Chapter 13: Verdict
This is the sound of the present,
This is the spell of the past,
This is the time of the verdict,
And this time the future will last.
Toph crouched, digging her toes deep into the dirt and letting every vibration of her surroundings sink in. A few seconds later, a grim picture began to unfurl in her mind. The devastation of yesterday’s battle was still written in the soil, the evidence unmoving and deathly where they lay. Trees too were sprawled across the land, their roots dry and cracked in the air where they’d been bended out of the ground. Amidst it all, she could feel ripped grass and the scorched bodies of insects caught in the crossfire. Toph bit her lip. And then resolutely, she extended her senses to what she was looking for, the big, solid feeling of protection and impregnability, and despite it all, the frown turned into a grin. Yep. It’s still standing.
Toph blew an errant strand of hair away from her face. “I have to hand it to you, Twinkletoes,” she drawled. “For a guy who started out life tossing breezes around, you make a pretty damn fine wall.”
And it was. It had lasted for a little less than twenty-four hours now, a miracle in itself, splitting the land neatly down two sides so that neither the Earth nor Fire soldiers could touch each other. She supposed it had to do with the fact he’d raised it when he was in the Avatar state... but still. The workmanship definitely deserved a grudging compliment.
“What can I say?” Aang shrugged, turning to her with a tiny smile on his face. “I had a good teacher.”
“Smooth,” she acknowledged with casual affection, reaching out to punch his arm lightly. The smile broadened on his face and they stayed like that for a few moments, two twelve year olds sensing the destruction around them and marveling grimly at the power of hate. But of course, even that strange sort of peace couldn’t last for long.
“Avatar Aang?” they heard the heavy crunch of sandals on gravel, and both of them turned at the same time. Aang bowed his head slightly at the visitor.
“General Iroh. What’s up?”
The old man chuckled. “Do you want the long version or the short version?” he asked wryly. “Or I can do both if you want to be here for the next few days.”
“The short version’ll do,” Toph brushed the dirt off her hands and stood. “I have a bad feeling we’re still going to be pretty busy today.”
“I think you will be right, Miss Bei Fong...”
“Toph.” She cut him off crisply, and Iroh coughed.
“Eh, my apologies Miss Toph. But yes,” the general squinted at the sun. “The short version is that King Bumi is getting ready to depart for Omashu. He’s found a few of the refugees from his city, and some of them are still loyal enough to follow back.”
“Ah, Bumi,” Aang said with a wistful smile. For a moment, he looked like he was far, far away from them, and Toph couldn’t help but wonder at what he was thinking. “We’ll be sure to see him off. What else?”
“That’s the only piece of good news, I’m afraid,” Iroh’s brow furrowed. “Jeong-Jeong and Master Piandao are still staying with the Fire Nation soldiers. The Earth Kingdom civilians are still uncomfortable around them even though they saw what they did on the day of the comet.”
Noting that the old man’s feet were still very firmly planted on the dirt just outside the outer wall, Toph smirked. “They still trust you though, right Mushi?”
The smirk faltered when he sighed. “They tolerate me,” General Iroh said sadly. He shifted, and laid one of his hands on the great wall at his back. The stone was already hot to touch in the morning sun. “Which is to be expected, and understood. In fact, it might even be considered a bit of a miracle. Still, I have managed to reestablish some of the connections I had since I was last here. But that brings me to my next point.”
Toph felt the earth shift a little as the general turned to face Aang, his heartbeat slow and solemn. “Ba Sing Se was in dire straits already when we arrived all those months ago. Despite its size and structure, a city simply cannot take in so many diverse refugees without seeing a dramatic decline in stability. I fear that it is even worse now, with people still reeling from the harshness of Fire Nation control and the suddenness of the end of the war.”
Aang narrowed his eyes. “What are you saying, Iroh?”
“I’m saying that without careful guidance, Ba Sing Se is dangerous. An explosion waiting to happen. All it will take is one uprising or outbreak of hostility, and the fear and hatred will overflow again.”
Aang remembered the horrible sound of screaming earth and fire, and shuddered. “Like yesterday?”
Iroh shook his head grimly. “Yesterday was just the beginning. I fear for this city, Avatar Aang. That’s why I want to ask you to stay for a while until things straighten out. Be the figurehead this city needs while the search for Kuei goes on. Perhaps even stay after that if you’re needed.”
Aang gulped. The last time he’d been in Ba Sing Se, things hadn’t turned out too well. In fact, he’d developed somewhat of a strong disliking to it. Given Appa and everything else that had happened, it was hardly surprising. “But how about you? I mean, you have all these connections in Ba Sing Se. You’d probably be able to help quiet things down, right?
Iroh’s face shadowed. “Even with the people I know, I am ultimately the general who almost took the city years ago. Everyone important in Ba Sing Se knows this now. I am afraid I will not have as much influence as I like. Besides, I think perhaps that when the time is right, I will take an extended trip back to the Fire Nation.”
“Hang on,” Toph suddenly cut in. “What happened to ‘re-conquering your tea shop’?”
“My tea shop will always be here for me,” the general acknowledged. “But perhaps I will not always be here for it.” A look of pain crossed his face. “I was... naive, perhaps, to think that I could retire permanently. Yesterday’s battle has proven me very wrong already, and it has led me to question what I had assumed. If things are so bad here, I can’t imagine how bad it will be back in the Fire Nation. Zuko... I’m sure he’s doing fine, but perhaps he will not mind his old Uncle helping him out once in a while.”
Aang frowned, the memory of his visions in the Spirit World suddenly swimming back to the surface. “Yeah, I wouldn’t be surprised if Zuko’s having a hard time. Maybe we should come back with you. I mean, we only really came here to save Zuko’s soldiers.”
Iroh gazed at him steadily. “I’m afraid your work is not done, Avatar. Not with Zuko’s orders to keep many of the troops here.” The general pulled a face. “And really, while I understand the logic behind it, I am concerned about the possible consequences. On the one hand, sometimes it is best to try sealing wounds while they are fresh. On the other, you may cause infection if you move too fast. Keeping the soldiers here to help out with rebuilding is a good move both economically and practically, but with tensions running so high in Ba Sing Se alone, someone powerful but neutral is needed to make sure it does not end in the beginning of another war.”
Toph heard a cricket-moth chirp. Aang exhaled, the smoothness of his bald head furrowing at the thought. “You know, when you put it that way, it really doesn’t seem like I have much choice, do I?”
Iroh smiled sadly. “Ah, Avatar. We always have a choice. Whether or not it leads to what we desire is another question.”
Toph frowned. “Damn. I hate Ba Sing Se.”
“Oh?” Iroh seemed a little surprised, but then he caught himself. “Is it the structure, Miss Bei Fong?”
“Toph,” she waved a hand dismissively. “And yeah. Rules, rules, rules. I don’t know if I can spend too long here without going insane.”
She quietened. “Besides, I was kind of hoping we could get to Gaoling sometime, now that were back in the Earth Kingdom. You know, uh, to visit my parents.”
Aang turned to her in concern. “Hey, it’s okay Toph. You can go see your parents if you want.” He tried to smile, even though his insides had suddenly twisted with the thought of being left alone. First Katara, then Zuko and Sokka, and now Toph. He wasn’t sure if he could take it. The smile faltered. “I know how much you didn’t enjoy Ba Sing Se the last time we were here. I’ll understand if you go, I promise.”
Iroh watched with interest as Toph ears pinked, followed quickly by a scowl of epic proportions. And then she thwacked the Avatar in the arm. “Hey! You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Twinkletoes. It’ll only be until Kuei comes back. My parents can wait. Besides, what would you do without me?”
Aang’s smile returned in full force. “I don’t want to find out, Sifu Toph,” he laughed. “It might involve having an unbruised body for once.”
She whacked him again for good measure. Iroh smiled as the two bickered. “You know, it might not even be so bad, Miss B-... Toph. The last time you visited Ba Sing Se was very different. Now, even though the rings are still in place, the city is more volatile than stable.” A sudden thought occurred to him, and he folded his arms into his sleeves in satisfaction. “Who knows, with the Avatar by your side and the Dai Li scattered, you may even be the one helping to make the rules.”
There was a pause. And then Aang’s eyes grew comically wide, just as Toph’s smile narrowed into a truly frightening grin.
“Twinkletoes and I in charge? Sweetness.”
8 8 8
She was being childish.
She knew this. It wasn’t difficult. Heck, it was obvious. So obvious that even a girl groping her way through the dark could grasp it. And Mai wasn’t in the dark, most of the time. As quiet and understated as she was, as wonderfully as her bored exterior camouflaged her, she was instead often privy to more secrets than she felt comfortable with.
So Mai could see the immaturity of her actions. Quite clearly, if she wanted to be rational about it. That, however, didn’t mean that she had to do anything about it.
“Why should I care?” she shrugged. “I’m sure he’ll give up eventually.”
Perched on the top of the sofa across from her, Ty Lee let loose a loud, expressive sigh. “Oh, but you haven’t seen him, Mai. He’s been standing outside looking all lost and lonely. For over five hours! Your guards haven’t even let him into the courtyard, so people keep giving him these odd looks from the street!”
Mai reached out and lifted another grape off the plate next to her. A small pile of seeds was rapidly accumulating on its surface, a silent testimony to how long they’d been having this fruitless argument. “I’m sure someone like him can handle a few weird looks,” she said dismissively, popping the fruit into her mouth. “It’s not like they’ll kill him.”
Ty Lee shook her head, and then curved her body upwards into a handstand as if the world from upside-down made more sense. “I don’t get you, Mai,” she said, beginning to walk across the top of the couch, never wavering even as her hands sunk into the precarious cushioning. “You were behind him yesterday at the coronation and everything, and now you don’t want to see him?”
Mai bit rather savagely into the next grape. “I just don’t want to, all right? Can’t it wait?”
“It’s really not so bad,” Ty Lee began hand-walking backwards. “He was fine to me this morning. Really nice, actually. I don’t remember him being so un-bad moody. In fact, you should have seen his aura! It wasn’t all black and muddy greens anymore. There were these nice dark reds and even gold and shiny yellows!”
“You know I don’t believe in auras,” Mai said absentmindedly. “And just because Zuko made you his Public Relations officer doesn’t mean anything for my situation.”
Ty Lee paused, hovering. And then her voice became serious. “You’re still mad at him, aren’t you?”
Luckily for the couch, Mai’s hands were empty as she clenched them suddenly in the folds of her robes. “Of course I am,” she muttered. “He left me, Ty Lee. With a letter. A damned letter.”
Ty Lee carefully lowered herself into a bridge position, her hands and feet planted firmly on the couch while her stomach arced towards the ceiling. Here we go again. “I don’t know, Mai. He seemed pretty insistent that I come talk to you about seeing him after his messenger said you weren’t coming out. Maybe he wants to get back together?”
Mai wavered for a moment. It seemed as if she’d liked Zuko forever now, from the crush she’d had as a child to the love that had seized her so unexpectedly when she’d seen him again. And now she was confused. She was still angry, there was no doubt about that. And she still loved him. She’d told Azula as much on the platform at the Boiling Rock. But his leaving, the prison, the coronation... something had shifted within her.
Mai pursed her lips. What does love mean, anyway? she wondered. I used to daydream about becoming Fire Lady. Sitting next to him on a throne. Helping him at the war meetings. Protecting him when he needed it. Fighting for him when he needed it.
“Maybe he does,” she finally said, her voice slightly hoarse. “But maybe I don’t want to. Has he thought about that?”
Ty Lee froze in midair. “Mai...”
“Is that what everyone thinks?” Mai sat up suddenly, her eyes narrowing. “That now that I’m out and he’s Fire Lord, we’ll just get back together? Is that what he thinks?”
She remembered Shen Li. “You’re Zuko’s Chief Bodyguard?”
“Yes. And you’re Zuko’s future Fire Lady.”
“No. I’m just Lady Mai.”
And the fact of it struck her across the face. That was what everyone had been thinking. She shook her head in sudden disgust.
“Well that’s just too bad,” she frowned. “Because that’s not what’s happening.”
Slowly, very slowly, Ty Lee lifted her legs back up until she could see her friend upside down again. “I thought you still loved him?”
It was such an innocent question. Mai’s frown deepened. “And what does that have to do with us getting back together?” she asked bitterly.
Ty Lee blinked. “Um, it just seems kind of logical, that’s all. I mean, when two people love each other, they become boyfriend and girlfriend, right?”
Mai hesitated. “Maybe... maybe this is different,” she said haltingly. “I...”
She stopped. She remembered. Things had seemed so.. so muddy after he’d left. The fire inside her had been so erratic and confused and hurt. But things were gradually becoming clearer now, now that she’d seen him again. Seen the difference. And there had been such difference...
Mai swallowed. She’d known, or thought she’d known the boy she’d gone out with for those brief weeks. He hadn’t seemed so hard to figure out then. He was wild, as tempestuous and uncontrolled as a forest fire. To touch him was to burn, even when he was still. She’d been so... happy to be with him then, to have her childhood dreams come through. But now as she looked back at their time with a more objective eye, she could see the problems. Like how when they’d touched, none of his fire had seeped through. Like how his kisses had tasted oddly of desperation and distance. Like how their words had seemed so meaningless. The only time they’d made connection, made any real connection was when they’d been angry at each other, at the Beach and at the Boiling Rock. And those were the moments when the boy she was comfortable with knowing as the angry, raging Prince had shown his depths to be much, much, more.
Mai closed her eyes. And yesterday... yesterday the Prince had become the Fire Lord. Had been regal with every step he took. Spoken words that had fired her heart and bound her to him even though the idea of kissing him somehow become foreign to her. After all, she didn’t know this boy. This man. She knew who he’d been, knew enough of what he’d been to have meant her promise to follow him. She still cared enough, maybe even loved enough. But the betrayal and the hurt and the anger had taken its toll. And with the time spent contemplating what kind of future she wanted in that hellhole of a prison, she knew that she wanted something more. Deserved something more.
“No.” She said. “This is different. I know it is.” She wet her lips. “I... still care for Zuko. I know that,” she let out a harsh laugh. “I don’t think I can contemplate a world without that, actually. But I also know what I want, now. I want someone who can work with me. Who can treat me like an equal. Who can trust me to watch my own back. Who.. who connects with me when we talk.”
Mai paused. Ty Lee waited, a silent gesture that Mai acknowledged with a nod. “I want so many things. And I’m beginning to see Zuko’s not the answer.”
Her eyes turned to flint at the memories. “He left me. Three times. Without saying anything. So no, I don’t want to get back together, and I don’t feel like talking to him right now either.”
Ty Lee bit her lip. “What about the boy outside?”
“He’ll give up,” Mai said with dry conviction. “I’m sure being Chief Bodyguard only gives him so much spare time.”
Ty Lee stopped midway in her handstand walk, arcing her head up to smile upside down at her friend. Of course, given the position she was in, it looked rather like a frown. “Chief Bodyguard? It’s just one of Zuko’s messenger people, actually. You know, the ones he sends to deliver royal commands and stuff?
Mai blinked “Not Shen Li?” she said blankly, and then suddenly scowled at the stupidity of her assumption. And those strange gnawing feelings of... disappointment? No. That can’t be right. “Oh well, so it’s a royal messenger. He can afford to wait for a few days.”
Ty Lee paused, and then twisted her balance to her left hand. “But can you?” she asked pointedly as she concentrated hard on the floor. “Come on, Mai. You know stewing here like this isn’t doing you any good. Even if you hide in here, you’ll still have to talk to him sometime.”
At the silence, she carefully shifted her weight back to her right, slowly lifting her left until it was parallel to her ears. “You might even feel better afterwards. At least you won’t have to constantly think about it! And it can take as long as you want it to as well. I mean, look at it this way. Either Zuko gets mad and you can feel better about it, or you’ll both be happy with it and you can finally start moving forwards again! Maybe even start looking at other boys! That’s a win-win situation, right?”
From her lounging position on the couch, Mai blinked. The fruit dropped back on the plate unnoticed. “You’re kidding me, aren’t you?”
Ty Lee’s grin could have been seen in Ba Sing Se. “Why not? I mean, what else have you done since you got back home? Mope around and avoid your parents? A few dates wouldn’t be too bad, would it? At least they’d give you something good to do!”
Despite herself, Mai gave her friend a rare, treasured half-smile. “Given my track record? I don’t think I really want to be jumping into another relationship anytime soon.”
“Pfeh,” Ty Lee arced her back. “Don’t start closing off your options before you start! What if you meet like, the perfect guy? Or like, this totally fated romantic opportunity falls into your lap?”
Mai couldn’t help it. The half-smile became a full one.“Don’t be right,” she warned her friend. “Things always get more complicated when you’re right.”
There were no more word needed than that. The acrobat laughed happily. “Oh don’t be silly, Mai!” she flipped back to her feet and started bouncing down the corridor, showing no ill-effects whatsoever from her extended time upside-down. “Now come on, let’s make you a free woman!”
Mai raised her eyebrow, moved languorously to her feet, and followed behind more sedately. “Whatever,” she said, unconvinced. “At least it definitely won’t be boring.”
8 8 8
It most certainly wasn’t.
Ty Lee left her at the entrance to the throne room for ‘some privacy’. The guards hesitated before letting her in, explaining that he was still holding court with his advisor, but when the messenger showed them his decree the doors opened without a creak. Mai walked through slowly, steeling herself like she was preparing for a battle. And then she glanced up, and realised something that she hadn’t expected.
It was the first time she’d seen him sit on the throne.
He looked small somehow, or perhaps that was the distance between them and the great vaulting arches of the ceiling and his fire. Mai paused for a moment at the sight, her expression unreadable as she tried to gather herself. Even though she’d seen him yesterday, accepted the differences in him as further proof that she was right in wanting to stay separate, it was hard to reconcile the objective knowledge with all of her subjective memories of him. He’d been an angry boy. Now, he was a regal figure on a throne, removed from her by gold and royal robes, and the hesitation from her was enough for her to hear the last few words from the man currently holding court with him.
“... perhaps with your uh, friend’s help the Water Tribes will be convinced. It will take some doing, though. The stories of unrest from there do not sit well from me.”
Zuko seemed lost in thought. “No,” he muttered. “Not with the Earth Kingdom’s hostility either... Mai!”
Mai held her ground. “I didn’t know you were busy, Fire Lord,” she said neutrally. “My apologies. I’ll come back later.”
Zuko blanched. “No, it’s all right,” his gaze switched back to the man in front of him. “We were just finishing, weren’t we Chief Advisor Hui?”
The old man bowed, then turned to nod at her. “He’s right. These problems might be solved better after a night’s sleep. I’ll leave him to you, Lady Mai.”
She barely heard at him, her eyes firmly settled on her ex. They stared at each other over the sound of the door closing, and suddenly Mai was more than content to be still, silent, and let him have the dubious honour of venturing the first word. Her chin lifted a little. He deserved it.
And he didn’t disappoint, either, Zuko swallowed, his face uncomfortable against the reflection of the flame. “I... I didn’t expect you to come so soon.”
Mai arched a perfect eyebrow. “Want me to leave?”
“No!” the word burst from his mouth, and then he quieted. “I mean, well...”
She watched as he cast his gaze around, noting the coldness of the stone, the hardness of the tiles and gold, the vastness of the space. “Actually, maybe we should.” He stood up suddenly, the fire falling to his feet with a crackle, his eyes on the doors outside where the guards stood. “Let’s talk in my study.”
He’d barely gotten a step when she rolled her eyes. “Come on, Zuko. Does it really make a difference?”
He paused. “Yes, actually, it does,” he said, his voice deceptively casual. “In my study, we won’t be disturbed by anyone unless it’s really important.”
His eyes flicked to hers. “And right now, I don’t want to be disturbed.”
Mai wanted to laugh. It didn’t feel joyful. She felt the words rising up in her throat; dry, cutting words that could end it all in half the time it took to walk to his stupid study, but then she restrained herself. Even if he didn’t deserve it, she did. A long talk could end it properly.
“Fine,” she said, and the single syllable sustained them both all the way out the throne room, down the various corridors and through the passageway into his study.
Mai frowned as he closed the door and turned to her. She’d never been to the study before. While the floor-length window looking out to the city created the illusion of space, it felt far too small to breathe at the moment. Then again, perhaps it was just her.
Zuko shifted. “We can talk now,” he said unnecessarily.
“Good. Where do you want to start?”
Zuko paused. In the space between them, she suddenly became utterly aware of how the mid-afternoon sun highlighted his scar. He looked uncomfortable in his royal robes now, the crown an unneeded ornament in their privacy. A painful smile crossed his face as he looked at her. “How about ‘I’m sorry’?” he asked quietly. “I know it’s overdue. I know I hurt you when I left. I know I hurt you before I left, when my anger and my confusion just got too much for me. And I’m sorry.”
A deaf person could have heard the sincerity in his voice, the raw honesty and hurt, and unbidden, a dull burn rose up behind her eyelids in response. For a moment, Mai was frozen in complete shock, and then she pushed both the burn and the stillness angrily away.. No. No. They’d barely started. She’d barely started. She was not going to cry now... she was surprised she could even recognise it.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d wept. It must have been years.
“Okay, fine. You’re sorry,” she swallowed hoarsely. “That changes nothing.”
He missed a breath. “How can you say that?” Zuko demanded. “It... it’s all I can do.” He clenched his teeth. “Mai, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to leave you, I didn’t...”
She cut him off. “Do you even know what you’re sorry for? How you hurt me?” she shook her head. “I don’t think so. And while you don’t know, you can’t be sorry. So there.”
He stared at her, irritation beginning to mix in with the sorrow in his face. “I thought I just... no. Fine. How about you tell me, then, since I don’t know? How about you say something out loud, for once in our relationship?”
Her contemptuous gaze turned his sorrow into bitterness. Zuko dropped his hands and turned away from her. “Oh wait, I forgot. You telling me something might mean expressing yourself.”
Mai froze, and then laughed this time. Out loud. It tasted terrible. “You want me to express myself? Fine. Then you’d better deal with what you get, Zuko, because it’s your damn fault I’m feeling this way.” It’s your damn fault I started feeling at all.
Mai took a breath. The hurt that had ripped her open from the moment she’d found the letter, so many weeks ago, swirled through her insides like molten lava. “I’m a warrior, Zuko. You said it yourself. I can take care of things. I can take of myself. So why... why if you felt like you were so right about turning against your Father... why didn’t you bring me along?”
The sight of his shock turned the bitterness like a wheel inside her. “I... cared for you, Zuko. I told you that. You could have at least told me to my face. I would have followed you.”
“Mai, I...”
“I’m not finished yet!” she snapped, and he subsided. “I turned on Azula for you, Zuko. Doesn’t that tell you something?”
His gaze was heavy. “It does now. But Mai, I... I never meant to hurt you. You have to believe me.” Something grew strong in him as he remembered, and he set his shoulders back from where they’d slumped at her words. “I did the right thing, Mai, I know it. You... I couldn’t have brought you into that.”
She stared at him, hard. “You didn’t even think about it, did you?”
She was surprised when he answered without hesitation. “You’re right. I didn’t.”
Mai felt the corners of her mouth press down tightly. So it was out there. Out loud. She’d been right, and the knowledge of that hurt more than she wanted to. And with it came a fresh conviction.
It was over. Truly, irrevocably over.
Something in her face must have changed, must have set, because he spoke again, more urgently this time but with no less surety. “I couldn’t have, Mai. Don’t you understand? You still think I was wrong to join the Avatar, don’t you? But I look around this study, this place where my Father wrote down the orders for war and the letters of death, and I know that even though I hate all of it, I’ll still try and use my position to help. I’ve seen things you can’t even comprehend, Mai.”
Perhaps it was the confidence in his voice, the strength and conviction coming from the erratic youth she’d known which unsettled her. Or maybe it was just because he’d gotten her angry. “I’m not a sheltered little girl, Zuko! You left me for two weeks in prison, that alone should be enough!”
“The warden,” he said, and she couldn’t help but blink at the change. “Did the warden protect you?”
Well, well. Deja vu. “The warden’s my uncle, you idiot,” she snapped. “Of course he protected me. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t locked up in a cell!”
He passed his hand over his face, steepled his fingers to his forehead. “You don’t even know what I’m talking about,” he said with a strange sort of awe, and then shook himself out of it. “No. I know you’re a warrior, Mai. But there’s so much I can’t explain to you. You were locked up for two weeks, Mai. And I’m sorry for that, I really am. But I... I was banished for over two years. I spent what seemed like a lifetime staring out into the sea and wondering why the world hated me.”
“Oh have a tissue,” she rolled her eyes to cover up the sting of his words. And then she stopped when he glared at her.
“I’m not finished yet,” he said, and she took a moment to appreciate how quick the reversal had been. “Would you really have followed me, Mai? You’ve never seen what I have. The people in the dust. You haven’t heard what I have. So many words of hate. Why would you turn against everything you know? You said I’d betrayed my country.”
She bit the inside of her cheek. “I betrayed my country too. When I was saving you.”
He halted, suddenly unable to meet her gaze..
“Why would I turn against everything I know? Perhaps because I care,” her voice cracked a little, and she hated herself for it. “I care about you, Zuko.” I loved you.
The hiss and snap of the fireplace was the only sound in the silence. He raised his eyes back up again to meet hers. “Is that what you meant?” he asked quietly. “When you promised to follow me?”
The dynamics of the room shifted. She stepped back. He stepped closer, his face open but unreadable. “What did you mean, Mai? You’ve been talking like it’s over. Like we’re over. But yesterday you promised me that you’d follow me. Did you... did you even know what that meant? I once had a duty to find the Avatar. Now I have a duty to try to mend this broken world. Can you even comprehend what that means?”
She said nothing, transfixed by the finality of it all. The flaring, tempestuous, spoilt Prince was gone. In his place stood a quietly determined Fire Lord, his piercing golden eyes shining with controlled fire and intensity.
She wasn’t sure she knew who he was.
“I’m sorry, Zuko,” she said quietly, and even though she was still angry, she felt the importance of what he was asking overlay her own turmoil. Although when they’d gone from talking about hurt and sidestepping the issue of them to saving the world she didn’t know. “I don’t go for the big and grand gestures. So no, maybe I can’t comprehend this ‘broken world’ of yours. But what I do know is that you’re the Fire Lord, and I’m a warrior of the Fire Nation.” You’re Zuko, and I’m Mai. “So yes. I will follow you. I will make sure no other two-bit assassin tries to end you. I will use my knives to fight for your cause if you ask me.”
“And if I ask you to forgive me?”
The strange calmness around her shattered. The anger came rushing back to fill the void. “No. You don’t deserve that yet. You don’t deserve me.”
He winced. “Mai, I’m sorry. I am. But that’s all I’m asking. Forgiveness now, nothing else.”
“Oh Zuko, you still don’t get it,” she wanted to laugh, but it would hurt too much now. “At the end of the day, it’s not even about forgiveness. It’s about the fact that you couldn’t see me. You couldn’t trust me enough to have you back when you needed it. What was I actually to you, Zuko? A pair of arms?” She remembered the first night back in Ba Sing Se, when she’d said words and he’d buried his face in her shoulder, and a sudden pain stabbed through her heart. Her uncertainty at his spurts of fury when they’d been together, her forced musings in prison, her unchecked thoughts at home... they all coalesced together in with a sudden clarity that she was surprised she hadn’t seen it earlier. “Was that all I was to you? Is that all I am to you now? Just comfort? Something safe to hold onto?”
Zuko’s face twisted. “Don’t, Mai. Don’t put words in my mouth.”
Her mouth compressed. “Is it wrong if its true? We never really connected, did we? I could never help you when you were angry. You never told me about what was truly wrong.”
“That’s because you never let me!” Zuko growled, his fists balled at his sides now. “Damn it, Mai, I tried too. Tried to get you to connect with me. Tried to make you happy. But whenever we’d talk and we started going somewhere, you’d... you’d kiss me. Or start talking about ordering servants around, as if that could fix my problems, as if that could fix any of our problems!”
She was stung. “You wanted me to fix your problems? What else did you want me to do, win the war singlehandedly and heal your scar?”
The words were like a bucket of water. Zuko calmed himself slowly, controlling his breathing through gritted teeth. “I’m sorry,” he glanced away from her.
I’m sorry too. “You should be.”
Another silence. She was getting so sick of those. Its clarity began to leech away at the anger, leaving her listless, drained, and wishing she could go back to the days when she didn’t have to feel anything besides boredom.
“So what now?”
She lifted her head, oddly reassured by the confidence in his voice. It was funny how he could still sound so in control, even when he was deliberately throwing the ball into her court. “We agree that we can’t do this,” she said neutrally. “We agree that we don’t want to do this. You help save the world, and I... I try to find a place in it, I guess.”
The question in his look burned through her skin.
“I did mean what I said, Zuko,” she said quietly. “I do still care. And I will follow you.”
“But what does that even mean?” he asked, just as quietly.
Mai opened her mouth, ready to say anything. But before she could, the study door suddenly crashed to the side and both of them leapt backwards, her hands going automatically to the senbon concealed beneath her robes and his settling into a firebending position.
“Zuko!”
Shen Li burst into the room in a rush of paper and armour. “Zuko! They told me I’d find you here. With... oh. Lady Mai.”
He inclined his head, and she snorted at how he could still be so gentlemanly when something was clearly wrong. Besides her, Zuko stepped forwards in concern.
“What’s happened, Shen Li?”
The guard captain straightened. “What we were worried about,” he said grimly. “A number of reports have just reached us from the inland towns and villages, some of them small they don’t even have messenger hawks. There have been attacks by Fire Nation soldiers.”
Zuko swore and spun around, his robes flying out behind him as he regarded the map on the floor. Mai blinked. Her eyes had been pretty much focused on Zuko the entire time they’d been in the room, and so she hadn’t seen the rows of blood-red figurines scattered across the centre of the floor.
“It has to be them.” he muttered. “But why?” he glanced back up at Shen Li. “Did they give any more details?”
“They gave abundantly more,” Shen Li said dryly. “Most of those villages have been destroyed. Burned down completely. The refugees are all heading towards the capitol here. It’s the boys who were sent ahead who gave the reports. Whoever these soldiers are, they’re claiming they don’t recognise your sovereignty.”
Zuko narrowed his eyes and scanned the map again. “The scouts?” he asked, his voice clipped.
Shen Li shook his head. “Nothing. And we did arrange that they’d give us daily reports with the messenger hawk.”
“How well trained are they?” Zuko demanded. “Could they have forgotten?”
Shen Li shook his head again. “They’re fresh from the Academy, but they’re exceptionally well-trained, young, and eager. I’d have expected two reports a day instead of none at all.”
“Damn it!” Zuko swore. “As if we didn’t have enough trouble already. What with the Water Tribes and the Earth Kingdom... and now a not-so secret army.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Agni. Fire Nation soldiers. Attacking my people.”
Mai frowned from where she’d been regarding them, listening. “An insurgent movement?”
Shen Li paused, his questioning eyes instantly flicking to Zuko. Zuko didn’t even bother to nod. “Yes. We only suspected it at first, but these reports are pretty conclusive. Not to mention our scouts’ ‘mysterious’ disappearance.”
He paused, glanced at the stewing Fire Lord, and went on. “I don’t like this,” he declared bluntly. “We’re already in a fairly vulnerable situation, especially with most of our soldiers still overseas...”
“Or in the ‘secret army’ itself, I think,” Zuko finished grimly for him. “You’re right, this isn’t good. I just wish... aargh!” The Fire Lord banged down on the arm of his throne in a distinctly undignified manner. “If only I could go check it out myself! I just want to know what we’re up against and what we can do. Strengths, weaknesses, negotiations, bargaining, or... Agni help us, even fighting. We need information for all of that!”
Mai got there before Shen Li could. “No,” she said bluntly, forcefully. “You can’t afford to just fly out there wildly now, Zuko. Not when things are so unstable.”
Zuko ground his teeth. “I know. Damn it, I wish Uncle was here! We need someone out there, and not just the scouts. Someone with experience. Someone I can actually trust. Not just well-trained scouts still wet behind the ears.”
A sudden gleam came on from behind Shen Li’s shadowed eyes. “My Lord, you’ve ruffled a fair few feathers with my appointment... but if I could be so presumptuous as to suggest I take a brief leave of absence? Say, two or three days?”
Zuko caught on immediately. “Will two or three days be enough?” he queried. “It’ll take you at least a day to travel inland far enough to start your investigations.”
Shen Li grinned, despite the strain on his face. “Then I’d best get started, my Lord.”
The sheer speed at which everything had unfolded was enough to make her blink. Between them, Mai could feel her heart beating rapidly against her chest. But then, as if to prove that her body had grasped things faster than her mind, she felt words rose up in her throat. “I’m going too.”
In the silence that followed, Mai wished she could stare at herself as well. Now where did that come from? a part of her wondered clinically. The question was a good one; mere moments ago it felt like all she could think about was how to throttle her ex without killing him. Still, it didn’t take as long as she thought it would to find the answer.
After all, She’d promised to follow him. And hadn’t Ty Lee mentioned moping around and avoiding her parents?
Zuko picked his jaw off the ground. “What did you just say?”
Mai shot him a withering look. “You heard me,” she straightened her shoulders. “I’m going too.” Her mind began whirring again, the possibilities of the future and the arguments preventing it leaping quickly into life. “Anything that can take down five trained Fire Nation scouts will need at least two people to investigate it.”
To her surprise, the guard captain merely looked at her appraisingly. “The point of this mission is stealth,” he countered.
Her eyes narrowed at the challenge. “Fine, I’ll go alone.”
“Wait, wait,” Zuko found his voice again, raising his hands as he stepped between the two of them. “Who said you’re going anywhere?”
Mai glared. “And who said I’m not?” she snapped back. “Remember, I can handle myself. And besides, you owe me the opportunity to get out of my house and away from my family.”
The Fire Lord shook his head in disbelief. “If that’s what this is about, you can stay in the palace! Mai...”
“Two or three days, Zuko,” she cut him off. “That’s all your precious Chief Bodyguard can afford. But me? I can go for much longer, you know that. All we have to do is tell my parents I’m going away again, for you this time. It’ll make sense since I stood behind you at your coronation at all. Besides, they were used to me following Azula.”
He opened his mouth to say something. Mai lifted her head, her amber eyes hard. “Are you going to stop me, Zuko?”
The Fire Lord pulled back. It was funny, Zuko thought briefly at the back of his mind. She sounded like she normally did. Dry. Bored. Careless. And yet, this time he was sure that the layer of steel underlining her tone had just cut through his chest like a knife. Her pale face was regal as they matched gazes, so certain and determined he almost drew in a breath.
She had never been so beautiful. And yet, she had never been further away from him. In vain, Zuko tried to search for the small spot of softness in her eyes that she’d always reserved for him, the one that he remembered as a child and which had drawn him to her that first night in Ba Sing Se...
But it wasn’t there. It was gone, and somewhere inside him, he felt his heart physically clench in recognition.
And yet...
In its place, something else shimmered. Zuko leaned closer almost unconsciously, drawn by the strange, distorted reflection of himself in her irises and the little spark of mystery he didn’t recognise. It seemed to smooth out her angular face, bringing a startling, quiet strength to it. And suddenly, even though she seemed so far away from him, he knew that he had never looked so deeply into her soul.
“No.”
The word was hoarse after the silence. Zuko swallowed, and repeated it louder, and then seconds later saw the change come over her. In an instant, she shut away from him, the mirror into her soul closing up before his very eyes, and it took him just a little longer to realise what it meant.
“No, I won’t stop you,” the words came tumbling out, and suddenly he couldn’t stop them even as she glanced back up at him in surprise. Mai. Feeling. “I won’t. You’re right, I owe you that.”
He shook his head again, this time more to himself than anything else. I can’t believe this is happening. He suddenly remembered the other occupant of the room, and shifted to face him. “Shen Li?”
The guard captain smiled easily at the unspoken question. “You won’t even miss us, Fire Lord.”
Zuko didn’t blink at the reacquired formality. Somehow, it seemed strangely comfortable coming from the other’s lips, almost grounding as it helped ease him back into reality once more. Zuko sighed and stepped backwards. “I’d better not,” he grinned wryly. “But you’re right. I should be able to hold down the fort here with Sokka and Suki. Chief Advisor Hui is proving himself useful as well.”
As quickly as he’d flashed it, Shen Li’s smile suddenly dropped from his face. “Be careful with Hui, Zuko,” he warned, all the jovial formality in his voice vanishing with his smile. “I may have just been a simple guard captain before you came, but even guard captains have ears. And eyes. And guts and gut instincts.”
The fire crackled. “I can handle Hui,” Zuko said confidently. “He’s an opportunist. As long as I’m Fire Lord, it’s worth his while to help me.”
Mai frowned. “Don’t get too sure of yourself,” she warned. “And watch your back. I’d hate to think we went to all that trouble yesterday just to come back and find you dead.”
Zuko didn’t deign to answer that. Instead, he pinned her with a piercing look. “You be careful,” he said. Perhaps it was the way he said it, but it almost sounded like an order. Mai watched as he turned to face Shen Li. “You both be careful.”
“We will,” the guard captain promised. “I mean, what could possibly happen?”
The laughter in his voice made Zuko groan. “Don’t tempt me,” he muttered, and the guard captain chuckled as he inclined his head and moved to the door. Mai shook her head and followed, her mind on the hours ahead. It wouldn’t take too long to gather up her traveling gear again. Even less to outfit herself again. And then they’d be away from here, out into the heart of the Fire Nation and away from the capitol and its ruler...
Suddenly, Mai stopped.
And to the surprise of them all, she turned back to face Zuko and bowed. Just high enough to leave her with the grace of a queen, but just low enough to make her point. And when she raised her head again, Zuko was staring at her, his golden eyes wide and transfixed.
“My Lord.” she said formally.
And then she turned and walked out of the study, Shen Li at her side, never looking back at the stunned Fire Lord she’d once dreamt of marrying. And it was oddly fitting that as she stepped into the corridor, a strange sense of finality and purpose settled onto her shoulders and the bundle of nerves and hurt eased.
No more questions. No more anguish. The verdict had been made.
It was over.
