"Why would you lie, why would you lie about how you feel?
I've got a mission and my mission is real, because you've had your chances, yeah, you've had enough.
I'm gonna burn your house down to spread peace and love."
-Declan McKenna, "Brazil"
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"Shut the door." Umara motioned at him gravely. "Listen, you were right about me hiding something, but it's not what you think." Her uncertain eyes flitted to gauge his reaction.
Zuko felt a painful gurgle in his stomach there was something more vulnerable to her demeanor, the unfeeling confidence absent from her eyes.
"I can't tell you exactly what it is, because I don't think you'd believe me. But trust me, what happened to me was a lot worse than losing a fight. You're not the only one who's screwed up." She turned her back to him and motioned to the back of her qipao top. "Untie this."
Zuko was tempted for a moment not to question her, but drew back uncertainly once his finger brushed against the cord holding her shirt together.
"Why?" He snapped at her skeptically. "What does you taking your shirt off have to do—"
"Ack. First of all, I'm not asking you to take my shirt off, so that's on you. Second of all, I'm trying to show you something, and trust me, whatever weird, horny thing you're feeling is gonna go away pretty quick, now just untie the knot at the bottom and pull the sides apart!" She scoffed at him, waving her hand sternly over her shoulder.
Zuko's face burned at her accusation, "Wha- I am not —Whatever." He slowly pulled at one of the ends of the knot, nearly undoing his own composure along with it. He swallowed hard as he watched it unravel, "I really don't see the poin—"
"Oh, Agni!" Umara wrenched her shoulders in an attempt to loosen the back herself. "How are you still so awkward!?" She complained as she fought against the garment, eventually resorting to reaching back and firmly pulling the sides apart herself, opening it far wider than she'd intended.
Zuko chocked when his eyes fell upon her secret. Partially obscured by the crisscrossing strings were long, snakelike rivers of red, leathery skin. It took him a few nauseated seconds to fully understand what he was looking at. They were scars, much like his own, but more meticulous. This wasn't done by some errant blast, they were long and slender, as if someone had deliberately ran their fingers across her back.
Whip marks...
"Who did that do you?!" The anguished cry exploded from his lungs as the full force of how unnecessarily cruel he'd been crushed his chest.
"Can you pull those, please?" Umara was casually fiddling with the strings behind her in an attempt to tighten the shirt back together.
"Mari!" Zuko urged as the room whirled out of focus around him.
She glanced back at him and rolled her eyes, miffed that he'd ignored her request. "Oh fine, you're no help. I'll do it myself," she pulled on the strings dangling on either side of her lower back, successfully getting the garment to cinch back together. "So, I'm 'Mari' again, huh? I guess that means—"
He grabbed her shoulder and roughly spun her around, "What happened?!"
Umara met his trembling gaze, matching it for just a second before reverting to an unbothered expression. "I got burned," She shrugged and gently plucked his hand from her shoulder, squeezing it as she returned it to his side. "I figured that went without saying."
"Stop doing that! You know what I'm asking!" Zuko had realized far too late that Umara hadn't been trying to trick him or set him up. Her attitude hadn't been malicious at all, she'd just been deflecting.
"Fine. Someone big and powerful kidnapped me and locked me up. I tried to escape on my own a couple times, but I got caught and he punished me. Once I finally did escape, my stupid jerk of a boyfriend decided that I must be some kind of evil person, and then made a special detour a year and a half later just so he could come yell at me about how horrible I am. Happy?" Umara raised her eyebrows at him facetiously, unimpressed by his sudden concern.
Zuko cringed, sarcasm was never a good sign coming from her. It meant she was mad, or whatever it was that she felt in place of anger, rather. She should be screaming at him, he'd prefer it if she was. That wasn't Umara, though. Somehow as hurt as she must be, she still handled things better than he did: even after how awful he'd been treating her. He knew he had to choose his next words very carefully. He thought for a moment, taking a slow breath to settle himself,
"I mean... technically the detour was my Uncle's idea—"
"Oh for—just get out!" She glared at him and pointed harshly to the door.
Zuko opened his mouth to argue, but thought better of it. He skulked out of the room, pausing in the doorway when he heard Umara pointedly clear her throat.
"You know, if you need to go yell at someone, your Uncle was the person who helped Chey and me escape."
"What?!" Zuko shrieked, his anger successfully reawakened.
She shrugged and shooed him the rest of the way out of her room,
"Bye!"
Umara locked the door behind him, immediately dropping her facade the moment he was gone. Her fingers scraped down her face as she sunk dejectedly against the door, the pit in her stomach threatening to swallow her whole. It was stupid to send him after his Uncle. What would happen if Iroh told him what Ozai had tried to do?
I should have just died with everyone else.
. . .
"I cant believe you didnt tell me!"
Iroh quizzically squinted one eye mid-sip from his tea cup. "I am afraid you are going to have to be more specific." He shrugged as he watched his nephew stewing in the doorway.
"Stop playing coy, Uncle! Umara told me that you were the one that helped her and that traitor escape!" Zuko spat as he slammed the door shut behind him.
Iroh sighed and set down his cup. Whatever the girl had told him, Zuko had clearly missed the point.
"You should be mindful of who you call a traitor, Nephew. It was a desperate situation that called for decisive measures. Chey gave up life as he knew it to save your friend, you really should be more greatful. Unless you would have preferred she stay in such a terrible situation." He watched as the gears spun in his Nephew's mind. There was no doubt the boy must have been overwhelmed by what Umara had told him, though Iroh could tell she hadn't given him the whole story. He was far too calm.
Zuko tensely rubbed his temples, "She said someone 'big and powerful' kidnapped her. Who was it?" his voice has settled into a low, impatient, hiss.
Iroh shook his head gravely, "I'm afraid that is not my story to tell, but if you'd like, I could expand a bit on the reasons for your betrothal."
"What?!"
Iroh cringed, judging gets by the look on Zuko's face, he had said too much.
It seems the girl was less forthcoming than I had expected...
"Uncle!"
Well, this was certainly an unfortunate turn of events. He was sure Chey would have said something to her, though in hindsight, he could see why she would have chosen to keep such information to herself. Though, it was no matter, there certainly wasn't any coming back from his slip up.
Iroh let his shoulders drop, "do you remember sometime ago, Umara and yourself had gotten into a disagreement while we were on Ember Island. I told you a story in an attempt to help you gain some perspective—"
"Skip the anecdote and get to the part where you tell me what the hell you're talking about—ahem" Zuko's overzealous growl abruptly caught in his throat. "Please."
Iroh sighed and pulled a cushion in front of him. "Perhaps you should sit down, you are not going to like what you are about to hear..."
. . .
Iroh sat obediently, albeit a bit unsettled, beside Azulon as he watched Ursa translate for the unusual, pale looking native man in front of him. He had some knowledge of the Natoyi and their beliefs, but he hadn't expected the Fire Sages to be apprised of such things.
"He says they'll give you the girl, all they ask in exchange is to be left in peace." Ursa reluctantly interpreted the young man's offer. She knew better than to put so much faith In the Fire Lord's word.
Azulon considered for a moment before sharply consulting the elder Fire Sage to their left. "Humph, and you have corroborated these claims, Arak?"
"Yes, your Majesty, we tested her ourselves." Arak replied formally with a short bow.
Ursa's soft voice could be heard repeating what was being said in a throaty, drolling language as the flames cast the quiet room in an ominous light.
"How old?" Azulon questioned curtly, breaking the forbodding silence.
The man seemed a bit vexed by the question, finally giving an answer after some back and forth with Ursa.
"They dont keep time the same way we do, but his best guess is around nine or ten years old." Her voice began to shake with the harsh realization that they were speaking about a child.
"A bit young for Prince Lu Ten, don't you think, Iroh?" Ozai sinisterly interjected, obviously pleased at the revelation.
"I would say so. Not to mention, it may not be wise to put a native woman in a position to become Fire Lady in the future." Iroh raised his eyebrows as he subtly derided his younger brother.
It was a truly horrific situation, but he knew better than to object. He would be of no use to anyone if he got himself banished.
Azulon considered for a moment before addressing Arak once more, "And this will being a new era of prosperity for our country?"
"Yes, your Majesty. It certainly fits the legend. The royal bloodline is most ambitious, it's continuing good fortune would be solidified with the addition of such a creature."
Iroh muffled a scoff. Such texts seldom translated well, but that was most definitely not the narrative. Either the Fire Sages were once again twisting ancient texts to fit their own agenda, or the Natoyi were far more clever than he had thought. He was hardly convinced the Fire Sages were so astute.
"Very well," Azulon began, clapping his hands together. "She'll go to Ozai's son when they are old enough. But the children will know nothing of it, lest the girl become a flight risk. You three are dismissed."
Ursa ushered the lithe native out of the room followed closely by Arak.
"If I may Father, would it not be more impressive should the family to possess something more... unique than a mere savage?" there was venom dripping from Ozai's words as he spoke them. "A native, on its own, is far from anything special, but the last of an ancient race, well, that is quite noteworthy, prestigious even, don't you agree?"
Iroh felt his blood go cold, nothing good was going to come from his brother's implication, that much was certain.
"Say what you mean, Ozai." Azulon snapped impatiently at his theatrics, though he was clearly interested.
In his revulsion, Iroh couldn't stop himself from interjecting.
"You are talking about genocide! There are few who are even aware that the Natoyi still exist, there is no reason to—"
"If that's the case, no one would miss them should they all die tragically of a plague." The dark, predatory smirk that spread across his brother's face nearly made Iroh physically ill. This was even worse than what they had done to the Southern Water Tribe.
Azulon nodded his head thoughtfully, "What do you suggest?"
No!
An evil, prideful look crossed Ozai's face, "Well tell the troops that the representative that was here today tried to assassinate you: that the Natoyi are a terrorist group and the girl was spared as an act of mercy. Should the citizens in Hira'a question anything, we tell them that the Natoyi had contracted a terrible blight and had to be dispatched to protect the general population."
Iroh was useless to object, he sat frozen as he heard his Father agree with Ozai's despicable plot. There was little that could be said: there was no reasoning with someone who found genocide in the name of regality an acceptable strategy.
Oh Spirits, forgive me...