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She drowns, sometimes.
In theory, Mai has everything. So much that one could envy her.
Her parents are rich and hold incredibly high positions in the Fire Nation. Her “friend” is the Fire Princess, and Azula’s brother is Mai’s fiancé, which means that she will soon marry him, and then she will become a princess and won't have to worry about anything.
She has a lot. Parents who want the best for her. She always gets the best food, the most beautiful dresses, the best education. Mai is smart, everyone tells her so. She's not a bender, but that's okay too, because Mai is strong and powerful. Besides, her potential future husband is only the son of the second Prince, so it's not like Mai will become the Fire Lady. She is to become the Fire Princess, just like Lady Ursa.
A lot is expected of her, and yet not much at the same time.
There are rules that Mai should follow. She should stand politely, not speak unless asked, bow, walk elegantly, not jump, not shout, not protest. Obey her parents' orders. Be the perfect noble girl.
At the same time, Mai was born into a good family. She has a lot, she has so much. The servants take care of her, attend to her needs. Mai doesn't have to work, she doesn't have to earn a living, she doesn't have to fear for her life.
Mai has everything others could dream of.
And she drowns, sometimes. Sometimes there is too much of everything. Sometimes Mai feels like nothing more than a puppet controlled by her parents, who must do their bidding and always obey them.
Mai is drowning, and no one notices.
Zuko burns.
Her parents are disappointed—they expected Mai to become the Fire Lady in the future.
But now that future will never come, because everyone knows that the exiled Prince will never become Fire Lord.
Mai doesn't cry.
She didn't know Zuko well, to be honest. Yes, she may have been a little interested in him, she may have admired him from afar, something about him may have caught her attention—but Mai doesn't think it was love. They were both too young for that.
The Avatar appears suddenly, when no one expects him.
It changes a lot and not much.
Everyone talks about him, everyone fears him. Everyone is afraid of what he might do, especially now that the Avatar is the enemy of the Fire Nation.
Mai hopes that for the sake of the Fire Nation, Zuko will catch the Avatar and finally come home.
The Avatar kills thousands of their soldiers in the North.
The war continues.
Omashu is captured, and Mai's parents are appointed to govern the city. Mai moves with her parents and Tom-Tom, her young, perpetually noisy brother, who is so different from her.
Omashu—New Ozai—is so different from the Fire Nation.
It is clearly a city where a king once lived (if you can call that pathetic man who surrendered as soon as he saw them a king), but it is so different from Caldera. It's a bit like another world.
Mai doesn't want to go back to the Fire Nation.
She doesn't want to go back to the boredom, to the royal court and etiquette, to the thousands of rules she has to follow there. She doesn't want to go back because Mai always felt like she was drowning there—and in New Ozai, there's always something going on, and Mai has her knives and she can fight and she's strong and no one thinks she's a pathetic little girl whose opinion doesn't matter.
When Azula appears before her, calling her to the hunt, Mai goes with her.
She feels alive.
And she is free.
Mai is free because she can do whatever she wants. Nothing holds her back. No one cares if she accidentally breaks the rules of etiquette. No one cares because Azula is a hunter and Azula has a goal, and Ty Lee is full of joy and happiness and always smiles and never follows the rules of etiquette.
The three of them make a powerful team.
They fight against the Avatar, time and time again.
And Mai is free.
She is free, nothing holds her back. Her life is no longer boring, she can finally live.
Ba Sing Se falls.
Zuko stands beside Azula, looking as if he regrets every decision he has ever made in his life. He looks as if he is about to go to the cell and free his treacherous uncle.
Azula nudges her with her elbow.
Mai looks at her with slight irritation, but she guesses what is required of her.
So she goes to Zuko and starts talking to him. Zuko doesn't want to return to the Fire Nation, fearing that his actions were not enough to satisfy his father — and Mai can understand that because she fears the same thing. But Azula assured them that the death of the Avatar would be enough to restore Zuko's honor, so maybe...
Mai doesn't even know which one of them approaches the other first.
They kiss, somewhat uncertainly. Zuko has changed a lot since she last saw him, there is an ugly scar on his face that probably repels most people. But Mai doesn't mind, because she knows his story and knows what happened.
She doesn't know what connects them. She doesn't know if it's love. Mai has no idea, but she hopes it will be enough.
She falls in love with him somewhere along the way.
Perhaps it's because of those long nights they spend together on the ship, talking about a thousand different topics and kissing each other. Perhaps it's because they find they can get along.
Or perhaps it's because being with him is comfortable. Mai tries to convince herself that this is not the case, that she is not with him just because it is comfortable for her—because Mai loves him, there is no doubt about that—but at the same time, she cannot deceive herself. The truth is that being with the Fire Prince is comfortable for her because Mai knows her place, she knows where she is and what her life will look like.
But if she were honest, she wouldn't be with him just because it's convenient for her.
She is with him because Zuko sees her. He listens to her, he sees her, he doesn't expect her to be just a silent puppet. He confides his problems to her, and although Mai doesn't always want to hear about them, part of her is happy because it means that Zuko trusts her.
And then, Zuko leaves her.
He breaks up with her in a letter, abandoning her. He doesn't ask her to go with him. Mai is both angry and happy with this decision.
She is still in love with him, but she has no idea who she would choose: him or their country, if she had to make that decision.
At Boiling Rock, she chooses Zuko.
The war ends.
Somehow, the war ends.
Mai is released from prison and goes to the palace to see Zuko. Part of her is angry with him, wanting to argue with him, abandon him, and tell him he should never have abandoned her.
Instead, she kisses him.
And she is happy, in that moment.
Everything changes, for better or for worse.
Being the Fire Lord's girlfriend is not the same as being the Fire Prince's girlfriend.
Not so long ago, Zuko was a traitor; now he is the Fire Lord. And while it's easy to say “the war is over,” the truth is that it's a never-ending task that takes up so much of his time. Mai sees how tired he is, how hard it is for him, how he begins to doubt who he can trust.
Mai sees it. She tries to help him—oh, she tries so hard.
But sometimes the best intentions are not enough.
Some time after his coronation, everything becomes more difficult. The attacks become more frequent, Zuko wastes away before her eyes. Mai sometimes comes to him in the evenings and forces him to rest, reminding him that he cannot live like this.
Sometimes, Mai feels like Zuko is drowning. She recognizes it in his gaze, she recognizes those eyes.
She has seen them too many times in her own reflection.
The Kyoshi Warriors arrive in the Fire Nation.
Few people are happy about it.
“Are you sure this is okay?” a woman asks once, glancing at Mai.
“What exactly?”
“For those... women to be around him,” the woman lowers her voice. “What if one of them tries to seduce him? Our Fire Lord is still a young man, after all. And men have their desires.”
Mai gives her an icy stare.
“Are you saying I can't satisfy them?”
“I didn't say that,” the woman quickly objects. “However... You must have heard the rumors. Apparently, the Fire Lord spent weeks with those savages, staying Agni only knows where. And that girl... you know what they say about the people of the Earth Kingdom. They have no restraint. One man is not enough for them.”
“They even like girls, apparently!” says another noblewoman. “Agni, protect us from this! What is happening to this world!”
“Fortunately, Lady Mai is nearby,” says the first noblewoman. “You will make sure that our Fire Lord is not bewitched by these foreign witches, won't you?”
“Yes,” Mai replies mechanically, not in the mood for this kind of political wrangling.
She never liked it. She didn't want to be part of the court again.
But now she is the Fire Lord's girlfriend, and all eyes are on her.
There are good days and there are bad days.
On good days, Mai is happy, so very happy. On good days, Mai and Zuko spend time together, laughing, stealing kisses, or just enjoying each other's company. On good days, the two share the same passion: they both want to change the Fire Nation for the better.
On bad days, Mai drowns. It's all too much. Everyone is looking at her, everyone needs something from her, everyone wants something from her. Mai cannot do this anymore, and so she drowns. She drowns among the smiles and polite words, among the heavy clothes and etiquette.
She and Zuko argue.
They break up, then they make up. And then they argue again, only to make up again.
Sometimes Mai can't imagine life without him. Sometimes she dreams of stabbing him with a dagger so he'll never open his eyes again.
Sometimes Mai feels that it's not healthy, her and Zuko. They love each other incredibly deeply, Zuko supports her, and she supports him, and on good days she loves him so much, but then the bad days come and everything becomes too much and Mai drowns again, and no one wants to lend her a helping hand because no one notices her and all they see is the mask she creates.
Mai is drowning—and then Zuko reaches out to her, pulling her to the surface, and everything is fine again. Mai holds on to him tightly, and he doesn't let her go, helping her, holding her in his arms and whispering exactly the words she needs to hear.
On another day, it is Zuko who is drowning, and Mai is the one who reaches out to him. She embraces him gently, forcing him to pause, forcing him to rest.
They are drowning, both of them – and both of them are saving each other.
She is not sure why she accepts his proposal.
They are young, she and he. He has his whole life ahead of him.
But Zuko needs an heir. He needs the Fire Lady.
Mai's family needs power and influence.
Ever since they were little, their engagement had been considered. So when Zuko proposes to her, it's obvious that Mai will say yes.
“You didn't have to say yes,” Zuko whispers later, as the two lie in bed. “I love you, Mai, but I want you to be happy.”
“I love you,” Mai turns toward him. “I am happy, with you.”
“If you marry me–”
“I know,” Mai kisses him, stifling his protests.
Mai isn't sure she would be a good Fire Lady. But at the same time, she can't imagine anyone else taking her place.
Mai loves him too much to let him go.
So Mai kisses him again and again, trying to convince herself that this is the right decision.
The crown on her head is heavy.
But Zuko looks at her, smiling. His hand grasps hers.
Mai is not alone.
So Mai lifts her head up, proud.
She is the Fire Lady, and she will behave as befits the Fire Lady.
She still drowns, sometimes.
There is still so much to do, so much to fix, so many eyes on her. Sometimes the palace is big and cold, and even her husband's embrace cannot help her or save her.
She loves him, Mai is sure of that. But sometimes love is not enough.
Everything changes, for better or worse, when Izumi is born.
Mai loves her daughter, there is no doubt about that. And although part of her hates this suffocating life at court, she is tired of everyone always looking at her and there being so many rules she has to follow, at the same time, when she looks at Izumi, she feels that it was all worth it.
Izumi and Zuko are worth it, Mai tells herself over and over again. Because she loves them, cares so much about them, and they become her world.
Izumi and Zuko are worth it.
Looking at them, Mai feels like living. She feels like smiling and announcing to the whole world that she is so lucky.
She has received a great gift.
She has a husband who adores her and cares for her, yet does not hold her back or limit her. Zuko doesn't mind her practicing throwing knives and daggers; in fact, his respect for her only increases, and Mai sees adoration in his eyes.
She has a daughter who is still young and so small, but her presence helps Mai move forward with her life. She makes Mai wake up every morning knowing that someone is waiting for her, someone is depending on her. Izumi is so small, so innocent. She is the best thing that has ever happened to her.
There are no words that can describe how great Mai's love for Izumi is. Mai would be willing to give her life for her and kill for her. She would give so much to keep Izumi safe. It is unclear when Izumi became so important to her.
So yes, Mai is happy. She has so much. She has received so much. She loves and is loved. She surrounds herself with people who care about her.
Mai is happy.
She is so very happy.
Only sometimes everything overwhelms her. Only sometimes the palace is so big, so dark. Only sometimes everyone's eyes are on her, and Mai doesn't want that so much. She wants so much to hide in the shadows, even though her job is to stand in the light and shine.
Zuko seems to notice this, because some time after Izumi's birth, Mai realizes that her list of duties is getting shorter. And Mai is grateful for that, because at least she doesn't have to attend more boring meetings, but at the same time, the world is becoming so boring. Mai no longer knows what to do with her life. Because yes, Izumi is with her and Mai loves her so much, and Mai has a little less responsibilities, and that's good, because at least no one expects so much from Mai, but... Well, but. Sometimes Mai feels like something is missing.
She can't say exactly what it is. And it's such a terrible feeling, because Mai wants to be happy, she deserves to be happy, because Zuko and Izumi deserve to be happy, and Mai loves them so much, but...
Sometimes that's not enough.
Sometimes that's not enough, and Mai drowns when no one is looking.
A group of loyalists frees Ozai.
And Mai is free.
Of course, there is so much to do, so much stress. There are people to protect, people to kill, people to judge, armies to gather, traitors to uncover... But Mai is free.
No one is surprised when she forgets all the rules of etiquette. No one is surprised when she wears clothes that are definitely not suitable for a Fire Lady. No one bothers her with silly dinners or parties—because after Ozai is freed, the Fire Nation is in a huge crisis, such a huge crisis that no one has time to care what their Fire Lady says.
Mai stands, knives at her side.
She stands confidently, her head held high.
She protects her daughter, she protects her people. She kills if she has to. She does whatever it takes to keep Izumi safe.
Ty Lee is also close by, fighting on her side. Her presence soothes something in Mai, some old wound that Mai wasn't even aware of. Ty Lee is one of her oldest friends, but the truth is that life has a way of breaking ties, and childhood friends don't always remain your friends.
And now Ty Lee is with her, smiling at her and supporting her, and Mai finds herself trusting her more than anyone else.
Azula and Zuko are fighting somewhere far away in the North, and Mai stands in the capital, like a last bastion, like a last line of defense.
Mai stands confidently, knife in hand.
Ozai dies in the North, before the eyes of Zuko and Azula.
Everything ends as quickly as it began.
With Ozai's death, peace descends upon the Fire Nation. But it is a false peace—everyone expects something to happen. So Mai forgets about etiquette, forgets about boring parties. She keeps her knives close, her head held high with pride.
And she lives.
Izumi grows.
The infant turns into a babbling toddler. Her world grows bigger and bigger, and with it, Mai's world also grows bigger.
Mai does not embrace her former responsibilities. She does not fulfill the role traditionally assigned to the Fire Lady. She does not host balls or entertain foreign dignitaries. Instead, she spends more and more time in seclusion, where no one can see her, where she can be herself and does not have to worry about what others think of her.
It's not fair to Zuko, who is trying so hard to keep their country together, and Mai knows it. It's not fair to Izumi, whom Mai should be setting an example for, whom Mai should be teaching how to rule. It's not fair to everyone in the palace, who sometimes just need someone to smile at them and reassure them that everything is okay, that yes, someone is watching over them. It's not fair to so many people, and Mai knows it, but part of her is unable to return to her former duties.
Fortunately, Zuko seems to understand this. As it turns out, there are things that Mai doesn't have to deal with. And that's what allows Mai to breathe more deeply, to continue living.
Only sometimes, sometimes, again – again! – there are days and nights when it all becomes too much. When Mai knows she should be doing more, that she should be better, more involved. And she hates herself so much because everyone else is trying so hard.
It's not fair, it's not okay, it's not fair to anyone.
But she can't help it, because there are evenings, nights, days when it's all too much and Mai runs away, hides from the whole world, hiding herself and everything ugly inside her.
There are good days.
Days when Mai is among the crowds and everything is right. Everyone is looking at her, but Mai is happy about it because it means they need her. She stands proudly by her husband's side and rules as she should.
On these good days, she has little time, but that's okay—because she's busy, and when she's busy, she's not bored, and she lives and breathes as she should. And she's happy because she and Zuko are creating something wonderful. Their daughter is beautiful and wonderful, and Mai doesn't care whether she'll be a bender or not. The most important thing for her is that Zuko and Izumi are with her. Sometimes, their presence alone is enough to bring a gentle smile to her face. Mai guesses that it's the same for them; that her presence also supports them and helps them survive until the next day.
In the evening, she lies in bed, embraced by her husband, tears streaming down her cheeks. Mai does not know why this is happening—she did not cry during the war, she did not cry when Ozai burned half of Zuko's face, she did not cry with joy when Izumi was born, she didn't cry when she found out that Ozai had escaped from prison, she did not cry when their country was engulfed in civil war, she did not cry when she heard about Lady Ursa's murder, she did not cry when Zuko sent her a letter informing her that his father was dead and that the war was over.
And yet now, when peace has finally come, when their enemies are either in prison or six feet under, tears are streaming down her cheeks.
“I'm sorry,” she whispers, snuggling up to Zuko.
It's just the two of them, her and him. This is one of those nights when they share a bed. Lately, this has been happening less and less, mainly because Zuko works late and doesn't want to wake her up. Mai has tried to persuade him to get some rest, to delegate some of his responsibilities to others, but Zuko is stubborn, so very stubborn. Mai doesn't know anyone more stubborn than him.
It's not fair, the fate that awaited him. In Mai's opinion, Zuko became Fire Lord too quickly, his childhood and teenage years were taken away from him too quickly. They are still young - and at the same time, they carry so much on their shoulders.
And Mai would love to support him. She would love to help him, she would love to be someone he could lean on, someone he could trust, but...
“I'm sorry,” Mai whispers. “I'm not enough, am I? I should do more, support you better...”
“You are enough, Mai,” Zuko kisses her forehead, but there is fatigue in his voice. “You don't even know how much of a support you were to me during the war. If it weren't for you...”
“But I'm not fit to be the Fire Lady, am I?” Mai asks. It's a question she knows the answer to. “I should be better. I should do so many things, I should...”
Zuko doesn't contradict her words. Instead, he simply pulls her close, as if he wants to use their closeness to change reality, to make the truth a lie.
Mai feels tears begin to roll down her cheeks. The truth is, she should be better, much better, she should do more and try harder. But Mai is trying, she's trying so hard — and the harder she tries, the more she drowns, the harder it is to bear the gaze of everyone around her.
“It's okay,” Zuko says after a while. “You're enough, Mai. You're wonderful. You and Izumi are my hope.”
And that's probably a lie, words meant to make Mai feel better.
But right now, it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter because right now, those words are all Mai will get. So Mai grabs them, like a drowning man clutching at straws, hoping they will pull her to the surface, even though part of her knows it's a lie and that Mai isn't enough, that she should be better, she should do more.
She still drowns, sometimes.
There are days and nights when the world gets small around her and everything is too much. When she feels like a doll with no will of her own — the doll her parents tried to make her.
She drowns amid expectations, labels, and politics. Years ago, she allowed herself to be locked in a golden cage, and she remains there.
Mai drowns—and allows Zuko and Izumi to pull her to the surface so she can take a breath and start breathing again.
She drowns again a moment later when bad days come.
It is a never-ending cycle, a constant struggle. Sometimes Mai does not want to fight it – she wants to drown, forget everything, and just disappear. But then she remembers her husband and daughter and tries to reach the surface, because as much as she needs them, they need her just as much.
She fights, even though she knows she will start drowning again soon.