Sozin's Bay: Chapter Five -- Dinner with the Dragon
Title: Sozin's Bay
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Mai, Zuko, Iroh Pairings: Mai/Zuko
Word Count: ~28,000, sixteen parts. Chapter Five: ~2,000.
Summary: Mai and Zuko run into each other in the colonies. She's accompanying her father on a business trip. He's having his ship outfitted for a voyage to the South Pole in search of the Avatar. This chance encounter stirs up long dormant feelings and leaves both of them wondering if they'll ever see each other again.
Five: Dinner with the Dragon
After Zuko and General Iroh left, the teashop began to get busy. The waiter gave Mai a disapproving look for continuing to occupy a table after finishing her tea. She glared at him. He promptly turned his attention to other customers, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
She remembered the night Zuko was banished. She returned to the capital city on the ferry, after spending two days trapped with her annoying cousins on Dragon Egg Island. It was a tiny island--named because it was supposedly shaped like a dragon's egg--and her father's family owned most of it. People called the place pastoral, which meant it was rural and boring instead of urban and boring. She hated every minute of the trip, filled with petty bickering between her mother and her father's sisters, who had never approved of her father's choice of wife, and nosy questions from her bumpkin cousins about why she painted her nails black and the exciting things she must do at court. (The answers, although her cousins would not believe her, were that she painted her nails black because she wanted to and that she didn't do anything exciting at court.) The wedding itself was boring, but at least everyone shut up during those few hours.
She'd been so glad to finally go back home. She stood on the deck of the ferry, watching the capital city lights grow brighter in the night sky as the ship slowly approached, wondering if she could wrangle her way into going to the palace this late. She was the first one down the gangway, and she realized something was wrong when she reached the rickshaw stand at the end of the dock. Two men passing by were whispering, the words Prince Zuko and Agni Kai and banished striking her ears like thunder. She raced home by herself on foot, ignoring her mother's calls for her to wait.
At home, she found her father sitting in the garden alone, visibly shaken. He hugged her tight for a long time, something so rare she could count the number of times he'd done it. He hadn't wanted to tell her anything, but she explained, calmly, that she wanted to know what happened from someone who saw it and not have her ears filled with gossip. He relented and described what had happened at the duel with as little detail as possible.
Mai stayed awake all night, throwing knives at her bedroom wall. For the first time, she threw them not to pass the time or to test her skill, but in raw rage. She imagined each blade sinking into the Fire Lord's flesh, cold and furious, until he was red with blood and studded with steel, like her mother's favorite bright red pincushion. She knew this was a treasonous fantasy. She didn't care.
The next day was a haze. She went to school, struggling not to cry, not to listen to her classmates whispering, not to leap up and release a storm of arrows in the middle of a lesson. When she got home, she felt exhausted and lightheaded, almost drugged. She sat at dinner, not eating, while her mother discussed plans for a party for something or other. After, her mother retired to her sewing room and sat calmly working on needlepoint. Mai watched her for a few minutes, until she asked, in a tone showing no acknowledgment that anything had happened, if anything was wrong. Mai remembered Zuko's mother's disappearance, how her mother seemed to simply forget Princess Ursa existed. Her mother was friends with the Princess, boasted about playing pai sho and drinking tea with the Princess, and wanted her daughter to marry the Princess's son, and she never said a word when the Princess vanished. Mai said nothing was wrong, knowing it was pointless to try to talk to her mother.
She went to her father, who was in his study, hunched over a long scroll. He looked up at her standing at the door, his face showing sadness and nervousness. He didn't want to talk about what had happened again, he wanted to forget it himself. He had seen something ugly and twisted and didn't want to think about why it had happened or what it might mean. She knew then she had to keep her grief and her rage and her questions to herself, not only at school but everywhere.
Mai was so immersed in unpleasant memories she didn't notice her father's arrival, almost two hours late, until he sat down next to her and said her name. He seemed concerned, saying she looked distressed, but she assured him she was fine and the two of them set off to shop. She found herself putting more energy into shopping than she planned. The alternative was worrying about what would happen that evening or remembering the unhappy days after Zuko left. Mai found a present for Ty Lee, a garish, rainbow-colored mechanical acrobat that would tumble when wound up. She found a present for her uncle, a wildly inaccurate picture of the Boiling Rock, painted by an artist who had clearly never been there, which showed prisoners screaming as they flailed in steaming waters. She did not find anything on her mother's list worth buying, but purchased a few small items just to prove she tried. A set of pai sho tiles decorated with figures from Fire Nation mythology, a dark wood scroll case with a phoenix carved on the lid, and a pair of small, stand-up picture frames made of polished bloodstone. Her father bought a pair of fluffy, white koala sheep slippers for himself, which her mother would say were horrible. She did not look for anything for Azula--the Princess did not expect or appreciate souvenirs.
After the shopping was done, Mai returned to the hotel while her father went to the Governor's house to meet the Chancellor and the Chairman. She spotted a chip in one of her nails, so she filed and re-painted them. She rummaged through her clothes, wondering what to wear to dinner with her old boyfriend who may not want to see her and his uncle she barely knew. She sighed and decided to wear her regular clothes.
At seven, she found the officer who would escort her to the ship in the hotel lobby. The walk downhill wasn't long and she become nervous as she approached the dock. She reminded herself that whatever happened, it would at least not be as boring as sitting in her hotel room alone all night.
Zuko's uncle was waiting for her on deck, but Zuko himself was not. General Iroh said, "I am sorry to say that Prince Zuko is indisposed. I'm afraid you will be stuck with the company of an old man."
"When you say 'indisposed,' you mean he's brooding in his room, right?"
"Yes, I do."
Mai sighed. "If he really doesn't want to see me, I won't bother him."
"I would not say that. We must be patient with my nephew. He is sometimes unsure of what he wants himself right now."
"Well, Zuko can do what he likes. I'm eating dinner."
"That is the spirit." General Iroh held out his arm to show her to the dining room. He apologized for the appearance of the ship, since there were currently repairs underway, and assured her that the work had ended for the night.
Mai had been intimidated by Zuko's uncle because of his reputation as the Dragon of the West, although he was always friendly to herself and Ty Lee the few times they had seen him. Now, she discovered that he was as courteous to his guests as he was reported to be ferocious to his enemies. The food was excellent--clearly the ship had a first-rate cook--and the dining room had all the familiar comforts she would expect at home. But the notable part of the experience was that General Iroh made honest effort to engage her in conversation.
Most of the old military men Mai had dined with either dominated the conversation or said nothing at all. But the General seemed genuinely interested in talking with her. She had been raised not to speak unless spoken to and, although she did not strictly follow the letter of that law as she got older, the spirit had become a way of life. Sometimes she didn't speak when she was spoken to and she'd discovered that often her interlocutor seemed not to notice she hadn't replied. But General Iroh was a good listener as well as a skilled speaker. She found herself talking much more freely to him than she had to anyone in a long time.
She described the changes at home in the past two years--new government buildings, new gardens, new shops--and passed on some choice bits of court news. She told him about her new brother and how big a change it had been for everyone in the family. He empathized with her situation, which surprised her but made sense on reflection. He had been even older when his only sibling was born. She'd heard that Zuko's grandmother had a series of miscarriages and stillbirths between her two sons, all kept hidden from the public. She was curious about the General's past, but did not ask questions that would likely be uncomfortable when he had been so kind to her. Neither of them spoke of Zuko. It didn't feel right to her to talk about him behind his back on his own ship. Also, if he had some way of eavesdropping on them, she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was a topic of conversation.
The pai sho tournament came up in discussion. When she mentioned she played, General Iroh invited her to a match and she accepted. Zuko may be hiding from her, but she was having a surprisingly good time with his uncle. The General won the game easily, as she expected. She was a decent player, but she could tell early on that he was a master. Still, it was interesting to see his unorthodox strategy and she felt she'd learned something about the game.
After the match, they had tea, which General Iroh brewed himself. As the night deepened, it became obvious Zuko wouldn't emerge. She was getting tired and it was late enough that her father's meeting should be ending, if it hadn't already, so she decided to return to the hotel.
The General walked her back. "I am sorry my nephew did not join us," he said. "He missed a lovely evening."
Mai sighed. "Tell him I just wanted to say hello. Tell him--tell him there are people at home who miss him."
"I think he would appreciate hearing that."
General Iroh bid her farewell. Mai returned to the suite and found that her father was not back yet. She laid down on her bed. She had an enjoyable evening, but her questions and confusion about Zuko remained. She thought about his uncle's call for patience with him, and wondered if she should attempt to see him again. She stretched her arms and legs, staring at the ceiling. She decided she would try once more, but not tomorrow. She had her pride and refused to spend the rest of her time in Sozin's Bay chasing him. If he truly did not want to see her, if the bond between them had been severed by time apart and suffering not shared, then there was nothing she could do but mourn the loss. But if he was avoiding her out of an exaggerated sense of propriety, well, they were in the wrong place to be worried about what was proper.
She rolled onto her side, looking out the window onto the dark harbor. She did miss him. Her mother said she would find herself another boy before she knew it, but her mother was wrong.
--End Chapter Five
Chapter Six: Honorable and Right
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Mai, Zuko, Iroh Pairings: Mai/Zuko
Word Count: ~28,000, sixteen parts. Chapter Five: ~2,000.
Summary: Mai and Zuko run into each other in the colonies. She's accompanying her father on a business trip. He's having his ship outfitted for a voyage to the South Pole in search of the Avatar. This chance encounter stirs up long dormant feelings and leaves both of them wondering if they'll ever see each other again.
Five: Dinner with the Dragon
After Zuko and General Iroh left, the teashop began to get busy. The waiter gave Mai a disapproving look for continuing to occupy a table after finishing her tea. She glared at him. He promptly turned his attention to other customers, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
She remembered the night Zuko was banished. She returned to the capital city on the ferry, after spending two days trapped with her annoying cousins on Dragon Egg Island. It was a tiny island--named because it was supposedly shaped like a dragon's egg--and her father's family owned most of it. People called the place pastoral, which meant it was rural and boring instead of urban and boring. She hated every minute of the trip, filled with petty bickering between her mother and her father's sisters, who had never approved of her father's choice of wife, and nosy questions from her bumpkin cousins about why she painted her nails black and the exciting things she must do at court. (The answers, although her cousins would not believe her, were that she painted her nails black because she wanted to and that she didn't do anything exciting at court.) The wedding itself was boring, but at least everyone shut up during those few hours.
She'd been so glad to finally go back home. She stood on the deck of the ferry, watching the capital city lights grow brighter in the night sky as the ship slowly approached, wondering if she could wrangle her way into going to the palace this late. She was the first one down the gangway, and she realized something was wrong when she reached the rickshaw stand at the end of the dock. Two men passing by were whispering, the words Prince Zuko and Agni Kai and banished striking her ears like thunder. She raced home by herself on foot, ignoring her mother's calls for her to wait.
At home, she found her father sitting in the garden alone, visibly shaken. He hugged her tight for a long time, something so rare she could count the number of times he'd done it. He hadn't wanted to tell her anything, but she explained, calmly, that she wanted to know what happened from someone who saw it and not have her ears filled with gossip. He relented and described what had happened at the duel with as little detail as possible.
Mai stayed awake all night, throwing knives at her bedroom wall. For the first time, she threw them not to pass the time or to test her skill, but in raw rage. She imagined each blade sinking into the Fire Lord's flesh, cold and furious, until he was red with blood and studded with steel, like her mother's favorite bright red pincushion. She knew this was a treasonous fantasy. She didn't care.
The next day was a haze. She went to school, struggling not to cry, not to listen to her classmates whispering, not to leap up and release a storm of arrows in the middle of a lesson. When she got home, she felt exhausted and lightheaded, almost drugged. She sat at dinner, not eating, while her mother discussed plans for a party for something or other. After, her mother retired to her sewing room and sat calmly working on needlepoint. Mai watched her for a few minutes, until she asked, in a tone showing no acknowledgment that anything had happened, if anything was wrong. Mai remembered Zuko's mother's disappearance, how her mother seemed to simply forget Princess Ursa existed. Her mother was friends with the Princess, boasted about playing pai sho and drinking tea with the Princess, and wanted her daughter to marry the Princess's son, and she never said a word when the Princess vanished. Mai said nothing was wrong, knowing it was pointless to try to talk to her mother.
She went to her father, who was in his study, hunched over a long scroll. He looked up at her standing at the door, his face showing sadness and nervousness. He didn't want to talk about what had happened again, he wanted to forget it himself. He had seen something ugly and twisted and didn't want to think about why it had happened or what it might mean. She knew then she had to keep her grief and her rage and her questions to herself, not only at school but everywhere.
Mai was so immersed in unpleasant memories she didn't notice her father's arrival, almost two hours late, until he sat down next to her and said her name. He seemed concerned, saying she looked distressed, but she assured him she was fine and the two of them set off to shop. She found herself putting more energy into shopping than she planned. The alternative was worrying about what would happen that evening or remembering the unhappy days after Zuko left. Mai found a present for Ty Lee, a garish, rainbow-colored mechanical acrobat that would tumble when wound up. She found a present for her uncle, a wildly inaccurate picture of the Boiling Rock, painted by an artist who had clearly never been there, which showed prisoners screaming as they flailed in steaming waters. She did not find anything on her mother's list worth buying, but purchased a few small items just to prove she tried. A set of pai sho tiles decorated with figures from Fire Nation mythology, a dark wood scroll case with a phoenix carved on the lid, and a pair of small, stand-up picture frames made of polished bloodstone. Her father bought a pair of fluffy, white koala sheep slippers for himself, which her mother would say were horrible. She did not look for anything for Azula--the Princess did not expect or appreciate souvenirs.
After the shopping was done, Mai returned to the hotel while her father went to the Governor's house to meet the Chancellor and the Chairman. She spotted a chip in one of her nails, so she filed and re-painted them. She rummaged through her clothes, wondering what to wear to dinner with her old boyfriend who may not want to see her and his uncle she barely knew. She sighed and decided to wear her regular clothes.
At seven, she found the officer who would escort her to the ship in the hotel lobby. The walk downhill wasn't long and she become nervous as she approached the dock. She reminded herself that whatever happened, it would at least not be as boring as sitting in her hotel room alone all night.
Zuko's uncle was waiting for her on deck, but Zuko himself was not. General Iroh said, "I am sorry to say that Prince Zuko is indisposed. I'm afraid you will be stuck with the company of an old man."
"When you say 'indisposed,' you mean he's brooding in his room, right?"
"Yes, I do."
Mai sighed. "If he really doesn't want to see me, I won't bother him."
"I would not say that. We must be patient with my nephew. He is sometimes unsure of what he wants himself right now."
"Well, Zuko can do what he likes. I'm eating dinner."
"That is the spirit." General Iroh held out his arm to show her to the dining room. He apologized for the appearance of the ship, since there were currently repairs underway, and assured her that the work had ended for the night.
Mai had been intimidated by Zuko's uncle because of his reputation as the Dragon of the West, although he was always friendly to herself and Ty Lee the few times they had seen him. Now, she discovered that he was as courteous to his guests as he was reported to be ferocious to his enemies. The food was excellent--clearly the ship had a first-rate cook--and the dining room had all the familiar comforts she would expect at home. But the notable part of the experience was that General Iroh made honest effort to engage her in conversation.
Most of the old military men Mai had dined with either dominated the conversation or said nothing at all. But the General seemed genuinely interested in talking with her. She had been raised not to speak unless spoken to and, although she did not strictly follow the letter of that law as she got older, the spirit had become a way of life. Sometimes she didn't speak when she was spoken to and she'd discovered that often her interlocutor seemed not to notice she hadn't replied. But General Iroh was a good listener as well as a skilled speaker. She found herself talking much more freely to him than she had to anyone in a long time.
She described the changes at home in the past two years--new government buildings, new gardens, new shops--and passed on some choice bits of court news. She told him about her new brother and how big a change it had been for everyone in the family. He empathized with her situation, which surprised her but made sense on reflection. He had been even older when his only sibling was born. She'd heard that Zuko's grandmother had a series of miscarriages and stillbirths between her two sons, all kept hidden from the public. She was curious about the General's past, but did not ask questions that would likely be uncomfortable when he had been so kind to her. Neither of them spoke of Zuko. It didn't feel right to her to talk about him behind his back on his own ship. Also, if he had some way of eavesdropping on them, she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was a topic of conversation.
The pai sho tournament came up in discussion. When she mentioned she played, General Iroh invited her to a match and she accepted. Zuko may be hiding from her, but she was having a surprisingly good time with his uncle. The General won the game easily, as she expected. She was a decent player, but she could tell early on that he was a master. Still, it was interesting to see his unorthodox strategy and she felt she'd learned something about the game.
After the match, they had tea, which General Iroh brewed himself. As the night deepened, it became obvious Zuko wouldn't emerge. She was getting tired and it was late enough that her father's meeting should be ending, if it hadn't already, so she decided to return to the hotel.
The General walked her back. "I am sorry my nephew did not join us," he said. "He missed a lovely evening."
Mai sighed. "Tell him I just wanted to say hello. Tell him--tell him there are people at home who miss him."
"I think he would appreciate hearing that."
General Iroh bid her farewell. Mai returned to the suite and found that her father was not back yet. She laid down on her bed. She had an enjoyable evening, but her questions and confusion about Zuko remained. She thought about his uncle's call for patience with him, and wondered if she should attempt to see him again. She stretched her arms and legs, staring at the ceiling. She decided she would try once more, but not tomorrow. She had her pride and refused to spend the rest of her time in Sozin's Bay chasing him. If he truly did not want to see her, if the bond between them had been severed by time apart and suffering not shared, then there was nothing she could do but mourn the loss. But if he was avoiding her out of an exaggerated sense of propriety, well, they were in the wrong place to be worried about what was proper.
She rolled onto her side, looking out the window onto the dark harbor. She did miss him. Her mother said she would find herself another boy before she knew it, but her mother was wrong.
--End Chapter Five
Chapter Six: Honorable and Right