Deep Ravine
Chapter 3: Desolation
She could hear them talking, Iroh and Zuko. The words were muffled but Mai knew their conversation was about her. They had tiptoed around her 'condition' using phrases like 'out of sorts', 'not like herself', 'not what I expected'. They were 'worried', 'upset', 'concerned' and felt 'helpless'. The new mother supposed her unwillingness to discuss what she was feeling contributed to that helplessness. She was close mouthed and trapped in her own world of misery. Right now, Mai could not put words to her pain. Somehow a curtain of darkness had been drawn over her life, her mind, her spirit, her body too, and she could not pull it open to reveal the light. She could not do it, no matter how hard she tried. And the effort sapped her dry, like desert sand sucking down any moisture, greedy, hungry.
Mai wondered what was worse; suffering through whatever had taken hold of her or watching someone else do the suffering. Zuko had been hurt before, badly. During the early years of his leadership, several attempts were made on his life. Most were deflected, but two almost did the job. One, a poisoning, had been particularly painful and close and Mai recalled being beside herself with worry and terror. Zuko had writhed and twisted about in the bed, his body drenched, his breathing a horror, stopping completely a few times. Somehow, Zuko liked to say it was because Mai sat by his side, holding his hand, whispering words of love and encouragement, he made it through. The toll on his body had been great and it took weeks to recover. The memory of that time was potent still and she shivered recalling it. Mai wondered if Zuko felt now as she had then, consumed by worry, eaten up inside by anxiety.
If he did, she sympathized. But none of that helped her now either.
The door opened then, the one separating Zuko's office from the rest of the suite of rooms. The Fire Lord approached Mai, trying his best, she could see, to keep all expression from his face. But that was Mai's territory, not Zuko's, and bits of stress poked through, then more and finally, he gave up. He stopped beside Miyako's bassinet, trying to calm the infant who had begun to cry earlier. His voice alone didn't work so he picked her up and rocked her back and forth in his arms.
"Mai, um, Iroh and I were talking and….."
She pressed her lips together tight and waited for whatever fate might befall her.
"We think the palace physician should examine you. Are you all right with that?"
"It can't hurt, Mai," Iroh added softly. He padded over to her chair and patted Mai's arm. "Something is going on with you. We just want to help."
Anger flashed through her, hot and quick. "Don't talk about me behind closed doors like I'm crazy or something." She shrugged off Iroh's hand. "And don't touch me."
Iroh flinched. Miyako began to wail.
"Make her stop," she pleaded then, covering her ears.
Zuko rocked the baby harder, his gaze darting back and forth between her and Mai. She quieted, content again in her father's arms and Mai felt jealousy needle her brain.
He can comfort Miyako. He wants to. I just want the noise to go away. She'll love him better. She'll hate me. She'll hate her mother and I'm too tired to do anything about it.
"Mai, we don't think you're crazy. But we are worried sick about you. And we want to help. Let the physician see you. It's a place to start."
She saw the sense in Iroh's words. Finally, she gave a curt nod. "Bring Miya to me. She must be hungry."
"Are you sure?" the Fire Lord asked.
"Well, who else is going to feed her? Or have you hired a wet nurse behind my back too?"
"No, no, it's just, you seem…" He left the rest unsaid, words failing him as they so often did. Giving Miyako's forehead a kiss first, Zuko put the infant in Mai's arms. "There."
"I'll go rustle up Mr. Kita. Would this afternoon be all right, Mai?"
She shrugged, busy already with the business of feeding her daughter. "Whatever." She knew he would find nothing. Mai knew that whatever ailed her was invisible, sneaky and had burrowed its way into her heart and mind and spirit, tainting them.
Iroh left and Mai and Zuko were alone except for their daughter. Neither was certain what to say. But that was nothing new. Their best communication had never been through words, but through touch rather, looks and gestures. Zuko walked around Mai and stood to her right and slightly behind. Putting one hand on her shoulder, no pressure, a soft touch, he stared down at Miyako, watched her nursing, and smiled. Mai felt not only the touch, but the support behind it, the solidarity, the love. He would stick with her through this dark time, no matter what, no matter how much darker it got.
~~~~0000~~~~
As promised, Doctor Kita arrived promptly after a lunch that Mai picked at with distaste. The savory vegetable dish was one of her favorites, but today she could not stomach the smell or the taste.
"They can make you something else, Mai. Do you want me….." Zuko pleaded with his eyes.
"No," she interrupted. "I can get a snack later if I'm hungry." She wouldn't be.
The nurse had Miyako. They'd gone out into the garden for some fresh air and sunshine. She would lay the baby out on a blanket and let her see what she could see, feel the wind in her hair, on her tender skin.
It's better than being here with me, the way I am now.
"You should eat," the physician declared as he made his way over to Mai, Zuko hovering close behind.
Kita was an efficient man, prone to a disregard of females. Perhaps it wasn't disregard so much as a lack of understanding. Whatever the case, his tone was condescending and Mai found herself grinding her teeth and resisting the urge to slap him. She made a mental note to see about getting a new, more modern physician for the palace, someone who hadn't been around since the dawn of time. Of course, he had experience, if nothing else. Maybe she'd best hear what he had to say first.
"What symptoms are you experiencing, Lady Mai?"
He picked up her hand, letting it dangle from his grip, one finger on the pulse that throbbed in her wrist.
"I'm tired," she said. Her voice held no sarcasm, no bite. It sounded weary and dead. "I have a lot of headaches. Sometimes it's hard to breathe and my chest aches. Mostly I can't sleep, but that's all I want to do." She wished to say that an overwhelming sadness held her in its grip, that most of the time, she wanted nothing to do with her child, that she was listless and felt as though she were fighting her way through a veil of gauzy fabric that limited the acuity of her senses. Mai held back. She would say none of those things. Then she caught Zuko's eye and felt almost ashamed. She'd told him nothing of what she'd mentioned to the doctor, only spoke of feeling exhausted. He blinked rapidly and tilted his head, examining his wife, trying to make sense of her secrecy. Mai looked away, down at her lap.
"Sit up straight please, away from the pillows, and put your back to me." Mai did as she was told. Kita placed his ear against her back and directed her to take several slow, deep breaths. "Your breathing sounds fine. Now I want to listen to your heart." Mai turned about again, and faced the doctor. He listened carefully, shaking his head. "Everything sounds good." She waited for him to say that it was all her imagination, some hysterical female reaction to giving birth. Luckily for him, he did not. Zuko would not have stood for that. And Mai, even with her lack of energy, would have found some way to put the man in his place.
"Everything sounds good," Zuko repeated. "Then what's wrong with my wife? There's something wrong." He moved forward and took Mai's hand. "She's in agony. Can't you see that?"
"I see a woman who needs sleep and good food and perhaps a bit of time every day for herself, time for a walk or a long bath or to read. Make sure she gets those things and I'm certain you'll see improvement. I can have a sleeping powder made up. It will knock you out, my lady. You will sleep."
"No; I don't want any powders." So much was out of her control. She would not permit her body some falsely induced slumber. The idea frightened her, especially now.
"Ah, then perhaps General Iroh can recommend a tea that might help you sleep a bit better. And please make sure to eat. You're feeding the baby as well, remember."
Guilt made the woman flush. And Mai was certain that was Kita's intention, to make her feel guilty, maybe snap her out of whatever funk he figured she might be in. But it would not be that easy.
"I'll eat," she stated.
Mai was relieved when Kita left their rooms and went back to his office, the Fire Lord accompanying him as far as the door. She beckoned Zuko closer and he came, hand outstretched. Mai took it. His face bore a relieved look, but he was scared too. Mai could see it in the way he held himself. Physically she was fine. What did that leave?
"I'll go to the kitchen and make you up a tray, all right…nothing spicy. And tea, I'll make tea."
He needed to be doing something, anything to help, so Mai nodded and she would eat what he brought and drink the tea and hope that something inside might change.
~~~~0000~~~~
She did feel better for eating, physically better, and decided to find Miyako and the nurse in the gardens. Zuko joined Mai, his arm linked through hers, silent, watchful, ready to jump in and rescue his wife. His need to protect was palpable.
As they approached the middle aged woman sitting on the bench, two week old Miyako on her lap, Mai stopped abruptly. Zuko looked at her, a slew of questions in his eyes. She shrugged and chewed on her lower lip.
"Miyako looks happy. Maybe I should just….."
"Mai, she's your daughter, our daughter; no one can love her like we do." He stepped in front of Mai, put one hand on each of her shoulders and stared deep into her eyes. "You're a good mother. Whatever you're going through does not diminish that truth."
"I don't feel like a good mother. Sometime I just wish she would disappear. How terrible is that? What mother feels that for her newborn daughter? What's happened to me?" Mai's lip quivered and she bit down on it again. Tears pooled in her eyes. She squeezed them shut and forced the moisture back.
No answer was forthcoming. Mai knew that. All Zuko could do was take her in his arms, hold her as tight as he dared, let all his love seep from him into her.
"Let's get Miyako," the Fire Lord suggested when he finally broke the embrace. "She needs her mother and father."
The nurse chatted about what a sweet baby Miyako was, every sneeze, gurgle and burp. She handed Miyako to Mai, giving the younger woman a warm smile and a lingering look. Mai wondered if she was imagining things, but the nurse seemed to sense her unease, her sorrow, her confusion. Was she telegraphing her emotions for once in her life or was the nurse just more intuitive than most? Mai hoped the latter option was true.
"It gets better," the nurse whispered. "You just have to tough it out." She made to leave but thought better of it. "And please, ask for help if you need it." Gesturing at Zuko, she added, "You have lots of support, maybe more than you think."
Mai lifted her thin eyebrows, taken aback by the woman's brazenness. She said nothing but nodded an acknowledgment of the words.
"What did she say?" Zuko asked when the nurse as out of sight.
"Nothing really," Mai shrugged, dismissing the question.
But the nurse's words remained with her for the rest of the day and they gave her hope.
~~~~0000~~~~
Iroh put down the tray with a flourish before plopping on to a chair across from Mai and Zuko.
"Tea made from valerian root; it promotes sleep, helps the body relax. You're both going to have a cup and head off to bed." His look dared them to disobey.
"I'll try anything but one of Kita's drugs." Mai poured a cup for Zuko and herself. "Don't you want any, Iroh?"
"I sleep like the dead without tea," he chuckled. "Now drink up." He supervised, like they were little children, a smirk on his face. "Good, good; now I'll leave you to it." Iroh took Mai's hand in both of his. "I'm here to help in any way that I can. Don't forget that."
"I won't."
It seemed there was help to be had, kindness in abundance, but would any of that be enough?
~~~~0000~~~~~
A/N: I want to thank 'William' and 'Emily', both anon reviewers, for their exceedingly kind and encouraging words.