Yajna
The first step in any Avatar's journey, since time immemorial, has been to travel the world seeking wisdom of the other elements. Having paid the price of initiation, Azula and Katara would study under the great master of the Northern Water Tribe. Unbeknownst to her, a storm gathered in the south…
The waters in the bay were calm at dawn. Lanaq and Azula rowed out through the placid blue. Lanaq sat at the head of the long canoe, Azula at the stern. Hahn's body lay in repose in the center, adorned with dried flowers and silver beads.
When the city was at the edge of the horizon, Lanaq announced "this is far enough." He turned to face Azula, laying his oar on his lap. Azula sat silently as the man clasped his hands and began singing prayers in his own tongue.
She wore the ashes of mourning today, rubbed around her eyes like eyeshadow. It stung at her skin and eyes, the tears streaking the gray down her cheeks. She'd already done her due to the dead last night, and now that there was no cremation she was at a loss for what piety demanded of her.
Lanaq completed his prayer. Clearing his throat, he lit a bundle of dried leaves on the smoldering end of a torch. The still air filled with fragrant, waxy smoke, not unlike the incense they burned at fire temples. He wafted the smoke to him before setting the bundle on the bench before him. "This is as far as we go together, my son. But I'll follow along soon enough, I think. Find a good fishing spot and wait for me there."
Hahn's body had been bundled up in fine cloth, laden down with stones. "Is there anything I should do or say?" Azula asked.
"Speak from your heart, and the words will follow."
That may have been the hardest thing. But with only the dead and her fellow pall-bearer to hear her, it was worth a try. She imagined herself reaching down and plunging a gold-key into her chest, turning it as the blood spilt from the wound until the latch finally clicked open. She took a deep breath, and opened her mouth. "Why did you make me kill you, you idiot?!" Crap.
Azula looked up to beg forgiveness, but only found a wry smile on Lanaq's lips. "Go on."
"I just…it's senseless. You went from hating me to trusting me in your very last moment, and now I have to mourn the friendship that we might have had. I have already taken many lives on this journey, and yours is the first that I have regretted, that I have mourned, and now it occurs to me it won't be the last."
His father stood in the canoe to hand the smoldering bundle of herbs to Azula, saying "Take this." Her eyes watered in the smoke, sending fresh streaks of ash down her cheeks. But the smoke was almost calming.
"Your father is a good man, Hahn. I suppose he taught you how to fight as well. You were brave and ferocious as the wolf. Some day, perhaps when the war is over, I shall have to return here and beg his forgiveness."
"I loved my boy from the moment he opened his eyes until the moment you closed them."
Azula winced.
"But I could never stop him from following his heart. I do not blame you for his death, Daughter of the Sun, but it will take time."
There was a finality in watching Hahn's body slip beneath the blue waters. After heaving his body overboard, Azula stood in the canoe, clasping the burning sage between her hands in namaste pose, giving one last prayer in the ancient tongue of the Vedas.
The journey back was accompanied only by the sounds of oars piercing the placid blue waters. The deed was done, and Azula was sure that Lanaq needed space from her as much as she needed it from him. With every glance she felt his eyes boring into her, judging her, condemning her. However his private grief haunted him, at least right now he appeared to be stoically enduring.
As much as it pained her, she needed to be alone right now, no matter how the loneliness cut into her. She would be terrible company for anyone right now, and it would do no good to spread her misery around. As she made the long walk up from the wharf to the palace, a pall of silence followed her.
Men and women stopped to watch her as she passed. The hum of buying and selling ceased in the market, the workshops ground to a standstill. Guards on their patrols placed a hand on their sword or gripped their spears tighter. The wound left by the yikim was still fresh, and however much they talked of honor or the ways of their tribe, it seemed there was still no escaping human nature.
Azula may have sworn her fealty and been betrothed to the daughter of the chief, but she remained an alien in the eyes of the Northern Water Tribe. The rituals of honor duels might work their magic in time, but right now every glance her way reminded her that she'd been branded with the Fire Nation's seal at birth. When she was among Katara, Sokka and their kin, Azula could pretend that she really belonged, the words "our people" could mean something on her tongue. But up here, it seemed there was no pleasing anyone.
The ashes of mourning had mostly rubbed off by now, and she felt it was time to reapply it. When she reached the palace, Azula went straight for the stables where Ikki slept. The stableboy bowed and scurried away as Azula stormed in. The coals in the brazier were still glowing red, but they could not warm the chill in her soul.
Azula bowed in the namaste pose again, whispering another prayer to Yamaraja to look in on Hahn, and make sure he made it safely to the abode of his gods, and a prayer to Sedna, for it was always pious to respect a goddess in her own country.
She then plunged her hand into the brazier, snatching out a large lump of coal. It was not dangerous for someone of her Firebending ability. It would leave no mark on her skin. But it burned all the same as she crushed the coal in her hands, sucking the fire out of it till nothing but charcoal remained.
Azula applied it liberally around her eyes, leaving a black band across her face from the top of her cheeks to her eyebrows. Some warmth had returned to her bones by now. She'd grown used to the coal and ash now, and her eyes barely watered this time. After washing her hands in the snow, Azula went to brush out Ikki's coat. Her winter coat was coming in fine, and this meant the shedding of the lighter summer fur.
It was the ideal solace right now. The motions were repetitive, mechanical. And Ikki cooed with appreciation as the old fur piled on the stable floor. Azula wasn't sure how much time had passed when Yue's voice pierced the still air.
"I thought I'd find you here," said Yue. "Sokka said that you liked to be alone when you were troubled, but I don't think that's quite right. You are quite protective of your bison. Her company gives you comfort."
Azula brush strokes were languid as she looked at Yue over her shoulder. The princess was dressed again in her gossamer thin gown, but she did not shiver in the arctic air. Azula smiled despite herself. "I am an open book to you, Yue."
"I think we share the same habit. It's not good for us though, is it?"
"Likely not. I…I'm not used to having people who I can just…rely on to be there without obligation. Without some expectation of gain. Even with my closest friends I always had that doubt. Whether they truly liked me."
Yue walked closer. She put on a brave face, but she was skittish around Ikki. "May I?"
"Of course. Ikki is an intelligent, gentle creature. Treat her with respect and she will show you the same."
Their fingers touched as Yue took the brush from Azula. Though her nose wrinkled at the acrid smell of the ash on Azula, Yue did not shrink away. She lingered, letting their bodies brush together casually.
Something bade Azula to stand behind Yue, to take the Water princess's hand in hers, to guide her hand as she brushed Ikki. "Like this," Azula whispered. The bison grunted, a long suffering itch finally scratched.
"I think I'm getting the hang of this. Father always said stable work was far beneath a princess."
"He's a fool."
Yue giggled.
"I probably shouldn't have said that about my future father-in-law, but it's true. There's no shame in self-reliance, regardless of our station."
"You should probably guard your tongue more in public, but in private I think I like your honesty." Yue pressed closer to Azula, pulling the warrior's free hand to her belly. "Are you comfortable?"
Azula wasn't. It took a long moment to parse out just what she was feeling and why. "I'm conflicted. I like you Yue, really I do. But my heart is still broken. I want to be a good wife to you. Or husband, I suppose. But damnit…all this has been a whirlwind, and I don't think anyone has bothered to ask you if you're okay with this betrothal."
Yue giggled again, patting Azula's hand. "I meant the touching. Katara cautioned me that it takes time for you to become comfortable with touch. I can stop if you wish."
"That's what I meant too. But…you don't have to stop."
"Good. I hope there will be time for us to properly court. But I think this is a good start."
Their conversation drifted away to lighter topics. Yue loved sea prune relish, whether as a dip for flatbreads or a sauce for other vegetables. Azula wondered if she'd like curry as well, based on her description of the seasonings involved. They both loathed weaving, and as far as 'feminine' arts were concerned, they both agreed calligraphy and music were much more tolerable. Yue was quite accomplished in the dízi flute, a cultural import from the Earth Kingdom. Azula thought her sitar skills were good, but no one but her ruthlessly critical teachers and sycophants ever commented on her skill so she remained unsure.
This bridged them into talking about singing, poetry and literature. Yue's voice was lovely, even unaccompanied, and suddenly Azula felt like she'd missed out by shunning singing as a useless skill. Power, perfection and duty were all her father had taught her. Azula remembered her uncle musing wistfully that he'd wished he'd spent more time in his youth enjoying life and good company, finding little solace in the dry bones and dead friends in his twilight years.
A traitorous thought ran through Azula's head: never once in her entire life had she seen her father happy. Pleased, amused, satisfied, or in command, yes. But as far back as her memories stretched she couldn't recall any moments of joy. A strange swell of pity followed, eating into the white-hot hatred. She could not afford this twinge of mercy, this weakness.
Instinctually, Azula pulled away from Yue. "Is something the matter?" Yue said, hand outstretched.
"It's fine."
Yue's worry did not relent.
Something had unearthed these feelings of forgotten anger and hurt. Azula tried to push it aside. "Just…memories. Please continue."
She knew the words of Yue's song, yet could not speak the language. But it wasn't the gift of the Other Memory that dredged up this melancholy. When Azula recognized it, the most vile self-loathing washed over her. It was because Yue's singing voice was uncannily like her mother's. A mother whose affection was given sparingly and with conditions that she could not fulfill. Who loved Zuko no matter how pathetic he could be, yet looked at her like damaged goods.
That resentment was spilling over to Yue right now, only to turn inwards and suck the warmth out of Azula.
"You're…you're crying," Yue said. She placed a hand on Azula's cheek.
"It's not your fault, think nothing of it."
"No, I must know. I don't want to make you cry."
"I said I'm fine!" Azula cried, turning away, shrugging off Yue's hand. Just like that, closed off, armor on. It was an old habit, and it would die hard. She might fight it for the rest of her life.
Yue looked on the verge of tears when she said, "I'm sorry, I should go."
Azula waited until she was almost at the stable door before chasing after. "Wait!"
Yue stopped immediately. Azula ran over, falling to one knee at Yue's feet, head bowed. "My deepest regrets, I should not have treated you so. You least of all."
Yue knelt down, tipping Azula's head up with her fingers on the girl's chin. "There's an old wound that I've touched, haven't I? Please let me know what it is, so that I don't hurt you again."
Azula's lip quivered, but she slipped naturally into the seiza mirroring Yue. "I haven't told a single soul about this. Yamakṣaya, I don't even know where to begin!" She huffed out hot air. "Your singing voice, it reminded me of my mother's."
"Oh, oh no. Is she gone?"
"Yes…but it's not for the reasons you think. I never had a good relationship with her. No, that's not the whole truth. I don't think she loved me. I'll never know one way or the other."
"Forgive me, I don't mean to sound incredulous, but why do you think that she didn't love you?"
Thinking about it was like putting her hand on a hot stove. This pain had been buried deep, but the embers still burned as she unearthed it. "She never once held me, not since I was old enough to walk. Tending to me was pretty exclusively the job of the household nurses, and those were rotated regularly, as was custom, to prevent any undue affection. She was never so reserved with my older brother Zuko. She spoiled him with affection, and sometimes the only way I could get her attention was by acting out."
"That's horrible. How could any mother do that to her child?"
"I don't think she wanted me. When I became older, I snooped around, looking for answers. One evening, my governess Lo accidentally let slip that my conception was ordered by my grandfather, who was still Fire Lord then, over the protests of his son and daughter-in-law. I can only speculate on the motives."
"Azula." Yue's words cut the silent air. "I am so sorry."
Azula took a deep breath and collected her thoughts. "My brother had been a difficult birth. Father always said he was lucky to be born, and what a labor of love it must have been for mother to endure that, one she did not want to repeat."
Yue took Azula's hands in hers to fill this silent moment. That gentle pressure pushed Azula to look into the place she'd dare not look before.
"I think my father raped my mother to conceive me." Azula's voice was quiet as a mouse now. Only now did Azula even dare to follow the treasonous line of logic to its conclusion: that she was a child of rape, however sugarcoated it was behind words like 'duty to the Fire Nation'. Father had, despite his protests, been Azulon's accomplice in the act. And as the supreme insult atop this injury, Azula had been made namesake to the architect of this crime.
Yue pulled Azula into a fierce hug, ash staining her pristine cheek. Azula felt Yue's tears wet her jacket, and something told her that it was finally okay to cry. But the tears wouldn't come, she'd run out of tears for her shattered relationship with her mother long ago.
"I suppose that explains…everything. Why she loved him so much, why father would talk of their affection during their courting but I would never see any remaining between them. Why…why she'd commit treason for Zuko."
"She did what?"
Azula looked up at the position of the Sun on the horizon. She was due to meet her new Waterbending master soon. "Walk with me, I'll explain on the way."
It was something she'd only spoken of in whispers of half-truths before. Even to Katara. She wasn't ready yet to really dig at that old wound then. She explained on the way to the training hall the events of the last audience with Azulon, after the death of her cousin Lu Ten and the defeat of Iroh's forces at Ba Sing-Se, when the General-Prince turned prodigal and her father made his bid become the new heir. Hiding, eavesdropping. Scared, confused, high on the adrenaline, stammering out her warning to Zuko, of the penalty that Azulon had demanded. Then waking up the next day to grandfather being dead, having supposedly given a deathbed decree making Ozai his heir. And her mother disappearing, no one willing to talk about it.
"I don't have any proof of course. But I think at my father's inducing, my mother poisoned Azulon. And the price for this was to disappear forever, so that if anyone were to raise doubts she'd be suspected to have acted alone. And once she'd been missing for the requisite time, father could divorce her in absentia and remarry."
The training hall was as silent as the grave since the learned old Master walked in. Katara stood at attention, Azula at her side, as the old man circled, casting his stony gaze at her. The Master was wizened, with snow white hair wreathing his head. His whiskers and goatee had the last freckles of brown in their white strands. His fawn skin was weathered by the harsh winds. He wore his parka half-buttoned, the v-neckline of her undershirt revealed a silver talisman hanging at his collarbone.
He walked like the waves in a smoothly rolling gait. He was spry as a man half his age, and the beads woven into the locks of his hair told the tale of a warrior who lived long in a profession where many died young.
The Master had nothing kind to say when he finally spoke. "I was the last to consent to your training, Katara. Your very presence in this hall is a mockery of our most ancient traditions. And the Avatar, who I am to thank for this sacrilege."
"With all due respect," Katara huffed, "I am the last Waterbender of the South. It has never been our way to turn away kin in need."
The Master scoffed. "Did it not occur to you that you being the last is judgment for your heretical ways?"
Katara's blood was boiling. She tunnel visioned on the old man, muscles taught, about to charge forward. But Azula caught her hand, and the sudden squeeze brought her back from the edge of rage. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled all her anger. "Master, do you live for the good of the tribe?"
"How dare you–"
"Do you?"
"My name is Pakku, namesake of my father, and I have fought more battles than you have moons. Do you dare to question my honor?"
"Your chief gave you an order, and all I hear are complaints and excuses. My name is Katara, daughter of Chief Hakoda, and I have traveled from one end of the earth to the other for the sake of my people."
"Be careful what you wish for, Katara."
That afternoon, as both of them stumbled back to their new hut on the palace grounds, sore and hungry, Katara decided that Pakku was the meanest old sod she'd ever known. Everything hurt, and despite the exertion she was chilled down to her bones.
Her clothes were still damp, and try as she might she could not wring any more water out of them with her bending. While Katara rooted around still packed bags for a change of clothing, Azula was busy stoking the masonry stove to life. It was no small task even for a Firebender; the stove relied on a large mass of masonry and complicated flues to extract all the heat from fuel. Once it got up to temperature it burned like dragonfire, but cold it was stubborn and slow as molasses.
But Azula had underestimated the weight of the cold air in the chimney. Without heat for a draft, the stove was belching smoke from the front. "You sunburnt dick! Light will you!" Azula shouted, balling up her hair in her fist.
Katara blinked. "Sunburnt dick?"
Azula flushed crimson, remembering she wasn't alone. "It's old country profanity. Something lazy and useless."
"Sort of like calling someone a penguin's tits?" Katara asked with a giggle. She was so used to Gran-Gran's scoldings looming over her head that she was still getting used to actually just saying it.
"I guess. Well, if you're not going to come quietly, you leave me no choice, stove." Azula's eyes flickered as she lit her palm.
"Azula wait–"
Jets of blue fire erupted out of vents and oven doors on the stove. Katara had to smother a few escaped embers. But the stove was lit now, with Azula sitting in front of it looking pleased as punch. "What?" she asked, and Katara realized she was staring slack jawed at Azula.
Yue's voice came from the door. "You know, there are easier ways to light a stove."
Azula's ash-streaked face didn't show a hint of remorse. "I am cold and wet, Yue. I didn't want easy, I wanted quick."
Yue knelt by the firebox and fed a few lumps of seacoal in. After checking the vents, she closed the pig iron door. No sooner had she stood, Azula was right back at the firebox, playing with the fire growing in its belly. "These things take several hours to warm up, but they'll keep a hut warm for a day on a single scuttle once they do. I know a place where you can warm your bones while it heats up, some place away from prying eyes. Join me?"
Katara's stomach audibly growled. "That sounds delightful. But prying eyes?"
"They've been tailing us at least since we left Pakku's," Azula said casually. "Perhaps longer. I'm interested in how you propose to lose them."
"There are sacred places that are invitation only. Places that no man would dare violate the sanctity of, especially with a priestess present." Yue looked over Katara's clothes splayed out on her sleeping pallet. A well cut silk dress in the Northern Earth Kingdom style caught the snow princess's eye. "Bring this along with you. Afterwards, we shall sup at the palace, and I think you would look so lovely in it."
Azula's ears perked up. She stopped babying the burning seacoal, and closed the firebox door, satisfied with the vents for now. She tiptoed over to get a better look, thinking Katara didn't notice. Almost unconsciously, the princess inserted herself between Katara and Yue, brushing shoulder to shoulder. "It…it would look lovely."
Katara smiled and rested her hand on Azula's hip. A faint blush peeked out from behind the ash-band on Azula's cheeks. "Well then that settles it. Where are we going?"
"A hot-spring, one devoted to the Alaz Khan, a spirit of earth and fire, who came to these lands many millennia ago shepherding his people, the Ket. The Ket and the Yupighyt would unite from this migration, forming the most ancient ancestors of the modern Water Tribe. Since that union, it has been a sacred place representing where fire and water meet."
"Honestly, that sounds delightful," Azula said, "But I fear I will be underdressed for the meal after. I have only rough travel clothes." She was suddenly self-conscious, and Katara wondered if Azula was dwelling on the life she had left behind.
"There's no trouble at all," Yue beamed, placing a hand on Azula's shoulder. "I have taken the liberty of having a dress made for you, I shall have my handmaiden bring it."
Azula did not shrug away from Yue's touch, and that brought a twinge of jealousy that Katara had to bite back. They had become very comfortable so fast, and this stoked the fear in her. She knew Azula well enough now that she kept up such a barrier that Sokka, who was undoubtedly one of Azula's favorite people (despite her protests), was only now getting to the point of casual familiarity with her.
The trek to this sacred place had been chilly in her still damp clothes and parka. But as Katara ascended the steps carved into the glacier face, she could feel the warm winds on the mountain.
The temple was nestled into a small butte peeking from the glacier. A warm creek of flowing water emanated from the butte's east face, streaming into a deep canyon in the glacier. Yue explained that the waters fed the Spirit Oasis, a place even more sacred than Alaz's temple. "A symbol of fire's supplication to the ocean here," she concluded.
Azula only nodded. There were many elemental Spirits throughout the world, and most people had come to recognize these as just different names for the same Spirit. The Agni that Azula spoke of in hushed tones around the campfire was a jealous god, and the very suggestion that he bowed to anyone save the inscrutable Svayam Bhagavān, a name Katara had never heard before Azula mentioned him, was deeply offensive. But then again, Katara supposed that Azula had always had a more balanced piety than she'd expected from an ashmaker.
Ashmaker–there was a word that had unexpectedly fallen from Katara's vocabulary the moment she met Azula. Not because the princess found it offensive, but because she found it baffling that it could be an insult. Fire refines and purifies, and the ash that remains behind is sown into the earth to give a bounty of new life.
The three women were guided through the expected pieties by a lone priestess in her late forties. After leaving their clothes to dry, they washed in the temple antechamber, a granite room immaculately carved from the living rock. Even here the heat of the spring was pleasant, and Katara couldn't wait to sink into that wonderful hot water.
Azula took the longest washing. She seemed to overcompensate whenever bathing, so used to servants attending her, that now she seemed unsatisfied unless she went over every part at least twice. Coupled with the ash on her face, this was an extended process that Katara ended up intervening in to speed along. Azula knelt, eyes closed, while Katara scrubbed the mild soap over her eyes and face, gently coaxing away the last of the residues. Some petty part of Katara couldn't stop herself from smirking over Azula's shoulder at Yue. But the priestess didn't seem to mind at all.
Yue had, after all, been the one to propose something scandalous. But there would be time before that bridge was crossed. Katara looked back at Azula, smiling pleasantly with her eyes closed, enjoying Katara's touch. It was tempting to kiss her again. But as much as the idea of surging ahead thrilled Katara, Azula had been right. It was too dangerous for both of them.
Azula did not really approve of Sokka's and Suki's fraternization, but it was tolerable because neither bore the responsibility that Azula did. Azula was their leader as well as the Avatar, and though it had saddened the princess, she understood why they'd all sworn their oaths in the Southern Air Temple. But beyond even that, Katara also knew, even if Azula couldn't put it into words, that she was not ready to be intimate, to be that vulnerable to another person.
Even now, Azula was still reticent to talk about why. But Katara didn't need to know the full story. Azula would tell her in the fullness of time. For now it was enough to see that Azula was content and comfortable.
After Yue made her offerings to the shrine, the trio settled into that wonderful hot water. Azula lay reclined on the steps in the pool, steaming water coming up to her neck. "Oh this is heavenly," she purred.
Yue slipped in on Azula's right. The princess's white hair splayed out over Azula's unbound hair. Undoing the last ties in her own hair, Katara settled in on the left, placing a clean towel over her eyes to just soak into the hot oblivion.
"I'd almost forgotten how much I missed the palace baths," Azula thought aloud. "It's been over a year since I've been home, I've forgotten what a pampered creature I…I am…" Azula suddenly sunk deeper into the water.
That crestfallen note in her words tugged at Katara's heart. She turned on her side, finding Azula sunk almost to her nose in the water, eyes misty. Her lip quivered just under the surface.
"What's wrong?" asked Katara.
Yue roused now, turning to meet Katara's eyes.
After a moment's hesitation, Azula murmured "it's nothing." When her bubbles didn't placate Katara and Yue, she rose from the water. "I was reminded of my old friends again, Mai and Ty Lee."
Katara nodded, not wanting to pick that scab.
But Yue hugged Azula, resting her forehead on Azula's temple. A thin tear rolled down Azula's cheek, tracing along the pale white scar. "They were once my only friends. Now I am blessed with so many more. And a traitor to my nation. What must they think of me now?"
Zuko's airship landed just before dusk, the low clouds glowing crimson in the dying light. Airship–Zeisan would have spat its name if she'd uttered it aloud. The crude early model was more of an air dinghy unfit for royalty. But it had brought the Crown Prince home with the pace that had been required.
Mai stood beside her, stubborn as ever. Zeisan stole surreptitious glances at her as they watched the balloon descend. For a lord's daughter, she was such a dismal girl, a coiled viper beneath her long robes. Zeisan supposed that must have been what drew her to Azula. As much as she loved Zuko, she resented what must have surely been her parents' desire that she seduce him by whatever means necessary.
Instead, Mai had attached herself to the princess, who had promised danger and excitement in her service. And would surely be a steadfast ally if Mai actually did manage to bag the Crown Prince. Sorry, my friend, but not if I can help it. Zeisan couldn't hide the smirk forming on her lips.
"I see you're happy to see Zuko," Mai said, not taking her eyes off the ship.
"Someone has to be, Mai. Besides, it has been too long since I've seen my cousin."
The whole landing process was tedious. Were it not for the anticipation, the slow manuevering and careful signaling to bring the rusty red gondola down softly on the pier would have bored Zeisan to tears. But the dock gangs soon had the lines and heaved the stubborn craft squarely onto the pad.
The boatswain piped a tune, then the weary prince tromped down the gangplank, followed by his aide-de-camp. Half asleep from the long flight, he did not notice the two women waiting for him.
"Cousin!" cried Zeisan, "It has been too long!" She surged head to wrap him up in a hug.
Roused from his stupor, Zuko was struck speechless for a moment. He tried to pull away, and a note of hurt plucked in her heart, because in that instant Zuko looked at her with anger and dread. The glare softened and he said "Zeisan?"
"It's been a while," Mai said, warmth in her voice. Arm still hooked around Zuko's shoulder, Zeisan glared back. If that's all it took to take Zuko's eyes off her, this would be an uphill battle.
"Mai…I'm glad to see you."
Recomposing herself, Zeisan strutted up the dock, "Come along, cousin. You must be famished."
Mai added, "We have quite the homecoming banquet planned at the manor."
"I'm sure it's lovely, but I know father will want to see me right away."
Zeisan beckoned again, making the come hither motion with her hand. "Afraid not; the Fire Lord is not in the capital presently. He is at Jonduri for the final delivery of the Year 98 Naval Plan. He sends his apologies, but he has left your homecoming to me."
"I see."
"I am sure he'll want to hear tales of your exploits when he returns to the Caldera. Come now cousin, I have a palanquin waiting for you."
"Thanks, but I'd prefer to walk."
Zeisan pursed her lips but let the snub roll off her like rain on her pauldrons. She nudged the majordomo, "I guess you lot can fuck off then."
There was something to be said for walking unchaperoned back to Mai's family manor. Once the crowds thinned further from the docks, it gave her a few unguarded moments to just talk. "It's good to have you back, cousin," she said. "Your father will need you by his side in these dark days."
Zuko grumbled. It sounded like an affirmation but Zeisan wasn't sure.
"You're among friends, there's no need to be on guard."
Mai tutted audibly.
"I still can't believe it."
"At the risk of sounding sentimental," Mai said, "I don't think Azula is totally lost to us. There's still good in her."
Her words struck Zuko like a dagger in the heart. He stopped in his tracks, looking back over his shoulder at Mai. "How can you say that, Mai? She killed one of companions in cold blood."
Zeisan didn't have long to decide, but her gut told her to play to the doubt in Zuko's voice. "I don't think Mai is wrong, Zuko. At the very least, I don't want her to be. For your sake if nothing else."
"What do you mean, cousin?"
"You are the only one who the Fire Lord can trust to track her down. The princess and I may have oft clashed before, but I do not wish to see her dead. Least of all by your hand, my prince."
"This is the first I'm hearing of this notion," Mai said. "Was it the Fire Lord's plan, or was it your lord father's?"
"The chancellor is but the humble servant of the Fire Lord, Mai." Zeisan smirked. "As are we all."
Notes: Sometimes sticking the landing as you near the climax is the hardest part of writing a story. But we'll get there eventually, even if it's taking longer than I anticipated.