Playing With Fire

She couldn’t handle it. The deep tones of the men talking; the softer voices of the waiters, offering more wine; the scrape of utensils across the dining ware. She seemed hyper aware of all of these noises until she was convinced they were shouting instead of conversing politely. And all the while she stared at Iroh, willing him to return her gaze and he never did. Somehow the pavilion seemed to be getting smaller and the air thinner as one thought hammered through her brain, again and again and again; where is Zuko? Where is Zuko? Where is Zuko? He’s been allowed to go home. He’s at home, probably sleeping by this time. It’s fine. Her racing pulse called her own thoughts out as lies. She was at her breaking point, about to stand up and start screaming for answers, when Zhao reached out and placed his hand on hers. His touch interrupted her chaotic thoughts and she realized she had been sitting with her hands clenched on the table, staring at Iroh, hardly blinking. Her head jerked over to look at him and though a small smile was in place on his lips, his eyes warned her to remember her place.
She cast her gaze down at her untouched food and withdrew her hands to her lap. Still her heart raced on. Time was slowing; as the dinner went on each minute took longer than the last to pass until she was sure it was about to stop altogether. She put food in her mouth and mechanically chewed, hardly aware of what it was; she might as well had been chewing on sawdust as her mouth had inexplicably gone dry. Iroh’s refusal to make eye contact only seemed to confirm something had gone wildly wrong. Did his expression seem depressed and tired or was she projecting her own fears onto him? And then finally the plates were cleared and Zhao was standing to make his speech; the last before launching the attack on the Northern Water Tribe. Random phrases reached her through the fog of fear that had settled over her; the words seemed meaningless to her. Words like glory for the Firelord and themselves, defeat of the savages who for years had thought themselves untouchable, the capture of the Avatar. She sat, seemingly paralyzed, as the men cheered and converged on Zhao, all wanting to shake his hand and bow and make their faces known to their leader; if this battle went well, many would receive promotions. It was then, while Zhao was surrounded, Iroh’s eyes flicked up to meet hers and in those few seconds, Aria felt her hear sink down into the floor; those eyes had been filled with sorrow and pity and…smouldering anger?
The men began exiting the tent though Iroh and Zhao remained; Aria might as well have been glued to the spot. They were alone; the tent had become so silent that she could hear her blood pounding in her ears.
“As I’m sure you’re wondering, Iroh has agreed to serve as my general for this campaign.” Zhao stated blandly.
Aria cleared her throat, preparing to ask the question, but only managed to look at Iroh, her expression asking for her, willing him to tell her.
“I know you and Zuko were very good friends.” Iroh said, almost delicately, “You should know… I’m so sorry, Aria; Zuko was killed in an explosion. By the pirates who captured you earlier this year.”
But Aria hadn’t heard the explanation of who had been behind it; she had already started shaking her head, denying the words Iroh had spoken. They weren’t true. Why was he lying to her?
“No. Don’t say that.” Her voice took on a horrible pleading tone and she continued to shake her head, “Just don’t say that. Please don’t say that.”
Her eyes flicked back and forth between the two men, waiting for one of them to declare it all some horrible joke but they only watched her; one with pitying eyes and the other with morbid curiosity. Her vision blurred as tears welled but she could hear a terrible, high keening noise and it took a minute before she realized the sound was emanating from her own throat. With the realization, the tears spilled over and she could see again. It wasn’t possible; he was supposed to be home. She couldn’t process the information; there could be no world without Zuko. It was unfathomable. She hadn’t heard him move but suddenly she could feel Zhao’s arms trying to pull her in close and she reacted without thought. She lashed out at his face, wanting to maim, to destroy that horrible smile that taunted and delighted in her misery.
“He was supposed to go home!” She screamed until her voice cracked. Her nails left deep gouges across his jawbone and cheek, “You promised!”
He flinched back, his hand going to his face involuntarily; at the sight of the blood on his hand, his expression darkened and he made a grab for her again, this time effectively trapping her hands and pulling her against him.
“You knew!” She tried to scream in a broken voice, “You knew he was dead!”
“You’ll have to excuse us, General.” Zhao said tersely, holding onto a struggling Aria, “As you can see she’s deeply disturbed by the news.”
With his words, the fight seemed to drain out of Aria and she collapsed into him; his arms were the only thing preventing her from sinking to the ground. Huge wracking sobs seemed to split her lungs apart and though she could hear Iroh respond, the words held no meaning for her. Was there meaning in anything anymore? Without another word, Zhao carried her from the tent and through the streets to their quarters. Seeing them approaching, the manservant swung the door open but not fast enough; Zhao shouldered the it open and pushed rudely past the shocked man and down the hallway. Outside eyes would perhaps see a devoted and caring man concerned for his fiancé but when the door to their room slid shut behind them, he dumped her in a chair and spun on his heel, exiting the room.
It was an hour before she was able to stop her sobbing and she pulled her feet up under her as tight as she could, trying to hold herself together when it felt as though she had been torn asunder. Uncontrollable tremors shook her entire body and tears continued down her face in a well beaten track. The impossible had happened; Zuko was gone. Her chest ached as if his death had taken something vital from her, something she couldn’t survive without. Zhao had known; he had told her she would be punished. She couldn’t imagine anything more terrible. She tried to care, tried to become angry, but couldn’t; it didn’t seem to matter.
She had no concept of the time that passed before the tears ceased and her body relaxed into something akin to lethargy. Her head lolled back onto the back of the chair and she stared unseeingly at the steel ceiling; she couldn’t comprehend Zuko being gone. It was as if the sun itself had quit rising, despite the world’s belief in its infallibility. The door opened, Zhao entered. Without a word he opened the dark mahogany cabinet, poured two glasses, and shoved one unceremoniously into her hand.
She didn’t pause to consider the contents of the glass, only tossed it back and shuddered as the liquor went down. She revelled in the intense burn as it settled in her stomach; how many times had she seen Zhao find happiness with the dark amber liquid? Fortified by the warmth that filled her all the way to her fingertips, Aria made eye contact with Zhao as he refilled her glass. The claw marks she had left on his jaw had been bandaged expertly and a small, detached bubble of pleasure surfaced before another wave of grief swept over her and she had to close her eyes to prevent fresh tears.
“I thought-” Her voice cut out and she had to remain silent for a moment to ensure the next time she tried to talk, she wouldn’t start sobbing. She swallowed and began again, “I thought this stuff was supposed to make you forget.”
“If you want to forget tonight, you’ll have to drink more than that.” Zhao answered, his tone hostile.
She opened her eyes and looked at him again; he was picking at the bandage and staring at her in anger. She realized he was still furious about the clawing but didn’t care; they both knew there was nothing he could do to make this night worse. The alcohol slowed her thoughts but had so far had no effect on the acute pain that made her want to scream. She downed the second glass, grimacing at the burn though this one went smoother. When Zhao made no move to provide more, she reached unsteadily for the bottle on the table between them. Seemingly impossibly fast to her, Zhao grabbed her wrist to stop her but was unprepared for her reaction. She stared for a second before, with a snarl, she stood and blasted him out of the sitting area.
“You will not touch me again!” Aria yelled, her voice hoarse from crying. She watched Zhao jump to his feet, slapping at her fire on his sleeve that had cooled from blue to orange in mere seconds. As soon as she had stood up, the alcohol took hold and her head spun as Zhao’s face turned murderous. His movements were too quick, her reactions too slow; by the time she had raised her fists to send another fire blast, he was there, swatting away her lead arm and grabbing her other painfully.
“Never been drunk, have you?” He growled acidly as he reeled her in against his chest. “Slows your reaction time.”
“Don’t touch me!” Her voice elevated once more to screaming. Her arms confined, she slammed her head repeatedly against his chest as hard as she could and kicked awkwardly at his shins. She was beginning to feel quite sick.
“I was willing to give you a few days for that stupid boy but if your behaviour continues, I will correct it.” Zhao said loudly over the sound of her crying again. She didn’t respond. “You’re done for the night.”
When he tried to steer her to the bed, she began struggling again.
“I will not spend one more night in that bed. I won’t!” She couldn’t stomach the thought. This was never supposed to happen; it was supposed to be Zuko who held her at night, who kissed her and told her everything was okay. Zhao wasn’t having it; he sat on the bed, taking her down with him, and Aria began flailing like mad. Before long she found her arms crossed across her body like a strait jacket and Zhao’s legs hooked around hers, effectively immobilizing her. The room was silent but for their heavy panting, Aria had struggled like a wounded platypus bear.
Another intense bolt of anguish lanced through her chest and her body went limp, the fight gone. Her face screwed up as great, gasping sobs ripped out of her throat, making her grief a real, tangible thing. How was she supposed to ever move past this?
“How easy it turned out to break you.” Zhao said, she could hear the sneer in his voice, “One honourless boy and you’re falling apart.”
“Stop.” Aria managed to cry.
“It was such a valiant effort at martyrdom on your part.” Zhao hissed venomously in her ear, “Somehow I doubt he would have returned the favour. Had regaining his honour been threatened, you’d have been forgotten.”
Aria could only shake her head in protest, unable to form coherent words.
“You don’t agree? How much effort did he put into finding you after he realized you left the Fire Nation? None, the Avatar had the entire of his attention; you were disposable. He’s the Prince, of course he could have found a replacement for you.” Zhao continued silkily.
Though she didn’t reply, the words seemed to blow another hole through her ribcage and the pain of it took her breath away. Zhao fell silent, knowing he had achieved the kill shot. When she had clawed him in the tent, he had been furious. Then she had sent him flying with a blast of fire and the fury escalated and though his hands itched to give her a real reason to cry, he knew his words could do far more damage than anything physical ever could. He could feel her body begin to tremble violently and a victorious smile passed across his face; handling her would be much easier. She had lost this battle of wills.
Slowly exhaustion pulled at Aria and her eyes grew heavy; the combination of alcohol and sobbing had taken its toll. She slept fitfully though thankfully she failed to dream; it allowed her a brief respite. When wakefulness came, it was all at once and sudden. Her eyes opened and she had a few seconds to take in her situation before a crippling surge of despair washed over her. Several silent tears slid down her face; the hysterics were over, leaving behind a cold, mind numbing desolation. Nobody could handle this kind of pain and continue on; it was impossible. Sometime during the night she had sought comfort in Zhao’ arms; she was huddled up against his chest and his arms encircled her completely. She realized she didn’t even care; it was such a small offense in the light of Zuko’s death. Her bottom lip trembled and she hid her face further against Zhao’s chest and wished desperately that sleep would claim her once more; it was so much easier than reality.
Aria lay this way for a long time, occasional tears spilling over, before Zhao stirred. He extracted his arm from under her head and sat up. After a cursory glance in her direction, he stood and began dressing.
“You look horrible.” He stated bluntly. How long ago had Kon said those exact words to her? It seemed like she had been a completely different person. “We’re leaving port within two hours. You need to get dressed.”
Aria stood without argument and began pulling her clothes on. Her fingers fumbled on the ties of her boots, taking much longer than usual to get them laced. Several times she paused to wipe tears from her eyes before they had the chance to escape down her cheeks and she was constantly sniffling. When she finally looked up, she jumped slightly in alarm; Zhao was gone. In his place stood the woman who had helped her dress for the dinner, watching her dispassionately. She hadn’t heard their coming and going.
“You’ve been crying.” She observed.
Aria didn’t respond, only continued looking at her, feeling as if she had more to say.
“It’s too bad when things don’t go your way, isn’t it?” The woman spat out, her tone hostile. “Did your husband not buy you the necklace you wanted? Did he actually tell you no?”
Aria stared at her, bewildered and unable to determine the cause of this attack.
“You people disgust me. You have never missed a meal, nor a roof over your head, soon you will own this world yet you still find reason to complain. I cannot fathom-”
“No.” Aria stated abruptly, interrupting her. Her voice quivered with emotion. “Do not put those assumptions on me. I have lost the man I love. I gave up everything for his safety and now he is dead. So do not stand there and pass judgement on me.”
It was the first time she had said it out loud and hearing it from her own mouth gave his death a horrible sort of finality; it was as if avoiding talking about it would make it untrue.
“Admiral Zhao is not the man you love.” The woman stated, her face softening slightly. Aria let out one short, humourless laugh before responding.
“He is the man I despise. Why are you here? We’re leaving.”
“I’m to be your maid while you remain here and you haven’t left yet; let me comb your hair.” The woman answered in a motherly voice.
Minutes later, Aria sat in one of the low chairs with the Earth Kingdom woman standing behind, gently pulling a comb through Aria’s hair. With the woman’s gentle but persistent prompting, Aria gradually revealed how she had come to be with Zhao, interrupted only by occasional bouts of tears.
“I don’t understand how this could have happened.” She stated, “How can someone like Zhao be getting everything he wants? He’s bad. And it’s not just him. My father, the Firelord, they always win. Zuko tried to do what he thought was right and he ended up banished and then killed. What’s the point? I want to know what staying moral and good accomplishes. It seems like nothing but misery to me.”
“Don’t ever think that way. It’s that train of thought that allows them to win.” The woman said fiercely, “It is not for us to see the end result of the big picture. It’s our job to trust the process and continue making the decisions that are right and good.”
“I gave Zhao everything. I gave up my freedom. I gave up any chance of being with Zuko just so I could know he was safe at home. And now he’s dead. Even my attempts at helping the Avatar came to nothing.” Aria answered bitterly, “Don’t tell me trying to be good ends with good. Don’t act like you know what I’m feeling.”
“Listen to me. It’s when the good people of the world give up that evil is allowed to flourish.” She said urgently. She came around the chair to look Aria in the eyes, as if determined to make her listen, “Neither my husband nor my son will ever return from battle. They died. They didn’t have a nasty bone in their body and they died. I do know how you’re feeling. I have to remind myself every day that they died to save their people. I don’t tell you the right decision will always be comfortable but it is necessary. Every time you compromise, it’s that much easier the next time and before you realize, you’re one of the bad people you speak of.”
Aria immediately felt guilty at the woman’s words but said nothing. She contemplated what she had heard for a long time. Was that what had happened to her father? She had countless memories of when she had been young and her father had made time for her every day; she couldn’t remember exactly when their relationship had started changing, turning distant and cold. She did remember by the time she was ten she had started avoiding him. Had years counselling the Firelord made him forgo his morals? Her lip curled back slightly and she shook her head; it didn’t matter. Zuko was dead. Dead.
“Thank you for your wisdom.” Aria eventually answered, mostly because it seemed expected of her. The woman nodded though her face was worried, had this girl truly understood her message?
A loud rapping knock resounded through the room and the Earth Kingdom woman stood quickly to open it; sailors stood ready to transfer their quarters to the ship. Aria stood and faced the woman and they regarded each other with newfound respect for several seconds. Aria bowed and that was the last she saw of the Earth Kingdom woman; she didn’t even know her name. She didn’t move for several minutes as the men hustled around her. Horrible sadness seemed to radiate from her chest through the rest of her body and suddenly she was just so tired.
With sudden inspiration, she turned to the desk and searched the unlocked drawers, finding what she was looking for in the second one down. The bag was heavy, more than what she would need but she took it all anyway.
“Xan, I need a favour.” She had found the man in his usual spot, waiting just outside the door. Aria had always wondered what he did to keep himself from boredom. “Do you still have the list from the market vendors?”
“Yes, miss.” Xan answered, his eyes lingering over her puffy eyes and pale cheeks.
“I need you to take this and pay my debt.” She stated, her voice sounding subdued as she deposited the bag of gold in his hands.
“You can take me back to the ship first or if there is someone else you trust, you can give them the list.” Aria added, noting his hesitation.
“I would be happier making sure you were safe on the ship first but then, I will make sure those people are paid.” Xan assured her, still eyeing her in concern.
“Thank you. I’m ready to go now.” Aria said, moving aside to let men carrying furniture pass by.
“May I ask a question?” Xan asked. Aria nodded and he continued, “Are you…well?”
Aria had fully intended to answer with a conclusive yes but, looking at the man in front of her, her throat closed up and, to her horror, tears filled her eyes. She gave a jerky nod and spun on her heel and marched down the hallway. As much as she hated herself for thinking it, she almost wished that sometime very soon she’d be over Zuko. Anything would be better than this. This aching pain that could elevate into unbearable sharpness without warning. It would almost had been better if she hadn’t loved him in the first place rather than know this raw, naked loss. She was able to recognize that thought as untrue but it did little to comfort her.
The sun was barely visible over the horizon, sending tentative tendrils of pale pink and brilliant red into the fading night when they stepped onto the gangplank. With a respectful bow, Xan left her in Zhao’s quarters to carry out her request. The room had a silence so deep that Aria could hear an odd ringing. Nothing had changed; the sailors had been efficient, the furniture sat exactly where it had been before they moved to shore. It was heart breaking in its own way; this room seemed to mock with its unchanging nature that Aria’s world had changed so completely. Shortly after, the ship gave a small lurch and began rocking gently; they were moving back out to open ocean. Zhao’s quarters were too well placed to hear them but Aria knew the great pistons of the engines would be driving them swiftly to the North Pole.
For three days, Aria remained in the room and ate little and slept even less. Zhao was rarely seen except at night when he promptly undressed and crashed in the bed; there was much to do to prepare for the invasion of the Northern Water Tribe and he left early in the morning and returned late.
“You’re done moping around this room.” Zhao stated loudly, jerking Aria out of a dozing half sleep.
“I’m done when I’m done.” Aria answered emotionlessly.
“And I say that’s now.” Zhao said, his tone warning against an argument, “You will resume your normal routine; from what I understand you spent time bending topside and ate with the officers. Your absence has been noted and it won’t do to have my betrothed pining after the dead prince.”
“I cannot stop grieving him on your command so if you’d like me to do so in front of your men, it is your decision.” Aria responded sardonically.
“You will present an untroubled, content face to the rest of this ship despite whatever misplaced feeling you are having.” Zhao said calmly, “I gave you time. Now get over it.”
“I don’t have to.” Aria said, meeting his eyes with a cold stare, “He’s dead. The deal is over.”
“Was he really everything to you?” Zhao asked, raising an eyebrow, “So much that his death has made you forget those two Water Tribe peasants? Or what about Kon? I can’t believe you’d so quickly forget his welfare.”
“Don’t hurt them.” Aria said tiredly. A pang of fear hit her though it was dwarfed next to the grief she had been feeling; she couldn’t handle the thought of losing them too.
“Don’t force me to.” Zhao retorted. Aria didn’t respond, only closed her eyes and hoped when she opened them again, she’d be somewhere else. The door opened and closed and she could sense she was alone. She didn’t know the length of time she lay there before a metallic knock forced her to her feet to answer the door. Xan stood with an unfamiliar man and Aria looked at them expectantly.
“General Iroh extends an invitation to take tea in his rooms.” The stranger said. Declining the invitation was tempting; being polite and civil seemed beyond her ability but it was Iroh. He too had lost someone dear to him.
“Give him my thanks and tell him I’ll attend on him shortly.” Aria answered before shutting the door. Quickly she washed her face in the shallow basin and pulled her hair back into a topknot; it wouldn’t do to go out from these rooms looking less than what Zhao expected. It wasn’t until she had bent down to wipe her boots clean that she realized she was stalling and was slightly bemused; why wouldn’t she want to see Iroh? As if asking the question summoned the answer, the reason was immediately apparent; she was terrified of what he wanted to say. She didn’t want to hear of Zuko’s final moments. She didn’t even really want to talk about him at all. If just thinking about him made her want to curl over and hold her sides from the pain, talking would be unendurable.
“I had hoped this would be a tea we would share alone.” Iroh said delicately, offering Aria a fragile porcelain cup. Then addressing Xan, “And so I apologize for not setting a place for you.”
“Thank you sir, I am not here to partake. Only to fulfil my orders.” Xan answered respectfully and bowed.
“I’m sorry General. Zhao fears for my safety and so sets him to follow me unless I retire to our own quarters.” Aria explained. She and Iroh sat at a low table set with tea things and a small tray of cakes while Xan stood as inconspicuously against the wall as he could.
“It’s of no matter.” Iroh said smiling gently. Aria couldn’t help but think he seemed disappointed. “Please, help yourself to the cakes.”
“Thank you.” Aria said and took one out of politeness; she hadn’t had an appetite since it happened.
“Soon we’ll be far North enough the weather will be far below freezing.” Iroh stated, “Many underestimate the importance of eating enough to stay warm. It’s even more essential than all the cloaks and blankets to be found on this ship.”
“I heard the ice fields of the North are glorious to look upon.” Aria responded, ignoring his subtle hint at eating.
“Ah, yes, beautiful but deadly. It’s an inhospitable land.” Iroh said seriously, “But it’s the lights that are the true pride of the North. They dance across the sky in colours that only exist there.”
“It sounds beautiful.” Aria said.
After pouring more tea, Iroh settled into a conversation on tea. Aria had no idea there was so much to know about it; to her tea was something that served when one was thirsty, nothing more. It was a conversation she would have listened to with interest a short while ago; now it was enough to sit and act as if she was listening intently. Suddenly she realized Iroh was silent; how long had he been done talking?
“Aria, sometimes we think the people we have lost are beyond our reach,” Iroh said carefully, watching her pick at the small cake, “But if you look hard enough, we find they never really left.”
Aria stared at him for a long time without answering; usually she had fun trying to decipher Iroh’s odd sayings. Today she wanted to demand he speak plainly or get up and retreat to her room.
“Your words are truly comforting.” She said dutifully. Confusion flared when Iroh’s face turned briefly to frustration before composing back into the serene look he normally wore. Was he frustrated with her?
“I’m glad I could offer such comfort.” Iroh said smoothly.
“I miss him.” Aria stated quietly.
“My nephew was resourceful and smart; it’s odd to think such thugs could have succeeded in their mission.” Iroh said in an odd voice. “Almost unbelievable.”
“Yes…he was.” Aria agreed tentatively. She felt as if she was missing a vital point of Iroh’s words but had no idea what it was. “I…have to go. I’m expected to take lunch with Admiral Zhao. Thank you for your kindness.”
“It was my pleasure.” Iroh answered, inclining his head, “I hope you’ll consider coming again.”
Aria set her teacup down gently and got to her feet. She hesitated, feeling as if there was something more to be said, but then walked out. That she was expected to take lunch with Zhao was a lie but she couldn’t bear talking about Zuko one second longer; Iroh being here was a constant reminder that Zuko wasn’t. It was all she could do to keep the tears from falling as she hurried back to Zhao’s quarters; was she weak as Zhao had seemed to be implying? Was it a fault that she could hardly think of Zuko without feeling as though the world had come to an end? Leaving Xan at the door, she threw herself on the bed and tried to prepare herself for facing the officers during meal time.