shatterverse | (no subject)

Entry tags:

iroh fray,
mai

(no subject)

Mai is down to four knives now. If she were fully armed she would simply turn and kill the things chasing her, but there are three of them, and the on that she took down before she started running was way too tough.

And she was pretty sure that if just one of the things got close enough to her she'd be dead.

But they were much better built for the lightly wooded terrain she was crashing through, and they were gaining. There weren't a lot of options open, and she didn't like any of them.

The eerie howling sounds were getting closer. Time to make a decision.

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"It's fine," Mai says flatly. The fact that her voice isn't entirely under control reveals that as a huge lie.

At least to Iroh.

He nods, pretending at least to accept that. "The splint's holding?"

He wants to give her distance for now, otherwise he'd be poking at her again.

When he doesn't push her on it, Mai's shoulders relax almost imperceptibly.

"Yes," she answers shortly. Her eyes flick briefly down at her leg before shifting to focus on him.

She's trying to figure him out.

He just lets her look for now, turning his attention to himself. His shoes are kicked off and left to sprawl on the floor, and he pulls off the outer layer of hs robes - the one he tore to provide medical silk. After a moment's thought, he folds this up neatly.

His outfit is current Fire Nation fashion for Mai's time, and the quality and style suggests nobility. His bearing is a soldier's at best, though, and he doesn't care at all for court manners.

(Despite the best attempts of Mai herself)

He occupies himself soon with readjusting his now-tired ponytail, untying it to tie it more neatly.

His clothes are very good, but clothes can be stolen (even clothes as well-fitting as his), and he certainly didn't look completely comfortable in them. But his hair is far too well-cared for. Those clothes are his no matter how careless he appears.

Her fingers twitch unconsciously toward her own hair when he begins work on his. She goes to great pains to keep people from noticing how careful she is about her hair, and she's suddenly aware of just how ragged it is.

He's actually just thinking about how clothes can be stolen- particularly shoes. Iroh's already dreaming about the thick soled hard wearing boots he wants to get as soon as possible.

The ponytail he starts to tie is in its customary high spot, but thenm he pulls it back further, to the spot he used to wear it in before becoming Fire Lord. Before he even came to the Fire Nation.

But he sees her fingers twitch, and he nods.

"I'll get you a comb." It's almost a promise.

Mai's entire body tenses and her eyes narrow dangerously. "Who are you?"

Because no one has ever read her like this before.

Oh shit.

Iroh freezes, hoping confusion would mask fear.

"How do you mean?"

"Who. Are. You." she repeats, each word over-enunciated. Her tone is dangerous, and not one she uses often.

It's the one that only comes out when she's actually scared.

"My name is Zheng."

That's a lie, but it's an easy one to tell, and he's not telling her his real one.

"But," she almost hesitates, "Who are you?" She recovers her composure, "Surely more than a name."

"I could give you my life history," he offers.

"When you were last in the Fire Nation, what year was it? Had the comet arrived yet?"

Mai frowns and starts to object, but then she considers the question. It's actually a good one.

"No. It was due to arrive in a week or two when I found myself here." It was a nice change from prison, really.

Thinking quickly, Iroh comes up with an excuse;

"That was five years ago for me, and is why you're asking the wrong questions. You should be asking who you are, Lady Mai."

Mai stiffens again.

"What are you saying?" Because she does not like the sound of that.

"If you were wondering how I knew you."

Jesu, Brain, do NOT mess this up

"You're friends with the Fire Lord."

Other than the way her eyes flicker, Mai doesn't move. She's processing through all of the implications of his words.

Friends. Not Azula, not Ozai. The Avatar won.

Friends. Not something more. That's more complicated.

If it isn't Azula or Ozai that really only leaves Zuko. Which means she's even more of an idiot than she thought. She winces at the thought.

Or it's not Zuko, which meant a change in dynasty. Civil war. Even worse. She winces again.

She looks up, "Was the transfer of power ugly?"

If he sees the winces (he does), Iroh - Zheng - says nothing.

"It was war." So of course it was ugly. But - his tone is calculated to suggest it could have been worse.

"Ozai died a prisoner earlier this year."

"And--" she starts to ask about the others: Azula, Ty Lee, Zuko, but she stops herself.

She's pretty sure she doesn't want to know right now.

He wouldn't recommend it, anyway.

He nods once, hoping that's enough to prove she can trust him.

"Are you hungry? I could talk to our 'hosts'."

Her leg and trying to figure out the implications of what she's learned have made her numb, so she just shrugs.

Sure. Food's fine.

Zheng nods again, and quietly gets up, in order to rattle on the door handle, just to make a noise.

Eventually someone bangs on the door and the older man says, "What?"

"Food?" Zheng suggests.

"We haven't got..."

There's a long, whispered argument.

"Wait there!"

"We should not stay here too long," Mai points out. "I would be surprised if they avoid trying something for more than a day or two."

"You'll need at least that," Iroh says, crossing to the window. "I'm hoping to bargain some more protection for their trust. You think they know who to prepare meat from those wolves?"

"They are still alive," Mai says slowly. "The figured out how to do that at some point." There aren't exactly any major food sources in the area, after all.

She shakes her head, "I doubt that you can make them trust you. You are a 'freak' after all."