Thistle and Weeds
Chapter 20: Day of Reckoning, Part 2
Life was a strange thing. Never had the point been brought home with more force than when Mai watched her husband and the man who would be her husband walking together, toward some sort of destiny. She shivered, not with fear, but with anticipation; she wanted this day over with, behind her, behind everyone. It was as if the Fire Nation, she and Zuko and Taro, were suspended from some fragile thread and below them waters raged and thrashed against perilous rocks. Either they would drop into the abyss or they would climb their way up and over the edge.
It was funny too the peace she felt in this world on hold. Maybe once the action began, Mai would feel differently.
Let's get to it so I can find out.
Zuko craned his head around and gave Mai a glance, making certain she was still with them and safe. He smiled slightly and she gave her own back to him. They all continued at a brisk pace, until Zuko stopped at a little used entrance to the palace proper.
He pushed it open, holding on tight to the handle, trying to prevent any creaking or groaning. There was no one inside, at least there shouldn't be, but the prince would still exercise caution. He stepped through the doorway first. Seeing nothing and hearing nothing he waved the other two in.
"There's a servant's tunnel right through here." He pointed to another door. "It leads straight to the throne room."
It was dark and dank inside, and narrow. Moisture coated the stone walls, and dripped onto the floor, creating little puddles. Mai thought of rats scurrying about, hidden and safe and covered by the blackness. She shuddered a bit and pulled out a blade. Sconces lined the walls but rather than light any, both Zuko and Taro carried a flame in their palms. Zuko beckoned Mai forward and she stepped in between him and Taro, better able to see that way.
"Does anyone use these anymore? I almost feel sorry for the servants who did." Mai brushed her fingers against the stone. "They need some remodeling."
"For carrying urgent messages sometimes, I guess. I don't think too may trays of tea make it through here anymore. If anyone needed to escape for some reason, though, the tunnels are great."
Zuko stopped abruptly at a rough hewn door. It was covered with characters, some carved with a knife and others expertly burned into the wood.
"So, let me guess; Azula spied from here, sometimes coercing you to go with her. Bored on occasion, you carved your names into the door." It would have been almost sweet, the brother and sister moments of togetherness, had Mai not known the true nature of their relationship.
"Yes." He'd hated it in the tunnels but they never bothered Azula. She'd bring him along sometimes, the sheer force of her personality pulling him despite his misgivings. And he acquiesced, not wanting a fight, not wanting her to run to Daddy later and complain about his unwillingness to help out his sister. She would eliminate any mention of watching the goings on in the throne room, of course. With a fluency that staggered Zuko then and staggered him now, Azula would lie to servants, their father, their mother while she was around, and anyone else she needed too. Deception was her language.
And she would watch those goings on with rapt glee, soaking up the words and the posturing, the atmosphere and the fear that the Fire Lord inspired. Zuko watched too, but with furtive glances. A lot of what he heard disturbed him somewhere deep down. And his discomfort created guilt. He should be proud and patriotic, not questioning and doubtful. Azula would catch the look on his face sometimes and shame him.
What's the matter, Zu-zu? Don't have the stomach for leadership? What do you think we do during battles? You're so stupid and naïve.
Taro glanced sideways at Mai. "What's his problem?"
"He's having a moment," she shrugged, before placing a hand on her lover's shoulder. "Time to go in, Zuko."
"I wonder what Azula will do today." A tiny spark of hope survived in his heart. Perhaps she would make a better choice, a good choice.
It wasn't the time for brooding. "She'll do what she wants; you can't worry about that now." Mai gave him a gentle push toward the door.
He put a hand on the wood and shoved it hard. It groaned loud and low and long and the prince cringed. The hinges were rusted from lack of use. Once again, he stared about with exaggerated caution. The throne room was empty. No raging hot flames of orange and red and yellow surrounded the seat of power. The space seemed empty without the fire, empty and strange. Zuko felt a flash of unease.
"We'll wait over there, by that pillar. The Avatar and his friends should be here soon." After all the planning and waiting and worrying, the battle would be over within the hour. And no matter the result, that, at least, would be a relief.
So they huddled near the pillar, Mai slouching against it, her hands in her sleeves, eyes alert for any movement, ears straining for any sound. All she could hear was the quiet breathing of Zuko and Taro and the thumping of her own heart. The silence seemed alive and prescient, coiling itself about them like a viper. Mai felt jumpy and she could see well enough that the men did too.
"Do you feel different now?" She referred to their internal fires. Soon they would be feeble and useless. She was not a bender and could never understand completely what being one was like, but Mai imagined not being able to throw her blades, her fingers broken perhaps or a wrist. She would feel incomplete, some essential part of her gone for a time.
Taro turned to the prince. Zuko nodded and the two of them felt for the source of flame that lived in all firebenders. Each produced a spark in his hand that then became a tiny flame, but they flickered and wavered, grieving for the vanishing sun.
"Not long now." Zuko met Mai's eyes. With one glance, he did his best to show her his love and admiration and his respect for her. He tried to convey his desperate need for her to survive this upcoming trial. If she did not, his life would no longer have meaning.
With a slight inclination of her head and a quirk of her lips, Mai relayed her understanding.
"Do you hear that?" She whirled about, taking in all parts of the throne room.
"I hear." Zuko unsheathed his sword, separated it and stood, one half in each hand, ready to fight, to the death if need be.
"What kind of welcome is that?" Toph, the blind girl, stepped closer, away from an opening in the floor. Sokka and Katara followed. "You asked for our help, remember?" Hands on hips, the young girl grinned at them before closing the hole. Zuko couldn't tell that the floor had ever been disturbed.
Aang appeared next, stepping through the curtains that Zuko had walked by all his life, always curious and a little bit afraid. The Avatar held his glider upright and stared at them all with determined grey orbs.
"Well, well, the gang's all here." Six pairs of eyes turned to Mai then. She shrugged. "What? We need to call ourselves something, don't we?"
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Taro introduced himself to everyone in a shuffling sort of awkward way. "I'm Taro, Mai's, um, well, I guess that on paper I'm her…"
"Just spit it out." Toph had no patience for waffling. She was a straightforward girl and always appreciated that quality in others. "You're her husband. But Mai loves Zuko and Zuko loves Mai. Any idiot can see that."
"You and Mai should get along well; no delicacy, either of you." Taro's tone was dry as his parched throat. He took a swig from his water skin. Both girls were perceptive too, though he neglected to mention that.
With appraising blue eyes, Katara drank everyone in. Always, one finger was near her water skin, ready to pop open the lid and draw her element out. "We should get going now. If Aang's going to defeat the Fire Lord, he has to get down into this bunker during the eclipse. So…" She tapped one foot on the floor.
"What my sister means is, Zuko, it's time to show us to the secret underground lair of the Fire Nation royals." Sokka rubbed his hands in enthusiastic anticipation. "This is going to be so cool. I love secret lairs."
Mai pressed her lips tightly together until they made a thin line. There was so much she could say, so many sarcastic remarks. But now was not the time. So she allowed herself a liberal eye roll before putting a hand on Zuko's arm. She whispered softly. "Time to go."
Zuko led the way, taking a look over his shoulder ever few seconds as if to make certain that Mai was still there. Throughout the entire palace there were only two entrances to the underground tunnels. More would mean a greater chance of discovery. In an obscure library, behind a desk, a door, looking every bit like the wall it had been cut into, led below.
Less cautious now, since the fight for his nation's future was imminent, Zuko flung back the elegantly carved slab of wood and headed down the stone steps. Wall sconces lit the way and heat from the volcano's core drifted up to greet the group. Sokka complained loudly, and wiped at his forehead.
"Well, when you're raised in the South Pole, this heat makes you feel like someone stuffed you inside a big pot full of water and lit a fire underneath." He began to think of anything that might be cooked in a pot; stews and soups, all with liberal amounts of meat. Then his mouth began to water and his stomach rumbled, both reacting to the images in his mind. "What?" he asked in response to his sister's nudge. "It's been ages since breakfast."
Katara was tempted to soak her brother, wake him up to reality, but water and steps didn't mix well. Besides, he always came through when it counted, despite his seeming silliness. Beneath the goofy façade were a courageous and fierce heart and a fine mind.
"Ozai's bunker is this way." Zuko darted left at the bottom of the staircase. He raised his hand then and put a finger to his lips. Both footsteps and laughter echoed down the hallway towards them. Laughter seemed inappropriate somehow and the prince frowned. If the men, it sounded like all men, came towards the group, they would have to incapacitate them. But the sounds grew fainter instead and Zuko released the breath he had been holding."Okay, let's go."
He wondered if and when Azula might make an appearance. His sister could cause problems, but she was a firebender and would be just as reliant on other methods of fighting as he and Taro and Ozai. It was her skill at manipulation that worried him more, her ability to wriggle her way into minds, use worries and insecurities against people. She'd never had a decent relationship with anyone in her entire life, but she could make people squirm and dance, a brilliant maestro in full command of her instruments.
"How far is it? Has the eclipse started yet?" Aang was nervous. He tugged at the orange and yellow cloth that was draped about his upper body, his declaration of Air Nomad status, something he wore with pride, especially here, beneath the Fire Nation palace. This encounter with Ozai, he'd been working up to it for a long time now. Thoughts of it had invaded his dreams, bad thoughts, bolstered by an army of reservations and a lack of confidence that exploded like fire bombs in his head. He wasn't ready, was he? Would he ever be ready, though? Could there be a better time to defeat the madman who ran the Fire Nation and wanted to run the world? No, today was the day and the moment approached with alarming swiftness and the young Avatar could not let everybody down. Besides he had help, lots of it. He took a moment to gaze at Katara. She was beautiful and strong and good and he loved her. With her presence he would do better. She was part of the world that needed saving, after all. What bigger incentive could he need? The crystal catacombs of Ba Sing Se and what happened there was something he accepted now, something terrible that he was reminded of whenever he saw the mark on his back or the mark on his foot, the entry and exit points of Azula's lightning. Aang shuddered as he recalled the princess and the cunning with which she fought, the delight she took in causing pain. His scars ached and for a moment he was back amongst those delicate green crystals, their sparkling beauty an unlikely backdrop for the violence of the battle. That devastation would not be repeated. He would win this time, he and his friends.
"Any minute now." Zuko almost growled his response. In place of the roaring flames that usually resided inside, only an ember glowed dull and faint. And that ember was about to die out completely. It was an awful feeling, like some part of him had been sawed off, leaving nothing but a bloody, useless stump. "It's around the next corner. There will be guards, a minimum of two outside the Fire Lord's bunker and more inside. Their fighting skills are no match for ours."
Toph cracked her knuckles and smirked. "Let me take care of those guys." She began to tap her bare, dirty feet then, impatient for action. She was an earthbending prodigy, gifted with more raw talent than it seemed right or possible for one human being to have. And she was cocky too, sure of herself and her abilities and always eager to show them off.
"Wait." Katara put a hand on Toph's arm. "Let's go over this once again." She swallowed hard and looked at each of them in turn. "We take down the guards and make our way into the bunker. Ozai will be without his bending, and we should have no trouble defeating and capturing him. Aang and Zuko go outside together, and declare the war over, Ozai imprisoned and Zuko the new Fire Lord."
"Yeah, yeah, exactly; but we've got company to defeat first." Toph pointed down another corridor. "Someone's coming and I'm pretty sure that her name is Azula."
Everyone assumed fighting stances without thinking. Seven heads swiveled to face the princess.
"What a smart little earthbender." Toph thought for a moment that Azula was going to pat her on the head. "But you don't need to worry about me. I don't plan on fighting. I plan on watching and gloating today."
Zuko snorted and shook his blades at the young woman. "Why should we believe you?" But despite her ability to lie, somehow, Zuko knew that for once, his sister was being completely honest. He took a step forward and peered into intelligent whisky coloured eyes. "You mean it, don't you? You're not going to interfere? You'll let us take down Father? You won't resist my ascendance to the throne? You won't stir up some other kind of trouble?"
"Trust me, brother; my decision has nothing to do with you or your cute little friends, or Mai," Azula gave the ebony haired girl a strange look, "or Mai's unfortunate marriage. None of this," she waved her arms about and for a moment seemed almost regretful, a flash of grief making those eyes seem human for once, "matters to me. Everything has changed." She'd given away too much.
"Father's hurt you too. I can see it. You could join us, Azula, fight for the right side." Zuko could hardly believe he was making the offer.
Katara could not believe it either. "What are you doing? I won't fight with her. You can't possibly believe what she's saying? She's, she's Azula. She killed Aang." Blue eyes were colder than any arctic sea and even the princess flinched at the ferocity of the waterbender's fury.
The rest of the group muttered similar sentiments while Aang looked thoughtful. It was Mai, ever practical, who reminded them that time was ticking by. "Last time I checked, we didn't have all day."
"That's probably what she wanted, to distract us until the eclipse is over." Sokka was fuming now. He edged toward the princess, sword unsheathed.
"Sokka, you're wasting more time; let's go." Toph moved the earth beneath his feet, making him stumble. It got his attention, though.
"Sokka? That sounds familiar. One of my prisoners, a Kyoshi Warrior mentioned you; well I assume it was you. Are there any more Sokkas running around?"
Sokka had the point of his sword pressed against Azula's throat. She never even flinched."Suki! Did you hurt her? If you hurt her, I'll kill you."
"Relax; she's fine and so are her friends. She's at the Boiling Rock Prison now. When Zuko's Fire Lord, he'll get her out. Oh, and the others are with Iroh, in Capitol City Prison." Azula sauntered off, heading toward her father's bunker. "Aren't you coming?"
Mouths hung open but they followed. What choice did any of them have now?
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Iroh appeared downtrodden and weak, and old man, not capable of much, and nothing without his firebending. But beneath his prison uniform, a ragged brown robe filled with holes and covered with stains, his well-defined and powerfully strong muscles flexed and twitched, eager for some real action.
Like Zuko and Taro, he felt his internal fire diminish as the minutes trundled by. And he fought back a smirk when Warden Poon made his rounds, making jibes and knocking over food bowls, an adult version of some schoolyard bully. Poon would get his. And Iroh would soon be free, lost in the chaos outside and Order member ready to take him away to Piandao's estate.
His thoughts turned to Zuko and Mai and Azula too, along with the Avatar and his friends. Plans were rarely foolproof. People were variable and conditions could never be predicted exactly. Each member of the team needed to be flexible, able to adjust to different situations should they arise. Iroh worried but he was confident too. It was past time for the Fire Nation to change. A better opportunity to dethrone Ozai and begin anew, build a Fire Nation that was peaceful, productive and open-minded rather than warmongering and cruel and repressive, could not be had. All the ingenuity of its people could be put into work that would benefit others, rather than into making bigger and more efficient war machines. Nothing would be easy for Zuko, but the struggles would be worth everything in the end.
Iroh smiled at the image of his nephew as Fire Lord. Since his days as a boy, Zuko wanted the crown, not for power or glory or domination but simply because he loved his nation and wanted to serve it. He'd had an innocence then and purity, a desire to do good. Ozai never nurtured that; he tried to kill it instead.
Bitterness overrode pretty much every other emotion during the early part of his banishment. Zuko grew hard and cold, on the exterior at least. He pushed everyone away, obsessed over finding and then catching the Avatar, savored his isolation and the coldness of his world like he might the sweetest of fruits. There were times that even Iroh thought his nephew lost for good. But his faith in the boy and then the young man was powerful, and in the end, had been rewarded.
"Good luck, nephew," he whispered.
As he felt the last of his inner flame fade, and saw the sky begin to darken through the small slit of a window, Iroh shrugged off his outer robe, summoned all his concentration, grabbed two bars of his cell, grunted and pulled. When they moved he cried out in triumph, hoping the guards would hear.
"Come on you bastards; come and get me!"
The bars moved further and further apart, wide enough for Iroh to step through to freedom. As he charged down the hallway, the guards ran to meet him.
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A/N: Well, at my current rate, I should be finished in about a year or never. It felt weird writing this chapter, very weird.