#56 - Legacy: From One Scrape to the Next

Her distinctive wail had Sokka running across the courtyard before he was even aware of what he was doing. By the time he reached her side, her cries reached maximum volume and he winced at the sound.

"Alright, alright," he soothed, putting a strong arm around her. "I'm here. What happened?"

"I feeeeeeeeeell," she whined, clutching at a bloody knee.

"We'll patch it right up, Sweetheart. Don't worry about it."

She sniffled and looked up at him with eyes the color of rich jade as he wiped at her knee with a cloth. Her small hand clutched his trustingly, sure that he could make her feel better, and looking at her, he felt like he could do anything.

"I'm brave, right?" she asked in a small voice that was the complete opposite of the sound that had been coming out of her mouth.

"Braver than I could ever be," he assured her.

"Braver than Mommy, too?"

At that, Sokka grinned. "I wouldn't go that far."

"I heard that!"

Toph's voice boomed like the echo of a landslide. She holding their daughter in the next breath, her expression slightly panicked as she moved a hand over the injured knee.

"Are you alright?" she asked worriedly, the same frightened expression on her face that had been on Anka's. "Does it hurt a lot, Anka?"

"No, I'm okay," Anka answered with a pitiful sniffle that very nearly made her a martyr. "Daddy fixed it."

"He didn't," Toph said with a glower for Sokka.

"He did," Anka insisted. "Tell her, Daddy."

"I really did," Sokka echoed somberly.

"Come on inside," Toph said dismissively and Sokka knew that had she been ten years younger, she would have stuck her tongue out at him. "We'll clean that up."

Hand in hand, the two women in his life walked towards the house, leaving Sokka sitting on the dusty ground. He watched their identical gaits, the ebony sheen of their hair underneath the hot sun, the way they started to argue—probably over whether or not he'd fixed Anka's cut—and smiled. In Anka, Toph had ensured a legacy of equal parts brashness, strength, and compassion. There was no doubt in Sokka's mind that their daughter was his wife in miniature.

So where did that leave him?

As he got up, Sokka reflected that ensuring that his daughter and his wife didn't bend each other to oblivion was his gift to time—after all, his daughter was destined for greatness and Toph had plenty more good works left in her. Together, they were unstoppable, his Earthbenders. Whistling tunelessly, he sauntered over to the house, heard the start of a pretty good fight, and knew there was nowhere else he'd rather be.