Equivalent Exchange

Chapter Twelve: Stationary

Fire Nation capitol: Mai's house, a few days later

Mai's mother, Masami, sat rigidly on a hard backed chair, her hands folded neatly across her abdomen. She was three months pregnant and her daughter Mai, barely thirteen years old was dead. Fire Lord Ozai had not deigned to deliver the news personally to them. He sent word through official letter, delivered by a servant. His son was dead as well along with his brother. They were traitors all of them and now Masami's house, her reputation her dignity were all tainted. Why hadn't Mai thought of that before she ran away with the banished prince of the Fire Nation? Why hadn't her daughter ever considered her feelings?

"Masami," her husband, Sen, stated as he entered the sitting room. "Why don't you sit somewhere more comfortable?"

"Why should I?" she asked. "Nothing will ever be comfortable again."

Sen looked at his wife's stricken face and marveled that her despair was not over the actual loss of their daughter but the black mark against their name.

"Everything will be fine," he said in vaguely comforting tones.

The nobleman pulled up a chair and sat across from his wife, taking her cold hands in his.

"Masami, I haven't seen you cry. Aren't you going to cry for our girl?"

"I'm angry at her," the woman replied, yanking her hands out of her husband's grasp. "Besides, I considered her gone once she got on that ship and left the Fire Nation."

She smoothed out the folds of her silk robe and patted her long brown hair, then folded her hands across her stomach again.

"She was in love," Sen stated simply. "I've heard it can do strange things to people."

"Love," Masami sneered. "She went against everything we taught her, everything we stand for."

The woman referred to not just herself and Sen, but their nation as well.

"I suppose she did," Sen sighed. "But she was our daughter nonetheless and she was a good girl, just a bit contrary sometimes."

"How can you not be uspet?" Masami yelled, her face suddenly infused with a bright, angry red. "She's ruined us."

"Nonsense," Sen said and patted her hands. "The Fire Lord's own son and brother died too. He isn't ruined."

"He runs the country. He can make things look any way he wants them to. We can't do that. Everyone will know. Everyone will find out. Just you wait. I tried to keep her running away a secret, but everyone had to keep digging and probing and picking. 'Where's Mai?' 'I haven't seen Mai for the longest time.' 'Is Mai sick?' 'Did you send her away to school?' What could I say?"

"It doesn't matter anymore," her husband replied. "She's gone for good. But we have this one to focus on now."

He pointed to Masami's stomach and smiled weakly. She looked down and smiled as well.

"I hope he doesn't disappoint us too?" she sighed.

Sen said nothing. He got out of his chair and walked upstairs to Mai's room. Sitting down on the edge of her bed, he let his head drop down between his knees and wept.

Same day, Fire Nation Palace

"Can you really trust Zhao?" Azula asked her father, Fire Lord Ozai. "Can we be sure that Zuko and Mai and Uncle Tea Maker are dead?"

Father and daughter, Fire Lord and Princess, sat in the dining room awaiting the second course of their dinner. Ozai sipped slowly at a bitter local wine that he particularly enjoyed, then placed the glass very carefully down on the blood red tablecloth.

"I'm growing weary of your questions, Azula," the Fire Lord replied. He looked at her severely with eyes of burnished gold. "You saw the man's letter. Your brother's ship exploded into many tiny pieces. No one could survive that, certainly not your incompetent and unlucky brother."

"I just don't want them to come back and ruin things. Zuko has a way of doing that," the firebending prodigy stated. "Everything's perfect now. I even found a new girl at school."

"Really?" Ozai asked. One eyebrow rose questioningly. "And what is this girl like?"

"She's quite a bit like me; well she's not nearly as gifted, of course. But she's an excellent replacement for that traitor Mai. I can't wait until the three of us can actually use our skills."

"I've told you countless times that when I feel you're ready and a special mission comes up, I will send you and your two friends."

"Ty Lee's been acting a bit down the last few days. Do you think she actually cared about Mai? I hope she doesn't run away too."

"Pretend to be nice for once, daughter. I used to do that with your mother. You'd be surprised what people are willing to believe. One word or act of kindness, whether sincere or not, seems to wipe out everything else. Ty Lee will be putty in your hands."

"I'm not sure how to do that?" the twelve year old frowned. "Can't I just order her to stay or vow allegiance to me?"

Ozai shook his head.

"Say something complimentary about her acrobatics or her clothing. That should make her happy. You're certainly good at lying; now that's a skill that will serve you well."

"I'll do it tomorrow," Azula agreed. "By the time I'm finished, she won't even think about leaving me."

"Excellent," Ozai grinned cruelly. "You're coming along very well."

Zhao's ship, five days later

Tanaka, Zhao's second in command, knocked on his leader's office door and waited.

"What is it?" Zhao growled impatiently.

"It's me, sir, Tanaka. A hawk just arrived for you."

"Well, what are you waiting for then? Get in here and give it to me."

Tanaka shrugged and opened the door. Maps of the Earth Kingdom were spread haphazardly across the broad desk and Zhao's face looked pinched and weary. Since Zuko's death, life seemed to have taken on a grey pallor. Make no mistake; Zhao was glad the traitorous, useless little bastard was dead along with his doddering uncle and that lovely girl. But the chase, brief as it was, had been exciting. Choosing an Earth Kingdom town to overtake wasn't an adequate substitute.

"Sir," Tanaka said briskly and handed his commander the tube containing the correspondence.

Zhao snatched it rudely and popped open the one end, turning it over to let the letter slide out and onto the desk. He unrolled it eagerly and read. Zhao smiled and then laughed, the sound echoing in the metal room.

"Good news I take it, sir?"

"You can call me Commander Zhao now," the man replied, stroking his huge sideburns fondly. "Just as I hoped, Ozai has given me a promotion."

"Congratulations Commander," Tanaka said heartily.

"Bring me some fire whiskey, Tanaka, and two glasses. A celebration is in order."

Bumi's Palace, two days later

Zuko slumped in his chair and reached for the glass of cold water that sat on the table next to him. He had just finished a grueling training session with both Iroh and Jee and was completely and utterly exhausted. Neither had shown any mercy or restraint; they pelted him with fire balls, surrounded him with fire whips and forced him to go through a series of elementary katas so often that Zuko's body had begun to perform them without any conscious thought on his part.

"It's like basic training for the military but worse," he griped to Mai who sat in a chair across from him.

"Yeah, yeah," she replied. "Do you think I've got it easy? Bumi's got targets and dummies set up everywhere for me in that room off the stadium. I threw for five hours without a break. I think my arm might fall off."

The four had been in Omashu for more than a week already and those nine days were spent training, sleeping and eating. All conversation seemed to center around the Order of the White Lotus and its members, where they lived, what they did and if they could help. Bumi had letters sent, putting out feelers about certain Fire nation citizens and their situation.

The rudimentary plan for the next few months of their lives was this; stay with Bumi until the end of winter, another four months almost and then head back in the direction they had come from to stay with another White Lotus member. So, training would be their lives; that along with whatever bizarre activities Bumi's eccentric mind came up with.

"Sorry," Zuko said automatically.

"What are you sorry for?" Mai snapped. "You always say that."

"Sorry," he said again before he could bite his tongue.

"Why do you feel so guilty?" she asked.

"Do you really need to ask me that?" the prince retorted.

"No, I guess not," Mai sighed. "I can list all the reasons that make sense in your head."

"What's that supposed to mean? You make it sound like I'm crazy or something," Zuko shouted.

"Don't yell at me," Mai said in a low deadly tone, honed sharp like all of her knives.

"Fine," Zuko said, throwing his hands up in the air.

He got up from the chair and stomped out of the room without a backward glance. He felt terrible even before he had rounded a corner and bumped into his uncle.

"Where are you off to?" the old man asked pleasantly. "Break time is almost over."

"I'm going to my room," the prince snapped and continued down the hallway.

"Hmm," Iroh mused as he stroked his beard. "Do I really want to know what that's all about?"

When he found a stone faced Mai in the sitting room, his curiosity was answered regardless of his wishes.

"My nephew appeared upset," Iroh said with typical understatement.

Mai shrugged and looked down at her fingernails. They needed the attention of a manicurist but that was out of the question. Bumi certainly didn't employ one and they had no money to waste on frivolities any more. Perhaps she would search the city for a good nail file. It couldn't be that difficult to find one. She looked up again, shaking her head and wondering at the train of her thoughts.

"A lover's tiff?" he inquired.

"Sure," Mai replied. "He's just so…."

"Zuko can be difficult. He's an emotional young man with a temper. He feels everything very acutely, Mai; that includes his love for you."

Mai flushed and looked down once again.

"I get that," she said. "Sometimes he just irritates me."

"Relationships are difficult things, my dear. While they can bring us great joy, they can also bring us conflict and misery. Try to make sure the good outweighs the bad and you'll be fine. Relationships are a lot like making tea, actually."

Mai groaned quietly and dropped her head not so subtly into her hands.

"Yes, you need to begin slowly, heating the pot with warm water, not hot. You don't want to do things too quickly or too intensely right away. Then you add the tea leaves. After that, you pour hot water, but not too hot over the leaves and let everything steep. That is like getting to know your lover, slowly and carefully, learning all the important things about that person. And when the tea is steeped, you pour it into your favorite cup. See, that is when you can enjoy your relationship most. You can sip away at each other, enjoying the full, robust flavor of your partner."

"That's quite an analogy," Mai replied, trying desperately to stop the giggle that threatened to burst from her mouth.

"Tea is for much more than drinking, Mai. I hope that helped. Now," he said heaving himself up from the sofa he had been sitting on, "I have a craving for some robust oolong. I will see you later at dinner."

Mai got up a few minutes later and went in search of Zuko.

The door to Zuko's room was open just a crack and Mai peeked inside. Bumi had removed the guards a few days ago, convinced that their group meant no harm. The prince was curled up into a tight ball on his bed, looking like a coiled spring ready to unleash itself. She entered without knocking and sat down on the bed, somewhere near his feet.

"What are we doing here, Mai?" he finally asked.

He sounded lost and confused. Mai reached out and placed a hand on his thigh, enjoying the contact, feeling his heat seeping outward from his skin, past the fabric of his pants and into the flesh of her hand.

"Surviving, I guess," she replied.

"My uncle, he's training me like I'm some sort of, I don't know, last resort or savior," Zuko continued as if he hadn't heard Mai's response. "I'm supposed to fight my own people, my own family. I don't know if I can do it."

"They haven't been much of a family," Mai stated and tightened her hold on Zuko's leg. "They've given you no reason to be loyal. Just look at your face."

"Maybe he really was just trying to teach me a lesson," Zuko reasoned. "Maybe I deserved it; maybe I deserve it all."

"Do you really believe that?" Mai asked.

"I'm not sure about anything anymore, Mai. It wasn't supposed to be this way."

"Why are you questioning everything now? You seemed okay with things a few days ago. We fought the Rough Rhinos. We've made plans. Why now, Zuko?"

"I, I don't know. It's just, he's my father. He's supposed to love me. Maybe if I just…"

Mai got angry then, truly angry. Her fingers grasped the cloth of Zuko's pants and held them in a death grip. Her entire body went rigid and her raspy voice was colder than the winds that blew fiercely across the mountains, bringing snow to Omashu.

"Yes, he is," she acknowledged. "But he doesn't, Zuko. You can't hold onto that, not that. He sent Zhao after you with permission to kill. He doesn't love you. He just wants you gone, like you were some mistake he can erase. You should hate him. I do."

Zuko sat up and looked at Mai with something akin to shock.

"Yeah, I know," Mai said dryly, looking away from his piercing gaze. "I don't usually say much, and I don't usually get emotional about things. But this, this thing you have with your father is different. Let it go, Zuko. There's only one way back home for you and for all of us."

"I know," Zuko sighed.

He scrubbed at his face with the heels of his hands and then looked at Mai again. She'd changed in the last eight months, opened up. Where once she was shut down tightly, only occasionally expressing herself with Zuko, now she was looser, freer somehow. There was an opening where before there had been none. Zuko liked it. He liked it a lot.

"You can stop staring anytime," she sniped and gave him a swat. "Did I grow an extra head or something?"

"Or something," he replied. "Thanks, Mai."

"Sure," she said and got up to leave.

"Wait," Zuko demanded and tugged her downward and in towards him, placing a soft kiss on her lips.

She kissed back. It was slow and sweet and she didn't want it to end. But Mai pulled away regardless.

"Time for me to go," she whispered and ignored his moans of protest.

Days and weeks passed in a haze of sameness; every day was a repeat of the last, except for what was served for dinner. Zuko's and Mai's skills grew sharper every day, though, and their bond grew even stronger. But being stuck in the palace was beginning to take its toll and even good humored and sometimes oblivious King Bumi noticed that especially Mai and Zuko were getting antsy.

"There's a festival coming up in a few days," he mentioned at dinner one night. "You young people should go."

"A festival," Zuko repeated. "What kind?"

"It celebrates the Winter Solstice and it's a lot of fun. I think you need to get out of the palace but you need to use caution."

"Outside; what a novel idea," Mai stated dryly.

"That sounds wonderful, Bumi," Iroh interjected, giving both young people a stern look. "I'm sure that Mai and Zuko will be glad to go."

"Good, good," Bumi cackled. "How about we have some special new outfits made for you?"

"NO!" both Mai and Zuko shouted simultaneously.

That very evening, Bumi was wearing robes of the most garish orange and purple and some ridiculous hat with polka dots of all things.

"I mean," Mai continued. "The clothes we have are fine. We'll blend in better anyway."

"I see you're much more than a pretty face," Bumi replied, nodding at Mai, his crazy eye rolling of its own accord, seeming to look everywhere at once.

She glanced over at Zuko but he had his head down, looking at his stew as if it were the most interesting thing in the entire world. Mai could see the corners of his mouth twitching, though. Later, in Mai's room, sharing a pot of tea together, they laughed.

Bumi did provide them each with thick green cloaks to keep out the worst of the cold when the festival began three days later. They left through a side door in the palace, looking around cautiously before entering the street proper and beginning a slow, languorous walk through the bustling city.

It was a treat just to move with no real purpose, no one shouting about form or accuracy or power or precision. Zuko caught Mai's hand and laced his fingers with hers. She felt cold. He concentrated for a moment and then sent a tendril of heat through his fingers and into hers, letting it travel to her hand and through the rest of her body.

"Thanks," she whispered and leaned her head briefly on his shoulder.

The winding streets and paths were lined with garlands of green and brown and little lanterns were strung up everywhere in no apparent pattern, just hanging haphazardly from balconies and roofs, giving a cheerful glow to the deep darkness and penetrating cold. They bought festival food (they had each brought a small amount of money to spend) and watched amateurish along with more skilled performances, from short plays, to music, to comedic routines. No one paid them any attention. They kept their hoods up and their talk low.

After a few hours of walking they found a private alcove down a small side street. It seemed to be part of a public green space of some kind so they sat on the wooden bench and looked out at the twinkling lights of the city.

"It almost looks pretty," Mai remarked and snuggled in closer to Zuko.

Her breath rolled out white and moist. Zuko sneaked an arm around her waist and pulled her in even closer, so that there was no barrier between them but clothes. He leaned his head down and rested it gently on hers, inhaling the scent of her hair.

"This is…nice," he said.

"It is," Mai agreed.

"Do we have to go?" the prince asked.

"Um, yeah, we do," she replied. "It's getting late."

With a huge, drawn out sigh, Zuko unwrapped himself from Mai and stood up. He reached out his hand and she took it, standing up herself. They walked back to the palace in easy silence, watching the citizens of Omashu head home in laughing, happy groups. Through both their minds floated the image of the Fire Nation destroying the happiness here, draping their flags and turning the green city red.

A/N: I hope everyone continues to enjoy the story because I'm having a blast writing it.

Alabaster