A/N: Linzin. Pre-LoK. Slight AU.

Disclaimer: All rights to ATLA and LoK belong to their rightful owners.

Seven o'clock in the morning was the time, and this meant Lin didn't have to go in to the station today. It was, by the standards of official practice, her one day off, and that particular day was a Saturday. Instead of rising at approximately five in the morning when the sun barely nicked the outside horizon, Lin decided to keep her brain in a dead-sleep mode and sleep the morning away, but even a task as simple as that became an impossible one, as she couldn't ignore the tugging and the insistent cries of a six year old child.

"Mom," the child had positioned itself in the crook of Lin's neck, in the small space between her chin and curled arms, and the child patted her still chubby hands on the current Chief of Police's cheeks, patting softly but non-stopping, "Mom, wake up, Mom."

Lin tried to ignore her daughter's voice. She tried to misplace the cries into some sort of dream, but each attempt ended with her daughter's face making an appearance. An over-sized head in the middle of her viewing frame, repeating the mantra, "Mom, Mom, wake up-time to get up," and it only succeeded in jolting Lin awake, ruining any chance of sleep she might have had. She ultimately did awake and open her eyes to stare into the child's face that was clearly disturbed from the lack of response, but what Lin noticed, even in the dim sunlight that escaped through the closed curtains, was that her child's cheeks were faintly tinted pink. There were no tears, but her lips were pouted, cheeks tinted a shade dangerously close to red. In her experience with this child, it signaled that had gone wrong.

"Where's your father?" After pushing herself up on her elbow, folding her hand into a lazy fist to rest her head on, she sighed and looked into the girl's sullen gray eyes.

"Work," she said simply and toyed with the edges of her nightclothes, "fixed breakfast before he left."

"Are you hungry?"

She shook her head, "Come with me."

"Xue," keeping her tone reasonably calm but firm, "I promised you that we'd spend the day together, but I'm very tired right now-,"

"Come with me," cutting her short and giving her a diminutive glare that hardly any affect, "come with me." Suddenly, she grabbed onto Lin's free arm and tugged on it wordlessly.

The tugs weren't a problem, a small nuisance, but not a problem. Lin was exhausted, and she wanted to sleep. As uncomfortable as it might've felt for her to feel it, she didn't want to be bothered with Xue at the moment.

"Listen here little lady," before Xue could squeak and protest, Lin wrapped both arms around the child, snugging her close on top of her stomach, holding her still until she caught her undivided attention, "what did I just say?"

Somewhat muffled by her mother's white tank top, she struggled for several moments before speaking, "That you're sleepy, and I should wait."

Lin nodded, "Good girl."

"But it's important," she said with a sigh and dropped her head to the side between her mother's breasts, "it's really important, so please."

Feeling a sharp pinch from where Xue's fingers trailed on the side of her stomach, Lin groaned, "This better be important, Girly-girl." Rolling over and ignoring the indignant cries of protest when her body matted over on Xue's, Lin dropped her feet down on the wooden floor, while the latter stumbled out of bed, hair ruffled and pout more pronounced.

"Follow me," finding that it was best not to argue about nearly being flattened (though Lin wasn't that heavy at all), she grabbed Lin's hand and guided her down the hall, "you'll see."

Xue guided Lin to the backyard of their home. For Lin, it was a definite change in scenery; she couldn't remember the last time she'd been outside in the backyard. The sun was still remiss in its ascent, but some light had made its home on the ground below. The grass had been blade cut as usual, and the blossom tree to the far back of the backyard was starting to bloom. Even from her stance on the porch, Lin saw the pink petals beginning to erupt with a velvety smooth bud and pale yellow in the middle. The blossom tree had grown spectacularly over the years, and Lin was almost surprised, almost, to see it as it was in the present. But that wasn't Xue's focus. Releasing her hold on Lin's hand, she stepped down the steps and walked toward the tree in silence, and she came to a stop only to kneel down at an auburn-colored thing at the bottom of the tree's trunk. She placed her hand on her knees and concentrated hard on the unmoving thing, and Lin came down the steps too, just to see the reason for her sleep disruption.

"It's not moving," Xue said about the brown-feathered hawk that lied motionless on the protruding tree roots, "I saw it on a branch, and then it fell. Just fell. Now, it won't get up."

Lin frowned. Then, she felt her heart beat faster. This was not how she planned for Xue to understand the concepts of life and death, but there wasn't any stopping it now.

"Did you tell your father about this?" She asked quietly, "Did he see?"

"No." Biting her lower lip and gazing even harder at the hawk, "He was gone by then. I was gonna call him, though, but I forgot the number."

Sighing inwardly, Lin was acutely aware that Tenzin would have returned home if Xue had called, and she was grateful that the girl didn't get the opportunity to do so. Then, she much rather him do the deed instead of she.

"Well, that's fine," she engulfed the child into a half hug and keeping her away from the hawk, "but there's nothing we can do for the hawk now."

"Dead?" As if hearing the word for the first time, Xue tried the word again to gain the feel of it, "Dead."

Holding her tighter, "How do you know about death?"

"Kids at school and my teacher," she leaned into her mother's side, taking small comfort from the warmth her body emitted, "dead…that means it won't wake up, won't it?"

"I'm sorry Xue." To her astonishment, Lin heard the tightness in her voice, "I'm so sorry. I should've gotten up when you asked."

Xue curled deeper into her mother's embrace, to the point that her face was completely hidden and all that could be seen was the luster of her black hair. There were no tears, but her body trembled, quickly absorbing the affect the experience was having on her. Her hands clenched into each other, and she started to heave out desperate breaths. But no sobs came forward; no wrecking-quietly confused and sorrowful sobs exited her mouth.

After some time, Xue raised her head up at Lin, and she caught sight of how glistening the child's eyes were in the growing sunlight.

"This is what happened to Grandpa," she murmured slowly, "he's dead too, now."

"Yes, he is." Lin shifted on her bottom and eyed the hawk skeptically, "but he died when you were three, much younger. You don't remember him do you?"

Xue shrugged, her face pushed together in concentration, "A little, but only when I'm sleeping. He looks like Daddy, but he sounds funner."

A chuckle or two ran in the air, "Yes, he was much funner than your father."

The silence that fell between them wasn't an uncomfortable one. Xue still sat on her lap, but she positioned her face to the front, staring carelessly at the fallen hawk. It was a juvenile. Its wings were a rusty brown shade, and the distinctive, lengthy feathers that passed on near its sharpened beak were familiar to the Fire Nation messenger hawks that she read about so much in school. How she remembered how valiant the body appeared moments before it weakened and collapsed from the branch, and now, it lay crumbled on the dirt beneath the tree. The wings were spread apart, and the eyes were half-open to reveal its proper dark brown color. She was happy that she couldn't see the feet, but seconds after it landed, she was very tempted to touch the wings. They weren't big, those rusted colored wings, but they appeared pretty in the morning light. And all she wanted to do was to touch them; she wanted to touch the wings that appeared to stream with different sorts of colors in the sunlight. But as she thought on it, comparing the hawk to the now, she didn't dare inch a finger close to the wings that wavered slightly by the passing wind.

"Everything and everyone must die Xue," the words tumbled smoothly off of Lin's tongue and into Xue's head, and she felt the girl move in discomfort at them.

"Then that means me, and you, and Dad, and Ma' Toph, and Gran-Gran will die one day," she heaved and did not move her eyesight from the hawk, "everything."

"Yes." Pulling the child closer and lowering her head so that her cheek was pressed against hers, "But not today, my girly-girl, not today. Today, you are mine, and you will be mine tomorrow. The day after that, then the week after that, and the month, and the years following until I am no more, and even after I'm dead, you will still be my girly-girl."

Lin promptly kissed her cheeks, then her forehead, then her chin, and Xue let out a small fit of giggles, using her hands to push her mother's lips away but to no avail. She tickled her child as she smothered her in kisses, and she kept her close, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair.

Pacified, "What do we do now with the hawk? Do we throw it away?"

"It has to be put to rest, but not in the garbage."

"What did you do to Grandpa's body?" Looking up curiously at Lin, "What did they do to him?"

"Your grandfather was given a sky burial," but thinking on what occurred during a sky burial, what happened to the body afterwards, "we won't be doing that to the hawk. Since, we have no ocean or sea, we'll bury it here, in the backyard."

Xue was toying with the buttons on her night shirt, "Yes, that sounds nice. I like that. I want to do it. I want to bury the hawk."

So it happened that they buried the nameless hawk near the blossom tree. Lin went inside the house to find a suitable box to place the hawk in, and Xue opened the earth to create a large enough hole to bury the hawk in. It was a quiet moment, a quick moment, and Xue, who hadn't touched the hawk and permitted her mother to place it inside the box, carefully lowered the hawk into the ground without nearly tipping it over. They took turns placing the dirt over the hawk's body; pound after pound, the green box that held the poor hawk was covered in a blanket of dirt. When the deed was done, Xue patted the mount firmly, smoothing it out and looking satisfied once it was finished.

"Dad can say a prayer, right?" She nodded in agreement to herself, "He's good at doing things like that."

"Or maybe you can give one," Lin suggested, "after all, you prepared this."

Together they kneeled, and Xue contemplated on what she could say. She wasn't her father. She didn't have a way with words yet, and she bit her tongue, struggling to find the right words for the situation. Lin kneeled next to her, patiently waiting for the girl to come up with something, and at the same time, fighting off sleep that inched closer and closer to her eyes each passing second. By this time, the sun was truly in the sky, and its warmth covered the entire city. Their neighbors were rising for the morning, and they heard the sounds of honking cars and hollering merchants from their secluded grounds.

Head lowered, hands touching in the way she remembered her father doing it, "Hawk, wherever you are I hope you have all the bird seed you can eat and all the friends you can make." That was it. Letting out a relieved sigh, Xue popped her hands on her thighs and bowed to the mouth where the hawk lied beneath.

"That was fine, Xue." Lin said, "That was perfect."

"Are we finished?" Standing and dusting off the dirt that had gotten on her clothes, Xue eyed Lin expectantly, "Can we go back in?"

"Of course we can," Lin didn't know what had gotten into her, but she scooped her daughter in her arms who automatically circled her arms around her neck, "and we're going to take a bath since we're all dirty now."

"Yes!" Xue pushed her face into the crook of Lin's neck, "And we can ask Dad about where we go after we die, right? Because I think he knows."

"He knows," Lin pinched her bottom, "your dad knows, and you can ask him when he comes to visit tonight. But for now, bath time, breakfast for me, and then we go to the library."

Xue couldn't stop glowing even as warm water was poured on top of her head, drowning her in bubbles. She splashed in the water, too excited to stay calm, and Lin fought a battle to scrub off all the dirt that had gotten onto her. The job was ultimately done with a soaking wet but very much clean Xue standing on an old rug in the bathroom.

She shivered in the cold as her mother retrieved the clothes for the day, and she tried to remove all wetness as she waited. This was reached once Lin returned, and she dried the girl herself, completely deaf to her weak protests. Xue's clothes were warm and comfortable, and she stared into the mirror, pleased with what her mother had chosen for her. Lin had washed up as well, and had eaten a quick breakfast as it was now falling into the routine morning. She didn't have to see how anxious Xue was growing; she could feel it in her footsteps, how they accidentally rocked the floorboards with each skip. At the door, once all was said and done, she rocked back and forth on the heel of her shoes, hand curled tightly around the doorknob.

"Ready Girly-girl?" Lin laughed gingerly at said girl's enthusiastic nod, "Fine, we're going to the library, but stay close to me, you hear?"

The door was locked behind them, and as t hey walked down the sidewalk, Xue's hand slipped into Lin's. Although the difference was apparent, the child's hand in her mother's seemed to be the most right place for it to be.

A/N: A young hawk flew straight into the window where I was working at this morning. Aside from some twitching, it died almost instantly. Working at the laptop, an idea came to me, and I wrote it down. The story pre-dates the inevitable breakup about three years. Jinora was born at least five years after this one-shot. Lin and Tenzin don't live together, but he does regularly visit and spend the night. It's vice versa for Xue and Lin on Air Temple Island (at the time).

Xue means "snow" in Chinese, and yes, her name is a reference to Yue. I'm sure Uncle Sokka found the chance to always tell the story about the moon goddess, and the stories stayed with them well into adulthood. A Sky Ritual, according to Wikipedia, is a Tibetan burial practice when the body of the deceased is left in the mountains to be eaten by animals like birds. Not saying Aang was given that sort of funeral, but it's not impossible. He could've been given a traditional South Pole funeral or Air Nomad funeral, which had Bumi and Tenzin flying Oogi to deliver their father's body to the mountains.

Please don't forget to leave a review. Lin's a bit OOC in this, but to you, I hope you can see that it's justified. I don't see Lin being particularly cold to any child she may have at this age right now. That's all different when the child is an adult and things have happened, but this is definitely meant to be one of the kinder-sweeter scenes of the past.

To those who read, review, alert, or do anything else, thank you and enjoy your lives!