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A peaceful cozy silence was floating across the flower shop interrupted only by the murmur of a small decorative waterfall in the corner. Mai sighed. That was another slow lonely shift. No annoying stupid customers, no auntie Mura to distract her, no Tom-Tom to draw all her attention to keeping him from destroying pots and expensive bouquets of panda lilies, even no Ty Lee to chirp on the background all last news in and out capital.
Only Mai and different colorful plants around her.
The work here was dull and boring, and from time to time was driving her absolutely insane, but in Mai’s opinion to be surrounded by silent flowers still was far better than spending whole days in her mother’s company and listening to endless lectures.
Besides, not so long time ago Mai had thought it up to bring with herself scrolls and some books, so she could keep herself busy with reading stories and plays in days like that.
She was in the middle of the play where a main character was confessing his undying love to his beloved in the most cheesy, nauseous way which made her snort and wrinkle her nose, when the loud sounds from the outside interrupted a blissful illusion. Mai raised her head up and regretted it immediately.
Outside the windows was a crowd, cheerful and noisy, and there was a big bright red palanquin with golden frames and the symbol of their nation floating through the street.
“Oh spirits,” Mai muttered to herself and quickly postponing the scroll and smoothed her apron, she bended down and hoisted the biggest flower arrangement on the counter.
One spray rose, two, three, fifteen, eighteen, she counted in mind going through flowers and hoping that the palanquin would soon disappear from her view. It could be just his usual ride out, couldn’t it?
As it turned out a few moments later, it couldn’t. He appeared at the entrance of the shop, royal and mighty from his topknot to feet, and Mai hit the urge to roll her eyes. Their gazes met for the brief moment. Mai’s heart stung as always.
“Fire Lord Zuko,” she greeted him with a proper fire nation bow, then couldn’t help but tease, “What an honor!”
“I need your help!” He blurted out, rushing toward. “And I swear I would never disturb you in other circumstances, but it seems that I have no choice.”
Mai perked an eyebrow, watching expectantly, while he continued to mumble. “We are still friends, right? You are my friend, my true friend? Because Aang and Katara flew away to Omashu to visit some old tunnel and I really don’t want to interrupt their romantic trip…”
“Zuko.”
“And Sokka’s at home with his father, and Toph is busy with her school.”
“Zuko!”
“And even Suki and Ty Lee went to Kyoshi Island, and it seems there is no one in the capital right now…”
“Zuko!” She raised her voice. “Breathe!”
He nodded harshly, then finally took a deep breath. Mai felt how his nervousness started to hover above her.
“What happened?” She asked calmly.
Zuko swallowed, avoiding her concerned gaze, and confessed with a thin voice. “That’s my council. They… they want me to marry.”
Mai’s entire body froze. He can’t be serious. “So?”
“So, I beg you to help me to choose,” he finished lamely, still not looking at her.
She pushed the roses’ arrangement farther up the counter, and sighed tiredly. Mai couldn’t believe they had this conversation in the first place.
“Agni, Zuko,” she couldn’t. She just couldn’t. “Even hypothetically, how can anyone choose your bride except from you? Doesn’t it depend on your…” Mai lingered, trying to find a proper word, “… inclinations? Affections?”
“I don’t know!” He exclaimed nervously. “They just gave me that enormous list of noble ladies and set the dates, and I don’t know any of them, and there is no one here from whom I can get any advice about it, and…”
“Zuko!” Mai cut him off once more, irritated, and continued with a falsely peaceful tone. “Of all the people from the entire four nations, you came with this to me?”
“I’ve told you, already,” he snapped defensively. “All my friends are not in the capital right now. Only you.”
“And we, of course, are best of friends,” she replied sarcastically.
Zuko sent her a hurt glance. “At least we were. Once.” He said quietly, and Mai needed all her restraint to ignore the painful sting in her chest. Yes, they were. They were more than friends.
“Alright. I got your point,” she admitted coldly. “But what do you want from me?”
“Just… talk about it? Maybe some encouragement?” Zuko smiled sheepishly, Mai wanted to slap his stupid royal face.
“If you need encouragement you should wait for Ty Lee,” she turned away, closing the conversation. “Goodbye, Zuko.”
“Wait, Mai!” She heard his pleading voice from behind. “You’ve said it by yourself. That no matter what you’ll always have my back. And you know me better than anyone else, you’re like family for me. Please, Mai.”
She clenched her fists. Damn him, him and his incredible ability to remember all her remarks.
“And you… you also said we should move on.”
Mai turned around, hissing fiercely. “You call it moving on?”
“Sounds like moving on for me,” Zuko shrugged, then catching her angry glare and winced slightly.
Mai stared at his features sharply for a few long moments, weighing all risks. “Fine. Whatever. But with some conditions.”
He nodded eagerly. “Sure. Anything.”
Mai rolled her eyes and reached for the ink and piece of paper from the shelf behind the counter. “You’ll come only in my working hours on my working days,” she muttered, carefully writing down the numbers, “you’ll not speak until spoken to, any soul won’t know we communicate again, and for Agni’s sake, Zuko,” she put down the ink and handed him a paper, “next time wear something that doesn’t scream you live from our taxes.”
He beamed at her, taking the note; a wide happy grin stretched his lips. “Deal.”
Watching him leaving in the palanquin, Mai already regretted she agreed. Well, at least it won’t be boring.
***
Zuko showed up three days later, in his citizen robes with a cloak, and gave her a small smile, staying at the corner and pretending to watch bromeliads, while Mai was counting a change to the last customers. He waited until they left.
“Well?” She asked only slightly curiously, taking up the next bouquet. Zuko let an exasperated groan and rested his head on the counter.
It was more than an awful date, Mai thought when he retold her all story with details. It was a horrible one.
“No offense, but you’re an idiot,” she said, eyes still on flowers in front of her while her fingers were tying stems with ribbons.
“People always say ‘no offense’ and then tell you something offensive,” he replied, getting all pouty.
“Zuko,” Mai sighed patiently, raising head and meeting his confused gaze. “She wanted you to kiss her.”
“Oh,” it was almost comical when a realization dawned his eyes, he cleared his throat. “I’m…Umm…I do not kiss on the first date.”
“Sure,” she replied nonchalantly. “What about that cute Earth Kingdom girl?”
“Jin? She… she kissed me first.”
“Mhm, okay,” Mai continued amused. “What about our first date?”
Oh no. She wanted to embarrass him; she hadn’t expected that smug boyish smirk on his face when he leaned forward. “There is an exception to every rule,” he said, too happy with himself.
Mai wondered for a second if that night in Ba Sing Se pumped in his mind too. His blush under her fingertips, and his wet locks after his clumsy fall in a fountain, their mixed breath when he deepened the kiss, and his warm — too warm hand on her waist when he pulled her closer.
“Dork,” she commented dryly, but still tenderly, listening to Zuko’s sincere raspy laugh in reply.
***
Quickly that became their new routine — he was coming to the shop two or three times a week, occupied a single chair near the counter and complained how terrible and boring his dates were, and she laughed in response, or snorted, calling him no other than Fire Lord Dork. Mai hadn’t remembered when it was the last time she laughed so often and openly. Nonetheless, most days, looking at Zuko’s adorable sad face, Mai softened and tried to advise how he could charm each one of those girls.
“Are you sure that’ll work out?” Zuko doubted, watching intently how she was watering the plants.
“I spent with them many years in the Royal Fire Academy for Girls. Believe me, I know how they work,” was Mai’s only reply.
Sometimes he managed to drag her out to the nearby tea shop after her shift. Mai didn’t want to think about auntie Mura’s worried face when she was leaving with a stranger in the cloak.
“And then she asked me what I would prefer for a pet — a poodle monkey or a cat-owl,” Zuko was grumbling, ignoring his tea. “And when I said I’d rather prefer a dragon, she looked at me like I’m crazy.”
Mai snorted, hiding her smile behind the cup.
“What?” He demanded, offended. “Dragons are pretty cool.”
“Yes, they were,” she admitted simply, pretending she hadn’t noticed his admired glance.
Some evenings they just were walking through the streets, chewing fire flakes bought from the local vendors, and that was almost like in old times. Except these times, instead of sharing their feelings to each other or complaining about the world, Zuko was talking about his feelings to a bunch of silly girls whose names Mai didn’t bother herself to remember.
“And she said that she really likes seashells,” he finished, stealing from her another fire flake.
“So, she’s even more stupid than I thought,” Mai shrugged and silently offered him her pack of snacks. Zuko grinned at her.
They kept walking in silence, the city’s lights glassed on their faces, a warm evening wind tugged her dress.
“I have missed you,” Zuko suddenly blurted out, she locked him with indignant eyes. “Not like that. Well like that maybe too, but that’s not what I… I’ve missed you as my friend,” he added quickly, then exhaled almost dreamily. “We used to hang out all the time when we were kids. That… that was great. You were my first friend, you know?”
Mai turned her face to him, studying his handsome features. Despite that long dark hair down over his eyes which she used to cut forcefully when they were together, despite that strong jawline and tiredness in his golden eyes, despite these few inches he became taller for the past few years, he was still Zuko — Zuko whom she loved and perhaps never won’t stop loving a little deep down in her heart. He was her first true friend too.
“I meant it,” he said with his serious tone which he used while talking about something he has full confidence in. “When I said you’re my family, I meant it, Mai. If you ever need anything, anytime, I am always there for you. Always.”
She nodded uncertainly, not quite sure what she was supposed to reply. But Zuko was still Zuko, who knew her as well as she knew him — he didn’t insist on her answer.
***
When he disappeared for whole days due to his Fire Lord duties, Mai started to catch herself thinking she missed his company. There were times when she unconsciously stared at the entrance door, expecting him to go in and make her laugh of his awkwardness and naiveness. Unbelievable. So many years, so many breakups and pain inside her chest, and he still had a power over her stupid heart.
One afternoon Zuko finally slid into the flower shop, quiet and thoughtful, and Mai felt something wrong from the very beginning.
“Her name is Yumena,” he said, failing to hide his blush. “And it went surprisingly well.”
Mai tried to remember at least one lady from the court with such a name. “I guess I never met her,” she replied with a shrug and asked him with a small nod to hand her an orchid from behind him.
“She's a little younger than me, and their family moved from the North only recently. No wonder you don’t know her. Her father is one of my generals.”
While he was talking about this pretty girl with a beautiful smile, and such a grace, who’s sharing his interests in theater, and knew a dozen of his favorite haiku by heart, and like dancing and embroidery, Mai got a lump in her throat.
She was nothing like Mai. No passion for daggers and fights, no disinterest in politics, no hidden emotions and tangled feelings, no family members who wanted to turn his rule down. Only a cute well-mannered girl, a perfect match, who’ll become a beloved Fire Lady and homemaker, will cheer him and admire, and certainly won’t call him a hot-headed idiot with a temper out of control. Exactly who he needed to please his court and fire sages.
It hurt, deep and strong, more than she wanted, more than she could admit. However, Mai always knew how to keep her emotions still. “I don’t know if that could impress her, but you can buy her flowers,” she offered, trying to sound sincere. “I would suggest fire lilies, but you know they’re blooming only in…”
“No! No fire lilies!” Zuko interrupted her hoarsely. Their eyes crossed for a moment; a shiver went down her spine. Zuko sighed, relenting, and tried to maintain his composure. “Maybe you could… Could you please pick another flower? The cost doesn’t matter.”
Mai nodded, biting her lip, and pointed to the bouquets of pink camellias.
***
Zuko was gone for two weeks, Mai was desperately trying not to go crazy from the boredom. She was training, selling plants, watching over her younger brother, ignoring her mother’s rebukes, reading plays and training again — all she could think of. She got a long letter from Ty Lee and wrote a response; in the meantime, she sent a letter to Suki too.
It was almost evening. Mai was trying to draw a bonsai tree in front of her using master Piandao’s thin-line-technique which he had been explained in his last book, when a bell on the door ringed.
“Hi,” Zuko smiled shyly, the light of lanterns lit up his face and scar, and her heart stubbornly jumped and hit on ribs.
“Hi,” Mai responded quietly, feeling how betraying blush blooming on her cheeks.
Zuko hesitated on an entrance, then came closer, sent a glimpse on her drawing in front of her. “How are you doing?”
“Not much,” she shrugged, showing him her unfinished bonsai on a paper. The blush deepened; Mai dug her nails to the wood of the counter. Oh Agni, she wanted to slap herself for behave like ten years old.
Zuko rubbed the back of his neck. “Perhaps that’s the last time I come here to bother you,” he started, not looking her in the eyes, “things went good with Yumena. I… I think maybe she’s the one. I want to propose her tomorrow,” he said awkwardly.
Air left Mai’s lungs. Perhaps, that was what firebenders were feeling, redirecting the lightning bumped on them. A pain and terrify piercing through you. Regardless she managed to rasp. “Zuko, that’s great. You must be happy.”
He smiled sincerely. “Yeah. I-I wanted to thank you, for all. I’m glad we’re still friends, Mai.”
Dinner went in a blur. Mai even didn’t react when Tom-Tom climbed on her lap and spilled his soup on her skirt; she caught the moment when her mother began cooing about her brother and escaped to her bedroom. Miserable tears were starting to fall before she reached the bed, she hadn’t bothered to wipe them — only slid under sheets and curling up, letting her desperation and disappointment to rule over her.
She barely calmed her emotions at dawn, when the power of Agni rose high into the sky, giving the city its warm presence. Tears dried. She won’t cry over him anymore, Mai decided bitterly. She cried when they fell to the fountain, and she thought he hated her, she cried when they banished him for a long three years. She cried when he dumped her over a letter, and she cried when he preferred his secrets instead of her.
She won’t be crying anymore because he decided to marry. It was his other incredible skill — broke her heart with a periodicity of every three years. She had to get used to it a long time ago.
That settled already — he’ll marry that pretty girl, then they’ll give a birth to a bunch of royal brats, preferable firebenders, will go to the vacation on Ember Island every year and will become a model of family for every Fire Nation citizen. That’s what a good Fire Lord like Zuko was supposed to do. Nothing new.
Mai could live with it. She had Tom-Tom, and auntie, and Ty Lee. She had some money earned honestly from her work in the shop, so she could go travelling, and she had her mastered skills in knife-throwing. She helped to conquer Ba Sing Se at the age of fifteen, for Agni’s sake. She could manage the marriage of her stupid ex-boyfriend! Perhaps she should go to master Piandao and ask him to train her. Or she could become a Kyoshi warrior, though their make-up still made her nauseous.
Nonetheless, the next few days in the shop Mai was holding her breath every time when customers brought Fire Lord in their conversations. She didn’t know what exactly she had expected. Heralds who will shout about his engagement? Articles in papers? Messenger-hawks? Avatar’s flying bison packed with invitations?
Lost in her thoughts, Mai barely heard auntie Mura’s call. The woman handed the post to her niece. “There is a letter for you, dear. From the palace.”
Instead of bittersweet relief, Mai felt a fury. Oh, if he, being of sound mind, decided to invite her to his stupid wedding, she was going to kill him and even pay willingly for her actions.
Mai was unfolding the letter with trembling fingers, half-expecting to see ornaments of flame, dragons and lilies, and careful characters reporting something like ‘To Lady Mai. His Majesty, Fire Lord Zuko, and her grace lady Yumena, daughter of general N, request the honor of your presence at their wedding…’
Despite her fears, that was only a short note, written by Zuko himself.
“Mai,
I ask you to do me one more favor and come to the palace at any time that'll suit you — today, tomorrow or through next week. I will wait patiently.
Zuko.”
She ripped the letter apart and went back to work. No way she would fall into this trap again.
A conscience started bothering her late in the afternoon. When auntie cautiously interested what was in the letter, Mai couldn’t stand it any longer.
Mai walked to the palace on foot, she spent her childhood there, it was like a coming home once again. She found him sitting near the turtleduck pond, right on the ground in full fire lord regalia and with bread in his hands.
“If you wanted to give me a wedding invitation you could basically send a messenger. No need to drag me to the palace,” she said dryly instead of greeting.
Zuko winced, surprised, and let a light chuckle. “Hello to you, too, Mai.”
She sighed and sat beside him, paying no mind to the messy grass. “So?”
“So?” He questioned dully.
“Where is my wedding invitation?” Mai asked irritatingly with arms crossed over her chest.
“Oh, you’re about it,” he whispered. “Well, there is no wedding in the near future.”
Turtleducks were peacefully swimming on the other side of the pond, a wind waved leaves above them on the tree. Mai’s shoulders stiffened. “Are you kidding? You’re the Fire Lord, she couldn’t refuse your proposal.”
He laughed, dry and bitterly, shaking his head, and threw another piece of bread into the pond. “I didn’t propose.”
“What?” She asked, dumbfounded. “But you’ve told me…”
“I couldn’t, alright?” Zuko exclaimed, perhaps angrier at himself than at her question. “I’ve prepared that stupid dinner and that stupid ring, and I’ve even rehearsed what I would say, and I really wanted to, but I didn’t. I…I just couldn’t.”
“But why?” it sounded barely audible.
Zuko turned to her, a sad tender smile curved on his lips. “I guess you know why,” he said softly, giving her a warm lovesick glance.
A wave of anger passed through her body; fingers almost snatched a knife from under her sleeves. What had he expected? That she would throw herself into his embrace and confess her love? Or showed sympathy? Poor Zuko hadn’t a stomach to propose because he didn’t have a clue about his feelings and kept messing around poor girls’ heads, including hers as well.
“You’re a moron!” She growled, punching him in the arm. He shrieked faintly, dodging from her aimed kicks. “You’re. A. Complete. Moron! Had it occurred to you for a single second what I was thinking? What did you make me go through? You’re a stupid, insufferable, complete…”
“Mai,” he gasped in awe, and a realization smacked her on the head. She stopped punching him.
“You know what? Whatever. I don’t care. I’m going home.” Mai gracefully rose from the grass. “Good luck with your noble pig-chickens.”
Zuko jumped so high and quickly that any airbender would envy.
“Mai, wait,” he grabbed her wrist and whirled her, pulling her to his chest. “Mai,” he breathed, bewildered. A wide goofy smile cracked on his lips, started reaching golden eyes. “Does that mean?”
“That doesn’t mean anything!” Mai replied with warning. “Now let me go!”
“Mai,” Zuko pleaded, repeating her name with adoration, raising his hands and gently caressing her cheeks with his rough from firebending thumbs. This too-happy expression on his face annoyed her, she must wipe it out, and do it quickly. “Does that mean you lo…?”
Mai grabbed his face and pulled him into the fever kiss; Zuko melted for a moment, then sighed into her lips and replied eagerly, running his fingers through her hair and pressing her closer.
“Shut up! I’m still mad at you,” Mai breathed heavily when they broke apart. “But you’re lucky I don’t hate you.”
Zuko chuckled softly, understanding the true meaning of these words, and left a small kiss on her temple. “I don’t hate you too.”
Mai had missed that feeling — not just hugging him, clinging to his robes and breathing his scent, but being embraced by him, in the safety and comfort of his strong arms. She listened to his steady heartbeat and a warm quivering sensation was sparkling in her chest and went down through her veins.
“Can’t believe I fell for a jerk who didn’t even propose to me properly,” she muttered after a short pause, hiding head in a crook of his neck.
“Mai,” she heard him from above.
“Maybe I’m not a girly girl like Ty Lee, but even I deserve a proper proposal…”
“Mai!” Zuko called, an amusement in his voice.
She raised her gaze and that was almost painful how beautiful his eyes were glowing under the rays of the setting sun. “What?”
Zuko cradled her face. “That’ll be a proper proposal. I promise you.”
“You better,” Mai whispered shakily, closing her eyes as he leaned down to press their lips again.
“You know what?” Zuko asked joyfully afterwards, resting his chin on her hair. “That definitely won’t be a marriage of convenience.”
“No, definitely not,” Mai agreed, calming in his tight embrace. “That rather be a marriage of inconvenience.”