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Fic Meme
So- at this very second, I'm going quietly mad finishing up late art for non-profit business. But! I am an impatient multitasker looking to bite off more than I can chew, and by morning I'll be free either way- and thus I should like to try this nifty 'meme' thing going around.
Because I'm new at this and looking to stretch, let's start with five slots, one per person. The fandom and theme- Avatar: the Last Airbender, Dragon Hatching AU- for reference, please see this fic. Anything you would like to see in or about this universe.
I'm not as fast as some other writers, so I can't promise they'll be immediately answered, but I will get to them.
Edit- As the art hath been finished, consider the earlier restriction lifted and feel free to prompt at will, so long as it be on topic.
Because I'm new at this and looking to stretch, let's start with five slots, one per person. The fandom and theme- Avatar: the Last Airbender, Dragon Hatching AU- for reference, please see this fic. Anything you would like to see in or about this universe.
I'm not as fast as some other writers, so I can't promise they'll be immediately answered, but I will get to them.
Edit- As the art hath been finished, consider the earlier restriction lifted and feel free to prompt at will, so long as it be on topic.
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Sparks is jealous of Ozai's fiance.
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Still, it's getting to be about that time- she's growing into a young woman, and her instructresses are noting that the younger prince has grown tall, and strong, and goodness, she’d better start making her presence known before someone else catches his eye-! So she pulls up her hair and files her nails, lacquers them a blushing red with little heart-of-flames gold-leafed into the tips, and joins the audience for his daily training regimen.
It’s changed since the last time she visited- Ozai is tall, and strong, and would be skinny as a feral cat without the muscle he’s put on. He’s also followed constantly by a sleek and spoiled dragonlet, the first and only one to be seen in many decades.
It joins in the firebending lessons, dancing and flaring and begging for treats, and Eboshi wonders how she’s supposed to compete with that when the boy’s so clearly besotted. He struts, a proud father at sixteen, and exactly the kind who wouldn’t know the time of day if it didn’t relate to his latest hobby.
It’s a lecture if she doesn’t try, though, and so afterwards she sidles closer, parasol a-twirl. Her fingernails flash in the sun as she scritches behind his someday-mount’s brows, and the prince’s eyes are searching and wary as she smiles. Spark, as it’s apparently called, nips at her fingers and demands a scrap of dried meat, which Ozai gives to her to pass on from a pouch at his belt.
That gains her an invitation to go walking in the gardens, and Eboshi smiles without feigning as she pretends not to skip home.
Little does she know what she’s in for.
Oh, the walk is fine, the gardens are lovely, and the prince’s hand is warm when it traces the inside of her wrist. Perhaps it’s the tremble that sets up that causes her to tumble into the pond.
She’d place a stronger bet on the little clawed feet that stuck her hems to the ground just so, though.
Ozai is all startled regrets and just-short-of apologies, and servants towel her off and put her to rights as she graciously accepts his invitation to some trivial event or other, and goes on her merry way again.
The next time it’s a misplaced dead snakeweasel and she thanks her lucky stars her best dress doesn’t show red stains. Spark is all eeling grace and catty pride under Ozai’s praise.
About the time she has to pretend short hair is in fashion after an accident (“She’s just a baby, she’ll learn control soon-“) Eboshi begins to think that thing is actually laughing at her. Nastily. Behind Ozai’s back, and it is such a lovely back and would be a shame to stain it with blood from breaking a vase over his pretty thick head, wouldn’t it, but laughing nonetheless.
When she gets tail-swiped off the royal barge during a party at sea (and what the hell was that thing doing allowed on a ship anyway, it’s getting big enough to serve as a barge-!) Eboshi calmly radiates herself dry and goes home. The next day she packs her bags, shaves her head and sends a letter to her cousin the nun.
(Years later, when the mountain shakes to the very foothills and it’s said that a whirlwind of colored flames spirals to the sky, the newly-appointed matron will shudder and close herself in her office with the shutters closed and a stiff drink.)
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There's an understanding that her family is on the short list of appropriate candidates for anyone in the immediate Imperial line, and she's the only daughter who's not married, a babe in arms, or a militant nun in the Western Continental Reformed Sages' temple.
Best line ever.
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(And woman, don't ask for five! That's insane!)
((I also realized I have not friend-ed you yet. *friends*))
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When Ursa is willing to come out to the wide courtyard, Ozai whistles down his dragon from the sky and smiles as she curls her two-horse length along the stones.
She leans forward, whiskers twitching with interest, and Ursa rests heavily on the chair that's been set out for her and doesn't punch her on the nose when she gets too close. They've gained something of an accord over the years, and broody female trounces adolescent any day of the week, even when said senior female is half your size and has no claws.
Zuko looks up in wonder from his father's lap- he was presented to Spark in the same way when he was small, and the great finned head holds no fear for him. Just as he knows not to tug so hard on the flailing whisker when it passes by your reach- and he reacts to the snort of pain when Azula does just that by calling out in his little half-worded voice, reaching out a tiny hand to sooth the insulted appendage.
Spark lowers herself with a grumble, accepting the older hatchling's affection with some small grace, sniffing him over again while he giggles as if for the first time. Ozai picks up his son as he's tumbled over and scratches behind his dragon's ears, his wife looking over the three of them indulgently.
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I suppose no one has told Azula not to meddle with dragons, for she is crunchy and tastes good with ketchup. She better be glad she is Ozai's youngest hatchling.
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Is this prompt okay?
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He found it in an ancient refuse heap in the old stables, swept in with straw and dirt and tremendous amounts of ash by some lazy servant who knew this wing of the palace wasn't going to be inspected anytime soon. It's sort of little (but bigger than his head) and it's not really shiny, but he thinks he's found treasure. And when he hides it away, he thinks it gleams, just a little, an enormous rock that's green and black and speckled.
Someday he'll hatch it, just like Daddy.
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I love this whole series btw and find it awesome that you're writing it.
Does having a dragon change any of Ozai's policies? Zuko's scar?
(And...well, a thought to throw into the hat: some of my favorite AU's are where the same things happen, just for very very different reasons and with somewhat different pattern of fallout.)
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I love those AU's too (especially since it's sometimes mind-boggling to try and figure out how one little thing changes *everything*)- part of why I put up the meme was to get some specific challenges to work around, because it's so wide open in my mind.
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But Zuko and his dragon at the Western Air Temple, after DoBS.
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At least from an actually-fulfilling-his-destiny perspective.
Aang is sympathetic, gentle and optimistic. It's irritating, but better than Katara, who's taking a little too much satisfaction in something that means the world could end. He comes up with an idea, though. Desperate and half-cracked, but it's gotta be better than just sitting around at the Air Temple punching the air and fizzling.
He checks his bag before he goes- he's used to living light, but he's also used to hiding his small treasures where they can't be found and destroyed. He's not sure why he took this one when he left- an old stone that, once upon a time, he had a dream of hatching into a dragon, just like his father's. When he was small, he'd found it in an ancient heap of ash in the closed wing of the stables- and when he'd returned from exile, it had still been in its little cubbyhole where he'd tucked it, the one Azula had never found.
He takes it with him.
It's not like nostalgia could kill his fire any deader.
Zuko and the Avatar take on the ancient ruins together. They promptly end up beslimed, captured by decidedly not-ancient Sun Warriors, and stripped of their belongings. When the warriors find the stone in his bag, there is sudden silence, and then quiet discussion out of their hearing.
Aang is insufferably curious. He tries a little trick that the monks never taught him, and for good reason- but it turns out that master or no, hearing distant things on the wind is a little advanced for him.
They are sent up the mountain, with offerings of flame and stone.
When at last they return, Katara is hysterical and ready to strike him down on sight- but the two of them, dirty, tired, stinking of sweat, hoist a sleeping hatchling between them.
He won't be ready to do much more than spit sparks by the time the comet comes- but with what they learned bringing him to life, Aang and Zuko can take on the Firelord.
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