Chapter 7: Explosions Make Everything Better
"I'm going out today."
Meilin Beifong paused, gauging the reactions of her parents. From her father, she expected anything from furious yelling to stone-cold silence; his mood varied depending on the day. From her mother… well, at this point, she was pretty sure how Mother was going to react, and it never failed to throw Meilin off track, no matter how much she expected it.
"Where?" Mother asked, pausing with a bean curd halfway to her mouth.
Meilin shrugged, an act that would have been a scandalous breach of etiquette not too long ago. "Out," she repeated.
Mother nodded. "Stay safe," she said, taking a bite of the bean curd.
Across the table, Father was taking the silent approach, shooting Meilin a single bitter look before returning to the breakfast spread in front of him.
"I probably won't be back until the evening," Meilin continued after a moment. "I might not be home until after dark."
"I'll make sure the outside lamps are lit, then," Mother said, finishing her bite.
Meilin nodded, rising from the table and heading out of the room. She made her way to her bedroom, where she changed into a set of tougher, plainer robes and pulled her hair back into a tight bun. Ready, she headed out for the nearest outside door.
"Meilin!"
She stopped and turned as Mother hurried towards her. "While you're out, will you take this to the message center?" she asked, pressing a sealed letter into Meilin's hands.
"Of course, Mother," Meilin said, stowing the letter in her robes.
"Thanks, love," Mother said. "Watch out for ashmakers." She turned back into the main house, leaving Meilin staring after her for a moment.
Mother hadn't behaved at all like Meilin had expected in the last week, in fact. After Toph, Zhi, and Jiao left, Meilin expected her mother to melt into a puddle of worry and disapproval. Instead, she became strangely carefree, and at the same time, busier and more intense than she'd ever been before. She laughed, and walked through the gardens barefoot, and let Meilin do whatever she wanted. She sent off letter after letter, addressed to people Meilin had never heard of before. She spent hours poring over cramped texts. She dug around in the basement storage and found a lacquered wood box chock full of dangerous-looking knives, then hid them so thoroughly that Meilin couldn't find a single one. She had spent most of the afternoon, day before yesterday, staring at a half-completed Pai Sho game out in the west courtyard, murmuring under her breath.
Father, on the other hand, was still furious over the blatant and complete disobedience and defiance of all of his offspring. Meilin was the only one still at home, and she wasn't going to hide her 'forbidden' activities – like her work for the Underground – anymore. It was a hard blow for her father. He'd become a recluse, only coming out of his study for meals or sleep, and sometimes not even then. She could understand a little, though. He'd gone from having a well-ordered and obedient family to having three of his children gone, and the fourth no longer recognizing his authority. His life had flipped upside down, and he'd thrown himself into his work in response.
Meilin was sure that part of it was worry, too. He may have been angry with Zhi, Toph, and Jiao, but he still cared about them, and he'd always been overprotective. It had to be hard for him, knowing the danger they could be in and not being able to do anything about it. Spirits, it was hard for her.
She sighed and shook her head, continuing down the road to downtown Gaoling. It was a beautiful, happy town, full of bustle and noise, merchants and hawkers, visitors and locals. Or it usually was, anyway. Now there was a tenser air to the town. The noise was subdued. People gathered to talk on street corners in low voices, and glanced around at the passerby. The Fire Nation was moving south, and Gaoling was directly in the path of their forces.
Meilin headed down the main street of town, feeling the tension around her. It was unsettling to see the place like this. Then again, it was unsettling to know that the might of the Fire Nation was a week away, and approaching.
Her eye was caught by an approaching group of people; a few servants, two guards, and a noblewoman in the middle that she recognized quickly as Esi Ni Quan. The airheaded beauty was wearing a horrible green and black set of robes that looked like she was being attacked by a giant rotting cabbage. Fashion these days, honestly.
As the group came nearer, Meilin debated whether or not to acknowledge Esi or not. The decision was taken out of her hands when Esi recognized her, and waved primly. "Meilin!" she said. "Is that you?"
"Good morning, Esi," Meilin said politely. Wonderful, now she'd been roped into a conversation.
"It is indeed!" Esi said airily. "I'm just on my way to find a new set of shoes to… word and deed, Meilin, what are you wearing?" She had apparently just noticed Meilin's simple robes.
"Clothes," Meilin said.
Esi looked faintly horrified. "Those… things… aren't suitable for someone of your station, Meilin," she said. "Surely you have clothing more befitting a lady of gentle birth?"
"What, like that awful thing?" Meilin asked, indicating Esi's dress. She hadn't meant to say it, truly she hadn't. But apparently she was already forgetting her noble training, because the words popped out before she could stop them.
Esi's mouth dropped open into a perfect O for a moment, before her face drew into a scowl that for once wasn't anything like faint. "Good day," she snapped, and snitted off to find some shoes.
Meilin felt bad about it for a moment, but now she didn't have to talk to Esi Ni Quan anymore, so that was nice. She found herself whistling tunelessly as she turned off the main street and down a narrow side street, then a crooked alley, until she reached the deceptively small-looking building that was her destination. Dingy, run-down, with a crooked sign over the door that said nothing legible. Scrawls of rude graffiti defaced the surface of the stone structure.
She walked up to the door and knocked seven times without pause, then waited. A long few moments passed before she heard the sound of a bolt being drawn back, and the door opened, revealing a potbellied, aging man with a squashed face and a thick leather apron. A pair of large crystal-lensed goggles sat on his forehead.
"Whaddya want?" he rumbled.
"Safety," Meilin said, "and family. But mostly the incendiaries you were working on for me."
The man grunted and turned, leaving the door open and heaving himself into a dimly lit room. "Throw da bolt when ya come in," he tossed over his shoulder.
Meilin let herself into the room and closed the door, sliding the thick bolt home. The door, despite its rickety appearance, was solidly built and rather heavy. With the door closed, the room darkened further. It was hung with cobwebs and liberal dust. Some broken boards and other debris were piled in a corner, and the air carried the smell of mold and neglect
The man made his way to a similar door on the other side of the room, and opened it. Light flooded out, from a brightly lit, white-walled chamber on the other side. Unlike its shabby counterpart, this room was clean and cared for. Plentiful sconces, burning some strange chemical, threw off an impressive amount of light considering there were no windows to provide additional illumination.
The room was packed with tables and benches, and every surface was covered with strange apparatuses, tubing, containers, flasks, sacks, basins, or strange metal instruments. A space was cleared on one of the large middle tables, and there was a copper alembic hissing and bubbling there. The air was laden with strange smells, not really repulsive, but unusual enough to be unpleasant.
A slender woman with silver threading her brilliantly orange-toned hair – obviously from the Southwest Isles, no one besides Kyoshials and their get had hair that color – was hunched over something on the other side of the room. She straightened and turned as Meilin and the man entered, revealing the thick leather apron of her own, and the crystal flasks in her hands, filled with a pale blue liquid.
"Meilin, good day," she said, her voice almost comically high-pitched. "I would come greet you in a more welcoming fashion, but I cannot leave my work here." She nodded apologetically at the bench in front of her.
"Don't worry about it, Lana," Meilin said. "Dusin can get me what I need."
Lana nodded and turned back to her tinkering. Dusin glanced fondly after his wife, then turned back to Meilin. "I'm afraid I don't got as much as y' were looking fer," he grunted. "Brimstone supplies are coming rare. M' biggest supplier was up in Dai Gilang," he added grimly, and Meilin nodded in understanding. Dai Gilang was a town some ways northwest of Gaoling, famed for their skillful metalwork and giant refineries that rivaled the Fire Nation's.
As she'd heard it, the Fire Army reached Dai Gilang six days ago, and the town decided to resist. It had been brutally dealt with, an example to the whole South. Survivors were few and far between, the town itself burned to the ground.
Dusin shook his head, as if tossing the thoughts away, and turned to the bubbling alembic, carefully adjusting a few hollow rods connecting two flasks together. "Anyways, I still got a few places to find it. It's not so rare as I can't get any. And fer what yer doing…" he shrugged eloquently. "I'm willin' to get y' everything I find."
"Thank you," Meilin said. "This will help us strike against the Fire Nation indeed."
Dusin's face darkened further. "Dat supplier was a good friend," he said quietly. "Do some good wi' dis, girl."
"Don't worry." Meilin smiled sharply. "I plan on a lot of havoc."
As if her words summoned up some malicious spirit of chaos, there was almost immediately a loud crash from the other side of the room, and a plume of nasty-smelling, hazy green smoke billowed up, followed by loud and high-pitched cursing. Lana emerged from the smoke with a foul expression behind her goggles. "It wasn't nearly as pure as Merchant Noya swore it was, that cheap, double-crossing charlatan!" she snapped.. "Spirits curse him thrice, blasted pig-worm spawn! May his chi deplete, his skin shrivel, and unsightly pox scar his lying face!"
"Was dat d'acid of spawnwater?" Dusin asked, leaning back and scowling when she nodded. "Curse 'im trice indeed. We don't got any more of dat on hand. Can y' try a less volatile acid?"
Lana disappeared back into the smoke, trailing a stream of colorful phrases behind her that called into question said Noya's sanity, parentage, and chances of surviving his next encounter with her. Dusin shook his head after her. "It's getting harder, finding da good stuff," he said. "Da Fire Nation is makin' it harder ta get supplies for much anything, now." He groaned and pushed off of the table he had been leaning against. "Stay here. I'll bring y' de incendiaries."
Meilin watched him shuffle off through the crowded room, navigating around tables and piles of books and equipment, to finally disappear through another door that led to an underground storeroom.
Her attention was drawn back to the other occupant of the room as there was a smaller crash and the sound of shattering glass, accompanied by an explosion of cursing that would have done a sailor proud. Meilin smiled slightly. Lana was a sweet woman, but she was a Kyoshial, after all, and she had a feisty streak a mile wide. She would have made a good Kyoshi Warrior if she hadn't found her calling in science and alchemy.
Now muttering darkly under her breath, Lana reappeared, waving smoke away from her face. The greenish cloud seemed to be staying more or less in the same spot instead of dispersing throughout the room, which was very peculiar, but Meilin was grateful that the whole room wasn't filled with that stink.
She would have offered to help the older woman clean up, but Meilin knew from experience that she would be rejected. She didn't know what the chemicals were or how to handle them, and Lana preferred to clean up her own messes, anyway. So she watched in silence as Lana ducked in and out of the smoke, bringing rags and flasks, depositing a tangled mess of tubing carelessly on a workbench, hauling in a large basin of a slightly pink-tinted liquid, sweeping up broken glass and tossing it noisily into a metal container of similar waste materials. She opened yet another door, this one painted green and adorned with numerous notes and other small scraps of paper, and used a large paper fan to blow as much of the smoke out as she could. Finally done, more or less, she slammed the door and moved back to the workbench.
Dusin still hadn't emerged from the storeroom. Bored, Meilin wandered over to some of his alchemical texts and pulled one off at random, opening it up to a complicated diagram of some metal apparatus with a lot of tubing and wires. Labels and arrows were splashed across it seemingly at random. She idly turned the page and found a smaller diagram, surrounded by dense blocks of text. Remove the sealing ring before beginning the first step of distillation; those aqueous acids that will fill the second reservoir will quickly deteriorate the ring and jeopardize the integrity of the seal as a whole… Yep, this was worse than standing around doing nothing. She closed the yellowing text and replaced it on the shelf, choosing instead a scroll made from the distinct hide that the Water Tribes used in place of parchment. It was a treaty on the methods of extracting natural gases from various locations, including underwater. While slightly less dry, it was nonetheless insufficient to ward off Meilin's boredom. She replaced it, and leaned against the wall to wait.
It was several more minutes before Dusin reappeared, carrying a large wooden crate with less effort than one might have expected, looking at his physique. "Here ya be," he said, setting it down gently. "They be packed in straw, to protect them. Knockin' together shouldn't set 'em off, but ya never know. Handle 'em careful. Any fire ought to set 'em right off, see."
"Perfect," Meilin said, pulling out an embroidered coin purse and laying it in his hands. "That ought to cover the cost."
He tucked the pouch away without inspecting the contents. "Be safe, lil asaweni," he said gruffly.
Meilin smiled. Little poison dart hummingbird, indeed. Pretty, and deadly. "I can't promise safety," she said, hefting the crate. "But what I can promise is retribution."
;=;=;=;=;
Sarina bint Leilah straightened from the small prototype explosive, backing off and flicking the end of her headwrap back over her shoulder. Although the traditional wraps of the Si Wongi people weren't necessary here in the much gentler climate of Gaoling, she still wore an abbreviated form of the flowing cloths. They helped conceal her face should she desire such a function, and she felt rather naked without them. "It should be ready," she said over her shoulder. "Are we?"
"Nearly," the other girl said, still bent over a wooden, straw-packed crate. "But we should move these first, in case the blast is bigger than we thought. It would be humiliating and wasteful, not to mention deadly, were the small blast to light these explosives as well."
Sarina nodded and helped her drag the crate to the edge of the wooded clearing. "Do you want to do the honors, Sakura?"
Smirking, Sakura bent to the small fire she'd built and drew out a stick with the end aflame. She drew her hand back and lobbed it toward the site where Sarina had been working. There was a moment of silence, then a sudden, small burst of fire as the powder scattered around lit, followed almost instantly with a violent explosion of fire and ground.
When the smoke cleared, it revealed a crater almost six feet across where the explosive had been. Sarina smiled at the success of the venture.
"More effective than I could have hoped," a deep voice said. Lord Fulin, head of the Gaoling resistance, stepped out of the trees where he and a few others had been watching their demonstration. "If it is as sensitive to fire as you say, then it should be a simple matter to get the firebenders to trigger their own demise."
"You saw how quickly it went off with just the stick," Sakura pointed out.
"True." He stepped over to the crate and inspected the other explosive devices inside. "These are big enough to do a good bit of damage," he said thoughtfully.
"The Ayanoran Pass seems like a good spot to me," Sarina put in. She'd made that rugged trek not all that long ago, and the steep, high cliffs to either side were still fresh in her mind. "It's where the troops are heading, isn't it?" she asked, with a glance to Fulin, who nodded. "Then if we plant a lot of these in the pass and the walls, we could block their best route to Gaoling, cause them several days of backtracking, and possible slay or injure some of them."
Fulin scowled. "We'd have to move quickly, but that… hmmm. That's an interesting idea." He clapped his fist to his hand and bowed to the two teenage girls, and they both bowed back. "Thank you, Sakura, Sandstorm. You have rendered a valuable service to your country."
"It was Sandstorm's idea, anyway," Sakura said, glancing over at Sarina. "She came up with it and found an alchemist. I just helped with logistics and procurement."
"An idea isn't any good if nothing comes of it," Sarina shrugged. "Couldn't have done it without you."
Fulin beckoned, and several people came forward to lift the crate and carry it back to the Underground base, not too far away. The test had been conducted into the woods far enough that it wouldn't draw undue attention from anyone who didn't know what was going on.
They all started walking back, the men carrying the crate handling it with care. Sakura's alchemist might have said that they were safe being knocked around, but no one wanted to put that to the test. Better to be safe than blown into a million tiny pieces and then incinerated into ashes, in Sarina's opinion.
Sakura looked a little grim as they continued. Sarina glanced over at her, and raised an eyebrow. "Snakeworm up your rear?"
"Excuse me?" the other girl said, slightly incredulously.
Sarina smirked. It was far from the crudest expression she'd picked up, traveling with her cousin for weeks. Nasr would never be accused of gentle breeding, that was for certain. "You looked like something was eating at you."
Sakura shrugged. "Something big, red, fiery, and approaching fast." She glanced to Fulin. "Is the army really almost to the Ayanoran Pass?"
He nodded. "Once they make it through, it's straight sailing to Gaoling."
"But if we bring down the Pass, won't they have to backtrack around the worst of the peaks?" Sarina asked. "Surely that would slow them down significantly."
"They wouldn't backtrack," one of the other men said. "Ayanoran's the best place to go, and they'll go there, even if they have to dig it out. Those Fire Nation demons are vicious as they come, but they know engineering front and back. Wouldn't be surprised if they cleared it with explosives of their own."
"But it would slow them down, which gives us more time to prepare. And evacuate as necessary," Fulin said.
"Do you really think people are going to evacuate?" Sakura asked. "I've heard a lot of people saying that they aren't going to leave. Some of them don't want to cause trouble. Some of them think the Fire Nation aren't that bad. Some of them want to put up a fight."
"And those are the ones I'm worried about," Fulin growled.
Sarina looked at him in surprise. "Why?"
"Because as much as I hate the Fire Nation, I'd rather see Gaoling under Fire Nation rule than turn out like Dai Gilang," he said darkly. "The Underground will fight them, but we won't bring the city into it. If we can keep them from getting to Gaoling, so much the better. If we can't… may the spirits have mercy on us, because those bloody idiots will ensure that the Fire Nation won't."
"'Those bloody idiots' meaning the people who want to fight?" Sakura clarified, somewhat confused.
"Right. It's not that I don't agree with fighting the Fire Nation. Obviously I support fighting them! But those fools who want to fight without thinking it through are going to doom us all. If I had my way, we'd be evacuating Gaoling right now. Every woman and child out. Within reason," he added, seeing the looks that both Sarina and Sakura were throwing him. "Get them all away, and fortify the city. We'd barricade the roads, shore up the walls, and turn the whole thing into a death trap. We know the city, we'd have time to prepare. They would likely overrun us anyway, but at least we would make them pay dearly for it. But if people don't evacuate, we can't do that. With civilians still in the city, we can't set the kind of traps and draws that we need. And even if we did, once they finally broke in, they would show no mercy to anyone. That's what I'm afraid will happen. People are going to try to fortify the city and defend it, but they won't get anyone out. They'll make the Fire Army just angry enough that when those red-backed monsters get in, they will slaughter everyone and burn Gaoling to the ground."
Sarina swallowed, and touched the knife in her belt without thinking.
"It's not pretty," Fulin said grimly. "It's awful, and monstrous, and preventable. And, from the way things are looking, inevitable."
"Surely people would listen to that, though," Sakura said, looking shaken. "If you told people -"
"I tried." Fulin shook his head. "I tried. I approached the Council of Gaoling and begged them to evacuate the people. But they refused. I suspect they think they can buy off the Fire Nation, or some such rot. Nobles can be such idiots sometimes." He glanced over at Sakura. "A lot of Gaoling's revenue already comes from Fire Nation sources. Merchants do dealings with them. Financial houses hold Fire coin. There is a lot of the upper class that thinks they are impervious to the threat of the Fire Nation, but no one is. Not with them coming like this. Not with the Fire Lord so desperate to seize control of the South. No one is safe."
"Omashu couldn't stand to the Fire Nation," another man said. "What makes us think we can?"
"So you don't think we have a chance? You're just going to let them take over?" Sarina said, surprised by the amount of anger that stirred. When she first arrived she hadn't imagined that she'd grow any sort of attachment to this place, but... she had. She didn't want to see the resistance just lie down and accept defeat.
"Oh, we'll fight," Fulin said, smiling hollowly. "They will pay for every mile toward Gaoling in blood. Who knows? Perhaps the spirits will shower us with miracles and we'll hold them off."
"Perhaps the Avatar will save us," Sakura said, with some sarcasm.
"Why would the Avatar care about Gaoling?" Sarina asked.
"Why indeed," Fulin said tiredly. "Just pray that he ends this war before the whole world is bathed in flames and death."
;=;=;=;=;
"Message from Omashu!"
Everyone froze, then turned toward the shouting man running toward them along the shaped cavern halls of the Underground base. He was waving a sealed piece of paper in one hand. "Message from the Omashu cell!"
"What does it say, man?" Fulin snapped, despite the fact that the message was still sealed. He grabbed it from the messenger and opened it hastily, as everyone watched, two still holding the crate of explosives between them.
Fulin's eyes scanned over the paper, taking in the characters. There was a long, tense moment, before he sagged with relief and turned to everyone. "Everyone is out of Omashu," he said quietly. "It's dated a week and a half ago. Everyone except the king got out of the city; they're heading for Ba Sing Se now."
Sarina's eyes widened, and she felt her face tugging up into a smile against her will. Nasr is safe. They hadn't gotten along very well, but she'd be lying through her teeth if she claimed she hadn't been very worried when Omashu fell, with her cousin somewhere in there.
"But… what about the king?" someone that she couldn't see asked.
"He was unable to leave with the rest of them," Fulin said. "He stayed behind, diverting resources and attention so everyone could get away safely, without the Fire Nation harassing them. Brave, crazy old soul is probably dead or worse, now," he added grimly. "Spirits have mercy."
;=;=;=;=;
Lao stared at the sheet of paper in front of him, covered in figures. He was trying to work through the net benefits for the past year from his northern holdings and lands, but he just couldn't focus. Normally, all it took to make him happy about doing it was thinking about how much gold he'd be getting, but today not even that would make his mind turn to it.
He growled and pushed the sheet away, knocking something off his large marble desk in the process. It landed on the floor with the sound of glass breaking, and he grabbed at his hair. Why was nothing going his way?
With another growl, he bent down to see the mess, and froze. A small watercolor painting of two little dark-haired girls looked up at him, the glass frame around the image shattered. The older of the girls had her hands on the shoulders of the younger. Sunlight played across both of them, illuminating two sets of eyes, one bright emerald, the other misty green. Toph had been only four, and Meilin seven, at the time of the painting.
What happened? he wondered, slowly picking up the picture, heedless of the sharp glass shards. Where did my little girls go? Everything had been fine, everyone was well, and then all of a sudden his family fell apart and his life was turned upside down and shaken briskly. Toph thought she was some sort of great earthbender – his Toph, his sweet little lotus blossom, so fragile and precious! - and had run away with the Avatar, along with Zhi and little Jiao. And Meilin was still here, but was she really? He didn't think he knew her at all! She'd been such a perfect lady, a credit to her family and upbringing, the very image of her mother. But now she ran around consorting with crazy warmongers and dangerous rebels, and didn't care what he said.
For that matter, Poppy wasn't the same, either. She wasn't of gentle birth, and when he'd married her, she'd had a bit of a wild streak, but motherhood and years of nobility had made her into a true lady. Except now she acted even stranger than before. Like she didn't care that her children were in danger, that her daughter was bringing shame to the family. He didn't know what was happening to his family and his life, but he desperately hoped it was all a terrible dream that he'd wake from soon. He didn't really feel angry anymore, just... tired. Tired and confused.
Standing, Lao walked out of the room, leaving the broken glass behind him. Late afternoon sunlight played across the hall, shining in through the open curtains. Cloth slippers shushed on the polished stone floor as he crossed to the west garden door and slowly pushed it open.
Poppy was kneeling by a flowering bush, doing something with her hands, seemingly unheeding of the dirt getting on her simple robes. He peered closer, and scowled in confusion. It almost looked like she was stropping a knife across a leather strap.
Unable to suppress his curiosity, even with his unhappiness, Lao left the doorway and walked toward her, along the well-cared-for gravel paths. She looked up at his approach, still pulling the knife across the leather. And it was unmistakably a knife, shiny silver metal in an odd shape.
"What are you doing?" he asked, and yes, he could tell she was stropping a knife, but he meant why?
Poppy seemed to understand. "I will protect what's mine, Lao."
He crouched down next to her, frowning. "You don't have to. We have guards and servants for a reason. You don't have to worry about it." Not as if she could do anything about it, he added silently. "You won't need that knife."
She slowed, meeting his eyes. "The Fire Nation is coming. What are you going to do?"
He rocked back, stammering. Who was this woman who'd replaced his meek, sweet wife? The direct question had caught him off guard. "I… I don't – what – it's, it's not your concern-"
"Lao." She held his eyes, with the same blazing emerald gaze that captured him all those years ago, and he'd been a fool to think time and gentility had dulled it at all. "What are you going to do?"
"Why should I do anything?" he shot back defensively. "They won't harm us. They know me. I have dealings with them."
"With the merchants, perhaps. But we aren't being attacked by the merchants, are we?"
"Don't question me, woman," Lao said angrily. "I know the army is less inclined to view us with goodwill, but I have documents. Letters. My Fire Nation contacts won't let us be targeted when the army arrives." He took a deep breath and smoothed his robes, sitting more comfortably. "We'll be fine. Once Gaoling is securely occupied, life will go back to normal."
Poppy held up the knife, light glinting off its polished edge. "But it won't."
"It…"
"It won't and you know it." Her hand flicked, and all of a sudden the knife was not there anymore, and his ears caught the thunk to the side and turned, to see the knife quivering slightly in the narrow wood rail of a decorative bridge, some twenty feet away. "I didn't marry a fool, Lao. Don't pretend you are one. The Fire Nation isn't going to be as merciful as you think they are. Our children are still 'rebelling against your authority'. You have to accept that change is here to stay."
He was still staring after the knife. Finally he turned back to her, choosing to address the less volatile of the topics she'd brought up. "Poppy, our children will come to their senses-"
"They already have." Another knife appeared in her hands like magic, and she began to pull that one across the leather as well.
"They-"
"I should have acted before. Should have seen that our children needed so much more. I didn't want to upset our lives too much, though. More fool me."
"Poppy-"
"Your father didn't want you to marry me," she said distantly. "He said that I would never be fit for the life of an Earth Kingdom noblewoman, said that I would only bring shame to the House, that I was nothing but a foolish peasant that happened to have a pretty face. He was so sure you'd come to your senses. But you married me anyway. I always wondered if it was because, for once in your life, you wanted to be out of that foul old man's control."
"It – no, it wasn't, I – I loved you, Poppy. I still do." How long had it been since he'd told her that?
"I was going to prove him wrong. I worked ceaselessly to become a noble lady, to learn the countless pointless customs, to understand politics and intrigue, to be everything he thought I couldn't be. I wanted to prove that I, a peasant, could be just as noble as those born to it. I didn't realize that I was turning into him. Controlling my children, looking down on those in lower classes, thinking of profit and gain and favor instead of the good of my family." The knife and leather fell into her lap, and she tightened her fists. "Where did we go wrong, Lao? What have we turned into?"
Lao really had no idea what was going on now. Bewildered at Poppy's strange behavior and rambling thoughts, he touched her shoulder. "Perhaps you're tired," he suggested. "The stress of the last while might be affecting you more heavily than you thought. Some sleep might help…"
"Sleep won't change the fact that we drove our children away from us," Poppy said.
"Poppy."
She shook her head, picking up the knife again and drawing a deep breath. "My question still remains, Lao. What are you going to do when the Fire Nation comes?"
"We'll find a way to get through it," he said firmly, pushing away the niggling worries and doubts. He had to be confident. It was the only way they'd make it through this mess, and they had to, else his wayward children wouldn't have a safe home to return to when they finally came back. Because they would come back. He refused to acknowledge the possibility that they were gone for good. "I can talk to them. Meet with the generals. Bribe if I have to. It won't come to violence."
"So you say." Another flick of her hands, and the knife blurred through the air. Lao looked over in time to see it stick into the wooden bridge rail, almost touching the other knife. "But if something goes wrong?"
"It won't," Lao said, knowing that it was a lie. Nothing ever went perfectly according to plan.
"We need to be prepared," Poppy said, pinning him with her gaze. "In case the worst comes to pass. We can't be caught with nothing."
She was right. They needed to be prepared for every eventuality. But somehow, preparing for the worst was like accepting it was going to happen. It was like conceding defeat. "I don't think…"
"I will prepare," Poppy said. "I will be ready. I will protect what's mine. I hope you will, too." A third knife materialized in her hands, and she set about stropping it.
Lao studied his wife for a moment. She was still as beautiful as she'd been the day he met her. Time and motherhood had been kind to her, curving her figure and lending elegance to her features. The scattered silver threads twining her hair did nothing to detract from her appearance. And the gleaming knife in her hands made for a strange picture, but somehow, one that wasn't as out of place as he might have once thought.
"As you wish," he said eventually, standing. If he was going to make serious preparations in the event of disaster, he needed to begin as soon as possible. The northern holdings could wait.