Chapter 20: The Threads That Bind
Scorn the distance, scorn past hurts,
The threads that bind are those that keep,
So try to hide, to run, avert,
The wind finds all it tries to seek.
Wind trailed its languid fingers in her hair. Somewhere along the way, while she’d been running for their lives, it had come a little loose. Mai didn’t have the strength to reach behind and pull it back. Not to mention she didn’t have the hands...
The sound of claws drew closer, and then stopped. The change made the senbon feel heavier in her fingers, like drops of blood waiting to spring. Mai gripped the grass below her, feeling a strange calm pass through her. She didn’t want to die. Not now. And although death looked as if it were becoming a definite possibility, she certainly wasn’t going to take it lying down.
Or alone.
She heard a faint groan behind her. She was too tired to turn around and check on its source. Nevertheless, Mai was fairly certain that this battle was her own, for obvious reasons. The memory of Katara’s blood clouding before it was pulled away by the river was still too fresh, still too visceral. She shook herself free from it and concentrated again.
There. Two soft steps, almost lost amongst the creaking wood as the wind kissed the earth and ran through the trees. Mai heard the faint rustle of leaves underneath claws. Whoever they were, they were moving towards them. Softly, softly... she counted eight steps in ten seconds. Two of them, then. Mounted.
Her fingers tightened yet again. She had two senbon left. How ironic.
Mai felt her pulse in her skin, felt it humming through her veins with adrenaline. The sound of the claws had stopped. She held her breath and waited. Death was coming, and she was going to meet it with two sharp needles before she was done. That thought alone stopped anything remotely resembling fear from materialising.
There was a quiet, reptilian whicker. Like the silence before the storm. And then the trees before her seemed to burst outwards, and things suddenly happened very, very fast.
Two basilisks shot out of the undercover, scales gleaming dully in the night. Mai surged forth from her position, hands outstretched for two killing blows. The senbon left her simultaneously, the metal singing through the air. One whistled through empty space over a riderless mount. Mai didn’t have time to blink as she followed the other with her eyes, watching it head unerringly to the centre of a black-clad chest...
And then it wasn’t. Mai watched as her last needle flew uselessly into the distance as the man nimbly twisted away. That was it, then, she thought blankly. Now all she had left was herself. Her legs faltered beneath her. It was hard to stand. The basilisks came to a sudden halt and the single rider leapt off and closed the distance between them. One step away, he stopped as if he’d seen a ghost.
Mai took the opportunity to stumble forwards and tackle him to the ground. There was a whoosh of air as they both fell, and then her hands were drawn to his throat and she pushed with the last of her strength. He gasped and tried to pry her fingers away. Her nails bruised his flesh. His scrabbled her skin. Her arms trembled. She wasn’t sure who was going to give out first. He was choking, wheezing, and she wasn’t sure if he was trying to say something or if he was simply trying to breathe. Her own exertion pushed spots behind her own eyes for a moment, and then before she could react the world was twisted upside down. The masked rider threw her off, rolled over, and pinned her with his hips. His hands clenched down on her wrists before she could move.
Mai stopped, and then started again. She was breathing - long, shuddering breaths. He was gasping. Even knowing she was gone, she still struggled against him, and she could see that it was taking a surprising amount of effort to keep her down...
He stopped. He let go. She froze in shock for a second, and then leapt at the chance, reaching forth to flip him over again.
And then he ripped off his mask.
For a moment, time seemed to still. Exhaustion, adrenaline, and moonlight blinded her sight, so much that it took over a second to recognise him. But when she did, she suddenly couldn’t move.
“Mai,” he said, his voice croaky from strangulation. “It’s me.”
8 8 8
The wind ruffled Sokka’s hair, tossing it this way and that as he stood at the railing of the ship. The coast was drawing further and further away, but his right hand remained slightly raised, a sombre gesture of promise and farewell. He kept it up long after the small shape of Zuko standing alone, surrounded by a half ring of guards, had disappeared.
Suki stepped lightly behind him, her arm automatically moving to steady his waist. At her touch, some part of him almost flinched, and he had to turn away when she looked at him oddly.
“Are you all right?” she asked, concern furrowing her brow. “You haven’t said a word since we left. And well, knowing you, that took me by surprise.”
Sokka turned back to her, studying the lines of her face and wondering how to answer. She was so... strong. It made her beautiful, in a different way to what he’d ever expected. He reached out lightly to touch her cheek, cursing himself for his stupidity when she smiled and leaned into his hand. The shame accentuated his honesty.
“I guess I’m worried,” the warrior admitted.
Suki squeezed him tighter once, and then relaxed, her arm hanging loosely around his waist. “You’re always worried,” she said, her voice fond as her other hand came up to mirror his touch. “About things that neither of us can control. What is it this time?”
It was only the tone of her voice, that caring, loving voice, that stopped the words from cutting. It was the tone that informed his rational mind that she was teasing him, that this was another of their jokes And yet, on some level, Sokka felt them hurt. He pushed the thought away as he sank into the honey of her eyes. But his hand dropped to his waist and hung there, open and empty until her own followed and consciously interlinked.
“It’s everything,” he admitted lowly, shreds of shame still clinging to his stomach. “Katara. Zuko. Toph and Aang.” The list felt like it incomplete for a moment, and he frowned as he searched his mind. “Oh... and us.” The words flowed from his mouth faster than he could check them. “I’m not sure what waiting for us at the North Pole, but from what Zuko’s said, I’m worried.”
Suki raised her eyebrow, her gaze sharp and assessing. “You know, for someone who’s been there before, I’m surprised. They’re your sister tribe, Sokka, and from what I’ve heard you were there long enough to get a handle on the place. Surely you know what to expect.” Her lips lifted, “After all, a warrior always remembers his battlefields.”
Sokka couldn’t help it. He matched her smile, and then dipped his head head down quickly to kiss her. “That’s my girl,” he grinned. “Brains with her brawn, that’s what I love.”
But as soon as he said it, he sobered again. Sokka barely caught the faint hint of dismay on Suki’s face before she dropped the smile and cupped his chin in her hands. The move forced him to look back into her eyes.
The spark of laughter was gone. “Sokka. There’s something you’re not telling me. Something more. You’ve... ever since Zuko asked us to go back to the North Pole, you’ve been distant.”
Sokka blinked. Whatever he’d feared, ‘distant’ certainly was what he hadn’t expected. Distant. That wasn’t a word he normally associated with himself. Cocky, yes. Sarcastic, yes. Meat-loving, yes... even warrior and failure made it in there sometime, depending on his circumstances. But distant?
Taking walks on his own. Training up his leg while she sat. Gazing silently out at the night sky while in bed. Sokka swallowed as he realised that that was exactly what he had been, and he winced. If only he’d opened his eyes a little more in the past few days instead of being so worried about what was going on inside himself...
To be honest, that in itself was a luxury. Or at least it had been during the last year. He had been exhausted, so exhausted with making sure everyone was safe. Of acting the big brother. Of always being the first one to step up and fight if need be, with only the security of his wits and his weapons behind him.
And as he looked at Suki now, he saw things he hadn’t for the last few days. Lines. Uncertainty beneath the strength. She caught him looking and looked back. “Don’t shut me out, Sokka,” she said, the plea unworded, but just as strong. “Whatever it is, tell me.”
I should have told her before at Serpent’s Pass. Sokka clenched his fingers slightly. I should have told her before the Comet. His fingers curled. I should have told her before. Before we were on a ship headed to where I failed and she died...
His fist hardened, and then relaxed a little. There was nothing he could do about it now, and Sokka was nothing if not pragmatic. Unbidden, he felt his eyes drift to the sky, instinctively searching for the silver orb that haunted his dreams. It was still late afternoon, and so the brightness of the sun in its home waters burned away any chance he might have to see. But soon, very soon, he knew that he would see her, and that she would be beautiful.
The presence of a warm, physical touch started him back to earth. Sokka turned to see Suki, standing before him. To any other she might have looked no different - tall, straight and confident, a warrior’s grace easily in her stance. But to Sokka, the uncertainty written in her face made her suddenly look very vulnerable. And yet... it meshed perfectly with the confidence in her, the courage. It added a strength to her strength, an inner steel that he had glimpsed only a few times.
It was reassuring. It pulled him down into her, reminded him that she was someone he didn’t have to worry about unless he chose to, because she could take care of herself.
Of course, because he loved her, the choice had been made. But still, the knowledge that she stood strong in her own right beside him was enough to loosen the choke inside him.
Whatever it is, tell me. “It’s a long story,” Sokka finally said. “A long, long story.”
Again, she surprised him. Instead of the expected grimness, the look of relief on her face was almost laughable. And it might have been, too, if it also hadn’t given him the strong urge to kiss her senseless. She was smiling again when they came up for air, her forehead resting against his. And miraculously, Sokka felt his heart rate decrease a little, his blood pressure drop. It felt so right to hold her like this, to be close to her. It felt like going home, even on a ship to the North Pole.
“Well,” she said brightly, “We’ve got one day around the coast until we pick up Hama, and then over a week until we hit the Northern Water Tribes. I’ll say we have time.”
8 8 8
She was getting used to the feeling of wind in her hair. Toph lolled back against the saddle and relaxed, dreamily enjoying its kiss on her cheek. Sure, she didn’t have any of her sweet, precious earth below her, but at least she could also relax. No one could sneak up on them here, or at least no one she’d be able to monitor. The lift of responsibility was a relief.
Of course, there was also the slight fear of falling. Toph scrunched up her nose, remembering her first few trips on Appa. The exultation of being free from her parents had been quickly replaced by the terror of only knowing the fur she gripped, and the idea of losing even that chilled her. With nothing to catch her, and left completely blind... she was the helpless little girl she hated.
Still, enough resolution and experience on Appa had decreased that fear. She hadn’t fallen, not once, and she’d even gotten to the point where she’d trusted that her friends would catch her first. And so even alone in the saddle now, her experience was enough to reduce the terror to an uncomfortable squirm of doubt that she could ignore.
When she had a distraction, anyway.
“So, Twinkletoes. Care to tell me what this trip is for?”
The bald monk started from his position on Appa. “Hmm?”
Toph rolled her eyes. Honestly, sometimes she felt like she had to repeat everything when she was around her friends. She wondered if she should save herself the trouble sometime and just say things twice the first time. “This trip. You didn’t exactly explain why we were going before. Just that you needed to ‘learn stuff’.”
He didn’t say anything. Toph felt it acutely. Up here, there was nothing but the occasional sounds of Appa’s groan and the shrill cry of birds. When both were silent, she could hear nothing but clouds wisping past. And right now, with the vibes she was getting from Aang, that made her nervous.
So she babbled. “I mean, ‘learn stuff’ is so broad. There’s heaps of stuff you still have to learn. We never got that extra earthbending time in for you, and last time I checked you still can’t melt swampmallows as well as Sparky can, and...”
Her own voice sounded loud in her ears, and so she took the plunge. “And... Twinkletoes? What’s wrong?”
Finally, her words elicited a sigh. She felt oddly relieved. She couldn’t see it, but it came from his chest, so long and drawn out that it lifted his feet. “You’re right,” Aang said quietly. “I do have a lot to learn.”
Inexplicably, the response felt like an anticlimax. “Well, duh. So does everyone. Even that creepy spirit owl you guys were telling me about. Come on, Twinkletoes. What is it really?”
From where he was sitting, Aang shifted on Appa’s fur and wondered where to start. Katara. The Avatar State. Katara. My Spirit World visions. Katara. The future. Katara.
“You know what, Toph?” he finally said, and his voice sounded like it was coming from far away. “I’ll let you know. After I speak to the Guru. Because to be honest, I’m just winging it at the moment.”
Aang didn’t turn around, and so he didn’t see the expression that crossed her face. And because of that, he didn’t realise that he’d spoken his earlier thoughts aloud.
Not that it would have mattered. Even Toph didn’t know why she suddenly felt a spike of resentment surge through her chest, and if she had, she wouldn’t have shared. Instead, the little earthbender just snorted and curled herself into a ball for the rest of the trip, letting the sightlessness of both of them consume the silence in between.
8 8 8
The wind whispered through the sudden quiet, and Mai pulled her hands back as if they’d burned her. Agni. It was him, and she didn’t realise how she hadn’t seen it before. Because even though he’d been in her life for such a short time, her eyes fell on his curved jaw, his liquid brown eyes and his half-quirked lips, and she felt as if she knew him.
And quickly after that realisation came another one. He came back.
It was enough to make her forget their position for a moment. Someone came back. But then he shifted, and she was suddenly reminded of how tightly they was pressed together, and how well his legs fit around her hips.
Somehow, it didn’t matter anymore that she was completely spent. She threw him off her and stood, so abruptly that she almost fell again in the process. As for Shen Li, trained reflexes managed to roll him to his feet until they were facing each other again, only this time with a safe distance in between.
Mai didn’t realise she was still breathing. “What are you doing here?” she rasped.
Shen Li didn’t seem to realise he was still staring at her. “You’re alive.”
That was it, but somehow the exchange made Mai’s fists clench. Whether it was partly due to discomfort, or wholly due to irritation, she wasn’t sure. All she knew was that the look on his face was suddenly making her very edgy. She stood her ground, and repeated. “What are you doing here?”
It was as if she were speaking into the wind. He didn’t seem to hear, his gaze focusing as he looked at her. Whatever he saw made him smile crookedly, with half his mouth. “You’re alive,” he whispered, and she heard uncharacteristic emotion filter through the cracks in his voice. “Oh Agni... you’re alive.”
He spoke like a confirmed prayer, like a sceptic who’d seen a miracle, and the trace of awe made her uncomfortable. For someone who’d had emotion bred out of her for years and was only beginning to reacquaint herself with it, she had been exposed to an awful lot in a very short time. Mai felt jittery as he stared, as he murmured “How is that even possible?”, and as he looked at her with that indecipherable expression in his gaze. It was only when he seemed to remember something and the look vanished that her nerves stilled.
Shen Li cocked his head, and the ghost of his smile broadened. “You tried to kill me.”
Mai crossed her arms. She refused to even try to analyse his expression at the moment, and so she ignored it. “I thought you were one of them,” she said belligerently. “The way you burst in through the trees like that... you weren’t exactly proving otherwise.”
“You tried to kill me,” he repeated, shaking his head in amusement. “Twice.”
Annoyance shot through her like an arrow. “And the mask. Why are you wearing a mask?”
The words seemed to snap him out of it, and all of a sudden he was serious again. The black cloth in his hand stretched a little as he settled it back in place. “I took a closer look while I was raiding their camp,” he explained. “All of their scouts wear these, it seems, and so it’s kept them off my back while I’ve been looking for you.”
Mai sat down abruptly.
Part of it was because she was still tired - her newly healed body had just sprinted and dodged over a mile of rough terrain in ten minutes, and the thirty second tussle with Shen Li had taken more out of her than she could have imagined. The other part of it was because she had a lot of information to process, and it just seemed simpler to do it sitting down.
She wet her lips, and started with the easiest question. “You raided their camp?”
“A temporary one,” he said, settling himself down opposite her. The grace of his movements unnerved her, when she was feeling so ill at ease with herself. “Not the main one we were looking for, but the earthbenders who attacked us.”
Mai’s heart sank, even as she revelled in the familiarity of business. “Not the main one? It’s been two days. You’ll have to go back soon, and...”
And all of this will have been for nothing, she wanted to say, but then he interrupted. “And you can carry on.”
Mai said nothing. Her eyes fixed on his hand as it dipped into his tunic, bringing out a sheaf of paper. The way he handled it told her exactly what it was before he handed it to her, and its very existence sent more questions spinning into her mind. Mai took the map without preamble and without reading it.
“Why aren’t you there?” she demanded bluntly, suddenly. Feeling the paper made it real in her hands, and she lifted her head, her amber gaze burning into his. “You have the location, you have the mount, you have the ability. So why?”
Too late, she realised that she didn’t really want to hear the answer, even as a part of her yearned for it. Shen Li tilted his head, giving her a look. With a start, she recognised it as an expression she’d seen on Azula’s face often - the don’t be stupid you know why kind of look. And for some reason that infuriated her even more. “You should be there right now,” her fingers crumpled the parchment a little, agitated. “Not here. You should be completing the mission. You should be...”
“Tell me,” Shen Li said softly, and his gaze was such that she instantly froze. “If our situations were reversed, would you have left me?”
His eyes were magnetic. Mai opened her mouth to say something that rose to her lips out of instinct, something cutting, but he wasn’t finished yet. “Would you have kept going? Would you have just turned your back on the memory of me and continued with the mission?”
Her lungs felt as if she had no air. He kept going, slower now, slightly less sure, and Mai realised with a start that for the first time since she’d met him, she could read his face. The mask was completely gone - his features sagged with life and emotion, the dark rings brushing the top of his cheekbones telling her that he was as exhausted as she felt. He looked as if he hadn’t slept for days. But it was his eyes that told her everything - eyes so open that she felt as if she were drowning in his remembered fear and desperation.
They were beautiful eyes. Eyes that had navigated the same court upbringing she had. Eyes that were overflowing with a million things he couldn’t say, but was now expressing. Eyes that she didn’t know could exist. “Would you have abandoned that chance? Any chance, no matter how slim, that I was still alive?”
She was cold. He was leaning forwards now, his hands half extended to her and his gaze intense. Somehow, the position itself read as an invitation, although to what she wasn’t sure. That, and his presence itself sparked a shiver in her, left behind, nothing special, and she opened her mouth...
And then she remembered that down that path lay hurt, and the last time was still too fresh in her mind for her to risk it. Her jaw snapped shut like a steel trap, and when she spoke, she could almost feel the mask moulding her face. “Yes. I would have.”
She could have said more. Something like Zuko sent us here for information, not to babysit each other. Or no-one asked you to search for a corpse. But she didn’t need to. Shock hovered on his face for a moment, the stunned hurt of a grave miscalculation, and then his features were as smooth as hers had ever been and his hands dropped to his lap.
“Of course,” he said neutrally, and she was surprised at how much flatness could sting. “Well then, we should get moving. Direct me to your camp. I’ll fill you in on everything of utility on the way.”
Before she could even process the change in him, he was rising sharply to his feet and striding away . She found herself scrambling to her feet and following. But as soon as she did, the blood rushed to her head and something akin to regret swept through her as she saw the stiffness of his back.
The call rushed out of her throat before she could think. “Wait.”
He didn’t turn. He just halted, still ramrod straight and facing away from her. “What is it?”
Again, no words seemed to come to her mouth. Her throat felt empty, gaping like a void, and she was reminded of how she’d felt in those first few days of prison, when the renewed stirrings of feeling inside her had only emphasised the rest of her lack of emotion. Mai’s voice cracked when she finally spoke, and what came out certainly wasn’t what she’d been expecting.
“Katara.”
The name made him turn, but she was already stumbling back down to the river bank, cursing herself for forgetting. The waterbender’s eyes fluttered but didn’t open as the noblewoman knelt by her side, hands going under her shoulders as she tried to lift her again. But she was just so tired. What had seemed bearable before when the adrenaline had sung in her veins was now impossible. Katara was not a big girl, but Mai had carried her for over a mile, and she was feeling it. It seemed like she could barely lift her own arm, let alone another’s. But still, she kept trying, her shoes sliding for purchase in the mud as she changed angles and grips... all to the same ineffectual end. She was about to give up in frustration and leave the waterbender be when a black-clad figure joined them by the riverside.
Mai froze in surprise as Shen Li knelt by Katara’s other side, his cool eyes assessing the situation. When he came to a decision, he shifted forwards and hooked his own hands under the girl’s body, mirroring her position. And then his gaze rose to meet hers and he waited.
Mai moved numbly, so unsettled by his neutral face that she barely noticed it when they lifted the waterbender effortlessly between them. Together, they walked the few steps to the waiting basilisk, depositing Katara on the front of the saddle. Then Shen Li turned, offering his hand out in cold civility. She ignored it and swung herself up on the saddle. And it could have been her imagination, but when he remounted as well, she swore his eyes were harder.
Without a word, Mai lifted the reins from around Katara and began to nudge them upstream. Shen Li kept their mounts abreast as if they re-entered the forest. Mai quelled a shiver, the cold night air knifing at her drenched clothing. If it hadn’t been for the fact that Katara was slung in front of her and that there was a frosty silence instead of surprising camaraderie, it could have been two days earlier.
For a reason she refused to acknowledge, Mai felt a strange sense of loss at the realisation. It was entirely irrational, she knew. And yet...
When Shen Li finally spoke, she pounced on the sound with relief. “Well,” he said. his voice still neutral. “I’m glad you found Lady Katara.”
But then when the relief wore off and the words sank in, something hot, like fire, shot through her. “You two know each other?”
Shen Li shrugged. “We met briefly before she left. Anyway, I’m glad. It will make the plan I’ve been considering so much easier.”
Thank Agni for business. Mai felt her clenched insides relax as she looked at him guardedly. “Oh really? What exactly do you have in mind?”
He didn’t smile, and she expected it, and so surprisingly it hurt. “Well, you were right,” the guard captain said blandly, as if he were discussing the weather. “We have the map, we should see to it that we complete the mission. I might have to return to the capitol, but you let it be known yourself that you don’t. And Katara has made it clear that she is not bound either.”
Mai frowned. Even knowing that it shouldn’t, the change in him was affecting her. She tried to shake it off, to no avail. “Get to the point.”
He gave her a look she didn’t want to interpret, but then the coldness of his voice hit her and she didn’t have to. “As you wish, my Lady,” he inclined his head, a faint mocking edge to his tone. “Well, simply put, I think that you two should find our scouts. It shouldn’t be too difficult. Infiltrate the camp, storm it, whatever you like. But get our men out of there.”
The tone of his voice stung, but well... she had asked for it. “You make it sound like a walk in the park,” she commented, deliberately examining her fingernails. After all, two could play at his game. She sighed with affected boredom, drawing it out to wound. “Then again, I guess it’s easy for you to talk. You’re the one running away and leaving us your dirty work.”
She knew it was a low blow before she delivered it, but somehow she didn’t care. It shored up her walls, applying fresh mortar to crumbling stone. And besides, he could take it. She knew he could take it. And he proved her right. Shen Li didn’t stop. He didn’t even pull up his basilisk or launch into a set of histrionics, like certain others she remembered might. Instead, she felt the air ice over, and a warning tingle ran down her spine.
“I never run.” the guard captain said bitingly. But it was his body, not his words, which pinned her. His eyes bored into her own as the basilisks swayed, making them dance up and down in some uneasy rhythm. And yet they could have been alone and still for all she knew, as she matched his stare for stare.
Finally, he moved, and the hold seemed to fade. She blinked, and a slow curl crept up his lip, until his mouth was lifted in a half-smirk.
Considering herself now an expert on his expressions, Mai decided she didn’t like this one.
“Besides,” he continued deliberately, as if there had never been a pause. “You are Lady Mai. Breaking out five scouts? How hard can that be?”
8 8 8
In the darkness of the cavern, there was no wind. There was only a light. A bright light. That was all Ling saw as it circled the room, as it lit up the darkness from the inside out. Every cycle it disappeared, snatched behind the form of a tall, robed man before reappearing on the other side, too far away to make anything but a shadow of the man’s features.
He couldn’t move.
Rock was pressed against his mouth, against his chest, forcing his head upright. This was not what he’d expected. His fellow scouts had said nothing, their eyes curiously blank when they’d been led out of this hideous room. And as the circling light burned ever brighter into his retinas, he was afraid he knew why.
The man kept speaking, but did not stir. “There is no peace in this Nation. There is no peace in our world. There are people who do not understand that.”
It was a low, measured voice. A quiet voice. A reasonable voice. Ling felt a part of his mind fade into it, giving in to that reassuring rhythm even as the other screamed in terror.
By the time they were done, there was dirt and blood in his mouth.
