Chapter Three
Smellerbee watched through the shop window as Jet picked a straw from a hay wagon and proceeded to chew on it vigorously. That could mean only one thing—he was happy. She was glad to see that. Jet didn't chew straws very often.
"Longshot," she called toward the back of the leather shop she ran with Longshot, her husband and longtime partner in crime, then in business. He looked up from the set of reins he was stamping with a decorative die, his expressive brown eyes meeting hers.
"Jet's back," she explained. "I think he must have gotten the job."
Longshot nodded, then put the reins away, turning instead to pull out a leather scabbard, plain, yet sturdy, suitable for a mercenary—suitable for Jet.
Smellerbee looked up again as Jet tossed the straw aside onto the ground and entered the shop, a little smile on his face. Years after her girlhood crush on him had given way to a more reasonable appreciation of him—his strengths and his shortcomings—he still had a little hold on her heart. Watching him cross the floor, she was reminded of a striped panther—grace and power, litheness and strength, all in one beautiful, yet merciless package.
Longshot came to stand at her side and she slipped one arm around his waist, enjoying the comfort and peace he brought her with his presence alone. Jet was something—he always had been—but playing with fire can burn you as fast as warm you, and Smellerbee was through being burned. Longshot's steady warmth was more than enough for her.
Jet waltzed up to the plain wooden counter, dust filtering through the air to float down the sunbeams that shone through the front window. The little shop smelled like leather and wood shavings. He found it very comforting. The wooden floors creaked a little beneath the heels of his boots.
"Hey, guys," he greeted them casually as he leaned against a large crate of bone fittings and exotic leathers from the Southern Water Tribe. "Have you had a chance to work on that scabbard of mine?"
Without a word, Longshot held out the new scabbard for Jet's approval.
"The old one was just too worn to repair, huh?" Jet surmised from the resigned look on his friend's face. Longshot hated to throw anything away—too many years of hardship in his youth, he guessed. He took the plain scabbard, noting the sturdiness of the construction.
At first glance, the scabbard was unexceptional, not worth a second look—just like Jet preferred. But under closer examination, he could see the tiny subtle details of craftsmanship that showed the work of an artist to anyone who bothered to take time to study the piece. Everything from delicate, almost invisible scrollwork stamped into the metal reinforcement to the beautiful patina of the leather itself showed that Longshot took his work seriously.
It was beautiful and the perfect companion to the sword it would carry. Jet unbuckled his swordbelt and slipped his sword from its temporary sheath, the metal shining darkly in the sunlight. He removed the sheath from the belt and replaced it with the new one, then slipped the sword into place at his hip. It fit perfectly—as he knew it would.
The dagger at his other side served as a bright companion to the sword's understated darkness. He'd liberated it from a bandit several years ago. It was beautiful--bright silver with scarlet leather wrapped around the hilt. The hilt held a brilliant gold crystal that caught the sunlight—sometimes so much he had to smear mud across it when he didn't wish to be seen. It was a dagger fit for a prince, but Jet carried it just the same.
He tightened the sword belt around his hips, then patted the hilt of his sword, taking comfort in its strength and straighforwardness. Sometimes he missed the old twin hooks of his youth for their uniqueness and their versatility, but they had been lost beneath the waters of Lake Laogai on the day he nearly died. Something else of his had been lost as well that day—his youth and an innocence he hadn't even realized he still had. At any rate, the weapons he bore now suited him in a dark, uncompromising way.
"So did you get the job?" Smellerbee asked from his side.
He looked down at her upturned freckled face. Her hands were splotched with dyes of various colors from where she'd been staining lengths of leather for different projects. Trust Smellerbee to get right to the point.
"Yes, I did," he replied. "I don't suppose either of you want to head out to Ba Sing Se on an escort trip?" He knew without asking that they would turn him down. Both of his old friends had given up that life years ago, turning their talents and energies to creative endeavors instead. Despite their youth, they'd managed to build a thriving business in the leather shop. Sometimes he envied them.
Sure enough, Longshot smiled in that easy way he had, leaving Smellerbee to answer for them both. "Sorry, too many orders. Maybe next time," she replied. All three of them knew next time would be no different. He always asked; they always turned him down. Truthfully, he didn't want them to risk their necks for him again. He was in their debt enough already.
Instead, he gave them a shrug and a smile of his own. "So I guess I'll be enlisting my favorite redneck on this trip," he continued. "We'll need a couple of treegecko saddles if you can round them up."
Longshot looked up at him in surprise and accusation. "Yes, I'm taking Bo and we're going the swamp route," Jet explained patiently. At Longshot's continued glare of disapproval, he said, "It's a simple one person escort. The swamp route is shorter by two thirds and completely free of bandits. Besides, Bo is a great guide and very capable in a fight. We'll be perfectly safe."
Longshot turned away to exchange a look at Smellerbee. After a moment of soundless communication with her husband, she then gave Jet a little nod of approval and asked, "Who's the passenger?"
"Some kid—the little brother of the Fire Nation representative," Jet explained as he pushed away from the counter and prepared to leave.
"Lady Mai's brother?" Smellerbee asked in disbelief. "A spoiled kid like that won't do too good roughing it in the swamp. Are you sure you want to go that way?"
"Sure, I'm sure," Jet replied easily, giving her one of those devastatingly charming grins he was so capable of. "It'll be good for him." He strolled to the door. "We'll be back in a couple of days." At Longshot's look of disbelief and disapproval, Jet added, "Trust me," then gave them both an easy wink.
The door swung shut behind him with a little jingle of the bell. "I hope he knows what he's doing," Smellerbee sighed.
"Don't worry about Jet. He always manages," Longshot replied in resignation, pulling her into his chest and giving her a kiss on her hair. Then he added, "Somehow."
The subject of Tom-Tom's travel to Omashu came up again over dinner at Mai's apartment. Zuko and Toph had arrived with Aang that morning, a little weary from their long overnight journey. At first both were a little nervous that their first night in Omashu would place them directly in the path of a possibly awkward reunion. However, Katara and Suki had gone out of their way to reassure both of them that Mai was looking forward to renewing old acquaintances.
Sure enough, she greeted them both with a very welcoming bow, both as her Crown Prince and Princess and as old friends. Within moments, they were all chatting amiably about recent developments in the Fire Nation, Fire Lord Iroh's health, and many more topics of general interest, including the fact that her little brother was coming to visit.
In particular, Mai went out of her way to make Toph feel comfortable, apologizing for her absence at the wedding and asking several questions about the festivities. Soon they were comparing notes on the best places to shop in the Fire Nation capital. Zuko was happy and mystified all at the same time.
He looked around the room at the gathering, noting the way Sokka and Aang kept careful eyes on their children. Mai's apartment was very simply furnished, but those simple furnishings all appeared to be very delicate and very expensive. He glanced over to where Toph sat on a low golden sofa next to Katara. She seemed so happy to be there with the group. He felt a pang of guilt that his responsibilities at home kept them from being able to travel and visit more often.
Suddenly, Sokka called out in a sharp voice to little Toma, who was proceeding to empty a porcelain bowl of nuts onto the floor. The little boy looked up at him with an expression so innocent that Zuko couldn't help but laugh.
"Laugh it up now while you can," Sokka grumbled. "I can't wait to see your reaction when little Zuko Junior sets the palace curtains on fire."
"Or decides to open all of his Uncle Iroh's favorite tea packets and mix them together," Aang suggested with a laugh of his own.
Zuko groaned at that one because it sounded uncomfortably close to one of his own childhood escapades. "I actually did that once," he admitted. "I wanted to make Uncle a new blend of his own. I never saw him so angry, yet so delighted at the same time. He truly thought I was interested in tea for a few minutes there."
"And how about the curtains?" Sokka asked with a grin as he encouraged Toma to clean up the mess of nuts from the floor.
"Actually, Azula was the curtain burner," Zuko answered. "I did manage to set my school books on fire once though."
"And I recall a certain young prince setting fire to a young lady's hair," Mai interjected from across the room.
"I was provoked," Zuko called back. "You have to admit Azula orchestrated that one too."
"She got us all into trouble at one time or another," Mai said with a sigh. Zuko looked up at her with a sudden rush of understanding and regret. He hadn't thought of his brilliant, yet disturbed sister in months. Mai's words hung between them until Zuko gave her a sad smile. She returned it in kind.
Across the room, Toph watched their interaction with interest. She'd wondered just how it would be seeing Mai again. She hadn't known her well at all during the war or after. The others had told chilling tales of her unrelenting pursuit of them with Azula and Ty-Lee and of her deadly accuracy with knives.
But once she'd defied Azula and changed sides at the prison when she saved Zuko's life, she'd dropped out of the picture until it was all over. Then she surfaced again as Zuko's girlfriend for a good while before dropping out of sight again.
Now she was back in their lives, and Toph still wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Mai knew things about Zuko that Toph was only beginning to discover. For instance, she'd had no idea about his childhood firebending experiences. Zuko didn't like to talk about his childhood. In fact, this was the first time she'd heard him mention Azula by name in a very long time—and certainly it was different to hear any happy memories of his sister—or at least as happy as Azula memories could be.
She and Zuko had talked about having children. She knew he wanted children. But as the months passed, she got the feeling that he was perfectly happy with it just being the two of them. Meanwhile, with each passing month, she grew more anxious to start their family. Did it have anything to do with his childhood? Was he afraid that their family would turn out as messed up as his own had been?
A gong sounded softly to announce that dinner was ready. As he escorted Toph to the table, Zuko casually whispered the names of all the dishes laid out before them—those he recognized at least. Mai had outdone herself in planning for this dinner. There were simple foods for the children and signature dishes from all four nations, including vegetarian dishes for Aang and one of Zuko's particular Fire Nation favorites. There were even a few sea prunes for Sokka.
"What is that?" Katara asked as she pointed toward something large in the center of the table. It was hard for Toph to tell much about dinner on the ordinary wooden table. All those gan wood furnishings Zuko had filled their home with had spoiled her. At least her plate was made of porcelain so she could see it.
"That," Mai replied with a laugh, "is Catgator Steak Swamp Style. It's a little spicy, but the meat is light in flavor—a little like chicken."
"A swamp dish?" Sokka asked in disbelief. "I hoped I'd never see another catgator again after we escaped from that place last time."
"The swamp is not that far away, you know. To get to Ba Sing Se, you have to detour around parts of it. So catgator is something of an Omashu special," Mai explained. "Ever since the war ended, the swamp's residents have taken a little more interest in the world outside. They've started trading in the city."
"I bet that's Hu's doing," Katara added, helping herself to a slice of catgator. "He and the rest of the swamp guys seemed very interested in what they'd seen of the outside world."
"I wonder if they've started wearing pants yet," Sokka asked with a wry grin.
"Probably not," Aang responded. "Pants are an illusion."
Around the table, Sokka, Katara, and Aang laughed, leaving Suki, Mai, Toph, and Zuko to look at each other in confusion.
"Let me tell you a few things about the swamp guys," Sokka began, then proceeded to regale them with a hilarious account of their adventures. Dinner passed very pleasantly, as everyone told tales and laughed together. Toph listened carefully as Zuko and Mai contributed, but neither of them revealed any new information from Zuko's past.
After dinner, she sat next to him on the sofa as they all relaxed and continued to talk, the discussion turning to Omashu and King Bumi's plans. Aang and Mai got deep into conversation about their pet theories as to what King Bumi had up his sleeve. Toph thought they were making a mountain out of a molehill.
She had also known Bumi for years and didn't know what all the fuss was about. True, Bumi was a nut—but he was also a very wise and capable king. Whatever he had planned would be totally unexpected, but totally appropriate, she believed. Twinkletoes and Miss Mai were getting their undies in a twist for nothing in her opinion.
So she turned her attention back to where Zuko and Sokka were deep in a discussion of warrior tactics and swordplay.
"Do you get to spar much these days?" Zuko asked. "I hear you stay busy on the shrimpcrab boats you run."
"True," Sokka said with a proud stretch. "The Duke and I stay pretty busy managing crews and catching shrimpcrab. We fish around the south pole during the fall and winter months. It's pretty grueling."
"So not much chance of keeping your skills up to par?" Zuko asked in a leading tone.
"Are you challenging me?" Sokka looked up at him with an unmistakable glint in his eye.
"Sure, why not?" Zuko replied. "Did you bring your sword?"
"Never travel without it," Sokka answered glibly. Across the room, Toph could hear Suki snort in disbelief. "Never mind her. She's just mad that she left her fans at home."
"I have to," Suki said firmly. "Zutara wants to play with them any time she sees them. She'll cut her finger off."
"True," Sokka agreed. "Toma is the same way with the boomerang. He's wants to learn how to throw it, but he's just not ready yet. He'll put his eye out with a bad toss."
"So when do you start teaching them?" Zuko asked seriously, and Toph noticed that he was watching the children play with an intent look in his eye. "When are they old enough to learn to fight? To kill?"
Sokka shrugged and shook his head sadly. "We learned young because of the war. Too young. I hope they won't have to," he said softly. "I want my children to grow up in a world of peace."
As if on cue, Toma toddled across the floor, his baby's wolf tail pulled back in Water Tribe blue, and reached up to Zuko. Toph watched as her husband hesitated a second as if unsure of what to do, then picked him up. Toma lay back in Zuko's arms, completely at ease. Then he reached up to trace the gold Fire Nation symbol that graced his chest.
An unreadable expression crossed her husband's face as he looked down at the little boy, leaning his cheek into Toma's soft hair. Then Toma's attention turned to the scar on Zuko's face and he ran a tiny fingertip across it.
Only Toph could sense the catch in her husband's breath, could feel the little skip in his heartbeat. Then Toma dropped his hand back to the more interesting golden threads of his tunic, and Zuko calmed again.
As the adults continued to talk, Toma settled more and more quietly against Zuko's chest, finally closing his eyes and drifting to sleep. The sight of her husband cradling the baby gently against him was almost more than Toph could bear.