Mai is a disgraced governor’s daughter. She’s a noblewoman, Lady Mai. A past marriage prospect. The now institutionalized Fire Princess’s former-confidant. A key to Princess Azula’s brief takeover of Ba Sing Se. A former-traitor to the nation. Prince Zuko’s lost love, then Firelord Zuko’s tóng qi. A reminder of the Fire Nation’s past apathy-bordering-disdain for the other nations. A master knife-thrower. The Boiling Rock ex-warden’s niece. The “gloomy girl who sighs a lot,” even(At least, according to Zuko’s Southern Water Tribe Ambassador-slash-lover). She’s a performance of all these identities and more.
She’s never just Mai. Mai, who has the same kind of attractions as Zuko for a certain master chi-blocker, a little brother of which there’s little she wouldn’t do for, an aunt who’s the only adult relative she has without any expectations for her, and a mother who tries her best to improve now but ultimately doesn’t know what her better should be.
She’s not even sure why she’s complaining. This little reality of hers, a reality she’s probably known since she was a kid, only ever haunts her late at night anyway. It grabs at her mind when it’s too quiet for even her to enjoy the silence, Ty Lee sleeping next to her in a heavy slumber, no one to passively complain towards.
It’s not like it hasn’t gotten better. Really. Ever since the war’s ended a weight she didn’t know she had on her chest has lightened substantially. She finds herself habitually hiding smiles or laughs less and less by the day. The Kyoshi Warriors have become something she could consider calling friends, and her and Ty Lee have never been closer before. What they have is deeper than she even understands, so they have yet to give it a name. Somehow, against all odds she’s even sparked a friendship with the Avatar and the Water Tribe boy. From what Zuko tells her, Azula too has been starting to mellow out and accept how shitty their father was. She hasn’t visited her yet, doesn’t know if she will gain the courage to anytime soon, but the thought of such still comforts something unnameable within her. All in all, she’s living her best life.
Even so, there’s still something… disquieting always tugging at the back of her mind. It’s easier to express herself, and everyone around her has openly stated that she’s more than allowed to, but that doesn’t mean she will. It doesn’t mean she’ll let herself, so unused to the feeling of what could be called freedom it borders on uncomfortable. Conditioning doesn’t leave just because her teachers do. She’s never felt that specific sensation more than now. Not making a borderline-rude remark even if she doesn’t mean it and not sighing in replacement of an actual opinion to things feels plain wrong.
She knows she isn’t the worst off. Mai knows. She’s seen Zuko’s breakdowns through the cracks of doors from the strain of running a war-torn country at 16, silent as if learned to do so but still so harrowing to watch. She’s seen the Avatar’s subdued smiles and low-hanging shoulders whenever reminded of his people’s genocide, low with the weight of having to maintain not only that knowledge but the weight of restoring a whole lost culture in any way possible. She’s heard Ty Lee’s voice whenever talking about her home life and what led her to the circus, peppiness more fabricated than usual. After all, it’s the requirement of a noblewoman to notice any and all details of body language.
Her trauma(if she even deserves to call it that) is no comparison to theirs’. She could’ve had worse, she should be grateful for how her life’s gone. She’s not about to let herself become a living, breathing pity party.
Okay, so she’s ‘emotionally repressed’. So what? She’s said it before. She’s always gotten what she wanted through the years(at the cost of her self-worth, her mind likes to spit bitterly). Considering her role in the war, even if brief, she’s been let off pretty easily. Putting it that way, there should be little to be upset about. Yet here she is, constantly waxing poetic to herself about her… issues. Just calling them issues puts a foul taste in her mouth.
Sometimes(a lot of the time really) these ruminations end up leading back to the same things. Questions. Questions like why? Why? Why can’t she let herself change, when everyone else is doing so much of it everyday? What would even go wrong if she let herself openly feel, just a little?
Because, her brain always responds to her chagrin, if you were to feel you’d do so screaming and crying and howling with laughter. A force of nature.
The Fire Nation’s always been more progressive in terms of gender than most, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t still standards to meet. Women, especially those of noble status, are still better off seen and not heard. Mai isn’t destined to be a force of nature. If it’s tried, you burn up. Like Azula. If it’s tried, you flee. Like Ty Lee. If it’s tried, you’re used. Like Lady Ursa(Her poorly timed disappearance next to Azulon’s death and Ozai’s rise is by far an open secret). It’s not in the cards for her to express fully.
She’s been raised for this forced unfeeling. It’s her greatest talent, even more so than knife-throwing and sarcastic quips. Zuko, too earnest himself to understand other people’s facades, would think her the greatest actor he knows if he was aware of this. It’s muscle memory. But. Sixteen years.
Sixteen years, and it’s still so exhausting. She’s still just as exhausted as the first time her parents took her to a formal and the night ended with a disappointed sigh from father and a sickly sweet lecture from mother about how she shouldn’t have been so improper. And for what? For simply being. Mai just can’t be. At least not 24/7.
Mai’s not stupid. Noblewomen must know all the gossip available to them. She’s heard the citizens’ whispers behind her back when they think she’s not near to listen. How cold she can be. The wonders of why Zuko thinks her so important to have free roam of the palace or why she gets such a warm reception at and from Kyoshi Island. She’s even heard the concerned rants from Zuko to Sokka or Ty Lee to Suki about how she seems so lost. Lost, really? If anything, she’s finding too much of herself everyday. She finds herself and doesn’t know what to do with the information gained. Maybe she’s a bit lost in that sense.
Again though, sometimes. Sometimes she’ll look to those around her and dare to hope. She’ll look to the blind earthbender who seems to have adopted her fake-boyfriend as a brother, so self-assured as she takes life by the individual day. She looks to the waterbender, simultaneously a healer and fighter, one of the most open people she knows with her emotions. She looks to Suki, a leader who’s got to have some burdens but lives so coolly and is still so comfortably girlish. She looks to Azula, even, who really had no one but the false love of her father, didn’t even have her and Ty Lee by the end but still tried so hard to be her best self. She looks to Ty Lee, who’s been dealt with some pretty tough cards in life despite her denial but still looks for the best in everyone and everything, including Mai. Especially Mai.
She looks to them and every other positive change to the world around her. She dares to hope. Challenges herself to want to be better. If everyone around her can try to be okay, so can she. She can be okay. She isn’t now, and probably won’t be anytime soon, but she will be. She will.