Dedication: For a friend. My condolences.

Author's Notes:

This is written from the perspective that Azula was right about Mai's mother. "You had a controlling mother who had certain expectations, and if you strayed from them, you were shut down."

I like Mieko (pronounced Mee-ko) better than Meiko, which sounds like "Maiko."

I do not own A: TLA.

The funeral was simple, traditional. Not as grand as the memorial held for Zuko's mother. Still, Lady Yumi was Mai's mother and due homage was given. The Fire Lord and his wife were surrounded by family, their close personal friends, and dignitaries; contemporaries of the widower, former-New Ozai Governor Yoshi.

To most everyone's amazement, Mai had an extensive relations comprised mainly of the families of her father's three younger brothers. She had innumerable cousins, none of which she was close with, or really knew. For her, family had always been Zuko, their little girl Mieko, Tom-Tom, her favorite uncle Takeo who was her mother's brother, and, of course, Uncle Iroh.

At the ceremony's end, there had been a reception. Mai had been quiet, poised, accepting condolences with accustomed grace. The crowd dwindled as the evening wore on. She excused herself and retired into the house.

She sat in her old room, hands folded on her lap.

She had been numb from the start and had taken everything in stride from the moment she heard the news. She had been supportive for her father, who, to her shock, had broken down in her arms. She was strong for Tom-Tom who felt the loss of their mother keenly. She remained dignified like her Uncle Takeo, who suddenly looked older than his age. She had played her part perfectly as called for in each scene as the drama unfolded around her.

A quiet voice called from the doorway. "Mai? May I come in?"

Mai nodded slightly. She had wondered how long it would take Zuko to come for her.

He entered and took a seat next to her on her old bed.

They sat that way, side-by-side, for a long time. Nothing was said. The only sounds were those drifting in through the window and that of their synchronous breathing.

He moved to take her hand in his; then stroked it gently with his thumb. She made no move to pull away. He lowered his head till it met hers and she leaned into him.

Still no words were spoken.

Mai blinked. "Mieko?"

"Katara took her back to the palace and is looking after her."

"That was good of her."

Zuko released her hand to put his arm around her shoulder.

"I don't feel anything," she said finally. "I thought I was supposed to feel something."

He gave her a squeeze, pulled her close and rested his head atop hers. "I guess it's different for all of us."

"I didn't like her." She paused. "Tom-Tom loves her. Father, he . . . he never . . . I've never seen him like this." There was an incredulous wonder in her voice which left her breathless. "Even Uncle Takeo . . . he wasn't happy with her, but he mourns her."

Suddenly, she pulled away and sat up straight to face her husband, her hand on his chest to prevent him from reeling her in. "Is it me? Am I the only one who doesn't feel anything?"

"No, Mai," he answered softly. "Everyone's grief is different, and it is different with everyone we lose."

She lowered her gaze as she considered his words and let her hand drop.

"Take me home."

Zuko stood, gave her his hand and helped her up. She allowed him to gather her and lead her to the waiting palanquin. Once at the palace, he led her to their room.

Later that night, she pressed up against him for warmth. His arm went around her as he pulled her into a tender embrace. That is when he felt her tears on his chest. Zuko held her closer.

There was no need for words. She would talk when she wanted to. Till then, he would just hold her and follow her lead.

Author's Note:

Sometimes the best thing anyone can do is keep silent and just be there for someone.