FicWad

And She Watches the Fire: Part 2




That was nearly five years ago. I went from being an apprentice to a Princess in the blink of an eye because my father, like my mother, didn't try to hide me from his people now that I had arrived. The shock of my parents' indiscretion was not as big a surprise to the Fire Nation, whose aristocratic history was filled with intrigue and lies, but the rest of the world buzzed about it for years afterwards.

Uncle stayed for the first year but had to return or else face the wrath and possible rock hurling of my aunt. He and my father have a strange relationship, one I compare to two snake-sharks circling each other in the water, but it is clear to me that there is a mutual respect there. It's just that too much has happened and they can't go beyond that anymore.

My half-siblings took a little longer getting used to me, but in time, they came to accept me. Princess Zara is one of my closest friends as I am hers and she never stops saying how glad she is to finally have a sister. Prince Taku teases me about being a master of all things soggy but I enjoy having an older brother and am reminded of Mom's stories of how Uncle used to torture her, especially when Taku interrupts my Waterbending with a well-aimed fire blast through my water. Their mother, however, is a different story but I've made my peace with the fact that she will never warm up to me. I'm not so sure I can blame her.

My father, I am happy to say, deserves all the love my mother had for him and now all of my love. He doesn't have much of a sense of humor-something Uncle enjoys pointing out-but he is as honorable as they come and loves his family to distraction. Taku benefits from his patient teaching and Zara from his wise words, and both are spoiled mercilessly by him. Because he's missed out on my first 17 years, he's promised me more than once that he'll make up for lost time.

Dad and I spent hours in the garden, sitting by the turtle-duck pond. He likes to hold my hand as if he needs to remind himself that I'm really there. He watches me bend, laughing when I make silly shapes with the water, but most of the time we talk. I noticed that he listens to me as closely as he does his advisors. He remembers everything I say which touches my heart. He's told me stories of his life before he became the Avatar's Firebending teacher and after. He's told me stories of his life after he became Fire Lord, from the grand to the ridiculous. And sometimes, he talks about my mother but I can see that it hurts him as much as it hurts her to remember that part of their lives. I can't imagine loving someone so deeply but I'm young still and he tells me I'll be lucky to love that much.

You'll have to excuse me if I don't exactly call that being lucky.

Mom never visited once but sent me lots of letters. I knew she was hurt that I decided to stay for such a long time but she understood why I did. Dad gets quiet when he sees those letters arrive, but he doesn't ask about her and I don't say anything.

The day I leave, he, Zara and Taku stand by the docks. There are no handlers, no courtiers, and only two guards standing far enough away to give us our privacy. The Fire Lady doesn't come, having said her goodbyes to me the night before. We stare at each other, this strange family of mine, and when Dad holds out his arms to me, I run into them. He doesn't cry but he trembles and I can feel the heat coming off his body like a fire. His expression is stoic but his eyes are sadder than I have ever seen them. We make promises to see each other again soon, which is true. Zara and I will meet in the Earth Kingdom in three months time and Taku will be journeying to the South Pole in a month. But Dad...

I stare at him the longest, remembering his face and vowing never to forget a single detail. This man, this King, my father. In his eyes I see what might have been, if he wasn't who he was. I see him and my mother, together the way they want to be.

Before I board the ship, he presses something into my hand. Parchment, like the one my mother received years ago, but wound around it is a pendant on a red ribbon. I look at it closely and see a symbol that is familiar yet not. When I hold it up to the sun, I see that it's fire and water, intertwined. And in my mind's eye I remember the letter Dad's uncle brought to Mom, the seal that had pressed it closed. It was their symbol.

My tears fall.

I don't watch the Fire Nation as I leave. I don't want to imagine Dad standing at the docks, an arm around my sister, my brother's hand on his shoulder. I don't want to imagine the angry, bitter face of the Fire Lady at her window, watching me leave and probably thinking good riddance. Instead, I point my face towards my home and think of my mother, sitting by the fire, waiting for me and waiting for him.







She's not waiting by the fire but outside the house when I come walking up the familiar pathway. Her face lights up in a way I remember and I'm happy to see that little has changed since I've left. Her arms are as comforting as always, though I'm much taller than she is now and she has to stretch to reach me. Before I know it, I'm sitting by the fire, my boots off and a plate of seal jerky on my lap. I devour it eagerly.

When I finish, she tosses question after question and although I was worried about how she would react to stories of my siblings and of my time in the Fire Nation, she takes it all very well. There's nothing artificial about her enthusiasm and her empathy for my experience, and I remember then what a wonderful woman she is. But we skirt around the more obvious bit of news she wants to hear.

We're quiet for a time and then she asks in a low voice how he is. Without a word, I hold out the letter with its necklace. She removes it, a trembling hand held to her lips. She turns away from me, faces the fire as she reads his letter. I try not to peek but I can't help it and I see a few words. Important words. Mom cries and tries to tie the necklace around her neck but her hands tremble too much.

Gently, I take the necklace from her and do what she can't. She bows her head, crying her silent tears. I put my hands on her shoulders, offering what little comfort I can and she puts one hand over mine. Raising her head, her blue eyes settle on the fire before her, but sees the man she'd left so many years before.

And she watches the fire.




-fin-