Fire Lady
The people whisper that the seat is cursed, a final act of defiance before Fire Lady Mehalia put a sacred obsidian dagger through her heart. Not one Lady or Princess since then has had the chance at a long and happy life. But if anyone can overcome the impossible, it's Katara.
The first time she hears about the so-called curse, She's making rice porridge in the palace kitchen for a feverish Zuko. She's fuming mad, muttering curses royal advisors Yi Feng and Hyun Bin are still for pushing for another round of marriage interviews even as their Fire Lord, THE MAN THEY SUPPOSEDLY SERVE, lies cocooned in his bed, barely conscious and near dead from stress and fever.
"-Honestly don't know why they bother." She overhears one of the bakers, a plump, muscular man named Kidlat say to the young dishwasher as he kneads the dough for tomorrow's pork buns.
"Everyone knows the poor thing will probably only last a year or two anyway. If any seat was ever cursed, it's that of the Fire Lady."
"Huh? What are you talking about? What curse?" the young dishwasher says, pausing in his scrubbing of the big copper wok. Kidlat waves a flour covered arm, rolling his eyes up to heaven.
"Kids these days, don't know one lick of history. The CURSE boy! It's only haunted the royal family since the reign of Fire Lord Sozin!"
"I know plenty about history!" The boy yelps, indignantly. "Curses are just legends used to scare naughty children in to behaving. There not real. Not anymore, anyway."
Kidlat snorts, shaking his head condescendingly. "I thought the same thing about dragons, boy and now there's one sleeping on Lord Zuko's pillow. Trust me, the curse is real and it's going to be the reason the royal line dies out."
"Careful Kidlat. Better not let Jun catch you talking like that. He'd think it's tantamount to treason." Lin Su says placidly, casually breaking the joint on a huge hanch of hippo-beef.
Kidlat snorted again, but Katara didn't miss how his eyes darted around for a few seconds, as if expecting the imposing head chef to jump out of the shadows behind the produce crates.
"I'm not saying I don't like the kid. He's got a good heart and Agni knows he's better at the whole ruling thing then his humming-bat brained sister. But you got to admit, not many of the Fire Ladies have lasted too long since Lady Mehalia stabbed herself in the heart."
Lin Su shook her head, lopping of the huge shank of the hippo-beef with one clean whack of her cleaver. "Come on Kidlat. You can't tell me you really believe all that komodo-rhino shit about the sacred dagger and the blood pact do you?"
Kidlat threw his arms wide, as if to encompass the entirety of existence. "The Avatar took away Ozai's bending. The Airbenders are alive. Dragons exist. My brothers saw the spirit of the ocean destroy a whole fleet of Fire Nation dreadnoughts and our Fire Lord defeated his psychotic prodigy of a sister on the day of Sozin's Comet, when she was at her strongest, even if she was a few pig-chickens short of a flock and I'm married to an Earth Kingdom girl whose town I once held hostage. At this point, Lin? You could probably tell me the moon was made of cheese and I wouldn't even blink an eye."
"What dagger? What blood pact?" said the dishwasher, looking as confused as Katara felt. Lin Su waved her hand dismissively.
"Story goes that Fire Lady Mehalia didn't like he husband all that much. Course I don't blame her. She was fifteen married to a man old enough to be her grandfather and there were rumors about Sozin that- Well it doesn't really matter. Point is, she didn't like him and her family had traveled a lot before she became Fire Lady so she had friends all over. In fact, there was a rumor about her and a monk at the Northern Air Temple, kind of a Oma and Shu type of thing, but that's never been confirmed. Anyway, she was apparently in labor when the Comet arrived and Sozin had her and un-born baby Azulon transported to Crescent Island for safe-keeping cause nobody really knew how fast the other nations were going to act once they realised what was going on. Now if you've ever looked at Crescent Island on a map, it's real close to the Earth Kingdom coast. Like, on a clear day you can see the buildings on the harbor close. And Sozin had told a certain section of the Fire Nation Navy to go up and down the coast setting fire to all the port towns to prevent them from rushing to the Air Nomads aid. Apparently the entire coast, for miles on end burned unbroken for a week. SO, Lady Mehalia smells the smoke and sees the fire and freaks out. Rumor has it she tried to tear one of the Fire Sages eyes out, so they decide to lock her in the inner sanctum so she wouldn't hurt newborn Azulon or anybody else. Problem was, they forgot about Agni's obsidian dagger hidden under the floor in front of the altar."
"And!?" The dishwashers eyes were bugging out, clinging to every word that fell from the butchers lips. Katara was too.
"And nothing. They found her the next morning, dead as a doornail with the dagger sticking out of her heart. That's it."
The dishwasher was shocked, and maybe vaguely disappointed. It was at this point that Kidlat scoffed.
"That's not the story and you know it you old cobra. See kid, what happened was- Wait. Do you smell something burning?"
Katara could smell it too. I was very immediate, almost as if…
She looked down at her pot of rice porridge and swore out loud. The sides and bottom of the pot were black with burnt rice grains and the porridge had turned into a viscus puke brown sludge.
Fuming, Katara looked up to see all three of them staring at her with open mouths. Kidlat looked like he was going to be ill.
"Umm… Hi. I'm, uh… sorry about that. That doesn't normally happen." She spoke lamely, feeling her face flush with shame. Not only had she burnt a stupidly simple dish to a crisp and given the poor dishwasher more work to do, but she had been caught eavesdropping as well. What would they think of her? Scratch that, what would GRAN-GRAN think of her?!
"Oh… Uh, don't worry happens all the time." Lin Su was the first to find her voice giving Katara a strained little smile. The dishwasher looked as if he might faint.
"Uhh… you didn't happen to-" Kidlat said before Katara cut him off, way, way to quickly.
"Oh no, absolutely nothing, didn't hear a thing about Lady Mehalia!" She said brightly, while she inwardly slammed her head in to the nearest pillar. Repeatedly.
Kidlat clearly doesn't believe her, but seems to nervous to argue with her.
"Well… Ok… That's good. NOT good like it was something bad or anything or we were disrespecting Fire Lord Zu-!" He says trying to cover his flub, but Lin Su slams an elbow in to his gut causing him to shut up. Her brittle smile is still firmly in place.
"Haruto, help Lady Katara with her…" A moment is given to analyse the mess in the pot.
"...Pot please."
Haruto, the young dishwasher that has been looking like something had ripped his soul from his body, snapped to attention and practically saluted Katara. He was on her fast as and eel-hound on steak.
"Please, Lady Katara, allow me-"
Katara clutched to pot to her chest, partaily out of embarrassment and partially because it went against every bone in her body to let someone else clean up HER mess.
"Thank you, Haruto, you're very kind, but I need to do this myself. I hate having other people do my work for me. If you'd be so kind to give me a bit of soap and a scrub-brush I'll have it back to you by tomorrow morning good as new."
"But… Lady Katara-"
"I'm afraid I must insist Haruto. Besides, I'm from the Southern Watertribe. If I can't even do this for myself people will think I've gone soft!"
"Ok… If you're sure Lady Katara…"
"I am. And it's just Katara, really."
The items are procured quickly, if with a lot of banging around in the back and she is presented with an entire bar of good white soap and a scrub brush that is too pristine to have ever been used before now. She thanks them all profusely and beats a hasty retreat, hearing their voices start up again slowly, now at a much quieter volume.
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"Xiulan, what do you know about Fire Lady Mehalia?" Katara asks after a poe of nothing, flipping through land use regulations and possible blueprints for the new hospital she and Zuko are going to present to the council tomorrow.
The reaction is instantaneous. Xiulan, who had been quietly tidying loose papers and pulling relevant scrolls from the library shelves, squeaked in shock and dropped the scrolls she had been carrying with an audible thump on the thick red carpet.
"I...I'm so sorry Master Katara! I'll clean these up right away!" She gasped, dropping to her knees and hastily trying to gather up the fallen scrolls.
"It's fine Xiulan, no harm done. Here let me help you…" Katara said, dropping to her knees to chase a scroll on public building codes that had rolled under her desk. Xiulan looks like she wants to protest, but after two years of working with Katara the petite Fire Nation woman has learned that there are some things that her lady employer simply will not budge on, so she accepts Katara's help with a profusion of thanks and completely disregards Katara's embarrassed rebuttals of her praise.
"Well now that particular disaster has been avoided." Katara says, carefully placing the stacked scrolls on a clear corner of her workspace.
"Would you mind telling me why everyone acts like I just poured ice down their backs when I ask about Fire Lady Mehalia?"
Xiulan chews her lip nervously, eyes darting around as if scared an assassin is going to jump out from behind the rows of bookshelves.
"I've heard rumors but- That is to say- There's a lot the public doesn't know about how-"
"Xiulan." Katara says gently, placing a comforting hand on the younger woman's shoulder.
"If your not comfortable with telling me that's ok."
Xiulan frowns, hard, before a flash of determination passes across her dark brown eyes and she holds up one perfectly manicured finger.
"Wait just a moment, Master Katara. I'll be back shortly." she says before running; or as close as Fire Nation ladies get to running, deeper in to the depths of the library. She returns fifteen minutes later struggling under the weight of an enormous vellum scroll that must be as long as she is tall.
"The royal family tree!" She huffs placing the monstrous roll of paper on a nearby table, a digs a beautifully embroidered handkerchief out of her sleeve to dab at her sweating brow before becoming all business once more.
"Now, the current dynasty is only about 600 years old, give or take a couple decades," She says, carefully rolling out the crackling vellum and exposing the faded, crabbed brushstrokes of some long dead scribe. "That being said, they can still trace their bloodline back to that of the Dragon King Agni and His Queen, Lady Agneyastra, so this might take a while."
Indeed it does. It becomes clear that the scroll is not one piece of vellum, but several, with new parts being stitched on with thread made of animal sinew whenever the authors began to run out of room and overflow the page. In some sections the writing is so smudged it looks like it was dropped in water, in another section an entire generation of a family tree is crossed out with white ink only to be written back in three sheets later. Several sheets looks as if someone had to pull it out of a fire and most of the fire damaged entries are haphazardly re-stitched with fresh vellum strips or have the names re-written over the charcoal black burn sections with bright silver and gold inks. All told, Katara estimates the whole scroll encompasass roughly 5,000 years worth of births, deaths and marriages, including more than a few instances of insest. Fathers with daughters, Mothers with sons, siblings with each other, which makes Katara supremely grateful that the practice seems to have been banned something like 3,000 years ago. Xiulan rolls it out, eyes scanning the rows of names and dates hawkishly whilst Katara's job is to roll the already examined sections up around the heavy wooden dowel at the top to keep the fragile pages from dropping to the floor in an undignified heap.
Then Xiulan makes a noise of triumph and jams her finger at a crabbed name at the end of a distinctly fresher piece of vellum. "Found her! Let's roll it all up so it can fit on the table shall we?"
They do. Below Mahalia's piece of vellum is stitched a brand-new sheet. Glancing at the latest entry, she spots both Zuko and Azula's names including the dates they were crowned and, in Azula's case, deposed, next to that of Lu Ten. (Born on the 7th day of the 2nd month in the year of the Dog in the Royal Palace, Died in battle at Ba Sing Se on the 22nd day of the 8th month in the year of the Monkey, aged 23.)
Mahalia's entry is starkly simple.
Fire Lady Mahalia; Born on the 12th day of the 5th month in the year of the Sheep. Married Fire Lord Sozin on the 17th day of the 6th month in the year of the Rooster, aged 15. Died in childbirth on the 28th day of the 8th month in the year of the Pig, aged 17.
Katara is now thoroughly confused.
"But if she died in childbirth, why does everyone say-"
"That's the official reason." Xiulan says, giveing a little huff of breath which Katara has learned is the closest thing most Fire Nation nobility ever come to a snort of disgust in polite company.
"The rest is mostly rumors and hearsay and almost no two people has the exact same story about how it happened. If you want more I'd suggest trying the Royal Family's Personal Archives, but you need to either be an enrolled member of the Order of the Fire Sages or have an express invitation from a member of the royal family."
The look in the younger woman's eyes can almost be described as mischievous.
"You wouldn't happen to know how to get your hands on one of those, do you?"
Katara bites the inside of her cheek to keep from giggling like a schoolgirl.
"Oh, I might have some vague idea. Now come on. I'll help you get this huge thing rolled back up so the librarians don't yell at us."
"They have a machine to do that. It runs on water power I believe." Xiulan says, still looking at the imposing bulk of the scroll with some trepidation.
"But I wouldn't say no to an extra pair of hands to help move this enormous thing. What say you Master Katara?"
Katara agrees wholeheartedly.
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In the end, she gets Iroh to write her an invitation. Not that Zuko wouldn't, but he's been running himself ragged preparing for the 3rd annual Conference of Nations to be hosted in the Fire Nation this year, and besides, she feels a little guilty to be digging in to his family's personal life. (But not guilty enough to quench her curiosity.)
Iroh signs the slip of rice paper quite happily, in return for a promise of good tea and friendly conversation when she returns, which she is more than willing to give him. The archivist clearly doesn't like letting her in the darkened sanctum of his domain, but with the invitation clearly penned in Iroh's effusive hand, he has no real reason to deny her. That doesn't stop his sharp black eyes boring in to the back of her head as she takes the special hooded lantern and walks in to the cobwebbed gloom.
It's clear no-one but the archivist has been here in a very long time. A thick cloud of dust arises in a visible poof from the worn-down seating cushion that is the only seating option in the claustrophobic room. Luckily for her, however, the archivist keeps the actual shelves and volumes of scrolls meticulously clean, so much so as not even a speck of dust comes off on the thin white silk gloves the man had insisted she put on before coming in here.
Her first instinct is a bust, Fire Lord Sozin's personal papers contain little mention of his wife or even his young son, mostly being focused on military strategy, colonial planning and, in the aftermath of the comet, an increasingly desperate search for the missing avatar.
The royal stewards records are simalary disinterested in her and the royal physician's notes are clinically dry lines involving her weight, temperature, rapidly failing emotional state, eventual pregnancy and the progression of.
As for Lady Mehalia herself, her personal effects are few and far between. A bundle of yellowed letters corresponding with friends and family from before she was married, including a deeply personal letter to a man named Chanpreet that Katara suspects might be the basis for the airbending monk rumor, a few pieces of signed legislation, her marriage certificate and a scrap of paper apparently torn from the back of a book that has three lines of unintelligible symbols of some kind hastily scratched across the surface.
Secret code perhaps? A note in the archivists cramped handwriting reads, but if it is a code the key to breaking it apparently died with Mehalia herself.
She finally gets a break after an entry in the captain of the guards personal diary leads her back to Crescent Island and a young acolyte by the name of Shin, or rather, his older 'brother' Takahiro. The archivist apparently had complete copies of Takahiro's personal journals, due to him becoming the head of the Order in the years following the comet, and in the 3rd volume she found the whole sorry tale.
11th Day of the 8th Month in the Year of the Pig;
Milked ibex-camels. Pressed 200kgs tofu. Set 7 crocks of sardine-salmon to ferment with caldera-chillies and cabbage. Aired out bedding. Patched Shin's pants.
Grand Master told us that he received a missive from the royal palace today. Apparently Fire Lady Mehalila's pregnancy is not going well and the Fire Lord has 'requested' that when her time comes that she will stay at Crescent Island with her midwives and entourage until after the baby is born, to beseech Agni and Agneyastra for a safe and healthy delivery. Many of the older brothers are not happy about this, stating that women have no place on Crescent Island, but Grand Master reminded them that she is a member of the royal family and thus, it is our duty to serve her and her unborn child to the best of our ability. Shin and the younger acolytes are simply excited to see new people, as our contact with both the main islands and the Earth Kingdom mainland has petered off as of late. I'm choosing to withhold judgement at this point in time.
15th Day of the 8th Month in the Year of the Pig
Turned and washed cheeses. Baked 130 loves of bread with Brother Baek Hyeon. Taught the younger acolytes their letters. Transcribed the minutes of the Sacrist's meeting with the Cellerar. Patched Shin and Chung-Ho's pants.
There have been unsettling rumors flying around about the Fire Ladies upcoming arrival and it has been frightening some of the younger acolytes. Shin came up to me this morning to ask if it was true that Fire Lord Sozin… Well it doesn't really matter. I could probably get hauled to the stocks just for writing it down in my own private journal. I told Shin it was NOT true and warned him against talking like that, as it was tantamount to treason. He was tight lipped about where he heard the rumor, but I suspect some of the younger novices started it to scare the acolytes. I'm still dealing with the repercussions of the giant 'Filth Snake' that apparently lives in the toilets.
20th Day of the 8th Month of the Year of the Pig.
Patched Shin's pants. Seem to be doing that a lot lately. Must remember to ask Brother Kuo about possible leather scraps to use as knee pads. Transcribed the 7 sacred poems. Aired out bedding. Made soap from hippo-cow fat. Ground herbs and made bandages for Infirmian Jiāháo.
A lot of Royal Navy Ironclads have been spotted off the coast as of late. I have had a very good view of it today, as rendering hippo-cow fat tends to smell and Chamberlain Laquan banished us to the beach to do it. Shin noticed as well and asked if they were here to deliver our monthly shipment of food staples early. When I expressed doubt, he then asked if we were going to war. Before I could speak Brother Yàntíng cuffed Shin on the back of the head and said. "Don't you talk like that boy. Only young stupid fools like you want war." I had to comfort a wailing Shin but quietly agreed that no, we were not going to war. But as I watch the signal fires of the ships passing by from my window, I can't help but wonder.
27th Day of the 8th Month in the Year of the Pig.
Cleaned Guest rooms. Milked ibex-camels and made 90kgs fresh cheese. Taught young acolytes basic maths. Assisted Brothers Qiang and Dae-Ho in reorganization of the library. Sewed leather knee-pads on to Shin and several of the other acolytes pants.
If my penmanship suffers in this entry, it will be because I have been forced to write this entry by the light of the gibbous moon instead of by lamplight, as is my custom. Our royal guests have pushed several of us out of our sleeping quarters and Baek Hyeon has threatened to disembowel me with his bench knife if I keep him up and make him miss his 4 am baking session. Seeing as the bench knife is an incredibly dull piece of ceramic I deduce that the disemboweling he might do with it would be slow and agonizing painful so I must go without my customary light source in order to avoid incurring his wrath.
Fire Lady Mehalia is… reserved. I had heard rumor that she was no more than 17 years of age but it is one thing to hear from afar and another entirely to watch her maneuver her petite form around the temple halls encumbered by a massive protruding belly. She makes me think, painfully, of my sister Aarushi. I have not seen her face to face since my father visited the Island five years ago. But where Aarushi is bright and boisterous, Lady Mehalia seems timid and exhausted. Her contractions pain her greatly, and it does not seem that she has eaten or slept enough to sustain both herself and the new prince or princess inside her womb. The stress of the 3 day journey from the Caldera to here has done her no favors either and her gaunt appearance has left several of Infirmian Jiāháo's staff to express doubt that either she or the child will survive the ordeal. The soldiers, three ironclads worth, do us no favors either. They are jumpy and cross and more then once they have appeared to be arguing only to fall silent when a brother or acolyte passes within hearing distance. The entire community appears to walk a razor thin edge and I can only pray to Agni that nothing untoward will happen during their stay.
28th Day of the 8th Month in the Year of the Pig
I have no words. I am in a shock so complete it has rendered me almost unable to function. Have taken to sleeping in a cot outside the acolytes rooms. Have to get up regularly to reassure myself they all are still alive. Many of the younger ones have not stopped crying. I fear they never will.
5th Day of the 9th Month in the Year of the Pig
The events of the past week or so have passed in a blur. The entire temple is in shock. Agni above, the entire WORLD is in shock. Archivist Fu and the Grand Master have suggested journaling as a way to cope and have essentially ordered the entire temple to participate. I have not picked up a pen in days but if it is required of me, I will attempt to relay the events of the past 9 days with as much clarity as I can muster;
I awoke sometime around 4am the morning of the 28th to the haze and smell of smoke.
Hearing the faraway crackling of burning buildings I feared the temple had caught on fire and roused my fellow brothers to fight the impending blaze before running to the acolytes quarters to evacuate them to the relative safety of the beach, as is my prerogative as Assistant Schoolmaster.
I found all the acolytes awake and being herded beachward by Schoolmaster Hyun Shik and several sleep deprived novices and fell in to line behind them, taking a sobbing Myung-Dae from the arms of a panicked Shin.
We were accompanied by what appeared to be the entire temple barnyard, as I often had to shove my way through wild-eyed ibex-camels and grab young acolytes out of the path of panicking ostrich-horses only nominally controlled by Stablemaster Dishi and his staff.
The oppressive smoke made it hard to breathe or see more than about 20 feet ahead of us, but coming over a ridge I could see a great light from the Earth Kingdom coastline so bright I thought two suns had decided to rise in the sky, which only added to my own fear and that of my charges.
We reached the coastline in a coughing, soot-blackened mass, where the novices and I set about cleaning and procuring sea-water soaked cloths for the acolytes while Schoolmaster Hyun Shik ran off to find out what was happening.
When a passing breeze lifted the fog of smoke momentarily, I saw I forest of Royal Navy Ironclads stationed all around the island, though none of them seemed very interested in the sooty crowd of people and livestock crammed on to the volcanic beach of Crescent Island. In fact, several seemed to be actively moving away from us.
The sounds of shouting drew me farther down the beach where I found several of the elders, including Schoolmaster Hyun Shik, arguing with a platoon of Fire Nation Navy about evacuating the island until the blaze died down. The officers replied that Crescent Island was in no immediate danger and to stay put until told otherwise.
This did not go over well, punctuated most strongly by Librarian Kiet gesturing toward the bright light and bellowing "You tell us the ENTIRE Earth Kingdom coast is aflame and we have NOTHING TO FEAR?!"
Which prompted to me to squint in to the flare and smoke to behold the outline of the Earth Kingdom coastline, ablaze punctuated by the dull metallic shine of Royal Ironclads that appeared to disgorge wave after wave of heavily armoured foot soldiers.
Suddenly it became clear where the other Ironclads were heading. We were at war. But with who, and why?
My question went unanswered for it was at that point a hysterical and well dressed woman shoved her way to the front of the pack. "You have to come now!" She shouted at the Naval commander. "It's Lady Mehalia-"
"She's locked herself in the Sanctuary!"
The commander went quite pale, before turning to his second in command and, after extracting a affirmative that the latter would follow their orders no matter what, broke away with 5 of the platoons soldiers, trailed after by the well dressed woman and half of the temple elders. It was at this point Schoolmaster Hyun Shik turned to me and ordered me to follow them. When I expressed a need to stay here and guard the acolytes, he snorted and told me "Why do you think I'm not going myself?! Go boy! Don't make me tell you twice!" before tossing me a wet rag with instructions to use it to cover my nose and mouth. With little other option, I ran to catch the rapidly disappearing crowd of people.
The smoke had pooled in a thick, eye burning mess in the low lying inner courtyard but as I climbed the stairs to the sanctuary the air became clearer and easier to breathe. At one point I glanced out the windows to behold three Royal Ironclads running down a half destroyed Earth Kingdom trading junk that appeared to be trying to flee the burning coast. After that I kept my eyes fixed firmly on the stairs.
I arrived at the top of the landing to chaos. Crying ladies in waiting, shouting brothers and elders and the soldiers and guards trying to hack the giant bronze doors open. I spotted an older woman holding a wailing bundle which I could only assume was the newly born royal heir. There was no sign of Lady Mehalia. How had she even gotten in?
The commander from the beach seemed to be attempting to talk to the bericadded Fire Lady but judging by his increasingly frantic body language he had gotten no response. I honestly do not know how long we stood outside that door. It felt like hours, but it was apparently no more than a few minutes before the Grand Master could be found to give the beach commander the key to unlocking the doors.
It is the blood I remember most. There was a thin trail of it, running in a jagged, stumbling line toward her final resting place. Apparently Mehalia had still been bleeding from giving birth to Prince Azulon a meer 2 hours earlier. It had pooled around her prone body, soaking her white silken shift the color of yew berries. In the dancing light from the burning coast the red stains and the slowly congealing pool of blood seemed to reflect burning faces writhing in agony.
On the wall, carved with the rough edges of the knife that now lay buried in her heart, was a deadly simple phrase.
Death to the Mothers and Daughters of Dragons.
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"I see… And you said you nearly ran out of there?" Iroh said, refilling Katara's speedly emptied cup and passing back over to the wide eyed Master Waterbender.
Katara laughed weakly, gulping down another hot mouthful of Iroh's calming tea.
"Not nearly, Iroh. I'm pretty sure I bolted out of there like a pack of Adlet and all their bone chains where on my tail. I barely remembered to give the Archivist's gloves back!"
Katara suppressed a shudder, gently setting the green glazed teacup back on to the polished ebony surface of the table.
"I'm no stranger to ghost stories. We have plenty back home to tell during the Dark Months, but it's one thing to hear a story of something that happened long ago and another to see a detailed written record of it happening."
Iroh nodded, setting his own teacup down on the table.
"That I can certainly understand. But I must ask my dear… What prompted this line of investigation?" Iroh's calm and sympathetic demeanor was genuine, but deep within the golden eyes a flash of The Dragon of the West could be seen, patient and shrewd as a cat-snake. There was no deception or misdirection capable of surviving in front of that metallic gaze. Katara sighed.
"It all started back when Zuko was still running that fever. When I was cooking some porridge for him I overheard some of the kitchen-staff talking about the upcoming marriage interviews and one of them said that they didn't know why the council bothered because apparently there was a curse on the Fire Ladies position and mentioned Fire Lady Mehalia as the starting point. I got curious, especially because I found out your Family Tree stated that she died in childbirth, but the rumor said that she commited suicide. Uhh, sorry about that." She added, wincing. She wouldn't want to be reminded that any family member, especially your own grandmother, had taken her own life, even if she'd never known her in person.
"It's quite alright Master Katara, though I thank you for compassion." the old general said, the draconic glint vanishing to be replaced by a sort of sad resignation. He smiled gently.
"Remember what I told you about open secrets?"
Katara nodded. The concept had confused her at first. There was no such thing in the Southern Watertribe. Secrets where secrets, either you knew them and other people didn't, or everyone knew about it and it wasn't a secret anymore. The concept of everyone knowing something yet actively pretending that they had no idea what anybody was talking about had come as a bit of a shock to her, especially considering she had first been introduced to the idea in the halls of the repressive Ba Sing Se elite with no prior knowledge of the concept and a war raging outside the city walls. Apparently, it was also common practice among Fire Nation nobility, which had led to an impromptu lesson in etiquette by Iroh within a month of her arrival in the palace, even though both he and Zuko agreed with her that many of the 'Rules' were antiquated and arbitrary, at best.
"I'm guessing Fire Lady Mehalia's death is one of those?" She sighed, reaching up to rub her suddenly aching temples. Iroh nodded.
"That, her life, the inner workings of the Royal Palace under Fire Lord Sozin. And of course, the debated aftermath of the alleged curse. You see, my own mother was assassinated when a mob invaded and burned the Summer Palace to the ground when I was only 5 years old and Ozai's mother, Lady Boonsri, died of yellow fever when he was about 10. That combined with Ursa's disappearance, Azula's madness and my own sweet Ying Yu's death giving birth to my beloved Lu Ten have lent a disturbing amount of credibility to Lady Mehalia's prediction, or curse, as it may be."
He shook his head, as if trying to disperse a cloud of dire thoughts and sighed again.
"In my darkest moments, I too have almost believed it to be true. Quite a few daughters of dragons have fallen before their time and I can certainly see why many young women and their families would be reluctant to send themselves into the tigerdillo's mouth by tying their family line to that of my nephew and I, even without an apparent curse hanging over our heads."
Katara snorted, thinking back on the squabbling nobles, the assassination attempts, the crumbling infrastructure, the arguments over respirations and trade with spiteful dignitaries, the mess of restarting the national economy away from war and colonization and Zuko's seemingly constant attempts to kill himself via overwork.
"Yeah, I can see why."
This prompted a laugh out of Iroh.
"Indeed! If the young lady is hoping for an easy life as a figurehead and mother of the next generation she is going to be severely disappointed. Not that I would wish any partner like that on my nephew." He added, picking up the now lukewarm tea and taking a sip. Katara followed suit.
"Luckily, or perhaps, unluckily, power and prestige are there own motivations. My Nephew will not lack for offers, but I worry about the long term stability of a match based solely upon how much influence the young woman or her family will have upon my Nephew's decision making. Especially given his stubborn streak, which you are quite well acquainted with."
Katara rolled her eyes, but couldn't quite stop the small smile that spread on her face.
"That's an understatement. So what are you hoping for? For Zuko's wife, I mean." Katara said reflexively quashing the niggling feeling in her stomach that seemed to appear everytime Zuko's potential marriage partners were discussed. Iroh looked thoughtful and set his teacup down again.
"That is quite a question… I suppose I would hope for someone smart… compassionate… diplomatic of course but not a doormat… She will have to work closely with my nephew rebuilding our nation back to its pre-war glory and reestablishing connections to the other nations, not to mention the shipload of social, economic and political reforms required for us to move forward in to the new century. She should be independent and self-sufficient, we have no need for a meek figurehead who only follows blindly. Speaking of which, leadership qualities and a certain amount of inborn charm and charisma would help immensely. She would need to be fluid in her thinking to navigate difficult political terrain, but she must also be deeply principled and not afraid to put her foot down and rock the boat should the need arise."
Iroh tapped his index finger against the gleaming surface of the table, collecting his thoughts once more.
"Let's see… Her values would have to align with Zuko's in the important things, but it's also important that she push him to see outside himself and his worldview. And given how frequent attempts on my nephews life are the ability to defend herself confidently would be a weight off all our minds. A impressive pedigree wouldn't hurt either. It would certainly quell complaints from some of the more traditional nobility."
The old man nodded to himself, looking back up at Katara with a happy smile.
"The rest is just what every man hopes for in a daughter-in-law. A sense of humor, a skilled dancer, witty, kind, a good conversationalist, the chance of adorable grandchildren-"
Katara had to laugh at that one. Iroh's smile just grew wider.
"And that she and Zuko would love and care for each other just as much as Ying Yu and I loved each other, however briefly I had her."
Katara stopped laughing at that. Iroh's smile was still in place, still warm as ever, but a sorrow tinged it now, a nuance of deep longing and loneliness that Katara suspected occupied many of his waking hours, dampened and distant, if ever so briefly, from his beloved nephew the land of the living, to the wife and son lost to the land of the dead. Katara reached across the dark expanse of wood and took his soft, warm hand in her own.
"Well we will just have to be the beat matchmakers in the history of the Fire Nation and make that happen."
Iroh burst out laughing, the dampness in the corners of his eyes finally coalescing in to tears of mirth. "While I doubt my nephew would appreciate having to find the best matchmakers in our history just to find a date, I appreciate the sentiment." Iroh chuckled, wiping away the salty tear tracks with the hem of his sleeve.
"And I thank you for listening. I had only gotten halfway through before Lady Hue told me in no uncertain terms that a woman like that does not exist anywhere in the Fire Nation."
Katara huffed. "Well she clearly isn't looking hard enough. And even if it's true, there's an entire WORLD outside these islands. There has got to be at least ten girls who fit that description somewhere out there, minimum. Toph for one, though I doubt either she or Zuko would ever take that idea seriously. She'd laugh herself sick."
Iroh laughed once more. "Doubtful indeed, even if she does seem like an ideal candidate on paper. She could even evade the alleged curse as well, on account of her heritage."
Katara's brow wrinkled. "How? What does her heritage have to do with anything?"
"Your people have told you stories about how the first Waterbenders came to be correct?"
"Of course. The Moon was the first Waterbender and she taught our people how to watch the tide and the waves and flow with the ocean as she did. It's the same as the Sky Bison teaching the Air Nomads and the Dragons teaching the firebenders."
"Precisely! Dragons are integral to our way of life. The Royal line itself traces back to the descendants of the Dragon God King Agni and his human wife and many of our nobility trace themselves back to them as well. In that sense almost all young ladies of noble blood are daughters of Agni or Daughters of the Dragon, if you will, but if you consider the rumored birth of our culture and bending, any woman born under our flag and living according to our way of life could consider themselves the Daughters of Dragons. But Toph, being of Earth Kingdom Nobility, would be exempt from Mehalia's curse simply because-"
"She's Earth Kingdom." Katara breathed, the final piece finally clicking in to place. Iroh beamed, the smile of a proud teacher to a prized student.
"Meaning?"
"She's not a Daughter of Dragons. I don't know what you would call her honestly-"
"Based on the story of Earthbending creation she would be a Daughter of Badger-Moles, but I do admit the title lacks a certain amount of gravitas alongside her myriad of other titles. The Melon Lord in particular is one of my favorites…"
"And Lady Mehalia's curse or prediction or something only specifies death to the Daughters of Dragons, thus automatically exempting any one born in the Earth Kingdom or the Water Tribes. And the Air Nomads I suppose, but I'm pretty sure Zuko would kill Aang before they even got to the engagement ceremony."
"Which would be a rather politically dangerous position, seeing as he is the Avatar." Iroh responded, trying and failing to hide a smile.
"Which leaves Earth Kingdom nobility, of which there is a lot to choose from, and the Northern Water Tribe, many of whom I'm sure would jump at the chance to marry someone who treats them as an equal."
Iroh, nodded, face taking on a deceptively innocent impression.
"The North… But not the South?"
Katara blushed at the insinuation, but plowed on regardless.
"We don't have structured nobility in the South. My father is chief, yes, but a lot of decisions have to be okayed by the tribe and even then the tribal elders have to agree it's the best course of action. Not to mention we're tiny compared to other nations, even our sister tribe. Even with the influx of people from the North and the men returning home from war we still have barely 2,000 people. Besides, most of the eligible women got married when the men came home, and those who didn't marry sweethearts home from the front are engaged to Northern Water Tribe men who came down to the South in search of wives and a chance to better themselves. You'll be hard pressed to find a politically savvy, culturally fluent, unattached Zuko whisperer hiding down there."
Iroh chuckled, the air of innocence melting in to one of nearly unconcealed delight and mischief. "Oh, I highly doubt that we won't be able to find anyone. But I must agree with you. She is certainly not down there anymore."
The many questions Katara wanted to ask where interrupted by Zuko, who strowed in to the tea room with a put-upon expression.
"Uncle, I need your help. The delegation from Hat Yai is here early and I could really use-Katara! I didn't know you were here."
"Hello to you too Nephew." Iroh said jovially, even more used to Zuko's abrupt nature then Katara. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"
"It's definitely not a pleasure, Uncle." Zuko said turning his suddenly flushed face away from Katara and towards his uncle.
"Hat Yai is here early which unfortunately means-"
"Governor Lek is early as well." Iroh sighed smile falling in to an unhappy frown.
Wonderful, Katara thought wrinkling her nose in distaste. Governor Lek was a vain, arrogant and distasteful little man with a fastidiously groomed pencil mustache and views on women's roles in politics that make Katara want to punch his teeth so far down his neck he could bite his own ass.
Unfortunately, he also had a lot of political clout, Hat Yai being a major trading hub and was prone to raising a monumental stink whenever he believed this prestigious position had been slighted. It wouldn't have surprised Katara at all if the vindictive little rat-skink had arrived early so he could barate Zuko for not being a good host, despite the fact his party had not been expected for THREE MORE WEEKS, just for the pleasure of undermining the crown prince.
"I'm assuming we don't have the rooms prepared yet?" Iroh said.
Zuko snorted. "Rooms Uncle? We don't even have the receiving room set up. I had to put them in the Sakura Tearoom!"
Katara winced. "How much mileage is the elbow leech going to get out of that?"
"Zi Hong managed to convince them that it was common procedure for less formal visits, but you know Lek. He probably heard less formal and is winding up a rant about respect as we speak. I could really use some help here."
Katara's mind sprang in to action. "Iroh, I need you to find Chamberlain Wuhan and get him to arrange for… How many people are there Zuko?
Zuko's brow wrinkled as his struggled to remember. "Uhh, there's five nobles not including the governor and three of them brought there personal assistants, separate from their household retinue. About 30 people in total, I guess? I can ask Zi Hong for a more accurate count."
"Okay. Iroh, find Chamberlain Wuhan and get him to arrange the staff to prepare 40 rooms, better safe than sorry, in the East Wing. They recently cleaned there so I will probably only be a matter of getting some fresh linens and airing everything out. Tell him we'll need at least 6 noble suites with attached studies and make sure one of them is the Plum Blossom Suite. That should shut Lek up for a while at least. I'll ask Xiulan to run to the kitchen to tell Jun we have extra mouths for dinner and ask if he can whip up something simple to keep them occupied in the meantime. Zuko, you accompany me to the tearoom. If they think that you were fetching me they'll be less likely to raise a stink about you taking so long to formally greet them. Plus, the longer we can stall them, the better."
Zuko, who had been looking at Katara with something approaching the expression a drowning man gets when he is finally thrown a rope, straightened up and gave a firm nod, eyes becoming as resolute and unbothered as the gold coins they resembled.
"Right. Okay then. We'll take the long way around and pick up Councillors Pravat and Yijun as well. Both of them are heavily involved in overseas trade and neither of them like Lek very much, so we won't be alone in there. Hell, I'm pretty sure Yujin will jump at the chance to put the governor in his place. She's carried a grudge against him ever since the to beautiful to be in politics comment."
"As well she should!" Katara sniffed angrily, standing from her seat to take Zuko's proffered arm.
"I personally would have froze him to the ceiling, the pig!"
"I have no doubt about that." The young Fire Lord proffered dryly, leading her out of Iroh's private dining room and in to the halls beyond.
"For now, however, can we focus on solutions that won't get me ousted in a violent military coup?"
Katara snorted, threading her fingers around his bicep.
"Please. We can take him."
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Iroh watched the young pair's retreating backs as they walked down the hall, still bickering. Shutting behind them the door with a soft click, he began gathering up the tea things in to one sensible pile to be taken to the kitchen for cleaning before ringing the bell which prompted the almost instant materialization of Songkarn, the manservant Zuko had insisted upon after he threw out his back 5 months ago. There wasn't overmuch for him to do, Iroh being retired and quite used to being independent, but Song, as he was called, was a pleasant young man who could play a mean game of Pai Sho and could be counted upon to have his finger on the pulse of local events, a valuable trait in any staff member.
"Song, you wouldn't happen to know where Chamberlain Wuhan is at this moment would you?"
Song's brow scrunched in concentration for the moment. "Last I knew General, He was meeting with the kitchen staff and the butler to ensure we had enough provisions on hand for the Conference. I'm almost positive he's there and if he isn't, he'll be meeting with the senior clerks in his office to draw up the budget."
Iroh nodded. "Excellent. Thank you Song. Please tell Han Qing that I am leaving to meet with the Chamberlain and if she can find her son to tell him to dust off my best teaset to be taken to the antechamber of the Sakura Tearoom with along with some of my favorite jasmine blend. We have had some unexpected visitors. I'll be over there shortly."
"Of course General. Would you like me to accompany you?"
"No thank you Song, I'll manage. See you in a few hours."
Satisfied with his preparations, Iroh walked out to the hall and down in the direction of the palace kitchens at a sedate, measured pace. At his age, dashing about the palace was no longer practical and besides, it wouldn't do to arrive to greet the governor and his party sweaty and out of breath. It would be very undignified, at that little weasel-lizard of a man would no doubt delight of telling everyone he saw that the Royal Palace was in such disrepair the Fire Lord had to send his elderly uncle to run errands for him. Iroh personally believed that people who could not even stoop to speak to those who ran their household had no business being in power, but such was the way of the world. For now, at least.
Thinking about that brought his thoughts back around, as they so often did, to his nephew. Iroh was proud of him, had always been proud of him, but under that pride was a deep seeded anger that the hot tempered, gentle young boy he had know had been forced to grow up so quickly. He hadn't truly been a child since he was ten years old and had been forced to become a man at age 14 as Ozai's fire seared the side of his face and banished him to the mercys of a hostile world with only a rusty ship and a bunch of old men and crusty sailors for company. And now he was Fire Lord. It was his birthright, his duty and his destiny, of that Iroh was in no doubt, but once again Zuko was forced in to a role much to big for any sensible person to expect a 19 year old boy to fill.
When I was his age I was drinking tea in the garden and playing at being a soldier with my friends. When Lu Ten was his age he was writing poetry and falling in love too deeply with every girl he saw. Zuko has nearly died twice, and is expected to run a country, rebuild the world and continue the royal line. I could kill Ozai, if I thought that wouldn't start a damn civil war.
The soft gurgle caught his ear and Iroh turned from his thoughts to view a one of the inner gardens out the open doors. A little rock fountain burbled merrily, the clear water splashing in to a pond that reflected the deep blue of late afternoon sky. Along the edges, blood red peonies bloomed, some of the heavy blooms bending their branches so far the velvety petals almost kissed the surface of the pond, the dark hue of their reflections staining the blue edges a rich dark red. The spicy-sweet scent of them wafted on the passing breeze, mixed with the pleasant scent of running water and wet stone, ruffling the old generals hair.
Iroh smiled. The dark red peonies, symbols of honor and devotion reflected against the sky blue water, peaceful and serene, brought together in the reflection. He almost laughed. You did not get to be as old as he was without recognizing a sign, and this was one if he ever saw it.
With a new spring in his step Iroh continued, thinking back to his nephew and the young master waterbender, arm in arm and playfully bickering as they set prove all doubters wrong. This time Iroh did laugh.
His nephew still had a world to restore and a country to run, of course, but suddenly the problem of a wife and the threat of the curse no longer seemed an issue.
After all, Iroh thought as the smells of the kitchen wafted down the hall toward him.
When his nephew was ready to find his Fire Lady, he wouldn't even have to leave the palace.
All he would have to do was gather up the courage to knock on her door.
I was always fascinated by the events leading up to the Hundred Years War. Ok not always. But ten years and a drivers licence away from when ATLA first hit the air waves have allowed me a lot of time to ruminate and come up with theories as to why certain things are the way they are. Mostly about the Fire Nation and the Water Tribes, which I favor for reasons that seem fairly obvious considering the title of this fic collection. One of the big mysteries to me was where the hell all those Fire Ladies got to. We all know what happened to Azula and it's heavily implied that Iroh's wife died in childbirth, given that Lu Ten is his only child, but the others are still shrouded in mystery. (And no Ursas fate is still unknown the comics are not cannon fight me.)
Sozin must have had a Fire Lady, Azulon didn't just appear, but she is nowhere to be seen and neither is it ever even implied that Azulon has a Fire Lady hiding somewhere in the palace. What happened to them? Where did they go? Why do none of the Fire Lords seem to have a healthy, loving relationship, Old Zuko from Legend of Korra included?
So I created Mehalia, a heartbroken, vengeful sixteen year-old girl, married to a old man she never loved, pregnant with a child she had prayed would never come, who watches from her window as everything she loved goes up in smoke. That is some solid a-pox-on-both-your-houses level curse material if ever there was one. Throw in a sacred dagger and a chilling phrase scraped out with he last strength and you have got one hell of a story, if I do say so myself.
I hope you enjoyed it.
Zoo out, Peace!