A/N: Once again, the updates on this story were crazier than Gary Busey. I apologize again! But hey, plot resolution is on the way! Read and review, and thanks for sticking with me.
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Pacifist
It is so strange that he still finds her body lovely. The pale skin on a slender frame and dark hair over wine-colored lips may always attract the Zuko to his wife, and Mai is noble and holds herself justly before the public eye, leaving no one to wonder about the relationship of the Fire Lord and Lady.
But it is the way that she no longer clings to him, or the way he no longer kisses her goodnight, it is the mutual drifting apart that neither care to stop that pains him. Zuko finds it harder to smile at her lilting voice, and she no longer works so hard to please him. He lets her slip away just as easily as crumbling leaves because fighting for love is not something he wants to do for her. He has been fighting too hard to ignore it for someone else.
Her nightgown is thin like the wavering line that still unites them as she combs out her hair in the starlight. Mai says, "How are you, Zuko?"
Her words shock him from his wandering thoughts. "I'm afraid I'm always preoccupied." She sets down her shell comb and watches his tired face.
"Perhaps you should go visit Aang. He always calms you down," she rasps. He expects that there should be some hint of malice in her voice, but he detects none.
Zuko sighs, "It's late. He's probably asleep already."
"We both know that you wouldn't bother him," she solemnly affirms. "He loves you."
The Fire Lord stops, lowering his head as he turns his scarred face to look at his wife. Her words confuse him; he does not know what kind of love she believes he is capable of displaying to Aang. She maintains the sincere, unfamiliar look, staring with candor back at him.
Mai speaks in her political tone, mannerisms all sharp and businesslike, "I have always loved you, Zuko, but I'm afraid of what we've become. I don't want to be trapped, but that's how I feel with this- this us. Am I alone in this sentiment?" Her words are whispered, but firm. There is a loaded silence between them as the breeze blows the red curtains in the window.
"Mai, don't talk to me like I'm a Senator. I'm your husband," he says. Zuko thinks that if she confirms it, it must be true enough for both of them to believe.
Her hands clasp together as if she's trying desperately to hold on to a little reflection between her fingers. "I don't know how else to ask you," she apologizes. He notices the shadows beneath her eyes, and the tiny wrinkle that forms under stress at the corner of her mouth, adding years to her appearance.
Zuko has never seen her looking so uncomfortable, so out of her element. She opens her mouth, then closes it and lightly shakes her head. When she finally speaks, her eyes bore a hole into the ground, "I don't think I love you like I used to."
Her words are weakly spoken, and she glances up to gauge his reaction. It is fairly obvious that she does not want to cause him pain when she wraps her arms together in guilty hug, supporting herself with the last of her inner strength.
She is being so sweet to him, looking something like another girl form his past that he cannot identify, and Zuko feels that he owes her an honest answer. He kneels down at her bare feet and takes her hand, "I love you as any man can love a woman, but I'm afraid that it may not be enough. There are things- people that I can't stop thinking about, and I'm afraid it will consume me, Mai. I'm afraid it might kill me to keep fighting it."
She presses their hands together and smiles in her thin way. After several deep breaths she says, "Let's give up together then. Let's stop fighting and pretend that we can have what we really want." Her eyes are suddenly dripping with tears, and Zuko pulls back when she gasps, "I was unfaithful to you."
In a moment his heart is torn apart, both reassured and upset by her confession. Of course he had heard rumors, and he had been able to guess with whom Mai spent all her time without needing Sokka and Suki to guide him to the conclusion. It stings though, to hear it from his wife. It stings his Fire Nation pride to know that he was not enough to keep her. His quiet, somewhat scratchy voice asks her, "Have you found someone that makes you happy?"
"Yes." Is her strangled reply. She bites down hard on her lips, hazardously close to breaking the skin, as she asks, "Do you hate me?"
"Oh," he shakes his head. "Not ever, Mai."
Something about the way his life is falling apart brings him new hope. He can begin anew, just as he disobeyed his malicious father all those years ago. Zuko kisses her once on the forehead, knowing it may be the last time he does so, to absolve her with the act. She closes her eyes slowly and heaves a sigh that breaks his heart. Mai the stone-faced assassin, the biting Parliamentarian without a soul, leans into his kiss as if his lips could push her sin behind her.
"May we tell Uncle tomorrow? I'll need to know how to go about informing the public of our separation."
"Zuko," she grabs his hand. "I never meant to slander your name. Please, blame me for what's happened. Let them defame me for what I've done. I'll quit the courts if you want me to."
He smiles, "Always so black and white with you, Mai. No, this can be handled civilly. We're not the first royal pair to split, and at least there were no murders involved with us."
She sniffles out a small laugh before she looks up at him for a long moment.
"Go tell Aang," she whispers.
At first, Zuko makes no reply. He scowls deeply, questioningly, and folds his arms. Mai points to the exit. "You and I both know you need to tell him," she says. This time her face leaves no room for argument.
Obeying, he closes the door of their royal suite with a click and glides down the hallway. A stifled sob comes from the room he left behind, but he knows that Mai does not need his presence right now. She needs the person that slips in through the door that Zuko just closed; he catches a long brown braid round the corner just before the lock ticks shut again. And he understands that she has always needed someone with a happier outlook than Zuko could provide. He knows from where her sweetness stems.
The Avatar's room lies in the east wing of the palace, an area that Zuko had become familiar with over the last few years. It is a hallway full of open windows and murals on the walls, perhaps the most attractive part of the royal grounds. It is even near a courtyard that had been converted to a stable for Appa's home. Zuko picked Aang's room himself in the hopes that his friend would feel comfortable.
The night air brings him a great deal of peace.
He pulls his red robes from his shoulders, striding bare-chested in the halls, hoping that none of his guards catch him standing next to the Avatar's room in nothing but his night clothes. His long hair tickles his neck when he brings up his hand to knock, but before he can rap on the wood, he is suddenly staring at a blue arrow above gray eyes.
"Zuko, is everything all right?"
Zuko smiles fully for the first time in months, and it feels like he hasn't used his face muscles in ages. "Everything's fine."
Aang does not return his smile, it seems that he cannot twist his lips into a grin. After a moment of silence he suddenly says, "I think my life is going to hell, Zuko." His fingers roughly rub the back of his neck and he looks up at the Fire Lord with a grieving expression, "Katara doesn't want to marry me."
"Aang, she's-"
"I don't want to marry her either."
Zuko freezes, not knowing where to begin. Even now, after years of council and advice from the wisest men on the planet, Zuko cannot say the simple words that would fill the whole in the boy's heart. And standing together in the dark, he admits to himself that he loves Aang with all the passion he never knew he contained.
"We aren't in-- we aren't together anymore," the Airbender whispers, obviously trying to overcome the lump in his throat. The tortured words leave the Fire Lord wanting to destroy everything that has ever caused Aang pain. He would burn down his palace for the young man before him.
Zuko decides to lose his war.
He grabs Aang's face, presses them together like he has no fear, and feels the completion of all his missing pieces. His hands slide down the arrows of his shoulders, warming the skin like a flame. After several long moments Zuko pauses for breath, and realizes how hard he is gripping Aang's arms. Gray eyes are open wide in shock, and Zuko isn't sure of what he should say next.
Aang solves this problem. "W-will you come in for a while?" He is blushing and suddenly looking much younger, like the child that once asked to be Zuko's friend.
"Of course," says the scarred ruler. He smiles again, wearing out his tired muscles, and follows him into the room. Zuko thinks he will have to train his face to become more used to this position.
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