Dead Flowers

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN AVATAR THE LAST AIR BENDER. ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED FOR ITS RESPECTIVE OWNERS. **

~Dead Flowers~

_I feel like the flowers in this vase,  
He just brought em' home one day,  
"Ain't they beautiful"he said.  
They've been here in the kitchen and the water's turnin' grey.  
They're sittin' in the vase but now they're dead.  
Dead flowers._

Mai's eyes stared out the window, in a daze. Her dark hair hung loosely around her face, grazing her cheeks lovingly. Pale skin almost appeared translucent as the sun's rays glared down on her. Her robes were neat, perfectly ironed for the most wrinkle free appearance. This was a special occasion after all, it wasn't every day the Fire Lord had a birthday.

Departing from the windowsill overlooking the gardens, she allowed a small smile to grace her red painted lips. Eyelashes, coated in a thick substance, glanced down at the ring set just so on her left hand, third finger. She knew the ring's properties, its facets, its exact hue of the color red perfectly, almost as well as she knew Zuko's face. The way the dimples from his childhood would crease his face whenever he smiled, the way his golden eyes would light up, almost like two tiny, beautiful embers of a fire.

_I feel like this long string of lights.  
They lit up our whole house on Christmas day.  
But now it's January and the bulbs have all burned out,  
But still they hang.  
Like dead flowers._

Once more, Mai glanced out the window overlooking the gardens. Like she had a month ago, right before her lover's birthday. This time, her lips were drawn into a tight line, anger pulsing through her.

She tried desperately to study something other than the two of them down there, sharing laughs and smiles. She had never seen him smile like that, that beautifully, that happily. Never. And now there he was, associating with that water tribe peasant; the very one he himself had attempted to rid the world of once. He was now infatuated with her, and apparently her with him. She had never seen him look so happy, so _alive. _The war seemed to have killed him in a way that not even Mai could hope to revive. Zuko had almost been like the walking dead.

She turned her gaze upward, studying the intricate curtain rod overhead, just as an excuse to distract her mind from... other things. Made of pure gold, the rod jutted out in opposite directions, a flame adorning the ends of both sides. She studied the writing table next to the plush chair she was seated in. An ink vile, a few pieces of parchment, a lovely wooden desk crafted from only the finest carpenters from across the world… nothing out of place, nothing unusual.

As if by a reflex, she fiddled with her engagement ring, turning it this way and that around her ring finger. The fit was looser than usual; was she losing weight?

Her eyes, dark and sad glanced down at the two people walking arm in arm through the gardens. Zuko had picked a flower and twined it into the water bender's hair. A smile lined her face, every crevice and plane of that face alerting a bystander to absolute happiness radiating off of the girl.

Mai had to admit that the water bender had grown up nicely, trading a childish face for one of high cheekbones and full lips; bright eyes and a nimble, strong, bending body. The beauty of a grown woman perfectly paired with the attitude of a warrior. A fiery attitude, a stubborn head; it would have been almost comical had it not been so heart-wrenching. Her personality was one that could match even Zuko's.

A bitter smile found its way to the woman's face.

_He ain't feelin' anything  
My love, my hurt, or the sting of this rain.  
I'm livin' in a hurricane.  
All he can say is, "Man ain't it such a nice day"  
Yeah, Yeah._

Once more she sat at the window, six months later. The desk was dusty from disuse and the parchment was yellowing from age. The chair had grown accustomed to her small frame sitting within its confinements, her shape permanently marked into the velvet.

She remembered sitting within this drawing room as a child, the room that Ursa used to sing to them in. She remembered drifting off into a peaceful sleep, nestled somewhere on the pallet Lady Ursa would always assemble. All of the children, herself, Azula, Ty Lee and even Zuko, would lie down in the covers, eagerly waiting to hear the beautiful, potent voice that belonged to the Fire Nation Princess.

Even as children, Zuko had been a distant individual, never opening up to anyone… other than his mother. He wouldn't acknowledge Mai half the time, much less speak with her. He knew even then, at such a young age, what her feelings were of him. He chose to ignore her.

Her palm ran across the smooth wooden surface of the desk, dust clinging to her skin when she pulled back.

Her eyes finally glanced out the window, noticing the darkening skies. It was soon to rain, rain on her birthday.

She was turning twenty- five today and she had yet to hear a "Happy Birthday Mai!" from anyone… other than the water tribe peasant. Her words had been so clear and sincere, even though she seemed rather uncomfortable and fidgety. Mai had managed a small smile, though it didn't reach her eyes.

She hadn't even seen Zuko today, thanks to the numerous meetings he was forced to attend. Though, she had to admit, that she was rather glad that she had yet to see her betrothed. She was at a loss of what to say to him.

She remembered studying the water tribe girl this morning, asking herself why the girl had chosen to remain in the Fire Nation, despite the avatar's numerous attempts at persuading her to join him on an expedition to the Earth Kingdom.

Every time the girl had replied with a quick and sufficient "_No". _Still, Mai's thoughts on the matter were simple and straightforward: the water bender might not _truly_ be the Fire Lord's harlot, but she certainly wasn't helping matters by remaining in the palace. Mai heard the hushed whispers from some of noblewomen, gossiping about the water tribe woman, labeling her as "_The Fire Lord's prenuptial play thing." _

Even though the women were intending to cheer Mai up, telling her not to worry about the girl, Zuko would soon tire of her, the words still stung, like the stab of a rusty blade. For Mai knew something the others didn't: Katara wasn't Zuko's _play thing… _she was something much more frightening. Something that threatened Mai, not physically, but emotionally. Katara was going to take Zuko away from her.

_I feel like the tires on this car.  
They said we won't go far but we're still rollin'  
I look in the rear view and I see dead flowers in the yard  
and that string of lights.  
But it ain't glowin'  
Like dead flowers.  
Like dead flowers._

Mai's eyes felt as though they were on fire, red and swollen. The drawing room was silent, save for the small intakes of breath she was drawing in.

She looked down at the scene with defeated eyes. Katara, holding his hands firmly, pressed against him with a bouquet of blood red roses clutched within her arms. Zuko held her close to him, pressing tender butterfly kisses to her throat, her collarbone, her cheeks, her eyelids, her lips…

Mai looked away, another river of tears leaking out of her eyes. She clutched her chest, as if she could cease the shattering of her heart from the outside. The pressure she was exerting on her torso was painful, but not near as painful as the scene before her.

She sank down into her chair, the chair that had come to be her closest companion in the past two years. Its warmth was no longer there, as if the wind had carried it off; she felt nothing but cold air flying across her skin, piercing her with a stinging sensation of needles.

The chair usually gave her a sense of security, as if nothing could hurt her. The plush velvet, the color of gold, felt nothing but foreign today.

And the hope she usually obtained from the chair was no longer present. She was always so sure that Zuko would dump the water tribe peasant and come rushing back into her arms, the way it was supposed to be. She was always so sure of this fact and the chair always seemed to reassure her of this too.

It was as if nothing was there today, as if nothing existed beyond the stuffing beneath the velvet. She had drained it, drained the piece of furniture of all the hope and security and comfort that it could hold.

Another lone tear streaked down her cheek as she stared, unseeingly, out of the window.

She was dead inside, nothing but a rotting corpse living inside the mask of a fighter.

The mask was slowly cracking, leaving nothing but death behind.

_He ain't feelin' anything  
My love, my hurt, or the sting of this rain.  
I'm drivin' through a hurricane.  
All he can say is, "Man ain't it such a nice day"  
Hey, hey I guess we'll just  
go to waste, like dead flowers._

Her fingers pinched the flimsy, malicious piece of parchment. A single piece of the material, with only one paragraph living within its world. Mai couldn't catch a whiff of the ink; this letter was written a while ago.

She needn't look down at it again; she had already memorized the painful, yet unsurprising, words that lined its surface.

But she didn't want to think of all the words that lined the paper that she held within her grasp. She could only allow herself to remember the words in a jumbled order, as though she was an infant again, just learning how to speak. Remembering the letter in its entirety, every heart- breaking word placed in the exact order it appeared on the piece of paper would practically be suicide. She knew that if she were to feel the pain Zuko and Katara's relationship caused her again, the unforgiving pain that she had tried so desperately to avoid for the past three years, the years in which the water bender and Zuko grew ever closer, Mai slowly fading into the background, she knew she would surely not be able to withstand it.

_I'm sorry… Katara... love… me and you… over… disappointed... that it worked… this way… out… hope you'll forgive me… _

The words, however tangled she tried to make them, were like lightning striking her, right in the heart. She shouldn't feel this pain, though, should she? She already knew that this letter was becoming, it was only a matter of when Zuko would have the decency to tell her of his love for another.

She shouldn't feel this kind of pain, this pain was for weaklings and she was no such thing.

_You have to understand… life… destiny… work out… doesn't… Uncle, mother…_

She shouldn't feel guilty, as if it were her fault somehow that she couldn't complete him, like the water bender. It wasn't her fault.

_Not your fault… _

But it was; it was her fault that she got herself hurt. Because she opened herself up, allowed somebody to take her heart, caress it, admire it, until that person soon tired of her and smashed her soul into a million pieces. It was as though he had smashed her, shattered her into a state of disrepair, like that of a mirror. She should have remained impassive, loving from afar.

_Love, _

But she knew he never had.

_Zuko _

His name, now uttered on the water bender's lips in such a seductive, passionate way. She could never have completed him the way Katara could, but even so, the knowledge didn't lessen the pain. Not even a little bit.

She clutched the bushel of irises, for a moment, to her chest, studying how the petals were withering, dying within the grasp of the dead. She was dead. And she would always be.

She slunk low in the chair that had come to fit her body perfectly. The letter dropped from her hand with a wisp of air reaching her ears. She dropped the irises, knowing that they weren't roses and understanding why he hadn't given her any of that particular kind of flower. Those were reserved for his beloved, for the one who deserved him.

As she looked out the window of the drawing room, watching as the raindrops fell steadily out of the sky and landed on her window, forming clusters of different pictures, she felt her engagement ring slide off of her finger, now bony and thin due to her increase in weight loss.

It fell to the floor, almost in slow motion, until she heard the _clink_. An unforgiving sound of finality, blunt and to the point, as if trying to convey to Mai the importance of letting go.

The room was silent, save for the pounding of the raindrops on the window.

_Like dead flowers.  
Dead flowers._

******* So this is my first attempt at writing from a Mai POV. I've had this idea in my head for a while now and I figured while I was in a writing mood, I'd go ahead and write it out. **

**Just a side note: I did NOT intend to make it sound like Zuko was being horrible to Mai, I love Zuko and Katara and I feel that they should ALWAYS be together but I also have a soft spot for Mai and Aang, especially Mai. I don't know what it is. I felt that this song was perfect for describing her feelings towards Zuko; really listen to the words and you'll see what I mean. **

**Go listen to it, it's called "**_**Dead Flowers" **_**by Miranda Lambert. It is a fabulous song that always pulls at my heart… and my tear ducts. **

**I actually think it came out pretty good, but I want my fabulous readers' opinions. **

**So do me a favor and drop a review, kay? **

**Thanks, **

**~Moonlit- Silhouette **


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