Fic Meme

[weirdlet]

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.

Comments

[weirdlet.livejournal.com]

Lady Eboshi hasn't so much lived with the spectre as shrugged off the vague suggestion of an arranged marriage with the royal family some day. 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. There’s one prince of age and not already wedded, and those who keep track of such things simply assume what’s to be so.

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.)

[beckyh2112.livejournal.com]

Mwahahaha! *claps in delight* I like her. She's nifty-keen, and she puts up with a lot of shit in her efforts to snag Ozai. I also like that she's doing it because she's obligated to.

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.

[weirdlet.livejournal.com]

*grins* I'm glad you like it- and I think Eboshi is probably not the only one to have been driven to drink, the cloth, or the asylum by Ozai's obliviousness.