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king-bumis-armpit · 2 days

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The Wedding Weaver

Written for Maiko Week 2024 - Wedding

Summary:

The master matchmaker and self-proclaimed Wedding Weaver is going to be in Ba Sing Se for the first annual Peace Extravaganza hosted by Avatar Aang. Inspired by his message of love and unity, she will be offering a discount on her services for the week of the festival! Find your peace and harmony with your perfect other half…

Mai and Zuko are brought together by forces beyond their control.

Author's Note:

This is admittedly a big stretch of the prompt. After I wrote this, I saw that “matchmaker” was actually a prompt back in 2022! I didn’t have the desire to write back then, but I’m a long time reader of Maiko fics. If you’ve written one, I have probably read it multiple times and I love you <3 That being said, this is my first foray into writing so please be kind ^^

Also, I should mention this is probably not an accurate portrayal of matchmakers and it is certainly not meant to be a representation of any cultures that have historically utilized matchmaking. It’s just a silly idea I had and I wanted to write.

The Wedding Weaver

Mai looked at the paper with disdain. “Why exactly are you showing me this, Mother?”

Michi sternly met her daughter’s gaze. “You have been moping about this house for far too long. I was engaged by the time I was your age!”

“Look how well that turned out.”

“Young lady!” Michi seemed to be about to launch into a tirade, but for some reason she held back and sighed. “You know we are traveling into the city for the festival. I thought perhaps it would give you something to do, since you are always bored.”

Mai’s Aunt Mura landed a very lucrative business deal with a guild of artisans. She would be providing florals and arranging the decorations for their stalls during the festival. Merchants from all over the Fire Nation, and doubtless the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes as well, were traveling to Ba Sing Se for the event. The set up process would be intense and Mai and Michi both were planning to help. But once the festival was underway, the two of them could step back and enjoy a peaceful vacation. Mai was planning on taking Tom Tom to the zoo that Aang helped build, buying Earth Kingdom daggers, and getting a cup of tea at the Jasmine Dragon (at a time when she knew Zuko would be in a meeting of course). Meeting with a Matchmaker and possibly having to entertain a stranger was not on the top of her to do list.

“No thank you.” Mai replied curtly.

Michi sighed, “I was afraid you'd say that, but it's too late. Your aunt and I already signed you up.”

Mai expected this kind of treachery from her mother, but not her aunt. “What on earth were you thinking? Why would auntie do that to me?”

“I was thinking that you needed to get out of the house. And Mura agrees. You’ve been more despondent than normal. All we want for you, Mai, is to be happy.”

Mai shook her head. She could probably get out of it if she really wanted to, but when her mother put it that way it sounded depressing. Maybe she should give it a try. What's the worst that could happen?

— —

“Is that all for the agenda?” Zuko was in a hurry to get out of there. His combined meetings with the Fire Sages and his Royal Advisors always seemed to drag on. It felt like they were all ganging up against him. No wonder all of his ancestors were so cranky.

“Actually my Lord, there is one more item we wish to address with you. As you well know, there have been two assassination attempts on your life in the past four months. Furthermore, you are in the precarious position of lacking in heir,” an elder Fire Sage began.

Zuko did not like the sound of this. “What of it?”

“Well your majesty,” one of his advisors continued, “we were hoping that you might start to make some progress in that department.”

“Surely you're not suggesting that I go out and have a child tonight.”

“Not at all. Not at all. But perhaps you could enter another courtship?” the Advisor replied.

Zuko stiffened. He knew that he shouldn't still be so hung up on her. It’s been months since our breakup, and she has a boyfriend. Kei Lo. May he suffer the torment of Agni’s eternal flame.

Oh Mai. She’s so beautiful, and lethal, and witty, and she’s always bored but never boring.

“My Lord?” The spell was broken.

“How about I name Kiyi my successor and we all call it a day?”

“That is a… fair enough solution in case of an emergency. But consider what the burden would be like for her if she were to ascend. A significant number of the people are struggling to accept you as they're rightful ruler, but she does not even have Royal blood. What do you think would be her reception?” Shiu- the Great Sage- prodded him gently.

Zuko bit his lip. He hadn't thought of that. “I don't know what you want me to do. Being the head of state doesn't give me much free time to go around meeting young women.”

“We believe we have a solution,” The advisor who spoke passed him a paper. It appeared to be an advertisement of some sort.

“You want me to see a matchmaker?”

— —

Mai hated to admit it, but she was nervous. After the festivities had begun, the vendors assured Mura that they didn't need any additional help for the day. Consequently, Mai had nothing to do while waiting for her appointment with the Wedding Weaver except imagine worst case scenarios. What if she asks me a bunch of weird personal questions? What if she tries to set me up with a creepy old guy? What if her office is all pink and lovey-dovey?

In reality, the Weaver’s office was relatively large and open. The walls were green, and the furniture seemed to all be locally made. At the back of the room privacy screens prevented her from seeing the countless filing cabinets of her clients’ information. In the center of the room was a large desk, but instead of thin wooden chairs, on either side there were great comfy recliners. Mai sat in one, the matchmaker the other. Mai's mother, Aunt, and little brother had all accompanied her and sat on a couch behind her. Against the wall was a large standing loom, with a project clearly in-progress. It seemed the Weaver had chosen that moniker for a reason.

The Wedding Weaver herself was a petite woman. Her snowy hair was held in a tight chignon and her eyes sparkled with something that Mai didn’t entirely trust. “Don't be nervous dear,” the Weaver said while pouring some tea. She passed Mai a cup which she accepted gratefully. “Now, tell me about your ideal husband.”

“Umm… That’s a bit broad, don't you think?”

The older woman laughed. “Let me help you out. Do you have a preference for if he's Fire Nation or not? Do you want him to be a bender? Do you have occupational preferences? What values do you most look for in a partner?”

Surprisingly, Tom Tom spoke up first. “He has to live nearby. Mai can't move away.” The boy toddled from the couch and up into his sister’s lap. She accepted him without question. The pout on his face was very convincing, but even if it wasn't, Mai agreed. Best to limit the results to her own country. What if she actually liked the guy?

“Yes. Fire Nation. I don't really care if he's a bender. But if you do choose a bender, I want him to have conventional weapons training as well.”

The matchmaker raised her eyebrows. “Do you get into a lot of fights?”

Mai smirked. “Not so much anymore. But a lot of benders can be sort of pretentious to non-benders like myself. I'm trained with knives, you see.” Mai pulled one from her sleeve to prove her point, as Tom Tom looked on in awe. That was something she loved about Zuko. He thought her deadly precision was just as magical as making fire appear. They would train together for hours, each taking turns to watch the other in admiration and desire… Mai mentally kicked herself. This was NOT about him. It was about her.

Her mother spoke next. “Mai comes from a noble lineage. We would prefer someone with a title or a respectable job in the service of the Fire Nation.” The Weaver noted that Mai shifted uncomfortably at this. Curious, she thought. Perhaps the girl is self-conscious around higher nobility. The Weaver dismissed it as a non-issue. She is dignified and reserved, she would fit right in.

The matchmaker smiled. “Yes of course. Many such men are in town for the festival, and quite a few have booked with me. That shouldn't be so hard.” She thought about her next appointment with anticipation. That woman has no idea how impressive my clients are.

Mai spoke once again. “When it comes to values, I don't know how to classify this but I want someone who treats me like an equal. Someone who is trustworthy and is willing to share their heaviest burdens with me.”

She blushed at this confession, but the matchmaker did not know why. Surely anyone would want such a dedicated girlfriend?

“What about physicality? Any preferences with regards to appearance?”

Mai thought for a minute. “I don't have strong feelings about that really.”

Mura objected. “Oh no! Find our girl someone handsome!”

The Weaver laughed. “I think that can be arranged.” She had taken diligent notes throughout the meeting, and it seemed she already had a few names in mind.

She had Mai fill out a parchment questionnaire before leaving so she would have some additional personal info and more detailed preferences, but the Weaver liked to start by getting a sense of the person through conversation. She found it produced a much more accurate tapestry of a person’s desires.

— —

Mai’s family left late in the afternoon, as they had claimed the last spot on her schedule. However, today she had accepted a special request for an out-of-hours appointment from the Fire Lord himself. He, naturally, had diplomatic appointments throughout the commencement of the Peace Extravaganza. But beyond that he required the utmost discretion.

He did not arrive in her office until the sun was setting, but she did not mind in the slightest. He was her most important customer to date, and she was determined to find him a good match. When he walked in, he was accompanied by two older men: one of his advisors and one of the Fire Sages. She bowed to him in the Fire Nation custom as they all took their seats. She thought about offering tea, but remembered that his uncle was the best tea maker in the city and decided against it. Her brew surely could not compare.

She began in her usual way: “Don't be shy. Tell me about your ideal wife.”

“Oh! Uh…” Zuko was at a loss for what to say. His traitorous thoughts ran rampant: Her name is Mai. She lived across the street. She works for her aunt in a flower shop. She kissed me when I was thirteen and my life has never been the same.

The Matchmaker smiled warmly. Her clients weren't so chatty today. “That's okay, dear. Does she need to be Fire Nation? Do you want her to be a bender? Are there requirements for being the Fire Lady? What values do you most look for in a partner?”

Zuko took a breath and tried to remember all her questions. Maybe it was because of his mother’s theater background, but whenever he was nervous, he found it helpful to put on a persona. I’m not Zuko, I’m the dragon emperor and I am looking for a bride. He put on his best royal voice and began, “I think it would be best if she was from the Fire Nation. If she is to be my wife, then she will be their ruler someday. And a ruler should be well acquainted with her people. In that vein, a good education is also important. I want someone who can help me make decisions and be my true equal. I don't want her to feel imposed upon because of my station.” Zuko almost choked up during that statement. He couldn't stop thinking about Mai and all of the ways he failed her. He desperately wanted to be anywhere but there.

The matchmaker’s eyes darted to the forms on her desk. She shuffled through until she found what she was looking for. The Royal Fire Academy for Girls, eh? The matchmaker knew she was entering dangerous territory. It was always tempting to pair up clients who had sessions back to back. But she’d learned well enough from the Kangaroo Island Incident that this was not always wise.

“A fire bender would be strongly preferred,” the Fire Sage cut in.

Zuko's response was immediate and involuntary. “No!” Everyone looked at him, and he scrambled to regain his composure. “I mean… a fire bender would be fine but I don't have strong preferences in that regard.”

The Weaver’s eyes twinkled with mischief. He probably wanted a young lady who he could impress with his bending. She’d met many a man like that in her day, and some of them were quite impressive indeed. The gloomy girl wasn’t a bender, but she would still be hard to impress. Perhaps that is what he needs.

She pursed her lips: “Are you trained in any martial arts other than bending?”

Zuko was surprised by the question. “I trained with Master Piandao in dual dao swords.” For some reason, this answer seemed to please the Weaver greatly.

“Don't forget, Fire Lord Zuko, your prime directive in this union is to produce an heir. And it would be most beneficial for the nation if that child was a firebender,” his advisor at last spoke up.

Zuko responded icily: “I do not care if my child is a firebender or not. And for your sake, you had better not care either.”

The Weaver recalled how the knife girl had cradled her brother in her arms.The pair would be good parents. Perhaps a tad over-protective, but a little prince or princess would require a greater level of care.

The Fire Lord continued speaking, “But since you reminded me that your rush for an heir was spurred on by multiple assassination attempts, I would like a woman who knows at least basic self-defense. My guards can only do so much. It would ease my mind if she could protect herself.”

The Matchmaker nodded in agreement. Truly this job was getting too easy. “Do you have any preferences on how she should look?”

Zuko blanched, and instinctively reached up to touch his scar. “I really don't think I have any room for judgment.”

The Matchmaker tsked. “Nonsense. You are quite handsome, and everyone is attracted to different traits. Is there anything- a certain eye color or hair style- that you find particularly compelling?”

Before he could stop himself, Zuko answered, “Long hair. Straight. And silky smooth.”

The Matchmaker smiled. This time was nothing like Kangaroo Island. The two were obviously meant to be. “How do you feel about bangs?”

“I think they're really cute,” he said with a small voice.

The Matchmaker handed him his exit paperwork, and leaned back in her seat. She couldn't believe her luck! Those two kids are perfect for each other. And to think they wouldn't meet if it weren't for her planning their date. She was confident there would be a wedding within the year.

— —

“You’re kidding!” Ty Lee squealed. “You’re really going on a date!”

“Yeah.”

“And it was set up by the most famous matchmaker in the world?”

“I guess so.”

“Do you think he’ll be handsome? Or rich? Oh! What if he’s like Earth Kingdom royalty or something?”

Mai sighed, “Honestly, Ty Lee, don’t you think I’ve had enough of handsome, rich royalty?”

Ty Lee had the decency to look ashamed. “Oh yeah. I guess I still kind of think of Zuko as our childhood friend. It’s hard to believe he was my boss. Even when I was guarding his life, he still just seemed like Zuko.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask, why did Zuko send you all away?” About four months ago, Zuko had seemingly out-of-nowhere decided to send the Kyoshi Warriors home. Against her reasonable judgment, Mai took the action personally. Not only did she employ them in the first place, but she had become good friends with Suki and the other girls. She often met up with them for lunch, shopping, sparring, and passing the time in general.

Ty Lee rustled at her wording. “We were honorably discharged, thank you very much. The opposition to his reign was calming down and so I think he wanted his guard to be all Fire Nation again. There was some pretty nasty talk about us being a foreign militia in the palace, but I don’t know if that affected his decision.”

Mai nodded. She knew firsthand how brutal Fire Nation court gossip could get, but she hoped that wasn’t impacting Zuko’s security decisions.

“Anyway, don’t think you can get out of this date talk by bringing up your ex boyfriend.”

Mai shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. I won’t meet him until tomorrow.” It had been less than twenty-four hours since her appointment with the Wedding Weaver and Mai had already received a missive notifying her that a match had been made and the date was going to take place the following evening. The message arrived during her lunch with Ty Lee, squashing any hopes of keeping the rendezvous secret from her friend.

“Can I see the note?” Ty Lee asked, and Mai dutifully handed it over. She read aloud, “‘To the lady Mai, the Wedding Weaver is pleased to inform you that she has followed your string of fate and found your perfect match. As your lives twine together, never forget your dear old matchmaker.’” The note then detailed where and when they were supposed to meet, as well as the level of dress. The Weaver suggested semi-formal attire, which felt a bit pretentious to Mai. “‘P.S. The person you are seeing is of very high rank, and so you must be discreet with the information about your meeting.’ Oops!”

Mai smirked, “Oh c’mon. He’s probably lower level nobility with a big head! And besides, discretion wouldn’t stop me from telling you.” Embarrassment would, but never discretion.

Ty Lee laughed. “What if it’s King Kuei or one of his relatives? Oh! Or someone related to Chief Arnook! You could tell people you dated multiple world leaders!”

Mai let out a rare chuckle. “That would be pretty epic. But I told her to keep it Fire Nation. Long distance seems so boring.”

“Yeah, I seem to recall that not touching for two seconds was long distance for you and Zuko back in the day,” Ty Lee joked.

Mai tried to act offended. “Hey! We were deprived of affection in childhood. We had to make up for lost time.”

“And you certainly did,” Ty Lee quipped back and Mai rolled her eyes.

Ty Lee resumed her question barrage. “So what are you wearing? And what are you doing for make up? Do you wanna try out a new hairstyle? I’ve had a lot of practice with the girls.”

“Who appointed you as my stylist?”

“I appointed myself! Please, it’ll be so fun!”

They spent the rest of the day trying out various outfits in the market and testing make up and hair at Mai’s hotel. Ty Lee insisted she do something different with her hair, but in exchange Mai was able to get her to agree to a dress that wasn’t pink. In the past Mai might have complained about the cringiness of it all, but after four months of missing her best friend– and going even longer without an excuse to get dressed up– she found herself having fun. When she went to sleep that night, she decided that however the date went the next day, it was already worth it.

— —

On the third day of the Peace Extravaganza, Zuko rose with the sun as always and made his way to the Earth King’s palace courtyard to practice his fire bending katas. To his surprise, Aang was there as well.

“Good morning Sifu Hotman!” he said cheerfully. Zuko smiled and nodded in acknowledgement.

Normally he would protest at the nickname, but he had hardly spent any time with Aang this week because of the various meetings and peace ceremonies. He hoped he could catch up with everyone once the schedule slowed down.

“Want to go through your fire forms with your old teacher?”

“Always!”

By the time they finished, it was still too early for most of the palace to be awake. But Zuko managed to flag down a servant to bring them some breakfast in the courtyard.

“So what’s on your schedule today, your royal fieriness?” Aang asked.

Zuko sighed. “The usual, you know what it’s like. I have a meeting with Earth Kingdom’s office of veteran affairs to trade strategies for dealing with the reintegration of troops into civilian life. Then King Kuei and I are attending the opening of Ba Sing Se University’s exchange student program. After that, he and I are set to have lunch. And then it’s on to a panel discussion with the Water Tribe officials about navigation treaties. And after that we have rehearsal for the Ceremony for Perpetual Peace on the last day.”

“Wow! That’s more than me and I’m the event organizer! Do you think you could have dinner with us after the rehearsal?” Aang looked at him hopefully.

“I wish I could but–” Zuko hesitated, “promise you won’t make fun of me for what I’m about to say?”

“Okay?” Well that wasn’t much of a promise, but Zuko figured it was the best he was going to get.

“My advisors bullied me into seeing a matchmaker. The Wedding Weeder or something like that.”

“The Wedding Weaver!” Aang exclaimed. “She’s really famous over here. She boasts a 95% success rate. Excluding the Kangaroo Island incident of course.

“Well I’d never heard of her. But I met with her a couple of days ago and she said she already found my perfect match. She arranged for us to get dinner tonight.”

“TONIGHT?!” Aang yelled, startling a pair of passing servants.

“Hush up!” Zuko hissed. “No one knows yet except Uncle and my council.”

“But what about Mai?” Aang asked. In the months after the war, he and Mai had become fast friends to everyone’s surprise. Retrospectively, it kind of made sense to Zuko. Aang was a lot like Ty Lee, and being the avatar meant that his life was far from boring. And despite his “upbeat attitude,” he was very accepting of “gloomy” people. It took Katara a little bit longer to warm up to Mai, but not by much. Ever since Mai broke up with him, Aang has been encouraging him to try to fix things.

“She’s still with Kei Lo as far as I know. The last time I saw him, he told me to back off and Mai took his side. I think it’s over.”

Aang was visibly disappointed by this, and Zuko added uncomfortably, “You said this matchmaker was really good, right? I’m sure whoever she sets me up with will be… lovely.”

Aang seemed to realize he was affecting Zuko. “Oh! I’m sure she will! But don’t you think it’s a bit dishonest to try to date someone else while you still have feelings for your ex? Isn’t that like cheating?”

Zuko thought about Aang’s words. “I… I don’t know. But I don’t really have a choice. I have a bunch of old guys breathing down my throat to have a kid. I have to start somewhere.”

Aang gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry. That’s rough, buddy.”

— —

Zuko took a deep breath and began to ascend the stairs. The Weaver had reserved an entire rooftop balcony for them. He wondered what his date was thinking about all of this. The matchmaker had not revealed his identity, but had apparently told her that he was an important official who required privacy. What if she’s angry that I didn’t tell her my identity first? Mai had always hated surprises. Spirits, she was beautiful when she despised things.

Uncle had given him a gift basket with an assortment of tea leaves and several coupons for the Jasmine Dragon. He assured Zuko that if his date was caught off-guard, the smell of the tea leaves would calm her. Zuko wasn’t sure if he believed that, but he trusted that uncle knew better than him, so he figured he should probably lead with the gift. When reached the door to the balcony, he rearranged the items of the gift basket one last time.

As he stepped on the terrace, he caught sight of a female figure. She was standing at the edge of the balcony, looking out over the city with her back turned. She had long black hair that she wore loose, and for a moment he almost tricked himself into thinking it was Mai. Maybe bringing up the hair was a mistake.

“Hello–”

She spun around, knives in hand. Agni, it was Mai!

“Zuko, what the fuck? How did you find out about my date?”

Zuko gaped at her, “I– I didn’t. This is supposed to be my date.”

Mai took in the gift-basket and his gelled hair. No doubt both courtesy of his uncle.

She buried her face in her hands and her shoulders began to shake. Zuko felt his heart fall into his stomach. He dropped the basket and ran to her side. “Please don’t cry. I didn’t mean–”

She let out a snort. He pried her hands away from her face to see she was… laughing. She giggled and chortled and it was honestly a bit disconcerting at first. He had never seen her so unrestrained.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” She apologized breathlessly through her mirth. She finally composed herself enough to be coherent. “I just can’t believe I traveled to the other side of the world to be set up on a date with you!”

Zuko glowered and dropped her hands. “I could say the exact same thing!”

Mai suddenly became serious, “ I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that I was finally trying to move on and here you are.”

Zuko couldn’t believe this. “Again, I could say the same! No! I should be the only one saying that. You broke up with me. And you’re dating Kei Lo. Why are you even here? What do you mean ‘move on’?”

Mai crossed her arms. “For your information, Kei Lo broke up with me because I couldn’t let go of you.” Zuko felt a fluttering in his ribcage, but she didn’t stop there, “And I tried to be a good girlfriend, but you weren’t interested in my support. You would rather keep all your emotions locked away in your chest.”

Zuko rolled his eyes. “You’re one to talk–”

“Hey! I’ve been doing better and you know it.”

He supposed that was true. After all, she was expressing herself with gusto today. He remembered Uncle’s calming tea and retrieved the basket. Luckily, it had landed right side up.

He walked back to Mai and extended it to her. No use in letting it go to waste. “For you.”

Mai looked like she was about to make another cutting remark, but then she noticed the contents. “Is this from Iroh?” He nodded and she accepted the basket. She picked up a sachet of spiced oolong and inhaled. “This always was my favorite. Thank you.” She hesitated, “Are you sure you don’t want to save this nice array for the next girl?”

Zuko huffed. “What next girl?”

He looked around the balcony for the first time, as if he thought some beautiful woman would emerge and save him from this awkwardness. There was a table piled high with food that was rapidly growing cold, and two chairs. Mai was glad she pilfered some dumplings before he arrived. Ty Lee made her spend hours getting ready and so she was starving. And now Zuko was probably going to kick her out before she got dinner.

Mai shrugged. “I don’t know. Whoever the Weaver sends you after me?”

“I didn’t actually see her of my own free will. It’s kind of a long story. Would you like to sit?” He gestured to the table. He pulled out her chair for her. Mai raised an eyebrow, but she set her basked to the side and accepted the gesture nonetheless. He sat across from her.

“So, start talking.” Mai quickly piled food onto her plate. If Zuko actually had a long story, she could finally eat.

“My advisors are concerned that I don’t have an heir. I currently have Kiyi listed, but… if something happens I don’t know if the people will accept her.”

Mai felt a chill run up her spine. “Zuko, you’re talking as though you’re going to croak any minute. Ty Lee told me that the situation was stabilizing and that was why you sent the Kyoshi warriors back to their island.”

Zuko took a bite of a steamed bun and refused to meet her gaze. Mai glared at him until he spoke, “The situation is stabilizing, but it will never be fully secure until the Fire Nation can operate independently. I heard some of the girls talking outside my office one day. They were feeling homesick. It was always meant to be a temporary post, and I didn’t want to force them to stay if they were unhappy. Anyway, Suki and Ty Lee had been personally training the replacement guards for some time anyway. So I ended their contract. And I gave them generous severance by the way.”

“Maybe independence isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Have there been more assassination attempts since they left?” Just like Mai to cut to the chase. For some reason, it made Zuko want to smile despite the serious topic.

“There have been two in the last four months. But the guards are improving, truly. I would not put my family in their care if I didn’t trust them.”

Mai nodded. “All the same, you would tell someone, right? If you were concerned.”

Zuko blinked in surprise. “Who would I tell?”

Mai wanted to flip the table. Instead she took a breath. Pretend you’re explaining a really difficult concept to Tom Tom. “You could tell Aang, or Katara, or Toph, or Sokka, or Suki, or Ty Lee. You know, any of your friends,” she deadpanned.

Zuko smiled, but it was bittersweet. “I’m trying to be better about reaching out. I acknowledge that in the past I haven’t been the best about that. But there are certain things that our friends can’t help me with. They all have their own responsibilities far away from Caldera City. This is something I need to figure out as the Fire Lord.”

Mai felt her heart twist. He didn’t hesitate to include her: ‘our friends.’ She forced herself to speak before she lost her nerve. “You could talk to me. I know things are awkward between us right now, but you’re one of my only childhood friends. I still care about you, Zuko. And I’m not volunteering to be your personal bodyguard or anything, but I don’t mind helping you vet the new recruits or spending some afternoons at the palace to help out.”

“That would be great!” Zuko accepted her offer without hesitation. He would always take whatever she was willing to give him. But then he remembered something she had said earlier. “Only if you’re sure that won’t interfere with your attempt to get over me. I don’t want to stand in the way of your happiness.”

Mai narrowed her eyes, trying to determine if he was making fun of her. And then she remembered what she said only moments ago in the heat of their argument. She felt her cheeks get hot. “Oh! That was… a bit of an over-exaggeration. I didn’t really want to see the matchmaker either. My mom and aunt were pressuring me, and then Ty Lee got on board. I guess their enthusiasm rubbed off on me more than I realized.”

Zuko smirked, “Yeah, you’re so easy to enthuse.”

Mai rolled her eyes and threw a dumpling at him. He had the good sense to duck and he came up laughing.

“So,” he began. “If you wanna hear about my problems, maybe we could start with this festival.”

Mai nodded, “You can tell me all about it until this table is empty.”

Zuko chuckled and quickly launched into complaints about his overbooked schedule and his ridiculous advisors. Mai listened intently, and, in turn, she regaled him with the trials and tribulations of the floral industry. When they finally parted, Yue was well into her nightly journey. Mai rejected Zuko’s offer of a personal escort home, but he insisted she take at least one of his guards. “I know you don’t need the protection, but I can’t have the restaurant owner think I’m an inconsiderate date.” As the pair disappeared into the city streets, Zuko couldn’t help smiling. Maybe Mai didn’t reciprocate his feelings, but she was miraculously his friend again and that was enough. He ought to send the Wedding Weaver a generous tip.

Later, as Mai slid into bed, she thought about her conversation with Zuko. He was so much more open now compared to when they broke up. Had she overreacted in ending things with him? Was it… possible that he was still willing to try again? She didn’t have satisfactory answers to these questions yet, but she had gotten one of her best friends back. That had to count for something.

— —

The First Annual Peace Extravaganza went on smoothly and historic treaties were agreed upon by the remaining three nations. However, nothing that happened was quite as historic as the Third Annual Peace Extravaganza, where the Fire Lord announced his engagement to his long-term girlfriend, Lady Mai. He shocked the world by declaring that their wedding would take place on the summer solstice, just three months away.

There was some talk about whether or not the two would be suitable rulers. In their not-so distant youth, the couple was said to have a tumultuous on-again and off-again affair. But she had been his steadfast companion for the past two years, and the royal council was happy to simply have the promise of a stronger bloodline.

The Wedding Weaver smiled when she heard the news. Since that fateful day, she learned that she was not the reason for the royal couple’s first meeting. By the time they reached her door, their life lines had long since been plied together into a single thread. She took up her place at her loom and began to weave.

— —

For Mai and Zuko, the time between their engagement and their wedding day passed in a blur. On top of their usual responsibilities of keeping a country running, they had to plan what was shaping up to be the largest party of the century. The festivities would take several days.

The first day was their traditional betrothal ceremony, made awkward by the conspicuous absence of their fathers. The awkwardness only grew. Mai’s uncle, the Warden of the Boiling Rock, had offered to take the place of her father, and kept threatening to revoke his approval, making Zuko promise and swear repeatedly on all the Spirits that he would never hurt Mai emotionally or physically. Uncle Iroh, who had taken the place of Zuko’s own father, found the situation quite amusing. Iroh and Mai had to hold back their laughter and the Warden made Zuko get on his knees and repeat his vows.

The second day was the wedding ceremony itself and Mai’s coronation. Zuko would always remember how beautiful Mai looked in the traditional robes. To the crowd’s– and Zuko’s– surprise, Mai openly cried tears of joy as she said her vows. She accepted her position as Fire Lady earnestly, and even the Sages were pleased. The entire Nation celebrated that night, while Mai and Zuko slipped away to celebrate privately.

The third day was reserved entirely for opening gifts from whoever the council deemed noteworthy. King Kuei had gifted them a large and rather unsightly bear statue that Mai decided could live in one of the many basement sitting rooms. Chief Arnook presented them with heavy duty and finely embroidered Water Tribe tunics for their next visit. Zuko was grateful but slightly disappointed. (On their previous trips to the North, Mai had clung to his side like a burr, seeking his inner fire. Now she would likely burrow into her heavy robes instead.) Chief Hakoda, at his children’s recommendation, gave them matching whale tooth knives. These were privately both Mai and Zuko’s favorite gift of the celebration.

Yet even after this event, they were left with an entire storeroom of gifts from citizens and well-wishers that would have to be dealt with eventually, which is where Mai and Zuko found themselves that evening.

“I don’t even know where to start with all of this,” Zuko sighed. “I don’t mean to be ungrateful, but it’s not like we’re lacking. I wish people would save their money.”

Mai wrapped her arms around her husband. The festivities were making her much more sentimental than usual. “I agree, but think about it this way: they gifted us these things because they appreciate what you’ve done as their leader. It’s all well-deserved.”

Zuko smiled and returned her embrace, “They’re your gifts too. The people are excited to have a Fire Lady again, and I’m so grateful that it’s you. I couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone else.”

Mai smiled and kissed him on the cheek, but she broke away from his hold after that. She wanted to make her way through at least some of this stuff before they left for their honeymoon after a few more days of public festivities. Everything had already been inspected for security purposes and the servants had created a separate section for gifts from people that they may have known personally. Mai made her way there, thinking it would be a good place to begin. Zuko followed and picked up a wrapped parcel with a familiar seal.

“No way,” he said, chuckling. “Mai, this is from our matchmaker!”

“Really?” she leaned into his side to read the attached note.

Dearest Fire Lord and Fire Lady,

From the moment I met the both of you, I could sense that you were destined to be a match. The string of fate between you is strong! By chance, I met you on the same day, and when the young Fire Lord spoke, it felt like he was describing you, Mai dear. It would be months before I learned that was perhaps truer than I could have guessed. Even though I did not bring you two together for the first time, I hope that the two of you are bound to stay. Please accept this token of my congratulations.

The Wedding Weaver

P.S. Zuko darling, thank you for the generous donations to my business.

Mai raised an eyebrow at ‘Zuko darling’. “You’ve been sending her money?”

“Well she got you back with me,” he replied. “I don’t regret a single copper piece!”

Mai laughed and unwrapped the parcel. Unsurprisingly, she gifted them a tapestry. It depicted the two of them standing side by side, surrounded by a border of their birth flowers. It was an impressive likeness considering that she had only seen them once and that she had rendered them in thread and not ink.

“Woah!” Zuko ran his hand along the stitches. “Do you think my council would let me hang this up instead of a royal portrait?”

“Unfortunately, I don’t think so,” Mai replied, “but this is way nicer than the bear statue. We should put it somewhere visible.”

“We should.” Zuko pulled his wife into another embrace. “Do you believe in strings of fate?” he asked, although he suspected he knew the answer.

“No,” Mai answered, “but if such a thing existed, then I believe it would exist between us.”

Zuko buried his face in her hair and smiled. This was about as sappy as Mai got. “I think so too.”

#atla maiko #atla mai #atla zuko #maiko #mai #zuko #atla #avatar the last airbender #mai x zuko #zuko x mai #maikoweek2024 #if Mai and Zuko don't get married in the Zuko movie I will RIOT

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another-clive-blog · 3 months

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I voted to marry the boy, could you write him being incredibly smitten with one Emmy Altava? (I would take any Clemmy really, but Clive MUST be head over heels for her)

SORRY FOR THE DELAY !! My sincerest apologies, this week has been kicking my ass-

This was hard to write, because I'm bad at shipping and also I don't know the first thing about Emmy ? She works with Layton and is gorgeous, that's it :'D I did ask some friends who told me about a camera ?? So I tried to like. Work from there

ANYWAY !! AU where Emmy works at Clive's newspaper as a part-job on top of her adventures with Layton ! She is a photographer and 20-year-old Clive is a writer. Also this is Unwound Future Canon-compliant (kinda ? It works from Clive's perspective). This is teen, comfort no hurt, fluff, and entirely written from clive's POV

Emmy fans I apologize in advance if I didn't do your girl justice, she is gorgeous and I want to get to know her

Clive remembered that fateful day- not the day it had all started, of course, but the day his whole plan had been thrown off the rails.

It was a day just like the others- or rather, it would have been, had his article not been rejected. He had been working at the newspaper for two years now, ever since he'd graduated at age 18 : two years, and not once had one of his articles been refused. All of his work had always been met with approval at worst, congratulations at best- nothing less.

But not this time. The direction hadn't said much about this outrageous event, simply something about his article needing more work, apparently. This usually wouldn't bother Clive : failure was a part of life, and he forgave those poor souls for failing to perceive the greatness of his work.

And yet- this was a problem. Clive had asked to be granted access to informations about the Incident ever since he started working here, and his request had been denied every time. He had to prove his reliability first, they said, show them that he hadn't taken the job just to get his hands on classified files. It was annoying, truly : of course he had, but proving otherwise was tiresome.

But now, with this failure... Was his progress going to fade away ? Could he still hope to get these documents soon ? Or was this the faux pas that would cost him his prize entirely ?

Clive sighed, putting that traitorous piece of paper back on his desk : he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for a moment.

What should he do now ?

"Well, that's a sad face if I've ever seen one," a voice commented in an extremely helpful way. He didn't recognize it, mostly because he couldn't be bothered to learn his colleagues' voices or names- mostly because they kept coming to annoy him at the worst possible time. Which was all the time.

"Could you please leave me alone for once or is it really too much to ask ?" Clive knew that he didn't sound very pleasant or respectful, but that was literally the last of his problems. Besides, he had isolated his desk from the rest specifically because he didn't want others to come bother him.

"Pretty sure this is the first time we meet. At least, I don't remember seeing you before. Are you new too ?" She replied, and she really wasn't leaving, was she ? Then again, if she was new here, she probably didn't know that he wasn't here to make friends.

He opened his eyes.

The first thing to catch his gaze was the odd yellow dress, a strange outfit to wear in a place like this : she looked like an adventurer, not a journalist. There wasn't any dress code to meet in order to work here, but still...

Then again, she did have a bow tie.

"I've been here for two years," he deadpanned. She seemed nice and that was good for her, really, but he wasn't in the mood for chit-chat. "Welcome to the team, I suppose."

She smiled. It wasn't bright like a sun or sweet like chocolate, but it was rather something authentic, that she had worked hard to obtain and preserve. This was the kind of smile that would inspire tons of stories and articles- at least to someone really passionate about this job.

Clive wasn't. He wasn't here to change the world or make friends, he was here to get these classified files that would hopefully help him move on.

"Thank you," she said, before putting one hand on his desk and leaning forward : Clive pushed his chair back a little. "Say, since we're a team now, do you mind telling me why I've never seen you hang out with the others ?"

Oh wow. Alright, no little mind games- just straight to the point.

That really was new.

"Well," Clive muttered, looking away, "I have work to do."

She tilted her head slightly, his answer only making her more curious. "And they don't ?"

Was this some kind of test ? Clive couldn't perceive any ill intentions behind this question, but it didn't sound all that mundane either. What was she at ?

"Of course they do," he explained himself, "But this is important to me, and-" Actually- why was he even telling her that ? She probably didn't care, he didn't care, this whole discussion was useless : he had no reason to keep it going. "And my article just got refused, so I have even more work to do." He said abruptly, hoping to end the conversation.

She didn't go away. "Oh really ? That sucks. Want me to take a look ?" She offered, as if she wasn't new here.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm not sure you can help much," Clive said coldly. He wasn't in the mood for this. "I mean, you're new, and a photographer, so this may not be your-"

"Nonsense !" She put her hands on her hips, the same smile on her face. She had listened to approximately none of his reasoning. Stubborn, Clive thought. Stubborn and very confident.

"I may not write the articles, but I know how they work," she said. "Also, I have learned a thing or two from Layton."

Clive froze. Layton. The professor Layton ? The one who had saved him as a kid, the man who was his model, his inspiration, his-

"Hey, this article is about him !" Quick as a fox, she had leaned over his desk and grabbed the piece of paper : her eyes were done scanning through the first few paragraphs before Clive could even react.

"Wh- where are your manners ?!" He yelled at her, blushing furiously. Alright, that was it-

Pushing his chair back, he quickly made his way around his desk, reaching for his sorry excuse of an article.

She dodged his poor attempt at taking back his sheet of paper with no effort whatsoever. "This is pretty good," she said, talking about the paper rather than his embarrassing fight.

Clive was a clever man- that's why he decided after yet another vain attempt that he couldn't win. Somewhere in his mind, he noted that she had to truly be an adventurer of some kind : she was surprisingly strong, agile and terribly efficient, unbothered by someone like him.

He reluctantly gave up his useless fight, taking a few steps back and crossing his arms instead. "Not good enough, apparently," he spat, glaring at her. She had no shame, no hesitation, no weakness- who even was she ?!

"Yeah, I can see why," she nodded, and Clive was once again baffled by her ability to say honest things without any hard feelings behind it.

"Your article is good, but you forgot the presentation," she explained, stepping closer to better show him : this proximity made Clive agitated, although he wasn't sure why. "You talk like everyone knows Layton, but that's just not true- especially since you're dealing with his first ever adventure. You have to keep everyone in mind, not just the readers who are as knowledgeable about this subject as you are."

Clive choked. "I-I'm not-"

"Hey, I could give you a good photo of Layton !" She interrupted him with a smile. "That way, everyone would know who we're talking about."

"Yeah, about that- do you actually know the professor ?" He narrowed his eyes at her, looking her up and down. She didn't seem like the kind of person the professor would frequent, bow tie or no bow tie.

"Of course !" She said, before her voice took a challenging intonation, "What, wanna bet ?"

Clive scoffed. She was being ridiculous- this was probably all an elaborate plan to make fun of him. He could absolutely picture his colleagues telling her to prank him as some sort of initiation ritual, actually. She certainly was almost as annoying as they all were.

But she may know the professor. "Sure," he finally said. "If you can take this photo and bring it to me, I'll buy you a coffee tomorrow."

"Wow, hey, don't ruin yourself for me Tiger," she sarcastically said. Tiger ??

"Wha-"

"Alright, I'll come tomorrow by your sad and isolated desk to give you the picture," she decided. "I love proving I'm right, almost as much as I love drinking terrible coffees with rude co-workers."

"Are you serious-"

"See you!" She cut him off with a provocative grin, again, and left without listening to another word he had to say, again.

Clive watched her go in silence, furious. Who did she think she was ?! She had been here for what, a couple hours, and she just came up to him like that ? He hoped she had annoyed everyone else too : that way, she'd get fired sooner rather than later.

The thought did make him feel better, and he sat back in his chair, enjoying the calm of the small room where stood his isolated desk. If he focused hard enough, he could hear her laugh with others in the next room- but he couldn't, because he didn't care enough to pay attention.

So since he wasn't listening to the sound of her voice, it was silent. And enjoyable. And lonely- which was good, because he hated having to deal with others. Especially her -what was her name again ? Not that it mattered-, because she was so rude and straight-forward and confident. Really confident.

Nevermind.

He picked up the article, looking at it thoughtfully. He needed this article to be accepted, and he needed it to be his best work yet : it was the only way to prove he was worthy of the reputation he had built for himself, and, most importantly- the only way to get what he wanted, the Truth.

...Presentation, uh ?

-_-_-_-

Surely enough, the very next day, Emmy came back to his desk with a brand new picture.

Professor Layton, sitting at a table, enjoying a nice cup of tea. He was smiling serenely, and his face held a bit of warmth, of comfort, of home.

"There you go !" Emmy said with a very satisfied smile, one that Clive wasn't ready to see this early in the morning.

He took the photo she was handing him. It felt recent and authentic : in fact, he could see yesterday's newspaper on the table, next to Layton's hand. It was crazy. There was no way they actually knew each other.

"Are you a paparazzi ?" He asked before he could stop himself. He shouldn't throw accusations her way in case she really was close to the professor, but what else could it be ?

"What ? No !" Emmy didn't seem to get offended- on the contrary, she stood proudly, hands on her hips. "I'm his associate !"

Oh.

Clive fell silent, his gaze wandering back to the picture. The professor was facing whoever had taken the photography : he was fully aware someone was here, taking this very picture. Had she asked him to smile ? Or was he just that happy to help his associate win a stupid bet and make a name for herself at her new job ?

Why would someone like the professor choose her as an associate ?

"That's odd," Emmy said with feigned naivety. "I recall you being a real Layton fan, and yet you didn't recognize the one and only Emmy Altava, associate of the great professor Layton ? Surely someone as knowledgeable as you should know this. I mean, it'd be pretty humiliating if you didn't, right ?"

He looked up, staring at her, and she stared him down with a provocative smirk, waiting for his answer.

Somehow, he... he wasn't mad. He didn't feel like angrily answering or starting a fight, which was relatively rare : maybe this was due to the fact that he knew she could easily destroy him.

Or maybe this was due to the fact that he really wanted to know what Layton had seen in her, now. "I'm not a Layton fan, and I didn't know he had an associate."

Emmy's smirk disappeared quickly at his admission, replaced with something that was almost disappointment. She hummed, looking at him strangely. "...This is really not as satisfying as you had me believe it would be. I was looking forward to crushing your little ego under my boot."

Alright- forget that. Clive scoffed. "Don't forget I have to buy you a disgusting coffee now, so we're stuck together for a few more painful minutes."

"Ah- I had indeed forgotten about that part," She admitted, scratching the top of her head. All of the antagonizing and taunting was gone, just like that, Clive noticed : how did she move on so quickly ? He never ever missed an opportunity to rightfully put people in their places. But she was already over it ??

Emmy -she did say her name was Emmy, right ? Emmy Altava- shrugged, coming to a decision. "Disgusting coffee is better than no coffee. Lead the way, Tiger."

He groaned. "Stop calling me that."

"Wait," she paused, and he stared at her while waiting for whatever nonsense she was about to spit. "...What is your name ?"

...You know what- that was fair. He hadn't told her, after all. "I'm Clive Dove."

She snapped her fingers, that same confident grin on her lips. "Great. Lead the way, Clivey."

Clive groaned before leaving the room without a word. Emmy followed him with a satisfied grin, very proud and amused by his pointless anger.

Clive walked faster, trying to hide the blush that crept on his face.

-_-_-_-

They didn't interact much after the coffee : in fact, they didn't talk at all for the next few days.

Clive would see her sometimes, or hear her. He heard her a lot : she had a booming voice, full of life and passion. Whenever she talked to another one of their colleagues, Clive would hear her contagious laugh, listen to her stories from the loneliness of his small isolated desk.

She was a great storyteller. Managing her effects, adding plenty of details, adapting to her audience- it felt real. Clive could picture her stories, her adventures at the professor's side.

This was exactly what gave him a new idea, bright like always.

He came across her in the corridor, while she was heading to get herself a coffee. "Oh- Clivey ! It's been some time, hasn't it ?"

He gritted his teeth. This was a bright idea. He only had bright ideas. "Ignoring that first part. I wanted to tell you something."

She didn't seem all that excited, merely eyeing him up and down like they were in a box ring. "What- you want me to prove you wrong again ? Cuz I can do that-"

"No, no," he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Why was she always so impulsive ? "I wanted to tell you that I submitted my article again, and the direction as well as the audience were really enthusiastic this time."

She seemed to relax, smiling instead. "That's great ! I'm happy for you."

"Also I added your name to it."

She... stopped smiling. In fact, she remained uncharacteristically silent, staring at him as if she was trying to see beyond his calm expression.

It was unsettling- deeply, extremely unsettling. It felt as though she could look at him and see everything he was hiding : his dead parents, his need for answers, his plan to get these files, his... his dead parents. There was nothing else he was hiding.

And yet, he felt his face go red under her scrutinizing gaze. Stupid, embarrassing shame.

"You helped me with the photography and the structure of the article, so it's only fair," he explained in a small voice, crossing his arms. He was not going to look at her. He was not going to meet her gaze and help her find whatever she was looking for. "And that's also why I'm here. I would like to offer you to- to work on a series of articles about the professor."

Clive still refused to watch her reaction, and it took another couple of seconds for Emmy to react : but when she did, she put her hands on her hips, leaning forward with a wide grin. Clive hated when she did that, it made him feel so small compared to her. She was also closer to him, which made him feel really... uncomfortable. And hot. "You want me to work on these ? With you, I suppose ?"

"Obviously," he scoffed, shrugging nonchalantly- or so he tried.

"...Why ?" She sounded concerned- curious too. There was something in her that wasn't sure about this project, and yet there was an even bigger part of her who wanted to get more out of this, to explore all the possibilities.

Clive couldn't care less about possibilities, or colleagues, or success : there was only one success that mattered to him, and it was getting these classified informations.

Which was exactly why he wanted to work with Emmy. Her proximity with Layton and, he'll admit it, her set of skills were perfect to help him reach his own goal. "Because you know a lot about the professor, and your stories are good material. Also, you could provide with pictures and- and presentation advices, I suppose. Probably," he muttered. She was still so close- should he step back ?

No, she would probably get offended. Oh well- he just had to keep standing inches from her, then.

She seemed amused. "I thought you weren't a Layton fan. Why are you asking me to tell you about him ?"

"He's a good inspiration for articles," he said, trying to sound professional- and why was he even trying ? This was professional. It was a professional setting. "Only an idiot would let this opportunity go."

"And you're not an idiot." She thought about it for a minute, before she shrugged : "Why not ! I'm here to create articles, after all. But first I need my coffee." She stretched her back before taking a few steps away, heading for her long-awaited beverage.

Clive felt... almost disappointed to see her leaving, but the unusual joy overcame it easily. She had accepted to work with him, they were gonna be a team- which meant that he was getting closer to achieving his goal. "Wait- want me to buy you a coffee ?"

She chuckled. "Don't ruin yourself for me, Clivey."

He didn't make any comment on the name.

-_-_-_-

Getting to work with Emmy was just delightful. She was as efficient as he was, both straight-forward in their criticism, always looking for ways to improve, listening to the other's suggestions before making up their minds. They made an exceptional team with perfect cohesion and excellent results.

Of course, the direction had noticed it too. Their articles were a hit among the newspaper's audience, even bringing in new customers : everyone was curious about this duo who wrote entertaining articles about some professor. It almost felt like fiction, and people liked to read these improbable stories that stood out from the rest of the usual news coverage.

The audience wanted more, the direction wanted more, and so Emmy and Clive logically decided to make more articles : day after day, week after week, they kept creating more and more stories, to the point that they would spend most of the day together- even the sacred coffee break.

"And that's how we found out that Descole really was behind all of this," Emmy finished her story, taking her cup of coffee in one hand. "I mean, I had my suspicions- but without the professor, I never would have guessed what was truly going on."

Clive nodded, absent-mindedly scribbling a few notes. His own cup had been left completely untouched, his coffee cold by now.

This detail didn't go unnoticed. "Cold coffee won't taste better, you know," Emmy joked.

Clive stopped writing, looking at his cup in silence.

Emmy frowned. "Hey, are you okay ?"

Clive looked at her, then at his notes. They were precise and neatly written at first, like always, before suddenly going... messy. Which was weird, because Clive hated messy.

"I just thought about something," he explained.

"Oh ?" She leaned forward on the table : her curious eyes were scanning Clive's face, waiting for any piece of information. Her coffee was left forgotten- it was disgusting anyway.

Clive brought his own cup to his lips, a poor attempt at hiding the blush on his face- because he was blushing, he knew that.

After all, this was exactly the something he had been thinking about.

It had taken him weeks to realize it. But surely enough, at some point, he had stopped listening to the stories and started listening solely to the voice telling them. He had stopped seeing work as a means to an end and started to look forward to seeing her in the morning, to sharing a coffee with her day after day.

He had even stopped caring about these stupid classified files. He would never stop being curious about the truth, wanting deep down to know what truly went down- but he could also portray his life in a world where he wouldn't get to know. Maybe he could never know, and still be okay, as long as he had another source of motivation.

Emmy. His work with her- scratch that. Just Emmy. He knew it was her and not these pointless articles : even the professor, his childhood hero, seemed to pale in comparison to her, recently.

He had wondered why the professor had made her his associate : now he knew, maybe even more than Layton himself.

"I was just- just thinking," he said, before taking a sip of coffee. It was cold, and bitter, and frankly disgusting : this newspaper should be able to afford better coffees, especially with all the records in sells recently. But this disgusting coffee allowed him to share a moment with Emmy, so maybe it was a bit okay. "About stuff."

"Very specific," Emmy mocked him, "Come on, spit it out !"

Oh, there was no way he was telling her. Admitting it -partly- to himself was already a big enough challenge. "I was- well, I was wondering if the professor was okay with us writing about his life."

Emmy rose an eyebrow, settling back in her chair. It really was just a game of getting closer and away, wasn't it ? "The professor doesn't mind. He is flattered someone is that invested in his adventures. He said he'd like to meet you, one day," Emmy simply answered, looking at him funny. There it was, that scrutinizing gaze that was looking for secrets, trying to uncover everything he wasn't saying- "But really, Clivey, we've been doing that for weeks. You only wonder about that now ?"

"I guess I didn't want this to stop, in case he was bothered," he simply said.

If Emmy noticed the way he passed up the opportunity to meet Layton himself, she didn't say a thing. "Ah, right. You're not an idiot, and you're not passing up any opportunities."

"Exactly," Clive said. He wasn't blushing anymore, so he put his coffee down- it was really too disgusting, anyway.

Emmy nodded. "We have enough for our next article. We should get back to work- you know, so you keep getting opportunities." She said this with a touch of humor, and Clive chuckled at it. It wasn't even that funny, but she had a way of making him happy that only worked with her : another colleague would have him rolling his eyes and spitting a distateful comment.

"Alright- I just need to go back to my desk first," he said, standing up and gathering his stuff.

In a fraction of second, Emmy was next to him. "Go get it, Tiger," she gently punched him in the shoulder. Uh, it'd been some time since she used that one.

"And Clive ?" She added. "I'm glad we took this opportunity. Together." And with that, she winked at him.

Clive stared dumbly at her, her words taking a minute to register : when they did however, he felt his whole face heating up in a way he couldn't possibly hide.

"I- uh- I mean-" He stuttered like an idiot, unable to form any thought. What did she mean by that ? Was this a friendly remark ? Or did she- did she also-

Was she also in love with him ? Because he was in love, madly. And maybe he hoped she was too.

He didn't know what miracle happened, but she left without any comments and he remained alone, his stuff in his hands and his heartbeat racing. He must look pathetic, being so red in the face and trembling because of a single remark. He was weak, weak for her, and what was left to be done ?

Luckily -a second miracle-, he didn't see any colleagues as he rushed back to his desk : if any of them had seen him like this, a trembling blushing mess, he probably would have no choice but to kill them.

Putting his stuff on one side of the desk, he himself dropped onto his chair, palms pressed against his face. Even now, even with his eyes closed, he could still see her beautiful smile, the way she winked at him-

No. No no no- he had to stop imagining stuff. There was no way she saw him as more than a colleague -a friend, maybe, emphasis on the maybe- and he would ruin everything if he couldn't respect her feelings on the matter. He didn't- he didn't actually need to- to date her- dating her, he was thinking about dating her and it sounded so wonderful, everything he could ask for, and-

No ! No, alright ? She wasn't interested, and he respected that. And he didn't need to date her, just getting to talk to her, to see her being so vibrant and passionate and confident, a real force of nature- just that was enough. He didn't need more.

He was happy with just getting to see her.

He dropped his hands, taking a deep breath. His heartbeat was still a bit fast, but it was returning to normal : even the red on his face was gone. It was alright. He would be alright, as long as he could keep things as they were.

And if he wasn't entirely satisfied with the way things were, if he kept longing for more, then it was his problem.

He opened his eyes, only to notice a white envelope on the middle of his desk. It... hadn't been there before. Who had put this here ?

Curious if not wary, he got closer and took the sheet of paper, turning it around in his hand.

On the front, he could read "Access to classified files granted"

#And then we get Emo king Clive with 'Oh no you don't' Emmy. Toxic Yuri my friends (Alright I'm joking I'm joking dw)#Also I know the end is an angsty cliffhanger and the beginning is more comedy than shipping but. Idk I'm bad at shipping #Emmy fans I would love to know how accurate I wrote her 👀 I literally rewrote this whole thing 5 times cuz it didn't feel right #So I hope this is the right one !! Although I did wonder if she would be around canonically. Or if she would work at a newspaper #I do feel like she drinks coffee tho. And Clive is fond of beverages so we're good =)#Anyway I'm rambling a lot ??? Point is- sorry for the delay and I hope you like it !!#Now I still have to finish my Big Bang outline. It is mostly done but I'd like to add an excerpt too. So I will probably post less here #Clive dove #Emmy altava #clemmy #professor layton and the unwound future #professor layton and the lost future #My writing #Ask

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