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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 stupid annoying customers, no auntie Mura to distract her, no Tom-Tom to draw all her attention to keep him from destroying pots or expensive bouquets of panda lilies, not even Ty Lee to chirp on the background all last news in and out of the 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 come up with an idea to bring with her scrolls and some books, so she could keep herself busy reading stories and plays during 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 Mai snort and wrinkle her nose, when loud sounds from the outside interrupted this bliss. Mai tilted her head up and regretted it immediately.
Outside the windows was a crowd, cheerful and excited, and a big bright red palanquin with golden frames and the symbol of their nation was floating through the street.
“Oh spirits,” Mai muttered to herself. She quickly put aside the scroll and smoothed her apron, then she bent down and lifted 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, 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 a 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 towards her. “And I swear I would've never disturbed you under 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 couldn’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 away and sighed. 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 up 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 fake 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, somehow coldly. “But what do you want from me?”
“Just… talk about it? Maybe some encouragement?” Zuko smiled sheepishly.
For a moment Mai thought about slapping 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 caught her aggressive 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 a piece of paper from a shelf behind the counter. “You’ll come only in my working hours on my working days,” she muttered, carefully writing down the numbers, “you won't speak until spoken to, not a soul should know we communicate again, and for Agni’s sake, Zuko,” she put down the ink and handed him the 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'd agreed. Well, she thought, at least it won’t be boring.
***
Zuko showed up three days later, with a cloak and in his citizen robes, and gave her a small, unsure smile. He stayed on the corner and pretended to watch bromeliads, while Mai was counting a change for the last customers. He waited until they left.
“Well?” She asked only slightly curious, picking up the next bouquet. Zuko let out an exasperated groan and rested his head on the counter.
It was more than an awful date, Mai thought when he retold her the whole 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, meeting his confused gaze. “She wanted you to kiss her.”
“Oh,” it was almost comical when realization dawned on 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 popped up in his mind too. His blush under her fingertips, and his wet locks after his clumsy fall in a fountain, their mixed breathing 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.
***
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 didn't remember when 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 him 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 many years with them 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 grumbled, 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 a cup.
“What?” He demanded, offended. “Dragons are pretty cool.”
“Yes, they were,” she admitted simply, pretending she hadn’t noticed his admiring glance.
Some evenings they were just walking through the streets, chewing fire flakes that Zuko had bought from local vendors, and that felt almost like old times. Except these times, instead of sharing their feelings for 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 to remember.
“And she said that she really likes seashells,” he finished, stealing another fire flake from her.
“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 were mirroring on their faces, a warm evening wind was tugging her dress.
“I have missed you,” Zuko suddenly blurted out, she locked him with indignant eyes. “Not like that. Well, maybe like that 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 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 over the past few years, he was still Zuko — Zuko whom she loved and perhaps would never 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 had 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, 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 a couple of days due to his Fire Lord duties, Mai started to catch herself thinking she was missing his company. There were times when she stared unconsciously at the entrance door, expecting him to get in and make her laugh from his awkwardness and naiveness. Unbelievable. So many years, so many breakups and pain inside her chest, and he still had 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 nodded him 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 to theater, and knew a dozen of his favorite haiku by heart, and liked 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, someone who would become a beloved Fire Lady and a homemaker, who would cheer him up and admire, and certainly wouldn't call him a hot-headed idiot with a temper out of control. Exactly whom 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 might 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 absent for two weeks, Mai was desperately trying not to go crazy from the boredom. She was training, selling plants, looking after her younger brother, ignoring her mother’s rebukes, reading plays and training again — everything she could think of. She received 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 explained in his last book, when a bell on the door rang.
“Hi,” Zuko smiled shyly, the light of lanterns lit up his face and the scar, and her heart jumped stubbornly and hit against ribs.
“Hi,” Mai responded quietly, feeling how a betraying blush started blooming on her cheeks.
Zuko hesitated at the entrance, then came closer, sending a glimpse at the 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 into the wood of the counter. Oh Agni, she wanted to slap herself for behaving like a ten-year-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 are going well with Yumena. I… I think maybe she’s the one. I want to propose tomorrow,” he said awkwardly.
Air left Mai’s lungs. Perhaps, that was how firebenders were feeling, redirecting the lightning thrown at them. Pain and terrifying piercing through your skin.
Regardless, she managed to rasp. “Zuko, that’s great. You must be happy.”
He smiled sincerely. “Yeah. I-I wanted to thank you, for everything. I’m glad we’re still friends, Mai.”
Dinner went in a blur. Mai didn’t even 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 started to fall before she reached the bed, she didn't bother to wipe them — only slid under sheets and curled up, letting her desperation and disappointment rule over her.
She barely calmed her emotions at dawn, when the power of Agni rose high in the sky, giving the city its warm presence. Tears dried. She won’t cry over him anymore, Mai decided bitterly. She cried when they had fallen into the fountain, and she'd thought he hated her, she cried when they had banished him for long three years. She cried when he had dumped her over a letter, and she cried when he'd preferred his secrets over her.
She won’t be crying anymore because he decided to marry. It was another one of his incredible skills — breaking her heart with a frequency of three years. She had to get used to it a long time ago.
That was settled already — he’ll marry that pretty girl, then they’ll give birth to a bunch of royal brats, preferably firebenders, every year they will go on vacation to Ember Island, and they 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 traveling, and she had 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, even though their make-up still made her nauseous.
Nonetheless, the next few days in the shop Mai was holding her breath every time customers brought Fire Lord in their conversations. She didn’t know what exactly she was expecting. 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. The woman handed the post to her niece. “There is a letter for you, dear. From the palace.”
Instead of bittersweet relief, Mai felt fury. Oh, if he, being in 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 flames, dragons and lilies, and careful characters reporting something similar to
‘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, there 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 the 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.
Conscience started bothering her late in the afternoon. When auntie asked cautiously 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 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've sent a messenger. No need to drag me to the palace,” she said dryly instead of greeting.
Zuko winced, surprised, and let out 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 and crossed her arms.
“Oh, you mean this,” he whispered. “Well, there is no wedding in the near future.”
Turtleducks were peacefully swimming on the other side of the pond, a wind was waving tree leaves above them . Mai’s shoulders stiffened. “Are you kidding me? 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?” she whispered 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 glance.
A wave of anger passed through her body; fingers almost snatched a shuriken from under her sleeves. What had he expected? That she would throw herself into his embrace and confess her love? Or show sympathy? Poor Zuko didn't have a stomach to propose because he didn’t have a clue about his feelings and kept messing around poor girls’ heads, including Mai's as well.
“You’re a moron!” She growled, punching him in the arm. He shrieked faintly, dodging from her aimed hits. “You! Are! A! Complete! Moron! Had it occurred to you at least once 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 rose gracefully from the grass. “Good luck with your noble pig-chickens.”
Zuko jumped so high and quickly that any airbender would've envied.
“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 and started reaching golden eyes. “Does that mean?”
“That doesn’t mean anything!” Mai replied with a warning. “Now let me go!”
“Mai,” Zuko pleaded, repeating her name with adoration. He raised his hands and gently caressed her cheeks with his rough thumbs. This too-happy expression on his face annoyed her, she needed to wipe it out, and do it quickly. “Does that mean you lo…?”
Mai grabbed his face and pulled him into the feverish 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 hugged by him, in the safety and comfort of his strong arms. She was listening to his steady heartbeat and a warm quivering sensation sparkled in her chest and went 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 her head in the crook of his neck.
“Mai,” she heard him.
“Maybe I’m not a girly girl like Ty Lee, but even I deserve a proper proposal…”
“Mai!” Zuko called, amusement in his voice.
She raised her gaze. That felt almost painful how beautiful his eyes were glowing under the rays of the setting sun. “What?”
Zuko cradled her face. “There will 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 afterward, resting his chin on her head. “That definitely won’t be a marriage of convenience.”
“No, definitely not,” Mai agreed, calmed and relaxed in his tight embrace. “That rather be a marriage of inconvenience.”