Twenty-Six
Author: Omoni
Prompt: 26/Blood
Title: Love and Loss
Rating: T+
Author's Notes: Spoilers for the end of the series. Also warning for some graphic imagery and description of stillbirth.
Completed/Total: 26/100
Love and Loss
Blood was said to be the source of life. The thick substance that coursed through every living thing in some variation was what connected all living things together. Without it, one could not live. With it, a person could live to the fullest.
It was said that to be hot-blooded was to be passionate. Blood curdled if scared. Blood raced if excited. Blood chilled if one felt wronged.
It was blood that made Zuko feel all of these things. It was also the sight of blood that made him feel this way.
But fear was the most he felt, above everything else.
He had stayed at Mai's side as long as he could, no matter how hard she crushed his hand with hers, no matter how loud she screamed and cursed and cried. But when he caught the scent - and sight - of blood, he was abruptly led out of the room, despite his protests and orders, and was forced to leave her alone.
Now he listened, pacing, shaking, wishing he could do something, vowing that nothing mattered if Mai was okay, nothing mattered if she got through unscathed, it would be okay if they lost this one if she lived to try again...
Silence. Sudden, breathtaking silence. Zuko felt his heart skip several beats, holding his breath, trying to strain his hearing, desperate to hear something, anything...
Silence. Only silence.
Something feral blossomed deep in his chest, and he shouted, slamming a fist on the door. When the silence stretched on, he did it again, louder, harder.
Finally, the door slid open, revealing the pale midwife. Zuko stared at her, fighting the urge to grab her and shake her. The silence was deafening.
Slowly, the midwife shook her head.
Something in Zuko snapped, and he lunged forward and shoved her aside, running into the room that smelled like blood and pain and fear...
It was dim, and quiet. His eyes fell on the midwife's assistant, who was hunched over and wrapping something small in a blanket, her face drawn and her eyes averted from him. His heart ached, knowing what that meant, but he pushed it aside, desperation making him forget it - just for a moment.
Also wrapped in blankets up to her chin was Mai, looking pale and tiny. Her eyes were closed, but she was breathing, shivering. Blood stained some of the blankets, but she didn't seem to notice - or care.
Zuko went to her side, sitting at the edge of the bed and leaning down, taking her gently into his arms and holding her close. Her arms went around him, weak but firm, her hot tears burning his chest as she wept. He held her softly, worried about hurting her, but not wanting to deny her comfort. Carefully, he whispered to her, words of encouragement, about how they'll try again, about how this wasn't the end. Mai merely whimpered, her eyes shut, her teeth gritted together.
Blood was the source of life. But it can also be a sign that life is taken away.
Zuko learned this the night he lost his first child.
Prompt: 26/Blood
Title: Love and Loss
Rating: T+
Author's Notes: Spoilers for the end of the series. Also warning for some graphic imagery and description of stillbirth.
Completed/Total: 26/100
Love and Loss
Blood was said to be the source of life. The thick substance that coursed through every living thing in some variation was what connected all living things together. Without it, one could not live. With it, a person could live to the fullest.
It was said that to be hot-blooded was to be passionate. Blood curdled if scared. Blood raced if excited. Blood chilled if one felt wronged.
It was blood that made Zuko feel all of these things. It was also the sight of blood that made him feel this way.
But fear was the most he felt, above everything else.
He had stayed at Mai's side as long as he could, no matter how hard she crushed his hand with hers, no matter how loud she screamed and cursed and cried. But when he caught the scent - and sight - of blood, he was abruptly led out of the room, despite his protests and orders, and was forced to leave her alone.
Now he listened, pacing, shaking, wishing he could do something, vowing that nothing mattered if Mai was okay, nothing mattered if she got through unscathed, it would be okay if they lost this one if she lived to try again...
Silence. Sudden, breathtaking silence. Zuko felt his heart skip several beats, holding his breath, trying to strain his hearing, desperate to hear something, anything...
Silence. Only silence.
Something feral blossomed deep in his chest, and he shouted, slamming a fist on the door. When the silence stretched on, he did it again, louder, harder.
Finally, the door slid open, revealing the pale midwife. Zuko stared at her, fighting the urge to grab her and shake her. The silence was deafening.
Slowly, the midwife shook her head.
Something in Zuko snapped, and he lunged forward and shoved her aside, running into the room that smelled like blood and pain and fear...
It was dim, and quiet. His eyes fell on the midwife's assistant, who was hunched over and wrapping something small in a blanket, her face drawn and her eyes averted from him. His heart ached, knowing what that meant, but he pushed it aside, desperation making him forget it - just for a moment.
Also wrapped in blankets up to her chin was Mai, looking pale and tiny. Her eyes were closed, but she was breathing, shivering. Blood stained some of the blankets, but she didn't seem to notice - or care.
Zuko went to her side, sitting at the edge of the bed and leaning down, taking her gently into his arms and holding her close. Her arms went around him, weak but firm, her hot tears burning his chest as she wept. He held her softly, worried about hurting her, but not wanting to deny her comfort. Carefully, he whispered to her, words of encouragement, about how they'll try again, about how this wasn't the end. Mai merely whimpered, her eyes shut, her teeth gritted together.
Blood was the source of life. But it can also be a sign that life is taken away.
Zuko learned this the night he lost his first child.