There was always a price to pay.
Her marriage to Zuko could not have been without consequence, Mai knew. It was unlike her to have forgotten. It had just been so easy to get caught up and carried away in their happiness, and Mai wasn't sure she could regret leaving it untouched by the gray pragmatism that usually clung to her so forcefully. But that had made the descent back into reality that much more jarring.
They had been separated at the first opportunity, Zuko shipped away to confer with other world leaders, and Mai dismissed unceremoniously to her parents' home to await his return and her coronation, both delayed indefinitely. Zuko had assured her before he left that everything would be all right, but Mai was unconvinced. He had also promised her to write at every opportunity, and she had yet to receive a single word. Sure though she was that there was some explanation, she couldn't think of one that was especially comforting.
Mai had never been especially loved at court, at best thought of as too ambitious, devious, and dangerous to make anyone comfortable. At worst... Mai couldn't even flatter herself that she'd heard the worst of it, though she suspected her shifting alliances, raising her to Zuko's side when Azula's star fell, had earned her more enemies than even she realized. Mai also knew an unmarried ruler in a tumultuous political climate had been a powerful tool, and she had taken that from the nation, offering nothing in return.
Mai's mother had been the first to point out Mai's poor timing and execution of the whole affair. The very least Mai could have done was come back carrying Zuko's child, her mother insisted, which would have undoubtedly helped secure her position, if not buy her a few more supporters. Mai couldn't even argue. From this side of things, from court, everything looked like a mistake. The elopement, which had seemed so necessary and romantic at the time, now just appeared the ill-thought-out and impatient notion of two children. All the time it would have taken to arrange a proper marriage between herself and the Fire Lord, which had looked so vast and unending and so utterly fraught with complications, resolved itself to nothing when Mai compared it with the ordeal ahead of her now.
With Zuko away, her parents chiding her, the sense that her fate was being decided elsewhere, and her total powerlessness against any of it, Mai had to stop and wonder how the happiest period in her life had so quickly warped itself into a startlingly accurate likeness of the worst.
The ship was sailing at dawn, and Mai couldn't sleep. Outwardly, she still looked as calm as ever, but inside, her mind raged. She didn't understand any of it, how quickly it had all changed. She hadn't even known Zuko was attending that stupid meeting, and now her life was falling apart because of it.
She couldn't figure out what was happening. She had stood facing Azula, keeping her face blank and her hands still, as the princess told her about Zuko... about Zuko's banishment... about Zuko's face. Azula had watched her eyes carefully, the one place Mai might most clearly betray herself. Despite Mai's best efforts, there must have been something there; nothing else would warrant the sadistic grin Azula flashed at her. It had just been too much. Mai could only think of Zuko, not able to believe that he was really gone, that he had left without telling her anything. Leaving her to find out from Azula had seemed like the worst of it, at the time.
Her parents, concerned and panicked, had pressed her for information, berating her for not telling them what she didn't even know. She had almost wanted to lie, to tell them that Zuko told her something, anything, before he left, and not only to appease them; she had wanted desperately for it to be true.
It was days later, finally numb to the shock, that Mai began to realize why her parents were so frightened. She had been invited to the palace often, but that was before. When this invitation arrived, her parents cautioned her, again and again, to be on her very best behavior. Do not offend the princess. Do not speak of the prince. Everything depends on it.
The visit was markedly different from the previous ones. Something had changed in Azula, and though Mai wasn't sure what it was, she didn't like it. Mai was fortunate and well-bred enough to always live in fear of those who could take it all away, but never before had she felt so close to being cast aside, like a servant Azula had lost patience with. Mai felt herself teetering on that brink, and Azula was enjoying it, toying with Mai's fate like a cat with a mouse.
It had been a weak moment, a stupid one, but Mai's fingers had gone to the knives in her sleeve. Just to touch one, just for comfort, just to remind herself that she was more than a mouse. But Azula hadn't missed the movement, and glared at Mai.
"My brother was an insubordinate fool," Azula purred softly, though the threat was roaring behind her eyes. "He deserved what he got."
Mai had nodded, unsure how else to reply.
Azula had tilted her head, ready to pounce. "Are you afraid of me?" It was at least as much threat as question.
She wanted to be defiant, glare at Azula, and say no; Mai wanted to lie. But she couldn't. She was too scared to even tell the truth.
That seemed to satisfy Azula better than anything. She smirked then, a victorious grin that would become impossibly wide and twisted in Mai's memory. It reminded Mai that her life depended on being able to make her princess smile like that, that Azula was the one who mattered, the one who held Mai's fate in her hands. Mai was no one.
She confessed it all to her parents, even her own foolishness with the knife, and watched, impassive, as they decided what to do with her. Mai accepted their decision; they cared about her happiness no more than Azula did, but at least their hopes and aspirations were intertwined with Mai's life, and they had some stake in it. She understood that her ties to Zuko, once considered the stroke of good fortune that could raise her family so high, could now ruin them all if Azula's trust in Mai wavered even slightly. It was unsafe to stay here, so close to the eyes that would watch her for even the smallest suggestion of disloyalty.
Mai never cried. The life she had always known was unrecognizable now, anyway; she wouldn't miss it. As far as she was concerned, one life lived in fear was the same as another. It was the bitterness that had kept her awake that night. She resented everyone. Azula, her parents, Zuko. And herself most of all, for being nothing more than a plaything to the prince and princess and a pawn in her parents' social ventures, for ever letting herself think she was any more important than that, and for still being afraid of losing it all.
The fears chased her across the islands and the next two years. Azula's smirk grew wider.
There were precious few places Mai could go for comfort. She trusted no one and, especially without Zuko, no one trusted her. She told herself to be smart and above all patient, but the loneliness in the interim was crushing.
Ty Lee's visit to the capital was a welcome respite from it all. The visit might have been awkward for two with a shared past like theirs, had Ty Lee not been Ty Lee. She simply wouldn't allow the bad parts into the conversation, nor would she permit Mai to wallow in her bleak reality, and it was difficult not to oblige her.
"I just wish I had any word from Zuko at all," Mai confessed to Ty Lee, the former seated demurely under a tree the latter was hanging from.
"Why?" Ty Lee asked, inverted.
The question caught Mai a little off guard. She didn't expect to have to explain, especially to Ty Lee. "Well, I haven't heard from him. I'd like to."
"I understood that part," Ty Lee said, effortlessly swinging to another branch. "But why? You always said his letters were pretty bad."
That much was true. "They would be better than nothing."
"That's not what you've said before," Ty Lee shrugged, balancing one-legged on a branch. "Unless he's gotten better at saying the right things, it seems to me that without him here to try to explain what he actually meant to say, you both might be better off just knowing that he's thinking of you."
Mai sighed. "That's why I want him to write. I don't know that he's thinking of me at all."
Ty Lee flipped out of the tree to land lightly in front of Mai, blinking at her. "Of course you do. He's Zuko. You're Mai."
Mai had never been more idle than she was during those years away from the capital. Initially she had spent some time with her mother's parents, training in etiquette to make up for the schooling she had been pulled out of. Those lessons and the general atmosphere had been harsh enough to make her mother seem lax. She had endured it until they attempted to take her knives away, at which point she was sent to stay with her uncle until her parents figured out what to do with her. She had liked it there with him. Her mother had naturally raised objections, but compared to her grandparents' home, the prison was a delight. True, there was little enough to do, but Mai's uncle had made the time bearable.
It had taken some time for them to get a feel for one another. He seemed genuinely interested in Mai's thoughts and feelings, and that had made her suspicious at first. It was the letter from home telling Mai about her new baby brother that had finally done the trick. Her mother had written, gushing about the baby, and when Mai shared the letter with her uncle, he'd just rolled his eyes, looking slightly disgusted with the news. Mai had smiled at that, and the two warmed considerably to each other afterward.
Instead of discouraging her skills, he'd helped Mai train with her knives, going so far as to produce sparring partners from his own staff. He'd also listened patiently whenever Mai spoke about home and what had happened there, about Azula and her parents, about Zuko. His input was some of the best anyone had given Mai. He showed her a scar on his back, explaining that he'd gotten it when a prisoner attacked him with firebending, and told her about the pain, about how he couldn't sleep or think straight for days, that sometimes the scar still burned, even so many years later.
"I don't know exactly what happened to your prince," her uncle had ventured, "but it sounds like it was bad, and it might not be the worst thing to forgive him for how he left you."
"You're a strange one to teach forgiveness," Mai had said dryly, but took his council regardless.
It was easier to let the bitterness go as she started to feel more like a visitor than an exile. She could see a little more clearly from here, under a roof with some of the worst criminals in the Fire Nation, that the real danger was back at the capital, and for now at least, she was best removed from it. Happier, too, or at least less miserable. The forgiveness came easier to Mai after she realized that.
She was called away from her uncle soon after; her parents had found a place for her with a friend of her father's family. Her uncle knew the woman, an older widow, and approved of the arrangement.
"A prison is no place for a lady like yourself. You might get bored there, but no one should get in your way, either," he said gruffly, one corner of his mouth twitching upwards. She had told him about her mother's family, and that had amused him. "So keep practicing with those knives."
This cell was cold. Mai and Ty Lee were wrapped in cloaks, their breath steaming, as the waterbenders brought her in.
Mai had not wanted to be here to begin with, and though she wanted to flee, it was too late for that. Ty Lee's insistence and her stubborn courage made it easier to bear, but it was nevertheless difficult to see Azula again. Mai hardly recognized the princess. They were warned about her hair: cut short after she had singed off a good deal of it. But no warning could have prepared Mai for those eyes. They reminded Mai of caged animals, furiously throwing themselves at the bars, unable to understand their captivity.
The way Ty Lee spoke to Azula, one would think the princess hadn't changed and they were children again, all three, sitting idly in the garden. Mai remained silent, trying to rally her courage as Ty Lee filled Azula in on what she'd been up to. Mai watched the princess carefully, trying to reacquaint herself with this stranger in front of her, to no avail. She couldn't tell if Azula was listening, or if she could even understand Ty Lee's words. It seemed impossible to tell just how much of the princess remained, if she knew Mai and Ty Lee as her old friends, or if Azula just saw enemies before her, enemies everywhere.
Eventually even Ty Lee had given up, and the two left, shedding the cloaks and returning to the warmth outside, leaving their princess in that icy tomb.
Mai had wanted to speak to Azula. She wanted to say that she wasn't afraid anymore. She mattered. She wasn't no one. But the lies had frozen in Mai's throat, and Azula smiled at her.
Mai had to admit, the circus did seem like a good fit for Ty Lee. She had seemed a little more alive out on her own, away from her family and the palace.
Mai knew that Ty Lee's parents had always struggled a little bit to keep her enrolled at the Royal Academy, and gathered that might have something to do with her sudden departure from the place, but with Ty Lee's talk of fate and destiny and callings as they applied to balancing on a wire for an audience, it was difficult to say for sure. It was easy to get caught up in Ty Lee's attitude, and Mai found herself more homesick and eager for news from the capital than she would have expected of herself. Ty Lee happily obliged Mai's curiosity, telling her that while Azula undoubtedly missed her old companions, Ty Lee hadn't even seen a whole lot of her before she left; Princess Azula had been busy, now that she was her father's undisputed successor. Mai had a vague idea what that meant, as Zuko had often spoken about that side of being of a prince, but imagined that it kept Azula even more occupied; Ozai had confidence in her he never had in Zuko.
Ty Lee had tilted her head and announced suddenly, "You look like you're doing okay. With Zuko and leaving and your parents' new baby, I would have thought you'd be more depressed than ever, but you look... calm."
Mai supposed that was true. None of that had bothered her for a while now.
"It's so weird how much things have changed," Ty Lee noted.
"That's what things do."
"Well, I know that, but..." Ty Lee bit her lip. "I guess there were some things I just never imagined changing." She managed to meet Mai's eyes. "But they did."
You mean me and Zuko, Mai thought, and sighed a little sadly, nodding.
Ty Lee had looked a little guilty, then shook her head stubbornly, banishing whatever pessimistic demons had seized her a moment ago. "But it's not like things are over. Maybe... maybe some of them haven't really changed. You'll see."
"I suppose I will." It was easier not to argue with an optimistic Ty Lee.
Mai had the suspicion that Ty Lee had planned to keep her company until Zuko's return, and hadn't expected that to take so long and keep getting pushed farther away.
"You don't have to stay with me," Mai managed to tell her friend, though she couldn't look at Ty Lee when she said it, so instead Mai told the ground at her feet.
"Do you want me to leave?" Ty Lee asked, her voice sounding slightly wounded.
"No."
"Okay then," she answered, more brightly.
"It's just... I don't think Zuko is coming back soon."
"All the more reason for me to stay." Ty Lee bounced along beside Mai as they paced the halls; the movement seemed to do them both some good. "Besides, it hasn't been that long, Mai. Even for you..." Ty Lee hesitated a moment before continuing, "I'm a little surprised you're being this gloomy about it."
"What's not to be gloomy about?" Mai asked miserably.
Ty Lee seemed taken aback by that, wanting to scoff or laugh at Mai's attitude. Instead, she flipped on to her hands, keeping Mai's pace as they continued down the hall. "Well, for starters, you're married. I don't know how you manage to be unhappy about that."
Mai began to object, but Ty Lee didn't seem to realize.
"And you know he's coming back this time, Mai. You should stop forgetting that part." Ty Lee was always a little bit bolder when she was doing her acrobatic tricks. She smoothly transitioned back to her feet, somehow not even breaking her gait.
Mai wasn't sure what to say to that. Things were much more complicated than Ty Lee seemed to realize, but Mai couldn't deny that there was more to be optimistic about this time. "Thank you," she said finally.
"I know it's not perfect yet, Mai, but you're so close. Maybe that's why it feels so far?" she shrugged.
"You sound like Iroh."
Ty Lee just grinned.
Mai had been almost thrilled when she got the letter from her parents, asking her to meet them at the capital. She had scarcely dared to believe she was finally being called back, wanted somewhere. But she had believed it, which made it all the more crushing when she just met her family to board another boat immediately and leave for the Earth Kingdom.
Mai's ears were ringing with disappointment, making it nearly impossible to understand her mother's explanation. It had been two years. How could it still be unsafe to be near the palace after two years? She missed it all, the society, the culture... Azula. She knew the princess would have some choice words about Mai's family's conduct right now, and wished she could hear them. Mai just wanted to be around someone who understood her, and there were few enough who could claim that; bitterly, she doubted she would find any of them in the Earth Kingdom.
She didn't have much patience for her family to begin with, and what little she had managed to keep after they started their voyage was worn thin by the time they arrived in New Ozai. Her new brother laughed too much, her mother nagged her, and her father was too distracted to notice any of it. Had Mai been the kind of girl who cried, her memories of New Ozai would have been tear-stained beyond all recognition. But instead, Mai just kept her face blank, as her mother had taught her, and waited.
The letter from her uncle had helped. He had assured her that it could have been worse; Mai might have been promised to one of Ozai's pets in the military, offered as a prize to a relentlessly ambitious man with a fearsome temper, a bonus to go with his promotion to Admiral. And she may have only narrowly escaped that fate and should be thankful. The way her uncle wrote, Mai had no doubts this was more than conjecture, and suspected he might have even known the man, and clearly didn't approve of the match to his niece. Mai had debated prying for more details, wondering if it was her uncle's or even her parents' objections that had dissolved the arrangement, but couldn't bring herself to ask, sensing the answer wouldn't offer her much comfort. She felt luckier, though; there was no denying that.
At her mother's insistence, Mai was costumed in her very best finery, primped and ornamented beyond recognition. Her painted face watched Zuko's procession to the palace, and tried to avoid looking at Ty Lee, who seemed unable to look at Mai without laughing. She would have much rather met Zuko when he landed, but her family had insisted that this was the proper way to do things. That didn't stop her from feeling terribly foolish.
Mai's heart was racing by the time his palanquin arrived and positively pounding when he pulled back the curtain and she saw his face again. He had swept her up and kissed her, in front of everyone, before Mai could remember the proper greeting she was supposed to use.
It was only after he pulled away, slightly smudged with Mai's makeup, that Zuko seemed to realize: "What are you wearing?"
"Don't ask," she groaned, wiping his face with her sleeve. She had only just gotten the red off of his lips when he kissed her again. "Zuko," she scolded halfheartedly, finding a clean bit of sleeve to use.
"Leave it," he shrugged. "I'm just going to kiss you again." It was only then that he seemed to notice Ty Lee grinning at him. She waved when he saw her. "Why... What brings you here, Ty Lee?" he asked cordially.
"I came to see Mai!" Ty Lee answered brightly, clinging to her arm. By then Zuko's eyes had returned to Mai, so Ty Lee announced, "I should leave you!"
When Ty Lee hugged her goodbye, Mai took her chance to whisper, "He doesn't need to know what I was like. Don't tell him. Please." Ty Lee gave her a quick affirmative squeeze and bounced away.
Zuko hardly seemed to notice her go; Mai had his attention again. He offered his arm, leading her into the palace. After weeks of being kept away, the effortlessness of it might have been enough to make Mai laugh, if Zuko hadn't chosen that moment to ask, "You're... you're not going to dress like that for your coronation are you?"
Mai glared at him.
"Just checking!" He contemplated her frown for a moment, then took her hand. "Come on."
He led her to the fountain, where he soaked one of his Fire Lord sleeves and moved to start helping her remove the makeup. She dodged. "Zuko, don't... You're a Fire Lord... Your sleeve...!"
"Mai, hold still, or I'm just going to throw you in the fountain and be done with it."
"You wouldn't dare," Mai responded, but obediently allowed Zuko to start scrubbing at the ridiculous mess on her face. Eyes closed, the rush of the fountain the only sound, and Zuko... it was the first time Mai had felt truly at ease in a while.
"There," Zuko announced, gently wiping the last of it from her eyes. "Hi."
She opened her eyes and allowed a slight smile. "Hi."
"I'm sorry I was gone so long; it felt like forever. I hated leaving you here."
Mai considered asking him about the letters he was supposed to have sent, the plans for her coronation, why he had stayed away so long. She debated commiserating, sharing her own ordeal, but instead she just shrugged. "It was fine, Zuko."