Chapter 33

Once they reached the residential building, the group split up as each they went their separate ways to their quarters.

Suki walked with Sokka, aware that on the walk home, he'd been pretty quiet. At first she thought he was just tired, then she realized he was deep in thought. She knew her best shot at getting him to talk to her was to get him relaxed—extremely relaxed, she thought with a grin. So she began to lay the foundation.

"I bet the kids will be sound asleep when we get in," she ventured in a completely nonchalant voice.

"Probably," he replied. But instead of rising to the bait with his customary little grin, he just kept walking and thinking.

Sure enough, they were met in the foyer by the maid who informed them that the children were down for the night. Thanking her, Suki followed Sokka up the stairs. As they got themselves ready for bed, she flashed strategic bits of skin at him, but he failed to notice.

He put another couple of chunks of coal on the bedroom fire, then crawled under the silken coverlet—so different from the variety of thick furs that kept them warm at home on those cold winter nights—and rolled over to go to sleep.

She cuddled up against him and launched her next attack against his contemplations. "Are you sleepy?" she asked, curling up against him as close as she could get.

"Not really," he answered, then he actually sat up on the edge of the bed. "I might go downstairs for a while and read or something."

This was serious, Suki realized. Her husband definitely had something on his mind. She had a choice to make—either let him go downstairs and brood over it or do something to keep his interest upstairs. She voted for the latter and ran her hand down the bare skin of his back.

"You sure you want to go downstairs?" she asked, putting a little extra warmth in her voice.

"I don't have to," he replied, turning to glance at her. But she could tell he was still distracted.

So she unloaded her entire arsenal against him. She pulled her tunic over her head and knelt there on the bed in front of him, completely naked. If that didn't work, she'd gone home with the wrong man.

It worked.

Sokka pushed her back onto the mattress with a grin, his eyes flashing. "You got something else in mind?" he asked playfully.

"Maybe," she answered coyly. She looked up at him—so handsome, those beautiful blue eyes. His hair, dark as a raven's wing, fell around his face as he leaned over her. She reached up and grabbed a handful to pull him to her.

Some time later, she was still playing with his hair as he lay beside her--extremely relaxed. Then she asked, "What's on your mind, sweetheart?"

He leaned up on one elbow to look at her. "Do you want to be queen of something?" he asked in reply.

"Queen of what?" She responded. This was unexpected, she thought to herself.

"Well, everyone else in the group has some big important position. Aang's the avatar, Zuko's going to be Fire Lord. Now Jet is going to be king of Omashu. Do you wish I was going to be king of something?" he asked bluntly.

That was one of the things she loved the most about her husband. Once he decided to talk, he didn't tiptoe around the subject. He just launched right in.

She almost blurted out a sincere, "No!" Then she decided to give it some thought. Did she wish Sokka had a position like the other guys? It would mean a nicer place to live, pretty clothes, travel, big dinners, meeting foreign dignitaries.

She blurted out a sincere, "No!" Then she followed up with her reasons. "Sokka, baby, we have a life of our own. We come and go as we please. We don't have a nation of people depending on us for their livelihoods. You are a very successful man and I am very proud to be your wife. But I don't want to be queen of anything."

Sokka looked relieved. He lay down again beside her and pulled her into his arms so her head rested on his shoulder. "You got so cheated when we got married," he said with a laugh and a sigh. "I got this gorgeous incredible warrior and you got a fisherman."

"I've got everything I want," she replied firmly. "Besides, you're a fleet captain too."

"Speaking of the fleet," Sokka began, "did you see the Watertribe leathers Longshot had in his shop?" At Suki's nod he continued. "I need to try to set up some trade with him. I don't know who's been supplying him, but I know for a fact I can get my hands on skins that are twice as nice and a third cheaper."

As Sokka began to plan new trade routes into Omashu, Suki relaxed and listened to him, glad to hear the sound of his voice again.

But Sokka hadn't been the only quiet one in the group coming home.

The walk home had been very companionable, but still very quiet, especially for Jet.

All the way back from the leathershop, he'd thought about being king of Omashu. When he'd agreed to go for it before, he'd just wanted to impress Mai in hopes of gaining her interest. Now he knew that was the entirely wrong reason to do it.

Not that he didn't want to be with Mai—far from it. The longer he was with her, the more he knew he wouldn't be complete without her.

But he didn't need to become king of Omashu for her.

Talking to the guys had reminded him of why he'd always been the leader of the Freedom Fighters. He'd felt compelled to do it. Sometimes he hadn't wanted to do it, but he always knew he was the one who could.

He could make the hard calls. He could keep the guys in line and get them to work together. When winter came or the authorities got too close, he was the one everyone looked to for guidance. At first, he'd embraced the role. It was a real head-rush to know he was in charge.

But all too soon, the practicalities reared their ugly heads. He had to make unpopular decisions. He had to listen to petty grievances when he'd rather go to bed. He had to ask people to leave when their staying threatened the group as a whole.

That was when he learned that leading was not about being the boss. It was more about being committed to the group and its members, to helping everyone achieve their goals—whether those goals were to survive the winter or build a new treehouse hideout or drive a group of soldiers out of the forest or (he cringed at this) to wash a valley clean of Fire Nation presence.

As the leader, his primary job was to keep everyone working toward those common goals and to utilize the strengths of each member in the best way possible. For so many years, his whole life was dedicated to serving that group of kids as their leader. It was all he was. It was all he had.

When he'd lost that, he'd lost himself to a degree. He'd lost a sense of purpose that had driven him.

But the idea of serving as king of Omashu had renewed that drive. He couldn't walk down the street without seeing problems to address, people who needed an advocate, opportunities to make things better.

Walking with Mai at his side made it even clearer to him. She knew the city so well. She also cared very much about it—not just as an ambassador, but as a resident. Omashu was truly more her home than Jet's. If she'd been born an earthbender, she could easily be the next ruler herself, he realized.

He looked at her as they walked through the residential complex to her door. The elegance that he'd been so drawn to when he first saw her was still there, but now he could see past that to the person she really was.

On the surface, Mai seemed so controlled, so proper, so practical. But he'd seen the other side of her—the side she kept hidden from the rest of the world. Beneath that calm exterior was a passionate, fierce, vulnerable woman, and he wanted to explore her. He wanted to understand everything she was, everything she wanted to be.

The touch of her hand on his arm was like a drug. He wanted more of it. It had been days since he'd had a chance to do more than touch her hand or kiss her fingers. What had been so easy to do in the swamp and in the cave had become impossible back in the formal world of Omashu.

He found himself watching her constantly, touching the sleeve of her tunic or brushing his fingers against her hair as she walked past him—anything he could get away with. He knew the rest of the group wasn't chaperoning them. But all the same, he knew she was under observance by the social world she moved in and he wouldn't jeopardize her honor for anything.

They stopped just outside her door. Jet was acutely aware that the rest of their party had gone on, leaving them for once completely alone.

The evening was a little cool now that fall had begun to approach, so Mai invited him to come inside. Her invitation was innocent, but he knew he'd never be able to keep his hands off her in private. And he truly didn't know how far he'd try to go if given the opportunity. It wouldn't be fair to her.

"I don't think I should," Jet answered, but he ran a warm hand down her arm, realizing he couldn't keep his hands off her in public either.

Mai stepped closer to him, inviting another caress. She had missed being touched by him. Badly.

She was so glad when he pulled her to him, holding her in a warm embrace. She put her arms around him, careful not to put undue pressure on the still-healing bruises on his back.

They stood there a long moment, his cheek pressed to her forehead. She could feel his fingers playing lightly with the ends of her hair. She enjoyed just being held by him, but if he didn't kiss her soon, she thought, she'd just have to kiss him.

But as she was getting ready to go for it, he pulled back and looked deep into her eyes and said, "I love you." Then he kissed her—but not passionately. He placed a gentle hand on the side of her face and kissed her with a profound tenderness, with care, as if she were the most precious thing in the world. She thought her heart would stop.

Then he just looked at her with those eyes like dark emeralds, the lamplight flickering across his face. She wanted to say it. She wanted to tell him that she loved him too. She felt it to the core of her being. But the words just wouldn't come.

He opened her front door. The footman immediately came to hold it open for her as Jet gave her a very courtly bow and simply said, "Good night."

She stood there a long quiet moment, the footman waiting patiently. At last she had to walk inside, and before she could turn back to at least tell him good night, the footman had already closed the door behind her, shutting him off from her view.

Across the courtyard, Zuko shut the bedroom door with a yawn. He glanced over to see that Toph had already gone to sleep. She looked so small in the huge bed. He remembered when they first met. She'd barely reached his shoulder. They both grew a few inches since then, but she still barely reached his shoulder.

How in the world would she ever be able to carry a baby? The thought filled him with sudden fear and doubt. Then he stopped himself firmly in his tracks. Toph might not be very tall, but she was anything but fragile.

He wondered who the baby would look like. He hoped Toph. She was so beautiful—Uncle Iroh had said she was as lovely as melting snow on spring blossoms.

He wished he could come up with things like that to say to her.

He wished he could find some poetic way to tell her how precious she was to him. Then he smiled. If he did, she'd just laugh and hit him. Then kiss him.

He lay down as close to her as he could get without disturbing her. Sokka had particularly impressed him with the importance of sleep to an expectant mother. "She'll get as crabby as a molting howlerparrot if she doesn't get her rest," he'd said. Zuko just added that piece of advice to the already impressive collection of wisdom for fathers-to-be that Sokka and Aang had been sharing with him.

He settled in beside her, letting his fingers rest against the soft silk of her top and went to sleep. Deep in the night, he got his first taste of another pregnancy phenomenon when Toph had her first nightmare.

She dreamed she was in the palace garden with the baby. He was so beautiful, so perfect. Holding him in her arms, she could see him in every detail. But when she put him down on the soft grass to play, he suddenly vanished.

She couldn't see him. She couldn't see anything. It was like being lost in the swamp again, only worse.

Desperately, she felt around on the ground for him, but he wasn't there. Then she heard him start to cry.

Terrified, she began to search blindly, crawling across the grass feeling for him. He was right there but she couldn't find him. She could only hear the sound of that heartbreaking cry.

She called to him. She tried to reassure him that she was there, that she was coming for him. But she couldn't see him. She couldn't find him. Where was her baby?

She woke up with a frightened start, sitting straight up in bed, breathing heavily, the sound of her baby's cry still echoing in her ears. Beside her, she felt Zuko stir. "You okay, sweetie?" he asked.

The sound of his voice broke through the panic. But instead of calming, she burst into tears. She needed to be able to see her baby. What if she couldn't? What if her baby needed her and she couldn't find him?

Zuko sat up and reached for her, and she threw herself against him.

"I couldn't see him," she sobbed. "I couldn't find the baby, Zuko."

He had no idea what to do except rub her back and reassure her. "It's okay," he repeated, holding her close. "It was just a bad dream, sweetie."

Finally, her tears subsided and she whispered, "I'm okay." Then she curled up against him and went back to sleep, the nightmare fading away. After a long while, so did he.

The next morning, the group gathered as usual to watch Zuko and Jet's sparring practice. Mai stood on her balcony as the two men stretched in preparation. She noticed that Zuko wore his customary dark red trousers and sleeveless tunic, while Jet wore dark green.

She also noted that Jet was holding the black meteor sword instead of the silver sword Sokka had given him to use.

Down on the grounds, Sokka stood near them. "Are you sure you don't mind?" Jet was asking again as he gave the black sword an experimental swing.

"No, use it," Sokka replied sincerely, then turned to walk away.

"Why do you want it anyway?" Zuko asked Jet, pulling his own twin blades free.

"I want to try some sword bending," Jet replied. "You know, see if I can enhance my swordplay with some of the bending techniques Toph has been teaching me."

"That makes me nervous," Zuko replied with a grin. "She's pretty devious. Who knows what you'll be doing. Just try not to actually puncture me, okay?"

"Hey, I'm the one experimenting," Jet stated. "I'll probably be terrible at it and get myself punctured instead. We'll go easy—but pay attention just in case."

Zuko agreed and the two began trading some tentative blows, Jet working to enhance his sword's maneuverability and speed with bending techniques.

In the stands, Sokka sat next to Suki, Zutara between them. Toma and Bumi had taken their usual spot underneath the stands to play in the shade.

"I think I'm going to give the meteor sword back to Jet," Sokka stated out of nowhere.

"Really?" Suki asked casually. "Why?"

"It's not like I'm going to be using it for battle or anything. It'll just hang on the wall as a souvenir," he sighed. "But that sword is a good fit for Jet because it's also a bendable for him. For an earth king to have an earth sword—that's pretty cool, you have to admit."

"But that's your sword, Daddy," Zutara spoke up. "You've told me the whole story about how the metal fell out of the sky and how you learned to be a warrior and how they made your sword just for you."

"That was a long time ago," Sokka answered, putting his arm around her. "I think maybe that sword came to me at the time I needed it, but now Jet needs it to help him be king of Omashu."

"No, Daddy," Zutara refused to be swayed. "That's your sword."

"Not anymore, baby," Sokka replied, giving her a kiss on the head and turning his attention back to the combatants as Aang sat next to him. Suki meanwhile moved up a row in the stands to talk to Katara and Toph.

"Isn't Mai coming down?" Katara asked as Suki sat down next to her. "She never misses a match."

"She's on her way," Toph replied.

Up on her balcony, Mai started to take the stairs down to the courtyard when her attention was suddenly riveted to the scene below her. It seemed familiar—too familiar.

She looked down at the two men exchanging blows. They danced back and forth, that strange dark blade meeting those twin broadswords with a ringing sound. They laughed as they fought, challenging and taunting each other.

She noticed Jet's style of sword play as if for the first time. It was haphazard, sloppy almost. A mix of styles and tricks cobbled together from a lifetime of facing a wide variety of opponents. Zuko's classically trained style stood in contrast to it.

But each time Zuko attempted to take advantage of an opening, Jet would somehow close the gap—always in an unexpected fashion. And he would frequently turn that parry into an attack of his own, keeping Zuko hard pressed to avoid the tip of his blade as well.

They were both stronger now, moving easier, more fluidly. Mai always enjoyed watching them spar. She enjoyed watching Jet move, watching the strength and control in his arms and shoulders. Watching the gracefulness as he circled and advanced in their deadly ballet.

But today, she was not enjoying it. Today she was held in her spot by a disturbing feeling of deja vu. She'd seen this all before. She'd watched this very fight before, she knew it.

In a flash it came to her. She'd dreamed about it in the swamp. She knew what was going to happen next. At any moment a small child was going to dart out between them and tangle in Jet's legs, slowing him just enough to keep him from evading Zuko's blade. A cold chill ran over her.

Jet was going to die.

She began to run.

Zutara, meanwhile, was out of patience. She inched her way down the rows of seats until she stood on the edge of the ring. She looked back up at her parents. Both were busy talking and watching.

Then she looked back at where Jet and Uncle Zuko fought. That was her daddy's sword. Jet couldn't keep it. You didn't give something to someone then take it back. It wasn't right.

If her daddy wouldn't ask for his sword back, she'd just do it. She watched until it looked like Jet and Uncle Zuko might be getting ready to stop. Then she ran out into the ring.

Jet was so busy concentrating on trying to avoid Zuko's swords while influencing his own with bending that he never saw the little girl running toward him. However, he did see Mai running from the other side.

He wondered just what she was doing when he felt an impact against his leg, slowing him down just as Zuko lunged toward him. But then Mai slammed into him from the other side, knocking him out of the way of Zuko's sword.

The tip of the curved blade snagged her side instead, and blood began to pour from the jagged wound, spreading bright red on the gold silk of her dress.

Time seemed to slow down as he turned to her. She stood there, her hand pressed against her side, her eyes wide.

His sword fell from his hand with a distant clatter and he caught her just as her knees buckled. He was vaguely aware that Zuko had pulled Zutara to the side as well, his own swords falling into the dust with a faraway ring.

The sun shone down brightly, casting his shadow across her as he eased her to the ground, supporting her in his arms. Mai looked up at him as if she wanted to tell him something. "Jet," she whispered, reaching her hand up to his face.

She wanted to say the words. She wanted to tell him that she loved him. She'd never said it. She'd always been afraid to jump.

But she'd done it. She'd jumped. And he'd caught her. Everything began to swirl around her. She needed to say the words. To be sure he heard it. He had to know.

She met his eyes with a little smile, still trying to speak. Katara ran up to her, waters swirling urgently around the jagged wound in her side where it bled freely, pouring red onto the brown stones.

Kneeling there on the earth, Mai in his arms, Jet could feel her heart beat, he could feel it slow and skip. Fear ripped through him. She was slipping away from him.

"No, no," he whispered to her, "Mai, don't do this to me. Don't leave me. Please, don't."

Then her eyes fluttered shut.

(AN: Because I love you all, I am posting the next chapter as well. I just can't make you wait two days. That doesn't mean you get to skip reviewing this chapter. Review first! Then read.)