Work Text:
“You know, I really miss the flowers in the Fire Nation.”
Mai looks up from sharpening one of her knives, taking in Ty Lee’s wistful eyes and sombre expression. She has her face in her hands, her knees pushed up towards her chest.
Her heart clenches.
Most would be surprised to see Ty Lee so… down, probably. Ty Lee is all smiles and unfiltered joy to everyone around her, and to see the usual ray of sunshine upset would be a little bit of a shock.
Except it isn’t. Not if it’s Mai.
They’ve been best friends since they were kids. Mai was there, every step of the way, to see the war slowly affect Ty Lee and how her joy became more of a mask than an actual thing. It wasn’t like Mai didn’t have masks of her own. She did, and that’s why they understood each other. They were both afraid and trying to protect themselves. They didn’t have many people to trust.
Well, except for each other.
After the war, they both had let their facades slowly fade away, but old habits die hard. Ty Lee still says ‘I’m okay!’ like a rehearsed reply sometimes, and Mai still shuts down on instinct whenever something makes her feel happy, but they’re working on it. Kyoshi Island had been especially helpful to Ty Lee, and so is the flower shop Mai had been working at for a while. It was therapeutic for them both.
And Mai never feels the urge to hide when it’s Ty Lee. So she gives the girl a curious look and asks, “how come?”
Ty Lee sighs. Her eyes droop a little lower. “It’s silly. The greenery here on Kyoshi Island is lovely, of course. But I haven’t seen a Fire Nation flower in so long and I guess… I guess I’m a little homesick.” She laughs softly.
Mai’s heart hurts at the confession. “I don’t think it’s silly.”
Ty Lee sniffles. “You don’t?”
“Of course not. The Fire Nation’s your home. Just… don’t worry, okay? Things will work out.” Gears were turning in Mai’s head. She smiles slightly. “Come visit sometime, actually. Mum has been asking about you.”
Ty Lee’s eyes widen almost comically. “Michi! I haven’t seen her in so long. Tell her I’m sorry and I’ll visit as soon as I can!”
Mai’s smile grows just a bit wider. “I don’t doubt it.”
The next time Mai visits Kyoshi Island, she’s holding a bouquet.
It isn’t anything extravagant. She put it together in about ten minutes, honest.
(Okay, so it was more like twenty minutes, but whatever.)
The airship lands on the familiar island, and before Mai can even step out properly, she is ambushed.
Ty Lee knocks the wind out of her lungs, as usual, and Mai sighs, letting her wrap her arms around her and squeeze her like her life depended on it.
“Mai! I missed you so so so so much!” Ty Lee squeals. Mai lets her hold on for another ten seconds before she’s wriggling out of her grasp.
“Missed you too. Hey, uh, I brought you something.”
Ty Lee tilts her head curiously. Mai takes a deep breath before revealing what she’s holding, practically shoving the bouquet in Ty Lee’s hands. “Here.”
Ty Lee looks down at the bouquet, her lips parted. “…what’s this?”
“Um. Peonies and carnations. They symbolise bravery and honour, among other things. I just thought you’d like them. Because, uh, you said you missed flowers from the Fire Nation.” Mai trails off, her heart hammering in her chest. Ty Lee is expressionless, and it almost sends her into a cardiac arrest. That’s never a good sign. “You don’t have to accept them, of course, I—”
Ty Lee interrupts her with a laugh. “Mai. Oh my God, I love them. You even got me them in pink!”
Mai shrugs embarrassedly. “It’s your favourite colour…”
The girl grins, hugging the bouquet to her chest. “I’m serious, I love them. Thank you so much. Oh, I’m gonna go put these in my room! I’ll go ask Suki for a vase. Wanna come with me?”
Mai’s lips quirk up. “Okay.”
Ty Lee bounces off, in full Kyoshi uniform. Mai follows her the sight of her swinging braid, her poised back, her jittery energy. Everything about her is so Ty Lee. If she was here, she’d tell Mai that was her aura.
Mai shakes her head and hides a fond smile.
Mai brings a blue bouquet next.
It’s been about a week since she’s last visited, and she’s missed the bright girl quite a bit. It’s not like it’s embarrassing for her to admit that she misses her friend, but the bouquet is a different story.
Would she be overdoing it? Would Ty Lee even want more flowers?
Tom-Tom squirms in her hands, making ‘ooh!’ sounds every time he looks out the window. She was asked to babysit today, which Mai had graciously accepted, knowing how much Ty Lee and her little brother get along. It’s fascinating to her, seeing a three-ish year old baby and a trained combat fighter dressed in bright pink interact all the time, but they love each other. It makes something warm grow in Mai’s chest.
They land, though no Kyoshi Warriors come to greet them. Mai figures they must be training. She puts Tom-Tom down for a second, turning to gather her things and grab her bag. When she turns back, Tom-Tom’s gone.
Wait.
Tom-Tom’s gone.
“Shit!” Mai hisses, eyes scanning the area wildly. He couldn’t have gotten that far.
Then again, three year olds could run notoriously fast. Mai curses again when she can’t find him.
She rushes forward, calling out Tom-Tom’s name desperately. Oh God, her mother would kill her. Not that Mai was particularly scared of having a bouquet of flowers thrown into her face, but it was more the concept of losing Tom-Tom that had her frantic. Worry gnawed at her heart. She couldn’t lose him.
She finally spots him all the way at the end of the road, near a little hut. Mai heaves a sigh of relief before she hears a familiar sound.
Cling!
…the sound of metal fans flicking open and close.
“The warriors are training in there!” Mai gasps, racing forward. Her legs burn under the exercise and her breaths come out desperate, but Tom-Tom is unsafe and he’s entering the room—
“Stop!” A voice rings through the air.
It’s so loud that the metallic sounds dissipate instantly. The only noise on this part of the island is the occasional chirp of an animal and the wind rustling the leaves.
Mai makes it to the hut, panting. She takes in the sight in front of her.
Many warriors stood in varying stances, all with their fans open and arms stretched down. She couldn’t find Suki amongst the crowd, which was the first weird part. The second would be that one Kyoshi Warrior has their fan closed and is guarding a child with their arms—
“Tom-Tom!” Mai huffs, darting forward to scoop the devil up. “I’m sorry to interrupt your training, warriors.”
Choruses of ‘it’s no problem!’ were thrown out. Mai shifts awkwardly. The warrior previously protecting Tom-Tom straightens, showing off grey eyes and a wide smile. Mai jumps back. “Ty Lee!”
She laughs, melodic and lovely. “Mai! We’re just finishing up with training. It’s great to see you!” She gives Mai her customary hug with Tom-Tom squished between them. Mai huffs out a relieved sigh.
“Hi. Where’s Suki?” she asks curiously. It’s weird for them to be training without their leader.
Ty Lee laughs. “These are new recruits. She put me in charge of training them.”
“Oh.” Mai’s impressed. “Must be a lot of hard work.”
Ty Lee softens her smile. “A bit.”
“I’ll leave you to it. And thank you for protecting him. Agni knows my mother would not be happy if I came back with an injured Tom-Tom.”
“I don’t doubt it. And of course. Let me just debrief before I leave.” She wrings her hands together. “Uh, wait for me in my room?”
Something about the request feels quieter, vulnerable. Still, Mai swallows her nerves and nods steely. Ty Lee gives her a beam and turns back to the waiting warriors.
As Mai makes her way to where she knows Ty Lee’s room is, she remembers the bouquet she has sticking out her bag. She picks up the mixture of anemones and bluebells and sighs, fingers brushing across the soft petals. They shiver under her touch.
Gratitude. Fragility. She wasn’t thinking of what the flowers symbolise when she picked them out, but as she thought of Ty Lee’s fierce voice and protective stance, hesitant question and hopeful eyes, she couldn’t help but think that it was extremely fitting anyway.
So maybe it’s become a bit of a tradition.
During the last week, Ty Lee had been ecstatic for more flowers. She gushed about them for ages, which led Mai to believe that she would want more, so she made yet another bouquet. It seemed logical, after all. If it meant that Ty Lee’s eyes would brighten like that again, then Mai would do it a hundred times over.
She had gone with a brighter bouquet today. She holds a mixture of white, pink, and yellow camellias in her hands, fiddling with the arrangement every now and then. It had taken her quite a while to create this specific bouquet. She remembers her mother raising an eyebrow at her earlier.
“Mai, my daughter, who are those flowers for?”
“Just creating a bouquet,” Mai replies, actively avoiding eye contact.
“Hm? The white camellias often represent death, you know. So unless you’re creating funeral flowers…”
Mai freezes from where she had been holding a white camellia. “They what?”
Michi chuckles. “But, they may also convey purity and waiting. And in the Earth Kingdom, they represent everlasting, undying love.”
Mai huffs. She doesn’t blush, but it’s a near thing. “Whatever. I don’t care about what they mean. Is that all? You’re not going to criticise my use of the pinks or yellows?”
“Of course not. Pink and yellow camellias represent longing. For what exactly, I don’t know. But they make a lovely combination. You have a good eye.”
She rolls her eyes. “Okay, Ma.”
Either way, she’s carrying the camellias to Kyoshi Island, heart pounding in her chest.
See, Mai always prides herself in being able to hide her emotions extremely well. Yet, every time she thinks of giving flowers to Ty Lee, her heart threatens to burst out of her chest and she can’t look anywhere into her eyes. Her mother would tell her it’s because she has a big heart, but she doesn’t think so. She’s just doing this because Ty Lee likes it, after all.
When her airship touches down and Ty Lee barrels into her arms, Mai passes her the flowers with a shy smile.
“Oh! Thank you,” Ty Lee chirps, eyes alight with joy. “You don’t have to keep doing this, you know.”
“It makes you happy,” Mai replies simply.
Ty Lee looks shocked, before a soft pink paints her cheeks. She grins and looks down at the flowers, huffing a laugh. “You’re sweet.”
Mai would’ve paid more attention to her blush if her own cheeks didn’t feel like fire. “Anything for you”
It’s an unusual bouquet this time.
It’s clear in Ty Lee’s expression that she is surprised. She looks from the bouquet and back to Mai, brows furrowed. Her mouth opens and closes, unsure of whether she should say what she wants to say. Mai heaves a sigh, crossing her arms. “Go ahead.”
“I thought you hated the colour orange?” Ty Lee blurts out. She quickly covers her mouth. “Sorry! Not that I don’t appreciate it. It’s a gorgeous bouquet, but still.”
They’re sitting on the floor of Ty Lee’s room, a new vase in between them. Ty Lee places the flowers inside delicately, humming softly as she does so. It’s evening, the sunset outside lighting the room with a warm glow. Ty Lee bathes in the light, her features twinkling.
She looks ethereal.
“The orange went well with the panda lilies,” Mai huffs, trying not to sound too affected by how pretty her best friend is. “They’re plumerias, by the way. We recently got a shipment of panda lilies from the Earth Kingdom, and we’ve had the plumerias lying around the shop forever. It was a good use.”
Ty Lee smiles, thumbing an orange petal. “Well, it came out beautiful! You know, as much as you say you despise the colour orange, I think it really suits you.”
Mai gives her a disgusted look. “Ew. Never say that again.”
Ty Lee giggles, her laughter echoing in her room. Her lips stretch into a wide, genuine smile, that has Mai’s heart stuttering. “I’m serious! Your aura is kind of orange. I mean— I guess it could pass off as red, but there’s definitely an orange tint to it.”
Mai struggles not to frown. “Is that, like, a good thing?”
“Of course! I’m not sure what it means with the flowers — I was never good at flower symbolism — but orange auras generally mean that you’re a thoughtful and strong-willed person. That’s definitely true for you.”
Mai snorts. “I doubt it.”
Ty Lee looks hurt at her words. Her eyes droop sadly. “What do you mean? You’re the most thoughtful person I know.”
Maybe it’s the way she looks at her when she says it, but Mai swears that the air around them gets thicker. She breathes in slowly, willing her beating heart to calm down. “I’m not, Ty. If anyone’s thoughtful here, it’s you. I’m too selfish.”
“Mai…”
“You don’t have to sound so upset. It’s just a fact. A flaw. Everyone has them.” She kind of wants to add on except you, but she doesn’t want the girl to get even more upset.
Seemed like the damage was done, though. Ty Lee sat up straighter, pointing an accusing finger to her. “You’re wrong. You’re so wrong, and the flowers I have in my room prove it. You’re so sweet and compassionate, Mai, you don’t even know. You’re the most ride-or-die person I know. You do anything you can to make your brother and mother happy. You’re the one who always makes sure Zuko eats enough, or asks if Aang is feeling okay, or checks in to see if Toph is lonely and wants a visit. You bring me flowers just because I offhandedly said I miss them. You’re not selfish.”
“But I—”
“You sacrifice so much, Mai. Your heart is so full of love. I know you don’t think that because of how much you had to shut down, but it is. You’re full of it. And to be on the receiving end of your care always makes me so, so happy. You’re the furthest thing from selfish, and I don’t know who ingrained that idea into your head but they’re wrong.”
Mai is speechless. Ty Lee reaches out to grab her hands, squeezing them tightly.
“You’re my best friend. I’ve seen all that you do firsthand. Don’t you dare tell me you’re not the kindest, loveliest, most thoughtful person there is.”
Her breath hitches. Her vision goes blurry.
“Ty Lee, I—”
“I know,” Ty Lee whispers. “I know you don’t agree. But it’s the truth, it’s how I see you. Nothing can ever change that.”
She can’t help the tear that falls. As Ty Lee wipes it away with gentle fingers, Mai thinks that this might be the moment she falls in love.
The bouquet lays beside them, blooming.
It’s when the new shipment of flowers comes in when Mai decides that she has to do something about it.
It? It being her increasing desperation to see Ty Lee happy.
There’s just something about her. The way her eyes glow and her posture gets a little straighter, the way her soft pink lips stretch into a smile that could rival the sun. The way she fiddles with her braid, all bashful and genuinely, utterly, happy. Mai wants her to be like that all the time. She wants it so bad.
Somewhere along the line, she’s fallen for Ty Lee. It’s not the shocking revelation she thought it’d be, honestly. It kind of felt like it’s always been there. Putting a label on what she felt didn’t make much of a difference.
Mai gathers the flowers in her hands, cradling them so gently because she’s afraid that even the smallest force would destroy them all. They can’t be destroyed. They have to be perfect. It’s what she deserves.
She’s flying over by airship again, her heart flipping somersaults as she gets closer and closer to Kyoshi Island. You’d think the feeling would wear off after a while, but it really doesn’t. Seeing Ty Lee smile never gets old, after all.
When the airship touches down and Mai walks out to greet her friend, she almost turns back.
She doesn’t, though, because Ty Lee is a magnetic field and she’s helpless. She’s pulled forward, her legs moving towards the girl clad in Kyoshi makeup, and she can’t seem to stop.
Ty Lee beams, opening her mouth to greet her, but it falls short when her eyes catch onto the bouquet in Mai’s hands.
Mai can’t look.
“Are those…” she whispers. Mai nods.
There’s no way that Ty Lee wouldn’t know what she means by these. They’re the Fire Nation flowers, the ones they all learned about as kids. They all know what it means, both for the giver and the receiver.
Ty Lee is quiet, and it’s so unnerving. It’s not the peaceful kind of quiet, nor the sad kind of quiet. She’s just… not responding.
Mai hesitantly lifts her eyes. Ty Lee is still staring.
“Um, you don’t have to…” Mai trails off. Ty Lee swallows audibly.
“Mai… does this mean—”
“Yes,” she says, hesitantly passing the bouquet over towards her. The blazing flowers seem to bloom brighter in her hands. “You don’t need to accept it. Or, well, accept me. I just… just wanted you to know.”
Ty Lee is still silent.
Then, she beams.
It’s so bright and pure and genuine, and it makes Mai flush pink, leaving her fiddling with her clothes awkwardly. Ty Lee throws her head back and laughs unadulterated, happiness radiating off her the whole time.
Ty Lee doesn’t say anything else. She just steps forward and pulls Mai into a kiss.
It’s sweet and soft, so filled with care that Mai has to actively stop herself from collapsing. She kisses back fervently, craving more every second.
Ty Lee runs a hand through her hair. When she pulls away, she tucks one of the flowers behind Mai’s ears. “And for the record, I love you too.”
Mai smiles.
(Later, Ty Lee will place the vase of Fire Lilies beside the rest of the flowers she’s been given, and she’ll pull her girlfriend closer to admire the collection together.)
Fire Lily: A symbol of fiery purity and passion. They simply mean ‘I love you’.