As Mai sat six feet and a thousand worlds away from her invited but unwelcome guest, she found herself preoccupied with the myriad of irritating noises and distractions she was aware of but could not seem to find in the vast Fire Nation palace. She stopped the wince as water leaking from a mysterious faucet dripped too loudly to be believed. She clenched her jaw as water from a bath drained in one of so many rooms. She defiantly kept her hands folded across her chest, trapping her body heat but resisting the urge to soothe the goosebumps away with friction. She felt a draft she knew she would complain about to Zuko later, just like she knew no one would find it.
Katara was aware only of the irrepressible heat.
“Is something wrong, Mai?” Katara asked, forcing her posture ramrod straight. “You’ve been sitting there glaring for five minutes.”
Mai answered in her unalterable alto rasp, “According to your brother, I don’t have another expression.”
Katara had the decency to look embarrassed on his behalf. “Well, that’s Sokka. Sarcasm’s his thing – along with boomerangs.”
“Not very funny, is he?”
“He thinks so.”
Mai crossed and uncrossed her legs. As with all of her movements and gestures, there was a gravity that made up for whatever else she may have lacked. She had spent years of her life cultivating a detached persona, but as Zuko’s lover and consort, she had little choice now but to become involved. So she had refined her ability to intimidate – so much so that a simple arched eyebrow could make grown men and soldiers break out into a cold sweat.
Katara met her gaze with steady, unflinching confidence. Mai thought with grim amusement that for as much water as the girl had in her soul, she had plenty of characteristics that would have suited a member of the Earth Kingdom as well.
“Mai?”
“We don’t talk much.”
Katara blinked slowly. “No. I guess we don’t. That’s why I was surprised to receive your letter.”
“I don’t like talking to people,” Mai informed her.
Katara started to get her back up, the self righteous temper that she had become famous for bubbling to the surface. She was water, earth, and fire too. And her lover was the last of the air.
“Mai, if you have a point, would you mind getting to it? I don’t see why you called me out here just to act so—"
“I don’t like talking to people,” Mai repeated. “So I’d only initiate a conversation if it was really important, wouldn’t I?”
Katara retreated from her indignation so swiftly it was like snow tumbling off the mountain. Her eyes softened. “Mai, something is wrong, isn’t it? Did Azula try to… hurt herself again? Or is it Zuko?”
The sound of her lover’s name shot through her like lightning she did not have the power to redirect. She wanted to scream at how it sounded in Katara’s mouth. Like all such impulses, Mai swallowed it and dampened it, turning a volcanic eruption into a distant rumble.
“It is Zuko.”
Katara was on her feet so quickly, one would have thought Mai had just called her to war all over again. “Zuko! What’s wrong? Is he sick? Did he get hurt?” When Mai didn’t immediately answer, Katara stepped closer, bridging the physical gap between them. “Mai, answer me! You’ve been sitting there acting like… I don’t even know what you’re acting like, but I don’t like it, and if you don’t tell me what’s going on soon, I’m going—"
“He says your name.”
The snow tumbling off the mountain hit the ground with a thud.
The volcano continued to rumble, distantly.
“He does what?” Katara whispered.
“He dreams,” Mai continued, refusing to get to her feet. Katara felt like she had the advantage of height. Mai preferred to let the girl have her illusions. “And he talks in his sleep. He says your name.”
Katara waved her hand, trying to dismiss it, but Mai did not miss the faint pink blush staining her cheeks. “That’s nothing. I wouldn’t be surprised if he still had dreams about hunting Aang down, he did it for so long. He probably still mutters about capturing the Avatar.”
“He doesn’t. It’s only you.”
Mai watches Katara crease her brow. She can imagine how quickly Katara’s mind must be scattering to find an explanation for these midnight murmurs. If Mai were a better person, she’d put a stop to it now.
She doesn’t.
“We are friends, Mai,” Katara insists. “We fought together, we traveled together… I saved his life after he saved mine. We brought Azula down. I know all of that had a huge effect on him, so—"
“He’s hard.”
The silence that stretches after this revelation is so taut that it chokes.
“I…”
“When he whispers your name in the middle of the night, he’s hard, Katara. Somehow I doubt that he’s thinking of his sister. Azula inspired some impassioned reactions in him and there’s not a spirit that walks the realm who’s unaware of how dysfunctional that family was. But incest never entered the picture.”
Mai hides the venom in her voice behind the distance she naturally assumes. It gives her the clarity of mind to watch Katara squirm, to watch that pink turn to red, to watch the shame rise up from her depths and threaten to drown her. It almost improves Mai’s mood.
“We’re friends, Mai,” Katara whispers.
“Are you?”
And the righteous fury returns.
“Of course that’s all we are, Mai!” Katara rages, curling her fingers into fists. “I can’t believe you’d even suggest that. I love Aang! We’re getting married in a few months. I invited you and Zuko. Why would I do that if….” She growls. “I cannot believe you would do this. Inviting me here just to feed your own paranoia.”
“That’s not why I brought you here.”
“Oh, really? Could have fooled me. Why else would you—"
“I brought you here to hurt you.”
Katara stares, uncomprehending, but subtly shifting her stance in anticipation of an attack. She furrows her brow further, and Mai knows she’s wondering how far she has been removed from her element.
This charade gives Mai no amount of grim amusement, and she rolls her eyes, leaning back in her seat. “Please. Do you really think I’d attack you? The Fire Nation is barely making progress towards regaining the trust of the other countries as it is. I wouldn’t jeopardize that with shuriken, though believe me, it’s tempting.”
Katara sags as if her whole body aches from this confusion. “Mai, just get to your point.”
Mai shrugs. It makes no difference to her at this point. She’s already getting what she wants. “I know you’re not sleeping with him, Katara. I doubt Aang is flying you over for any secret trysts. Besides, I share his bed, and I know every inch of him. There is nothing he can hope to hide from me.”
And that’s the problem, isn’t it?
Mai ignores her own treachery. “That’s why I know he loves you.”
Mai watches Katara’s heart break at the news. She almost feels satisfied.
“No,” Katara whispers, turning her face away. “He can’t.”
“You said it yourself. You fought together. You traveled together. You were both wrapped up in each other’s lives for a year, far more involved than I was. It’s only natural if you think about it.”
Katara whirled back, and Mai was only slightly surprised to see that Katara was crying. “If you really think that, then get angry! Go yell at him, don’t sit here torturing me. Don’t you feel anything, Mai?”
Something in Mai snaps and finally, she rises.
“I feel, Katara,” Mai hisses, exposing her fangs at last. “I feel the betrayal of his promise. I feel the loss of him. I feel the lie in every embrace and the secrets in every kiss. I feel it all and it twists me in knots. Just because I don’t scream and cry like a child, don’t assume that I’m made of stone.”
Katara gapes, chastened, but she does not look away. “I don’t deserve this. I did nothing wrong.”
“No,” Mai concedes. “I just don’t care.”
With a gesture, Katara draws the tears away from her face. Mai knows she will not shed any more. “Tell me what you want.”
Mai does not hesitate to respond. “Leave. And never come back.”
It hits Katara hard. Mai tries to decide if it must feel like a tidal wave, a boulder, a towering inferno, or a tornado. Maybe it feels like all of that at once.
“That’s really what you want.” It isn’t a question.
Mai nods. “I made him promise not to leave me. Zuko’s a man of his word. I know he’ll never leave me. I know he’ll never do anything while he’s with me. I don’t doubt him. And if it concerns you, I don’t think you’d do anything either. I don’t even know how you feel about Zuko, but I do know you’re honest.
“But he’ll keep wanting you. I know it. The more he sees you, the more he’ll want you. He’ll deny it and he’ll shove it away and he’ll torture himself over it. But he’ll still want you.
“Maybe if you go away, he can forget you.”
When it’s all said and done, despite her jealousy and despite her desire gut the woman before her, Mai cannot help but feel a dim sense of pride when Katara does not wilt before this proclamation. Katara’s always been stronger than she looked. That’s the difference between the two of them. No one has ever doubted Mai’s strength.
“I suppose I won’t be seeing you at the wedding.” Katara’s voice is soft, but never does it tremble.
“I plan on becoming unexpectedly ill.”
“I see.” Katara closes her eyes. “I think you’re making a mistake.”
“Of course you do.”
There’s really nothing more to be said after that. Katara bows her head, a sign of respect for the consort of the Fire Lord. Mai returns the gesture for the future wife of the Avatar. Then Katara turns and leaves the room, the blue ribbons of her dress fading as she rounds the corner.
Mai lets out a breath she does not know she held on to and sinks back into her seat. She allows herself to fall forward until her forehead rests against her knees now that there’s no one to see this sign of weakness. She braces her palms against the arms of her chair.
She is surprised to find that she feels no better.
But she knows she’ll be fine in the end.
She is right after all.
“Goodbye, Katara.”
