AtLA: Images of Broken Light
Title: Images of Broken Light
Fandom: Avatar the Last Airbender
Author: kawaiispinel
Feedback: ...Is loverly.
Word Count:
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: 23. Water Lilies
Warnings: Character death, ahoy!
Characters: Sokka, Toph, mentions of Katara and Aang.
Pairings: Slight Sokka/Toph
Summary: It wasn't as if he hadn't spent enough time thinking about it.
Disclaimer: It's still not mine. Really.
Author's Note: So... To kill my writer's block, I write deathfic? WTF, muses? Granted, it's not Toph (or Sokka) this time, but still. And in a perfect world, it would have had a better ending, but meh.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t spent enough time thinking about it- about arrangements, and memorials, and apologies to his father, and apologies to Aang (who wouldn’t speak to anyone- least of all him), and everything else there was to think about. He had earned himself a little time not to think, to sit down and get himself collected, because he owed it to her to be level-headed when he had to speak at the ceremony to discuss to everyone present how she had fought and how she had... How she had...
He couldn’t even think the word. The millions of little chores he had done with no emotion had been proof enough, as had the sight of her limp form on that battlefield as he arrived a second too late, but he hadn’t yet brought himself to truly think of her as being... Dead. His little sister, always so much braver and stronger, whom he still felt compelled to protect anyway. He had made a promise to his father, to his mother, too, before she died, that he would always look after her, and he had failed.
He wanted to cry, wanted to let every bit of pent-up emotion inside him out, wanted to tear every Fire Nation soldier he could find apart for what they did to her, but he couldn’t... He couldn’t even move. He just sat staring into the setting sun which would give rise to moonlight and then he’d be forced to wonder if Yue was watching over Katara and whether they were bending the tides together. The thought should have comforted him, but it only made him more miserable. It made him realize that Katara was just one more woman he had cared about that he couldn’t protect. How could he ever protect anyone after this? How could he help save the world?
"Sokka..."
The voice was soft, husky, the sound of someone who had been crying, but was doing a damn good job at hiding that fact. He didn’t have to turn to know who it was. Even unfamiliarly thick with tears, he’d know that voice anywhere- Toph. He didn’t respond to her, merely nodded his head, realizing after the fact that she couldn’t see. He rapped his knuckles hard on the rough earth. In the old days before all of this, they used to have a entire language made up of subtle raps on the earth (on his part) and various noises that sounded no less innocent than bird calls (on her part), which was how they communicated when their voices would give them away during battles when staying low was key.
"Sokka, look at me." Her voice was demanding now, rising an octave as if it was in danger of breaking any second. He half wondered how she could know whether she was looking at him or not. Then again, he assumed she just knew as she knew many things. "Aang won’t talk to me. I can’t have you not talking to me either." He heard her footsteps before he saw her feet come into his line of vision as she marched in front of him. A pile of pure white flowers fluttered down from her hands and instinctively he picked one up, studying it. Water lilies. Katara’s favorite.
He arched a brow and held one up to her, asking without words how she’d managed to come by them. He couldn’t imagine her with her fear of water venturing too far into a pond to obtain these precious flowers, but no street vendor could imitate the glossy sheen of a water lily that has been picked straight from its resting place.
Toph gave a huffy little "You don’t know to know"-type sigh and plopped down in front of him. She tried to reach onto him, but he pulled away, still studying the lily in his hands, remembering how Katara, as a child, would have Gran-Gran braid them into her hair. Perhaps Gran-Gran would do so again one last time.
"Dammit, Sokka!" She swore, breaking up the image of Katara’s pale face decorated with water lilies as she was sealed into an icy coffin and placed in the catacombs of the North Pole- it had been at Master Pakku’s insistence that her final resting place be there rather than at the bottom of the sea, which was where the Southern Water Tribe tended to place their dead. Hakoda had only disagreed for a second.
He looked up into her blind eyes, blinking. She was crude, but never crude enough to swear. In fact, he wasn’t sure he’d ever heard her swear before. She obviously believed that she had his attention for she went on without restraint, tears she thought she’d had checked streaming openly down her face, although there was little sadness in her voice... Just frustration and anger. "She’s dead, Sokka," she said. "She’s dead and there’s nothing we can do about it. There’s no sense sitting here like a bunch of idiots and moping. We still have a war to fight, and no one seems to remember that. And now Aang’s not talking and all you’ve been doing is making arrangements and staring off into space, and I’m trying to keep everyone together, but that’s not what I’m used to doing. That’s her job. And.. I can’t do it, Sokka. Not alone."
"What do you want me to do?" He asked. It was the most he’d said in a while. Most of his responses had been monosyllabic at best this past week.
"I want you to help me," she snapped, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and forcing him to look her in the eye. He could have easily avoided it- after all she couldn’t see where his eyes were, but he didn’t. He stared into her eyes willingly, wondering how someone so strong and resilient could crumble so easily. He’d taken it for granted what Katara’s presence meant to the group. He knew how he felt and to some extent how Aang felt, but he’d never even considered Toph’s feelings or what she would go through to attempt to make this right.
He pulled her into a tight hug suddenly, half expecting her to cry on his shoulder, but she had apparently brought herself back into check for she did nothing more but bury her face in his neck and whisper in his ear. "We’re going to get through this," she told him.
He didn’t say as much, but as he held her as if he could never dream of letting her go, he thought that perhaps she was right.
Fandom: Avatar the Last Airbender
Author: kawaiispinel
Feedback: ...Is loverly.
Word Count:
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: 23. Water Lilies
Warnings: Character death, ahoy!
Characters: Sokka, Toph, mentions of Katara and Aang.
Pairings: Slight Sokka/Toph
Summary: It wasn't as if he hadn't spent enough time thinking about it.
Disclaimer: It's still not mine. Really.
Author's Note: So... To kill my writer's block, I write deathfic? WTF, muses? Granted, it's not Toph (or Sokka) this time, but still. And in a perfect world, it would have had a better ending, but meh.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t spent enough time thinking about it- about arrangements, and memorials, and apologies to his father, and apologies to Aang (who wouldn’t speak to anyone- least of all him), and everything else there was to think about. He had earned himself a little time not to think, to sit down and get himself collected, because he owed it to her to be level-headed when he had to speak at the ceremony to discuss to everyone present how she had fought and how she had... How she had...
He couldn’t even think the word. The millions of little chores he had done with no emotion had been proof enough, as had the sight of her limp form on that battlefield as he arrived a second too late, but he hadn’t yet brought himself to truly think of her as being... Dead. His little sister, always so much braver and stronger, whom he still felt compelled to protect anyway. He had made a promise to his father, to his mother, too, before she died, that he would always look after her, and he had failed.
He wanted to cry, wanted to let every bit of pent-up emotion inside him out, wanted to tear every Fire Nation soldier he could find apart for what they did to her, but he couldn’t... He couldn’t even move. He just sat staring into the setting sun which would give rise to moonlight and then he’d be forced to wonder if Yue was watching over Katara and whether they were bending the tides together. The thought should have comforted him, but it only made him more miserable. It made him realize that Katara was just one more woman he had cared about that he couldn’t protect. How could he ever protect anyone after this? How could he help save the world?
"Sokka..."
The voice was soft, husky, the sound of someone who had been crying, but was doing a damn good job at hiding that fact. He didn’t have to turn to know who it was. Even unfamiliarly thick with tears, he’d know that voice anywhere- Toph. He didn’t respond to her, merely nodded his head, realizing after the fact that she couldn’t see. He rapped his knuckles hard on the rough earth. In the old days before all of this, they used to have a entire language made up of subtle raps on the earth (on his part) and various noises that sounded no less innocent than bird calls (on her part), which was how they communicated when their voices would give them away during battles when staying low was key.
"Sokka, look at me." Her voice was demanding now, rising an octave as if it was in danger of breaking any second. He half wondered how she could know whether she was looking at him or not. Then again, he assumed she just knew as she knew many things. "Aang won’t talk to me. I can’t have you not talking to me either." He heard her footsteps before he saw her feet come into his line of vision as she marched in front of him. A pile of pure white flowers fluttered down from her hands and instinctively he picked one up, studying it. Water lilies. Katara’s favorite.
He arched a brow and held one up to her, asking without words how she’d managed to come by them. He couldn’t imagine her with her fear of water venturing too far into a pond to obtain these precious flowers, but no street vendor could imitate the glossy sheen of a water lily that has been picked straight from its resting place.
Toph gave a huffy little "You don’t know to know"-type sigh and plopped down in front of him. She tried to reach onto him, but he pulled away, still studying the lily in his hands, remembering how Katara, as a child, would have Gran-Gran braid them into her hair. Perhaps Gran-Gran would do so again one last time.
"Dammit, Sokka!" She swore, breaking up the image of Katara’s pale face decorated with water lilies as she was sealed into an icy coffin and placed in the catacombs of the North Pole- it had been at Master Pakku’s insistence that her final resting place be there rather than at the bottom of the sea, which was where the Southern Water Tribe tended to place their dead. Hakoda had only disagreed for a second.
He looked up into her blind eyes, blinking. She was crude, but never crude enough to swear. In fact, he wasn’t sure he’d ever heard her swear before. She obviously believed that she had his attention for she went on without restraint, tears she thought she’d had checked streaming openly down her face, although there was little sadness in her voice... Just frustration and anger. "She’s dead, Sokka," she said. "She’s dead and there’s nothing we can do about it. There’s no sense sitting here like a bunch of idiots and moping. We still have a war to fight, and no one seems to remember that. And now Aang’s not talking and all you’ve been doing is making arrangements and staring off into space, and I’m trying to keep everyone together, but that’s not what I’m used to doing. That’s her job. And.. I can’t do it, Sokka. Not alone."
"What do you want me to do?" He asked. It was the most he’d said in a while. Most of his responses had been monosyllabic at best this past week.
"I want you to help me," she snapped, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and forcing him to look her in the eye. He could have easily avoided it- after all she couldn’t see where his eyes were, but he didn’t. He stared into her eyes willingly, wondering how someone so strong and resilient could crumble so easily. He’d taken it for granted what Katara’s presence meant to the group. He knew how he felt and to some extent how Aang felt, but he’d never even considered Toph’s feelings or what she would go through to attempt to make this right.
He pulled her into a tight hug suddenly, half expecting her to cry on his shoulder, but she had apparently brought herself back into check for she did nothing more but bury her face in his neck and whisper in his ear. "We’re going to get through this," she told him.
He didn’t say as much, but as he held her as if he could never dream of letting her go, he thought that perhaps she was right.