Kai had a headache. Not a hangover; ironically enough, it was as close to the opposite of a hangover as one could ever achieve while still including abject misery and severe irritation. If anything, the swordsman was overdosing on sobriety. For the first time in a very long while the edges of the world were sharp and hard, compliments of the blasted plain water he had drunk all the previous day- just in case. There was a place for trusting in luck, and a place for planning ahead, and Kai practiced both. But damn if he didn’t regret the necessity on occasion.

Now, his headache had a very specific cause, and that cause was Minsheng. The scrawny, loudmouthed chicken-pig actually had the gall to demand why he had let the boy escape. Ordinarily Kai was not the sort of person who put much stock in abstract concepts like altruism. Even his time in the army had been basic preservation- it soundly beat the alternative. Some things, however, even an honestly self-serving man knew just weren’t done. And the petulant runt was pissing him off.

“Let me get this straight. You want me to feel guilty you don’t have blood on your hands?”

The entire assembly froze, dead silent, and Kai continued.

“I understand this might be a mite difficult for your limited intelligence to comprehend, but I did you a favor, little man. I’m doing you a favor now, sticking around.”

“I paid you good money-"

“Money has no allegiance, good or bad. And you”, Kai pushed one calloused finger against the puffed chest, “broke contract when you decided to attack an exhausted teen in my employ. Who, I may add, upheld his end of the deal by protecting your miserable hides. He kept his word, you didn’t. Simple as that. I have no obligation to stay, but fortunately for you sorry lot it’s near the end of the trail anyway. Plus you have kids, and I have standards.”

“That Firebender-"

“Used himself as bait. Or didn’t you notice that part? I wonder what you thought bludgeoning him to death with rocks would accomplish, exactly. Did you think it would ease your pain? Restore your homes and livelihoods, bring your dead back to life?”

The swordsman’s calm drawl slipped into scathing mockery, and he spat on the ground at Minsheng’s feet. The smaller man stepped back, his face twisting from incredulity to outrage.

“You- you’re on their side! You’re a bleeding Black Flame sympathizer-"

The accusation faltered as Kai’s hand closed around Minsheng’s throat, not hard enough to cause damage but tight enough to scare. The much larger, much stronger, and much angrier man shoved the smaller against the side of the nearest wagon. Kai had served his country faithfully and had the scars to prove it. More importantly, no one besmirched his name and got away with it. He might be a selfish ne’er-do-well but by the Spirits he was an honest one.

“I’ve had just about enough of you,” he hissed, teeth clenched. “I understand that you all feel real set upon by the evils of the world, but I can guaran-damn-tee you I have seen worse.” Kai stepped back, lip curling as he surveyed the camp. “I don’t care what you’ve suffered. I have no sympathy for bloodthirsty cowards who seek to relieve their own pitiful misery through human sacrifice.”

Kai didn’t particularly care if his words made an impression, but judging by the dawning horror on a number of faces at least some of the group felt them hit home.

“But- he’s a Firebender…”

Kai shrugged. “Bleeds red like everybody else.”

“Says the Fire Nation lackey,” Minsheng spat, one hand held to his throat. “Hell, the little freak is probably a spy.”

Kai laughed at that, loud and hard. “A spy?” he gasped, wiping his eyes. “With that face?” He suddenly went serious. “No.”

“We’re supposed to just take your word for that?”

“Considering I’m the only person here with military training, yeah. But if you really need me to spell it out for you, he’s simply too remarkable to make a useful agent. Makes a damn fine distraction, though. Now unless you have anything else to waste my time, the sun is up and daylight don’t exactly store. ”

Approximately half the camp got the hint and moved to pack up, only to be stopped by Minsheng’s imperious counter-command.

Kai pressed his lips together and smiled icily, leaning forward right into the shorter man’s face. “I really hate having to repeat myself, but I don’t take orders from you little man. Furthermore, you aren’t in charge anymore. From now on, I am. Understand?”

“This is mutiny!”

“You really are that dumb, aren’t you? Mutiny refers to a conspiracy of two or more people within a larger group to seize control from a superior officer. Usually happens on ships, with sailors. This is called “relieving you of command”. And if you don’t understand why I’m taking over this sorry outfit, in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m the one who knows where to go and I’m the one wearing a big damn sword. Soon as we reach town you’ll be rid of me, but until then what I say goes. Now pack it up and MOVE OUT.”

They might obey grudgingly, but obey they did. As Kai returned to his interrupted preparations one of the refugees approached him cautiously. He recognized her as the mother with the little boy who couldn’t take a hint.

“Why didn’t you try to stop them last night? You could have. You could have made them listen…”

Kai shook his head. “Wouldn’t have worked last night. Wouldn’t have had the same effect. Didn’t reach all of ‘em anyway. Besides,” he turned to cinch the girth on his saddle one notch tighter, “it’s better that the boy is a far from those buzzard-wolves as possible. And I don’t need any more blood on my hands.”

They hadn’t gotten very far before someone noticed the odd plume of smoke behind them. Rather than spreading into the wide haze that heralded a wildfire, it stayed a thick black column on the horizon and after several tense moments thinking his mind was playing tricks with perspective Kai realized he wasn’t imagining things; the smoke was advancing. Against the wind, no less, and at the current rate the convoy had no hope of outrunning it.

“It’s Fire Nation, isn’t it?” A frightened voice called out. “One of their infernal machines.”

“Probably.” Kai agreed. “It’s possible they’re headed elsewhere. We should keep going regardless. No point wasting daylight.”

“But what if it’s coming for us?”

He shrugged.

“Not a hell of a lot to do. If they pass us by, well and good riddance. If not, we’ll deal with that when it happens.”

It soon became obvious that the Fire Nation whatever-it-was definitely was following them, and gaining fast. This ought to be interesting, the swordsman thought as the source of the smoke plume crested a ridge into sight and thundered toward them. The machine looked something like the great public monorail of Ba Sing Se, only shorter, made of metal and propelled on treads. It flattened a path as it went, knocking trees from its path and flattening lesser vegetation under the plow-like spike at its front.

The great metal beast ground to a halt beside the caravan, hissing steam, and a door split from the side of the middle section to lower into a ramp. The thick steel plating settled against the ground with a resonant thud, and the crowd recoiled. Outlined in the open doorway stood three adolescent girls, the foremost dressed in deep, blood red silk and bearing her country’s unmistakable three- pointed flame in her immaculately arranged topknot. One white hand rested on her hip, and her full, painted lips curved in a faint smirk.

Princess Azula, I presume?

Kai took a moment to study the two figures flanking the Fire Lord’s daughter. The rumors had mentioned the ruthless prodigy, but not similarly aged companions.

The girl on the princess’s right was tall and willowy and the practical cut of her clothes suggested that despite her pallid skin she was no soft court lady. She had a long face, thin nose and even thinner lips pressed in an impassive line. Her face held no more expression than a mask, and that’s exactly what it was. Behind that façade her pale eyes burned, but gave no indication of intention. Kai noted absently that she appeared to be wearing army boots.

The girl on the left seemed the complete opposite. Her face, and indeed her entire figure, was round and filled with curves. She wore her hair in a simple braid at the crown of her head, her extremely pink clothes boasted a childish playfulness at odds with the maturity of her stature and her wide grey eyes filled an astonishing amount of her face. She had a small, almost button nose and a wide easy smile disconcertingly out of place considering the present company and setting.

Kai didn’t bother wondering how the two were bound to the Princess- the important (and at least to him, obvious) part was that were indeed bound to her service. He turned his attention back to their master.

Her Royal Highness surveyed the assembled refugees with open disdain, the refined features of her face marred by the haughty tilt of her chin and the chill in her brilliant gold eyes.

“My my my,” she purred, examining her long, pointed fingernails and then buffing them on the spotless silk of her shirt. Her voice dripped with malice, but also a predator’s amusement. This one liked to play with her food. “Whatever have we here? Refugees? How sad. Of course, if your people weren’t worthless dirt to begin with, you might have held on to your homes. What a shame.”

A nameless voice made brave by the human wall hiding him challenged, “We don’t have anything left for you to take!”

Azula’s smirk grew wider. “Oh, that’s not true…” She let her gaze linger on one of the scrawny kids clenching grubby hands into his mother’s skirt and let the implication sink in. “You still have a great deal I could take. However, I’m feeling generous today, so I’ll make you a deal. Either you tell me everything I want to know or I leave your charred corpses for the crows to fight over. Your choice.”

There was a subdued murmur of assent. What else could they do? The predatory smile grew wider.

“I’m looking for a fugitive.”

The right-hand girl drew a scroll from inside her wide sleeves and handed it over without any visual prompt. Kai caught a flash of steel and dull black leather on her wrist. The Princess unrolled the scroll with a flick of her hand and Kai’s thought process was instantly derailed from wondering just what purpose the mask-faced girl served.

The old man in the top half seemed only vaguely familiar, and obviously wasn’t the subject of interest. It was the second face on the wanted poster that struck him, and everyone else. A collective gasp rose from the crowd.

The boy’s face was rounder, his clothes unmistakably Fire Nation and the scar made painfully evident by the partially shaven head, but the flat ink painting was without a doubt the same person Kai knew as Shen.

His mind quickly flipped through all the bits and clues he’d picked up about the boy. Wealthy background. Trained fighter. Paranoid as all hell. Firebender. Given the new information, and the situation in general, Kai’s reaction was understandably eloquent:

“Huh.”
                    ***
Zuko had no idea where he was, and glad for it. He had abandoned the road in a rocky area and could only pray he hadn’t left a trail in his reckless flight. It didn’t make sense for Kai to give him an avenue of escape only to track him down later, except it kind of did. He shook his head. He actually liked the enigmatic mercenary, but that didn’t mean he could afford to trust the man.

The secondary burst of adrenaline had lasted long enough to get him out of immediate danger, and after a fitful rest he had set out again vaguely east, only stopping when the ostrich-horse tired. He knew sooner or later he’d have to stop and consider his next move, patch himself up. Part of him really didn’t want to know the extent of the damage, but when he found a likely stream he dismounted, taking care not to let Help drink too soon. He couldn’t afford to lose him, even if the bird was useless in a fight. He tethered the feathered beast near the water and sat down heavily on the bank.

It’s not fair. I was trying to help. I was just trying to help…

He shook his head and stood up again, swaying unsteadily. This was not the time to drown in self-pity. He had to keep his head, pull through.

Yeah. Like always. What does it say that I actually have a set response for shit like this happening to me?

That you aren’t as stupid as most people think. An actual moron would freeze up and not know what to do. You do. So do it.

He unfastened the saddlebags awkwardly, nearly dropping them on the ground before sinking down beside the battered leather. His clothes were stiff with sweat and blood and he flinched as the simple process of removing his shirt re-opened the gash on his arm. He pulled a change of clothes from the pack and sank into the water.

The stream was fairly deep, and deliciously refreshing compared to the muggy mountain air. He scrubbed away as much of the travel grime as possible, which left him not as clean as he would have liked as aching muscles, assorted bruises and general exhaustion all took their toll on mobility and strength. Still, it was better than nothing.

He dumped Hoshi’s medicines on the ground, slathering numbing salve on the aching mass that was his chest. It hurt to breathe, but since it wasn’t a tight stinging kind of hurt he decided nothing was broken. Thank the Spirits for small miracles. Injuries treated and bound (he had to use his teeth to tie the bandage on his arm) he shoved the whole mess back in the bag to sort out later. He pushed the bag aside and tugged open its mate, spilling the contents onto the ground. An unfamiliar object rolled out and bumped against his leg, something vaguely bottle-shaped and wrapped in crumpled paper.

Face knit in puzzlement, he gripped his fingers around the cool cylinder and picked it up, surprised by the weight. Somewhat stunned by the appearance of an object mixed in his things that clearly didn’t belong there, he unwrapped it to reveal a bottle of baijiu, a scribbled note and a hand drawn map. Zuko felt himself shake in incredulous laughter as he read the first line.

You sure make an impression on people.
Stick to the lesser known paths- I’ve marked the caravan route in red so you can avoid it. If you’re still going to Ba Sing Se, head for the Weeping Demon in the lower ring near the southern gate. Owner knows me, won’t ask questions. Meet you there- got to lose the baggage first. Keep your head down. Good luck.

The paper crinkled in his hand, and Zuko let it fall to the ground. The paranoid part of his mind was louder again, and it kept insisting not to be fooled by appearances, that it was a trap. Either the map would lead him straight into an Army encampment, or the tavern owner was actually in the pay of the City Guard, or the information was good but once he was settled in Ba Sing Se and Kai caught up with him the mercenary would take advantage of Zuko’s lowered guard and cash in then.

Why couldn’t anything be simple?

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes pressed shut. Nothing ever came easily, but he was used to that by now, wasn’t he? And it wasn’t like he had any sort of plan in mind anyway. He could use the information to get into the city at least. The population could surely hide one scarred teenager, and he could still keep his ear to the ground. Sighing, he turned his attention back to the basic necessity of food.  Help nudged his beak against Zuko’s shoulder and settled to the ground. Still stuffing his face, the boy let himself relax into the feathered mass behind him, considering.

On a certain level he wasn’t surprised in the least that Help had returned to the caravan after his untimely desertion- the bird’s reasoning had probably paralleled Zuko’s own: get out of danger, head for safety. Thinking the caravan would remain safe territory was very faulty logic on his part, but it wasn’t like he’d had any alternatives.

And he didn’t really have a better alternative now.  He swallowed a mouthful of half-chewed bread and ran a hand through his hair. Help whuffled, and Zuko regarded him for a moment before reaching out to scratch the soft feathers just above the beak.

“I guess we’re still going to Ba Sing Se after all. Try not to run off on me again, huh?  I’m trusting your instincts on this, bird brain.”

He settled back against his living pillow and stared at the blue vault of the sky until he couldn’t stand the brilliance. Then he closed his eyes, and within minutes the soothing rise and fall of the beast’s breathing lulled him to sleep. Help nipped at his hair and then laid his head on the ground, curled around the boy.
                        ***

Any fighter worth the energy to spit knew you wouldn’t last long if you couldn’t recover from an unexpected development, so it didn’t take long for the shock to pass. Actually, the new information made far more sense than Kai especially cared to realize. The Princess held the poster perfectly still, the skin around her eyes tight as she surveyed the reactions before her. Her imperious voice filled the clearing, deadly calm.

“I know he was traveling with you, and I know he was in the area just yesterday. So don’t bother trying to deny it.”

As the only person present visibly armed Kai knew he’d get singled out for attention soon enough, and decided to beat the arrogant Royal to the punch. Nothing messed with the power-mad like “freely cooperating” before they had a chance for coercion. He crossed his arms over his chest so his hand wouldn’t fall to its usual rest on the hilt of his sword and lifted a single finger in a minimal wave to catch Her Highness’s attention, keeping his attitude relaxed.

“Yeah, he was here. Left last night, though.”

“Heading which way?”

“Down the road, initially.” Kai casually scratched the day-old growth on his cheek. In all the mess earlier he’d forgotten to shave. “Of course, he could have turned south, or doubled back in the dark. Hard to tell.”

“And you have no idea which he would choose.”

Kai shrugged. “Can’t read minds, Princess.”

She thrust the notice back at her vassal, who casually smoothed the creases left by the princess’s grip and rolled it into a neat tube. Azula strode down the ramp and stopped within striking distance. Kai watched her advance and decided she’d probably be a very pretty girl if she quit trying to act like she was already a grown woman.

“Talk to me,” Azula commanded.

“Waayeeell,” he drawled. “The kid kept to himself, mostly. Carried his own weight. More than that, can’t say I par-tic-u-lar-ly cared.”

She searched his face, gold eyes boring into his brown as though she could compel answers by the intensity of her gaze alone. He didn’t look away, didn’t even sweat.

“No,” Azula sneered at last, “I don’t suppose you would have.”

Kai suppressed a smile. That’s right, you arrogant bitch. No lesser mortal could possibly fool you.

She turned away, and then snapped back around, one long fingered hand rising in a graceful arc to slap his face. Kai had to admit she had a pretty good arm- for a teenaged girl. Frankly, his mother had smacked him harder for stealing moon peaches from the neighbors.  The princess simply did not possess the muscle mass to back up her predatory nature. Of course, she was a Firebending prodigy and as blood trickled down his face and his cheek started to sting Kai realized she also had claws. Azula held his chin with the tips of her nails and turned his face.

“You wouldn’t hold out on me, would you?”

“Told you, he kept to himself. Didn’t draw attention, other than that damn huge scar.”

An oddly satisfied smile twisted her face at the mention of the disfigurement and she released him.

What happened to your face?

Firebender… I opened my mouth when I should have kept it shut.

Kai’s fingers tightened over his arm as the exchange replayed in his head. He hadn’t paid much heed when he had heard the Fire Nation’s Crown Prince had gotten himself kicked out of favor, hadn’t thought too hard about the implication that the Princess was hunting the Avatar and “Traitors to the Throne”. He wasn’t surprised the Firelord’s heir apparent was serving her father’s bidding, but realizing the little creep derived satisfaction from her own brother’s misfortune- that was just sick. All the more reason to be as unhelpful as possible, even if his debt to the kid was technically paid.

Despite the earlier tirade he couldn’t even pretend surprise when Minsheng pushed forward, swelled with self-importance and all but gushing to provide information to the Fire Nation Princess. Typical self-righteous hypocrite.

“He was using a fake name, Your Worship. Something unremarkable. Not Li, though. I’d have remembered another Li. Chin maybe? Or Chan? Something common like that.”

Kai couldn’t help the small surge of vindication as Azula rounded on the bootlicking fink, eyebrows drawn.

“ I do not recall giving you permission to speak, worm,” she sneered, and stalked back to the ramp in disgust.

That Zuko had used a false identity was blatantly obvious, and if he had the forethought to adopt a cover name he could choose another just as easily. It was much more effective to search by physical description. The princess considered the cowering herd; the mercenary bothered her. He should keep his place. The fool didn’t give her due respect.

Then again, what did she expect from common riffraff? Azula sniffed- she would never lower herself to the depths her brother had sunk. It was disgraceful, really. His actions shamed the entire line. More like the entire country.

“Let’s go, ladies,” she murmured.

“Where?” Mai inquired, her voice dead flat.

“East, of course. Ba Sing Se is the last real obstacle to domination, and we know the Avatar is in the city. Besides, my brother is far too straightforward to change tactics unless he absolutely has too. He lacks- cunning. And where else could he possibly hide?”

“Point,” Mai agreed. Azula sighed, and then turned to Ty Lee. The bubbly acrobat snapped her attention away from the assembly.

“Inform the engineer we will be departing immediately.” The princess flicked her gaze back at the cowering peasants and sneered. “There’s nothing here worth my time.”

“Okay!” Ty Lee gushed, and bounded toward the head of the tank–train. Mai and Azula lingered at the top of the ramp for a moment. Keeping her voice unaffected, Mai briefly glanced toward the refugees and murmured, “You’re letting them go just so you don’t have to hear about it from Ty Lee, aren’t you?”

Azula rolled her eyes and waved a perfectly manicured hand.

“What happens to a handful of unwashed commoners is hardly my concern.”

Mai took that as a yes. Listening to the spastic acrobat mope in enforced proximity was hardly a thrilling prospect.

Azula abruptly changed the subject. “Have you finished the assignment I gave you?”

The princess had been far from pleased to learn that her useless brother had bested the Rough Rhinos single-handedly. Such a humiliating defeat shamed the entire military effort. They also had very little to offer in the way of intelligence, although it was somewhat intriguing to discover that not only had Zuko improved in Bending technique, he also developed significant skill with dual blades.

Given the princess’s mental acuity and access to high security intelligence reports, it hadn’t taken long to add the pieces together and discern the identity of the mysterious Blue Spirit. Upon realizing her brother’s audacity Azula had momentarily expressed something as close to admiration as she was capable of bestowing on anyone but her exalted father and then promptly reverted to her usual contempt. It was a valiant effort to let nothing stand in his way, but as with every other endeavor her brother undertook, ultimately futile. Zuko just didn’t have what it took to succeed. He was, and had always been, a born failure.

Although superfluous since Zuko had already been deemed a traitor both for dereliction of duty and continuing to resist arrest for that crime, Azula sent a detailed report of her conclusions. No one could ever accuse the princess of not being thorough. So when the Rough Rhinos offered the few items they had obtained during their attempted capture of the Avatar and his allies, she had curled her lip but accepted them, and promptly delegated the necessary examination to Mai. The taciturn noble had in turn ignored everything but the battered journal.

Mai had never understood the appeal of such customs. What kind of moron wrote down their thoughts so someone else could read them? It wasn’t as if a sheet of paper had the ability to hold one’s confidences. True, nobles often composed memoirs later in life, and it was rumored the Royal family kept a hidden archive of personal accounts written to detail the events of their reign with the logic that future leaders might benefit. As far as Mai could tell, if such a store existed no one consulted it, since both Fire Lord Ozai and Fire Lord Azulon (may he rest in Agni’s embrace) instituted policies based off of general traditions and personal whim rather than any written precedent.

Not that Mai judged that. It would be unforgivably presumptuous to question the authority of the head of state. The Fire Lord was the Fire Nation, and his word was law. That supremacy was not only accepted as a matter of course but actively revered.

As the close personal friend of the princess, Mai had a slightly different perspective on the Royal family than most, but still had to admit that even hearing Azula refer to the monarch as “Dad” couldn’t dispel the tangible air of power that surrounded him. To put it bluntly, Fire Lord Ozai scared the shit out of her. He didn’t seem quite- human.

Or maybe she only felt that way because at age twelve she had just started to consider the possibility that if Zuko really liked her back and everything went perfectly the intimidating figure might become her father-in-law… only to have that reality yanked from under her dreamer’s feet like a magician’s rug when he maimed his very flesh and blood with his own hands before throwing him out of the country altogether. And then charged him with a task that was painfully, transparently intended to either kill him off or keep him conveniently “occupied” for the rest of his life. No one actually expected the Avatar to return, after all.  

And if Mai ever wrote those thoughts down and they were discovered, she’d be toast.

She was not bitter. It was just the nature of the world she lived in. No point investing emotion on foregone conclusions. She didn’t waste emotions when Azula took her for granted, either. She merely complied. It was, after all, the only reasonable course of action. So at the mention of her current “project” Mai only sighed.  

“I haven’t finished reading yet. It’s fairly tedious.”

“I’d hardly expect otherwise. I have to admit I’m surprised the barbarian is even literate. Still, even the musings of a lower intellect can prove useful.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Which is why I gave it to you and not Ty Lee. She’d have gotten distracted too easily. Will you be joining us in the forward car?”

“No. It’s easier to focus without interuptions.”

“A point. I’ll leave you to it, then,” Azula replied, leaving Mai alone for the time being. She stood back as the ramp settled into place and sealed against the wall.

What Azula meant, of course, was that Ty Lee, with her big heart, depressingly tolerant attitude towards the lower strata of humanity and obvious crush on the writer’s brother, might be swayed to sympathy by what lay on the travel-stained pages. Azula had deemed examination necessary but not important enough to handle personally, and therefore entrusted it to Mai.

This was a crucial miscalculation. To be sure the first few pages had been nothing short of painful. Mai was, after all, a well-bred noblewoman despite her unusual interests and abilities, had received the best education money could buy, and held a worldview consistent with that station. The girl’s calligraphy, she noted in her normal detached manner, was careful and even but essentially primitive, as could only be expected.  

The journal started as a very basic ledger, a tally of purchases and donations that indicated both the girl’s unfamiliarity balancing a budget and the intelligence required to realize such an attempt was necessary.  So the Southern peasant had a brain, even if her penmanship was atrocious. Then a little way in the entries suddenly changed to something much more personal.

I can’t believe we finally made it. The city is so beautiful, and there are so many people. It’s good to be back around familiar Water Tribe things, even if it does hurt a little. I know the Southern Tribe never had a central city like this, but thinking about home, how small the village is now compared to the stories Gran Gran tells, makes me realize how much we lost. How much the Fire Nation took from us. Chief Arnook seems nice. I can’t wait to meet the Water Bending Master. I’m finally going to learn from a proper teacher!

Sokka has absolutely no chance with the Princess.

Upon reaching these accounts Mai had simply sighed, spread a clean sheet of parchment on the table, readied ink and brush and continued, carefully analyzing the entries for useful information that she wrote out in clear, concise strokes for Azula to review. She read on, emotionally disaffected by the author’s tribulations.

Water Tribe exhibits sexist practices, separate Bending traditions for men and women, she wrote. The Avatar is vulnerable while accessing the Spirit World through meditation. Confirmed that Zhao succeeded killing the Moon in mortal form, replacement form granted by self-sacrifice of tribal princess “Yue”. T. Iroh possibly involved in spiritual conversion. Confirmed T. Iroh attacked A. Zhao and task force. Avatar or Waterbender in possession of water from the oasis, rumored special properties. Attempted coercion of T. Zuko by Waterbender. Waterbender partly trained in healing, extent of abilities unclear…

As she continued, Mai’s eyes narrowed, not in speculation or a reaction to dim light (the compartment was well illuminated) but a growing irritation. She pressed her lips together and tightened her grip on the brush, ignoring the sensation. She scanned the girl’s petty ranting about Zuko’s uncooperative nature, noting the frequent but frustratingly vague references to some kind of plan involving the exiled prince as well as the tantalizing third-hand hints of Zuko’s changed character. He seemed so…angry. She only wished she could tell how much was the person he had become in the last three years and how much was due to circumstance.

Azula did not give you this assignment to speculate about your lost childhood crush. Pull it together.

She managed to regain her focus but the unsettling frustration remained. The last entry written was dated shortly after the first time Mai had encountered the trio in Oma- New Ozai. She grudgingly admitted that the ploy to empty the city of Earth Kingdom residents by feigning illness had a certain undeniable brilliance. Learning it had been the Water Tribe boy’s idea made her reconsider his threat level, and jotted a quick note. The part that really caught her attention, though, was the description of their first meeting. Specifically, the girl’s thoughts regarding Mai’s baby brother.

I understand why Aang returned the boy. We didn’t mean to take him, and it caused no end of trouble, but I can’t help wondering if he wouldn’t have been better off as far from those heartless jackal-sharks as possible. I doubt the ransom note was even real- it was just a trick to lure us into a trap, and we fell for it. Such a sweet little boy deserves better. He’s proof that the people of the Fire Nation aren’t born evil- they learn it. They’re taught it.  Like that girl with all the knives, not even showing the slightest concern for her brother. If she even really was his sister, and that wasn’t just another trick too.

Mai had long ago learned that it was in her best interest not to let on how she felt. There was nothing more dangerous than expressing a strong opinion, or even a passing fancy. Especially around Azula.

Over the years that mask of indifference had become ingrained into her personality. She couldn’t afford to show her interest, and so the interest withered and died. Eventually not showing interest morphed to only expressing disinterest. She had turned herself into an efficient, acerbic machine, and it almost didn’t hurt. Almost, because under the unfeeling front she presented to the dreary world and occasionally believed herself, at her core a spark of genuine emotion remained. And that spark flared from a tiny speck to a raging bonfire.

The Water Tribe girl knew nothing about her or her family. Heartless? Her father had earned the wrath of the Princess herself by putting his son’s safety above the duties of his position. It was far beyond his place to even consider a hostage exchange for that cackling old lunatic, and it was only Mai’s longstanding friendship with Azula and the opportunity provided by the exchange that had protected her parents from charges of criminal incompetence if not outright treason. And this brat dared assume they cared nothing for their child!

The Water Tribe girl had no concept of the deadly game courtiers played their entire lives, with their lives. Azula might be her friend, but Mai was not so much a fool to believe childhood affections afforded her any real protection.  Azula was the Princess first and foremost, Mai’s friend and ally always second. She might veil her orders, but now as always every word that spilled from her painted lips carried the weight of the Dragon Throne. There was not, and never had been, an “Imperial suggestion”.

As for not caring about Tom Tom, well, Mai could hardly be expected to share interests with a toddler but that wasn’t the same thing as indifference. And Azula had exploited the opportunity in more ways than one. Mai could forgive seizing the chance to lay a trap for the Resistance agents. Considering one of them turned out to be the Avatar that was more than justified. Except for the little bit where her “old friend” had also seized the opportunity to test Mai’s loyalty and dedication. At the time Mai had been confident she could gain the upper hand and retrieve the drooling hair-puller, but the message was clear: Azula wanted to make sure Mai would obey her command regardless of any personal attachments. None of which was the peasant’s concern.

All this and more could have flashed though her mind, but it didn’t. She simply couldn’t muster the coherency. Instead the entire response from her trained articulate mind boiled down to a single furious reflex.

How dare she? How dare that dull unwashed barbarian tramp judge her!

Mai often gave the impression of a stone statue, but in the wake of that thought a different kind of stillness spread through her.

Because it is impossible to be hurt by someone’s opinion if you truly consider her beneath you.

It shouldn’t have mattered. The regard of the one common Waterbender shouldn’t have affected Mai at all. Yet somehow it had snuck past the defenses around her heart and struck her to the core. The Waterbender was her inferior, a lowly heathen from the southern wastelands. She was also determined, devoted to her cause and didn’t back down against opposition of superior or unknown strength, which made her a worthy opponent. And she was a teenage girl drafted into a battle that by any reasonable definition ought not to be her responsibility. Why was some half-trained villager from the South Pole facing off against the Fire Nation’s elite? For that matter, why was a civilian noble facing off against the Avatar? Mai was trained in combat, yes, but she wasn’t a soldier. Neither was Katara. Not by a long shot.

Katara.

She was using the girl’s name. She had known it since the spectacular failure of War Minister Qing’s beloved Drill at the outer wall of Ba Sing Se; it was one of the few gains from that encounter, names to add to the descriptions of the Avatar’s companions. The Waterbender was called Katara.  And now Mai was thinking of her as Katara and not simply the Waterbender. Not like a friend, certainly, but just… perhaps… as a peer.

Shaken, Mai had set the ratty pages aside and donned the familiar motions of apathy. She had checked all her knives, oiled and sharpened her favorite blades. Target practice was out, but she practiced releasing those blades into her hands, feeling the comforting familiarity of the projectiles’ weight in her slim fingers.

Now as the tank-train groaned to life she picked the worn pages up again, settled into a corner of the empty car and turned back to the earlier entries where the younger teen had vented her frustrations. The first time through, Mai had been vaguely amused by Zuko’s ability to get under the girl’s skin, but on second reading she was struck by the actual content.

To be sure, Katara had no reference point to gauge the fallen prince’s position, but despite not being able to fully grasp certain harsh realities of court life, or perhaps because of that outside perspective, her observations had an undeniable clarity. She questioned things Mai simply accepted as a matter of course. And then there was also something so very attractive about the girl’s audacity, a quality both shocking and tempting. Mai drew her knees to her chest and leaned toward the lamp, eyes glittering as she read.

Why can’t he understand? How can he think one group of people in the entire world has the right to dictate everyone else’s lives…How can he justify the amount of pain he has caused these past few months? I know Zhao would have done worse, but that doesn’t excuse the damage he caused… Why can’t he understand that his father is wrong?

…sometimes I think he actually isn’t doing it on purpose, like something just isn’t connecting in his head. I’d try Waterbending again but I doubt he’d let me get that close after what happened the first time. I wish I knew why he reacted so violently…

…Duty. It’s always duty with him. Obligation. Missions undertaken and orders followed because it’s expected… Tried something different today, and asked what would have happened if he had succeeded in his blasted “mission”. It almost worked- he kept ducking the issue but finally admitted that whatever happened to Aang -or me or Sokka- “wouldn’t be up to him”. I thought the whole point of chasing Aang was to get back in favor and regain his position as the Prince? What’s the point of any of it if he’s still powerless afterward?

…I wonder sometimes if he actually believes what he’s saying. Everyone has a choice between doing what they’re told or following their own conscience. Either he doesn’t believe in free will or he’s chosen to give up all control of his own life…What makes someone believe nothing they do is their own choice?

In the stillness of the empty room the younger teen’s thoughts seemed to hang in the air and Mai could not get them out of her head. She reread the passage about Omashu, and realized she had missed pieces there, too. It actually made sense that her brother’s abduction had not been intentional -although the Resistance had taken advantage of her father’s panic readily enough which made the issue somewhat moot. But Katara expressed concern that leaving Zuko in Earth Kingdom custody may have been a mistake, and not because of the chance he could escape and cause trouble. Why did the girl care?

Why do I care?

Because it’s Zuko. Because even if she doesn’t understand the million invisible strings holding him, I do. Because I know my place too well. Because I’m not entirely sure I know Azula anymore. Because I’m starting to think I’m not sure of anything.

Mai retrieved her list of notes and read it through, face impassive in the lamplight. Then she carefully opened the glass panel, and caught the edge of the paper alight. She held it out from her body and watched the edges blacken and curl. When the flames licked her fingertips she dropped the last remaining bit to the floor, watched it flare and then scraped the ashes with her boot. The charcoal smudge vanished completely against the dark metal.

She pulled a clean sheet free and smoothed it on the table, readied ink and brush, and filled the blank parchment with smooth, orderly characters. When she had finished she blew across the glistening ink. Although there was no one there to witness it, the expression on her face never faltered.

Never changed at all.

                                ***
At any other time, in any other situation, Kai would never have even noticed the old man drinking tea in the far corner. He looked much like any other weary traveler, if a little old to be making a solitary journey. His robes were patched and dusty and his beard ragged, although the remnant of his hair was pulled into a neat braid. Something about him caught the mercenary’s attention, though, and since he relied on his instincts it only made sense to figure out what, exactly, had attracted that notice.

When the old man turned to accept a refill of steaming tea and smiled gently at the serving girl Kai nearly choked on his drink.

Meeting the exiled prince of the Fire Nation could have been a coincidence. The boy was traveling through the Earth Kingdom incognito, he was bound to run into someone and it happened to be Kai. That mere chance extended to encountering Princess Azula as well, since she was following her “errant” brother. So that could have just been luck, good or ill it was still too early to judge.

Stopping to blunt his mind with very cheap baijiu and running into General Iroh, Dragon of the West and Accused Traitor to the Fire Nation Throne? Not a coincidence. Not following the other two. Not when the poster Her Royal Pain-in-the-Ass had shoved in his face claimed the old man had abetted the Avatar. Not when there had been a shared poster for the old man and his nephew.

There is a subtle but crucial distinction between non-cooperation and actively obstructing someone’s intentions by supporting their opponents. Kai drained what was left of his glass, flinching at the taste, and stood, weaving through the crowd toward the far end of the room.

This has all the makings of a very bad plan.

I know. Isn’t it exciting?

Iroh had waited at the Oasis for over a week, but the Avatar and his companions had not returned. He knew they would not, but couldn’t help hoping. Whatever happened on their journey he wished them well. Then he settled his affairs with the members of his brotherhood and set off for Ba Sing Se. The Order had arranged passage nearly all the way to the ferry, but no one had been available to cover this last stretch. Iroh wasn’t worried; he was perfectly capable of reaching Full Moon Bay on his own. His papers were in order, although he had been less than thrilled with his alias.

Although there had been a spot of excitement precipitating his departure, the trip had progressed mostly uneventfully. As had become ritual in the past five years since his beloved son’s death, Iroh spent the anniversary of Lu Ten’s birthday on a hill with a solitary tree. It was the first time he had held that vigil where he could not be sure Zuko was safely close by and accounted for.

Whenever he could risk it, he checked the pearl dagger. Even when the moon was dark in the sky he could still see the blue nimbus around the blade. Several days ago on the new moon he had woken to discover the blade nearly pulsing with energy, though it eventually dimmed again. It signified- something- but he had no means to decipher that cryptic message. He could almost see the white haired princess holding out her hands and shrugging apologetically.

When the Spirits grant you favors, do not complain that you don’t understand what you are given.

His thoughts were interrupted by a low, insistent voice.

“Sir? This is not somewhere you wish to be just now.”

He lowered his teacup and looked up, noting the slight glaze to the man’s eyes in contrast to the clarity of his words. Not drunk yet, but not entirely sober either. Judging from the exposed scars, this man was no stranger to physical hazard, and he moved with the easy assurance of experience.

“To what do I owe your concern, young man?” The old general’s voice was pleasant but carried a hint of caution. Kai grinned and ran one callused finger under the parallel scabs on his cheek.

“I had the pleasure of meeting your niece, General.”

Iroh’s bushy eyebrows rose swiftly, golden eyes widening in shock. He recovered quickly, though, much to the old man’s credit. He certainly didn’t look like a legendary warrior; short, thick and worn to grey.  He moved with efficiency, however, sliding from his seat and depositing a few coins on the table. It was a shame to waste tea, but…

“Perhaps we should continue this conversation elsewhere,” he suggested, and Kai nodded shortly.

“Why not on the move? I’m supposed to meet your nephew in Ba Sing Se.”

Iroh nearly stumbled, and the young warrior laughed quietly. The old man recovered faster the second time, deftly navigating the packed room and bracing himself (if a little belatedly) for any further earth-shattering revelations.

“If I may be so bold, how is it you happen to have met my nephew?”

“Short version, he helped me deal with a spot of trouble a little while back. Long version, now there’s an interesting story. Keep your head down as we cross the plaza, there’s probably eighty people who could recognize your face and at least half of them don’t like me very much. Blasted ingrates. The kid, well, no offense but the kid attracts trouble like a rotting camelephant carcass gathers vulture-griffons. Fights like a demon, though. S’what caught my eye. Uncanny reflexes.”

Iroh smiled slightly. Unexpected as the man’s appearance might have been, the respect he displayed for Zuko (or at least his skill) warmed the old man’s heart. He listened to the warrior ramble with only half his attention, discreetly scanning the crowd and his unconventional companion. The man knew his business; the effortless way he kept up a seemingly innocuous conversation in the middle of a crowded town while feeding the retired General salient details suggested natural talent, experience, or both. Not a man to dismiss, certainly.

“…So now I need a new job. I can go back when things cool down, of course, although to be perfectly honest I could use a change of pace.”

“You are sure this-rendezvous- is certain?”

“Not at all. Absolutely.” The swordsman laughed. “You must know him better- would he change course now?”

Iroh sighed and ran a hand over his face. Between everything he had learned from Katara (and Sokka and Aang but mostly Katara) and the details just provided he wasn’t sure how well he actually did know his nephew. Some of the things he had heard gave him hope, while others were frankly worrisome. Or were the details he thought recent developments old news he simply hadn’t been in a position to notice?  He shook his head. There were some things about Zuko he was sure would never change, and more often than not once he set his mind on something he’d follow through.

“Mmmm. It’s unlikely.”

“You hope.”

“As do you.” It wasn’t quite a question.

Kai shrugged.

“He caught an arrow meant for my heart, old man. That’s not the sort of thing I forget.”

“You’re offering me your help to repay blood-debt, then?”

“Naw. Settled that when I returned the favor.”

They walked in silence for a while. Then, without breaking stride;

“The little bitch pisses me off. Thought I’d return that favor, too.”

The old man smiled.