A/N: In case no one understood the title's reference, "Hot Knife" is a song by the brilliant Fiona Apple.
Hot Knife | Chapter II
Gan's sister and her family lived in a mansion of high, white stone walls over which enormous gabled roofs, painted in vibrant hues of scarlet and gold, cast a cool shade. Chai stood at the foot of the marble staircase that led up to the doors of her aunt's home. Although awestruck by the lavish digs, she wasn't entirely surprised. Lan had married into nobility, so it was more or less expected that they lived in the lap of luxury. Still, even with servants' quarters and guest chambers, she couldn't imagine a family of three living in a house that massive. It wasn't as if Chai and her parents lived in a hut; far from it, they inhabited a sizable property with a staff of five servants—though Fai always insisted on performing random chores on her own—and a small courtyard. The warden's family was well above middle-class, but in comparison to this opulent structure, they may as well have been living in a tent made of twigs.
"Come along, Chai," her mother beckoned as she ascended the steps.
She obeyed; her aunt's servants followed closely with their luggage in tow. Today, her attire was blissfully airy. Although her new tunics had been washed into submission as guaranteed, she had forgotten them at home much to the dismay of Fai who bemoaned the silver spent on the clothing.
"What is the point of buying new clothes for you when they never see the light of day?" Fai had scolded her in the carriage on their way to her aunt's home.
Miraculously enough, Chai found herself standing in front of her aunt's mansion with no regrets. Flowing slacks billowed around her sandals—she didn't care for the traditional knee-high boots that curved at the toe—in a curtain of charcoal-colored silk, over which she wore a long blouse. She had, nevertheless, conceded to having part of her hair pulled back into a braided knot.
According to her mother, her aunt had a daughter who happened to be the same age as Chai. "You are both children of the Dragon," her mother had often said with a fond smile. But she had only ever met her cousin when they were both still infants, and she had no memory of the occasion. According to Fai, they both attended the same Academy, but they weren't in the same class. She was understandably curious about her cousin, but she didn't necessarily look forward to their first meeting.
Chai had come to realize that she didn't like mingling with other children her age. By the end of her first week at the Academy, her observations of the girls there had led her to the conclusion that the majority of her peers were a petty bunch of gossips who enjoyed putting others down in order to boost their own self esteem. She had been called various names regarding her weight and skin tone, as well other physical attributes, all in the name of establishing social rank within the Academy. And though the taunting was less than welcome, she had no interest in the catty politics that ruled the Royal Fire Academy for Girls.
She had taken to hanging out in the abandoned garden where she had met the boy who'd claimed to be the crown prince. Since that fateful day, she hadn't seen hide or hair of the bad-tempered boy. Come to think of it, she hadn't seen the girl she'd run into outside the garden either. Although some curiosity lingered, she much preferred the peaceful solitude.
There would be none of that here. She would be expected to behave like a well-bred girl in front of her relatives and get along with her cousin during their two day visit. She envied her father. He got to spend all day yelling at criminals.
Lan was a tall, sophisticated woman with kind yet faintly fretful features. The women greeted each other warmly, and then Fai prompted her to greet her aunt properly. She had shyly obliged, bowing her head as one should before one's elders. After pleasantries had been exchanged, her aunt led them to the courtyard where her own daughter was sitting beneath a tree.
Seated with her back to the trio, the girl was fiddling with an object that glinted in the sunlight. Upon hearing the older women and Chai draw near, she hastily tucked the object into her sleeve. She stood and turned to meet them, which gave Chai a good look at her narrow and very familiar face. She hadn't been surprised by the fancy house, but if a particularly frisky breeze had blown through the courtyard at that moment it would have knocked her off her feet.
Her cousin bent at the waist in a respectful bow. "Welcome to our home, honorable aunt and cousin," she said in perfect monotone, before straightening up and nodding politely to her. There was no indication that she recognized Chai.
Fai smiled. "You're growing up to become a beautiful young lady, Mai."
There was a brief quiet, which was remedied by Fai elbowing her daughter's shoulder and coughing lightly.
"It is an honor to meet you, cousin," Chai said quickly, as she tried to subtly gawk at her cousin.
"Come, Fai," Lan said, looping her arm through the crook of her sister-in-law's elbow. "Let us catch up over tea, while the girls become better acquainted."
Once the adults were out of sight, Mai plopped back onto the ground and returned to playing with the object that was hidden in her sleeve. Chai now identified the object as a silver blade roughly the size and width of a pencil.
She rocked back and forth on her heels, feeling the full weight of the awkward hush that had settled in the space between them. "I've seen you before, right?" she spoke up. "In front of the old garden behind the library. We almost ran into each other."
The blade flipped into the air and spun twice before dropping back down into the other girl's waiting fingers. "You're mistaken."
Chai was undeterred. "I know it was you," she insisted. "I'd recognize those pincushions anywhere." She twisted her hands in the air to demonstrate; it looked as though she were screwing invisible light bulbs into her head.
Apparently this did not merit any reply at all.
She let her arms drop with a sigh and surrendered herself to the grass. If the adults were to return this instant, they would find her sprawled over the ground beside Mai, like a discarded marionette. It would appall Fai. The notion brought a smile to her lips.
She yawned loudly and then stretched her arms up behind her head. "You have a nice house," she said conversationally.
The blade flipped up. It spun. It was caught.
"Knives are your thing, huh? That's cool. I mostly only use them for cutting bread or fruit but they're…you know. Shiny."
Flip. Spin. Catch.
"Have you ever stabbed someone? I guess not, since you'd probably be in prison. But maybe if you did, you'd get off the hook since your father's a noble. And I bet Dad could pull some strings if you ever got caught for stabbing someone. It would probably be better if you only stabbed them a couple of times instead of killing them. Because that would actually be a serious crime, like tax evasion or juggling babies."
Flip. Spin. Catch.
From the corner of her eye she noticed her cousin glance at her. It was a look one might reserve for the developmentally challenged. She took that look as encouragement to continue babbling.
"It was you in front of the garden, wasn't it? You were going to meet up with that boy. Is he really the son of the Fire Lord? I mean, he's kind of the jerk. Your boyfriend, not the Fire Lord. Although I guess that really depends on who you ask. Anyway, aren't boys supposed to have coot—" Her words caught in her throat as the gleam of metal flashed before her face.
/
The two women sat across from each other at a table overlooking the garden. A maidservant poured each of them a steaming cup from a teapot that had a dragon's head for a spout; its enamel scales shimmered indigo and it bared gilded teeth at the teacups. Fai noted its exquisite craftsmanship as her sister-in-law took a delicate sip of the fragrant jasmine tea.
"Tell me, Fai. How is my unruly brother doing as of late? Still a handful, I trust," Lan said knowingly.
She chuckled. "Well, that's a given. Nothing I can't handle, of course."
"You're too good to him," her sister-in-law scolded, but her eyes brimmed with mirth.
"Don't I know it," Fai sighed lightly. "Chai has picked up all his worst traits."
"Chai?" Surprise flickered across Lan's expression. "How is that possible?"
"I know. It's unexpected considering the circumstances of our family." She smiled at the other woman before gazing down at the steam drifting away from her tea. "You should see them together. Lumbering about the house and eating everything in sight, like two bears in a cave. If I didn't witness Gan setting sail for the Boiling Rock after every visit home, I'd swear they were joined at the hip."
"It's strange to think of Gan as a father." Lan's brow wrinkled as she attempted to mentally visualize her brother as a family man. "It seems only yesterday he was rolling around in the mud, wrestling with his silly friends."
"He still does that, except now it's with Chai," Fai said drily. The women shared a quiet laugh.
"Speaking of Chai…have you and Gan told her yet?"
Somberness clouded the warmth in her amber eyes. "No," she said. "We feel it might be best to wait until she's older."
Lan's expression was full of sympathy. "There would appear to be no good time for such matters," she said gently.
"I know it's important for Chai to know the truth, but as selfish as it may seem, I'm worried that she'll start looking at me with different eyes," Fai admitted. "As a woman who found her behind a stable and raised her out of pity or whatever other reason. I'm her mother, Lan."
"Of course you are," Lan assured her. "I'm of the belief that no matter when you decide to tell her the truth, she will always know you and Gan as her parents."
She gazed out at the fiery blooms sprinkled throughout the gardens; Lan was very particular about her flowers. "I wish I shared your confidence," she said before looking back to her sister and friend. "But enough about this. How is your husband?"
Lan smiled ruefully. "I strive to be a supportive wife, but sharing a marriage bed with his political aspirations can be a lonesome affair," she said. "And although Mai was raised to be a dutiful and obedient child, I can see that it wears on her at times."
It was Fai's turn to be the sympathetic ear. "With the war going on, in addition to your husband's duties to the Fire Lord, have the two of you been able to…?"
Lan nodded. "We're still trying for a second, though there's hardly time, as you well know."
"At least your husband isn't away at a godforsaken rock for all save a few days of every month," Fai said wistfully.
"Eito may be around in the flesh, but his mind is always taking off with his career. After a decade, Gan still goes hopelessly over the moon every time he sees you."
Bitterness seeped from the pauses in their conversation, and they floundered for a minute, each woman distracted by her own burdens to bear. Fai was the first to break free.
"Perhaps you'll have a boy, this time."
Lan absently traced a painted nail over the rim of her cup, following the circle again and again. "That would be nice," she murmured. "Yes, perhaps."
/
Mai stared at Chai. Chai stared at the knife that was embedded in the ground just inches from her nose. Mai watched the girl roll onto her side and tug the blade loose before looking up.
"You dropped your knife," Chai said, sitting up and holding out the blade handle-first. She sat there looking at Mai with a stupid expression on her face; though to be fair Mai thought most facial expressions were stupid.
She stood and leaned forward to take the knife from Chai, and then wiped it on her tunic. Instead of returning to her original seat, she walked around the tree until her back was to the other girl before sitting back down. She heard a soft whumph and construed that the girl had flopped back onto the grass. Blessed silence washed over the courtyard.
Of course, it couldn't last.
"Sorry I made fun of your boyfriend, but he did make fun of me first," Chai said. "He called me a stupid, tubby tattletale. I've never tattled in my life! Except for this one time, but it doesn't count. Dad hid Mom's favorite slippers and she was threatening to fire the cook so we'd all starve to death. So, really, I only tattled for the greater good."
Mai rolled her eyes and spun her knife on the tips of her fingers. Does she ever stop talking? Maybe if she pretended to be unaware of the noise monster's existence, it would just magically vanish. Hope springs eternal.
"I probably wouldn't be able to stop you if you really wanted to stab me, but my dad probably wouldn't be too happy about it. It's Mom you really have to watch out for, though. Fair warning: the woman is like a rage dragon if you ever manage to get her ticked off."
She considered stabbing her own eardrums. Being deaf probably wouldn't be so bad; she might even come to like it. It occurred to her that these weren't normal thoughts for a noble's daughter let alone a child of ten years. Her mother would be mortified if she'd spoken the words aloud. The mere thought of it summoned a faint smile to her lips.
Several minutes passed before Chai spoke again. "You're kind of the strong and silent type, huh? I get the appeal." Before she could say any more on the subject, Mai exhaled loudly and got to her feet. She stepped around the tree to look down at the girl who lolled about in the shade. Chai returned her gaze with startling grey-blue eyes; they reminded her of the water in the koi pond when it reflected an overcast sky.
"You talk too much," she said.
Chai grinned up at her before closing her eyes with a slight shrug. "I know, right?"
"You don't even look like them."
"Hm?"
"Your parents. Don't tell me you can actually see the family resemblance."
Another shrug. "Genes skipped a generation."
"Uncle and Aunt Fai brought you with them, when they returned to the Capital from their honeymoon,"—the blade twirled between Mai's fingers—"which means she had to be nine months pregnant when they got married, but she clearly wasn't pregnant at the wedding."
Chai cracked an eye open to look at her cousin. "How do you know all this? You were only a baby."
"Servants like to gossip about old news."
"I never knew you were so well-informed, cousin."
Her fingers ceased their blurred spectacle, with the blade of the knife caught firmly between her thumb and forefinger. "We aren't cousins," she said flatly. The words were devoid of any traces of malicious intent, as though she were only telling the other girl a simple fact.
The other eye opened to join the first, and together they gazed at Mai. A moment of unpredictability passed between the two girls, and fled as a muffled rumble trickled through the stillness.
Chai sprang to her feet with all the grace of a well-fed housecat. It was apparently feeding time, as indicated by the way she sadly poked at her stomach. "I'm going to go see if it's time for supper," she announced. "I'll probably get lost. Wish me luck, cousin!"
Mai had neither the time nor inclination to correct her; the girl had already bounded off through a row of hedges. True to her prophecy, she had wandered off in the exact opposite direction of where their mothers had gone. If the odds were in Mai's favor, she wouldn't find her way back to the courtyard anytime soon.
She felt no remorse regarding what she had told Chai. It was, after all, the truth. If feelings were hurt in the process, it was none of her concern. She leaned back against the tree and slid down to a seated position with a sigh of contentment. Mission accomplished.
/
Later that night, Fai had her daughter sit down in front of the vanity in their guest chamber in order to brush out the hair that had been constricted in a knot all day. Lan would have gladly prepared separate rooms for their stay, but Fai had dissuaded her.
Chai squinted at her reflection in the mirror. Her usually wavy hair had been molded into a mass of curls by the tight braid. "Why do you have to brush my hair? It's not like we're going somewhere."
"It's so you don't wake up with your hair tangled into one giant knot. If that happened, we'd have to hack it all off," she teased.
"That might not be so bad, actually," Chai said.
Fai frowned. "But you love your long hair."
The girl giggled. "I know. So, do I get my hair color from you or Dad?"
Her hand stilled for a second, and then resumed pulling the brush through the dark sorrel mane. "I'm not entirely sure," she said, trying to maintain a neutral tone. "Maybe it skipped a generation."
Chai nodded. "Yeah, I thought so. That's what I told Mai."
Dread settled over Fai's shoulders in an icy blanket. "Did she ask you about your hair?"
"Not exactly, she just said I don't look like either of you," she replied.
"Oh, well," Fai attacked a particularly stubborn knot with the brush, "not all children resemble their parents, Chai."
"That's true. Then she told me that I was born on your honeymoon or someth—ow! Mom, stop!" Her hand shot up to grab the hairbrush.
Fai dropped the brush upon realizing that the knot had come undone a while ago, and the bristles had started digging too roughly into Chai's scalp. "I'm sorry, dear," she exclaimed, and frantically smoothed her fingertips over her daughter's small head to assuage the hurt.
A knock came at the door, accompanied by a servant who had come to inform the pair that a hot bath had been drawn, should they wish to take one. After the servant was dismissed, she told Chai to go ahead and get in the bath first, she would soon follow. Once she was alone in the room, she went to the door to get the attention of one of the other servants. The maidservant who received her request hastened off down the candlelit corridor, and Fai went to the writing desk in order to draft a letter.
A messenger hawk took flight from the mansion that night, cutting through the soft moonlight with heavy purpose.
/
Yet Another A/N:
See, Mai and Chai aren't so different (aside from pretty much being polar opposites). They both like to exasperate their mothers. That's something.
If there was any confusion at all, Chai is pronounced [CHY] not [CHAY], and Fai is pronounced [FY].
Gan's lovely sister Lan (huzzah, rhyming!) and her husband Eito, everybody! I'm giving out names all over the place.
Thanks to sunflower13, blahblahmarroki, and Rumpologist (my ailuromantic creeper soulmate) for the reviews.