tints of black from her eyes to her cheeks, and the faint pinks over her chin. “Well, I’m so sorry I’m not some prissy, powder-perfect girl who just wants marriage to come in and save me. Because unlike you and those other stuck-ups who can only care about wealth and image, I don’t just suck up to the shit some old folks want me to.” The ground trembled just a fraction, clacking pebbles against one another. “Unlike you, I choose my own life.”
The silence that followed was sharp. Zuko waited for a worthy response to offer to her with bated breath.
It never came.
Toph didn’t apologize; there was nothing for her to apologize for.
Toph had every power in the world to bury him in rubble or sink him to the earth’s core. She had sent men flying off the ground for less. Zuko should have found himself drenched in lava, reduced to nothing but ash and smoke at the mercy of the earth. Yet he remained sitting as still as a statue before the heat of her gaze.
The wind howled into the deep night and swept past them. It failed miserably at cooling the heat radiating from their heads and cheeks.
She slammed the cup onto the stone when she sat back down, shattering it into fragments like the gourds. Instead, she reached for the closest bottle to drown out memories from resurfacing. Its rim kissed her lips as she spilled nearly half of its contents in a single swig. Flavor evaded her as its scalding liquid stripped the lining in her throat bare. One gourd. Another flask. She could not have bothered to count.
Tamed.
A wonderful bride.
A mother-
Whether alcohol gave her control over her emotions or numbed her was the least of her concerns. Not even when Zuko’s voice had faded into the night.
Anything to prevent herself from daring to remember him. The burning sensation in her was almost suffocating, but it was better than the hallucination of eucalyptus leading her into his arms again. Not when her bed was haunted by the ghost of his passion—or when her lips ached for the bruising force of his.
She made her choice long ago.
The dam she had built had survived days on the road with Ning, and a brutal match against her students when control tried to slip away. Surely this was nothing.
Zuko kept her from suffocating that night. She had downed enough alcohol to numb out any possibility of a thought forming. Toph’s earthbending only kept him from taking away her booze for so long. Eventually, her own escape had made her senses sloppy, slow, and earth pillars had begun to miss Zuko.
“W-w-we’re so….pathetic..” She slurred on his shoulder, trying to reclaim the remaining flask. “W-w-w-we…. Can’t just be happy in this life…”
“Can you walk?” he whispered, his warm breath kissing the tip of her ear.
“Mhmmmm, obviouslyyyyy…” The rush of red dusting her cheeks betrayed her instantly.
He chose not to wait for her. The thick velvet robe tailored for the Fire Lord was off his shoulders, and onto hers without a thought. The fiery velvet embraced her from the cool breeze of the night, protecting her as her alcohol stripped her ability to regulate the temperature properly. His forearm slid right beneath her knees before her lolling head could slam onto the stone steps. He scooped her deadweight into his arms and pressed her close to his chest. His own eyes might have shut from all the spirits she pressured him into drinking, but at least he could walk in a somewhat straight line.
Aang was kind enough to walk Zuko through the endless halls of the temple. The Fire Lord, in his haze of slow, steadied steps, had worried Aang into believing that a gust of wind would have knocked him over. Although their state earned a compassionate earful from Aang, his scolding was accompanied by patient guidance.
The Avatar was also lucky that Toph and Zuko were distracted enough to overlook the flushed faces he and a half-dressed Katara had when he almost walked into their room. Aang learned the importance of remembering to lock doors that night.
Ever the considerate friend he was, Aang opened the door for them as Zuko wobbled onto the bed, before leaving in a hurry. It was his wedding night after all…
With the final sparks of Zuko’s strength and rationality burning at their end, he laid her limp body in the covers with the same care he would have given to an infant. Even with his head pounding against the walls of his skull and fuzzy vision, he knew better than to leave her in that state. His shaky hands stripped her shoes off with blurry precision, placing them in what he hoped was a reasonable spot. Then, he pulled the covers from beneath her to drape the linen over her still-shivering body; its hem landed softly onto her flushed cheeks.
And if time could have stopped itself from racing, he would have stopped it there.
There.
Where his gaze could linger without the scrutiny of a Nation itching for an heir and a doll to stifle.
Where the sheets kept his wishful gaze safe from interrogation of her seismic sense.
Somehow, the mess of her jet-black locks cradling her face and the smeared pigments all over her face rivaled a thousand golden dawns in Caldera.
But maybe it was the blur in his vision.
Self-respect pulled him away before hope bloomed in his chest. After all, he was the Fire Lord. She was The Toph Beifong. The greatest Earthbender in the world—who had a legacy to build.
As he stood up to leave, a pillar of earth knocked him into the bed, right next to her.
Alcohol and exhaustion sank him deep into the soft escape of the mattress. After a long day of travel, social interaction, and Spirits knew how much alcohol coursed through his system, he decided it took significantly more energy to find his own room to crash into than to pull the covers over himself. This bed was an insult compared to the heavy brocade the Fire Nation offered its Lord. It was modest, cool, and lacked the space for an entourage to assist him for the ceremonious ritual of the Fire Lord waking up.
Yet it was the closest thing to the feeling of home. Zuko closed his eyes without haste, not like the restless nights he spent in the palace. It didn’t matter whether it was alcohol or peace that lulled him into a foreign rest, because the crown had robbed him of it for too long.
For a moment, her hand brushed against his.
It dragged against the sheets, almost hesitant, until it laced through his calloused fingers––warm like an ember when the last of a flame dies, daring to brand the sensation of his body onto her skin.
Then, almost imperceptibly, his hand curled around hers.
Neither of them woke.
They had already surrendered to the clutches of slumber, where neither responsibility nor consequence had to exist.
Because maybe, just maybe…in another life.