Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lieutenant Jee approached the general as quietly as he could, watching the ship up shore starting to dock. “Looks like they’re here, sir.”

“Have you seen my nephew?” The general’s eyes were also on the ship, his expression particularly grim. Jee could hear the wood of the other vessel creaking as its crew bustled, laying anchor and possibly…sweeping the deck?

Earth Kingdom merchants. Typical.

“At the stern, sir, last I checked.”

“Which was?” General Iroh was unusually terse, but Jee couldn’t blame him. Everyone on board was tense today.

“Fifteen minutes ago, sir. Had a spyglass, was watching the ship come in.”

It was a carefully gentler tone the general used to ask, “Did he say anything?”

“No.”

“Ah, well.”

Shifting slightly, Jee asked, “You mentioned he was going to meditate after breakfast?”

“He did,” General Iroh confirmed, taking a half second to let his eyes find Jee before focusing again on the other ship. It looked like the actual passengers were being brought up. A man and two women, one almost tripping with each step, Jee thought. He almost missed General Iroh’s, “A slow, steady burn, down to a stub. On all thirty of the candles,” he added so dryly Jee wouldn’t have been surprised if the air around them combusted.

“At once?” Mostly likely, but he had to know.

“Oh yes, captain. Most certainly at once.” And then General Iroh added, “But not the two memorial ones.”

Right. Those. The prince kept them with the meditation ones. Spirits, the boy was crazy.

“Should we start disembarking?” Jee asked, knowing it was really the prince he should be asking. Also knowing it was probably the general who was going to make any of this happen smoothly. The prince was far too paranoid…

“Let me check with my nephew,” General Iroh said, starting to turn. “He may wish to wait until—“

There was a loud splash and a woman’s scream. Jee and General Iroh threw themselves against the rail, spotting the ripples in the water at the same time. Just as they heard a splash from the stern.

“It would seem,” General Iroh said, moving quickly towards the bow, “that it is time for us to head to shore.”

“I’ll get the medic,” Jee said, half running for the stairs.

This was not an auspicious start.

Drowning sucked.

Toph had accepted that might be the case when she’d found the edge of the ship. She wasn’t thrilled about it, but she wasn’t thrilled about being offered up as a fancy doll either. Some things, you just had to take into your own hands.

She probably shouldn’t be holding her breath, she thought as she thrashed. The thrashing was instinct. And useless. Especially in this dress. She should just open her mouth and—

Something—someone—grabbed her. From behind. Had she gotten turned around? Had they already found her?

Dammit, she had to—

Choking also sucked. Swallowing water instead of air, the thick weight of the water pulling her down as something clamped around her stomach, dragging her. All of this, all of this sucked. Everything everywhere sucked.

They hit the surface. Toph felt it on the top of her head, but kept hanging limp, her face in the water. She had to—

The arm around her waist tightened, heaved. Her head broke the water and landed on something solid, something warm. Something swearing like a sore loser after a rumble.

If she hadn’t been retching water all over it, she might have laughed.

“Prince Zuko!” someone called, but the voice in her ear didn’t respond. Just kept swearing as she scrabbled violently, hoping it looked, felt panicked. Not deliberate. He had to drop her.

They sank twice more as they moved through the water. Only for a brief second before he dragged them up again, and the last time Toph gave up. She’d wasted her chance. So she hung on her rescuer’s arm, pinned against him, and made sure to vomit all over his shoulder when he started hauling them out of the water and onto—

Wood. Not as smooth as the ship deck, probably the dock, Toph thought as she retched and retched and retched, feeling the wind break and the slight warmth of people crowding around. There were professional voices, stern voices, the crying voice of her mother (she didn’t get to cry, she hadn’t helped), and coughing not too far from Toph’s head.

“Just give us a few hours,” her father was saying. “Let her rest, we’ll get her cleaned up.”

“No.” Everything quieted at that voice. Even Toph stilled, feeling the threat of that one word, the crackle of it. “Give her a blanket. Get her up. You’re signing for her and the ceremony’s short. We have twenty minutes and we need to be gone.”

“Prince Zuko,” her father was half babbling, half stern. “Surely you don’t have any other urgent matters to see to toda—“

“We agreed to meet on Earth Kingdom ground so you could avoid problems,” the prince seemed to be spitting words out. Of all the warm bodies around her, Toph felt his like a hot rock, baked all day in the sun. “We can’t stay here long. I won’t endanger my men.”

“O—of course.”

It was Toph’s mother that wrapped her in a blanket, whispering and crying into Toph’s ear as she tried to lead her daughter along. The wooden dock would have been bad enough, but these damn shoes squelching on her feet made every step slick and off balance. They hadn’t made it far at all before that sun baked arm was around Toph’s waist, bracing her as she was almost dragged to…somewhere down the dock.

Couldn’t have taken her to proper land could they?

There was the crinkle of papers and the hot spot next to Toph moved, almost dumping her onto her mother. Some mumbling Toph didn’t track, noises like things being moved, maybe ceramics?

“I need your hand,” the spark voice said, before burning fingers touched hers. “This may hurt.”

He projected his movements well, she thought as he turned her hand palm up, ran his thumb just under her fingers, placed a knife along the line he’d traced, made a quick, shallow cut.

It was tempting to say, “Ow,” just to break the solemnity around them. But Toph wasn’t speaking where her parents could hear it. She’d already promised herself.

“For strength, for honor, by the will of Agni,” he almost sounded like he was choking on that name. There were other words, but Toph didn’t follow them. Didn’t scream or even flinch when he dragged his thumb over the cut, the movement slick with blood. Did half gasp when his mouth touched hers, sticky, wet, and hot. “Now child of Fire, by breath and by blood.”

There was a mumbled, “—this necessary?” and a grunt with a soft thud.

A small cup was pressed into her hand. She had the impulse to drop it, or even throw it, but either he guessed, or he had no idea that she knew where her own mouth was, because fire fingers held the hand with the cup and guided it to her mouth.

The alcohol was bitter as she sipped. Once, twice, three times. Ugh.

“We’re done. If she has any things to take with her, just bring them here. My men will load them.”

“That was fast,” someone muttered. He sounded familiar, like one of the men from her father’s ship.

“The core of the marriage ceremony is a promise before Agni and mortal witnesses,” the voice explaining wasn’t exactly cheerful, but there was a happy menace to it. “The sun is high, so Agni sees us, and we are present. It is enough.”

“As long as it’s binding,” Toph’s father said. “Your father said—“

“He’ll keep his word, whatever he told you. To the exact letter.”

There was a hint of spite in that sparking voice now. If she hadn’t been shivering and blind, Toph might have wondered about it.

Oh, and married.

“You said she’s an earthbender?” the question was seeking confirmation, but he could have asked her. She was right here.

Not that she would have answered.

“Yes, Prince Zuko.”

“How much earth does she need on board to stay stable while she’s traveling?”

“She—what?”

There was a long silence, broken only by the sound of something almost hissing as the warm body in front of her shimmered with heat. “For her bending. To avoid element deprivation. How much stone do you carry?”

If she could have, Toph would have laughed at the uncomfortable sounds her father was making. It was almost funny. Almost.

Her legs throbbed under the cloth and cords.

“Never mind,” the prince snapped. Then, away from her, “Grab those and bring them on board. We can dump some if she doesn’t need that many.” Then, that hot hand suddenly grabbing her elbow, “Are you ready?”

She couldn’t answer. The answer was no, absolutely no, never, never, never, never.

But they’d already moved past that point. She wasn’t going to be able to throw herself off the dock and get away. There should be a beach close, with loose rocks or sand. She could almost feel it, hazy and distant. But she wouldn’t get there without being caught. Wouldn’t scramble and crawl like a baby trying to get off the dock.

So she didn’t answer, but she did let him start leading her away.

“Toph?” her mother’s voice trembled. Strained. “It—It’ll be okay.”

That didn’t deserve an answer. It didn’t get one.

Chapter Text

Everything still sucked. Toph shivered as she half shuffled and was half dragged across the dock, the shrieks from her mother and complaints from her father barely registering past the heat that seemed to flicker through the fingers and arm that supported her, wrapped around her back and arms, warmth seeping through the blanket.

The ramp they went up seemed solid as she slid up, like it was all one piece. The ship too didn’t have the slight almost give she had come to expect from wood.

And the clanging…was the whole ship metal?

She tried pressing her feet as flat as she could, not quite stomping them but trying to test the vibrations. No good. There might be something there, but it wasn’t making it through the soles of these damned shoes.

And why were they just standing?

“Sir, we’ve moved the rocks and her trunks up. Anything else?”

“Bandage,” her escort said. “And ask Uncle if he’s planning on making tea.”

“I was just going to ask if you wanted some,” that almost cheerful voice responded, solid and steady. “Why don’t you take her up while I start preparing it? I’ll come find you when it’s ready.”

The sound of a movement near her head, maybe a nod. “Can you make sure we leave in the next ten minutes?”

“Yes, I will see to that first. Now get her upstairs. She can’t be comfortable in her wet things.”

Maybe, but Toph sure as bedrock wasn’t going to be comfortable out of them.

But apparently that didn’t bother the prince. He didn’t say anything else as he started dragging her along again, not until they got to some stairs where he said, “Each step is two handspans high. Can you find them?”

There wasn’t any inflection to the question. No pity, no judgement. Just simple inquiry, yes or no. Toph tested his measure, not sure if she kept bumping her toes into steel because their concept of hands was too different, or if he was just bad at this.

Maybe both.

After two false movements, Toph just dragged her toes forward and up, tracing each stair and finding the top as they went. It was slow, but he didn’t complain. He did move into her space, letting people pass, once or twice. That was awful.

After more stairs than her wet, cloth smothered toes ever wanted to see again, they started walking down a hallway and then he turned them, probably into a room by the new echoes. He shuffled her sideways and helped her find a seat on the floor.

Which was a relief.

Everything was metal that was the ship. When her fingers touched it she could almost make out the intermittent echo of vibrations that would have told her exactly where she was. Fuzzy, but better than nothing. She could track that he was moving not just by sound, although she wouldn’t put any money on the precision.

A glimmer in her senses said there were rocks in the room. Real ones. But not close enough for her to just reach out and touch.

“Here, let me get your hand.”

He’d made an effort to not sound like a complete bully, she thought. But she didn’t give him her hand, just pulled her fingers into fists. “It’s fine. Doesn’t even hurt.”

Much. Squeezing it twinged.

“We should cover it,” he insisted, shuffling closer and brining warmth with him. “So it doesn’t get infected.”

She shook her head. “It’s a scratch.”

“It’s not.”

The tone made her pull her fists in against her stomach, leaning over them to keep them away from him. “No.”

She could feel the air crackling as he breathed. “Fine.” And then, “Do you need help getting out of your dress?”

“No!” she didn’t shout, but she wasn’t leaving this up for interpretation. “I’m fine.”

“You’re soaking wet,” he objected. “You’re going to have to change at some point. I can get one of the female officers to help, if you’d prefer, but if you don’t put on something dry you might get sick.”

There was a silent, “And that would be inconvenient,” tacked on, so clear even Toph could pick it out. And she barely knew the guy. “You have female officers?”

“Not many,” the prince said. “Only two on this ship. Do you want them?”

“No,” Toph said, pulling the blanket tighter around her. “I’ll change later. When I’m less wet.”

She’d been dressing herself for years. Once she knew there her clothes were, she’d get herself sorted out.

The noise he made was almost like a growl, and Toph giggled. It was like a badgermole.

He froze. She could feel his complete stillness, couldn’t even hear him breathing.

“What’s so funny?”

She shrugged. It wasn’t anymore.

More thick, slow breaths. “Can I please at least clean your hand?” There was a tension to the words. He wasn’t used to asking, she thought.

But he was being pretty insistent. “It’s just blood.”

“Yes,” he was hissing again. “Please.”

Well, if he was gonna be this weird about it. “Fine.”

It didn’t take long for him to wipe the blood off, and she even allowed him, once he was done, to treat and wrap it. It had started stinging some more as he’d cleaned it.

“Do you need anything else?” he asked when he was done, as though this had been her idea.

She scratched at her feet, off to her side. She could feel the silt from the water caught in the fabric of the shoes they’d tied on. Its earthiness was comforting, but it itched pretty bad. “Get these off,” she suggested, half joking.

Like he would—

“Okay,” and his fingers started trailing up the thick corded laces, from the top of her foot to her ankle, toward her shin. He hesitated there, and if Toph hadn’t been so surprised, maybe she would have made a comment or a joke. But she was silent and those slow, careful movements peeled back waterlogged skirt layers. Gentle pressure told her where he was tracing the cords wrapped and crossed around her legs, tied at various points along the way. “What the— Can I move you?“

She was startled enough that he’d asked, she said, “Sure.”

He shifted, sat she thought, pushed her left leg out of the way and pulled her right across his lap, pressure shifting and spiking around her throbbing muscles as his fingers tested the cords. “These are waterlogged. You want them off now, I’ll have to cut them.”

“Good.”

There was a hesitance before he added, “I’ll use a knife.”

“Yeah.” What else was there? His teeth?

She felt the press of the blade against her already swollen calf, gliding up towards her knee. Pressure broke in small, wet pops, and then the shoe was off, tossed to the side. Toph sighed, stretching and wiggling her toes, wincing as they cramped.

“Here, I can—Wait, no.” He pulled her other leg onto his lap, cut the ties, freed the toes. Toph stretched her legs on instinct, trying to work out the cramping. “I can help.”

She tilted her head. “Help what?”

“Your legs. They’re—“ he fumbled. “It’s not—The color— I can help them?”

His warm hand was hovering over her ankle and it felt nice. “Okay.”

“I’m going to touch you.”

“Yeah.”

“Up to about your knees.”

“As long as you’re helping, I won’t kick you.”

She’d been to enough healers to know what help should feel like.

She thought he sounded almost…resigned as he said, “Okay.”

Turned out he was helping. The cramping eased as he worked his way up her right foot and then leg, that radiant warmth spilling from his fingers. His breathing grew slow and deep as he worked, the temperature steady.

Weird. But kinda cool.

He was halfway up her left leg when there was a knock and a muffled, “Nephew?”

The prince lost whatever trance he’d been in, grumbling, “Couldn’t have waited two more minutes.” But he put her legs down, adjusted her dress, and went to the door. “Yes, Uncle?”

“I have tea, if your wife is interested.”

Toph froze at that word, pushing it out of her conscious mind. Not her problem, not right now.

“Toph?” the prince, Zuko reminded herself, seemed to actually want her permission for this to go down.

“Do I have to move?” she asked, aiming for a plaintive, helpless voice. Not too helpless, she’d been pretty sharp with him earlier.

“Of course not,” Uncle said. “If you don’t mind if I come in.”

Toph nodded, pulling her legs in and trying to sit up more. She wasn’t really sure there was space around her for both of them. In spite of her uncertainty, the men seemed to find room. She heard a clatter and thought she felt a tray being set down in the middle of them. Her fingers and toes only gave her fuzzy hints, but maybe this was what other people felt like when it started getting dark out.

“It shouldn’t be too hot to hold,” Uncle said, his voice hinting that he’d leaned towards her, “but let me know if it is. Our sensitivity is different, I think, than yours.”

If Spark-Mouth’s hands were anything to go by, that was a solid yes. She held out her hands and waited for Uncle to place the mug in them. It was warm, but not too hot. “Thank you.”

She could bring out her manners for tea. Especially tea that smelled like this. Uncle chuckled. “I hope you like it. Prince Zuko is not a connoisseur, so I don’t often have someone to share this with.”

A pity. Apparently Uncle knew how to brew a good jasmine white, which was really helping to ease the tension. At least for Toph. Zuko had just mumbled something about “leaf juice.”

The savage.

Chef Yuzu accepted the tray from General Iroh, noticing the man’s gentle smile. “She likes tea,” the general explained, as if this solved everything.

Although, from his perspective, it might. “She seem okay after her fright? Fell into the water, didn’t she?”

And the smile slipped away into something more severe. “Yes, she seemed alright.” This smile was an act. “If we are very lucky, she is very resilient, and doesn’t startle easily.”

“Can’t have her falling off the ship though,” Yuzu muttered, moving back into the galley. “ The prince wouldn’t like that.”

“I’m sure we’ll be able to avoid such accidents in the future.”

“Spirits willing,” Yuzu nodded, staring at the tea pot, frowning. “Our last accident—“

But he caught the general’s look and snapped his mouth shut. “Surely today we don’t need to dwell on such memories, hmm?”

“No, sir.”

“Thank you for your assistance. If you will have dinner ready at the usual time? I think it will be all three of us tonight.”

“Anything special, sir? For the occasion?”

They couldn’t get anything the prince liked, not on such short notice, but the girl…

General Iroh shook his head. “She hasn’t made any requests. We may delay any celebration until we can visit a port and meet everyone’s needs.”

“Very good, sir.”

Chapter Text

Zuko had left after he changed, making sure to ask if she needed anything but not pushing when Toph had told him, for the third time, no.

The man’s attentiveness was exhausting.

Waiting for the clang of his footsteps to fade, Toph rolled forward, sweeping her hands back and forth along the ridged metal, trying to make sure she wasn’t missing anything. The slight tremors that hummed through her fingers and legs were too muted for her to be sure how thick the floor was, but her hands didn’t find anything that her earthsense had missed.

So, clear enough to trust she could move.

Her first decision was to crawl over into the corner and drape herself over the stones that were lying there. She could feel every contour of them, the light song they sang as she moved against them and they rocked under her weight. It was comforting.

But she was still wet.

The muffled shadows on the floor around her were probably some mattresses and trunks. Most of them were against the far wall, but two were next to her rock pile, one of those close enough to touch her stones.

She slid until she could kneel in front of it, one hand still digging into her rock to keep her steady, and ran her hands along the top.

It felt right, like the trunks her mother had packed.

Fumbling at the latches with one hand didn’t work, so she had to let go of her stone. When she plunged her hands in her fingers were buried in stiff silks, a waft of her mother’s perfume tickling Toph’s nose. Ugh, she’d scented this box. It would take forever to air out.

But the fancy silks meant that this wasn’t the trunk Toph had been looking for, so she closed it, leaving the latches and scooting down to start on the other one. This one had the clothes with looser weaves, the ones that would hold more dirt and make more sense as she moved in them.

If there was enough dirt on the ship to collect, she thought glumly as she started pulling things out, laying them on the floor and unfolding them, testing the lengths and exploring the fastenings and ties.

Finding a complete outfit wasn’t too hard. Getting out of her wet clothes was awful. They stuck everywhere, to her and to themselves, they smelled, and when she did manage to peel out of a layer, it clung to the metal floor, taking up space and more heavy than she wanted to deal with.

That was before Toph got to the panic of needing to finish before Zuko got back. Or someone else dropped by. It was a ship, they couldn’t lock the door, could they?

By the time anyone did show back up Toph was not only dressed, but had managed to kick her wet clothes against the wall, repacked everything she wasn’t using, and had started mapping the room, one hand on the wall, her toes tapping with each step, trying to figure out what distances looked like now.

Things moved differently through metal. Everything felt…warped.

“You changed,” were the first surprised words out of Zuko’s mouth when he stomped his way into the room.

The echoes on the ship were nice. Toph had had plenty of warning. “I said I would.”

“Yeah.” She could tell his stance was shifting, but not what it meant. “Are you hungry?”

“No.” Yes, but she was still on a ship, not land, and her stomach might be slightly protesting today’s earlier drowning still. The tea had been fine. Food…

She felt, heard, him move closer and leaned towards the far wall on instinct, wishing she were by her rocks. But she hadn’t wanted to cross the room without a wall, and around would have taken too long and—

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He wasn’t growling exactly, but the tight pinch of his voice pricked against her ears. “I’m not…” He was almost stiff enough to be a rock himself, she thought, her toes working against the metal. “I just want to talk.”

A sharp, “You can talk from over there,” seemed like a good plan. But Toph wasn’t stupid, and you didn’t hand your fear to someone like that. Not when you couldn’t drop them in a hole if they got feisty. So instead she tried, “I’ll sit over there first.”

She pointed at her rocks, and it took a moment but he said, “Okay.”

Which then left Toph with the decision of let go of the wall and walk straight over, or go around? She knew there was nothing on the floor between them, the mattresses were to her left, trunks to the right but out of the way. Not to mention some of the vibrations she was getting were the movements of the ship on the water, and those would fade a little if her hand wasn’t on the wall.

She took long enough Zuko asked, “Do you need help?”

“No.”

And that was what did it. She’d played helpless blind girl more than enough times in her life to know the perks. But while she didn’t want these people to know how much she could see, she didn’t want them thinking she was helpless. It might give them…ideas.

She moved slower than she would have liked, but she made it in a mostly straight line to her rocks, settling into them and using the shift of her weight to reshape them slightly so she could lounge a little against them.

There were enough she could turn some into ammunition if she had to.

“Talk about what?” she asked, making sure her feet were flat to catch any more of his movements. He’d turned as she’d walked by, she thought.

The lump he made on the floor suggested cross legged when he sat. More comfortable than kneeling, but not casual. She hoped. “About getting you settled in.” And then, “And keeping you safe.”

“I was safe in Gaoling,” she retorted before she thinking. It wasn’t true. Her parents had obviously gotten her here without her permission. But it would have been fine, if she just could have stayed there.

Or something.

“You’ll be safe here,” Zuko answered, but it was like the words were getting stuck in his mouth. Toph leaned into her seat more, but it didn’t help her get a sense of if he was telling the truth or not.

And that was scary. Almost as much as days at sea, not being able to see anything, feeling like she’d had her legs cut off or something, no earth anywhere, just bobbing and wobbling and the creak of wood and the swears of the crew and her mom crying herself to sleep each night.

The trip here had been worse. But that didn’t make this better.

“If you say so,” Toph replied when Zuko didn’t continue. “I guess you can keep me locked up in here all the time.”

“No.”

And that was a surprise. Because he didn’t just sound serious, he hadn’t even had to think about that. “Okay?”

Nice thing about fire benders breathing so deep, Toph didn’t have to wonder what he was doing when he paused. “You’re not going to be trapped in here. You’re not a prisoner, you’re my wife.”

She choked, she couldn’t help it. Bad enough when Uncle had said it, hearing it from this guy? Bleh. Zuko must have heard it because he stopped. Waited.

Guy was way patient for a fire bender. Not calm patient. But I-can-be-here-all-day-steaming kind of still, waiting.

Weird. “Not sure you noticed,” Toph said, grinding her toes into the floor as if it would help her see better, “but I didn’t exactly choose to be here. And I can’t choose to leave either.”

At least, not alive. Unless they put her on land. Then she’d be gone.

“I didn’t choose this either,” Zuko started, and Toph scoffed. “I didn’t,” he insisted. “I wouldn’t… You don’t know my father. You wouldn’t understand.”

No, but Toph knew her father. Knew that he’d drugged her and had her packed off like a sack of rice one night because he was just smart enough to know she got up to things, and he shouldn’t give her any warning. Knew he’d told her she was getting married when they were already two day’s journey from home and Toph was too sick to eat anything.

The Fire Lord had conquered parts of the world. He probably had his own form of leverage. “Nah, I get it. Your dad sucks too.”

Something rippled through the room. Toph felt the heat not just in her toes but across her face and arms. What the—

“My father,” and if the words had been pinched before they were cut like slivers now, “is…difficult. Sometimes. But—It’s not a surprise that he would arrange my marriage.”

“To me?” Toph knew how Earth Kingdom soldiers talked about the Fire Nation. No way was it any better the other way around. She didn’t need to be able to feel him lying to know that was a bunch of shale shards.

“That…was a surprise.” And that didn’t sound quite like the truth either, but Toph couldn’t be sure and how did normal people ever figure out who was lying anyway?

“So where are we going?” Running away in the Fire Nation wasn’t an option, but they were still near the Earth Kingdom coast. And wasn’t this guy in exile or something?

Another of those deep breaths. “We’re heading north. It’s summer, but we’ll be heading into fall soon. We’ll need more temperate weather while you’re adjusting.”

Asking why seemed a bit silly, but Toph wasn’t convinced nice weather was going to help her all that much.

And this was when Toph finally put together that they both seemed to be avoiding any kind of real conversation. If that deep breathing was anything to go by, Zuko had almost worked himself up to whatever he thought they should talk about. Which meant she had one chance to get in a good distraction.

“I can keep all of these, right?”

Yup, that was a confused noise. “The stones? Yes. If you need them.”

“I do.” Maybe not all of them, but this was a nice pile, she could weaponize them if she needed to, and if carrying a few rocks meant they had to stop the ship for some reason…

Yeah, she was keeping the rocks.

“Can I spread them out a bit?”

“All around the room?” Zuko asked. “Or just where they are?”

She hadn’t really thought about sticking them around the whole room. She could see well enough with the metal floors that having touchstones wasn’t a problem. Although missing the details was killing her. “Here is fine. Just not all stacked up like this.”

Not that she had a problem with it, but the more space she marked as hers, the better she’d feel. It’s not like he needed rocks.

“That’s fine. I mean, if you need to move them anywhere in here, that’s fine. We’ll just have to rearrange things.” He did seem pretty calm about it. “Do you want us to do that now?”

“I’ll do it,” Toph said. They were just rocks. “Later.”

Or right now if he was about to try and start that conversation again.

But no, someone was clanking down the hall, knocking on the metal door. A shush of fabric, scrape of armor, and Zuko was moving across the room, which was enough to get Toph standing. “Yes?”

“My apologies, Prince Zuko. But we’re passing a patrol.”

There was that stillness again, but just for a moment. “I’ll come out. Send Sergeant Mao up here. And my uncle.”

“Yes, sir.”

As the guard clanged away Zuko said, “You’ll need to stay here. Uncle will look after you.”

Not like she was going anywhere anyway, but Toph objected on principle. “What, is something wrong?”

“Not wrong. Just…inconvenient.”

Scary, she thought she heard him say. But then she didn’t know him that well. “Okay. It’s not like I had other plans.”

She could move her rocks, or see if she could pump Uncle for more information. He’d been good humored over tea.

Instead of just leaving, Zuko actually walked towards her, hesitated, then reached out and touched her arm, not quite grabbing. Toph twitched, sliding a foot back, closer to her rocks. But he didn’t do anything else. Just said, “I will keep you safe.”

Which was a lot scarier than anything else that had been said, now that Toph thought about it. “Okay.”

His fingers slid down her sleeve, not quite pinching the fabric as the warmth of him moved away. “You don’t have to be afraid.”

Something about the way he said that, Toph wasn’t sure it was directed at her. “Yeah, okay.”

And then he was gone, calling down the hall, the clatter of him on the stairs echoing through the open door.

Toph thought about closing it, then just curled back up on her rocks. Not worth the time.

What patrol were they worried about anyway?

Jee watched the prince pace the bridge, the signals from the other ships still silent after the first response.

“Anything in the water?” he demanded again, his eyes scanning the water line of the other cruiser.

“Nothing, sir,” Jee confirmed, doing his own check of their deck and the ship rails. “Still clear.”

It was hard to miss those fists clenching and unclenching. The temperature shifted slightly with each movement. Jee wondered if the prince knew he was doing that. He wondered if the prince realized many things these days. “Let me know if anything changes.”

“Yes, sir.”

They’d have this conversation again in two minutes, then again in five. Hopefully by then the cruiser would be far enough out they could move to doing a sweep of their ship, fast and thorough, and then everything would calm down again.

Just in time for dinner.

But for now, the prince just watched the water, the lights in the room shifting with those fists.

Chapter Text

With a nod to Sergeant Mao, Jee tapped a light knock on the door to the prince’s quarters, entering at the general’s pleasant, “Come in.”

They were off in the corner of the room, the princess propped on the pile of rocks they’d brought on board, her sightless gaze pointed towards the opposite corner, completely missing Jee. And the general.

“Do we have an all clear?” the general prompted, and Jee snapped back to attention, nodding. Then, realizing the princess would have missed that, “Yes, General. Final sweep has been done. The prince requests you join him for dinner downstairs. It should be about ready.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. May I?” the general asked as he stood, holding a hand out so it was near her arm but not quite touching. She made a face, not a happy one, but Jee couldn’t be sure what it was supposed to mean. She nodded though, and let the general help her stand and take her arm.

It wasn’t a slow process, but it was enough time for Jee to notice the pile of wet silks up against the wall, the slight smudges still on her face where makeup had been smeared earlier. She looked better without it, he thought. But then, most anything was an improvement from almost drowning.

Her new clothes had fewer layers, flowed more than the stiff, damp wedding dress had. All to be expected. But they weren’t sitting completely straight and Jee had to make himself not think about that.

It could mean anything.

But manners were manners, and as the two moved to exit, Jee has to ask, “Would you like us to take care of your dress, Princess?”

She completely froze at the word, her eyes going big and round. Then her mouth ticked, something almost like a sneer creeping up as she said, “Don’t bother. I doubt it can be salvaged.”

Trying not to take that as a portent, the lieutenant asked, “Just remove it then?”

“Yeah,” she answered, and the informality was another oddity he had to ignore. “That’s fine. And the shoes,” there was a strong emphasis on that one as she actually pointed through him, her gaze still toward the middle distance, but her finger unerringly precise as Jee turned and spotted another damp pile on the other side of the door. “Those go too.”

At least she could command. Princess Ina—

No, he didn’t need to think about that.

“Of course, Princess.”

There was another odd expression Jee half caught as he moved to obey. He could hear her clearly though as she asked the general, “Does he have to use that?”

“It is your title,” the general wasn’t cheerful exactly, and it was hard to guess what he was thinking.

“That’s not a yes or no.”

Jee almost chuckled. So she’d noticed. Good.

The general’s reply was a mild, “It depends on what their commanding officer expects.”

The lieutenant didn’t think she answered that.

Ships stank, Toph thought, forcing herself to not shift again on her mattress. She hadn’t noticed this afternoon because this one stank different than her father’s and she’d been covered in sea water. But when they’d come back here after dinner—well, dinner and “music night”—while the room didn’t have her wet things in it any more it…still stank.

Which sucked.

Almost as much as the rather poor attempts from her roommate to pretend he was sleeping. She’d been stuck on a ship for days before this. She was plenty acquainted with sleep breathing. He was not doing it.

She wasn’t even trying.

So she didn’t feel bad when she stood up, almost throwing off her blankets and lurching across the room to her rocks. Her toes picked up some sort of lurch which had to be Zuko sitting up, and he definitely hadn’t been sleeping because his immediate, “Toph?” was perfectly clear and concise.

“Getting something,” she muttered, almost losing her balance once as the ship rocked. But she made it over okay.

“Do you need—“

“No.”

She was blind, not helpless. But maybe he couldn’t see that she wasn’t going for her trunks. Or he—did he not know? That earthbenders could just move stuff like this and it wasn’t even a big deal?

Not that Toph was grabbing the whole pile. Or even a full stone.

She tapped a few just to make sure the one nearest had the best break lines. Always easier to work with stone than against it. So many benders were lazy and sloppy. Toph held out one fist to make sure nothing slid, then brought her right hand out in front of her, flat, taking a deep breath. Had it really been days since she’d last done something as simple as this?

Her right hand cut under her fist and there was a thick snick as the earth separated but didn’t slide off. Perfect.

Fist relaxed, two hands flat in front Toph lifted slightly, calling the pillow sized chunk of stone over, flipping her left hand and sliding it just under the rock, holding mostly with bending not muscle. But touching.

She’d missed this touch.

It wasn’t until she’d gotten back to her bed, tossed her old pillow out of the way and sculpted the new one into order that Toph realized Zuko was probably still watching if his breathing was anything to go by. But he didn’t say anything, so she fumbled around for her blanket and got comfy, soothed by the dirt smell and that quiet earth song.

“Are you squeamish?” he asked suddenly, just as Toph was really getting comfortable. He sounded whatever the exact opposite of comfortable was.

“Like, with bugs and stuff?” she asked, not sure how this was relevant in the middle of the night on a ship. “No.”

“Blood?”

Maybe he was thinking about earlier, she realized. She still had that bandage on her hand. It itched, but just a little. Kind of hilarious he thought she might be squeamish about blood. She was a girl, technically. And she couldn’t see blood even if she could feel and smell it. “No, why would I be?”

“Oh.”

Definitely not comfortable. Was this seriously what was keeping him up? That she didn’t freak out over a cut hand?

It must have been, because Toph didn’t hear him shift to sleep breathing before she finally drifted off.

Zuko never fell asleep before her. It was one of about a million super weird things about him.

“Does he always yell when you criticize his bending?” she asked Uncle Iroh, trying to see if she could feel the benders’ exact movements across the deck.

“Only when he is very embarrassed,” Uncle Iroh responded very quietly, and Toph could feel the subtle shakes that meant he was almost chuckling. He was close enough. “But he means well.”

“Sure.”

“Literally everyone else on this ship would kill for this tea,” Toph told Jee, pretty sure he was eyeing her cup with envy. “Zuko seriously just calls it hot leaf juice?”

“The prince has unique tastes,” was the short reply, and Toph felt the shift of discomfort. But it blurred her sense of what Huang was doing further down the hall.

“He’s reading spirit tales?” Toph asked, unable to take her sense impression of Zuko and impose enough levity or fun through it for that to make any sense. “You’re kidding.”

“No, Princess,” Mao almost sounded like she was smiling. But in a sad way. “Nothing the prince does is ever a joke.”

“Now that’s the truth,” Toph muttered, moving her foot down the step slowly, trying to make sure she could still see with the one balanced on the stair.

“He meditates for how long? Every day?”

“Why does he come to music night if he’s just going to be grumpy and hate it?” Toph muttered, accepting a cup from Uncle and savoring the ginseng scent. “It’s no fun for anyone then.”

“He has his responsibilities,” Uncle suggested, and Toph did not understand how making his crew unhappy by being around had to be one of those. “He may also be trying to relax.”

The hyper-vigilant, rigid posture that always sat next to her said Uncle was full of it. “And I’m a rabaroo.”

“Do you enjoy music night?” Uncle asked, ignoring her complaints. He did that a lot. He had plenty of practice.

“It’s something to do.” She was blind, not deaf.  She could enjoy music. Although not all of the crew was equally talented. And some of the Fire Nation instruments were weird.

Uncle sipped his tea. “Maybe you can help us find something more interesting.”

Toph made a face, but she was pretty sure Uncle ignored it.

Maybe lying sprawled on her back on the deck wasn’t the most dignified thing Toph could have been doing, but it wasn’t like she was allowed to do anything else. And if she had to lie down somewhere, the deck was kind of nice because—and this was weird—it had less metal and less vibrations all around her. So the rocking and swaying of the ship didn’t bother her as much.

But of course she couldn’t be left on deck alone. Shiya was standing nearby, and helpfully murmured, “The prince is coming,” as the most recognizable, upright, stiff steps on the whole ship approached.

Zuko stopped in line with Shiya and demanded, “What are you doing?”

Toph still wasn’t sure exactly what would happen if she picked an actual fight with him, especially in public, so she bypassed, “What does it look like?” and settled on an equally unhelpful but hopefully less provocative, “Nothing.”

“On the deck?” he pressed, and with her whole body stretched along the metal floor she could feel him bracing himself, settling even stiffer, pressing his feet down and pulling back his shoulders.

Since talking about her nausea would only cause more problems, she offered the next most honest thing. “I’m bored.”

“What did you do at home?” he asked, the settled stance broken by shifting feet.

The honest answer was, “Punch people. With rocks.” Probably not what he was looking for. “Played in the dirt.”

It was worth the twitches. Shiya almost jumped, Zuko did a hot breath that made the deck beneath him warm, and Jee, who was crossing to the tower, actually stopped for a moment.

“We don’t have any dirt,” Zuko said after a moment.

“Really,” Toph smiled, and she knew it wasn’t nice. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“We have coal soot,” Shiya said, and Toph felt Zuko’s feet almost curl at the toes. “It’s not quite the same, but there’s a lot of it.”

Toph hummed for a moment, noticing how it made her ribs feel against the metal of the deck, letting her fingers curl. “Not today. I’m pretty comfortable right here.”

That was probably supposed to be a nod, Toph thought as there was a paused and then Zuko pivoted and stalked away.

“How is she?” Sergeant Mao asked.

Private Shiya finished her soup before answering. “Better than the first, by all I’ve heard, though that’s not hard.” She stared into her bowl, tilting it from side to side. “I think she’s getting comfortable. We may actually get to meet her soon.”

There was a thoughtful hum from Shiya’s superior. “You don’t think we have?”

Given how much time the princess still spent in the prince’s quarters on any given day, how they’d never seen her bend although the prince said he had once, how she’d only had real conversations with General Iroh so far, how she bossed them but only in sporadic bursts, Shiya had to say no. “I’m looking forward to it,” she couldn’t help grinning. “I don’t think the prince is ready yet.”

“No,” Sergeant Mao agreed, but the thought didn’t seem to amuse her as much. Well, she’d been here since the first debacle. “I don’t think he is either.”

Chapter Text

It was easier to focus on the cup in her hands to help her ignore the sway of the ship beneath her. But that back and forth shifting matched her mood, unsteady and adrift in the conversation.

It didn’t help that Mao wouldn’t settle down and kept jerking to look between Toph and Uncle Iroh. With the warping of the metal floor, the movement was slightly nauseating to notice.

“So, Fire Lord Sozin decided to start conquering the rest of the world,” Toph summarized, not sure how placating she wanted her language to be. She was…kinda upset. “And Fire Lord Azulon kept at it. And he’s your father, and he had you and then Fire Lord Ozai.” Which was weird, because as far as Toph knew no one just handed a throne to their younger brother. But Uncle was not making any effort to explain that one. “And you had a son,” she found her voice softening, paused for a moment to feel Uncle Iroh take a slow breath, “Lu-Ten. And Fire Lord Ozai has Zuko, who is his heir, and Princess Azula. And that’s everyone?”

She could hear Uncle set down his cup before answering, “Technically, if we are talking about the living royal family, that would be Fire Lord Ozai, Prince Zuko, you, Princess Toph, Princess Azula, and then myself.”

Which left a lot of gaps as far as Toph was concerned. Uncle had mentioned his wife in passing when he’d talked about Lu Ten, and his mother. But not Sparky’s mom. And that didn’t sit quite right.

Deciding it would probably be easier to get him to talk about that particular subject if Mao wasn’t around, Toph instead went for, “So who’s Princess Ina?”

The silence dropped so fast Toph almost felt it. There was an odd hitch from Mao, and a shift like she had turned to look at Uncle again.

He almost reached for his tea before his hands stilled, resting on the table. “Princess Ina was Prince Zuko’s first wife.” A careful pause before he asked, “Did he mention her?”

“No,” Toph could bluster through discomfort as easily as she could dig tunnels and escape her family home. Plenty of practice. She didn’t know that it was the right way to handle this situation, but delicacy was a skill she preferred to use sparingly. People started to expect it if you used it too much. “He didn’t.”

The careful blandness of Uncle’s tone as he said, “I assume you heard something from the crew then?” was plenty of warning. It was the closest Toph had heard anyone on this ship to sounding like her father and she did not like it.

“I guess so,” she didn’t snap at him, but she imagined her voice was a wall, braced and backed by all her will and bending. Nothing was getting through. No ground was going to give.

And maybe Uncle actually recognized that, because he was much softer as he said, “I see.” Another long pause before, “It would be best if you got any information about the princess from Prince Zuko. It would be…indiscreet for any of us to discuss her without his knowledge or permission.”

“At all?” Toph demanded, her fingers tightening around her cup. “He what, owns your memories of her?”

“Is there any reason you can’t ask him?” Uncle dodged the question with a practiced glide of conversation shift and Toph let herself scowl, not slamming but thumping the cup onto the table.

“Is there a good reason you can’t answer?”

That was a snap, and Mao was getting uncomfortable, shifting more, and maybe warming slightly. It was harder to tell through the cushion.

“There are reasons,” Uncle acknowledged, and he sounded so sad Toph didn’t know what to do. “But if you want to discuss them, you need to do it with the prince. Since it is a matter most closely related to him.”

“That’ll happen,” Toph muttered, snatching her cup back and taking a sip of what was left. She’d let it get too cool. It wasn’t soothing anymore.

Six weeks, Toph realized, was a long time to try and ignore someone. Especially when you shared a room with them. But you could, if both of you were making the effort.

And boy were they making an effort.

“I’m sorry Princess, he just left.”

“No Princess, I think he was headed for the bridge.”

“Princess, have you tried the galley?”

“Sorry, not here, Princess.”

It took four more rounds of the ship and talking to a total of ten people before Toph was able to catch up with Zuko in the small room that constituted his office when it wasn’t their dining room.

He was facing away from the door, cross-legged on the floor, probably using the table to read something, when she stopped just inside the room.

“We need to talk.”

Toph felt the slight shift as Zuko turned to look at her, then away. “I thought we weren’t talking.”

Oh, so he had noticed. “Uncle says we have to. That we’re being ridiculous.”

His best response turned out to be, “You don’t answer to Uncle. You’re the crown princess.”

Toph thought about that one before asking, “Does that mean I answer to you?”

“Yes.” Oh. Great. While Toph ground her teeth and crossed her arms, Zuko asked, “Am I doing something that’s upsetting you?”

“We’re not talking,” she growled. “How can you be upsetting me?”

“Then what do you want?”

“I want to go home!” It came out before Toph could think about it, before she was really sure what it meant.

“This is home now.”

“No, it’s really not.” It was hard to believe that if she could, Toph would gladly go back to that house that had felt like a cage. She might even forgive—hell, talk to— her mother, if she were given the chance. Maybe…

There was an aggressive silence in the room as Zuko said, “I can’t fix that.”

Knowing the broiling tension where he was sitting was a bad sign, but not sure what would happen, Toph said, “Some things just can’t be fixed.”

“I’m aware!” Zuko snapped, a hiss and crackle coming from where he was. Two deep, slow breaths. “Did you need something? Something I can get?”

A friend, Toph thought, who she could actually trust. Freedom. Oh, and, “Off this ship. Me,” she added, quickly. “I need me off this ship. If you can manage that.”

She felt him twist, still seated, but now facing her. She was sure because his voice was clearer when he said, “Are you ill?”

“No,” Toph admitted. “I’m not…I’m not going to die or anything,” she ignored his flinch at that. “I just…I’m ungrounded. It’s uncomfortable.”

The silence as she waited for an answer was almost painful. “Define uncomfortable.”

Toph threw up her arms. “I’m on a boat—“

“Ship,” Zuko corrected, but Toph ignored it.

“That goes up and down with every wave and every strong breeze. I can’t see anything, so I just feel it. All the time! My stomach hasn’t sat still in weeks, my head hurts, and I can’t practice bending! Would you like me to continue?”

“Yes.”

The simplicity of the answer stopped her almost as much as the sincerity in his voice. “What?”

“I need to know if you’re unwell,” Zuko had slowed his words and Toph was about ready to hit him for it. She was not a simpleton. “I can't solve all of those problems, but if finding a safe place to land for a couple of hours will help you, I can look. That’s difficult, but doable.”

“Are you insane?” seemed a redundant question, so Toph swallowed it. Instead she asked, “And what are we going to do? About me being here?”

Her earthsense had to be getting better because she could feel his breath as much as hear it. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’ll think about it.”

Well, she’d tried.

“Do you have any other symptoms?” Zuko asked, and Toph couldn’t keep the frown off her face. “I can’t promise you’ll always be comfortable, but I do need to know if you’re unwell. We have to fix that.”

It was impossible for Toph to say what exactly about his question bothered her the most. It was almost reminiscent of her father and mother, worrying about her without understanding what they should be worried about. But he sounded like he was actually going to listen, which should have been comforting, except—

Toph knew she was a commodity. Any daughter of any Earth Kingdom family was, to some degree or another, and as the only Beifong…well, her mother had been telling her for years how important her marriage would be. To the family, not to Toph.

But it had been a while since she’d been told she needed to be fixed.

“I’m not broken,” she snapped, toes curling. “I’m just different. I work just fine.”

“Do you…want a job?” Zuko asked, sounding pathetically confused. “I don’t mind you helping out on the ship—everyone does—but what could you do?”

It would not do her any good to scream. Toph knew that, but she still had to swallow several times before she could manage an even, “I can do whatever I want. If anyone would bother to even try to teach me. Or ask if I wanted to help.”

This wasn’t what this was supposed to be about. This wasn’t why she had come to find him. But he made it so hard to stay focused. Or maybe she was just losing her touch, all adrift from this time at sea.

But even if he wasn’t steady, or focused, he was persistent. “Tell me how you’re feeling, and how it’s different from how you normally felt at home. We can find something for you to do, but not until we know it not too dangerous.”

She’d fought giants. She’d Rumbled for almost ten years, carving a name for herself into a society that wasn’t supposed to know she existed, and would have wanted her in someone’s shadow if they had. “I’m dangerous,” Toph threw at him, feeling him jerk back. “And if you don’t start taking me seriously, you’re going to find out the hard way!”

Which was, she would admit later, definitely not what Uncle had intended when he’d told her to go and talk to Zuko. But it felt good, even when Zuko moved all into her space, trembling as he stood in front of her.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he growled. “But my people need me, and they come first.” And for the first time she heard raw disdain from him as he added, “I don’t expect you to understand that.”

He pushed past her before she could give him a good jab back, upsetting her balance. She felt like she was still reeling when Shiya found her a moment later, asked if she was okay.

“I’m fine,” Toph snapped, gripping the doorframe so tight she almost imagined she could have crushed it, if it were a proper rock. And since it was Shiya, and Shiya was always nice, she didn’t add, “I just hate this place.”

Chapter Text

She hadn’t expected it, but the first words Zuko offered Toph when he closed the door to their room that night were, “I’m sorry.”

She wasn’t punching her pillow, exactly. More like smacking it, trying to see if she could adjust the density a bit, back and forth, because she was frustrated and this was the most complicated thing that she could think to do. To practice her bending.

Which wouldn’t be a problem if they were on land.

“For what?” Toph asked, drawing up her own mental list, wondering how it would compare with his. She dropped her pillow back onto her mat, straining to feel the vibrations down and up through the plush surface. She didn’t add, “This time.”

“For not listening to you,” Zuko said, and it sounded like his teeth were grinding against each other. Toph shifted her leg so one of her feet was on the floor. She could almost see him now. “You were trying to talk to me. About…your bending? Your health? And I interrupted you.”

That was a hell of a way to put it. “I’m pretty sure that’s not what happened. Or we’re remembering very different conversations. Is there another Fire Prince on board who stormed off in huff that I missed?”

It was probably rude of her to bait him, but she was still mad about it. He hadn’t even given her time for a good comeback. And then there had been the stiffness and the whispers the rest of the day. Half of the crew liked her, more or less. But all of them seemed wary of her, and it had gotten worse, not better, as the day went on.

Apparently any yelling that happened on a ship this small was exactly zero percent private. Which would have been nice to know before Toph had decided to start yelling.

The warmth that was Zuko’s temper rose and fell two or three times before he answered, “I don’t like it when people threaten me. Any more than you seem to.”

Okay, that was fair. “Good news for you, if I ever piss you off enough you can just throw me off the ship. It’s not like I can swim.”

She wasn’t completely sure what she was trying to do with that flippant comment. She didn’t actually want him to do it and would fight anyone who tried. But there was something satisfying in his flickering response. Not like his anger, quicker and more fleeting than that. And, somehow, more tense.

“I’m not throwing you overboard. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Which was not a promise that he wouldn’t. Toph wasn’t stupid. “As long as I behave,” she sneered.

There was a garbled mess that came out of his mouth before he managed, “What is that even supposed to mean?” Toph felt her mouth dropping open as he added, in louder and louder tones, “You’re not a child. You’re not a prisoner. There’s nothing I’ve even asked you to do, except stay inside sometimes because it’s dangerous. Behave like what?”

“Uhhh,” Toph froze, stiffening her limbs and reaching with her senses, straining them. “Like…a princess?”

There was no way she was saying wife. She was not inviting that conversation. They’d avoided it really well so far.

There was the indication of movement, almost like Zuko was just waving his hands, flailing about. “When did I ask you to do that?”

Alright, now Toph was really confused. And angry. “Wasn’t that the whole point of Uncle giving me all these lessons?”

“You didn’t ask for those?”

Not…not all of them. Not exactly. “I mean, I asked him some questions when I first got here. About…what is the Fire Nation like. He…kinda likes to lecture. A lot.”

There was a snort. “And proverbs,” Zuko groaned. “Don’t get him started—“

“Oh I know. I figured that out.” Although a little warning would have been nice. Toph didn’t mind in general. Her entire education had been recited to her. But while she didn’t think Uncle exactly liked hearing himself talk, she did get the impression that he liked having an audience that didn’t throw up their arms and stomp away from him. “But he keeps finding me when I’m alone, or whatever, and we’ll start with tea, but then he just keeps going and…”

She could tell him to stop. But…

Zuko stiffened, “You have nothing else to do.” And then, more slowly, “You’re…being polite?”

Did he have to sound like it was such a shock. “I do kind of live here now. It’s pretty close quarters. I can’t offend everybody all the time. There’s nowhere to escape.”

A rushing sigh and then, “Yeah, it’s…yeah. You can’t just leave. Get out.”

Oh boy, she wasn’t touching that one. Curiosity might be her besetting sin, but she knew better than to approach that tone. It was…confidential. And she wasn’t making a mistake of inviting him to share anything like that.

When she didn’t say anything after a moment, Zuko said, “You can tell him to stop. Order him. He’s pretty good about listening to that. Most of the time.”

Toph snorted. “He’ll just find another way to get what he wants. And it’s not like I have more important things to do. Unlike everyone else.”

The tension returned and Zuko took a half step forward. “Do you…want something to do?”

“No, of course not. I just want to sit here, all day long, looking fragile and getting in everyone’s way.”

That earned an actual chuckle. For a second. “I don’t think that sounds like much fun. What would you rather do?”

“Bend,” Toph said, and was angry at herself for the longing in her voice. “Like, real bending. I haven’t in weeks. It’s…” Awful. Wretched. Sickening. She felt like she was starting to float away. Or maybe like she was becoming the boat. All beaten and salted steel, guided by someone else’s hand, always moving at their whim and direction, rising and falling at the will of the waves.

She hated it. Give her some good basalt or granite. Something sturdy, something she could smash heads with—

“This isn’t enough rocks?” Zuko gestured to the corner where her boulders were. She’d moved and reshaped them a few times, curled up against them and napped every so often, just to listen to their song.

But, “No. Not for what I do.”

“We can’t carry a ton of extra weight,” Zuko said slowly. “Our coal supplies are pretty limited. And our space. Would smaller ones be more useful?”

Oof, right to the tough questions. “I can bend no matter the size of the earth. But most of what I work with is on solid ground. Throwing rocks around in the air isn’t the most useful kind of earth bending. It’s pretty weak, actually. Earth still touching other earth is…better?”

She thought he might have cocked his head. “You need a root?”

There was a brief recall of Uncle yelling something about that to Zuko. “More or less? I don’t know if it’s the same as a firebending root, but yeah. I have to be pretty grounded or I lose a lot of my foundations.”

Not utility. Toph was going to be the best earthbender in the world. She’d joked about taking over Omashu at one point, when some morons had been questioning her. She could do plenty with dirt and small rocks. Just look at her nice pillow.

But for combat? She needed the space to move and somewhere to find her balance. She couldn’t see like other people.

She was almost afraid she was really starting to go blind again, like before she had met the badgermoles.

“We can’t stay docked all of the time,” Zuko said, and while he seemed a teeny bit apologetic, he didn’t waver. “I’m not allowed in the Fire Nation and we can’t stay on Earth Kingdom soil for long before the army finds us. That’s no good for anyone.”

Well, it might be okay for Toph. She could pretend to be kidnapped. Only…

Only Mao and Shiya and Yuzu had always been kind to her, or tried, and Toph knew, knew, that if she pretended to have been kidnapped there wouldn’t be any mercy from the Earth army. There probably wouldn’t be mercy anyway. And at best, they’d just take Toph back to her parents. “Yeah, no. Let’s avoid them, please.”

“I can try,” Zuko seemed to relax slightly, “to find places where we can stop. For a few hours, maybe a day or two. Especially if this hurts you.”

He seemed…really fixated on that. Not pushing the way he had been earlier, trying to drag out exact details. But insistent. Toph wasn’t sure how to feel about it. “Define hurt,” she said. “I don’t know what this will do to my bending, long term. I know I feel queasy most of the time, and unfocused. I’m not usually in pain, I guess.” Not unless she did something stupid, like take a nap on the deck and get a sunburn. Rookie mistake, she had been told. For an Earth Kingdom girl, anyway. Sunburn didn’t seem to happen to most Fire people.

Go figure.

There were long breaths filling the silence. Then Zuko said, “I’ll have to look at the maps. And cross reference our travel logs. We may…” There was a twist, but Toph couldn’t be sure what it was. “I try not to stay on a fixed path or schedule. We’ve been out in these waters long enough, people know to look for us. We can be…easy targets. But I can see what we can do about finding routes that give you some space to bend. If you need.”

“Uh, yeah,” Toph said, willing to push this point. “How would you feel if you went for weeks with only a bunch of candles to bend with?”

That contortion reminded Toph of a full body wince. “We—Firebenders carry our fire in us. It’s harder to separate us from our element.”

He didn’t follow up. Toph would have been frustrated, but between the body language and his tone, she got a vague impression. Something like, I don’t know what you’re saying but I get it.

Which was good enough. This time. “Lucky you. If I figure out how to drag around a continental plate without it sinking your ship, I’ll let you know.”

He coughed, and she wasn’t sure if he was confused or hiding a laugh. “I’ll look for some islands. I think there may be some we’ll be passing in a day or two.” He added, “And if there’s something else you want to do, want to learn, tell me. I’ll see if we can teach you how to do it.”

Toph cocked her head, and wondered how far that went. “I’d probably be good at cleaning the smokestack. Coal responds a lot like dirt.”

The tension and “We’ll see,” didn’t bode well.

But she’d tried.

Huang slid down the last few rungs of the ladder, sidling up behind Sergeant Mao and looking out over the water. She didn’t twitch, but it took more than a bit of sneaking to scare her, most days. “How’s it going?”

“He seems to have cooled down.” She didn’t say much else. She didn’t like talking about the Prince, which wasn’t a surprise. She’d been one of the only ones close to Princess Ina, as much as anyone could claim to be, and had thought, like the rest of them, that the prince wouldn’t forgive her failure.

She kept a respectful distance of his feelings in her conversations, and Huang respected that. But still, “What a day, right sir?”

She actually did turn to him, eyebrows high, her expression grim. “Today was a good day, Seaman. Good weather, no injuries, no major repairs. All’s well on the little ship.”

Yeah, but, “There’s scorch marks on the stern rails. Lieutenant Jee isn’t happy.”

“You should scour them,” she suggested. “It’ll put him in a better mood.”

It wasn’t that the ship didn’t have formalities, but when you were functionally in exile, some of them became less meaningful. And present. Time was the sergeant would have just ordered him to do it. Now she seemed comfortable granting him enough rope to hang himself. “I may do just that.”

He watched the water with her for a few more minutes, the moonlight glancing white in arcs and ripples, blackness seeping in between. Not a place he’d like to end up, even as calm as things were, even with the moon so clear.

“Think she’ll make it?” he asked, remembering that splash and the Earth woman’s screams.

That had been a bad day.

Sergeant Mao hated that question. He felt it standing next to her, saw it in her steaming breath. “There is no acceptable alternative.”

Yeah, but Huang knew that didn’t mean there weren’t plenty of unacceptable ones.

Chapter Text

The ship had stopped moving.

The ship had stopped moving.

Toph opened her eyes, because that was what awake people did, but not before she had thrown her hands directly against the floor, slamming them down and catching the tingling vibrations up her fingers.

There was the gentlest hint of shifting, of still being surrounded by water. But she could almost see, could feel, the nose of the ship sunk against something.

For a moment she didn’t breathe.

Then Toph threw off her blanket and scrambled up, almost flying to the door before the hint of footsteps brought her up short, wanting to scream because someone was coming and they were in her way.

“You’re awake,” Zuko had no right to sound surprised. She was allowed to be awake when she wanted. “We—“

“The ship stopped,” she said, almost vibrating, leaning towards the door without taking a step closer to him. “It—“

“We found a small island,” Zuko said, shutting the door. “It’s not much, but hopefully it will help. We can’t stay here all day. There are patrols in the area. But I can give you at least a few hours.”

Rocking slightly Toph said, “Okay…”

There was more stiffness to him now, but Toph didn’t care. If he didn’t move there were rocks and she would use them if he didn’t move away from the door.

“Would you like to go before breakfast,” he asked, the words stupidly slow, “or after?”

“Now,” Toph growled, and felt the stones shift as she clenched her fists. Zuko started, almost tripping back into the door and getting more in the way.

But he balanced out pretty quickly. “I leave you to get dressed then.”

The only reason, the only reason, she didn’t just march out after him was because he moved as quickly as he did to give her space.

And maybe because she wasn’t sure what kind of earth was out there and she wasn’t keen on sleeping in sand for the next few weeks, it just wasn’t the same.

There was a mad scramble and Toph had to stop in the middle of ripping through her trunks and press her hands into the floor, trying to root herself to the steel of the ship. It didn’t respond the way it should. It was stiff, but not right. But she needed to calm down if she was going to sort through the fabrics and pick something she could move in if there was real ground out there.

There was.

Zuko had waited for her just outside, and while she didn’t accept the arm he offered, she did notice that he kept up with her pretty well. She didn’t stop when she hit the deck, sensing that the front of the ship had been lowered, knowing that was where she needed to go. There were murmurs from the crew and if Toph hadn’t practiced, hadn’t been the best bender, she might not have noticed Zuko waving people back as she ploughed past, and then down the ramp.

Her toes hit sand first, and she almost tripped. Her earthsense was a mess. She could sense every grain of sand, but almost got lost in the vision of it. She stomped, straightened, and made a line for the more gravely climb that eventually hit—

Earth.

Toph sighed, two steps onto solid ground, then three. The earth here had a worn, washed out feel too it, like water was seeping in and slowly wearing it away. But it was solid.

She was home.

There was a “Gurk!” behind her as Toph threw herself forward and she felt Zuko lurch towards her. But she was already sinking into the stone and dirt, making herself a comfortable little hole, dragging more earth between her arms and curling around it, feeling it press against her back and neck, break and crumble into her hair, squish between her toes.

Toph sighed again, perfectly content.

They might never dig her out of this.

After a few moments there was a hesitant, “Sir,” that Toph cheerfully ignored. She knew it was probably Shiya, by the rough size and shape Toph had been getting from the metal of the ship. She could see the woman clearly now, feel her every shift, notice the perfect balance of her stance, even when at something like a parade rest.

And Zuko.

Zuko was a mess. Everything about his posture was right, absolutely correct. His balance was absolutely centered, his movements precise down to the twitch of a finger. But it felt so fragile. Like at any moment that surety would break, and he could crumble or collapse.

No wonder Uncle gave him a hard time about rooting, whatever that meant for a Fire person. Earth had to be pretty unyielding, but there were limits to control. Find the fault lines, follow gravity. Basics.

What did he think he was doing?

“Should we tell the General you’re eating out here?” Shiya asked after a few moments.

She felt Zuko shrug, nothing casual about the gesture. “That—No. He can come out here to eat, if he wants. But we’ll wait.”

Missing meals was a no go for Toph most days. It was something to do, she had limited options to stay fit but she used them and needed the strength, and coming late to a meal was a disaster she’d only fumbled into once. Even more than Zuko’s almost frigid anger and Uncle’s morose disappointment, Toph had been bothered by the food itself. It didn’t keep nice forever, and on the ship there was no way to make it last, or really refresh it once it hit the table. Reheat, yes. Plenty of fire for that. But it wasn’t the same. Yuzu had to keep a very careful balance given their limited supplies.

She debated getting up, or insisting they eat out here.

But the earth her arms held, pressed up against her stomach, filled an ache she hadn’t realized she was feeling. It soothed a gnawing that she’d only partially acknowledged when she’d been trapped on that ship.

They were going to make her go back.

Toph wasn’t sure she could.

The idea of breakfast was a distant memory when Toph came back to herself. She could still feel Zuko nearby, his subtle shifts as he watched the slopes that swung up and away from them. Still stiff as a bartering merchant.

Toph could have told him there was no need to worry. The island they had found was maybe twice the size, around and long, and their ship. She could feel animals and insects as vibrating hums in some places, the faintest hint of the scratch of birds. Further than she would have expected for that one. Her earthsense was still off, but she was getting used to it, more quickly than she would have thought. And her range on noticing details had almost doubled.

Huh, who knew Fire Nation steel was a good challenge for a blind earthbender.

Stillness was part of being an earthbender, and spirits knew she’d missed it, but it was time to move. Toph wriggled, and Zuko’s attention snapped to her, his breath catching slightly.

Good grief, she’d been taking a nap. She wasn’t dead.

And her brain, comfortably rested and still, finally had enough traction to throw together the hints that had been rolling around in her head on the water. A first wife, not many ways to get rid of those. Zuko and Uncle’s reactions—everyone’s reactions—to hints and death jokes and…

Okay, maybe Toph could try for fewer death jokes.

“There’s no one coming,” she said, and felt Zuko startle. “It’s only animals on the island. Not even big ones.”

She squirmed out of her pile of earth, shaking like a badgermole and feeling the excess slip down, more or less back to where it came from. Standing was a slow process, she didn’t want to let go of this, but she was running out of time. Might already be out. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been sleeping.

She was cleaning up the hole she’d made when Zuko said, “How do you know that?”

It was half accusation, some flecks of curiosity, and something like resignation. Toph dusted her hands off, then started combing through her hair, partly getting bits out, partly locking them in. She tapped a toe, pretty sure he could see it. “Earth catches vibrations, especially when things move. I know you’re not quite two arm’s lengths behind me, we’ve got at least six people near the ship at the waterline, and two more up on the hills, keeping a lookout.” She paused before she added, “There’s a bug on your boot.”

Zuko startled again, and she felt him look down, kick his foot, shift his balance. “It’s an earthbending skill,” he said. “Uncle never mentioned anything like it.”

Toph knew a few people who understood the concept instinctually enough, but they’d always described it as earth that was theirs that they could feel other benders trying to take. Which was part of it, but not the most useful part. “I don’t know very many benders that do it.” Not human ones anyway. “I guess most of them don’t feel like they need it.”

He rocked slightly as he thought. “You use it to get around your blindness.”

It made her grimace, but he wouldn’t see that. She wasn’t facing him and didn’t want him to see. “I use my earthbending instead of my eyes, yeah.”

There was a long pause before Zuko asked, “But it works on the ship?”

“On yours,” Toph admitted. “Sort of.” Better than she would have guessed.

He was shifting now, from foot to foot. “Not on your father’s?”

There was a cautious hesitance to the question, but Toph just nodded. She wasn’t afraid, she was here, not there. “I guess steel is more like earth than wood. Go figure.”

She was mostly able to keep it dry and snappy. She may have wobbled a bit at the end though. Zuko ignored it, though she wasn’t sure if that was courtesy or abject terror at feelings. “So you can sort of see on the ship?”

“I’ve been adjusting.” The ground was put back together, she was as put together as she could manage. She half turned, and before he could ask anything else slipped in, “Are we leaving soon? Or do I have more time here?”

More shifting, and then, “You have more time. Not…less than an hour. Maybe half.”

“Alright,” Toph said, working her feet into the ground, wiggling her toes until she felt earth squishing between them. “Let me know when we go.”

She could feel him stiffen at the dismissal, could sense that he wasn’t leaving. But he did eventually take a few steps back when she started flexing her toes and tilting her feet back and forth, the ground moving in undulating ripples towards his feet. Big baby. She wasn’t even getting started yet. Just testing the ground, feeling how it moved, how it responded.

Everyone she could see jumped when she slammed her foot down for the first time, the shockwave mild, but reaching even the watchers on the hills.

She still had it.

Nothing too tricky, nothing to complicated. Shouldn’t show her full hand, and besides, this earth was different. Not so much sliding as crumbling. So it was more effort and focus to make walls, keep them in straight lines, precise angles. Not the most efficient, but that wasn’t what this was about. It was testing her limits. Seeing how far she could still push herself.

Even when she wasn’t facing a proper opponent.

Up, forward, back, down. Walls, thins pillars, thick pillars. Lines perpendicular to the sky, at angles. She misjudged and hit the hills a couple of times, which was annoying. The distances reached her differently through the earth. She was still compensating for the warping of the ship.

In what felt like no time at all, Jian left his post by the ship, came up to Zuko, bowed, and said something. Toph was still moving earth, but she knew what this meant. If she could just do one last thing…

“Toph,” Zuko called out to her.

She paused, arms up in the air, two circles suspended at waist height above the ground. “Yeah?”

“It’s time to go.”

“Alright, one second.”

She put the earth back, smoothed out the lines she had made, paused, breathed as deeply as she could and listened. The animals and bugs were further away from her now, things were quieter. But the general shape and feel of the island remained unchanged. Nothing felt like she’d prematurely dislodged it, even with all the seismic activity she’d been causing.

Good. Humans were awful, but the animals hadn’t done anything wrong. She didn’t need to make their homes collapse underneath them after she left. It had been scary enough when the baby badgermoles had done it to themselves, on accident, missing fault lines and moving more dirt than they had to, squealing and thrashing until one of their parents came and found them.

The sense memory of that panic made Toph swallow.

Letting her breath out, Toph turned back toward the ship. She didn’t start walking until Zuko did, didn’t set foot on the ship until everyone else was ahead of her.

Except Shiya, because the lady was stubborn, and Toph could respect that.

That didn’t make it any easier watching the ship get lifted back up, feeling the hull pull away from the water’s edge. Toph shuddered, then stormed off to the tower.

Hopefully Uncle had saved her something for lunch.

“Did you see that?” Private Yan demanded.

“Quiet,” Mao ordered, sweeping the komodo rhino’s stalls, making sure to check around the beasts to catch anyone who might be hiding.

The stop wasn’t planned. No one else had passed by. But never again. She’d sworn never again.

“But did you see that?” Yan was almost begging. “Did you feel it? I thought we were going to sink. I though—“

“The princess is an earthbender,” Mao said, moving crates and gesturing for Yan to help her. “We knew that.”

“She’s blind,” Yan complained.

He was a nervous man. It was how he had ended up on the prince’s ship to begin with. Mao didn’t like him, didn’t trust him, but she could pity him. His brothers had faced Earth Army benders and most of them had died from it. “Do you need to see to use your bending?” she asked, cupping a flame in her hand and making sure to check in the deepest shadows. “Can you make a flame when you close your eyes?”

He seemed to relax for a moment before he started fidgeting again. “But she made shapes.”

Mao hummed, but she wasn’t really interested in having this conversation with Yan. She’d much rather have it with the general. Or the prince. Or even the princess.

But she knew she wouldn’t be getting straight answers from any of them. She only knew one thing. “She’s married into our side.”

“Like that means anything,” Yan whined.

Mao’s head snapped up and she’d crossed over and grabbed him by the shirt before he could blink. “It means she’s your princess,” Mao hissed. “And you better damn well do your job and protect her, understood?”

He flailed a bit, then nodded, and, thankfully, went silently back to work.

But Mao caught his muttered, “But what if the heir is an earthbender?” as she left him when they’d finished their sweep.

Chapter Text

"Your father said you'd only been trained in absolute basics."

Toph was just settling down to take her first bite when Zuko spoke, and she snorted hard enough she almost lost the food. "Never understood why they kept paying Master Yu to teach me how to breathe. Wasn't like I was going to forget."

"Breathing is an essential element of most bending styles I've seen," Uncle noted, cheerful but a bit stern underneath that. "Even masters make an effort to practice correct methods throughout their entire lives."

"That doesn't mean they need to be babysat through it," Zuko grumbled before Toph could say pretty much the same thing. "You don't watch me when I practice my breathing, just the forms I need help with."

Which, as far as Toph could tell, was most of them. Not...well, Toph wasn't sure what she was supposed to be seeing, because the ship was metal not earth and she'd never really seen firebending before. But Uncle had lots of comments to make on Zuko's form and style.

Bonus of learning from badgermoles, they couldn't actually badger you.

Toph bit her lip to keep from grinning. Zuko would not appreciate it if he saw.

"I think," Uncle said, ignoring Zuko's comment, "what my nephew was trying to say was that today you demonstrated what most would say goes beyond beginner's techniques."

"What did you think the other stuff I did was?" Toph asked. "I mean, I don't have a lot of earth to work with, but I pretty much do whatever I want to it."

Embarrassment was a tough feeling for Toph to parse through body language. Some people were pretty shifty when they felt it, but she had to rely on context to guess and make sure it wasn't guilt or something else. It was even harder on the ship, where the metal was throwing her off again and they were kneeling on cushions and that made things muted as well as warped.

Luckily, she could feel the metal around Zuko getting warmer, and she was pretty sure this time that meant embarrassment, not anger. Mostly.

"You don't use combat forms," he muttered. "Not ones I'm familiar with."

"No," Toph agreed. "Army forms are—“ she probably shouldn’t use that word…yet, “boring.”

“Boring,” Zuko repeated, his bowl hitting the table with a clack. “Army forms are boring.”

“That is what I just said,” Toph didn’t quite sniff, but she’d learned the impression of gentle disdain from her mother, and she knew she’d gotten it right when she heard a slight choking sound from Jee, who was lurking by the door. “Maybe yours are more interesting, but mostly those guys just throw rocks at people. And any kid can do that. Master Yu had to teach me to stop throwing rocks.”

He’d only partly succeeded. One of her disastrous tantrums had led to her running away and finding the badger moles. Once she’d realized she could learn real bending, from actual masters, her need to throw rocks all over the place had settled down. A lot.

Uncle was humming. “I know a little about earthbending,” he said, and Toph felt his unnatural stillness. “And I know quite a bit about Army benders.” Pain, mostly covered by irony, but Toph didn’t have to see them clearly to know Uncle and Zuko were thinking about Lu-Ten, and the Walled City. “It is probably a simple technique, but doing it well likely requires much practice. And there are specialists, who can do much more complicated work.”

Toph sniffed. “Well, I’ve never seen them.”

“They tend to be relocated to Ba Sing Se,” Uncle admitted. “It’s unlikely you would have met them.”

No laugh in his voice at all, so either he’d missed the joke, or just didn’t think it was funny. Bummer.

“Did you teach yourself?” Zuko asked, and Toph paused, tilting her head. Was that…awe? Just a hint of it? Or grumpiness?

Probably just grumpiness.

“Yes and no,” she finally answered, finishing another bite. She was hungry. “I studied and learned from watching other earthbenders, but…”

She didn’t talk about it. Not to her parents, who might actually have had the power and influence to drive even huge badgermoles away from Gaoling, not to her Rumble buddies. They’d been friends, sort of, but not the sort she was giving her secrets to. They’d never even known who she really was.

But explaining without telling the truth was basically the same as lies. Because she’d learned from the badgermoles, but turning the ground dragging shuffles of her teachers into movements she could use on just two feet had required thought. And effort.

And practice.

Was she going to lie to Zuko? She’d lied to her parents, to people she’d met outside her house. She still felt like it had been right in a lot of ways, but it had hemmed her in, had hurt, when she couldn’t just be honest, even about things as simple as her own name. Everyone who knew her as a bender called her Bandit. Thief. And who knew, now that she was older, how many of them actually believed that?

Toph put down her bowl, not sure she was hungry anymore.

“Sorry,” Zuko said, mumbled more like. And then, before he shoveled more food into his mouth, “Never mind.”

What?

Uncle made a noise like he was about to speak, but it stopped suddenly as Zuko got quiet for a moment before Toph could hear him eating again.

Weird.

Jee watched the trio at the table, keeping his breathing even and his posture stiff. And his attention as much as he could on the doorway. It was open, which was a good sign. The prince wasn’t too worried. But if anything happened, Jee knew he needed to be the first one to face it.

Or there would be consequences.

The thought danced through his mind that it was a pity they couldn’t carry a lot more rocks on the ship. He wondered what the princess could do with them, if she felt threatened.

And what did it say about her feelings towards the prince, that she had a pile of rocks in their room and no one had ever heard her use them?

Best not to think about it.

Or to get too distracted by their conversation. As interesting as the princess’s mysterious training circumstances might be, if Jee got too distracted now…

“Sir,” Sergeant Mao was close enough she didn’t have to raise her voice to a rude volume, but far enough to give him warning of her approach. He couldn’t see around the corner to what was in front of her, but trusted her enough to step into the hall with only a half glance to that blind spot.

“Sergeant?”

“All clear, sir,” she said, her eyes flicking to the royals in the room, her posture relaxing slightly. “No extra passengers.”

And thank goodness, because if this had gone poorly, it might not have happened again. And the princess’s reaction to being on land had been…enlightening.

He asked for a brief rundown of trouble spots, to be thorough and to prove to the prince that the crew had been thorough, and Sergeant Mao didn’t hesitate with any of her answers. Didn’t resent them.

There was a reason the prince had kept her, in spite of everything.

When she’d finished, Jee dismissed her and stepped back into the room. “Your highness.”

The prince glanced up, but turned back to his food as he said. “I heard. Thank you,” Jee felt his eyes bulge slightly, “for the report. You’re dismissed.”

Jee bowed, noticing the general’s apologetic look as he straightened. Which was ridiculous. Jee had been thanked for doing his job. For the first time in—maybe ever, actually. As far as the prince went. He wasn’t going to complain about that.

Toph woke with the feel of dirt between her fingers, so rich and warm she thought she was still dreaming.

But the feeling was a memory, and the memory wasn’t really real, and even though she could sense the flecks of island dirt under her nails and feel the soft grit of her stone pillow she wasn’t really on land. Didn’t know when she would be again.

“Toph?”

Zuko sounded slurred, but his movements felt quick and precise as he sat up. Toph could feel his heart racing, the sudden flare of warmth as he came awake and focused and—

A sizzle and snap and she knew he’d called a light. Which meant as he waved it around the room he could see…

She tried to make her hands move like she was scrubbing sleep from her eyes, not tears. “What?”

It was a moment and then, “Are you…okay?”

“It was a dream,” she tried to sound annoyed instead of angry. “I’m fine.”

“Do you need—”

“No!”

He seemed to recoil a bit at her anger, but asked again, “Are you su—”

“Do I bother you about your dreams?” Toph snapped.

He had them sometimes, bad ones. Mostly he didn’t wake up sobbing, so she didn’t wake up to the noise. It was when he touched the floor and she could feel him trembling, shaking with how hard he was trying to be quiet.

And those were the good times. When he didn’t wake up hissing, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

Zuko didn’t recoil this time, but he did freeze. Drew a breath through his teeth. Gritted out, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you—”

“I don’t care!” Toph felt the growl in the back of her throat, memories of the tunnels too close for her to temper it. “It’s fine, okay.”

“Fine,” Zuko didn’t snarl, but there was something edged to his clipped voice. She could just make out his movements, throwing himself down on the mattress, turned towards the wall. “Sorry.”

“Me too,” Toph muttered, the fight falling out of her. It hadn’t even been a bad dream, it wasn’t worth this.

She tried to get comfortable on her bed again, but it wasn’t working. After a few minutes she kicked off her blanket and dragged herself over to her rocks, kneading them into as much of a proper nest as she could manage with solid stone. The ship still rocked around her, but the song was almost like home and she could almost hear the badgermoles singing.

Chapter Text

Toph woke alone in the room with her blanket draped over her. Which was not where she had left it last night.

She considered being angry about it, noticed the chill on her nose, and decided to just be grateful, pulling the blanket all the way over her head and burrowing deeper into her rocks.

Deep enough to hit metal.

Cold metal.

She cursed, trying to work the stone back under her without waking up too much.

It didn’t work.

Well, no point in staying in bed now.

“Good morning,” Uncle greeted as Toph stepped into the dining area. “I’m afraid breakfast isn’t quite ready yet, but I can make you a cup of tea, if you would like.”

“Please,” she half yawned as she took her usual seat. Her back was to the door, and she felt Zuko’s normal twitch of discomfort as she chose the spot, but he didn’t say anything. Just wound himself up tighter, ready to jump into action if anything showed up behind her, she guessed. “Morning, Zuko.”

Well that got his attention. “Good…morning?”

Uncle kept himself pretty relaxed most of the time, but Toph could feel that he was watching this exchange really closely. Which, fair. Toph had cultivated an attitude of morning grumpiness to justify being rude to her—ugh—husband, until Uncle had handed her tea and she could pretend that was making her polite.

But she’d also been rude last night, and while she wasn’t going to apologize because seriously, what made him think her dreams were his business, she could at least acknowledge that he’d been thoughtful in making sure she didn’t get cold.

Slyly. Because she wasn’t just going to tell him she’d noticed. Rookie mistake.

Also, Toph might actually have been less grumpy. On average.

Slightly.

“You look like you are feeling better today,” Uncle noted as he handed over her tea.

Toph scowled as she took it. “When was I looking bad?”

“Well, you seemed quite…overwhelmed when we first met. And I don’t think we’ve been able to see you really relax until yesterday. I’m glad that our little stop did you some good.”

She really didn’t know what she was supposed to say, and settled on, “It was nice. I miss bending.”

Which she hadn’t meant to add. Whoops.

“We’ll work on getting more stops worked into our schedule,” Zuko’s voice was even and firm. “I can’t guarantee anything since we spend so much time in open ocean. But we’ll make it work since it’s important.”

Frowning as she sipped, Toph let her thumb brush the lip of her cup, cradling it as she pulled it down. “Really?”

Zuko hated wasting time, hated going off course, and hated landing. Sure, her bending was important to Toph, but… Well, her parents had managed to ignore that, even when it wouldn’t have inconvenienced them at all to notice.

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Toph took a long sip of her tea, deciding that the way Uncle had settled into his seat was way too smug. “Badgermoles.” She felt their attention turn to her, Uncle almost jumping in surprise.

“What?” Zuko asked.

“I learned from badgermoles,” Toph said, sure no one else was near them, but keeping her voice moderated anyway. “They’re blind, but they’re really good earthbenders. Like, some of the best, honestly. They’re not sloppy about it, or mean, or jealous. They let me follow them around, like one of their kits. It was…nice. And I learned a lot.”

She knew she was blushing. Not a lot, but she could feel it in her cheeks. It almost made her not notice that Uncle’s mouth was hanging open.

She couldn’t miss Zuko’s though. “You—Badgermoles? Really?”

“No, I made it up,” she snapped, curling more around her tea. “Haha, great joke, ri—”

“I didn’t mean—” Zuko almost sounded panicked. “I just didn’t know— Your parents were so bad you had to learn from badgermoles?”

“Zuko,” Uncle groaned, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose.

It gave Toph just enough room to say, “My parents weren’t benders. They couldn’t teach me.”

“No, that’s not—” Zuko’s arms moved, not quite flailing, almost like he was grasping at something. “Bending takes time. Learning it. What were your parents doing, losing you like that?”

A fair question, even if it was rude. Before Uncle could scold him, Toph said, “I ran away. Like, a lot. Sometimes they noticed and sometimes they didn’t. Dad hired guards once he realized I was getting out of the house, but they just assumed I was wandering around our gardens. I wasn’t fun to watch or anything. No one knew I existed so it wasn’t like there was a constant threat. As long as I didn’t get hurt, they didn’t notice.”

Uncle was very quiet. And Zuko…

Zuko was breathing in a way that said he was about two seconds from trying to yell someone to death.

But when he did speak, his voice was pretty reasonable when he said, “You’re used to taking care of yourself.”

She couldn’t tell if that was supposed to be bleak or hopeful. “Kinda. I mean, I didn’t always come home for dinner, but there’s only so many bugs you can eat raw before sitting quietly and chewing politely sound like a fair trade for real food.”

Uncle choked on his tea and Zuko’s mouth was working up and down, a noise between a whine and a keen coming from his throat.

And no time to reply because here was their breakfast, coming down the hall.

Toph smiled as sweetly as she could when her plate was put in front of her, thanking Jian as he bowed himself away. She made sure to eat her breakfast in tiny, polite bites.

The storm came in without warning, at least as far as Toph was concerned. Yeah, she’d smelled a change in the air, and everyone on deck had started getting tense, almost fretting.

But when she’d asked if something was wrong, everyone had said no, it’s fine.

And then they were almost shoving her back towards the tower as Toph felt the sea pushing harder against the sides of the ship. “You can’t swim,” Mao had said when Toph had started protesting. “You can’t be out like this if you can’t swim.”

So here she was, curled up on her bed, trying to ignore the up and down motion of the ship as it rocked through her body. It had only been three days since Toph had seen land, but she was dizzier than she’d ever been before on the ship, and rolling back into the wall only made things worse. She hadn’t even tried burrowing into her stones.

She could hear people stomping around in the halls, the impression of yelling. It seemed to go on forever, even if it shouldn’t. There was the noise of her trunks scuffing back and forth and Toph hoped the surging didn’t get worse. She didn’t want one landing on her. She wouldn’t be able to see it coming.

About an hour after the worst of the moving and shifting was over, Zuko found Toph still in the room, curled up on her side and clutching her rock pillow to her stomach, breathing as slowly and evenly as she knew how. She heard him check at the door, his stomps turning into something much softer as he crossed the room to her side, kneeling down.

“Toph?”

“Mnf.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she growled, curling in tighter.

Zuko sighed. “It wasn’t safe on the—”

“I don’t care.”

The floor was still rocking back and forth, back and forth, gentle now, but more noticeable than usual. She could feel the tilt of it, feel her insides following it back and forth.

“Are you…sure you’re okay?”

Growling some more, Toph took a blind swing in the direction of his voice. He caught her arm, and his hand was warm but slightly damp. There was a water smell, she thought, taking the next breath through her nose. “Don’t get my bed wet.”

“Okay.” His fingers flexed around her arm, testing more than tightening. “If you want, it’s probably safe for you to move around inside. But you should stay in the tower until we have a dry deck.”

Since moving sounded like a stupid plan, Toph let go of the instinct to act in direct, contrary opposition to his orders and just said, “Fine.”

His, “Thank you,” was actually gentle, and Toph was almost embarrassed enough to say screw it and run outside. She was not a delicate lady!

But she was still dizzy, and she couldn’t swim, and as good as drowning had seemed in comparison to whatever hellish marriage her father had arranged several weeks ago, whatever this was with Zuko was…not worth dying over.

Besides, they’d probably still rescue her, and then she’d be nauseous and wet.

Pass.

Mao made her way up to the deck, nodding to Engineer Rishi as she passed him cleaning up the water that had spilled down through the hatch. He smiled, unusually cheerful for being stuck doing such a task and for a moment she marveled at it.

But then, no one had had to save the princess from falling overboard, which there had been real concerns about given, well—given the princess.

It would be inaccurate to say the prince had relaxed these past weeks, but there was a focused calm to him that was less…heightened than before his wife had arrived. Or even than those first few weeks when she’d shuffled around the ship, hands pressed to the walls, toes digging into the floor every so often, her head cocking this way and that as she would stop at random intervals and just…listen.

It was a good measure, Mao thought, of how normal things had become that she was used to the princess not looking at anyone when she was speaking.

And she was speaking a lot more now, and not just to the general. Which, thank the spirits, hadn’t prompted any overprotective or jealous responses from her husband.

Yet.

Mao made her way to the command tower, relaxing into a waiting posture as the prince finished reviewing the charts with Lieutenant Jee, debating how close they should get to their next port before hitting land.

And wasn’t that interesting.

When her prince looked up, Mao straightened to full attention, saying, “You needed me, sir?”

Movements as tense as she had seen in weeks the prince nodded, gesturing her to follow him as he headed towards the stairs. In the relative privacy of the halls he said, “At one of our next stops I need you to start teaching the princess how to swim.”

Mao didn’t quite slip on the stairs, but it was a near thing. “Um, sir.” His gaze flashed to her and she took a second to be grateful she was walking on his right. The expression was easier to parse and while he was definitely displeased, he didn’t seem outright angry. Yet. “I don’t think the princess will like that,” Mao said diplomatically.

“She needs to learn,” was his only answer.

So Mao nodded, and listened silently as he discussed the most likely stops they would make, and depending on which, how much time they would have for Mao, and whoever she wanted to assist, to start teaching the princess.

The moment she was dismissed, Mao turned her mind to parsing how…upset the princess would be with this decision. And how best Mao would go about trying to convince her.

Chapter Text

“No.” Toph dug her toes into the sand, ready to harden it around her feet if she had to. “I won’t.”

It was impossible to tell between the fuzziness of the beach and Mao’s feet already being in the water, but Toph was pretty sure there was agitation in Mao’s movements as she sighed. “Princess, I have orders.”

“I don’t swim,” Toph said, digging her feet further in. “I can’t see.”

And she was going to get Zuko for pulling this little trick. Taking them to land not even a week after that stupid storm, and all so that he could make her get in the water.

Coward wasn’t even here to face her himself. He was going to pay for that.

“I’ll be right next to you the entire time,” Mao promised, and Toph nearly growled because she was not a child, and Mao didn’t need to speak like she was addressing one. “You don’t need to see to learn the basics, you’ll be able to feel where the water begins and ends.”

Which, while true, was beside the point. “I’m not doing it.”

Shiya was further up the beach, probably set up as a lookout. The rest of the crew were pretty far away, all things considered, much closer to the ship than this little inlet. So it was only Shiya who got to watch this little show, and Toph was pretty sure she could survive that. Shiya knew better than to mess with Toph.

“Princess, I swear on my life I won’t let anything happen to you. Please.”

It was hard to decide which part of that was worse. The bone deep conviction of the promise, searing even at a distance, solid as anything Toph could imagine. Or the gentleness of the pleading, because Mao was trapped just as surely as Toph was, and if Zuko had asked Toph couldn’t pull rank on the request and they were just doing their job…

“Me learning to swim won’t help,” Toph protested. “Once I’m in the water I can’t see where I’m going. Being able to move doesn’t do me any good.”

And she wasn’t too afraid of being blind, Toph could handle that. And she wasn’t scared of the water itself, that was just stupid. It was just a waste of time and energy and she wasn’t putting up with it, and—

“I didn’t know Princess Ina very well,” Mao said, and Shiya went so rigid so quickly even Toph couldn’t miss it in the fuzziness of the sand. “She wasn’t with us for a very long time.”

Rocking back slightly, pressure in the growing silence, Toph said, “Oh?”

“None of us knew her,” Mao continued, her voice softening. It was impossible to read her in the water, and Toph was furious because this was important and Mao was making her hear it blind. “She died about six hours after the wedding.”

It didn’t register at first. It didn’t mean anything. There was nothing about the words that made sense.

And then they did.

“What?”

It was infuriating because Mao was still in the water, so Toph could only rely on her voice as Mao said, “No one was expecting an attack at all, much less when the wedding party was still there. Princess Azula was in attendance, as well as the Prince and the General. With so much of the royal family there, we thought…” There was an aching pause, the only sound water shushing up and down against the sand. “We failed her. All of us did. And Princess Lian.” A deep, slow breath. “We’re not going to fail you too. I promise. Please, Princess.”

The “please” made Toph shift, but she only asked, “Who’s Princess Lian?”

When Mao spoke it was painfully precise. “She was the prince’s second wife.”

Second. Which made Toph the third. And if Mao’s explanation was accurate, they’d both died. Probably pretty horribly.

This explained so much about Zuko. “Were they benders?”

“Princess Ina was. Princess Lian wasn’t.”

Six hours. A firebender chosen to marry the prince, and she hadn’t lasted six hours. Toph…did not like the implications of that.

Not that she had any right to judge, having thrown herself off her father’s ship. “Did you know Princess Lian very well?”

“Better,” Mao said. “We had her with us for about six months, but she spent most of her time with the prince. She didn’t have much to say to us. She was…made for polite society. Soldiers and sailors were strange for her.”

Six hours, then six months. It had just been over six weeks, so Toph was somewhere in between the two then. She wondered idly if she had managed to drown if that would have been at about six minutes.

It made her sick, suddenly. The thought that she might have died that day. Not just because she didn’t want to be dead, but because, well, Zuko didn’t deserve that. She’d been mad at her father and sick from the sailing, and element deprived and tired and desperate. So desperate to avoid the hushed fears her mother had whispered to her father, the nasty comments the sailors had made to each other, the very concept of having a husband and obligations and a life she hadn’t chosen for herself. She hadn’t been worried about the consequences for anyone else.

She didn’t know how Zuko had found her so quickly to pull her out, but Toph could admit she was grateful for it now. For his sake, as well as hers.

But man, how was she going to say she was grateful without actually telling him. No way was he going to respond well to, “Congrats on finally saving your wife’s life.”

The gentle sound of the waves seemed to offer an answer, as much as Toph hated it.

“I still don’t see how it will help me to learn how to swim.”

There was a huff of something almost like a laugh from Mao. “Even if you can’t see it, I’ll find a way to show it to you. I promise.”

Two promises in one afternoon. Toph hadn’t gotten a lot of those on Zuko’s ship. Her mother had used to throw around the word promise. Her father too, though with him there was a higher chance it would stick. The careful frugality that her Fire crew offered them with put more weight on this.

Zuko had promised too, hadn’t he? That she’d be safe.

“I’m not gonna like it,” Toph grumbled, making her way to the edge of the water, the cool slip of it across her toes, the damp firmness of the sand under her feet, making her shiver. “No matter how good I get.”

She could just make out the soft ripple of Mao coming to meet her, felt the warm radiance of a hand hovering near her elbow, seeking permission. “I think we can live with that.”

However humiliating it was, Toph would get good at it, she promised herself. There was no point in trying if she wasn’t going to aim for the best.

Prince Zuko was pacing on a stretch of beach near the ship. Arms rigid at his sides, but swinging in sharp jerks as he moved ten steps, pulled an about face, and retraced another ten steps. Jee would have been more worried, but the General was keeping an eye on things, from a distance, and while there was a chorus of groans from the men losing money over pai sho, Jee could see those clever eyes seeking the prince every so often, observing for a moment before a tile was moved or tea was sipped.

“I will get you back for this.”

The princess’s return brought something like a sigh of relief for Jee, even as he processed the absolute seriousness of her threat. Level, stubborn, unyielding. Spirits, but with her hair dripping and buried in extra layers to keep off the cold she still moved like a mountain.

And Jee could almost believe, almost, that the prince’s lips had twitched. And not in a grimace.

“I’ll watch out for it,” the prince’s answer was grave, as serious as his wife’s announcement. “Did you make any progress?”

The princess only grimaced, and it was Sergeant Mao who answered, “Enough for today, sir. Will lunch be ready when we’re back?”

No one had made plans for the party to eat on the beach, but there was a not so subtle message in that wording that Jee knew the prince hadn’t missed. It could have been a reward for the princess, or a necessity after the lessons. Jee hadn’t forgotten how the princess looked the first time he saw her after the storm, or the stern resignation from the prince as they planned this stop. If the princess and water didn’t get along, they would have to account for that.

“It can be,” Prince Zuko said. “Uncle, if you want to eat on board—”

“I see no reason to go inside when it is such a fine day out. Unless you would rather eat with your wife in private?”

The teasing tone earned a grimace from the prince, who waved an arm at all of the attending crew members and said, “If I wanted that we would eat inside.”

Jee didn’t wince, but he noticed Shiya did. It wasn’t…bad for the prince to say such things. It just didn’t sound good either. And with her already bundled up, it was hard to see any physical response from the princess, to know if it had had any impact.

She had to know the prince wasn’t graceful with his words by now. All of them did. But that didn’t make some of his rougher slips singe any less.

“Or I build something,” the princess said, her tone suspiciously casual. “Since we’re on land.”

There was a slow blink from the prince, a look of interest from the general, and a series of whispers that Jee didn’t quite catch, before Prince Zuko said, “Sure. Or that.” Followed by an almost stuttering, “If you were interested.”

Jee felt his eyebrows trying to climb off his face and the General’s expression was almost euphoric.

“And what does that say,” Jee thought glumly, “that the General is so excited by something as innocuous as that?”

Nothing good. But then, that was what these past few years had been. A blind earthbending princess was the best thing to happen to them so far, and Jee still wasn’t sure how that would work out.

Given how closely the prince watched the princess return to the ship, Jee hoped this was all for the best.

Chapter Text

One thing Toph had mostly managed to avoid up to this point by not talking to Zuko was having to hear his thoughts about Avatars, past or not-currently-present.

Listening to him bicker with Uncle over some obscure story from a half-translated scroll over lunch told Toph she’d probably be better off continuing to avoid her husband if this was the only thing he talked about.

“I’m saying it doesn’t make sense that we haven’t seen a reincarnation yet. Even if Avatars live exceptionally long lives, this proves they need to be in active contact with the spirits. We’ve checked every wandering shaman and spiritualist we’ve heard of for eight years. None of them were secretly the Avatar, which means—“

“I don’t think so,” Uncle rarely cut Zuko off, but this was the third round of this particular assertion. While Toph could admire willful stubbornness, Zuko repeating himself as though no one had heard him was getting old. “Remember that every Avatar remained unaware of their identity until they were sixteen. That’s quite a few years where they weren’t mediating for the spirits. Not to mention the Avatar can hardly be two places at once. What would they do if—“

“It hasn’t been sixteen years, it’s been a hundred,” Zuko stressed, his hand hot as it pushed into the table. Toph sat back a bit, making sure she’d be clear of the edge if he accidentally flipped it. “And I didn’t say they had to deal with all spiritual matters, but it doesn’t make sense that they haven’t handled any in that time. Unless they escaped Sozin’s invasion and died late enough that when they were reborn into the Southern Water Tribes they were killed during Azulon’s attacks.”

Uncle shook his head. “The benders were mostly captured. There’s no reason to think—“

“There’s no earth at the South Pole,” Zuko snapped. “At least, not enough that they would have been able to bend it. Fire’s the opposite of water and almost impossible to control and no one would have considered airbending in decades. The Navy wouldn’t have found an Avatar, they would have found a really powerful water bender.”

“It would have required the Avatar to survive Sozin’s invasion, which was only twelve years after Avatar Roku’s death,” Uncle pointed out. “Not only would the Avatar have been unaware of their true identity, but many of their peers and teachers likely would have been as well. With how quickly the invasion happened, where would the Avatar have gone? Even believing they were only an airbender, they couldn’t have hidden.”

“Why not?” Toph asked, almost regretting inserting herself into the conversation as she felt the sharp attention of the two men on her. “Even people who’ve lived in the Earth Kingdom their whole lives don’t have any idea how many tunnels run under parts of it. They could have just hidden underground.”

“I don’t think—“ Uncle began.

“Have you checked?” Toph demanded. She wasn’t invested in Zuko being right, but she wasn’t going to let Uncle prove her wrong. So many people didn’t know about the underground networks under Gaoling, even when they used some of the caves and tunnels for smuggling or Rumbles, and that was just one city. “Do you know they aren’t underground?”

“No,” Zuko answered her, but faced his Uncle. “We haven’t checked and we don’t know.”

“Zuko…” Uncle sighed. “You are not planning on dragging your wife across the Earth Kingdom to uncover hidden tunnels, are you?”

Oh that would be awful. Not the being on land part. But Zuko watching her in an “unsafe” environment.

Not that she’d let it get that far. First thing she’d do when they hit continental land would be run. But yikes, that sounded unappealing.

“We should consider it,” Zuko grumbled, glancing at Toph and then turning away. He didn’t sound too sure about the idea, and Toph wondered if he knew what she was thinking. “There’s a good chance—“

“Living in tunnels cuts airbenders off from the sky,” Uncle pointed out. “It would be extremely difficult for them to live under such circumstances for a long time. Those who escaped the day of the invasion were caught not long after for that very reason. And that still leaves the matter of the Avatar not coming up for their training in the other elements. Eventually they would have to do so.”

“Unless they didn’t know,” Zuko offered. “You said their teachers might not have known. If no one ever told them, and they didn’t mind living underground because they were an earthbender—“

“Bending always reveals itself,” Uncle said firmly. “You know sixteen was the limit for how long it could safely be kept secret, you’ve read—“

“Then where are they?” Zuko snapped. “What’s the point of even having an Avatar if they can take a hundred-year vacation and no one cares about it? Who’s supposed to be the bridge while they’re gone?”

It was devolving into Zuko just yelling, and Toph had better things to do than listen, especially since they were still on land. With those two distracted, she slipped away from the table telling Shiya she was heading a bit further off to practice bending until they had to leave.

“I’ll come with you,” Shiya said, signaling to Jian, who nodded and grabbed Yan, both of them moving towards where Shiya had been. “Not interested in the Avatar?”

“It’s a spirit tale,” Toph shrugged. “Everyone knows those aren’t really true.”

“They do?”

Toph stopped. “You believe in them?”

“Well, not the ones where people turn into giant monsters and start eating each other. But we had rituals every summer back home to keep people from getting lured by spirits into the swamp. Some people said they were hungry and some that they were lonely, but either way we lost people when we didn’t acknowledge the spirits, and didn’t when we respected them. My mother has stories from when the governor married and his new wife came and insisted that they didn’t do such things in the capital, so we shouldn’t do them either. She imprisoned people that tried until her son went missing one night, chasing lights in the swamp.”

“Well that’s creepy,” Toph said, settling into her first stance. “Did they find him?”

The hesitation told Toph the answer even before Shiya said, “Not in time.”

“Good thing I don’t plan to visit swamps,” Toph said, pushing through her opening moves. “Although, lights wouldn’t do much for me, come to think of it.”

“Some say the lights have the voices of dead loved ones,” Shiya added. She seemed to be getting into the story, cheerfully insistent. “And I know your ears work.”

“No dead loved ones,” Toph tossed back, testing how large a section of earth she could grab before she raised it.

“I’m sure they could use living voices too,” Shiya offered.

The earth wobbled for a second, but Toph held it suspended in the air, digging her feet into the ground and breathing. No point in saying she didn’t have any of those. Shiya didn’t need to hear that and Toph wasn’t dumb enough to say it.

Even if it was true.

“All the more reason to never visit a swamp.” Ever.

“As you say, Princess.”

Oh for the love of—

Toph dropped the earth she was bending and turned, hands on her hips. “I thought we were past that.”

Shiya had meant to be teasing, Toph thought. They’d negotiated a minimal use of Toph’s title to keep things amicable between them, which was why Toph preferred Shiya’s guardianship to Mao’s most days. But there were times when Toph couldn’t be sure if the teasing was affectionate or a…lack of respect. Something about the formality could just cut, and Toph didn’t know what to do with it.

There was a sudden stiffness from Shiya, and a reluctance as she tried to settle into something more relaxed. “Yes, of course.”

And if that wasn’t painfully polite, Toph didn’t know what was.

It couldn’t be because of Zuko. He was still bickering with Uncle at the table. Jee was back on the ship and Mao was down by the water, rigid and alert and clearly on duty. They were the only ones that would scold Shiya for being too casual.

What had Toph missed?

Working her feet against the ground, Toph tried to tell who might have caused that reaction. All of the soldiers not on the ship were watching her, but that was no surprise. And none of them seemed to have Shiya’s attention. Maybe someone on the ship? Toph could see the nose of the ship embedded on the beach, but things got fuzzy from there.

Too much effort. She had earth to move.

The hardest part about practicing at this point was not looking too competent. That had been the real struggle at the end with Rumbles too. People there wanted a show, not Toph just punting people off the stage in the first two seconds. Some of her coolest moves, her crazy ones, she’d never gotten to show off because they were too precise and little or too much for the ring.

She had the opposite problem here. These people probably did want to know what she was capable of, and she was not going to tell them. She trusted most of them…to a point. But even before Mao’s confession Toph had known she wasn’t popular among all the crew. And she knew better than to hand her enemies all her secrets.

It was the most important lesson she’d learned from her father.

Anger didn’t mix well with the kind of bending she did unless she was fighting and Toph had to pause, breathe, and carefully set everything she’d been working with down. She smoothed most of it back into place, trying to work around the ball of hurt that burned in her chest.

She didn’t know why she’d expected better from them. They’d never lived up to it before.

The nice thing, Huang thought, about large open spaces, was how far sound carried. It meant he could keep casual tabs on the prince and general—and someone was going to be extra grumpy tonight—while also doing his duty to keep an eye on the princess. Who was chatting with Shiya, who always managed to get a bit more out of the princess than the rest of them.

Convenient, that.

Her bending was…disturbing.

He’d done a stint near the embarrassing excuse the Earth Kingdom called a navy at one point, and he’d seen army benders at work before. He’d even seen farmers and builders this last year as he’d been dragged around on the prince’s ship. Their bending was predictable. Solid. Familiar.

The princess bent like she had a knife to your throat and just hadn’t figured out if she wanted to kill you yet.

It was sharp angles and fast movements, clean and neat in a way Huang had never seen from other earthbenders. And if that wasn’t creepy enough, she didn’t have to see it.

Sure, a firebender could start throwing fireballs blind. If he wanted to light up everything he loved and burn it to the ground.

The princess had clearly demonstrated she was doing something to keep track of the shape of the ship and the placement of people and all the little details that had terrified the crew when they’d realized their newest charge was blind.

But watching her bend in any direction, not turning her head or body, movements and bending still precise enough to leave no trace of what she had done?

Creepy.

And she wasn’t done yet.

“Do me a favor?” the princess asked, probably to Shiya since she was closest.

“Of course.” And Shiya was way too calm about that request after what she had just seen, which told Huang all he needed to know about how long she’d been out in the field before she’d been dumped here.

There was a stomp and a series of stones popped out at Shiya’s feet. Which was weird enough before the princess said, “Throw those at me.”

Huang felt himself jump and saw Shiya actually recoil. “Are—Are you sure?”

“Yes.” The princess was clearly annoyed and Huang watched, almost amused, as Shiya bent, grabbed a stone that was almost as large as her head, and tossed it underhand towards the princess.

Who scoffed, flicked her hand up, and stopped the stone midair. “I said throw.”

Shiya glanced in the prince’s direction and the princess scowled. “I—I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“You have a better idea for how I should practice catching these?” the princess demanded. “‘Cause I’d love to hear it.”

Huang glanced in the prince’s direction and saw he had stopped speaking to the general. That he was staring at his wife and her guard.

Shiya had noticed too.

There was a long, agonizing pause as everyone’s attention shifted to the princess, with quick glances to the prince, as her posture got tighter and tighter.

Then the prince slowly, deliberately, turned away.

Huang released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, almost chuckling as Shiya tentatively reached for another stone and threw it, not managing much more force than for the first. The princess started heckling, and Huang settled in for some good entertainment.

Chapter Text

“Give me one good reason,” Zuko was rubbing his forehead, deliberately looking away from her, “that I should agree to this.”

“I’m a genius,” Toph tossed back, tapping the base of the smokestack. “And the other option is for me to practice on the furnace, which is way more risky.”

Rishi had been more than happy to explain to complexities of trying to maintain a one hundred year old ship without proper support once Toph had gotten him started. It hadn’t even been hard to avoid explaining why she wanted to know. She’d just asked if she could hang around the coal for a few minutes, and when he’d tried to suggest she’d be happier somewhere cleaner—hilarious—had asked how coal made the ship move.

She’d understood about half of what he’d said about heat levels and pressure and airflow shifts and top speeds. But when he’d started talking wear and tear on the vessel, storage issues, coal grades, and how many hours his subordinates spent moving rocks, she’d been able to keep up well enough he just hadn’t stopped.

Until Zuko had come looking for her and the engineer had mumbled apologies about keeping the princess in an uncomfortable spot.

Which was stupid, but she couldn’t say she was surprised.

The slight twitching Zuko had been doing since she’d told him what she wanted to try was starting to get old. “Have you ever done something like this before?” he asked.

“Moved earth?” she answered, knocking on the wall in front of her and testing the echoes. “Oh, I don’t know. Sure. Maybe a few times.”

“Bent earth that you can’t—“ he started on a growl and cut off so abruptly Toph couldn’t help herself.

She had to add, in the sweetest voice she could manage, “Can’t see?”

Jee was shaking with silent laughter, and Shiya probably was too, although it was harder to tell with her standing further away. Uncle’s face was buried in his hands.

“That you’re seeing through metal,” Zuko ground out. “All the other earth you’ve bent, you’ve had direct access to it. You’ve touched it before you bent it.”

She thought about protesting, but Toph realized he was right. He’d never seen her bend anything beyond his own visual range before. Which didn’t mean she hadn’t done it, but it did make his argument slightly less cowardly and pathetic.

“I’ve been seeing through metal for weeks,” she said, her palm now flat against the steel next to her. “I can already tell you what the inside of the stack looks like, and boy is it a mess. If I can clean out the buildup here, I’ll bet I can keep the furnace clean too. And with a lot less effort.”

Nothing wrong with Lei and Chihiro’s skills, but there were only two of them. Even on a relatively small ship, that was a lot to ask. Especially since only Chihiro was a bender, and Lei had to keep the fires even by sight alone.

Toph couldn’t help with that, but she could move coal. No matter how small and burnt it was.

She got a reluctant nod from Zuko and that was as much permission as Toph was willing to wait for. Pressing her palms flat against the wall, she kicked it once, twice, three times, watching the vibrations and feeling the tug of earth against metal.

In fairness to Zuko, bending smokey buildup from coal off of walls was not something most earthbenders thought about. Coal, sure. That was rocks, solid and simple. But the remains after it had been burned? Well, for most benders that probably wouldn’t count. Toph might not have counted it, if she hadn’t been stuck on the ship for so long, testing her bending and her earthsense.

Which was why she was practicing here, before she started messing with the sensitive stuff.

It was easy to see the difference between what she wanted to grab and the metal walls. Both had been touched by fire, but one was fused together, slippery when her bending touched it, the memory of earth present but slick and hard to grasp. The other was fine and powdery, like sand that had been pulverized by heat, or exploded by it.

She wanted the powdery stuff off, but if she gripped too hard it would just float away.

A light touch then.

After she’d beaten it off the walls.

There weren’t forms for this. No specialized movements to easily translate will and bending into movement. Just Toph, the base and center, and the world bending around her.

These were her favorite kinds of tricks.

She slammed her palms against the wall, one at a time. Slowly at first, to test how responsive the dust was, and faster as she felt chunks and puffs of it dislodging. When she thought she had enough, she pressed both palms against the metal again, using the stack to help her see and sense the mess she’d just made, making slow, wide circles against the surface, coaxing the pieces into a more solid mass that would be easier to use.

When she had a healthy chunk, she pulled one hand back and punched into the air. There was a series of gasps all around her, and the faint feeling of earth falling towards the deck.

She caught the soot mass at about shoulder height, hanging right next to Zuko’s face.

“Hey look,” she smiled, whirling a finger and letting the mass spin. “It worked.”

There was a moment before Zuko answered, completely flat, “I see that.”

Jee actually choked that time, and Toph let herself laugh. Just once. “Good. I pulled most of this from the base, which is closest to me but further than the furnace would be. I think I’ll try and practice a bit more here, but this should work great for what we want.”

Zuko turned to Rishi, who straightened as the prince asked, “Will it?”

“Looks like she got the right stuff out, sir,” came the muttered reply as Rishi poked the mass Toph was still holding. “If we never have to steam clean the grates again, it’ll at least save time. Probably be good for Lei’s health, too. He’s been at this longer than Chihiro, sir, and the ash always gets to you eventually. With only the two of them and me, that just isn’t enough to keep them safe.”

Zuko was nodding, but he was also twice as tense as he’d been a moment before. Toph watched the subtle shifts that said he was thinking, possibly close to an explosion. “If she gets what she needs to practicing with the stack, give her a breakdown of the tasks she could best help with and how much time you think they’d take. We’ll see how she can be fit into the schedule.”

He was not happy. It should have still felt like a win—Toph would get to do something—but Zuko’s pouting was making a mess when it all should have been good news.

“What’s the problem?” she demanded when she found him later, the rest of her experiments a complete success. He was meditating in the dining room, sitting in front of an altar. Toph thought she could see one lit candle and two behind it, not burning, but it was hard to be sure.

And maybe since she’d bothered to shut the door, he actually answered, “I don’t like you having to do this.”

“I don’t have to do it,” Toph pointed out. “I volunteered.”

“It’s not fitting for your station,” he ground out, not facing her. “You shouldn’t need to do this.”

It seemed so petty, but Toph was more tired than she’d admit and not up to yelling about that. So she said, “All of my bending was stuff I learned outside my ‘station,’ even when I wasn’t,” she grimaced, “a princess. That was the only place I was allowed to use it.”

She’d told him about the badgermoles, but apparently he hadn’t understood. Hadn’t really thought through the implications. His breath paused, then released, long and slow. “It doesn’t bother you? At all?”

She shrugged, then realized he wouldn’t have noticed since he still wasn’t facing her. “Maybe normal daughters of noble houses would care. But they probably had stuff they were supposed to do instead of bending. I didn’t even exist outside my parents’ home. It’s kind of hard to find being useful more demeaning than being invisible.”

“Oh.”

A thought crossed her mind, and she asked, “Did they tell you? How the Fire Lord managed to convince my father to agree to this?”

He turned at that, still seated on the floor, but actually giving her his full attention. “Father said they’d negotiated something, that we needed the supply lines your family had but the Earth Kingdom couldn’t know about it since…well, we’re still at war. I didn’t…really ask.”

He was looking away from her, and Toph wasn’t sure if she should be angry or not. What the Fire Lord had negotiated had probably seemed a lot less important to Zuko than the risks of being married a third time, and to someone from an enemy nation no less.

Actually, the more she thought about that the more Toph was sure that she should be angry. Just maybe not at Zuko.

“I don’t know a ton about Earth Kingdom politics,” Toph admitted. “Gaoling is a big city, but that’s mostly because of trade. There’s lots of nobles that function as local governors across the Kingdom, and others that hold lesser titles but carry weight because they have a lot of wealth. My dad’s more the second. We’ve never been to Ba Sing Se or really heard from anyone there. My parents got invited to stuff that was nearby, but…” It was hard to explain partly because it didn’t make any sense. “I didn’t go. They didn’t tell anyone about me, ever. We had the money for private guards and a big house, but not the influence to keep me safe, he said. And even without the blindness, only having a daughter to represent your house is kind of a liability.”

“Why?”

He sounded honestly confused and that confused Toph. “Because they don’t inherit?” When he didn’t say anything, she added, “He’d have to adopt an heir, or marry someone in. There’s plenty of people ‘respectable’ enough, but none that he’d trust with his business. I guess brains aren’t something you find in most noble Earth families,” she added, making it biting enough to lighten the mood.

Didn’t work though. “They won’t let you inherit? Just because you’re a girl?”

It should maybe have occurred to Toph, given the number of women that worked as soldiers on the ship, that this was a difference between their worlds. “Yeah.”

“And your father’s solution was to have you get married to the prince of another country?”

She wouldn’t giggle, but Toph couldn’t help the smile that crept onto her face. “Nah, he just wasted so much time trying to figure out how he wanted to admit he’d been hiding me for the past seventeen years that your dad found out and blackmailed him instead.”

“What?”

Toph shrugged. “My dad didn’t have any better offers, much less anyone that could protect me enough to prevent your dad from putting leverage on mine to get access to his business.”

The silence was hot and painful, and Zuko said, “They had you marry me so you would be safe?”

“I’m guessing your dad didn’t say anything about your other two wives,” she offered.

That only made him stiffen more. “Uncle told you.”

“A couple people mentioned it,” Toph hedged. She didn’t want Mao to get in trouble and Zuko did not sound happy that Toph knew. “Although I should have heard it from you. Weeks ago.”

If he were any stiffer, Toph would think he was a rock. “I didn’t want to scare you. I didn’t—“ His hands clenched and unclenched and his temperature spiked. “I didn’t know how you’d react. What you’d do, if you knew.”

“And my general attitude these last couple months didn’t give you a single clue?” she scoffed. He had no answer for that, but she wasn’t really surprised. “Look, I get that I was probably the worst thing that could have happened to you at this point—“

“That’s not true!” Toph felt her mouth hanging half open, but couldn’t make it move. “You’re not— This isn’t— It’s good it’s you…”

“Wha—Why?”

“You fit in here,” Zuko said. “Better than I thought you would. It’s easier to keep you safe.”

Toph wasn’t sure how that worked, but if it did, that was probably a good thing. “I’m tougher than I look.”

“Yeah,” he whispered. “I know.”

The general was usually pretty subtle, but he was distracted enough that Huang had started winning their current match and Jee knew what that meant.

There hadn’t been any yelling this time from behind that closed door, which was probably a good thing. Although with the prince, you could never tell. He seemed to talk himself into an infinite supply of trouble without any effort, or even yelling, required.

Although yelling did tend to happen when he talked too much.

Not this time though. There was the distant sound of a door and the firm tread that said the prince was coming up to the bridge, and while they’d been expecting the scowl, this one seemed more thoughtful than angry.

“How was your mediation?” the general asked, and Jee watched Yan and Jian flinch. Huang was still focused on the board.

The scowl deepened, and the prince said, “Fine.”

But he turned to look back down the stairs as he said it, and for a moment his face softened just a little.

Which was good news for everyone but Huang, going by the general’s satisfied look and sudden attention to the board.

Chapter Text

It was hot by the furnace. Like, crazy hot. Hotter than a room with Zuko in a temper, and those could get pretty warm. Fast.

Toph could mostly ignore the sweat dripping down her neck and back. She was used to that sort of thing.

The sweat on her legs? Dripping almost to her toes? On her forearms? Creeping towards her fingers and already sweaty palms?

Not so much.

There was a clang as Lei dropped the furnace grate to the floor, almost wheezing as he did. “This okay, Princess?”

If not for the heat, Toph would have considered their politeness the worst part of this job. But she had stopped trying to correct Lei. Man didn’t have an ounce of flexibility in him, unlike Chihiro. Toph thought she could win Chihiro over. “Yeah, gimme a second.”

Tapping her toes against the floor helped get Toph the clarity she needed, and she grabbed at the coal on the grate, feeling it coarse against the metal. One hand to hold everything in place, the other punching forward, then slicing up and down, left and right. Two hands to hold, moving sideways and the coal followed them, slipping off the grate and falling neatly into the buckets.

Two minutes. Tops.

“How’s that?” Toph asked, shaking out her hands. She hadn’t realized she was holding them so tightly.

Lei and Chihiro were both staring at the buckets, not so much as twitching. Then Chihiro laughed. “Can’t believe the Navy doesn’t take on earthbenders. No burning sense.”

“How would they?” Toph asked, stepping out of the way as they started to move the buckets. “You’re on opposite sides.”

There was some spluttering from Chihiro and Lei said, “She’s never seen a map, Chi. Not unless someone took the time to draw it on the ground for her.”

“The war’s been going on a hundred years,” Chihiro shot back. “And we’ve been winning it. What do you think that means?” she asked, turning towards Toph.

Who had a hard time not smacking her head in frustration. “You captured the territory. And the people.”

“We’ve got earthbenders,” Lei nodded as he started hauling the grate back into the furnace. “In the colonies at least. Some of them even serve in the Army. Not in the invasion force,” he added, grunting. “Command won’t let them anywhere they could turn spy too easily. But in the local garrisons, for defense, sure. Every warm body counts.”

There was something acid in how he said that, and Toph felt Chihiro flinch. “Not everyone gets flames and glory?” Toph asked, allowing a hint of sarcasm.

“Oh there’s plenty of fire,” Lei grumbled. “And smoke. But no, the glory doesn’t really get spread around. You never see any of it around here.”

“Can’t say I’ve seen it anywhere,” Toph offered, and Lei laughed, coughing a bit at the end.

“Me neither.”

“No one really does,” Chihiro’s voice was soft, her movements precise. “We’ve hit a pretty hard stalemate as far as conquest goes. It’s difficult to keep supplies and troops moving inland quickly enough to make any sort of push, no matter how much they pull from the islands.”

“Makes it easier on us, though,” Lei said, moving for a shovel. “The Prince’s banishment means he can’t set foot on Fire Nation land. Makes docking anywhere north a royal pain, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

He moved towards a pile of coal, Chihiro grabbing a shovel to join him, and Toph said, “Wait, how much do you need?”

“It matters how you place it,” Lei growled, hunching slightly. “Needs an even spread on the grate and you’ve never seen one before.”

“So let me put it in and show me,” Toph said, lifting some of the coal and moving it to the furnace. “I’m already down here.”

Chihiro seemed happy enough to drop her shovel and watch, but Lei kept his swung over his shoulder as he nagged Toph, complaining about the size of the some of the pieces until she broke them and grumbling about placement until everything was, as he put it, perfect.

“Not bad,” Chihiro added, staring into the furnace for a bit before punching at the coal, the sound of flames crackling. It got, if possible, even hotter.

She didn’t stop at the punching though. In a series of moves more fluid than anything Toph had seen from a firebender before, Toph felt the flames wash over the whole bed of coal. Chihiro held her palms flat towards the floor, pressing gently every so often, or raising them slightly, as she maintained even breathing.

Lei was watching the fire, Toph thought. Once or twice he poked something into the fire, making fine adjustments to the coal inside. Toph thought about offering to help, but instead watched quietly, trying to see what they were doing through how the metal grate and walls of the furnace changed temperature.

When Chihiro sliced her hands apart, letting out a gasp, Toph could feel the even spread of heat in the furnace, with almost no variation.

“Wow,” she whispered.

Chihiro snorted. Then stiffened. “Sorry, Princess.”

Toph waved a hand in dismissal, asking, “How come no one else ever does anything like that?”

“Benders?” Chihiro asked, accepting a ladle of water from Lei. “Army ones don’t need it. Or most people. My family is from a tiny island about as far south from the Capital as you can get, and east. Father’s a blacksmith, but we don’t have forges like the ones they do for the shipyards. You want a hot fire, you have to work it yourself. Saves fuel if you can get it up to heat quickly and keep it even without knocking everything around.”

“And the Army thinks they don’t need that skill?” Toph asked, waving at the ship around them.

Lei laughed. “Real Navy vessels have huge crews of stokers and get their coal at a cheaper rate. Waste doesn’t bother them. Everything they’ve got, they’ve got spare.”

“Or they can drag it out of backwaters,” Chihiro growled, stepping away from the furnace.

“What do you mean?” Toph asked.

For a moment it seemed like no one would answer, but then Chihiro said, “They aren’t officially drafting people anymore. After the siege and some major losses…“ Something happened between Lei and Chihiro as they looked at each other, but before Toph could ask, Chihiro added, “Anyway, the governors can’t compel people to join, but every so often they’ll send someone to around, talking about how fortunate we are to be supported by the Fire Lord and how wonderful it would be if we could show our gratitude. Someone always goes,” Chihiro shrugged.

“And they prefer firebenders?” Toph asked, hating how small her voice sounded. 

“Only near the Capital,” Lei said, patting Chihiro’s shoulder once. “Further out…well, Imperial bending is the standard style, but you get better training in it the larger the city you’re from, and the closer you are to the throne. The rest of us have tricks we use at home, but they don’t earn you higher ranks. Only formal test results do.”

“It’s not so bad,” Chihiro shrugged. “I didn’t want to use my bending for fighting anyway. They just needed someone and my father was too old and Jingyi was a better smith than I was. Made more sense for me to go. And they were pretty relieved when I ended up here, even though we can’t go home since the prince is banished. We get harassed by pirates sometimes, but only stupid ones. It’s about the safest place I could be.”

“That’s…nice,” Toph offered, not sure how to feel. “You need any more coal moved?”

There was a grunt from Lei and he gestured her to follow, explaining the mass storage verses the replacement fuel they kept on the floor, how he and Chihiro took turns moving coal and watching the fire.

“Rishi doesn’t hel—take a shift?” she asked, adjusting the amount of coal she was holding to meet Lei’s specifications.

“He’s too busy keeping things clean and working. The boiler doesn’t just move the ship, it upkeeps our fresh water supply and the secondary unit means we get decent showers. Any problems in the pipes, we wouldn’t just be dead in the water.” He gestured for her to drop some more coal.

Toph complied, but made a note to ask if it was because there wasn’t enough room by the furnace, or he thought it was too heavy for her. “So, we’d all be dead without you.”

“Far enough out, probably,” Lei agreed, moving back towards the furnace. “You can heat the boiler with bending for a really short time with two or three people, but they burn out too quick to get you very far. On a warship, that’s not so bad, since there could be tens of benders, but here…”

“Dead,” Toph repeated, dropping the coal out of the way. And now they were going back for more. Yeah, she’d better tell him how much she could hold in one go comfortably. This was going to be a stupid number of trips otherwise.

Chihiro tested the temperature with her bending and her eyes, waiting until the soft sound of the princess’s footsteps had been gone for a few minutes before she said, “Well, I’m sold. We’re keeping her.”

“You shouldn’t tell her so much,” was Lei’s only reply. He coughed once before adding, “She could tell the prince.”

“She’s not like other nobles,” Chihiro protested, turning to glare.

Lei shrugged. “Oh, and we know so many.”

“We knew Princess Lian. And you knew Princess Ina. Is she anything like them?”

“No,” Lei conceded, scratching at his grey hair. “She’s not.”

“No complaints about the heat, or the smell,” Chihiro plucked at the front of her shirt and sniffed it. She was getting too used to the stench, it almost didn’t register. “And you haven’t been coughing all morning.”

It wouldn’t last, they knew. Once they started really stirring the ashes and shoveling more coal, it would get worse. But Rishi had almost begged them to give the princess a chance, avoiding looking at Lei the whole time, and Chihiro knew. They all did.

“We’re keeping her,” Chihiro said, propping her hands on her hips like her mother would have. “And we’re keeping her down here as much as possible.”

Lei snorted, almost smiling. “I expect the prince will have something to say to that.”

Chapter Text

“Oh dear,” Uncle said as he saw her, and Toph could tell he meant it. “I take it you had a productive morning?”

“Yup,” she answered, ready to just walk past him. Until Zuko poked his head out. She couldn’t see his expression, but, as she could have guessed, he went all tense and stiff as he saw her. “Problem?” she demanded.

“How did it go?” he asked, ignoring her question and pretty much answering it.

“Great,” Toph smiled, and made sure it wasn’t nice. “Everything worked just fine. They want me back this afternoon.”

In spite of his hand tightening on the doorframe, Zuko gritted out, “That’s…good.”

“Yup,” Toph said, rocking back slightly and wondering if she should make a break for it.

“What are you going to do until then?” Zuko asked, surprising her.

She hadn’t thought about it. “Dunno. Didn’t have special plans or anything.” It was almost time for tea with Uncle, although she’d definitely need to change first. She could probably get the worst of the mess off her skin without needing to wash up, although she wasn’t sure that would take care of the smell.

She realized the problem just as Zuko said, “We’re going to need to get you a work uniform, aren’t we?”

“It’s probably a good idea,” she admitted, wondering if the dress she was wearing was at all salvageable. She’d picked it because it was easy to keep the sleeves out of her way and the hem didn’t trail at all. The last thing she wanted was to try and help and then end up a walking fire hazard. She’d known it would get pretty dirty, but she hadn’t been thinking much about what that meant long term.

“Should I go talk to the captain?” Uncle asked, a smile in his voice.

“I’ll go,” Zuko sighed. “We’ll need to find something nearby, and that probably means a merchant ship. He’s got the schedule.”

Toph’s eyebrows went up. “I thought they avoided schedules that were too tight. To avoid pirates.”

“They do,” Zuko agreed, sounding almost impressed. And then a little smug. “But you watch someone long enough, you eventually figure them out.”

Which was the most relatable thing Toph had ever heard come out of his mouth. It was the core of her bending style, her method for getting around her parents, her way of life. She couldn’t stop her lips from twitching up as she said, “Well yeah.”

For some weird reason that answer made Zuko warm slightly. He didn’t sound upset exactly, but he definitely stuttered as he said, “I’m going to see the captain,” and then pretty much fled for the stairs.

“What was that about?” Toph muttered.

Uncle’s chuckle was suspiciously close to a cackle. “Oh, nothing serious, I’m sure.”

Toph made the mistake of sticking her tongue out at him, earning a taste of ash and sweat that made her cough and had Uncle laughing some more.

Jee didn’t say anything when the prince came up to the bridge with his cheeks and the tips of his ears pink, but he did share a look with Sergeant Mao, whose mouth stayed in a prim line but eyes crinkled slightly.

The prince’s succinct request cast enough light on the situation that Jee felt vindicated in his amusement.

“Of course, sir. I have the maps over here, and I think we’re close to a few potential routes.”

There was nothing unusual in the prince’s sharp-edged focus as he studied the options, but Jee would still enjoy hunting down the right piece of gossip to round out this story when he was off duty.

Rishi was at the furnace when Toph came back that afternoon, and they had a long talk about what was an “appropriate” amount of work for a princess to engage in. Give the size of the ship and crew, the need, and Chihiro’s unfailing argument that Toph was not only making things easier but safer, Rishi had to admit it would be convenient for her to have some permanent roles in their rotation. Not stoking the fires, obviously, because they only had visual cues for that and no wiggle room with her making mistakes.

But he clearly didn’t like it. And he did say they’d have to put off integrating her until she had new clothes.

“It’s just too much of a hazard,” he waved at her, and she assumed he meant the sleeves and skirts, which was fair. “And it’s too hot down here. You’ll get dehydrated.”

There was a wince from Chihiro and Lei nodded. “Prince wouldn’t like that.”

“I wouldn’t like that,” Toph said. She didn’t know for sure if she’d been dehydrated before, but she’d definitely had some trouble adjusting to getting her own food and water when she’d spent any extended time training with the badgermoles. She’d been really, really thirsty plenty of times and she could only imagine how much worse that would be down in here, with the heat and the ash.

No wonder Lei coughed so much.

“I think Zuko is already working on it,” Toph added. “So hopefully it won’t be too long.”

“She could borrow one of my uniforms,” Chihiro offered, but she seemed pretty reluctant.

And no wonder. The crew only had a few uniforms per person, and for Chihiro and Lei especially losing one would be uncomfortable and inconvenient. Laundering schedules were strict, and Toph couldn’t imagine being stuck in what they were wearing for too long. Dirt was fine and sweat was bearable to a point, especially if you had enough dirt to roll around in. But as comforting as it was to be able to bend so much again, coal was not the same as rocks.

There was also the issue that Chihiro and Lei’s uniforms were made of different material than the rest of the crew. Everyone had clothes that were fireproofed to one degree or another—except Toph—because you didn’t live around combat ready firebenders without taking that into account. But the shoveling crew needed sturdier, more breathable weaves that were easily replaceable. Toph spent as much time memorizing the feel of Chihiro’s sleeves as she did moving coal that afternoon to make sure she could identify the right sort of fabric for her own work clothes.

She’d want two pairs, she thought. Hopefully that wouldn’t cost too much. They’d debated the merit of just requesting more military uniforms, but those requisitions would require her to be measured and would take forever to go out and come back. And the prince wasn’t…popular enough to get any sort of discount or expedition on the request.

Not super surprising, but it seriously pissed Toph off. Whatever Zuko had done to deserve his banishment—and that was an open question at this point—there was no way his crew deserved to be punished too.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Rishi asked as she was grabbing more coal to bring down. “You don’t have to. We’ve been doing just fine for years.”

“I like using my bending,” Toph told him, showing off a bit and moving the coal she held in a circle. “It’s fun, and I don’t get as many chances here on the ship. And I’m used to getting dirty from it. Doesn’t bother me.”

And, not that she was going to tell him, she liked being useful. She’d been feeling morose and angry when she’d gotten here, unbalanced and adrift. It had been partly being away from land, but she was starting to think that it had been the lazy habits she’d been developing too. Sure, she’d had to pretend to being a decoration in her parents’ home, but they’d had some things for her to do. And she’d been busy at night, even as she’d Rumbled less and less.

For all that she was an earthbender—patient, steady—inactivity didn’t appeal to her. At all.

“Besides,” she asked, “what else is there for me to do?”

Rishi’s tone was very careful as he said, “You could spend more time with the prince.”

Ouch. Okay, that was fair. But she wasn’t going to admit that. “The ship’s not that big. It’s not like I could avoid him, even if I was trying to.”

Total lie. She’d managed for weeks to do just that, although Zuko had definitely been helping. Rishi hummed, and it sounded like he didn’t agree but he was smart enough not to say anything.

At least, not until she was finished and he was escorting her back to the deck. “If I could suggest,” Rishi started, and he sounded close enough to scared, his heartbeat picking up speed, that Toph made sure she didn’t look even a little bit upset, “you could join him during his practice. The prince.”

It took her a moment to catch on. “His bending? I don’t think he’d like that.”

In fact, she was very sure he would hate it. He was paranoid enough as it was, no way did he want her around when he was throwing fireballs.

Aaand she probably shouldn’t have said that.

“He’s very cautious,” Rishi agreed, pausing at the bottom of the stairs. “But he might be more comfortable if he knew you were training too. For combat.”

About to protest, Toph stopped, thinking.

Zuko had allowed Shiya to throw rocks at Toph. He hadn’t been comfortable with it, if his body language was anything to go by. But he had permitted it. Maybe even stayed longer than originally planned to let Toph finish.

She could bring down some of her rocks and have people throw them at her while they were sailing. It would even be fun to bully the crew into doing it. “Yeah, that might be a good idea.”

Rishi was way too relieved at that answer.

Chapter Text

While she’d hoped to surprise him, Toph hadn’t thought her request would paralyze Zuko.

“Is that a no?” she asked after several minutes of him just standing there, mouth slight agape. “Because I’m gonna be honest, if this is a no, I’m gonna be pissed.”

He was almost flailing as he said, “No! I mean yes! I mean—“ There was an inarticulate growl before he managed, “I’m not saying no to you. Not about this.”

“Are you saying no about something else?” Toph asked, amused. He was completely losing it.

“I—No?” She snickered and he groaned. “That’s not what I meant and you know it!”

He was getting stupidly worked up about this, and it was the funniest thing Toph had seen in days. And a massive improvement on his sulking about her moving coal. “So what do you mean, Sparky?”

She didn’t think she’d said anything profound, but his temperature spiked at that, and he almost jumped back. “Sp—What?” Before she could answer, he pushed through and said, “I just meant that it was fine if you wanted to practice together. Or…not together but at the same time. Or together. Whatever you want.”

Honestly, what Toph had wanted was for him to suggest a better time for her to practice, since he took up way more than half the deck with his fancy dancing about. She wouldn’t be moving as much, but she’d need people to be moving around her if they were going to help her stretch her senses enough.

“You sure I wouldn’t be in the way?” she asked, because honestly, she still had no idea how this ship worked or what the schedules were. Sure, she generally knew where to find most people at a given time of day. But she didn’t know what they were doing.

He had enough sense left to at least consider the question. “Probably,” he conceded. “It might better if you took the deck before or after me.”

“Definitely after,” Toph said, not willing to try and imagine how early she’d have to get up to make that work. Zuko might start practicing midmorning, but they had breakfast not long before that, and Toph never got out of bed before Zuko. Way too much effort. “Although I don’t know how that fits in with the rest of my schedule.”

They still needed to get her new clothes before anyone was willing to finalize her working with the furnace. Which, okay, fine. It was messy and she didn’t have a lot of outfits she could afford to ruin.

“Let’s see if we can find any of the merchant ships in the area in the next few days,” Zuko said, turning to look out over the edge of the ship. “And then see how often Engineer Rishi needs your help.”

Toph thought Zuko was being pretty optimistic that the answer wasn’t an obvious every day, but she didn’t say anything. Maybe he could bring himself to admit it if they gave him a couple of days to roll it around in his head.

Wooden boats were stupid.

Toph hung on Zuko’s arm and tried to listen for the sound of footfalls to give her some idea when people were approaching. The relentless tension Zuko carried made it really hard to not also be paranoid about the whole thing.

Maybe she didn’t need to know he’d had two wives that had been murdered.

“Stairs,” he murmured, and Toph let her toes search for the edge of the first one, grateful if embarrassed that Zuko didn’t rush her as she slid her feet down one at a time. She could tell by his breathing and the sound of his head turning that he was keeping an eye out as they moved. It was impossible for her to miss, even blind, while they were smooshed together in the narrow stairwell.

His attentiveness was equal parts terrifying and reassuring and Toph tried not to cling to his arm tighter. It wouldn’t make things better and he didn’t need to know she was scared.

Sort of. A little. Just like, a pebble’s worth.

“We don’t have a lot of clothes already made up,” the captain was saying as he waited at the bottom of the stairs. “And most of what we have isn’t…ladies’ garments.”

“We’re looking for something a little more practical,” Zuko said, holding still as Toph followed him down to the next stair. She had to move carefully to make sure her feet didn’t get caught. They’d cobbled something together from Zuko and Uncle’s wardrobe since apparently none of her clothes were the right colors.

Go figure.

“I see,” the captain said. And then, “We do have plenty of shoes.“

“No,” Zuko said, before Toph could. “We don’t need those.”

She’d give credit where it was due, Zuko was a fast learner.

And it was slightly better being a on a wooden ship without wearing any shoes. Not that Toph could see any better, but it felt less awful, and that had to count for something.

There really wasn’t a large selection. But what there was were working clothes and Toph ran her fingers through them, testing for the thickness and weight she had felt from Chihiro’s outfits. Zuko hovered for a bit, but she was able to subtly elbow him off to the side so that she could move around a bit easier as she looked.

He left Shiya nearby when he said, “I see something over there, I’ll be right back.”

Which was perfect timing because Toph had finally found what she wanted, and it was time to haggle. And she didn’t want him rushing her through this.

“I think this one works,” she said, picking up a shirt and working it with her fingers until she had it right side up. “But it’s a bit big.”

She demonstrated how the sleeves would cover her fingers almost twice over. Not a problem, but never ignore a defect.

“It would generally be a man’s garment,” the captain said. “If you hem it I’m sure it will work just fine.”

Twisting her head slightly, Toph asked Shiya, “Can you do that?”

Needlework was not a feminine skill Toph’s mother had tried to teach her. Coming across as delicate and helpless was, and Toph made sure that skill was on full display.

“There’s a few of us on board who can,” Shiya answered, sounding a bit uncomfortable. Maybe it was because one of those people wasn’t her. Maybe because she thought Toph shouldn’t be asking.

Ah, well.

Toph let herself wobble as the ship rocked beneath her, leaning to her left where she felt the faint call of was had to be some kind of pottery. Muted. It had to be in a crate of some sort. But close enough and precarious enough that there was the slightest intake of breath from the captain at Toph’s wobble.

“I’m okay,” she said, waving Shiya off with one hand, allowing herself to sound annoyed. Adding when she heard Zuko turning, “I’m fine.”

“Okay,” he said, and kept looking at whatever had his attention.

Allowing another wobble as the ship rocked, Toph bumped against the crate that held the clothes she’d been inspecting. “How much for both of these?”

She picked up the garments for a second outfit, blatantly bracing herself against the crate as the captain gave the price.

“Really?” she asked, making sure her eyes went wide—never mind that she didn’t use them—and her voice went up a little.

“We’re on the water, my lady. There are limited options, and my crew does have to eat.”

Rubbing the fabric between her fingers again and sniffing the clothes a little, Toph asked, “Is this heart nettle?”

Toph’s mom had a tone for when she was deciding whether she was displeased or not. And Toph was good with imitating sounds.

“Even heart nettle is worth more on the open sea,” the captain explained, all graciousness. “And this is a superior weave.”

It was good fabric. And she didn’t want to have to keep repeating this process. But Toph had also heard Zuko going over numbers with Uncle, and she wasn’t going to cost them what Zuko seemed to think she would.

She had her pride.

Toph sighed, hefting the two sets of clothes, almost putting one or the other back. Rocked again with the shift of the boat, leaning towards the other crate and half stumbling a step. “How much for just one?”

She could hear Shiya moving in jerks, trying to decide if she should help.

They went back and forth a bit more, Toph casually leaning against the next nearest crate in the most precarious way she could think of. Either the captain had granite nerves or Zuko had a good reputation, so it didn’t carry the weight she’d hoped. But they eventually reached a price Toph was willing to accept.

It would have been easier on land. Temperamental benders got good deals when they looked just on the edge of control. And as a girl, people had always assumed Toph’s training was…less. Maybe it wasn’t fair, but Toph also knew how much merchants actually paid for a lot of their wares when they purchased them.

Walking through walls had its perks.

“Are these good?” Zuko asked, coming back over.

“Yes,” Toph said, leaning into him as Shiya took her clothes. “Did you find anything?”

“No. They didn’t have what I was looking for.”

He exchanged tense, mostly polite goodbyes with the captain and helped Toph back up the stairs, across the deck, and back to their ship. She didn’t let go of Zuko until they were in the middle of the deck, hoping that was far enough that no one from the other ship could see her. “That worked out pretty well.”

“Good,” Zuko said, lingering close. When she didn’t move or say anything else, he added, “We should go back upstairs.”

She would have asked why, but the general tension on the deck and the very careful movement patterns told her that this was probably another one of Zuko’s paranoia things. She was tempted to argue, on principle, but this Zuko looked too much like the one from her early days on the ship. And she wasn’t comfortable arguing with him yet.

So she shrugged and started walking, not saying anything when he fell into step behind her, Mao just a little ahead all the way to their room.

Jee collected the third report from the crew, marking off another zone. The prince was prowling the bridge, having abandoned his wife not long after they’d gone upstairs.

It would have taken a much braver—and stupider—man than Jee to even think about asking if everything was alright. He’d almost hoped the prince would stay with the princess until they had finished clearing the ship. She had to be bored.

And wasn’t that a revelation, he thought to himself. That he knew her well enough now to that she was bold and almost fearless. And likely to throw a small tantrum if they kept her cooped up all day.

She’d adapted well, all things considered.

“Just two more left,” he told the prince, getting maybe two seconds of the young man’s attention before he was back to pacing.

Ah well, Jee supposed he shouldn’t be surprised.

Chapter Text

There was a yelp from Yan as Toph tossed a bunch of rocks in the air, catching them a handspan from the deck. Which was stupid, he’d been watching her move rocks for the last hour.

Just because one had dropped right in front of his face didn’t mean he needed to get fussy about it.

Zuko actually snorted at the sound, although he tried to cover it with a cough, and Uncle shook his head. Toph couldn’t quite make out what passed between them, but it made Zuko get stiff.

Which was a bummer. He’d taken most of the hour to get relaxed watching Toph. And Zuko was way easier to deal with when he wasn’t stomping around like a miniature mountain, snapping and cracking at people who were in his way.

Focusing on her bending again, Toph pulled all the rocks back in towards her, sorting the pieces into their appropriate piles until she could put the boulders more or less back together again.

She was getting really good at it actually. It was kinda cool.

“You’re finished?” Zuko asked.

Nodding, Toph said, “I’ll get these back upstairs and then get cleaned up.”

She’d been working with Chihiro and Lei this morning, so she’d already been sweaty and sooty when she’d started her practice, but it was definitely worse now. While he wasn’t fussy about a lot of things, Zuko did apparently have high standards as far as being clean went.

Which, well, small ship, small quarters. She couldn’t exactly blame him. And he didn’t spend much time below deck, so he probably wasn’t as used to it.

“Could we do something first?” Zuko asked. “If you’re not too tired.”

He said it carefully enough Toph tried not to be offended. The question was fair.She wasn’t consistent with her bending or her practice, didn’t want people to know how much endurance she had, or what her favorite forms were. And she was still adapting to practicing on a moving ship.

“Yeah, sure. You need these out of the way?”

“Please.”

The twitches across the deck said people still weren’t used to him using that word and Toph avoided thinking about that. She didn’t need to know why Zuko was so carefully polite with her.

Not wanting a sigh and hyper formal apology mixed with scolding from Jee, Toph made sure not to roll the stones across the deck, but set them down gently so she wouldn’t scratch or dent anything.

She didn’t make mistakes twice.

While Toph was making space, Mao had joined Zuko and was standing a careful distance between him and Toph.

Odd.

“You said you’d never learned combat forms,” Zuko started, and Toph knew exactly where this was going. “Right?”

“Yeah.”

“I—We thought you should learn basic techniques. For close combat. Sergeant Mao will be teaching you,” he added in a rush. Which maybe made Uncle chuckle, Toph thought, but he was a bit far away for her to be sure.

It might have been nicer for Mao if they’d started on a day when Toph hadn’t been hauling coal. But Zuko had been jittery the last few days, probably working up to this.

There was no resisting the temptation to tease him, so Toph let Zuko sweat a bit, not saying anything in response, arms crossed and toes tapping against the deck. When he seemed half a breath away from fight or flight, she said, “Okay. What are we doing first?”

“First,” Mao said, “is we’re seeing what you may actually know. Princess,” she added, almost as an afterthought.

Toph grimaced, but didn’t say anything. Zuko was still hovering beside them.

“Have you ever tried this tea?” Toph asked, nudging the cup across the table in Zuko’s direction. “How do you know you don’t like it?”

“I’m not a tea person,” he protested, leaning back like it was a small animal ready to bite him. “It’s hot water that tastes like leaves.”

“You have no class,” Toph sniffed, snatching the cup back and sipping it, listening to Zuko splutter and feeling Uncle’s silent laughter.

The rise and fall of the ship was making her queasy and Toph maybe regretted insisting that she should go below deck today. They’d told her clouds didn’t have to mean rain, and she’d be as safe below as above, but she hadn’t thought through how different it would feel to be closer to the water line.

Though honestly, there wasn’t anywhere on the ship that she liked when the sea got rough.

“It’s a fall and winter thing,” Lei said, as if that would make Toph feel better. “You’ll get used to it.”

“I hope not,” Toph grumbled.

He didn’t answer, and she wasn’t sure if he’d heard or not.

Ducking didn’t come naturally to Toph, but she was starting to get the hang of it.

Almost.

“You’d think this would be easy,” Mao said, helping Toph up from the deck. “Your forms are naturally lower than ours.”

“Not by that much,” Toph protested. “And only some of them. You’ve got a bunch where you prep for a kick or a jump that I’d never bother with.”

No point in taking her feet off the ground if she didn’t have to.

Moving back into position, Mao paused before raising her arms into a guard. “True enough. But we need you to be more mobile. You can’t really guard with rocks.”

“Not on a ship,” Toph shot back, shifting into place and testing her balance. “I’ve done just fine on land.”

Her voice was quiet as Mao said, “You don’t live on land right now, Princess.”

It was as kind as it could be, but it was a rebuke. One that sat uncomfortably, making Toph unsure of her footing.

It wasn’t a feeling she liked. At all.

Rishi almost slammed the coal down on the table, hand shaking as he pointed at it. Zuko looked between Rishi, the coal, and Toph, and if Toph had to guess, Zuko was absolutely confused.

“It’s coal,” he said, waving vaguely at it.

Rishi made a bunch of squeaks and croaks before he managed, “She crushed it.”

Toph blew at her bangs, ready to defend herself. That made what she did sound bad. But Lei had been excited and Chihiro had almost cried, and okay maybe that wasn’t a good thing?

How was Toph supposed to know? She did rocks, not fire.

“It looks like it’s in one piece,” Zuko offered, still confused. “Or is this only part of what she worked with?”

Lei’s hand came down on Rishi’s shoulder and the man pulled himself together enough to almost stand at attention. “Your highness, she compressed it. In…minutes.” When that didn’t get any response he added, “She changed the grade.”

There were several sharp breaths and Zuko asked, “Higher or lower?”

“Higher,” Rishi said, his hands clasped behind his back almost not trembling anymore. “Sir, we tested some pieces…for a larger vessel it might not make much of a difference, but…”

And Toph didn’t know fire, but she did know trade. She knew how expensive coal was, especially since the Fire Nation had targeted places where it was mined. And she had a much better idea of how hard Zuko had to work to make the funds he was provided keep the ship working and his people fed.

Zuko was handling the coal now. Mostly with his fingertips, like it was something delicate.

Or valuable.

“How?” he asked, almost voiceless.

Toph shrugged. “I noticed you had different types of coal. They…looked different. In my bending. I asked Lei why they were separated because I didn’t think it was something you could spot as easily on the outside,” although they’d apparently been different colors, “and he said they were different quality. But they were made of the same stuff. Or at least, that’s what my bending told me. So I tried to make them look the same.”

It was about as simple of an explanation as she could manage. She didn’t want to also tell them that some of the things she had noticed were new, that she could see and sense them because of living on the ship. Of working with the furnace.

Fire and earth touching each other changed earth, sometimes in obvious ways, sometimes more subtle. But earth was still earth. It had to be. Otherwise, Toph wouldn’t have been able to figure out how to see on the ship. She’d gotten familiar with coal, with metal, with hot metal, with ashes and smoke.

So she’d poked around a bit.

Most of the conversation that followed didn’t require her input. Zuko asked how much of the coal she thought she could compress, which was all of it if she really put her mind to it. Probably wouldn’t take very long either.

But there was discussion on how this would change the burn rates, how much coal they would have and if the compression and higher heat output would compensate for physically less coal.

“It will be a risk,” Uncle said, stroking his beard, “but I would go forward with these tests. We’re close enough to several ports that we can stop and restock if we need to. And if this works…”

Higher coal grades had hugely different costs, Toph knew. And maybe even burned cleaner, Rishi was saying. Which Toph was all for. She still didn’t mind getting dirty, at least as far as actual dirt was concerned. Manning the boilers was messy, even by her standards.

Not that she’d complain. She was pretty sure Zuko was just waiting for an excuse to make her stop.

Although, with this…

“Would you be willing,” he asked, shoulders drawn so tightly Toph was pretty sure they would snap if she poked them, “to make these adjustments?”

“Sure,” she answered, flicking a finger to toss the coal up and catching it above her hand. “Is this as high of quality as you want? I can try and do better if it would help.”

Rishi actually whimpered as Zuko said, “Let’s see how the experiments go. But probably, yes.”

The experiments went fine. Toph spent most of her time the next several days half buried in coal, crushing it in controlled, careful increments, trying to ignore the back and forth rocking of the ship.

Chapter Text

Collapsing onto her bed from standing wasn’t smart, but while Toph knew the sound must have echoed in the rooms around her, she didn’t regret faceplanting into the mattress.

Even when Zuko showed up a couple minutes later, wound as tight as she’d seen him in weeks until he spotted her. Well, and she’d made some sort of rude gesture at him. It seemed like the fastest way to let him know she was fine and he wasn’t needed.

But instead of leaving like any sane person would have, Zuko came over and settled next to her bed, legs crossed and bracing his arms on them. He didn’t say anything, and while Toph couldn’t think of a single reason he would be wasting time just staring at her, at least he was smart enough to not expect her to talk.

Was he checking if she was dead? That had to be a more hands on sort of thing. And besides, she’d made that effort to prove she was fine.

“I know you’re really good at bending,” he eventually began, and Toph growled into her mattress. “But if this is too much, you don’t have to do it.”

It took her a moment, but she managed to get her hand up in an even ruder gesture that she’d learned from Huang. Maybe he’d actually recognize this one.

He did.

There was a recoil, and a sort of hunch to him as he said, “I’m not saying you can’t, or you shouldn’t.” He unfolded a bit to add, “You just don’t seem like you’re enjoying it anymore.”

Which was a weird observation for him to have made. Toph had made sure she was obviously neutral about all this coal moving and converting stuff. It had been exciting at first and she hadn’t wanted them to catch on to exactly how amazing she found her own skills. A little bravado went a long way, she’d found.

She also hadn’t wanted anyone to notice when she did get bored or tired. She’d known it would happen eventually. The work wasn’t exciting, even if it made her feel useful.

But between her new jobs and her training with Mao, Toph wasn’t doing as much of her own bending as she’d meant to do. She’d tried to push through today, getting the grates cleaned and running through some of her basic forms and training with Mao.

And she’d gotten what she should have expected from it. Maybe if she hadn’t spent so much time converting the coal she wouldn’t have already been tired. But…

Toph made the effort to unearth her face from the mattress, since this had evolved into an actual conversation, whether she wanted it to or not. “It’s fine. I wasn’t expecting it to be a party or anything. That wasn’t why I offered to do it.” And then, because sometimes she couldn’t leave well enough alone, “You do stuff you hate all the time.”

She was pretty sure she’d surprised him. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“It’s kinda obvious,” Toph said. “Keeping the accounts and going to music nights and,” sharing a room with her, if his continued efforts in being awake until after she’d drifted off and up before her were a clue, but she wouldn’t say that, “bending. You really don’t seem to like bending.”

It had been hard to tell at first, when he’d been stiff every minute of every day. And because she hadn’t been able to see as well and she hadn’t figured out all of the different “yelling at Uncle” tones that Zuko had, some of which were more annoyed or embarrassed than angry.

But his bending practice hadn’t ever improved. His bending looked smoother some days than others. But getting critiques from Uncle or Jee, which he got plenty of, always put him in a foul mood.

There was no love in his bending.

Before she had time to examine the weirdness of that thought, Zuko said, “I don’t hate bending.”

But he didn’t contradict her other items. And he was…well, he wasn’t lying exactly about the bending. But he wasn’t being honest with himself.

“When was the last time you did any kind of bending for fun?” Toph asked him, curious what his answer would be.

“Never,” as it turned out. And then, “Well, not…Not since before Mom—“

Toph both desperately did and did not want him to finish that sentence. But that meant she had to say something, and she had nothing good. “Sounds like a long time ago.”

The noise Zuko made was technically a laugh. Mostly in that it didn’t quite qualify as something else. “Yeah. It was.”

“What would you do,” Toph asked, hoping to distract him, “if you were bending for fun now?”

When he wanted to, Zuko could be very still, and silent. Patient, almost like a very, very warm earthbender. She could tell he was thinking, and was a little sad that it was taking him this long.

Toph had a list of things she planned to do the moment she hit land again. All of them for fun.

“I guess,” he said, “I would juggle?”

Toph snorted. “Wow, you sound really excited about that.”

“I don’t know!” Zuko rocked back a bit. “Firebending isn’t for fun. It’s…dangerous.” His left hand twitched up and then back down. “No one should play with fire.”

Even accepting that Zuko should know his element better than her, Toph was skeptical. But she decided not to argue about it this time. “Then maybe you should play with me in the dirt,” she said, poking at his knee and making him jerk. “You’re way too serious, Sparky. I think you’re gonna explode someday.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice,” he grumbled, reaching up to rub his forehead.

Toph poked him again. “No,” she said. “It wouldn’t.”

And was a little embarrassed to realize she meant that.

Toph did not play pai sho. It required more touching things than was fun for the kind of activity it was, and even if she’d been interested she knew a tile shark when she saw one.

Or at least, she did now. Because everyone on the ship complained about General Iroh’s mythical pai sho skills.

She still didn’t get what was so impressive or annoying about his lotus gambit, but Toph figured she was happier that way.

If Huang and Yan were any kind of example, she was a lot happier that way.

That did mean that Toph was excluded from one of Uncle’s favorite on board activities. Instead he shared tea with her, and they recited poetry to each other sometimes because Uncle actually knew some good ones and Toph liked showing off the long ones she’d memorized.

But usually, if they were left alone together for too long, Toph found herself asking Uncle the questions she couldn’t bring herself to ask anyone else. Zuko because he was, well, Zuko, and the rest of the crew because, well, Zuko.

“So where are we going?” was today’s first one, because she knew Zuko had mumbled something in her general direction at one point and she wasn’t going to admit she pretty much hadn’t been listening.

“Northwest,” had been Uncle’s initial answer, in his usual teasing, vague way. But Toph wasn’t Zuko, she didn’t so much as twitch, so it wasn’t long before he added, “To the Western Air Temple, specifically. We should get there around the equinox.”

“What, why?”

There was one of those careful silences before Uncle said, “Prince Zuko prefers it to the other temples for his yearly visits.”

Which was a whole lot of nothing, unless you’d been carefully studying Uncle Speak and Zuko Behavior and then it was enough to make you wince.

On the inside. Toph was pretty careful about what she did in front of Uncle.

“He’s been to all of them?” she asked, trying to figure out what part of this bothered her the most.

“Several times,” Uncle answered. “But most frequently to the Western. They are each quite lovely, even now. I think you will enjoy our visit.”

There was something mischievous in his tone, but Toph didn’t think it was mean spirited. “Does he usually stay for very long?”

“No, only for the equinox itself. We may be a bit late this year, depending on the weather, but even so I doubt we will stay longer than a day. Unless you request we do.”

That definitely had weight to it, but Toph only shrugged. “I like being on land, but I’d hate to mess up his schedule too much. I’m still not really sure what it’s for.”

“Supplies mostly,” Uncle was unusually straightforward. “We have no social obligations to meet and no assignments to fill, other than Zuko’s hunt for the Avatar. Making sure that we aren’t strained to our limits makes it easier to find bargains, as you may have noticed.”

“Oh I did.”

“Then you can understand how important your marriage is.” Toph did twitch this time, and she knew Uncle hadn’t missed it. “My brother’s efforts to continue our nation’s expansion may have their disadvantages,” which was the closest he’d ever come to saying it was cracking stupid. “But for those who serve, it is vitally important that they have access to food and medical supplies. And, surrounded by enemies as they are, it can be very difficult for them.”

“My father will be moving war supplies for the Fire Nation because the Fire Lord blackmailed him into this marriage. So now he’s a traitor and could be killed by his own people.”

She couldn’t get over how stupid it was. What could possibly have motivated him? There wasn’t any evidence the war would be ending soon, certainly not in anyone’s favor. Having equitable supply lines to both sides, subtle and careful, would have been way more profitable.

“He must love you very dearly,” Uncle said, almost as if he were reading her thoughts, “to take such a risk.”

“Shows what he knows,” Toph grumbled, taking a sip of tea to stop herself from rambling too much. “I would have been safer at home.”

“You don’t feel safe here?” Uncle asked, far too calmly.

Toph considered lying, then realized she didn’t need to. “It isn’t what I wanted. But I haven’t felt unsafe.”

Most of the time. And she’d never been as worried as Zuko, which was pretty telling.

It was all an illusion though. She didn’t spend a lot of time thinking about it because she wasn’t crazy. What would happen would happen, and this time no one would catch her by surprise and haul her off anywhere she didn’t want to go. Worrying constantly wasn’t going to prevent people from having bad intentions. Or acting on them.

But even Zuko had mellowed some these past weeks, as Toph had trained, as he’d seen more of her bending.

Maybe he was starting to understand that Toph could take care of herself.

There were footsteps slowing in the hallway, and then there was a polite, “General,” from Jee.

“Yes, Captain?”

“We’re coming up on some Navy ships. General direction means they could be heading for Pohuai, but we’re waiting for identification.”

“I assume Prince Zuko has been informed,” Uncle said, sitting stiffly even if his voice was calm.

“He’s asked that you and the princess stay here,” Jee confirmed. “He’ll be down to join you shortly.”

That surprised Uncle. “Will he? Very well then.”

Toph coughed slightly, raising her brows when she knew Uncle was looking at her. It took him a moment to say, “Unless you had different plans, Princess?”

The title was definitely an insult. Or at least a jab. But it mostly missed the mark. The whole point had been to get him to acknowledge her, and Toph said, “No, that’s fine. We can wait here for Zuko.”

As snottily as possible. Because she wasn’t above that.

Luckily it worked, and both men relaxed slightly, Uncle chuckling. “As you command, Princess.”

And maybe Uncle could be a bit snotty too.

Chapter Text

It was a while before Zuko joined them.

“Everything quiet here?” he asked as he sat, crossing his legs and leaning on the table. He was sitting between her and Uncle, but Toph wasn’t entirely surprised to find him a little closer to her.

“Nah, we were having a party,” Toph tossed back, settling an elbow on the table and propping her chin. “You just missed it.”

There was a moment that Toph felt him hesitating before he leaned in a bit more and said, “Well that’s too bad. Maybe I should get here faster next time.”

“Maybe you should,” she said, aware that something was suddenly going on, but not really sure what. Hoping to stop it—no point if she was feeling left out—Toph said, “So do we know who the other ships are?”

That killed…whatever it was. Zuko leaned back, almost like he was retreating, but answered, “Yes. They’re supply ships, heading for the mainland. We won’t be in range for long, but it’s a chance for the crew to try and send some messages. So we’ll be here for a little bit.”

It was on the tip of Toph’s tongue to ask if Zuko was sending any messages, but before she made that error her brain reminded her there probably wasn’t anyone for him to talk to. At least, no one he’d want her asking about.

“Okay,” she said. And then, because she didn’t want to head into an inevitable awkward silence, “Uncle says we’re going to the Western Air Temple.”

“Yes,” Zuko said. “Did you not believe me?”

Oh, he had told her. Whoops. “I forgot,” she offered. “And you don’t really tell good lies.”

Which was weird. Uncle could be smooth and Toph got the impression it was a skill Zuko would have needed back in the Capital.

But then, this was Zuko. It wasn’t super surprising he was…not suited to that sort of society.

For a moment it seemed like Zuko was going to argue with her. While she couldn’t make out his exact expression there was a subtle twitching that seemed like his “I’ve been caught” response. Then he relaxed.

“I don’t want to lie to you.” He turned away from her and Uncle. “I don’t want to lie to anyone.”

“It’s hard,” Toph agreed. “Once you start, you’re either stuck with the lie, or the consequences when people find out. And both suck.”

She’d been the opposite of herself around her parents for so long. When they’d finally started to catch on, to see what she really was, it had been an ugly fallout.

Even before all of this.

“Sometimes,” Zuko said, his words painfully slow, “you don’t have a choice.”

It was tempting to disagree, but Toph knew what he meant. It wasn’t that there was no choice, it was that sometimes one of your choices wasn’t really an option. Toph could have run away from home any time. In theory.

But she hadn’t. Because leaving had always felt…permanent. In a way she couldn’t explain. And she didn’t want to lose her family. She just wanted them to accept her.

Joke was on her. Now she was here.

The silence had stretched for too long, and Uncle stepped in saying, “There is, of course, a difference between secrets and lies.”

“Sometimes,” Toph and Zuko said at the same time, both of them freezing.

She tried to fight a grin, but Toph didn’t think she’d quite succeeded when she added, “That’s mostly an excuse people use when they’re lying to someone when they know they shouldn’t be.”

“Or when they don’t want to be lying,” Zuko said, “but they can’t stop.”

That invited another long silence.

Sergeant Mao was watching the entrance to the tower, which made Jee more relieved than he wanted to admit. He could trust the others—most of the others—to stand guard, but he knew she took the job more seriously than anyone else.

Not a surprise, but still. In moments like these, it was easier to have someone he could reliably fall back on.

The prince was showing a terrifying amount of trust. Jee didn’t know what they would do if anything went wrong, much less if they failed.

“We’re clear,” Seaman Huang said, watching the other ship pull away. “We’ve got some reports for the prince.”

Jee accepted them, asking, “Anything for the rest of us?”

“No, they weren’t expecting to meet us. There may be messages at Pohuai, and they’ll pass along that we were in the area.”

“Alright, second group formations then, let’s clear the ship.”

They were halfway through the search when the general showed up on deck, smiling as he approached.

“Please,” Jee begged, “tell me he knows you’re up here.”

“Oh, he does,” the general said. “He isn’t entirely happy about it, but I thought my presence was superfluous and I’m confident all is well.”

“We’ve thought that before,” Jee found himself muttering, even knowing that he agreed.

General Iroh frowned. “There is no need to invite misfortune, Captain. Mistrust of our allies is as likely to make them enemies as turning a knife on them.”

“With all due respect,” Jee struggled to keep an even tone, “it’s not your neck on the line if we fail, sir. And we don’t want to fail.”

He kept off, “Again.” But it was pretty clear all the same.

“I don’t think,” the general said, stroking his beard, “we are nearly as likely to fail as we have in the past.” And interesting that he did include himself in that failure, Jee let himself notice. “We’ve learned…hard lessons. But we are more cautious for them, and more prepared. And,” there was a twinkle in his eyes now, “I do not think anyone would be prepared to face our princess, should they make the mistake of wishing her harm.”

That caught Jee’s attention. “She’s still learning the basics of self-defense,” he pointed out. “And on the ship…”

It was hard to phrase what he was thinking. It had been a while, a very long time really, since he and the general had been at the Wall, had been around Earth Army benders. Since every stretch of dirt and rock had been a threat, rather than a promise. So it was also hard to be sure, absolutely certain, that what Jee was seeing from the princess was as…profound as it seemed.

But if the general thought she was that dangerous…

“I would certainly prefer if we could offer her more of her element to bend,” the general said, “if it became necessary for her to defend herself. But she is very hard to surprise, very attuned to her surroundings. And very creative,” the general pointed out. “Anyone coming after her, expecting a young, blind woman, untrained in even basic self-defense…”

She could destroy them, Jee thought. It would be…incredibly satisfying to watch.

But, “Princess Ina wasn’t defenseless,” he noted softly, eyes traveling around the deck to make sure they were still alone. “And Princess Lian knew the risks.”

“Princess Ina…” the general hadn’t pulled out that look in years, Jee thought. That particular mix of disdain and anger. “She was…certainly unprepared. If not defenseless. Princess Lian—“

She’d been cold, Jee remembered. Cold and proper and bored so much of the time. Polite. Occasionally affectionate to her brother, who had come with her for her protection. And she’d taken their precautions seriously.

Most of the time.

But she’d resented the prince’s paranoia, pushed back against it after months of being safe, of being distant.

He still remembered the look on Prince Zuko’s face when they’d found her. Shame and guilt were cheap words for what Jee had seen in those eyes.

Jee had never loved the prince, never trusted him like the general. But Jee had come to respect the boy who had tried to shoulder the burden of malice that had followed him out to sea. Who had squared his shoulders and accepted the reality that he would be married, again, while still in exile. Knowing full well his success was unwanted.

They would not fail him again.

“Princess Lian didn’t think the risks were serious,” Jee made himself say, meeting the general’s eyes. “Princess Toph has barely been with us half as long. Even if she can defend herself, we’re here so she won’t need to do that.”

And this time—this time—they wouldn’t fail.

“Captain,” Private Yan bowed when he got close enough, “below deck is all clear.”

“I’ll inform the prince,” General Iroh said, turning to head back inside.

“I thought your presence was superfluous,” Jee found himself saying before he could think better of it.

“Oh it was,” the general smiled. “But the princess will like to know it’s safe to move. And my nephew may need to be rescued at this point.”

Probably true, Jee had to admit. Prince Zuko had been…attentive to his previous wife. But he certainly hadn’t been flustered by her.

At least, not that the crew had noticed.

That, Jee knew, was a significant improvement.

Chapter Text

They were on actual land again, which was a plus. Enough land Toph could dig herself a hole and get lost if she wanted to.

The bad news was it was still an island, and there was no way Zuko would leave until they found her if she did run. And if it was an island with mostly only an old Air Temple, there probably weren’t any people around who could help her.

Which was a bummer.

“We’ll probably be back after sunset, so make sure there’s plenty of light for us to follow. And we won’t be back tonight if we can’t get down the cliffs before we lose daylight,” Zuko was telling Jee. 

And boy he did not sound thrilled about staying out overnight. Which, given he couldn’t catch people approaching as easily, didn’t surprise Toph. Although she would much rather be on land if anyone found them and tried to get them. She might even be able to drop them in a hole before Zuko or anyone else noticed.

Wouldn’t that be a fun surprise?

“We’ll make sure everything is ready for you,” Jee promised. He seemed to be hesitating. “Is the princess going up with you?”

“We’ll see,” was Zuko’s stiff reply. That felt like a no, but a very unhappy one.

Toph realized why when they moved inland, reaching the base of the sheer walls that climbed up in front of them. If she really stretched her senses, she could tell there was something up there, hazy in detail, but huge and probably manmade.

There were no stairs. No winding paths. Just a tickle of what she had to assume were the ends of ropes brushing the ground.

Nope. Nope nope nope.

This did explain why no one had volunteered to come with them, including Uncle. He was here, but it was obviously under duress.

No wonder they’d had to get up so early.

“I am not,” Toph said, tugging one of the ropes, “climbing this.”

It wasn’t even against the sheer wall.

“I didn’t expect you to,” Zuko sighed. “We can escort you back to the ship.”

Which he did not want to do. It hadn’t been easy going getting them here, they would lose more time. Toph could bend them a direct path back, now that she knew where they were going, so it wouldn’t be as much time.

She could tell Zuko had let her come without explaining because he’d thought she’d fight him, and she was not having it.

Besides, if she went back to the ship they would probably want her on the ship because it would be safer that way. And no way Toph was letting that happen.

“Or,” Toph said, waving at the wall, “you could ask for my help.”

Uncle was definitely hiding snickers behind his hand. She seemed to have confused Zuko, as well as Mao and Shun.

“I didn’t think,” Zuko said, “that you knew much about climbing.”

“That,” Toph huffed, “is obvious. I do, however, know a mountain’s worth about earthbending. You know, moving rocks.”

Uncle was almost choking now and Zuko turned to glare at him for a moment before he said, “We’re not moving rocks, we’re moving people. And I don’t think we have time for you to build any sort of path to the top.”

“Not a permanent one,” Toph conceded. “I’d need to take that pretty slow, especially near the base.” There was a lot of pressure that could suddenly shift if she wasn’t paying attention, and she didn’t want to bury them. “But we don’t need that, right? We’re just going up for the day?”

“Yes,” Zuko said, still confused.

“And we’re heading straight up?” Toph checked, pointing directly above her head.

“Not quiet,” Zuko said. “There’s a lip at the top, a balcony—“

“Yeah, yeah,” Toph waved her hand. “That’s fine. C’mere.”

When Zuko didn’t respond she yanked the earth under his feet, making him yelp and jerk as he got pulled forward, almost right in her face. Close enough she could grab him by the collar and drag him closer to the wall, gesturing for everyone else to follow them too.

“I can walk,” Zuko protested, trying to remove her hand as he followed her.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Toph said, a little surprised when she felt something that might have been the hint of a smile.

He didn’t let go of her hand until she’d let go of his shirt.

“Alright, bunch up,” she said, waving Mao and Shun closer. “I don’t want any of you falling off.”

Apparently there was only so close they were willing to get to Uncle and Zuko, but Toph could make this work. It was just easier with a smaller piece.

Hands slicing down, a kick to bring the piece up, make sure it was big enough before they got too high, yup looked like Shun wobbled but he had space to catch his balance, and then Toph shoved.

It took her a few rotations to find the right speed, with the least wobbling from everyone else. Then she hit her stride and the ascent became smooth and even. Smooth enough she could feel Zuko, still standing just in front of her, reaching out and holding his fingers just a breath away from the wall as it slid past.

“Incredible,” he breathed, and Toph really hoped she wasn’t blushing. This wasn’t that big a deal. Other benders did this kind of thing all the time. Sure, maybe not up a cliff face and not all by themselves. But he didn’t need to be so surprised by it.

The further up they went, the clearer their destination got, and wow. “Are they really upside down?” Toph checked.

“Yeah,” Zuko answered. “It’s…disconcerting. When you first see it.”

It was really cool, is what it was. She had to concentrate on their platform, so she couldn’t quite tell yet, but…

She didn’t even slow as they approached the floor, and she felt Shun shift. Hands and arms still rolling them up, Toph used her legs to make a hole for them, sliding their platform neatly into it, sealing everything so it wouldn’t fall when she let go.

Breathing a little heavier but not too bad, Toph took a moment to really look around.

Oh man, this was insane.

Zuko may have made some sort of protest as she took off, wandering the floor and heading for the walls, pressing her palms against them and listening with her whole body. She had to keep moving as he tried to follow her. He was too noisy and distracting with all this breathing and mouth moving. She was trying to focus…

They weren’t in the main body of the Temple. There were ledges, stretching out on either side, with giant statues of what Toph assumed were airbenders. Like, stupidly huge statues. As tall as some of the buildings hanging above them.

Toph had never seen anything like it in her life.

“Are we going to go inside?” she asked, stepping back from the walls and almost bouncing with excitement. “There’s like, six ways up the cliff but I think I found a slide. Did they use slides instead of stairs?”

“I don’t think so,” Uncle answered when Zuko said nothing. “It’s more likely they are tunnels that formed as the building deteriorated.”

“Yeah, but that’s not what this is,” Toph said, pointing before she realized they would only see a wall. “It’s definitely sculpted. And it’s big enough for a person.” Probably more than one, honestly.

“Maybe they sent supplies down them,” Uncle offered. “We haven’t explored the entire Temple in any of our visits. There’s much we still don’t know.”

Well that sounded boring. Maybe she could get in one and have a closer look. She could probably tell if carts or crates had made grooves.

“Normally we head to the center of the Temple,” Zuko had found his voice. “Over that way.”

He pointed and Toph stretched her earthsense, noticing one building that seemed to be larger than the others. “Want me to get us up there too?” There wasn’t a direct path, but this high up she could probably tunnel more safely.

“No,” Zuko said. “We’ll walk.”

With a full day or more of idle time for the ship, it was time for the boiler to be cleaned out and the waste to be offloaded.

It would have been easier, Chihiro knew, with the princess helping. But Lei, Rishi and Chihiro had this process down almost to an art now, and they could survive one day without some earthbending.

Although Lei was coughing again. But he didn’t say anything about it. As usual.

“Private Yan found a dump site not far off,” the Captain was telling Rishi. “Let us know if you need more hands.”

He always offered, and Chihiro always wished Rishi would say yes. Just to make Huang stop smirking in that self-important way.

But Rishi never did. “No need. We’ve got it covered. You focus on the other bits, we’ll handle this.”

There were other chores that needed to be done. But it would have made Chihiro happy to see everyone else covered in soot for once.

Even the princess wasn’t too good to get her hands dirty. What excuse did they have?

“Don’t,” Lei said, nudging Chihiro as he walked by. “It isn’t worth it.”

“I didn’t say anything,” she growled at him.

He just raised a brow at her and went back to work, pausing to cough from time to time.

“What’s that?” Yan demanded, pointing to the cliff where a puff of dirt was trailing up, moving fast.

It was the captain who had the spyglass, and he was the one who told them, “Looks like the princess is taking them up.”

That would have been nice to know. Chihiro might have volunteered—well, tried to volunteer—if she’d known they’d just be flying up the wall.

Yan was swearing under his breath, and Chihiro wasn’t entirely sure it was because he was impressed.

Chapter Text

It was strange, being the only one excited as they went along. Uncle seemed curious about what Toph might be seeing, but he didn’t ask any questions as Zuko led them up and in. Mao and Shun were keeping an eye out for whatever might attack them in an abandoned temple.

Which Toph could have told them was nothing. Some animals and bugs, but nothing bigger. Nothing dangerous.

There was a lot of wind though.

So Toph made sure to stay close to the wall as they wound their way up the cliff and then towards the upside-down buildings. She could see now that they looked pretty normal on the inside. So it wasn’t a huge surprise when Mao and Shun, and even Uncle and Zuko, relaxed when they couldn’t see the flip anymore.

But it only made Toph giggle.

Zuko jerked, looking back with a sharp, “What?”

“We’re walking on the ceiling,” she said, unable to help her smile. “And you aren’t even earthbenders.”

“Earthbenders walk on ceilings?” Shun asked, gulping, glancing at Zuko.

“Not often,” Toph admitted, before Zuko could say something sharp again. “It can be tricky to keep your feet attached, and you get a headache if you do it for too long. But yeah, if they try they can.”

She could, she didn’t say. She could right now if she wanted, walk up the walls to the floor and wave at all of them lurking on the ceiling.

She wanted to giggle again, but this time she was able to keep it in.

It was almost more dizzying to be inside than out, Toph realized as they continued. Even the earthsensing she’d done in the badgermoles tunnels had been oriented towards the surface. Being in the Temple was like being trapped on a plane between two pieces of sky. Only the hazy sensation of the cliffs behind the buildings gave a real sense of security.

She’d liked the platform with the statues better, Toph decided.

But that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to make good use of her time here. If she didn’t focus too much on their shape, Toph could pay attention to the intricate detail that had gone into building this place. It was luxurious and clever.

And frankly terrifying.

She paused in one room to lay her hands flat against the wall again, pressing her fingers just into the surface and resting her forehead on the wall while she tapped a toe over and over, focusing on the tiniest shifts of the vibrations.

“Wow,” she whispered when she was finished, not quite able yet to pull back. She might have been trembling.

“Is something wrong?” Mao asked, and Toph made herself stand straight.

“No. This place is just…unbelievable. Most of it wasn’t even made by earthbenders.”

There was a long silence before Zuko asked, “You can see that?”

“More on the inside,” Toph admitted. “The marks that show it was carved get smoothed out by weather, or by people if they touch stuff enough. But a lot of this looks like it was done the long way. It probably took lifetimes.”

And a lot of them.

The hush that fell over the group made Toph squirm slightly, but she waited it out. She could see they were all looking around again, focusing more on where they were right now than where they were going. Zuko even reached out to touch one of the columns next to him, fingers first, then palm pressed against the stone, thumb stroking gently around the curve.

Reverence. That was why Toph had shivered watching him. Because of his focus and reverence.

That had to be it.

Or maybe it was the wind, slipping through the windows and cracks, whistling and whispering and tickling in gentle puffs when it reached her.

“I would have thought they’d have used earthbenders,” Zuko murmured, brining Toph out of her pondering. “We’re pretty close to the continent. It wouldn’t have been hard to find some.”

“They did bring some,” Toph said. “No way the airbenders would have known where it was safe to dig all the tunnels.”

And they were definitely slides. Their placement was too convenient and there was no evidence of carts or crates sliding down them. Maybe some of them could be called chutes. There were a few that dropped pretty steeply away from the flat, open area they had passed earlier that had huge basins with odd metal rails on them. Those tunnels just opened onto a drop off the cliff.

Toph guessed they disposed of something and wondered if they would have time for her to try and figure out what when they got back down.

“And some of these statues look to be the work of northern Earth Kingdom artists,” Uncle added. “Likely there were few nuns who took up the art, or monks.”

“Probably,” Zuko agreed, stepping away from the column, his fingers lingering until he had to stretch to reach. “Although some of the other art looks like it was made here.”

“Do you think they have an inventory?” Toph asked. “Or like, records?”

“None that we’ve found,” Uncle said, shaking his head.

“Did you check the library?” Toph demanded, pointing almost straight down.

Zuko said, “There’s a library?”

Oh, yup. That was a room with no openings to it, wasn’t it? Better to brazen this out than back down, Toph put her hands on her hips. “Yeah.”

“Can you—would you be willing to get us there?” Zuko asked.

Grinning in a way that made Shun take a step back, Toph said, “Sure. But we’re taking the slide.”

Uncle sighed.

There weren’t many occasions where Jee could sit back and just relax. He didn’t even have long today. They had chores to see to while they were anchored, things that were easier to do while the prince was gone. But the assignments had been given, and last he’d checked everyone was on task.

He wondered, passingly, if the prince’s party would be returning early, given how quickly the princess had taken them up the mountain.

Hopefully not. The quiet was…refreshing.

Toph dusted herself off, listening to Zuko’s grumbles with a bit of relief.

He’d been weird the whole time they’d been here. Annoying as his complaints could be, it was almost worth it to hear him acting like himself again.

“See,” she said to Uncle as he hoisted himself back onto his feet. “I told you it was a slide.”

“We have certainly used it as one,” he said. Which wasn’t much of a concession.

There was a muffled yelp from Shun as he came down the tunnel last, skidding to a stop on his back. Mao shook her head and went over to help him up.

“It is a slide,” Toph grumbled.

“Most likely,” Zuko said, not quite loud enough for Uncle to hear. “He just likes to believe that airbenders were too spiritual to have fun.”

“Ugh.”

She could almost hear amusement in his voice when he said, “Exactly.”

“So are you too spiritual to have fun?” Toph asked, wondering how he would respond. “Or do you have some other ailment?”

There was a moment where he didn’t just still, he almost went cold to her senses. Then he said, “I guess I’m just too busy for it.”

They should fix that. She thought Uncle might be working on it, but he seemed so offset from Zuko it was like a seam where both sides pressed in opposite directions, grinding and grating against the other, wearing down, one subsuming, the other rising. And it wasn’t Zuko going up.

The crew didn’t help. But they couldn’t really be expected to. They had to follow orders, and Zuko kept them at a distance. For his safety or theirs Toph wasn’t sure anymore.

But that really only left her. And Toph wasn’t sure she was the right person to take responsibility for that.

She didn’t plan on staying here.

“So what are we looking for?” she asked, pushing that aside for another time. “In all of…this?”

Her gesture included the rows of shelves, some full to bursting, others tilted and empty, their contents spilling across the floor beneath them. Toph could feel mostly scrolls, but it looked like there were maybe tablets stuck in various places around the room. More statues against certain walls and in some corners.

And a lingering taste of dust and stale air every time she breathed. Not the most fun, but after the furnace hardly worth noting.

“I’m not sure,” Zuko admitted, walking to the nearest shelf and starting to examine it with his hands. He picked up a couple of scrolls and started opening one as he said, “There’s a lot more here than I expected. The libraries at the other Temples were burned.”

There was something stilted about how he said the last part, but Toph wasn’t interested in trying to figure it out. She pressed her hands to the walls instead, trying to see if she could feel a pattern to the breaks in the stone, where they had first come from.

Most of the room was intact. The wall with the doorway was a mound of crumbled stone, rolling up like a hill from outside the room, cresting on top of the first rows of shelves which were more than half buried.

It was…neat.

Leaving Zuko to skim the scrolls he kept picking up, Toph made her way to the collapsed entry, mostly ignoring Mao following close behind her. Uncle had also started browsing through scrolls and Shun was hovering, stiff and anxious, near Zuko. Which was better than Toph having two shadows.

Especially once she started climbing the shelves.

“Princess,” Mao complained, looking back to everyone else, “that might not be—“

“It’s the fastest way up,” Toph said, shifting her feet and poking with her fingers, exploring with her bending as much as her hands and toes. “I wanna see if there’s scorch marks on the other side.”

Mao did not like that. “I don’t think—“

“Well I do,” Toph grunted, using her elbows to make small adjustments to the rubble, seeing how it affected the pile. “And I want answers.”

Like why this pile of rubble seemed to mostly be made of two columns from the room above, only stubs left on the ceiling, while the rest of their neighbors were still standing.

It took some careful and brilliant bending to not only move the debris but make a smooth path up to the next floor. Toph told Mao that there was no one up there, but she still insisted on going first, flame flickering over her fingers as she investigated the other room. Her begrudging, “All clear,” was barely finished when Toph hauled herself through the floor, not bothering to stand and instead immediately crawling around, sniffing and using her fingers to try and find that sense of fire-and-earth she had become familiar with.

“Is everything alright?” Uncle called up from below, and Toph let Mao answer, “Yes, General. We’re fine.”

When she reached the edge of the slope, where the ground became a crumbled mess, Toph stood, stretching her senses back up to the ceiling and the other columns.

“Did you find something?” This time it was Zuko’s voice, crackling with tension. But Toph still let Mao answer, “I’m not sure what the princess is looking for, sir.”

There were fire marks in the room. Mostly at chest and shoulder height, but a couple of fist sized spots that had Toph confused until she realized they must have been execution shots to victims on the ground.

Two people halfway back in the room, exactly in line with the pillars.

The opposite wall had looked outside, had had two windows, a hundred years ago.

Toph remembered the feeling of the wind tugging at her all the way up and through various parts of the building.

“It wasn’t an explosion,” Toph said, heading back to the hole and going down at a skip, stopping just in front of Zuko. She rubbed her fingers together, feeling mostly dust with only a hint of that burned earth. “There’s not enough scorch marks. I think two airbenders collapsed part of the floor to hide this on purpose.”

Mao had followed Toph back down and was waiting partway up the pile, probably not wanting to try and fill the limited space next to Toph and Zuko. “She’s right about the marks, at least from what I could see. There’s a lot of structural damage, but it doesn’t smell like blasting jelly, or like a dense battlefield.”

Toph wanted to ask what blasting jelly smelled like, but Zuko said, “So there may be something here they were trying to protect. Because it was objectively important or because they valued it that much.”

“And probably not on this side of the room,” Toph said, waving at the pile. “It was pretty controlled damage, but they aren’t earthbenders. I doubt anything under this is going to be worth much.”

“Right,” Zuko said, looking up again. “Can you close the hole?”

“I can,” Toph said, but instead of making him ask again, she stepped sideways so Mao could finish coming down and when her head was clear, Toph twisted her hand.

“Thank you,” Zuko said, and Toph was proud of how she didn’t point out it had been completely unnecessary.

Chapter Text

Toph had been reduced to bouncing a rock off the wall and she was not happy about it. She’d gotten looks from Shun and Mao and Uncle for the first few minutes, but they’d eventually gotten used to the noise and started ignoring her.

Zuko was waist deep in a pile of scrolls, sorting them. He hadn’t noticed at all.

“Nephew,” Uncle rarely pulled out that one in front of the crew, and Toph figured it was because Zuko had missed the last two attempts to get his attention.

“What?”

“As interesting as this discovery is, I believe we did come here for a purpose. I’m certain your wife can bring us back when we are finished.”

Toph was very proud of herself for not making a face at that title. Although, it was a lot easier now. It was a mostly empty word anyway.

“Right,” Zuko started extracting himself, looking around. “Are we going back up the way we came, or…”

He’d turned to her, so Toph said, “We’ve got options. I can try and dig through the mess at the front, but it will take some time for me to get everything moved so that I’m sure it’s stable. It’d probably be faster for me to punch through the walls, but I’ll need to know which way we’re going. The hall’s blocked by the collapse.”

Zuko looked back to the hole Toph had made at the bottom of the tunnel and asked, “Do you know where we are in relation to where we were before we came down? We’ll need to get back up a few levels, and more to the east.”

Since she hadn’t had anything better to do than stare at the building for the last ever, Toph was able to say, “We want this way,” and just start bending.

She didn’t actually punch out the walls. The building was mostly stable, but she wasn’t going to chance anything. And there was something…off about this place the longer they stayed here. There were places where Toph could just barely feel the wind pressing against the stone, like a ticklish touch on her senses.

And when they were in the more open halls, sometimes the wind almost sounded like whispering.

It wasn’t, obviously. But the quiet from everyone else didn’t help that illusion.

As it turned out, they were there for a memorial service.

Zuko took them to a large balcony, a floor above a massive open hall. They prepared a fire and offerings. Two trays, Toph noted, prepared very differently. She recognized the dishes on the first, and could guess at what was in and on them, even if she couldn’t smell it from where she was.

The second was set with plates and a bowl that had been tucked into a corner here on the balcony. Zuko had wiped them down before placing them, and was filling them, mumbling something under his breath. It had a rhythmic quality to it, like a chant or a song, but the wind was too strong for Toph to pick out the words.

When he finished, there was a lot of standing and waiting as the fire very, very slowly burned out. No one else said anything, so Toph kept quiet. But she was tempted to make herself a seat after a while.

She’d almost determined that the balcony was thick enough and she could do it quietly enough not to bother anyone when Zuko finally moved. He and Uncle cleaned everything up, moving in a quiet synchronization that said they’d done this…a lot.

Yearly, if Uncle wasn’t lying. And Toph knew he wasn’t.

No wonder no one wanted to come with them.

Chihiro paused for a moment when she spotted the flicker on the cliff face, glancing at the captain and seeing him visibly relax.

They’d been expecting it a lot sooner with how quickly the princess had taken everyone up.

“These won’t wash themselves,” Lei nudged her shoulder and Chihiro grunted, turning back to her scrubbing and wishing the princess were back.

They’d been putting this part off hoping the party would return early.

“Wonder what kept them,” Chihiro said, chipping at a stubborn bit of charcoal.

“The prince, most likely,” Rishi answered, inspecting a pair of gloves. “He’s jumpy as a peachilla, but he hates being rushed. Likes to do his best by the spirits, if he can.”

“He doesn’t believe in them,” Chihiro protested. “He says everything he reads is all stories.”

Rishi gave her a look. So did Lei, who said, “The Fire Lords have instructed us, for two generations, to put aside fables and live in the real world. The prince is very aware of this. And also actually lives in the real world.” After a moment he added, much more quietly, “That’s why he doesn’t make anyone go with him to the memorial if they don’t want to.”

Because honoring the soldiers who fell at the Temples, few as they were, was respectable and not at all superstitious. Honoring the dead airbenders…

Well, someone should probably do it. Restless dead were restless and no one needed to deal with that nonsense. And the prince was one of a very few people who could honorably and completely represent the Fire Nation.

But Chihiro had gone once, her first year on the ship, and she’d never volunteered again.

It had been so cold…

“Do you think they’re still there?” she found herself whispering, glancing back towards the cliffs. “That they’re dangerous?”

They’d never stayed the night before, and Chihiro didn’t know why. Could guess, but didn’t know.

“Dead is dead,” Lei said, soft but louder than Chihiro. “We honor them to be civilized, not because they haunt us.”

“Or because they do,” Rishi commented, his eyes darting across the deck. It took Chihiro a moment to realize he wasn’t seeing something up here, but remembering something below. “And it brings us comfort to wear away their memory a little at a time.”

The crew’s memorial candle for Princess Lian was long burned down and out. But Chihiro knew the prince’s candle, both his candles, were still whole. Even though she never visited the tower.

“I guess that makes sense,” Chihiro said, thinking of the wind at the top of the cliffs, how it had whispered and whistled and sometimes sounded like children crying. “Mostly.”

Lei grunted and Rishi said nothing.

They’d moved off the balcony and into a quieter hall when Toph brought herself to ask, “Did you want to go back to the library? Or just head straight down?”

The twitch and glance towards the library told Toph what Zuko’s instinct was, but he didn’t answer right away. It was Uncle who said, “We don’t have to leave tonight. And it would be easier to sort through the records if we brought a few more of the crew with us.”

“Toph would be bored,” Zuko said, surprising her. She hadn’t thought he’d noticed. “And we’d need her to bring us up and get us in.”

“You could ask her,” Toph said, before Uncle could respond. “She is standing right here.”

Zuko actually offered a mumbled, “Sorry,” before he asked, “Would you mind staying another day? And helping us navigate the Temple?”

“Would I like to stay on land for another day and keep bending?” Toph enjoyed all of the twitches from the people around her. “I dunno Sparky, that’s a tough one.”

She felt Shun almost recoil, but Zuko’s stance got firmer as he said, “You were really bored today. And you said to ask.”

The last was almost petulant and Toph could feel Mao and Uncle getting…tense. She’d meant it mostly as mild teasing, but this was angling towards an argument. If there hadn’t been an audience, Toph might have let it happen.

But there was, and—much more importantly—Toph did want to stay. No point in risking that.

“As long as I don’t have to sit around, sure,” she shrugged. “The room was pretty stable, so you wouldn’t need me once you got in. And I’d like to look around more.”

The tension deflated and Zuko nodded. “That’s fine.”

It felt almost too easy. “Okay, then sure,” Toph said, bracing herself. When Zuko didn’t add anything, Toph eventually asked, “So we’re heading right back down?”

“Can we go through the library?” Zuko asked. “I’d like to take a couple things with me.”

“Could’ve done that earlier,” Toph grumbled but started off in that direction.

Zuko didn’t say anything, but Uncle sighed.

Chapter Text

“Well,” Toph grumbled, toeing the water, “now I regret getting up early.”

“You won’t get any better if you don’t keep practicing,” Mao pointed out. “We don’t stop very often. And it’s just not ideal having you practice in the middle of the ocean.”

That Toph could agree with, although it didn’t make the slow fade of perception any better as she scuffled further in. There was rock under her feet this time instead of sand. That made it a little easier to look down, to not lose track of where she was in relation to the shoreline.

But everything above the pads of her feet was muted and incomprehensible, like the world had fallen away.

It was gross. And cold. And wet.

Toph was more than grateful when it was over.

“You’re doing well,” Mao told her. “You’re getting more comfortable, even if you don’t like it.”

“I hate it,” Toph grumbled. But she could tell that just being in the water wasn’t as scary as it had been, and that was probably good.

She really didn’t want to drown again.

Jee went over the list of chores one more time with Sergeant Shun, knowing it was probably irritating but unable to help himself. They were actually planning to be away from the ship for two or three days, and Jee wouldn’t be able to check in during that time. He almost wished he’d been chosen to stay behind. But that would have meant someone else watching the prince and…

Jee looked down through the windows, spotting Sergeant Mao and a sulking, dripping princess boarding the ship. Noticed Prince Zuko pause in his practice, going over and having a brief conversation with Sergeant Mao while the princess stalked off. Saw how the prince watched his wife until she was out of sight.

It would be better for Jee to be with the royals. Just in case.

Toph would have complained more about not being allowed to carry her own things up the cliffs, but Shiya had basically laughed at her that princesses didn’t carry things. Even if they were perfectly able to.

The only appropriate reply Toph could manage was, “Well I’m carrying you all up, so that’s not true.”

“Just let me take these,” Shiya said. She was Toph’s favorite because she was the most casual, and unembarrassed when Toph wasn’t fancy. “Then they won’t be in your way when you’re bending.”

“I could put them down,” Toph pointed out.

Shiya gasped in mock horror. “On the ground. How could we handle the shame?”

“You’re not budging on this, are you?”

“As fun as the Captain’s face might be,” Shiya said, picking up the bag with Toph’s things, “the prince wouldn’t like it. And we try not to irritate the prince.”

It was almost breezy, how she said it. But it felt more…foundational as Toph considered it. How the ship didn’t just run and function for the sake of Zuko’s mission, but how the people on it lived to avoid dealing with him. It was always Uncle who brought Zuko messages if it was interrupting something like his meditation and training. Rishi had looked to Zuko more than once to make sure it was okay that Toph was still working with the coal. Even Uncle had times where he said it was better to leave Zuko alone with his work.

Which, as far as Toph could tell, was to sit hunched over a scroll, muttering swear words. And it had to be one of the same twenty scrolls they kept on board. Nothing in that pile ever changed.

Explained why he was so excited about the library, come to think of it.

Zuko and Uncle weren’t carrying anything when Toph met everyone on deck. It was probably distributed between Huang, Jian, and Yuzu. Jee and Mao weren’t carrying anything either, and Jee fell into step just behind Zuko at the front while Mao and Uncle brought up the rear.

Everyone was alert and attentive, and Toph was starting to find it exhausting.

They weren’t very far from the ship when she said, “Unless there’s someone flying around here, we’re definitely still alone.”

Jee looked back to her, then to Zuko, who didn’t pause as he answered, “That’s good to know.”

He hadn’t relaxed at all though.

Toph sighed, and didn’t bother to be quiet about it.

Zuko twitched, and Jee looked back at her again. But they just kept moving.

It took a bit more time to get everyone situated when they got back to the cliff, but it wasn’t any harder to move them up. Jian made a noise as they approached the overhang, but relaxed when Toph opened a hole in it and they just slid through.

There was a lot of boring sorting before they entered the library, checking lanterns to make sure nothing was a fire hazard and going over who would be covering what sections. Toph might have cared that Zuko considered any Temple inventories relevant except that she wasn’t going to be able to see any of them herself.

And she didn’t really care.

This time Toph took them from the floor above through the pile of rubble at the front, making sure to shape the tunnel so that no one would slip and also so it wouldn’t drop on their heads. The preliminary work wasn’t too bad, but she ended up staying back with Shiya for a bit, reenforcing the walls and hitting things to make sure any loose bits settled.

Shiya didn’t like it, but she stayed close to Toph.

“It’s very impressive,” Jee was telling Zuko when they got down. “We’ll work on seeing if we can find some sort of registry here in the back.”

“See if you can find any letters too,” Zuko said, heading to his pile from last time. “If we know who they were in contact with, we might have places they could have tried to hide.”

There was an awkward shuffle from Jee before he said, “The Army spent quite a bit of time hunting any remaining airbenders after Sozin’s Comet. I imagine they were very thorough.”

“I’m sure they were,” Zuko agreed. “But there’s no reason not to check.”

And then he looked at her for whatever reason, before diving back into his scrolls.

Weird.

This time it was Shiya that stuck with Toph when she got bored and decided to go exploring. Shiya asked more questions about what Toph was doing and what she could see with her earthsense, but also complained more about how far they were getting from everyone else and how cold and dark it was.

“You can always go back,” Toph said after a particularly long string of curses—which Toph took careful note of—at how much rubble was getting in Shiya’s boots. “Tell them you lost me.”

“Not funny, Princess.”

Yeah, probably not. But neither was the whining.

The Temple was massive. Most of it was more or less structurally sound, if slowly getting worn down by the growing vines and persistent wind. There also wasn’t a lot of variety to the rooms, especially the further from the main building they got.

They found a few kitchens, lots of bedrooms, some spaces Shiya guessed were for meditation or classes, and so many rooms with an open wall. It was really hard to be sure, but if Toph had to guess, there’d been a lot of bending in those spaces.

“Are the other Temples like this?” Toph asked as they were making their way back for lunch. She’d done a pretty good first sweep to get a general layout and had a few places she wanted to revisit when they had eaten.

“I don’t know,” Shiya admitted. “We’ve passed the mountains where the Southern is a few times, but the prince actively avoids going too far east unless there’s a specific lead on the Avatar. It’s far enough away from most of the Army and Navy that it really isn’t safe for us to be out there alone. And the Northern Air Temple is close to here, but I’m told this one is easier to get to. And we’re less likely to run into unwanted attention.”

Which would probably be Zuko’s biggest priority. “You joined the crew after he’d visited the others?”

“Just before his marriage to Princess Lian,” Shiya confirmed, a little hesitant. “No one new…knows. But several of us joined at the same time. We weren’t told if we were replacements, or just additional security.”

Oh. Great.

“Was anyone new brought on before I got here?”

“No,” Shiya admitted. “We weren’t sure if your father would be sending any guards or attendants with you. Princess Lian had two of her own people, and it made things…cramped.”

Toph couldn’t imagine a single thing her father could have offered to lure anyone into living on a Fire Nation ship to take care of her and figured this was best for everyone.

They arrived just in time to catch the peak of an argument between Zuko and Uncle about whether he should stop for lunch.

“Ah look, here is your wife,” Uncle said the moment he saw them. “Of course you’ll want to stop and take a meal together.”

If Zuko got any hotter, he was going to light himself up. Normally he started venting small flames before this happened, and it took a moment for Toph to realize he was trying not to light the library on fire.

A good plan, but it meant that when he turned his attention to Toph, Zuko was about as close to snapping as she’d ever seen him. Which was…less than ideal.

“I’m pretty sure Zuko knows when he’s hungry,” Toph offered. “And you’re all busy here. He doesn’t need to stop.”

There had been a very quiet, “Does he?” from Jian at her first comment, but no one else seemed to have heard it and Toph didn’t need to borrow that sort of trouble.

Especially since she didn’t seem to have helped calm the situation at all. Zuko was still quivering slightly where he stood as he said, “I can stop.”

“But you don’t want to,” Toph said, and noticed Uncle sigh. “It’s fine. I wasn’t going to stay for very long anyway.”

“Then it’s no trouble for us to take a break,” Uncle said, and Toph wondered if everyone else was waiting on Zuko too.

“Fine,” Zuko said. And everyone immediately put down what they were doing.

Yuzu kept hesitating as he was pulling things out before he put them down, and Toph asked, “Do you want a table?”

He gave her a quiet, “Yes,” and that was all the permission Toph needed to borrow part of the floor in front of him.

Thinking about it for a moment, Toph made two more tables, one for her and Uncle and Zuko, the other for everyone else. One would have been easier, but the odds of anyone eating with Zuko were not even worth considering.

“Now this is convenient,” Uncle said, pressing his hand against the one next to him. “Will you be able to put it back when we’re finished?”

“Sure,” Toph said, taking a seat slightly nearer to where Zuko was standing than Uncle. “Easy.”

Uncle chuckled. “And we won’t fall through the floor?”

“Toph wouldn’t risk that,” Zuko said, taking his own seat, closer to Toph than she would have expected. “She’s not careless.”

“She’s also still right here,” Toph said, ignoring a weird flutter at the compliment. “And can speak for herself.”

It earned a jerky, “Sorry.”

“Whatever,” Toph said, reaching for her food. “It’s fine.”

As long as he didn’t make it a habit.

Before she and Shiya left, Jee asked her to make a few more tables so they could sort things. It didn’t take very long, but instead of going right back to his reading, Zuko watched her the whole time.

Chapter Text

Waking up on land after months at sea was way more strange than Toph had expected. It hadn’t felt real for a moment. There were too many people nearby, a small cacophony of heartbeats and breathing and small shifts, for her to be back in Gaoling in her own room. But it also wasn’t the rise and fall of their metal cage, slipping up and down on the water, warped and echoing.

Also, Zuko hadn’t gotten up yet, and that was definitely weird. He was always awake by the time Toph hauled herself out of bed.

It might have had something to do with the scroll he’d been reading when Toph had gone to bed, still unraveled on the ground next to him.

Whatever the reason, the moment Toph moved Zuko shot up, tense and arms up in a defensive stance. Which…okay.

“Morning,” she said waving in his general direction.

His hands lowered, slowly. “Good morning?”

“Sure,” Toph said, patting the earth under her and then stretching. The growing warmth from where he was sitting must have meant he was waking up enough to be embarrassed by something. “Why not.”

“Right,” Zuko said, still slowly heating up. And then he was scrambling out of bed.

What a weirdo.

“I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t be letting you do that,” Shiya called up, shifting back and forth.

Reaching past the ledge she’d made, Toph ran her hands along the tops of the columns, noting these ones were lacquered instead of just being exposed stone. One side was worn thin, chipping in some places. Mostly likely from the wind that kept blowing, pressing at Toph’s feet and knees, making her feel a little wobbly.

“You gonna come up here and stop me?”

“I’d rather not be dropped on my head,” Shiya answered, sounding half amused and half worried. “Please just…don’t fall. I’m pretty sure it would kill both of us if I tried to catch you.”

“I dunno,” Toph dropped to her knees to check the seams of the column. If it had been earthbent, there wouldn’t be any, and she could see them even from down below, so no earthbending. But even poking with her fingers and sniffing at the cracks, she wasn’t completely sure how they had managed to put it together. The weight bearing definitely helped keep it in place, but how had they even gotten it up here? “Maybe we’ll get lucky and it’ll only kill you. Then you don’t have to worry about getting in trouble for it.”

“I think I’ll pass, princess.”

“That’s fine. It’d probably be gross.”

“Princess.” That was Mao, who had been sneaking up on them for a couple minutes. Shiya was definitely going to get scolded for jumping because she hadn’t noticed. “The prince is wondering if you were planning on returning for lunch.”

She’d bent enough to be hungry, and she’d finished trying to figure this out. Maybe she could pick Uncle and Zuko’s brains for how it had been built. They weren’t earthbenders. They might know.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Wait,” Toph said, almost dropping her food. “They just dropped them off the cliffs?”

“There’s not a lot of other ways to teach something to fly,” Zuko answered. “Dragons were supposed to do something similar.”

“No wonder there aren’t any of them left either,” Toph muttered, not missing Uncle’s sudden careful stillness.

“They had people below to catch them,” Zuko said. “It wasn’t like they were going to let anyone get hurt.”

“Next time,” Toph jabbed a finger to her left, stopping just before Zuko’s face, “lead with that, Sparky.”

“It’s not like anyone’s going to try and throw you,” he grumbled.

She’d popped her thumb and hit him with a pebble, slightly right on his forehead which was a good shot for how little she’d had a chance to practice, before she’d thought better of it. His angry, “Ow!” only made her grin as she said, “They’d better not.”

“We know you can’t fly,” Zuko said, rubbing his head and scooting a little away from her. “And we don’t have any airbenders to catch you.”

“Or dragons,” Toph agreed, glad when that made Uncle go extra still again. So he was hiding something.

“Or dragons,” Zuko agreed.

They were settling down for the night, the crew getting more active now that she and Zuko were inside their tent and out of sight.

Which was probably why Huang was miming the incident at lunch to Jian, adding some extra flailing after pretending to get hit in the head.

It was odd, watching Zuko—getting ready for bed, stiff and solemn—and Huang—making fun of Zuko—at the same moment. A little…unsettling, Toph thought.

Or irritating? Maybe irritating.

As soon as Huang had stopped, Toph flicked a finger and there was a shout from Huang as an actual pebble got him right between the eyes.

Zuko had stiffened and spun at the noise, but since it was immediately followed by a short laugh and the hazy sound of teasing voices, he mostly relaxed. Looked at Toph and said “Oh,” as he noticed her finger still extended. Got warm as he turned his back.

It was weird, but it was the normal Zuko kind of weird.

What was really shocking was that it was Mao that had laughed.

They were packing for their return and Toph was trying not to be too grumpy about it. She’d gotten two days on land, and probably had Zuko to thank that they’d stayed the last night. He had to know she could have taken them safely down in the dark.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t put them back where we found them?” Uncle was asking as he helped load the last errant scrolls onto the shelves. “We’ve made it a habit to not disturb the Temple in the past.”

He didn’t quite look at Toph as he said it, but she knew he’d been watching her very closely when she’d put the tables back. Which was annoying. She was the best earthbender any of them had ever seen and he knew she could put rocks back together after she messed with them. Of course she’d made the floor look right when she was done with it.

“We’re already taking some with us,” Zuko said, looking over the packs that were holding their spoils. “And no one is going to come after us for moving them. It’ll be easier next time if we leave them how we want them.”

“Sir,” Mao interrupted, apologetic. “These ones aren’t doing well. I think we’ll damage them if we carry them like this.”

Sighing, Zuko wandered over.

When it looked like the conversation was going to take a while, Toph grabbed Shiya, telling Jee, “There’s one more place I wanna see. I’ll be down by that open hall.” She pointed, knowing he couldn’t see but hoping he knew the place well enough to know she meant the space behind the balcony where they’d held the memorial.

Jee didn’t seem thrilled that she was wandering off, but Toph had meant to take another look at the hall and had been…not avoiding it. It was just a little cold up here, and the hall acted as a sort of funnel, sweeping winds down and through it. She’d just kept putting it off, because what was there to really see, and now she’d almost run out of time.

But if they had a few minutes she could take one last look, check it off her list, and be done with this place.

Hopefully, she wouldn’t be here next year.

It was windy in the hall. Off and on, but it was a pushy sort of wind, one that almost drove her to the far wall, opposite the floors of balconies. She tried to take a look at the shape of the room, to guess at how it was working with the air to make this space.

“We shouldn’t stay long,” Shiya wasn’t shouting, but she’d gotten pretty close and was speaking loudly.

“I’m just checking out that room,” Toph said, pointing towards the chamber she could feel the edges of. And she knew Shiya could see it. There was a fuzzy imprint of a wooden door, reinforced with stone and steel.

“The sanctuary?”

So that’s what it was. Toph knew temples had them. It made sense that one of the four biggest Air Temples would have a stupidly huge one, right in the middle of a windstorm.

“Yeah.”

“The door’s locked. It can only be opened with airbending.”

“Then I’ll make another door,” Toph smiled, walking over.

She wasn’t really near the wall yet when the room came into focus enough that she had to stop. To think about what the vibrations were telling her.

“Princess?”

Normally it would have bothered Toph that Shiya was using that title so seriously. But Toph wasn’t sure how she looked to Shiya, and this…this was serious.

“Only airbenders can open it?” Toph checked, already sure this was true. It made sense, in a terrible sort of way.

Under her toes, the ground was a mess of old scorch marks.

“Yes.”

“So, it hasn’t been opened since—since the Temple was attacked.”

There was probably a better way to say it. A way that was more politic, more gentle. More blind to what Toph had found in the other room.

“No…” She could feel Shiya getting tense, nervous.

“Didn’t think so.”

Toph could open a hole in the wall from where she was, but she walked over first, examining the room and the door as best she could, taking her time to figure out what to do.

She didn’t want to make too big a hole. There was a lot of wind out here, and she didn’t know what it would do.

Feet apart, braced, Toph put one hand against the wall to hold everything. She didn’t need to touch, but it felt right. Her other hand slid sideways, like opening a screen door.

The wind did push into the room, whistling through and turning sharp. But Toph had chosen well. There wasn’t anything directly in its path besides her.

Stepping in and around the hole, the wind dropped off. Toph could hear it next to her, but the room was large and the sound mostly got lost in the stillness and silence. It made it easier to focus on the earth. To start counting.

Shiya ducked in after her, admitting, “I can’t see much. Is there something here?”

There were statues. Those weren’t a surprise. Toph had noticed them first, pressed into all the walls as they were. There were lots of statues here.

But those weren’t what she was counting.

Shiya hadn’t brought a lantern, so she could only stand close to Toph, tense and straining against the darkness.

By the time Zuko showed up looking for them, Toph had finished counting.

“You opened it,” were his first words, as she felt him raise his hand, heard fire crackling from it. “What—Oh.“

Shiya hissed a breath and Jee, coming in behind Zuko, sighed. Like he wasn’t surprised.

None of them were.

In some ways, Toph wasn’t really surprised either.

“Twenty kids,” Toph said, as Zuko approached the nearest pile of bones. “And a handful of adults.”

She couldn’t really guess the exact ages from bones. She’d seen plenty before. Earth buried people and any bender with the right kind of “seeing” could find them. So Toph knew what she was looking at. But she could only guess, based on size, how old these people had been.

Some of them, the small piles cradled along the arm of a larger set, she could make a really good guess.

The wind pressed through the hole, stirring up dust and sounding like…something sad. Something sad and crying.

Uncle wasn’t surprised either when he came in. But he at least paused to bow his head for a moment.

Zuko, kneeling by one of the adult skeletons that had held a baby, said, “We’ll need to get them out. There’s a scroll on death obligations upstairs. Have someone bring it.”

Jee bowed and left. Zuko stood, holding his arm up as high as he could, turning and stopping for a moment as he found each pile. Looking up, and up and up, into the vault of statues.

“Avatars,” Uncle said, stepping further into the room. “They even included Roku.”

“But not the next one,” Zuko said, turned towards the empty space left of the last statue. “They hadn’t made a statue for that Avatar yet.”

“They would have been very young,” Uncle said. “No more than twelve—“

He stopped, attention falling on what could easily have been the bones of a twelve-year-old.

“Toph.” Zuko was looking at her and Toph didn’t know what he expected. What she expected.

“What?”

She wasn’t sure he would be able to hear her over the sound of the wind, but he said, “Do you need to leave?” When she didn’t answer he added, “We could use your help, trying to move them out.”

It was hard to tell, with the quiet scream of the wind near her, if he was being soft as he spoke. It felt cold.

Everything felt cold.

“Sure. I can stay.”

Nodding, Zuko turned to Mao who was slipping in. “Get a message back to the ship. We’ll be here at least another day.”

Taking a slow look around, Mao nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Chapter Text

The atmosphere on the ship was quiet, a series of whispers and slow movements that made everything feel like it was slogging through mud. Toph could feel that and she hadn’t even finished coming up the ramp. There was the usual shift of the water, cradling them. But everything else felt sluggish, and it wasn’t just the warping of the vibrations through the metal.

People weren’t looking at her. They were deliberately keeping away. Toph’s only advantage in the strained reception was that she had never looked at anyone, so no one would notice if that had changed. They wouldn’t know if she was intimidated.

And she was watching them. Whether or not they knew it. So she knew Zuko was watching her.

“Ship ready?” Jee asked as soon as he spotted Shun.

“She’s hot. We can leave now.”

Technically, it was one of the days when Toph should have been helping below. And the correct time. She was already in the right clothes even.

And she’d been cold, ever since they’d been in the Temple. Especially since she’d opened the sanctuary.

Perks of being a princess, she wasn’t carrying anything. So she could abruptly change direction and head below deck without any issue. It felt like Mao was going to go after her, but Zuko caught everyone’s attention and Toph was able to slip away.

The furnace was hot and Lei and Chihiro were quiet as they worked, keeping the fires low and even as they waited for the anchor to come up. Toph looked over what they had cleaned while she was gone, picking at the specks they hadn’t gotten.

At one point, it seemed like Chihiro was about to speak, but Lei dropped a hand on her head and spun her around, away from Toph.

Which was fine. Toph was still thinking about…stuff.

She worked at the metal and charred coal, trying to figure out what she was so angry about. It wasn’t like she didn’t know. Everyone knew the Fire Nation had gone out to conquer the world. That they were dangerous. Some said bloodthirsty, but Toph had always figured that was an exaggeration, and living on the ship hadn’t lessened that impression.

Maybe that was the problem. That Toph had lived with Fire people, knew them as well as she knew anyone. Knew that they weren’t all terrible.

And that didn’t change what she’d found. What had already happened.

She was getting too comfortable here, Toph realized. Because she’d found things to do. Because everyone respected her, at least as the princess, and she could get away with things and didn’t have to hide nearly as much as she once had.

But that didn’t mean she belonged.

“Princess?” Chihiro said, and Toph felt Lei sigh. “If…if today isn’t a good day—”

“I’m fine,” Toph said. “It’s not even a full day since we got here so late.”

It had taken them a while to move all the bones, to get them to a place a little ways away from the buildings, where the nuns would have laid out their dead.

It had felt…weird to leave them exposed. Just lying there in the sun and the wind. But better than them still being trapped inside, Toph supposed.

Someone had kept them there. Had stayed there for days, trying to get in. Keeping those people trapped inside.

She had to wonder, as she inspected the shovels, if it would have been different if those soldiers had had to watch those people die.

She was gripping too tightly. Not just with her hands, but with her bending. Her sense of what she was holding skidded, and Toph tried to latch back on, twisted and pressed.

The metal gave under her fingers.

Just a little. Just the slight divots, under her fingertips.

Toph felt her breath coming faster. But when Lei asked if something was wrong, she just said, “No,” and handed him his shovel.

Avoiding people meant making up excuses for other things to be doing, which was sort of a chore on the ship. Retreating early saying she needed to get ready for bed was a load of spoil, and meant Toph had to come up with things to do to excuse taking an hour to get ready for bed.

She settled on thoroughly combing her hair, a chore she managed to avoid most days that she could do while sitting on the floor and required less than half of her attention. That left the rest of her focus on the floors and walls of the room, feeling the ways they stretched and settled as the ship moved. Tiny, tiny shifts that she wouldn’t have noticed when she first boarded. Wouldn’t have bothered paying attention to.

But she’d bent metal today.

She couldn’t practice where it would be too obvious. This was definitely going to be important for eventually getting her off this ship and away. Which meant she couldn’t afford to start big and clumsy, like she normally would. She’d have to really listen, to work as small as she could.

Be invisible.

So she’d start with the basics. Looking, trying to see if she could find that hold she’d managed earlier that day, settling into that sense of earth-under-fire, the sort of thing her bending could latch on to.

Later, she’d see if she could do something with it.

She was a little more than halfway through combing her hair when Zuko stormed into the room, almost skidding to a stop when he spotted her, freezing in place.

“You’re…busy,” he said, stuck just inside the doorway, arm still extend from pushing the door open.

“Did you not believe me?” Toph asked in her sweetest voice, and felt him flinch back.

“No, I—“ There was some fumbling as he stepped further in and closed the door. “I’m sorry. I just thought…”

He didn’t finish, and Toph didn’t fill the silence. Just went back to combing her hair.

Instead of moving to get ready for bed, Zuko just stayed there, looking at her.

“Do you—“ He stumbled over the words. “Would you like help?”

He sounded reluctant. Or hesitant? And Toph wasn’t sure why he’d even bothered to ask.

“I’m good.”

“… Okay.”

It was harder to practice with Zuko moving around the room, but she tried pay attention to how the floor didn’t just vibrate, but flexed slightly with each step. She focused on his armor too, wondering what she would find in that metal. But it was too hard to pick out details through his body and the rack in the corner.

Oh well, maybe some other time.

“Was it really that bad?” Private Yan asked, and Shiya thought Mao might hit him.

“It was,” the captain said, coming to join them. “Especially for a civilian. You know what it was like when you first joined.”

“Just bones though?” Private Yan persisted. “I mean, bodies I get, but bones.”

“There were babies,” it was Huang who spoke this time, voice hitching a little at the end. “Little kids. It wasn’t the bones, it was…”

It was the reality of what had happened. Of who had done it. Of watching the princess slip so quickly and quietly back into that shell she’d had when she’d first arrived, doing nothing, saying nothing. No more smiles or teasing. Just…nothing.

“We had to do it,” Private Yan did not know when to quit. “They were dangerous, and—“

“It wasn’t even us,” Jian said, hunching towards the fire. “It was a hundred years ago.”

“The Temples were a hundred years ago,” Captain Jee said, calling a flame and working it in his hand. “Ba Sing Se was ten.”

“Bit more than that,” Huang corrected, his mouth snapping shut when he remembered who he was talking to.

“A bit,” Captain Jee agreed.

It was Chihiro that asked, “She knows we don’t do that, right? That our expedition is peaceful.”

Unless they were under attack. But those would be adults, soldiers or pirates. Not helpless children huddled against each other as they starved.

Shiya curled in a bit more, trying not to shiver.

“She’s aware that the prince’s mission is to find the Avatar,” Captain Jee said. “If she has any other questions, she’ll ask. He can give her the best answer.”

Hopefully, Shiya thought, taking a sip of her drink. The prince didn’t exactly have a great track record for being talkative. The princess wasn’t much of an exception to that.

“If he doesn’t?” Chihiro had always asked the riskiest questions, partly because she was from some backwater, but mostly because she knew they couldn’t toss a firebender who worked the boiler. Shiya had found it irritating until she’d realized she was jealous. Then she’d been grateful.

Captain Jee looked at Chihiro, letting the flames in his hand die out. “Then he doesn’t. And we have to live with it.”

Not an appealing thought. But then, this was Princess Toph. At some point, she’d probably drag it out of him. She had the nerve to face the prince, even when he was getting obnoxious. She wouldn’t stay silent forever.

Chapter Text

“Fight me.”

Zuko’s pathetic, “What?” wasn’t a great start, but Toph hadn’t expected much when she’d decided how to answer if she needed anything after breakfast.

“I want to spar with you. Bending.”

“No!” Zuko went from limp confusion to rigid tension so fast she could almost hear his bones snapping into place. “That’s not—“

“Why?” Toph pressed, setting her cup down so she didn’t accidentally break it. She was on edge too, her own body stiff and jerky. “You spar with other people. And you know I’m a good bender.”

“It’s too dangerous.”

“With you? Fine. I’ll spar with Uncle.”

“I don’t think—” Uncle said.

“No,” Zuko said. “That’s not safer and—“

“Then Captain Jee?” she pushed, not waiting for a verbal answer, feeling rejection in every line of him, “Or Mao? I’ll practice with Chihiro if I have to, but I am sparring.”

She didn’t leave any room for argument in her tone. That didn’t stop Zuko from trying. “I outrank you,” he had the audacity to say. “When I tell them—“

“Then I’ll just keep throwing rocks at you until you stop being stubborn,” Toph snapped. “Pretty sure you’ll bend then.”

He choked back some retort as a strangled gurgle, took two deep breaths, and asked, “Why are you asking for this now? You never wanted to fight before.”

“Uh no,” Toph said. “I’ve always wanted to do this, but you’re way too much of an asshole too much of the time for me to ask.”

That landed like a boulder to his face. “I—What?”

He had the nerve to sound hurt, but Toph wasn’t falling for it. “Do you even pay attention to yourself, Sparky? How you sound and how you act? You’re as bad as my dad about expecting everything to be the way you want. Maybe this is your ship, but the rest of us have to live on it.”

That wasn’t what she’d meant to say. Not the fight that she’d planned when she’d opened her mouth. Wasn’t even what she was most angry about. Sure, Zuko was annoying with his paranoia, and the rules and schedule were obnoxious.

But they had kept her safe, so far. Probably.

Mostly, Toph was angry at herself.

“Are you going to fight me?” she asked, throwing the challenge across the table and feeling him flinch.

But he didn’t give. “No. I’m not.”

Before she could say anything else, he had left.

Uncle watched Zuko go before turning to Toph to say, “I’m not sure that was the best way to handle that.”

Unwilling to stick around and listen to him be sanctimonious, Toph stormed out, heading back to her room. No one said anything as she stomped past them in the hall, which was almost too bad. It would have been nice to vent.

Instead she had to slam the door shut and throw herself into one of her boulders, screaming into the stone.

It sort of helped.

By the time Jee made it down to the deck, the prince was more than halfway through his practice sets, fire bursting and sputtering from his fists in turn. The general was already there, keeping an eye out for stray sparks as other crew members had to cross the deck. It seemed a safe enough place to start.

“Trouble, sir?” Jee asked, making sure it wouldn’t carry.

“Some,” the general sighed. “But I don’t think there’s much we can do to intervene.”

Jee offered a very cautious, “I’m told the princess went back to her rooms after breakfast?”

Early. But that didn’t need to be said. 

“I think so,” the general answered. He glanced sideways to add, “I’m not sure if we’ll see her again today.”

It hadn’t been that bad since she’d first arrived. Jee looked back to the prince, watching his anger dance in red and orange and sometimes white fury across the deck. “Might be for the best.”

“Perhaps.”

That was not what Jee had wanted to hear. He’d better see if he could find someone else who knew what had happened.

Toph was spinning chunks of her boulder around her fingers when Zuko came back to the room. He stopped when he spotted her, his attention staying in her direction even as he closed the door and started getting changed.

It took her a minute to realize why. “I’m not gonna throw them at you.”

“That’s not what you said earlier.” His movements were more like twitches, he was still so stiff. And he was half turned towards her instead of fully away, like he normally was when he changed.

Toph put the rocks away, nestling into the stone, trying to look relaxed.

It only sort of worked. Some of the tension left Zuko, but he was still half watching her.

“I do have some restraint,” Toph said. “I’m not gonna chase you from the room and down the halls.”

It was tempting, just because it was a silly image. But as angry as she still was, Toph knew that wouldn’t be fair to Zuko. He hadn’t done anything to deserve that.

Yet.

“I’d rather be hit,” he grumbled, and Toph wasn’t sure if he’d meant for her to hear him. It was a pretty sad thing to say, either way.

By the time he’d finished dressing, Toph had started playing with her stone again, breaking pieces off, making them dance around, and then reattaching them. It was mindless, and let her focus on other things.

Like what was she going to say next.

“Are you going to practice with Sergeant Mao?” Zuko asked, fully facing her now.

Toph shrugged. “Probably.” She didn’t have any reason to skip. It wasn’t like there was anything else to do today.

“Am I—“ His fists kept clenching and unclenching. “Am I really that hard to talk to?”

It seemed like there was another question he was trying to ask, but Toph could only guess what it was, so she answered, “Yes.”

“Oh.”

“You really didn’t notice?”

“I did. I just thought…it was getting better.”

He got really quiet at the end. Toph was careful as she answered, “It is. That doesn’t mean it’s not hard. What are we even supposed to talk about?”

They didn’t have much in common, as far as she could tell. He didn’t want her help running the ship and honestly there probably wasn’t a lot he need help with. She couldn’t read, and he didn’t share what he spent so much of his time studying. Stuff about the Avatar, she guessed, from the arguments he had with Uncle sometimes. But she didn’t know anything about that.

And bending was clearly off limits.

“I dunno,” he admitted, shifting his weight back and forth. “I never really…people don’t talk to me. Much.”

Not a huge surprise. He didn’t exactly have friends on the ship. “How long have you been out here?”

“At sea?” Toph nodded and Zuko said, “Eight years.”

It sounded long. And then Toph realized that he’d only had his uncle to talk to that whole time. And a wife that he’d had for six months. Sure, they must have stopped in ports. But that wouldn’t have been much different than dealing with his crew. Zuko clearly didn’t have any friends that he just hung out with.

Even Toph had managed to have more of a social life. And her parents had tried to pretend she didn’t exist.

“That’s…a long time,” she said.

“I know.”

They were such small words, but Toph could feel the complete awareness Zuko had of what they meant.

Also, eight years. He’d lived on a boat. Only occasionally seeing land.

She was going to go nuts.

Something in the silence, in the weight of the moment, made things softer. It was easier to ask, “What do you want to talk about?”

“I just,” Zuko struggled, starting to pace the room a little. “I don’t know. I just don’t want you to be angry at me anymore.”

She wasn’t. Not at the moment. She was sure she could be, if she tried. She’d been angry for the last few days. Angry at everything and everyone.

But it didn’t solve anything, and it wasn’t Zuko’s fault. Well, this morning was. But everything else, that was on her.

“I’m not angry,” she told him, seeing something about his posture that was still…off. He’d been turned to her this whole time, but she could tell she had his full attention now, that he was almost leaning towards her at this point. “I just…”

She was tired. She couldn’t stay here. She’d go absolutely insane if she did. But it was starting to feel like home, and it was an effort to fight that.

It made her want to punch things.

“What?” Zuko asked, taking a step towards her. “What is it?”

He had to ask. He had to care, when she needed him to be annoying and selfish. “It’s just…disappointing, sometimes. Being stuck.”

Here. In this ship, on the water. Between a life she knew and a life she was sure she shouldn’t want, but might be settling into anyway.

She’d settled for a lot of things. She’d meant not to do that anymore.

“What do you want?” Zuko asked. “Can I help?”

“Fight me,” Toph suggested, knowing it wouldn’t really help.

“Okay,” he said, and Toph froze. “But…maybe tomorrow?”

He was trembling a little now, and Toph didn’t blame him. If she wasn’t almost lying down, she didn’t know if she’d be steady either. “Okay.”

Chapter Text

It turned out the biggest benefit to letting Mao teach Toph how to punch people wasn’t that Toph knew how to break someone’s nose with her hands, but that it didn’t take all morning for her to sort out some combat practice drills with Zuko.

Everyone who’d seen them had gone rigid when Toph had joined Zuko during the middle of his practice, and it hadn’t gotten better when she’d started breaking her rock into what she hoped were useful sized pieces.

Zuko was the worst though. So Toph had decided maybe today could be a bit of a compromise.

She’d never actually faced a firebender before. And she only had so many rocks on this ship.

“This is fine?” Zuko had checked, before they’d started. “It’s not exactly…fighting you.”

“Yeah, we’re good,” Toph said, stretching her arms forward, then over her head. “I haven’t had to fight anywhere that I might run out of rocks before, so it’s smarter to start like this.”

“Did you…fight a lot? In Gaoling?” He was extremely confused, but it was helping him to relax. 

Instead of answering, Toph bopped his shoulder, smirking as he twitched back. “Let’s see if you can guess.”

That strangled noise was making more appearances. She should probably figure out what it meant.

They’d agreed to start with Toph on the defensive, to test how well her rocks would hold up to different levels of firepower. Zuko’s moves were basic and familiar, and Toph rotated through three different defenses, catching fireballs on stones she thought were about the same size, dodging and creating a stone barrier that the fire grazed, and taking hits dead on against a stone wall.

She learned two things.

“I think you’re a better bender than you think you are,” she said, examining the scorch marks and feeling the hair fine fractures where the stones had taken a direct hit. “If this is you at less than half power, I’m gonna need a lot more rocks.”

Not that she couldn’t fix them and put them back together. Make them strong again. But heating the stone did things to it that changed it in ways Toph might not be able to reverse.

Or at least, it would take a lot more practice and effort.

“I’m decent,” Zuko said, very, very quietly. “I’m not very consistent though.”

“Yeah, we should probably work on that.”

She hadn’t meant anything particular by saying that, and his sudden tension wasn’t quite enough of a hint for her to know if he was surprised, or offended.

“I don’t know if sparring with you will make much of a difference. I’ve sparred with Lieutenant Jee and Uncle for years.”

Still quiet, and not offended, she guessed. More worried about offending her, maybe? “Yeah, but your goal is to not hit them. I mean, you don’t want to hit me either,” she added when he got even more tense. She knocked on her stone a couple of times. “But I can see what you’re doing with your fire when you hit the rocks. You don’t have to worry about hurting anyone and we can probably find patterns and stuff.”

Maybe. This was a dumb idea. Toph knew firebending forms by now. She saw them all the time. But she didn’t know that much about fire.

Did she?

“Would you want to do that?” Zuko asked.

“Sure. I will need more rocks though. These aren’t going to last forever if we use them to test your serious stuff.”

“How long will they hold out?”

They spent the rest of the morning testing different levels of heat and speed at different distances instead of fighting each other. Zuko apologized at the end, but Toph just punched him again.

“It’s fine,” she smiled. “This was fun.”

He was already warm from all the practice, but she was pretty sure he got hotter as he said, “Oh. Good.”

Normally Toph was left to her own devices after lunch unless she was working with the furnace crew, which made it awkward when Uncle asked, “Do you think I could have some of your time?”

There wasn’t really a good way for her to lie. But she didn’t trust that tone.

Zuko must not have either, because he said, “She was going to sit with me,” in the most obvious lie he could possibly have managed.

Which left Toph in the awkward space of either agreeing and being stuck with him for hours to annoy Uncle, or calling Zuko on it and being stuck with Uncle instead.

No win situation.

But Zuko had practiced with her that morning, and was maybe trying to help, so Toph went with, “Yeah, but I’m only staying if it’s interesting. So you’d better keep me entertained.”

Why that made him turn into a mini furnace, Toph had no idea. It made Uncle twitch too, which wasn’t his usual reaction to Toph making Zuko act weird. He usually found it funnier.

“I’ll…try,” Zuko offered. “But they are just historical records.”

Well this was going to be a rocking good time then. Seriously, a whole library and he only brought the boring stuff back. Typical. “I may have time later,” Toph told Uncle, concealing any concern behind her dry tone.

“I do hope you have a good afternoon,” Uncle offered as he stood. “But when you next have time, I would appreciate it if you would find me.”

“Yeah, sure,” Toph said, hoping she’d have enough time to plan how to get out of that. Probably for at least a week. Hopefully he’d forget by then.

Maybe.

“Sorry,” Zuko mumbled. “I didn’t just get historical records. I think I have some spirit tales too, if those would be more interesting.”

“Gonna be honest,” Toph sighed, “I kinda wish you hadn’t said anything.”

“I know,” he was slouching now, looking away from her. “But Uncle…he doesn’t need to bother you with this.”

Oh. Great. He’d already talked to Zuko. Definitely not gonna forget then. “Should you?”

“No. We already talked. It’s fine.”

At the very least, Zuko did believe that. But Toph was pretty suspicious of Zuko’s definition of “fine” at this point.

Rather than arguing though, she asked, “Are you used to reading out loud? Because it almost doesn’t matter which you pick if you’re not.”

“Not really,” Zuko said. “It’s been a while since—No. Not really.”

That was probably a more interesting story, but Toph knew better than to ask. “Just grab whatever. I’ll probably interrupt you a bunch and make you practice.”

“I could not read to you,” Zuko grumbled. “Instead of you doing that.”

“And I would stay here and do what exactly?” Toph said. “Besides, I’ve been wondering what you brought back.”

“You have?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

Turned out, it was a bunch of really dry historical records. Birth records of all things.

“You brought this?” Toph said one line in. Apparently in the darkest week of the year, there had been two babies born, average sizes, one with a predisposition to hiccups. “Why?”

“The Temples were gender segregated,” Zuko said. “East and West were where the nuns lived, with all the kids. Until the boys were old enough to go to the North and South. They kept notes on the kids though. Stuff people might need to know. They might,” his fingers tightened slightly around the curve of the scroll, “have mentioned if the Avatar was born at their Temple.”

“So,” Toph drew the word out, “you’re going to go through how many years of birth records? To figure this out?”

“I was going to skim them,” Zuko muttered, yelping a little when Toph whacked her fist into his arm. “Two years. Maybe three, it’s hard to tell with how they kept dates. They didn’t track the reigns of the Fire Lords very closely.”

“That’s a lot,” Toph said.

“There weren’t that many kids a year,” Zuko offered. “Maybe one or two a month, depending on the season. Looks like they tried to stack most of them coming around early spring.”

“Stack?”

He was getting warm again. “Like, plan the pregnancies. Most of them happened at the same time.”

Toph took one breath to think about that and then rolled it right out of her brain. “Huh. That sounds kinda dumb.”

“I’m sure they had their reasons,” Zuko was weirdly defensive about this. “We don’t have enough records to know for sure, but it could have been anything from some sort of spiritual reason to safer weather. With how isolated the Temples were, I’ll bet they needed certain conditions for taking care of a bunch of children.”

“Do you like the Air Nomads?” Toph asked before she could think better of it.

His rigid response was a predictable, “They’re dead. I don’t know them.”

But he did know them, Toph thought. He’d been in their homes and read stories about them and was looking at their birth records. He knew enough to have studied anything other people had written, to have opinions on what they did and why.

He’d known where to carry their dead.

But challenging Zuko on his opinion on a culture that his country had claimed needed to be exterminated wasn’t going to get her anywhere. So Toph tried, “Do you like history?”

“I don’t know,” Zuko admitted, his fingers trailing, making a soft, crackling rustle. “I’ve just read a lot of it, I guess.”

Eight years at sea. Nothing else to do but hunt the Avatar. No clue except the Avatar had been alive a little over a hundred years ago, and should have been alive now.

“It’s the only way I really knew anything,” Toph admitted, fingers picking at the table legs. “I don’t know if I liked it either, but it was the only thing that made my world bigger for a long time. The only way I knew anything about people other than my parents and our house. You probably know more though.”

Eight. Years.

Zuko didn’t answer right away. He was curling around the edge of the table, bracing for something. “I’ve been a lot of places.” He pulled his hands into his lap, away from the scroll, fists tight. “I know some things. There’s a lot of things I still don’t know.”

Like how to be a normal person. How to talk to someone and not trip over his own ego. How to make friends when you suspected almost everyone around you of actively wanting to hurt people you cared about.

“I’ve got an idea,” Toph said, bracing her arms on the table and propping her head. When Zuko looked at her, she said, “You teach me about the places that you’ve been and what you’ve seen, and I’ll teach you what I know about all the weird people I’ve met.”

It was information she would need, she told herself. She hadn’t been outside Gaoling much before this, and never very far. She’d need to know more if she wanted to blend in when she disappeared.

“How did you meet weird people?” Zuko asked, leaning a little towards her. “Was that why you learned to fight?”

“I got bored when I was little,” Toph told him, unable to help the smile stretching across her face. “So I tried my new bending I was learning in Rumbles.”

She wondered if he didn’t know what those were, but apparently he’d just been stunned because the almost breathless squeak he managed was, “When you were little?” At her silent smile he added, “You’re still not that old!”

“I had to practice somewhere.”

“Against people twice as big as you with more bending experience?” His voice was going high enough it was starting to creak.

“Please,” Toph said, “they were at least three times bigger than me. I was way little.” While he was choking, she added, “And it didn’t really matter how long they had been bending. I made all of them look like a joke.”

“Are you being literal?” he asked.

“What, you think I know what a joke looks like?” Toph asked, waving a hand in front of her face.

Zuko actually snickered. “You’ve figured it out somehow,” he said, tapping the floor a few times. “You’re funnier than most people I know.”

Toph was pretty funny, but he wasn’t saying much. Zuko didn’t get out at all.

“I’m also a better bender,” she said. “I’ll bet you anything,” Toph leaned more onto her hands, her stomach pressing against the edge of the table, “I’m the greatest earthbender you’ve ever met. Greatest in the world.”

“I believe it,” Zuko said, voice low, face turning away from her, hands pulling towards his stomach. “I’m sure it’s true.”

If he’d been looking at her, Toph would have stuck her tongue out at him because it felt like the only reasonable response to how sappy he sounded. But it was good he wasn’t looking because she might actually have been blushing and how had that happened?

Chapter Text

Uncle caught Toph two days later when she wasn’t busy after lunch and Uncle hadn’t made the misstep of mentioning wanting to talk in front of Zuko. Toph was almost tempted to lie and say she had plans with Zuko, was just getting something, and let Zuko know how it felt.

But it would be a stretch, and the records he was reading weren’t that interesting. He hadn’t gotten as far as he’d meant to because Toph kept derailing him with random questions, especially once she’d found out that the birth records included records for the sky bison, and she wasn’t just gonna let Zuko brushed over giant, six-legged, furry airbenders. She hadn’t known there were other animals that could bend besides badgermoles.

And dragons.

Toph had also asked a lot of questions about dragons. Zuko had almost known more about the bison than the dragons.

He’d told her she should ask Uncle.

Maybe that was a good distraction, if she needed one.

Privacy was a flagrant lie on the ship, with the echoes and open spaces and sea wind. Pretty much anywhere had a downside as far as trying to keep things secret. But Uncle had been doing this long enough that when he took her to the back of the ship and positioned them, Toph wasn’t surprised to find the breeze carrying their words away.

“You seem to be mostly recovered from your shock,” he said, and Toph took a moment to consider not just the words that he’d picked, but how up front he was being with her.

“I’m adaptable,” she said, tapping the metal railing and observing it to give her something to focus on.

Uncle hummed. “Did you apologize to Zuko?”

Very direct. Well, at least he was learning.

She should reward it, but his question was rude so, “Why would I apologize to Zuko for a bunch of firebenders killing kids?”

There was the slightest flinch. “That is not what I meant, and you know it. Or do you blame him for what happened there?”

“No,” that was easy to answer. “He hated it too.”

Uncle relaxed just a little. “I understand that you haven’t been with us for very long. And that life here is…different than what you are used to.” Toph snorted. “But I hope that you can understand that we have known Zuko for a very long time. And are better acquainted with his…peculiarities. So I say this out of concern for you both.”

Oh boy. “That’s really not—“

“Be gentle with him,” Uncle said, fervent and earnest. “He is much more fragile than he seems. And he will take everything that you say to him very seriously.”

Toph had expected to be angry. Being cornered always made her dig her feet in, and once she was on the defensive she knew she took everything like it was a hit. But she was shocked at how angry she was for Zuko.

“He is not fragile,” Toph said, feeling the metal under her hands twist until it was being held by her bending. “He wouldn’t still be here if he was.”

Uncle was a wall of heat and fury. “You have no—“

“He’s sensitive,” Toph said, driving through the interruption at a volume that made both of them pause. Lowering her voice she said, “That’s not the same thing as fragile. And you’re not helping him by pretending that it is.”

Toph was neither. She couldn’t afford to be. If she’d believed every word her parents had thrown at her she’d still be helpless and pathetic. If she’d been sensitive, she might have died just from the sheer pressure of everyone’s scrutiny her first weeks on this ship.

And she definitely wasn’t fragile. She’d beaten that out of herself as early as she could. Because no one else was going to help her do it.

Zuko was the utter and complete opposite of fragile. Life had been chucking boulders at him for years, and he was still moving. Toph was pretty sure the ground could fall out from under him and he’d just take it as a sign he had to learn how to fly. He was as subtle as a rockslide but he could be as dependable as bedrock.

Uncle was right, Toph hadn’t known Zuko for very long. But she might know him as well as anyone else on this ship. Maybe even better, if Uncle was anything to go by.

“They are not as different as you might think,” Uncle said.

And Toph slammed her fist onto the rail, not caring that people across the deck turned to look. “Don’t—“

“Princess, General.”

Jee sounded slightly apologetic, but there was something solid and unyielding in his voice too. “Captain,” Uncle said.

“We’re being approached by another vessel. They’re requesting we stop and allow contact.”

Toph couldn’t sense any sign of another ship, but she could feel Uncle turning, stopping when he spotted something out at sea. “Ah, Admiral Zhao. I hadn’t realized he’d come this far north.”

“Sergeant Mao is getting the prince. May I suggest that you and the princess will be happier inside?”

“I think it would be better if I greeted the admiral with Prince Zuko. But I’m sure the princess—“

“You’re sure what?” Toph snapped. Because while she had no idea who this Admiral Zhao was and didn’t mind generally being cooperative, she wasn’t taking orders from Uncle. Especially not right now.

Jee’s feet shifted a little, but he didn’t say anything. Uncle only said, “We’ll ask Zuko.” In a tone that was definitely designed to make Toph more enraged.

If he thought firebenders were tough in a temper, he’d never met a real earthbender yet. She’d show him.

Jee was trying very hard to not be anxious. The prince had been alone and quiet so far today, and hadn’t been witness to the slow rolling explosion that the general was provoking from the princess. The prince would be stressed enough knowing they had visitors. He did not need the added stress of his uncle antagonizing his wife.

In the desperate hope that projecting a sense of calm would make truth of the lie that everything was alright, Jee allowed himself to feel relieved when the prince came down with Sergeant Mao, tense but not panicked.

It probably would have been smart for Jee to share his plan with the princess. Prince Zuko took one look at her and Jee was honestly surprised the general wasn’t on fire.

“What’s wrong?” were the prince’s first words, instead of the hoped for, “Report,” and Jee knew everything was just going to be downhill from here.

The general’s saccharine, “Nothing—“ was cut off by the princess’s “Shut up.” Which was so shockingly rude everyone present followed the order. Jee saw the general’s mouth snap shut and then watched a look of mild horror grow on the man’s face.

The prince’s look was not horror, but while Jee could appreciate how awe inspiring it was to watch a young woman assert such a strong aura of command that she overrode the Dragon of the West, they were short on time. “The admiral has requested that he be allowed to come aboard with four of his men.”

That brought Prince Zuko back to the moment. The shift in his demeanor was painful to watch, but Jee had a duty. And he wasn’t going to let himself fail in it.

“I assume this is like his other requests,” the prince said, and Jee nodded. The admiral had a way of asking that made it clear who had the Fire Lord’s approval. “Send our reply. And get everyone to their posts.”

Five firebenders not under the prince’s direct command boarding their ship. There was no way the admiral would come with non-benders.

Jee believed the general that the princess had the ability to shock people if they tried anything with her. He did not want to find out today.

It didn’t help that before Zuko could say anything, the princess said, “You’d better not send me to my room.”

It would have been very helpful, Jee thought, if the general had picked a fight with the princess on a different day.

Sergeant Shun was already coming down the stairs as Jee climbed them, and it was only the work of a few seconds to transfer orders. Everyone knew what their placements should be for visitors. 

They were in position before the ship even stopped.

And the princess was still on the deck.

She’d accepted a spot about as far as they could put her without looking like they were keeping her from the gangplank. And she was letting Sergeant Mao hover nearby. The princess almost looked demure from where she was, not angled toward anyone, plucking delicately at the scarf hanging over her arms. An obvious flash of green among the uniforms, not in armor of any sort.

Not ideal, but not the worst.

No, that wasn’t true. Having the princess on deck was honestly the safest place for her. It wasn’t like the admiral could attack her directly. Much better to have her near witnesses.

Even if the prince looked like he was about to explode.

There was the ominous creak of the larger ship drifting to a stop, the clatter of metal and the stomp of footprints. Jee couldn’t see the princess, but he wondered what she was doing now, how she looked.

What could she see, of what was going on?

Turning his attention to the other ship seemed a higher priority, suddenly. Princess Toph would know if anyone was coming for her on deck. It was unlikely she’d know if anyone on the other ship had targeted her.

“General Iroh, Prince Zuko,” Admiral Zhao had a way of speaking that was oil slick and somehow still sticky with implications. “Imagine running into you all the way up here. How’s your hunt for the Avatar?”

“Fine,” the prince ground out. “Was there a reason you requested this stop?”

Hostile was a generous term for the atmosphere between the prince and the admiral. Jee felt himself starting to heat with irritation at Zhao’s smirk. “Oh, I wanted to offer you my congratulations. I’d heard you’d come by another wife.”

His gaze traveled behind Jee to where the princess should be, and Jee forced himself not to turn and look as well. The general said. “That is very gracious,” in a manner so bland it took all of the politeness from the words.

The prince said nothing.

“Are you going to introduce me?” the admiral asked, still smirking at Prince Zuko.

The prince gestured and Jee heard a bit of shuffling before the princess crossed into his vision, hannging on the Sergeant Mao’s arm. Which was…Jee had to fight to keep a straight face. There was no reason for her to be doing that. Or moving so hesitantly.

The prince looked, if possible, more tense, but he didn’t say anything. Not until the princess was just short of level with him, when he turned to the admiral and said, “This is Princess Toph Beifong.” Jee thought he saw the princess’s lips press a little, but she kept a mostly calm face. “Our…guest is Admiral Zhao. He’s in charge of the fleet here in the north”

It was so strange watching the princess hesitate, hearing only the hint of a soft, “Hello.”

It was the admiral who carried the conversation offering, “Ah yes, Beifong. Your father’s contacts have been very helpful at helping us move supplies through to our main forces.”

It felt like it was meant as an insult, but the silence that followed seemed to weigh more heavily on Admiral Zhao than on the princess. Who just stood there and didn’t say anything. Or move, at all.

It was the general who stepped in again, asking, “Is there any news we should be aware of as we travel these waters?”

“No, nothing of note,” the admiral said. “We’ve seen some pirates, but they respect our patrols. I doubt they’re anything that would cause you much trouble if you encountered them. And the Earth Kingdom ships are staying further north and east.” Jee thought he noticed the princess clutching harder at Sergeant Mao’s arm and determine to ask about that as soon as he got a chance. “Oh, and we have some messages for your crew. Since we’d heard you were in the area.”

Private Shiya went to accept the packet from the admiral’s guard while the general said, “Thank you,” glancing at Prince Zuko. “I’m sure you have more important matters to see to and we would hate to take too much of your time.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble,” Admiral Zhao said. “We know we’re the closest to home you ever get.”

The cheerful viciousness cut and burned, even after years of more of the same. Jee kept his face blank, part of his mind wondering at the creak and groan of their ship, almost like it was protesting.

The admiral’s gaze lingered on the princess for a long moment, before he turned back to Prince Zuko, eyes trained on his scar. “It’s seems you’ve been very fortunate in your wife this time around. Her…unique qualities must be a blessing to you both.”

It was a deep relief that Sergeant Mao was still supporting the princess, because if she hadn’t been, she probably would have lit the admiral on fire. And Jee wouldn’t have even tried to stop her. He could see the general having similar thoughts.

“Hopefully you can keep her safe,” the admiral added.

Smoke poured from the prince’s gritted teeth and he took a step forward, hands raising into fists.

“Your fleet’s efforts to keep the ocean safe will certainly help,” the general said, razor edges on the affability, a hand subtly clutching at the prince’s sleeve.

“For the triumph of the Fire Nation,” Admiral Zhao said, crocomander smile stretched across his face.

“Always,” Prince Zuko hissed back, not backing down.

It received another smirk.

Jee was just allowing himself to breathe easier as the admiral moved off of the ship when there a crash and something like a shriek. Which couldn’t have come from the admiral.

But it had to have. Because he’d somehow tripped on the gangplank, and was scrabbling to keep a grip on it as he hung half over the side.

There was a distinct lack of movement from any of Jee’s crew, and it took a couple seconds for the admiral to put his pride aside and allow one of his men to start hauling him up, face flaming red.

The prince had gone from barely withheld rage to vicious delight and even the general had a hand politely covering his mouth.

“Careful,” said the princess, and it was such a perfect balance of helpful and piercing, it carried to the admiral on a voice that was just shy of trembling. “The deck is very slippery.”

It was probably a good thing the admiral was glaring at the princess because hopefully it meant that he missed the look the prince was giving his wife. Jaw slightly slack, eyes wide as they could go, as relaxed as Jee had ever seen the prince in front of the admiral.

The general’s eyes were also slightly wide above his hand.

With a stiff bow, Admiral Zhao practically stormed back to his ship, one of his guard glancing back at the princess as they followed.

Her expression was perfectly earnest, her face only mostly turned to where the sound had come from.

Sergeant Mao was biting her lip to keep a straight face.

No one moved until the admiral’s ship had started gliding forward, Jee taking that as his cue to approach, angling himself to make the princess harder to see from the other deck. He made it just in time to catch the princess saying, “—ing asshole.”

The prince was almost managing a smile. After a visit from Admiral Zhao.

“May I have the sergeant back so she can help clear the ship?” Jee asked, hoping his voice conveyed the full weight of his respect.

The princess let go, asking, “Can they still see us?” and latching onto the prince when Jee nodded. “We don’t run into him much, do we?”

“Not if we can avoid it,” Prince Zuko said, his free hand coming to rest on hers where she was holding him. “He’s…”

“Terrible,” the princess said. “Next time, I’m pushing him overboard.”

A few of the crew chuckled, but from the look on the princess’s face—and the general’s—she probably meant it.

Jee decided he could keep that to himself.

Chapter Text

“Okay, but seriously,” Toph said, as the door closed, “what was his problem?”

Zuko paused. “I don’t know. He’s always hated me.”

Hate was the wrong word, Toph thought. Zuko hated Zhao, for sure. But all Toph could think was that the nasty little mud slick that had oozed his way across the ship didn’t hate Zuko. The sneer in his voice and the sharp jabs at Zuko’s weak spots was all contempt.

They weren’t unrelated, but they weren’t the same. And it seemed like a shame that Zuko didn’t know the difference.

“I vote that next time we don’t let him on the ship,” Toph said, and not just because she was currently banished to her room until they had scoured the ship for any stowaways.

There weren’t any. At least not that Toph could feel. But Zuko would probably make everyone check anyway, so no reason to bring it up.

“That’s…not really an option,” Zuko said.

“Why?”

It was less weird to have Zuko’s full attention than it used to be, but still kind of intense. “Petty things, mostly. Like holding our messages, or sending bad information our way. Or, if he knows where we’re going, chasing pirates our direction.”

“Seriously?” That wasn’t petty. That wasn’t even just rude. That was malicious, even if Zuko had enough crew members to handle it.

“Yeah. That’s why we don’t tell him much. So then he fills the silence.”

With his oversized, contemptuous ego. Great. “He was lying about the Earth Kingdom ships,” Toph said, wondering how Zuko would take that.

Surprised, she thought, but more curious than suspicious when he asked, “How do you know that?”

“I could tell.” And when that didn’t get any answer, “It’s something I can read with my bending. People’s heartbeat and breathing change when they lie.”

“Oh.”

He was quiet, maybe even a little breathless as he said it, so she asked, “Is that a problem?”

“No,” Zuko said. “Why would that be a problem?”

“Dunno,” Toph shrugged. “Some people lie more than others.”

That did make him uncomfortable. Between the stiff shifting from foot to foot, he asked, “Was that the only thing he lied about?”

“Well, anything where he was pretending he wasn’t being rude was at least half a lie,” Toph said. “But I don’t think you missed any of those. Just the ships, I think, were what stood out.”

Scrubbing a hand over his face, Zuko asked, “He was serious about the pirates being something we could handle?”

“I think so,” Toph said. “Or he didn’t care. Some lies are harder to catch if they’re less…intentional?”

She shouldn’t be telling him this, was her first thought. But it was quickly followed by, what could it hurt? Zuko didn’t lie to her, not really. And it didn’t tell him much about her bending that he couldn’t have guessed at this point. He had to have a much better sense of what she could “see” now that they’d been on land where there was something for her to look at.

“That’s good to know,” Zuko said. Followed by. “I’m sorry. For what he said about you.”

Not sure how to feel about that, Toph said, “It’s fine. He was way more rude to you. I don’t think he cared much about me, one way or another.”

There was something that sounded like a smile in Zuko’s voice when he said, “I don’t know. I think he cared that you kicked him when he was already down. Especially in front of his men.”

He hadn’t noticed her bending, Toph thought. That was good. She hadn’t been sure that was going to work, and had hoped no one had been paying attention to her fingers. With more practice she might be able to pull tricks like that with just her toes. But not yet.

“Seemed like a just reciprocity,” Toph said, wiggling said toes to avoid shifting. “He’s…”

She had words that were rude enough to convey what she was thinking, but she didn’t know if they were malicious enough.

Thankfully, it seemed like Zuko understood her. He murmured, “Yeah…” with a half glance towards the door.

There was that weird feeling in the room again. Where it felt like something was happening and Toph hadn’t quite grasped it. So she asked, “Will we be stuck in here long?”

Zuko had excluded Uncle from this quarantine, and Toph wasn’t sure if it was for her sake or not. But it did mean she was stuck alone with Zuko until this was over.

“Hopefully not. The crew’s pretty quick with the sweeps at this point. And it would be hard for Zhao to deny involvement if something happened right after we left him.” That didn’t sound as comforting as Zuko might have meant, but Toph couldn’t place why. “We’re just…making sure. To be safe.”

When Toph didn’t answer, Zuko took a step towards her, his hand half reaching as he said, “It shouldn’t be too long.”

“Okay,” Toph said, finding a seat on her bed. When Zuko didn’t move, she added, “That’s fine.”

It was several minutes, the silence stretching from something awkward into something almost comfortable when Zuko asked, “What did Uncle say to you?”

“Not much,” Toph said, and when that went over about as well as a cave in, she added, “He just doesn’t like us fighting.”

“It’s none of his business,” Zuko grumbled. “He didn’t need to bother you about it.”

“I don’t mind,” Toph said, knowing it was partly a lie, but wanting this to be over with. “You’re his nephew. He wants to look after you.”

“You’re his niece now,” Zuko said. “He should be looking after you too.”

Which left Toph with the question, what had Uncle said to Zuko?

Jee was sent to inform the general of the all clear, and while the prince hadn’t been frowning too much as he’d said it, it still wasn’t a great sign.

Not that Prince Zuko’s tantrums had much impact on the general at this point. Which was worrying. General Iroh had become so numb to all forms of whining and growling and screaming from the prince, it was likely to have the general stepping wrong when Prince Zuko managed a flash of temper that wasn’t just an airing of petty grievance.

And this was a very small ship.

“We’ve been given the all clear, general,” Jee said, longing to ask, “What did you say to her?”

Because the prince might be a firecracker, ready to pop at the first sign of a spark. But the princess was not. And while her temper came at odd times that everyone was still learning, it didn’t spike in the way the prince’s did. Didn’t pinch and haunt her like it did her husband.

She could be talked down from it. She could accept an apology.

Which meant, when there was a tension at the breakfast table the next morning, a frigid politeness that had even the prince muted and wary, the general hadn’t offered one.

And that did not bode well.

Toph curled up tighter on her mattress, pressing her face in and hoping that would push the headache out.

It didn’t work. It just made the cacophonous vibrations from the floor louder, and her stomach started rolling back and forth again. That mixed with the waves beating against the walls and the slashing drum of the rain made everything fuzzy, loud, and echoing.

Toph hated storms.

Even while trying to drown out all the feelings around her, Toph couldn’t miss Zuko showing up, creeping over to the bed and kneeling next to her. There was a warm hand on the back of her neck when he asked, “Toph, are you okay?”

Her whine into the mattress didn’t seem to surprise him. But Toph was surprised when his fingers started making soothing circles at her neck, trying to relieve the tension. It didn’t take any of the discomfort away, but it was something to concentrate on besides the misery.

Then a wet sleeve brushed her cheek and Toph recoiled. She definitely did not yelp.

She only partially caught the “—sorry, I’m sorry…” and then he was gone. Not gone gone, but away from her, moving around the room and causing a new wave of vibrations, just out of step with the others, as the ship rolled and rocked.

She pulled tighter in on herself, trying to keep her breathing even and hoping that her stomach would settle. There was no way to know how long it would be like this. How much storm they would have to endure before Toph could see and feel and hear without wanting to be sick all over herself.

Zuko was kneeling beside her again, his hand back against her neck, when he asked, “Can you move? You need to be off the floor.”

And he was right, but, “Where?” Toph managed to hiss out. Because there wasn’t anywhere on the ship she could go that wasn’t metal.

“Come on,” Zuko said, grabbing her arm and tugging her up. “I’ll get you off the floor. Here.”

The rocking didn’t stop when he got her half hanging into his lap. But the echoing of the ship dropped and Toph’s head cleared a little.

And he was warm.

Moving made things worse, but Toph bit her lip and helped Zuko tuck her into his lap, pressing her face into his shoulder and pulling in as much as she could. Zuko got a blanket around her, tucking it in around her feet and legs, making sure it was pulled up as far as it could go by her neck.

The ship rocked and rocked, and Toph felt Zuko shifting, rocking with it to keep his balance. But it was better, where the vibrations couldn’t reach and she could anchor herself to Zuko’s breath and heartbeat.

She’d almost drifted off to sleep when she managed to mutter, “Thanks, Sparky.”

Chapter Text

When Toph woke up there were still lingering traces of a headache, but she didn’t hurt as much as she would have expected given how tightly she was curled up.

And she was really, really warm.

Still in Zuko’s lap, face tucked in by his neck, toes pressing into his leg, Toph took the lack of rocking as a sign the worst of the storm had probably passed. Zuko wasn’t moving though. His breathing was deep, slow, and even, a sure sign that he was meditating.

She could just barely feel his heartbeat, slow and steady, against the back of her fingers as they rested against his chest.

The floor was warmer than she expected when she slid her feet free to press them down against the metal, so he must have been meditating for a while. There was a hitch the moment that she moved, and an extra-long breath as his heart sped up slightly.

“Hey,” he whispered, and his breath was hot against the top of her head. “You okay?”

Shifting a little to check for any cramping, Toph felt Zuko’s arms slide just a bit lower as she resettled her weight. “Yeah. I think so.”

“Good,” he said, and it was possibly the most sincere she had ever heard him. Not just relieved but almost…happy? Did Zuko do happy? Was that a thing? “I’m glad this worked.”

All at once it was humiliating. She hadn’t thought about it when she’d been so sick and disoriented during the storm, but he was holding her almost like she was a baby, and that was just stupid.

“Sure,” she said, pushing against him so she could slide off his lap and settle on the floor. He was slow letting go of her, but she didn’t hold it against him. She’d been pretty out of it when he’d found her and she was still waking up. The support was polite.

He was leaning towards her as he asked, “You’re sure you’re okay?”

Was rubbing her temples that bad of a sign? Did she look weird? “Yup. I think,” she tested the thought for a moment, “I’m even hungry.”

She hadn’t wanted to eat for days last time. Just a touch of headache and a little bit of cramping in her legs, but otherwise Toph was good.

Maybe it was okay? That she’d looked so stupid?

“Would you like to do it again the next time there’s a storm?” Zuko asked, his hands flexing on his knees.

“Sure, if it’s bad enough.” Sometimes they just got rain. She wouldn’t need him for that. Then, because that might have sounded too mean, and she did appreciate it, “That’d be nice.”

“Okay.”

He didn’t say anything else, just watched her as she stretched out her legs and arms. It got unnerving after a bit, so Toph asked, “Was it okay? That you were here the whole time?’

“Yes. The crew knows how to handle the ship during a storm. Sometimes extra hands help, but they were fine and I was worried…” He got warm again as he trailed off. Probably embarrassed, although Toph didn’t know why. She was the one who’d been a miserable lump on her bed.

“Well thanks. That was way better than last time.”

“You’re welcome.”

It was warm and sincere again and Toph didn’t really know what to do with that, so she just shrugged and said, “I should probably tidy my bed.”

“Oh, right,” he said, scrambling off. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” She wobbled as she stood, skidding a little on the blanket as it slipped under her feet. Zuko’s hands were suddenly on her shoulders, helping her balance.

“Sorry,” he said again, practically jumping back the moment she was stable.

Bundling the blanket, Toph said, “It’s still fine,” wondering what he was waiting for as he kept staring at her.

Thankfully, there was a knock on the door, and Jee called out, “Sir.”

And Zuko had more important things to focus on than her. Which was a huge relief.

“Okay,” Toph said, smoothing out the stone into a flat wall. “Let’s see how hard you have to hit this to break it.”

She couldn’t get it very thick with as much rock as she had. Only the width of a few fingers. So when Zuko’s first fireball completely shattered it, Toph wasn’t especially surprised, even though he hadn’t been close to hitting as hard as he could.

He seemed surprised though, which worried her a little.

“Was it supposed to do that?’ Zuko checked, coming towards her.

Toph waved him back, swept her arms wide and then curled them in, gathering all the pieces and rolling them back together. They’d broken more from the force of impact than heat, which was good. Not too melty. “Yup. I was only holding it up with the bending, not together. Otherwise what would be the point?”

“Most earthbenders I face wouldn’t be holding the earth they use together?” Zuko asked.

Toph paused, holding several half assembled fragments hovering over the deck. “Dunno. It’s probably more work than it’s worth if they’re throwing something at you. But if they were trying to block you, yeah, they should put their bending behind it. Or if they wanted to trap or hold you? If they were smart they’d make sure to hold it. Just in case you got tricky.”

“So this would be more accurate if you were holding it together?”

“Maybe,” Toph conceded. But she was really good. When he’d been throwing things at her the other day she’d been holding and he hadn’t broken through. “I think it’s good to stick with this for now though. See how you can do with just rocks, and then see how much you’d need to change that in combat?”

She’d never practiced bending this way before, aside from the last time that they’d messed around. Working with a partner, never mind someone with a different element, was as new for her as living on a ship. Newer, at this point. Hopefully she wasn’t leading him astray.

But Uncle was watching from the sidelines, carefully quiet, not saying anything. So this probably wasn’t a disaster.

Yet.

“Alright, we’ll keep doing this,” Zuko said. “But I broke it on my first try, so what’s next?”

“How small of a target can you hit?” Toph asked.

“At this distance? Pretty small. Unless we get a really nasty wind.”

“Like, this small?” Toph asked, holding her two hands up next to each other, palms flat. Then she dropped one and curled the other into a fist. “Or this small?”

“Definitely the first, maybe the second,” Zuko said after a moment. “Although, I don’t know if I can hit them dead center.”

Smiling, Toph smooshed her hand and made a target, hovering it at about his shoulder height. “Well, let’s find out.”

His, “Okay,” sounded like he almost might have been smiling himself.

“Is she insane?” Yan demanded, backing towards the stairs.

Shiya rolled her eyes, leaning around the doorway for a better look. “Hardly. He’s not aiming at her.”

The princess was standing in the line of fire though, technically. Sure, the general was seated by her, close enough that he could probably at least mitigate a stray fireball if it swung dangerously right. But it was a pretty big sign of trust, on both the royal’s parts, that they were doing this sort of target practice at all, never mind with the princess potentially in harm’s way.

“The prince has more than enough control of his fire to practice like this,” Mao said, pushing Yan out of her way as she came down the stairs. “And the princess has plenty of rocks at her feet still. They’ll be fine.”

“It’s just wrong,” Yan complained, and Shiya found herself catching Mao’s attention and rolling her eyes. The sergeant didn’t say anything, but she did smile as the prince’s third fireball managed to shatter the princess’s target.

“Benders bend,” Shiya said, glancing back at Yan. “You do this sort of thing all the time.”

“With other firebenders,” he complained. “She’s getting rocks all over the deck.”

“The prince is getting rocks all over the deck,” Mao corrected. “And this is his ship. He can do that if he wants to.”

And he did seem to want to. He got through the next few targets in only one or two hits as well. It was starting to look like he was showing off.

Which…maybe. Shiya rolled that thought around for a bit, testing it. On the one hand, it seemed so unlike him. Prince Zuko hated—well maybe not hated, but treated his bending with the same practical indifference he did eating. Or sleeping. Or having fun. It wasn’t a game to him, and certainly not something he should use to show off.

He’d never done so for Princess Lian.

But then, Princess Lian had never really given Prince Zuko many opportunities to show off. Their marriage had been…cold. The sort of thing you expect from court marriages, only trapped on an outdated naval vessel instead of framed in the walls and gardens of a palace.

Princess Toph wasn’t exactly affectionate with the prince. But things were definitely warmer between them.

And that spin kick to cut the last target in half was definitely showing off.

It had worked too, if the princess’s excited inspection of the two rocks was any indication.

Yan huffed and muttered something before slinking back up the stairs, but Mao stayed next to Shiya, watching the prince blow stuff up and the princess laugh when the dust got in the general’s tea.

Chapter Text

Toph fell back onto the deck, trying to catch her breath and aching in all of the best possible ways.

“Okay. That was fun.”

“I nearly knocked you off the ship.”

“First off, no you didn’t,” Toph told Zuko, accepting the hand he offered to haul her back up. When she was balanced, she poked his chest and added, “And we want you to be able to knock people off the ship. That’s the whole point of practicing.”

“I think we need to stop again,” Zuko said, shaking his head. “I don’t think these rocks are lasting as long.”

No complaint from Toph for that plan. They’d made two short stops on small islands to let her pick up new rocks and get some bending practice in. Zuko had even relented and let Uncle go a round with her, which would have been more fun if he’d been putting more effort in. Still, she wasn’t going to say no to another stop.

“Sounds good.”

“Of course it does.” There was actually a touch of teasing in his tone, and Toph bumped his shoulder to reward it.

“I guess sometimes you do have good ideas,” she said.

“More than sometimes.”

“Hmm, nah. Just sometimes.”

She rounded it out with a quick grab at his hair. She couldn’t tell exactly where it was, but she got close enough to grab a bit and give a friendly tug.

Zuko lit up like the furnace.

“What?” Toph asked. That wasn’t what she had expected. It should have been blustering or muttering.

“What do you mean, ‘What?’” Zuko stuttered.

Was Mao snickering?

“You’re weird,” Toph said. “Let me know when you figure out when we’re landing.”

Firebenders. Honestly.

The furnace was as hot as ever, but Toph was getting used to the thickness of the air down here.

Lei was coughing less, she thought, which was another improvement. Though that might have been because Toph had been practicing with the coal dust, finding ways to compact it, move it, create less of it when she was playing with larger pieces.

All for helping with her metal bending, of course.

It was Chihiro that asked, “Are you still angry? About the Temple?”

Too good to drop any of the coal she was holding, Toph still had to freeze to make sure she didn’t make a mess.

“Do I look angry?”

Lei sighed at his place by the furnace.

Chihiro said, “No, but you don’t get angry like the prince or the general. Sometimes it’s hard to be sure.” She started tossing a piece of coal up and down. “Sometimes…you’re quiet.”

Like when she’d first come on the ship.

Or now, when she was avoiding Uncle. When he’d been the only person she would speak to back then.

“I’m not always mad when I’m quiet,” Toph said, working on compacting some of the coal she had just moved. It could be tighter. “And I’m not always quiet when I’m mad.”

“You used to be quiet at the prince and loud with the general,” Chihiro said, tossing her piece of coal to Toph. “Now you’re quiet with the general and loud with the prince.”

“I guess.”

The tension and sighs from Chihiro were probably frustration. But Toph could have sworn Lei was smiling.

Toph didn’t normally have bad dreams. Weird ones, or nostalgic ones. Sometimes she had ones where she was floating and couldn’t see or feel anything and didn’t know where she was or what was going to happen to her.

But those were uncomfortable dreams, not bad ones.

So she wasn’t sure what to do with this one.

“Toph?”

Go figure Zuko was already awake. Light sleeper, maybe he’d had bad dreams of his own. “‘M fine.”

There was the creaking and gentle rocking of the ship all around her. Normally that would have bothered Toph, but the flex and heave pushed the dream further back, made here more real.

There was a very quiet, very careful, “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she snapped.

Which normally would have been enough, but Zuko said, “You’re crying.”

Touching her fingers to her face, Toph felt the wetness. “Huh.” And now she could feel it on her face, and she hadn’t before. That was new.

She scrubbed at them, but the tears weren’t stopping. They kept slipping out and down, speckling her night clothes and occasionally hitting the floor with a wet plink.

When Zuko’s fingers brushed her cheeks, interrupting the rough strokes, Toph couldn’t say if it was embarrassment or insanity that had her leaning into him, hiding her face against his shoulder as she fought to calm her breathing, pressing her fists into the metal floor to ground herself. All she knew was that she didn’t pull back when the tears stopped. Or when she felt Zuko, in a series of aborted moves, start rubbing small circles against her back.

It would be smart to pull back, to end this.

But there was something Toph wanted as she burrowed a little more into him. Something that wasn’t the song of the waves against the hull. Something that was large and warm and purring, the heavy thump of a heart as large as her head beating a rhythm she could fall asleep to while she curled into a furry side.

Zuko’s heart was beating much faster than a badgermole’s, but he was almost warmer to cuddle against.

He was quiet too, which was a good and bad thing. On the one hand, Toph had loved the lullaby of heavy breaths and resonating purrs from her teachers. On the other hand, if Zuko made any noise just now, it probably would have been to ask questions.

And Toph didn’t want to answer them.

That was motivation enough to finally pull away, mumbling a, “Sorry.”

There was a long moment where Zuko stayed, hand almost reaching for her face again, before he said, “It’s fine.” And then, after a swallow, “Can you—will you be able to sleep?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright.” A deep breath as he rocked back a bit, but otherwise didn’t move. “Alright.”

And then he was gone, slipping back into his bed, curling on his side to face the wall.

Toph…was too tired to think about that.

It was getting easier to feel the exact speed of the ship as it slowed approaching shore, giving Toph a clear idea of how soon they would drift to a stop, when the grinding of the ramps lowering would begin. Easy enough that Toph found herself tapping her toes, trying to see if she could get a sense of where the seabed was. There were definitely vibrations echoing off the ship, but they dissolved into the useless fuzz of water too quickly for her to notice anything.

It was frustrating.

“We should be getting off soon,” Zuko whispered, leaning a little in her direction. He’d been focused on her all morning, even more than usual.

Coming up with a plan to make him forget last night would be irritating, but it was as good a distraction as any while she was waiting. In the meantime she said, “I know. I’ve been ready since yesterday.”

There was an awkward shift, but he didn’t say anything else.

He was as rigid as slate now though, and Toph could resist jabbing an elbow into his side when no one was looking.

Gently, of course.

There were the telltale vibrations of Zuko jumping a bit and turning to her, probably to glare. The hissing puff of an almost sigh. The twitch of his fingers, clamped behind his back, as he resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose.

In a much better mood, Toph made sure her face was schooled into the most demure, polite grin as possible.

It earned a huffed chuckle and Toph thought today might not be a complete loss.

The general wasn’t leaning against the rail of the ship, which would have been beneath him, but he was standing as close as he could. Jee fell in at a polite distance, his own gaze immediately tracking to the nose of the ship where the prince and princess were disembarking.

“Another stop,” the general mused quietly. “I wonder if this will become a new habit.”

Which implied that the prince wasn’t consulting with his uncle over the changes. Which implied they were still…not fighting. The prince wasn’t subtle about that. But in whatever spat was continuing between the princess and the general, the prince had taken his wife’s side. 

And as much as he respected the general, Jee didn’t really disagree with the prince’s choice.

“Change isn’t always a bad thing,” Jee suggested. He knew he shouldn’t get involved, this wasn’t his problem. But it could become his problem if things escalated. “We’ve got maybe a couple of grumblers, but the crew seems to like changes. Breaks up the monotony a bit. Sir.”

The general gave a long-suffering sigh. “It is true. Some of these changes have been quite good.” He frowned a little before he said, “Do you think—“

But what the general wondered was lost when the princess stepped onto the beach, froze, and two seconds later the prince was between her and the inland. All of the guards that were with them had also tensed and were sliding into more defensive positions.

“What do you think—“ Jee asked, but there was a brief conference between the prince and princess, some gesturing on her part, and then they were moving up the shoreline. At a healthy clip and with lots of eyes still inland. But away from the ship.

Jee turned and called out to Seaman Huang, “Get me Sergeant Shun.”

Jee felt more than saw the general’s stance shifting, the air warming around them as his breathing steadied and deepened.

Chapter Text

Toph really should have expected this.

“They weren’t here last time,” Yan was whining, and it was worse than a waste of time. It was making Zuko angry, and he was already half melting the ground he was standing on.

Which was sand, and he really needed it to not be even less stable.

It was hard to stand with the cover she had made to block the arrows she couldn’t see, but Toph stretched enough that she could slam a foot down and crush her fists, making their section of beach a little firmer. It made Yan and Mao almost lose their footing, but Zuko—

Didn’t even hesitate. Like the psycho he was, he used the solid ground to launch himself like a lunatic towards the half dozen pirates with swords trying to charge them.

The ship wasn’t close, but Toph was pretty sure she could hear Jee swearing.

She could definitely hear Shiya.

“Please don’t follow him,” Shiya begged.

“I’m not crazy,” Toph snapped, shoving and yanking the sand at the pirates’ feet, making two of them trip.

Mao’s yell was more amused than angry as she blasted one of them.

Toph made sure not to look too closely.

Instead she threw her focus further out. Six charging close, four more hanging back—two with bows, one with a sling, one…

Okay, she wasn’t sure about the last one. They were pointing and shouting orders, but were too far off, especially with the fire roaring by Toph’s ears, to hear.

There were more bowmen further back, Toph knew. She’d felt the people in front as soon as she’d hit the beach, had told Zuko. But they’d been far enough off she’d thought they’d be okay to have her grab some rocks and run.

At least she’d been smart enough to be paying attention. Even if the two bowman she’d been tracking hadn’t fired at her, she’d at least felt the arrowhead from the person she couldn’t see early enough to throw up a wall before it hit Zuko.

And good thing she was getting better at spotting earth in weird places, because the bastard nearly got shot again the moment he tried charging the leader. The wall Toph threw up was too close, and Zuko ended up having to block the heat wash from his own fireball, but at least it caught the arrows he had completely missed.

“Come on,” Mao yelled. “Head for the ship.”

There were fireballs landing coming from that direction. If Jee and Uncle were providing cover, now was as good a time to move as any.

Toph moved her arms as they ran, keeping a loose sand wall between them and their opponents. Cover fire was good, but this had to be better and it was easy enough to do.

And if Zuko had just sat still for a half second before firing off like a rocket, he wouldn’t be on the wrong side.

He was retreating now, which was a slight improvement, but the sand was sucking at his shoes. He wouldn’t make it at the same time they would, and Toph didn’t know how hard it would be to bend for him once she hit metal again. It was new and sand was still not her thing.

So she stopped just before running up, scooped with her hand and pulled, making a cradle and half carried, half threw Zuko to them.

He yelped, so he ate some sand as she shoved him through her cover, dropping him between Mao and Yan. But he got to his feet pretty quickly even as he was coughing it out.

And the half second delay was enough time for Toph to grab the stones she’d found while watching the pirates, throwing them hard enough they flew past Yan and Mao, into the ship.

“Hey!” Jee shouted as they ran up.

“I do not believe you,” Shiya said.

“That I’m not crazy?” Toph knew she was smiling too big and didn’t care. “Why on earth not?”

The ship groaned as the nose was lifted closed, but it didn’t hide Mao’s sniggers.

“Is everyone alright?” Zuko asked, looking mostly at Toph.

“I’m good,” she said, brushing her clothes with a snapping motion, making all of the sand fall to the floor. “I got what we came for.”

“Oh that’s nice,” Shiya mumbled.

“Here,” Toph said, tapping her toes and slashing her hands down. She got most of the sand out on the first go, but it was a bit tricky with how the armor made Shiya’s clothes gather. Two more quick flicks got pretty much all the rest.

Satisfied, Toph asked, “Anyone else?”

Mao looked to Zuko for a second before saying, “Please, Princess.”

The title was annoying, but Zuko was there, so not annoying enough Toph wouldn’t lend a hand.

“Anyone else?”

She waved in Zuko and Yan’s general direction.

Zuko still wasn’t saying anything, but he was looking at Yan now. Who shifted a bunch before saying, “No thank you. Princess.”

Which was somehow twice as annoying as how Mao had said it. Annoying enough it got Zuko’s attention, making him tense and warm again.

Which wouldn’t do. Toph didn’t expect everyone on the ship to like her. So she said, “Okay. What about you, Sparky?”

As usual, the nickname got Zuko’s attention. He was a bit stiff with his, “Yes, please,” but he wasn’t about to pounce on Yan anymore, and that was good enough for Toph.

So she cleaned Zuko up too, finishing right about the time Jee showed up.

“Princess,” he began, long suffering dripping off the word, “when you throw rocks at m—the ship—“

“I wasn’t going to waste our trip,” Toph said. “Who knows how far we’ll have to go now, to get away from those guys. And it’s better if I have more rocks if we run into them again.”

All perfectly valid points. She felt Jee slumping a little as he listened.

“It was an emergency,” Jee conceded.

“It could have been much worse,” Zuko added. “Thank you, Toph. You really helped.”

“Of course,” she said, feeling her face get warm. “Any time.”

She bopped her fist against his shoulder, and not because she was trying to prove to herself how easy it was.

She noticed Uncle watching from the stairwell, stiff and silent.

Jee had finished issuing orders for investigating the ship and cataloguing the damage. They'd been unbelievably lucky that things hadn't ended with more casualties than the prince being mildly singed by his own flames. And that damage had been more to his clothes than to his person. With as many opponents as had been on the island, that could have been a catastrophe.

An unforgivable one.

The tension the prince was carrying was familiar, and it was heartbreaking. Jee could admit that. They were getting to a point where there were more easy days than difficult ones. Where the prince and princess weren't just existing in the same place, but living together. Practicing. Thriving. Agni's blessing to royal blood was finally starting to shine through, to grow in ways that the prince's bending just hadn't in the past.

And while the princess was growing daily to be more of a terror, she was their terror, their princess. Possibly the most honorable, worthy match the prince could have hoped for.

Maybe...maybe their prayers had been answered.

But the prince was tense again, listening to Mao's report and flexing his fists, the lamps flicking up and down, up and down.

"It was reckless to continue when she realized you weren't alone," General Iroh said, disapproval deep in his voice and the furrow of his brow. "You were dangerously outnumbered and—“

"She made sure she said something," Sergeant Mao dared to interrupt, which had the general blinking. "I've already talked to her, and she's promised to always keep us informed, and to give us more details in the future. She does need a generous amount of earth on board to stay healthy, and we're willing to take some risks to see that our princess has what she needs."

There was a slight loosening of the prince's shoulders before he said, "You said there were no injuries."

"None," Sergeant Mao confirmed. "She had us behind that cover from the moment of the first attack. I won't say we were never in danger, but she was more than adequate for the task of protecting herself, and didn't endanger herself by extending that security to us. She's an incredible bender, Your Highness. It's an honor to serve her."

Which was as blatant a declaration of loyalty as any of them could make at this point, and most of the lingering tension faded from the prince. Hope, a look Jee hadn't thought he'd ever see on that boy's face, was starting to creep through.

"Thank you for staying with her and ensuring her safety," Prince Zuko said, and Seaman Huang's mouth dropped open a little. "Have we finished a search of the ship?”

"A first pass," Jee inserted himself into the conversation, bowing slightly. "We'll do a more thorough look through the lower levels now that we have some distance and it looks like we aren't being followed."

They would have wanted every available hand on deck if that had been the case. Possibly including the princess, and that... That was something Jee should probably try and get the general to discuss with the prince. Jee might have Prince Zuko's professional respect at this point, but he could sabotage that easily by suggesting something that might endanger the princess.

Even if it could guarantee the safety of the ship and crew.

But the general was still fighting with the princess, which meant by extension he was still fighting with the prince.

Hopefully they would sort that out before it became a threat. If they didn’t…

Jee admired and respected the general. But he would seriously consider dropping him overboard if he couldn't handle making amends. And Jee might not even regret it. At all.

It wasn't until she was curling up in her bed, nestling into her stone pillow, that Toph realized it hadn't crossed her mind, even once, that she could have tried to run.

There had been people, armed and capable, and she hadn't even considered trying to ask them for help.

In the safety of the cabin, after everything that had happened, Toph could acknowledge that she'd objectively made the best choice. They were pirates, they had a wooden boat according to people with working eyes, and they hadn't required almost any provocation to start attacking. It might have been because Zuko's crew was so obviously Fire Nation, but...pirates. Toph was pretty sure that didn't really matter.

So it had been the right choice, obviously.

But it hadn't really been a choice at all. Toph hadn't even considered any other course of action. She'd immediately sensed people on the island and had drawn closer to Mao and Shiya, trusting them to be reliable eyes for any dangers Toph couldn't account for.

She'd stepped closer to Zuko, by making that choice. Which was the most frightening thing of all.

The truth was, Toph liked Zuko, when he wasn't being an idiot. He could be funny, mostly on accident, and he was pretty honest, and he respected her, and he hadn't pushed her very much as far as this whole being his wife thing. Frankly, given how freaked out her mother had been, how grim her father had stayed during that horrific journey to the wedding, Toph had pretty much won as far as getting a good husband.

Except, he was Toph's husband. And while everyone might be politely ignoring some of the details of that right now, that wasn't going to last forever. Zuko was getting more comfortable—Toph was getting more comfortable—being in a shared space, and someday…

Toph wasn't stupid. Just because they hadn't talked about it—yet—didn't mean they never would.

As comfortable as she was, as happy as she felt, Toph knew that she couldn't just wait for that day to happen. She needed to cut it off before it had a chance to ruin everything that she had built from the rubble and ashes of her parents' choices.

She couldn't stay here. Not forever. She had to go.

Chapter Text

Zuko woke her up at what he claimed was dawn, saying "There's something I want to show you."

"That's not really gonna work, you know," Toph yawned as she flapped a hand at him to shoo.

It earned a soft huff, but Zuko didn't budge, waiting patiently for Toph to groan, throw off her covers, and roll onto the floor. Zuko had skipped back just enough that she didn't crush his feet, but he was still looking directly down at her. "It's worth it. I promise."

Toph groaned again, but levered herself up into a sitting position. "If I say yes, do I get to go back to bed after?”

"Of course."

The air was still chilly when they made their way onto the deck. Toph was frowning at the scattering of rocks she could feel everywhere, not any more enlightened than she'd been upstairs. "What—“

"There was something in the records we got at the Air Temple," Zuko said, quiet and rushed. "They had rituals, for meditating on different kinds of changes. Things to help process the transitory nature of life or something. Chimes to track the beginning and end of storms, festivals in their gardens for the changing seasons. Small things. One of them was a sunrise mediation, with mirrors."

Which sort of explained…absolutely nothing actually.

"Those aren't mirrors," Toph said.

"You can't see mirrors," Zuko pointed out. "But I can show you the sunrise, watch."

He wasn't wrong about the first part. But Toph could already feel the sun rising, touching the lower edge of the ship, warming the metal slightly. It wouldn't be long before it slid over the rail and onto the deck.

A spark of fire flared over one of the rocks for just a second, white hot to Toph's senses, and then suddenly cold again. "Um."

"Mirrors sparkle," Zuko said. "And shine. The mediation used mirrors to direct the light and show how quickly it moved. It was supposed to be a way to lighten thoughts and inspire progress. I need to practice holding flames without fuel, and I thought, even if you couldn't see a mirror…”

He sounded a lot less sure the longer he talked.

And the truth was, Toph wasn't super excited about mediation. She could do it. It had been almost the only thing she'd been allowed to do with her instructors for years.

But Zuko was sharing something he had learned with her, and honestly, the little spark had been kind of cool. She was a little curious to see how he tried to capture the movement of the sunlight. "How will you decide what to heat up?"

"I'll be working on sensing the ambient heat. Places on the stones that are warming up more quickly I'll increase the heat. It's not exactly like how the mirrors work, but it should be pretty interesting. I think."

"You can sense that level of ambient heat?" Toph knew Chihiro could gauge the boiler temperature with pinpoint accuracy, and could tell if the water in the pipes was too cool, suggesting a flow issue she could mention to Rishi. But where the sun was hitting strongest on a rock?

"Can't you?" Zuko asked. "When you're touching the stones?”

"Depends on how many rocks I'm touching and how closely I'm examining them," Toph admitted. "I just didn't realize you could."

"I'm working on it," Zuko confessed. "I never really thought about it before, and I haven't quite figured out if it would be useful. But your level of awareness of your element is just…” He flexed a little, growing a little warm beside her as he murmured, "You protected us yesterday. You were prepared. I know I missed out on a lot of training opportunities spending so much time away from the caldera. Spending so much time on control." The words sounded like they were being squeezed out of him, like they were being crushed. "I never would have thought of this on my own. But I want to do better. You're always learning new things. I can too."

It sounded like a promise. Which…wasn't what Toph had expected. That her bending, her expertise would inspire someone. She'd barely been allowed to be a bender at all, in front of her family. She'd been creative as a Rumbler, but at the end of the day those had been show fights. A lot of things Toph could do were quieter, more subtle. She still remembered being told the crowds just didn't find her that interesting anymore. They wanted more oomph.

This was…kind of nice.

Even if she had been dragged out of her bed too early.

"Okay," Toph said. "Where do you want me?”

They ended up sitting side by side on the deck, near the tower. The sun was just creeping towards the first stones when Toph had managed to get comfortable. There were a few moments where nothing happened, and then there was flame, crackling over one of the furthest rocks, the heat pulsing strong enough it penetrated the stone beyond the surface quickly.

Toph spent the next hour watching stone after stone light up, watching those narrow spikes of heat crawl through the stones as the sun climbed higher and higher, only occasionally wavering.

Had Zuko been practicing this before and this was just the first time he was showing her?

Toph let the thought spark, hot and deep, for a moment, before it slid away into cool darkness.

She could think about that later. Right now, she wanted to see if she could start guessing where Zuko would light the fires next.

When Toph woke from her late morning nap, having waited until after breakfast to get the last of her sleep, Uncle was waiting in the usual sitting room, tea waiting to be prepared. No one else was nearby. Not even Zuko.

"Am I interrupting?" Toph asked, ready to run. She wasn't awake enough yet to have another argument. She'd get loud far too quickly.

"I was waiting for you," Uncle said. "Would you care to join me?"

"Why not," Toph slid as gracefully as she could into the seat across from him.

One of the real downsides to fighting with Uncle was missing out on extra tea. She missed it.

"I see you and my nephew spent some time together this morning."

"Glad to hear your eyes still work," Toph said.

Uncle chuckled, which meant he was either in a good mood, or willing to be humored. It was a little hard to tell. The cushion that he was sitting on muted him slightly, though Toph got the impression that he was more than a little stiff. "Did you enjoy the surprise?”

"I was impressed," Toph confessed. "I'm still not much of a morning person, but it was nice of him to show me that. It was interesting."

There was the barest hint of disappointed slumping from Uncle. "I assume you told him as much."

"I said thank you," Toph wasn't about to tell Uncle more than she'd told Zuko. "I said we could do it again, but I wanted a heads up the night before."

Which seemed to make Uncle perk up slightly. "You're willing to do it again?"

"I just said that."

"I wish to make sure I understand,” Uncle said, pouring their cups. "I know this is no small thing, for either of you, being married. And my whole desire is that it will be a comfort and happiness to you both.”

Toph felt her eyes narrowing, a sense of something smothering her creeping up her neck and down her arms. "I'm not sure what that has to do with this morning. We've been getting along just fine for weeks now. Unless you know something I don't about Fire Nation marriages and sunrises…”

"In the more lavish weddings, or even for more simple ones where there are fewer constraints, certain parts of the ceremony are, in fact, done at sunrise. There is much symbolism, and beauty, in a dawn."

"I'll have to take your word for it," Toph said, taking a sip.

"You feel nothing when the sun rises? When the world starts to turn warm again."

Toph felt plenty when the sun rose. The light, even if she couldn't see it, the heat, were signals. Just before dawn there was a shift, like a slow inhale, as the world began to wake. Some of it, in the mansion, had been the early rising servants. It was true on the ship as well. The boiler was stoked early to prepare to heat water for moving and for using. Lookout shifts ended. On land, Toph had felt birds and small animals begin to scamper about the warmer the stones and air had become. There had been noises, and movement under her feet as things rose for the day or returned from their nightly adventures and prepared to rest.

But that had been when she'd been around people.

With the badgermoles, the sun had barely meant anything. They were as blind as Toph, and lived deep, where their tunnels wouldn't collapse or be interrupted by the casual digging of smaller creatures or overenthusiastic human benders.

Toph did feel things when the sun rose. There was a beauty to it. But it didn't really stand out to her, when she had lived so much of her life in the night and the dark. There were plenty of things that started when the sun went down.

"There's a change," she said. "But it's not just a beginning. It's also an end."

"Very much like a marriage," Uncle was definitely smiling into his cup.

That feeling was prickling now, not just crawling. "Zuko just said he wanted to put more work into his bending. Which I think is good. But I don't know that you need to read much into it."

It earned a sigh from Uncle. "My nephew is not always good at saying what he means."

"Maybe he is. Maybe you're just putting words in his mouth."

It was better and worse than their last fight. Toph wasn't yelling, was feeling more in control.

But she was also feeling squeezed. Was wondering if the ground was about to be ripped out from under her. If she had missed something. If she was being taken advantage of because she was blind to what was happening.

She hated that feeling.

"I might be," Uncle allowed after a moment. "But I wonder if you are hearing all of the things that he is saying."

"It's my eyes that don't work, not my ears."

"You see plenty, in spite of your eyes," Uncle was sounding amused again. "Perhaps I am less worried about you hearing my nephew so much as understanding him." He took a slow sip. "I do wish for your happiness. Both of you."

And as frustrated as she was, Toph could believe that.

It wasn't really an apology though. And while she wasn't going to be too obnoxious, Toph would remember that.

Chapter Text

Toph was honestly surprised when Zuko recommended that they find land only a few weeks after their previous stop. She was used to a pretty high level of paranoia from him, and could still feel him turning to watch the horizon more often that usual, as if he was trying to spot something on the water. Shiya had assured Toph that there wasn’t anything out there that she couldn’t see, but Toph hadn’t thought that Zuko was prepared to believe that yet.

For once, she just asked him.

“I don’t want to put you in danger, but there’s no evidence we’ve been followed. You can confirm that no one is nearby wherever we stop, and you’re not defenseless on land. There’s no reason to deny you comfort just because I’m a bit…”

“Paranoid,” Toph offered, almost smiling.

“Worried,” Zuko said firmly. “I—All of my most dangerous enemies have been the ones I couldn’t see.”

That struck something, a little unexpectedly. Toph had mostly pushed back memories of her parents’ betrayal and the pain that had come with it. But the unexpected confinement, the days on the ship that had rocked and rocked and left her without any sense of reality, her mother’s whimpers and sobs hovering in that damp, creaking darkness.

The moment Zuko had taken those stupid shoes off and Toph had had a first, fuzzy sense of the world around her again.

Toph’s blindness hadn’t been the same kind of weakness for her in years, but she’d had a full sense, those weeks, of fear of things you couldn’t see.

“Well, you’ve got working eyes and I’ve got working feet,” Toph said, bumping into his shoulder as she walked past him. “I think we’ve got all our sides covered.”

All the tension Zuko had been carrying in his shoulders and back dropped suddenly. He sounded almost happy as he said, “I know I can count on you.”

Which…

It should have been comforting. But it was like talking to Uncle again. Like something was squeezing Toph, tying her down. Like her blood was pumping too loudly in her ears, like smells were too close.

Toph couldn’t stay, she thought, as she said, “Sure thing, Sparky.” She couldn’t be here, couldn’t be normal here. No matter how accommodating, this wasn’t a place she could stay.

She would help him, as long as she was here. Because Zuko had been nothing but fair and gracious to her, and she liked most of the people on this ship, and it was worth it.

But she couldn’t stay.

There was a stiff breeze crossing the deck, pulling at Toph's hair and hems, making her steps more cautious. The slight extra rocking of the ship didn't help either, but it was the wind that was making Toph feel especially adrift. It whistled a little as it passed her ears, making others sounds just a little hard to track.

She knew by feel that there were three others on the deck, two in front of her, and one on the far side of the ship, keeping a lookout behind them. She could even have pinpointed who it was if she had been in the mood to try.

Instead she was testing her ability to warp the metal just a touch, making it not sticky exactly, but more attached to her. Her toes were cold, but she could feel her bending working in smooth slips as she lifted a foot and made sure there was no imprint, then placed it down just a little further forward, ensuring she was connected before doing the same with the other foot.

To anyone looking, it would probably seem like she was standing still. They would have to watch her for a while to notice that she was covering any distance. If asked, she could tell them she was practicing her balance or something.

She still wasn't quite ready to confess to this skill. Especially not if…well. If she wasn't planning on sticking around, she probably shouldn't start showing it off. Chihiro and Lei both assumed her increased skill in cleaning the boiler and grates was her improving with the coal. Which Toph was. She was just also getting better at asking the metal to let go of it's charcoal.

It was pretty cool, honestly. And not something Toph was likely to have ever discovered if she hadn't been brought here.

She tried not to think about that too much.

Zuko was meditating on his bed when Toph came back from her scrub, still slightly damp and a little chilly. It was nice to come into the room and find it a little extra warm from the excess body heat Zuko was radiating.

She worked on toweling her hair while Zuko finished, finding herself matching his breathing patterns after a little while and slipping into something of a meditative quiet herself as she worked her way up her hair.

"Would you like any help?"

Toph half swallowed a yelp at Zuko's question, not having realized he had finished. "Oh, no. I'm good. Thanks," she added.

Zuko shifted a little when Toph shivered in the cooling space. "I can…I can do it a bit faster. With a little heat."

After so many months, Toph knew that Zuko was very bossy. But he hadn't been pushy about a lot of personal things, and so she tried not to be irritated that he was doing it now. He was offering new information, and had probably noticed that Toph was cold. When he wasn't completely obtuse, he could be pretty considerate.

And having warm, dry hair didn't sound so bad at the moment.

"What would you do?" Toph asked.

"Heat the comb, and my hands," Zuko said quickly. "Just a little. Or, well, a safe amount."

"Okay," Toph said, putting her back to him and pulling her hair behind her. "Comb's over there."

His movements were a little jerky as he found it and settled behind her, splitting her hair in a horizontal line just above her ears and asking, "Can I pin this up?"

“Yeah, I've got—”

"I'll use mine," he said, getting her hair up before she had quite realized he'd grabbed something off his own head.

As awkward as he had started, his hands steadied quickly and soon there was a gentle heat moving up and down Toph's back, and a light sweat building on her neck. The air tasted a touch thicker, and Toph was surprised by how humid he'd made it so quickly.

"Do all firebenders do this?" she asked at one point, curious. Her mother had had maids and dressers to help her after a bath and make sure she was presentable as quickly as possible. Before the war, had there been a demand for firebending hairdressers?

"Dunno," Zuko said. "Mom taught me and Azula, but Azula hated doing it. Said it took too long."

"I thought it was faster."

"It is," Zuko sounded a little amused and a little sad. "But Azula liked being pampered. Said it wasn't the same if she had to do it herself."

Toph hummed, not really sure how to follow up on…any of that really. She knew about Azula of course, from Uncle's lessons. But Zuko didn't talk about his sister.

Or his mom.

He must have taken the silence as an invitation because he added, "Mom always liked to do it. And to have someone do it for her. I was too little, and my bending wasn't good enough. But I remember her teaching me the technique."

"Neither of my parents are benders," Toph said. Which was stupid. He already knew that. "They never taught me anything, at least not about that. Mom tried to teach me how to play the zheng, but I was never very good at it."

"Uncle likes to tell people I can play the tsungi horn. It's only technically true."

Toph snickered. "Really?"

"I learned whatever four note practice song they started me on. I can play it forward and backwards. Or in just about any other order you can come up with. Some of them are prettier than others."

There was a stronger heat behind her now, as if he was getting embarrassed.

"I think that counts. Mom taught me her favorite lullaby and it's the only song I know, but I can still play it. Although," Toph let herself grin a little, knowing Zuko couldn't see it, "it might have been her favorite because it was the only one I didn't butcher."

It was Zuko's turn to choke back a laugh, his hands trembling a little, tugging at her hair. "I'm sure you weren't that bad."

"I've got the best hearing of anyone I know," Toph said confidently. "I was exactly that bad. I'm pretty good at bending though, and I prefer it."

"You're really good at earthbending," Zuko said, his voice dropping a little. "I don’t…I can't believe some of the things you can do."

He had paused, and Toph wiggled a little. "I mean, you're not half bad yourself. And you're getting better."

"I'm trying," Zuko said, taking the top of her hair down and starting to work through it. "I want to be the best that I can be."

His hands touched her jaw gently, tipping her head back slightly. Toph didn't object. She did shiver though. Which was weird, because his hands were hot, not cold, and she shivered again before he took them away.

"I'm not an expert on firebending," Toph said after a minute. “But I've got a weird way of looking at people and…” she resisted the urge to tilt her head back and forth to wiggle her thoughts free. "You look good. When you bend. The movements are precise and efficient and really smooth. I think you're doing really well, from where I'm standing."

There was another pause, his hands getting a little warmer. "Thank you," he whispered.

They didn't say anything else while he finished. Toph tried not to feel like the air was so thick it was choking her.

Jee let his head tilt back and watched the stars drift slowly by, tracking their course in a casual, instinctive way. He could hear the general humming softly from his place by the rails. A soothing tune. A sad one.

“All quiet upstairs,” Sergeant Mao said as she stepped closer, her eyes also tracking to the sky. “Bit warm, but not explosive.”

Jee hated how much he had to think about the implications of that. “No hawks today. Not sure if that means the pirates have been captured and we just aren’t considered need to know, or if it’s still an active threat.”

Sergeant Mao actually snorted. Softly, but still there. “Define threat,” she murmured.

She hadn’t laughed or smiled for months after Princess Lian’s death, and then only rarely. Jee couldn’t make himself responsible for the feelings of every member of this crew, but he’d felt the weight of that solemnity, especially as it had stuck around. She’d had a husband, Jee thought. Not for long, and her opinions on that were maybe more than a little why she’d been placed on this ship. She’d gotten quieter and quieter the longer she’d been here. Cold in the ways the prince was. Those dangerous ways that said a fire was ready to explode when it had the chance.

She smiled now. Sometimes she even laughed.

She didn’t think pirates were a threat to her princess.

“Those with intent to act with malice,” he said. “However unsuccessfully.”

She sobered a little. “It would be less than ideal for them to attack us. The prince wouldn’t take it well, regardless of how it ended.”

“And we can’t take prisoners at sea,” Jee pointed out. “I don’t know if the princess is aware of that.”

That did make her wince. “Not sure how to bring that one up, sir.”

“I’ll handle it,” Jee sighed. The princess didn’t dislike him, but he wasn’t as close to her as some of the other members of the crew. If the news upset her, she could still go to those she trusted for something more like comfort.

Hopefully she wouldn’t go to the prince.

What a mess.