weirdlet

Saw an interesting prompt on another person's meme, actually wrote something for once (gasp!). Cut for mpreg and grouchy firebenders.

Edit- ack, forgot to include the prompt itself. It goes as follows: Ozai mpreg. Zuko is Ozai's son, but Ozai isn't his father. Zhao is. Fury.

When the Fire Nation’s second prince starts heaving over the rails, it’s put down to a sudden relapse of seasickness. Although Fire has conquered Water, it still has its influences and a powerful bender can be occasionally sensitive to oppositional elements. It’s an unpleasant experience but a good sign, or so say the reports, because while anything less than flattering about his younger son might not bother Firelord Azulon on a personal level, he is surely a stickler for the appearance of Imperial dignity at all times.

This is possibly why Prince Ozai is on the newly-traditional hunt for the Avatar in the first place. That affair with the soldier-girl on Ember Island… a civil brawl wasn’t quite the same as a public Agni Kai, but Captain Zhao had hauled enough young nobles out of trouble to know that such a loss of face often meant having to stay out of the public eye for a while, and doubly so when the whole thing had to be royally hushed up.

Still, it has brought him into contact with quite the opportunity for advancement, so hosting a spoiled prince, still smarting from a very public lover’s tiff, as his technical subordinate and all the mishmashed hell of conflicting authority that implied isn’t all bad.

And all that simmering anger, when carefully nurtured into a well-hidden, explosive and tempestuous affair, makes for a very hot time behind the doors of the stateroom cabin. The young royal is getting an education well worth the trip- and his captain is allowed to indulge in a treat rarely known to those whose titles are earned, not inherited. Mad dragon’s eyes, a knowing smirk, and the sheen of sweat on ivory skin gone golden in the candlelight has Zhao as enraptured as the promise of favors yet unpledged, goodwill being built as he- well, speaks isn’t the word for it. No one can say he hasn’t proven his loyalty most joyously and fervently.

…

The messenger hawk that recalls Prince Ozai to the capital has a trail of three golden ribbons- the only possible higher classification would be white with gold edges, signifying a death in the Imperial family. Zhao is certain this is the prince’s own fault- he certainly never sent word of any suspicions to the Firelord, and his review of the logs in the ship’s mews tells him that someone sent an extra hawk. The ship’s physician hasn’t said a word, and Zhao knows the man well enough to be sure he would have been consulted first. This is the sort of thing where you really want to pass the coin up and out of your jurisdiction if at all humanly possible.

It couldn’t just be something caught off one of the women in the local ports, oh no…

It sometimes happens that a son or a daughter is born just a little bit between states, enough for surprises to show up once they’ve reached the age where the sexes are separated to keep them out of trouble. It occasionally runs in families, and is usually kept quiet but not deathly silent- like calf-piglets showing up in a hogchicken’s nest, it’s something that just happens, once in a while.

Where it not for a very strong leaning towards the virile, it might have been Princess Ozai that had been sent to sea until the public could forget her indiscretions, something that Zhao has discovered and enjoyed the sheer novelty of thoroughly in their time together. Unfortunately, Prince Ozai is perfectly capable of finding further indiscretions to be had, and this one’s a doozy.

When he hears that the official wording is for the prince to come home and meet his bride at the wedding, Zhao isn’t surprised. The swift courier boat with the rich store of fabrics and the royal tailors on board are unusual but not, given the circumstances, much of a stretch, given that the plan is for the royal procession to go directly from the gangplank to the sages’ temple, and then on to the palace.

The flash of fury in Ozai’s eyes as he steps down onto the docks, though- that worries him. And when he sees the bride’s veil lifted, even from the back of the temple, he thinks he understands why.

To be publicly shamed by a lover is one thing- and Zhao notices that the young officer’s swords are conspicuously absent from her trappings of rank, perhaps to avoid reminder of same. To be brought back before her, practically in gilded chains, with only further shame being hidden by full robes and royal proclamations instead of being able to win her over himself, is galling to Ozai’s pride.

It’s only later, when he is barred from the palace reception and furthermore ordered to the farthest reaches of the front, that he realizes he might have spent some time making sure that the prince didn’t shift some of that blame to him, the little snakeweasel.