Chapter 27

Toph sat on her lounge in the sun next to Zuko, bending a nice shade over herself. She watched as Jet walked out of the cave. She'd done her best not to spy on them, but had been aware of the fact that Mai had given him a kiss on the cheek before he left. She wondered why he wasn't happier about it.

Jet and Sokka headed off down the trail away from camp, armed with Jet's bow, Sokka's sword, and a couple of snares. Toph listened for a few minutes and found a flock of prairie turkeys not too far away. Maybe Jet would sense them too. Turkey for dinner would be good.

Aang, Katara, Suki, and the kids went off on Appa to look for berries, leaving the camp quiet for once. Toph was prepared to enjoy it.

Then Mai came out to sit alone by the fire. She didn't seem too happy either. In fact, she seemed so unhappy that Toph decided to let Zuko sun on his own for a few minutes while she checked in on her.

"What's the matter?" Toph asked as she walked up to the fire.

Mai looked up at her in surprise. "Nothing," she lied.

"You're lying," Toph replied evenly. "And don't try to deny it because I'll see that lie too."

"Okay," Mai confessed. "There is something bothering me."

"So?" Toph invited clarification.

"I don't think I'm ready to talk about it," Mai replied. Toph could see that was the truth.

"Jet's a good guy," Toph offered. "I'm sure whatever is going on between you two will work itself out." Then she turned to go back to where her husband lay in the sun.

"Wait a minute," Mai said, then patted the seat next to her.

Toph went back and sat down. After a moment, Mai continued, "I think Jet's the guy."

"That's wonderful!" Toph exclaimed. "So what's the problem?"

"He told me last night that he loved me," Mai said with a sigh. "And this morning I had a run-in with a grizzly wolverine that scared him pretty badly."

"Are you okay?" Toph asked in concern.

"I'm fine," Mai answered. "It was no big deal. But Jet took it kind of hard, I think."

Toph sat back as Mai told her the story of their meeting in the forest.

"So what's bothering you about this? That he was concerned about you?" Toph asked when she'd finished.

Mai sat back herself and began to pick at her skirt. "I'm not exactly sure," she finally continued. "Part of me is flattered, but part of me is scared."

"What are you scared of?" Toph asked gently.

Mai looked away, unable to answer. She was so used to seeing Jet in control. Even in the swamp, he'd been the one to take care of her. But just now, she'd seen him so afraid. Afraid for her.

Then Toph asked her the question she'd been asking herself over and over, "How do you feel about him?"

Mai decided to just come clean. "I don't know. I want to be with him all the time. But it's so scary to think I mean that much to him. I had no idea what to do."

Toph patted her on the shoulder and said, "I'm going to tell you something a very wise woman once told me. Whatever you do, be sure Jet knows he has your respect. Even if he feels like a scared kid, as long as he's a man to you, he can handle it."

Then Toph went back to sit next to Zuko. Mai watched as Zuko's face lit up at Toph's approach. She tried to remember if Jet looked at her that way, but she could only remember seeing the fear in his eyes, feeling him tremble against her.

She didn't want that kind of power. She didn't want anybody that dependent on her for his happiness. It was too much responsibility.

Maybe she should just walk away, she tried to convince herself. Maybe that would be the best thing for both of them.

But he was the guy.

Somewhere inside her, she had to find the courage to love him, the willingness to let his happiness rest in her without fear.

Mai had never believed love was easy, but she wasn't prepared for it to be so hard.

Meanwhile, Sokka had come to another conclusion: Jet had gone insane.

That was the only explanation. It wasn't enough to have laid snares in the most inaccessible of places. Now he was easing out over a canyon on a ledge barely wide enough to stand on and not wide enough to draw a bow on—all in hopes of shooting one of the big wild turkeys in the flock gathered in the valley below.

As he watched Jet lean away from the wall enough to draw the bow for his shot, Sokka began to wonder if he had some kind of death wish.

To his surprise, however, Jet not only managed to get the shot off, he nailed one of the biggest birds on the first try. As the tall earthbender backed off the ledge, Sokka applauded softly.

"That was some impressive shooting," he said. "Now who's going down there to pick up dinner?"

Jet didn't even break stride, but just tossed Sokka the bow and proceeded to climb down the rough hillside. His footing gave way halfway down, sending him in an uncomfortable slide down the embankment. He reached the bottom in a shower of loose rock and dirt.

Without even pausing to dust himself off, he strode over to kneel down beside the fallen bird. He laid one hand on it and bowed his head for a few seconds. Then he picked it up and began the long climb back.

As he watched Jet fight his way through the loose rocks, slipping, sliding, and scraping his way up the hill, Sokka knew he had gone insane.

Finally Jet managed to reach the top and sat there on the dirt, panting with the effort, ignoring the sweat that ran off his forehead and the blood from numerous scrapes and cuts that ran down his arms and hands.

"What is wrong with you?" Sokka asked him bluntly.

"Nothing," Jet replied, his breath still coming heavily.

Sokka knew a lie when he heard one, but didn't call him on it. Instead he reached out to carry the turkey, but Jet waved him off. "I've got it," he said, still a little breathless from his climb back up the hillside.

"Is this enough hunting for you or do you want to go stalk a spotted razorback or hyenaleopard?" Sokka asked sarcastically.

"We could go after the grizzly wolverine I saw this morning," Jet suggested.

"Are you serious?" Sokka replied in disbelief. "Those things are really dangerous. Was there really one somewhere around here?"

"Yep," Jet answered nonchalantly. "Mai ran across it this morning."

"And now you want to go hunt for it?" Sokka clarified.

"Sure, why not?" Jet said with a devilish grin. "Lots of meat on it. Great pelt for the winter."

Sokka rubbed his chin with his fingers as if in contemplation. Then he stated very firmly, "No. We are headed back to camp with what we've got. I, for one, am not suicidal."

"Okay," Jet replied, walking briskly back toward camp, "if you don't want to risk it." Then he paused and looked back across the landscape. "I'll come back and check these snares later on. Maybe we'll catch another turkey."

They returned to camp to find Aang unloading a basket of small fruits. "We saw a bunch of berry bushes a couple of miles away," he said merrily. "Katara and I are going back there in a little while—this time without the kids. Between making sure they didn't walk off a cliff or eat the green ones, it was just a little bit difficult to keep up with them out there," he laughed.

"Hey, Suki and I will hang out in camp with them," Sokka offered. "They'll probably be ready for a nap soon after lunch anyway."

Meanwhile, Jet filled the big washpan with water and proceeded to dress the turkey for roasting. Soon, he had the meat ready for the spit Sokka was busily setting up over the fire. Aang walked past just as he was discarding the water and entrails. The avatar just looked a little pale and shook his head.

"What's with Aang?" Jet asked as he and Sokka put the meat on to cook.

"Vegetarian," Sokka replied. Jet nodded in understanding. To each his own, he guessed.

Then he looked down at his dirty, bloody clothing—mostly his own blood from the numerous scrapes and cuts he'd gotten sliding down then climbing back up the hillside—and decided that the sight of him was probably enough to put the rest of the group off dinner.

"I'm going to wash off," he said to Sokka and went to grab yet another change of clothes.

Then he headed down the tunnel toward the waterfall. He didn't bother to take a light with him. His improved sense of bending told him exactly where he was with only an occasional touch on the wall to adjust his trajectory through the mountain.

He got there and immediately stripped out of his filthy clothes, plunging into the waterfall. He hoped the cold water would clear his mind.

He managed to get himself clean again, the icy water dulling the pain from the cuts and bruises he'd sustained. He'd just pulled on his trousers when he felt someone coming. Mai. He reached around for his clean shirt, but hadn't managed to lay his hand on it when she came around the bend of the tunnel, lamp in hand.

"Hey," he said, a little awkwardly. He hadn't expected her.

"What are you doing back in here in the dark?" she asked in surprise.

"Washing up. What are you doing back in here by yourself?" he asked in return.

"I told you I was going to wash my hair," she explained as she approached him. Then she noticed the scrapes on his arms and chest. "What did you do to yourself?" she asked, coming closer and holding the lamp up where she could see.

"I slid down a hill," he said, a little embarrassed by her scrutiny. She picked up his towel and proceeded to blot away the blood that still oozed a little from the worst of the cuts and scrapes. Then she ran her finger over one of the many fine white scars that marked his body.

"Where did you get these?" she asked in concern.

"Rough living," he said dismissively and tried to reach for his shirt but was distracted by the feel of her hand running across yet another long scar that ran from just beneath his ribs in a diagonal across his stomach.

"Didn't jump back quite far enough that time," he explained. "But I did manage to jump back enough to keep my innards in. That particular guy almost got me. Almost."

"What happened to him?" Mai asked, looking up into his face in concern.

"He ended up in prison for murder—just not mine," Jet answered and found his shirt in the lamplight. He reached up to slip it on over his head.

"Don't do that," Mai instructed firmly. "Wait until they've stopped bleeding or go get Katara to fix you up. Otherwise you'll just bleed through your shirt."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied. Then he asked, "Do you want me to wait for you while you wash your hair?"

"If you want to," she answered. "But you have to turn your back."

"Where's the fun in that?" he asked in a teasing voice, but turned around all the same.

Mai set the lamp down and slipped out of her tunic, leaving her undershirt on. It would just have to get wet, she thought to herself. Then she swept her hair over her head and stuck it into the waterfall, gasping at the cold.

Jet laughed, "It's a little chilly, isn't it?"

"Freezing is the word," she replied with a shiver. "I don't know how you stand to put your whole body in this."

"You get used to it," he said with another laugh. "After a while it starts to feel good—refreshing."

After a few minutes, she'd finished and dressed, wrapping her hair up in the towel she'd brought with her.

Jet pulled on his boots, sorry to see the earthbending image he'd had of her fade away. Part of him felt a little like he was spying on her by watching her when she'd told him to turn around. The other part said it wasn't like he could really see anything. All the same, he did enjoy seeing what he could.

"Can I put my shirt on yet?" he asked. The air was a little cool. Plus he didn't really want to advertise his carelessness to everyone else.

She walked over to give his scrapes another look. "I told you to be careful," she chided. "Sokka was telling us how risky that shot was."

"Sokka likes to talk," Jet responded dismissively. "I was perfectly safe the entire time."

"I'm sure you were," she replied evenly. "But all the same, I don't like for you to get hurt." She ran a finger over yet another scar. "It looks like you've been hurt often enough already."

He reached out to grab her hand. She didn't need to touch him like that. She didn't need to care about him like that. It took all his concentration to keep himself in check as it was.

She took a step back away from him. "I'm sorry," she said.

"No," he replied. "You've got nothing to be sorry for."

Then he pulled on his shirt and grabbed her hand, glad to have some continuing contact with her. He picked up their things and headed back out of the tunnel. She held the lamp in her hand, but he never consulted his eyes for the return trip. His heart told him where to go.

Zuko lay in the sun, deep in thought. When they got back to Omashu, he had so much to do. First of all, he had to write Uncle and tell him what was going on.

He debated whether or not to tell him about the baby, then decided he really wanted to tell him in person. He smiled to himself at the thought of Uncle's expression when he heard he'd be a grandfather.

Then he smiled to himself again. He really would be the baby's grandfather. After all he'd been Zuko's father since he was fourteen years old. It had just take Zuko a few years to understand.

Toph came to sit beside him.

"Can I tell you something?" Zuko asked.

"Of course you can, Sparky," Toph answered, reaching out to rub his arm. "You can tell me anything."

"I want to tell you about what happened to me on the day I had the Agni Kai with my father," he began.

Toph perked up. This was unexpected. Zuko had told them the story years ago at the Western Air Temple when they'd been getting ready for battle with Ozai. What was he going to tell her now?

Zuko began retelling the story she'd already heard—how he'd questioned a general's order and been forced to face his father in the Agni Kai as punishment for his impertinence. But what she hadn't heard before was the part Iroh had played after it was over.

"I remember hearing my father and Uncle talking outside the door of the sickroom where they'd taken me," Zuko continued quietly. "Uncle was yelling at him—I never heard him that upset before or since. He kept asking my father how he could do such a thing to his own son."

Zuko lay there for a moment in quiet remembrance. Through the haze of pain from the burns he'd sustained, he'd listened so hard for his father's answer. He'd wanted to know the same thing so badly. How could his father have done such a thing to his own son?

"He must understand fire," Ozai had replied in a tone as hard as steel. "Fire is uncompromising. Fire has no mercy."

"You are the one who doesn't understand, Ozai," Iroh had stated just as firmly. "You've just scarred this boy for life—in more ways than one. He's your son, Ozai. Go to him. Make it right somehow before it's too late."

Zuko's heart had leaped at that. Perhaps his father would come to him and tell him it was for his own good. That he'd learned his lesson. He would accept the punishment like a man.

But his father had not come in. Instead, Zuko had heard his father say, "Zuko must make amends. He must earn the right to be called my son. He must regain his honor. I will set him a task—a task that should give him ample time to reflect on his position and his duties."

Then in a loud voice, Ozai had announced, "Let Prince Zuko find the avatar and bring him to me. Then he will have erased this stain on his honor. Then he will have earned his position by my side."

"That's insane," Iroh had retorted. "The avatar has not been seen in a hundred years. It's a fool's errand to search for him."

"Then you shall join him," Ozai had stated in a sinister voice. "Go search for the avatar, brother. Perhaps you will find him and restore your own honor in the Fire Nation."

After a moment, Iroh had entered the room alone. Zuko had closed his eyes and pretended he was asleep. He didn't want to talk to him.

"Zuko," Iroh had sighed. "What has he done to you? To send you on such a quest. Just enough hope to drive you insane searching. Give it up. Give him up."

"No," Zuko had whispered through the pain. "I will not give up. I will have my honor back. I will have my place. My father will be proud of me on the day I bring the avatar to the capital in chains."

"I am already proud of you, Zuko," Iroh said. "Does that count for nothing?"

"You are not my father," Zuko had answered coldly.

Back at the cave, Zuko looked at Toph with sadness in his eyes. "But he was. Uncle had already become my father. When he took me in, he accepted me just like I was. No matter how many ways I found to hurt him, no matter how many times I turned my anger on him, he was always there for me. He never stopped loving me and trying to help me see the right path."

Then Zuko reached over to place his hand on her stomach. "I know how to be a father," he continued in a soft voice. "I have the best father in the world. All I have to do is take care of my son like Uncle took care of me."

"You are going to be the most wonderful father a baby could ever have," Toph assured him as she placed her hand over his. He pulled her even closer into his embrace and they lay there together in the sun, side by side.

After a moment, Zuko held out his hand. Part of him was afraid to try. Another part was afraid not to. Aang's warning that he could lose his ability to bend completely had struck a nerve. Bending was part of who he was. He couldn't imagine living without it. He wondered how Jet had managed to survive with such an important part of himself buried.

He needed to be able to bend again. So he took a deep breath and began to work through the basic forms in his mind.

Relaxing against him, Toph felt his breathing change, become deeper, slower. She knew that breath. She'd felt it so many times from the balcony as her husband began his morning meditations and bending workout. He was going to try to bend.

Toph continued to lie there as still as she could. She didn't know if he was aware that she knew what he was doing, and she didn't want to break his concentration.

She remembered the fire in Lian Shen's garden, how she'd been able to really see it. The memory had grown distant in her mind, especially without a reference in her usual way of seeing. But she tried her best to hold onto that image, to imagine that dancing flame in her husband's hand.

In most ways, Zuko's bending was invisible to her. She got a sense of heightened activity when he worked and had a general idea of the shape and strength of the flame being produced by the subtle vibrations that traveled through his body. But couldn't really see it despite working a very long time to learn how to see firebending as well as she had.

She remembered so many years ago watching Zuko and Aang practice for hours on end, trying to guess the shape and form of their jets of flame just by feel. Katara had accused her many times of just wanting to watch the boys, and there was a good deal of truth in that.

But she'd also really needed to be able to see firebending, especially if they were going to try to defeat a whole army of firebenders. She'd needed to know if someone was shooting flames at her before she felt her eyebrows burning.

But in the end, fire was mostly invisible to her and apart from the heat, fairly boring. It was far more fun to watch Zuko spar with his swords. Then she could easily see the result of his efforts as his blades met the blade of his sparring partner as he backed and dodged, parrying Zuko's cuts and lunges. The vibrations as the metal swords rang against each other carried in both her ears and in her vision.

Now, though, the idea of being able to see Zuko bend in any shape, form, or fashion was extremely interesting to her.

She found herself holding her breath as she concentrated all her attention on his upturned palm. Then she saw it, the smallest of vibrations—fire. She watched with a huge smile on her face as the tongue of flame grew in his hand, his skin becoming warmer as he worked.

"Oh, way to go, Sparky," she breathed.

Then he closed his hand in victory and pulled her into him, kissing her with a combination of excitement and relief.

"Let's get out of here," Zuko whispered in her ear, his voice as warm as an open flame.