Fic post! "Flowers to Offer" III
Title: Flowers to Offer, III
Author:
miri_away
Date: Nov-Dec 13, 07
Type: Fanfic (Avatar: the Last Airbender)
Genre: Romance, Humor,
Rating: PG-13
Summary: It’s almost cowardly, but so is holding an innocent scroll over a candle.
AN: Based on "The Invasion" I believe and a parallel to Asphodel.
--
Flowers to Offer
miri_away
French marigold: Separation
This time there’s a note to go with it and Mai is fairly sure she’s sick of goodbyes. She can stomach this just as much as she can endure Ty Lee’s pitiful tries at empathy every time Zuko does something stupid (which isn't saying much) but it still brings about a sick swoop of acid to her tongue and a bitter drizzle of sweat to her brow, back, and palms which, too quickly to blame on a breeze, leaves her cold.
He didn’t even bother to put the scroll out of sight, so of course she ignores it. The annoying swoon in her stomach coupled with the vivid memory of Azula's smirks tell her that she should not be surprised. For a day, at least, she would like to have the ability to doubt the prince. At least then she can react the way she’s supposed to.
She takes her time undressing, eyeing her bed with a passive form of contempt. It’s been a week and none of the servants had come by to take the damn thing away: it sits there, waiting for her to cut the ribbon, break the seal, and…what? It’s been a week, but it only took two days for the summons to arrive at her aunt’s door and it only took one look at the princess to know it was probably best she hadn’t been anywhere near the palace that day. All the same, she needs to know what he has to say for himself, if only to prove the Fire Lord’s taunting tale wrong.
Rather than open it right away, she tries to picture the events that led him to break into her room (again) and leave it on the pillow in favor of telling her in person. It’s almost cowardly, but so is holding an innocent scroll over a candle.
The flower goes by unnoticed for the first read-through; by the second, she realizes what she’d been twisting are leaves and the softness she’d been pressing between her fingers are petals. They have half-moon bruises that turn a darker gold and Mai is sick. The colors are a riot next to the varying reds in her room and, while they could remind her of Zuko’s eyes, the bruises and the veins do not scratch or tear away to reveal yellow or gold, do not prove to be anything but what she saw and could not believe she’d ignored.
She hates orange. She guesses that’s the point.
Author:
miri_away
Date: Nov-Dec 13, 07
Type: Fanfic (Avatar: the Last Airbender)
Genre: Romance, Humor,
Rating: PG-13
Summary: It’s almost cowardly, but so is holding an innocent scroll over a candle.
AN: Based on "The Invasion" I believe and a parallel to Asphodel.
--
Flowers to Offer
miri_away
French marigold: Separation
This time there’s a note to go with it and Mai is fairly sure she’s sick of goodbyes. She can stomach this just as much as she can endure Ty Lee’s pitiful tries at empathy every time Zuko does something stupid (which isn't saying much) but it still brings about a sick swoop of acid to her tongue and a bitter drizzle of sweat to her brow, back, and palms which, too quickly to blame on a breeze, leaves her cold.
He didn’t even bother to put the scroll out of sight, so of course she ignores it. The annoying swoon in her stomach coupled with the vivid memory of Azula's smirks tell her that she should not be surprised. For a day, at least, she would like to have the ability to doubt the prince. At least then she can react the way she’s supposed to.
She takes her time undressing, eyeing her bed with a passive form of contempt. It’s been a week and none of the servants had come by to take the damn thing away: it sits there, waiting for her to cut the ribbon, break the seal, and…what? It’s been a week, but it only took two days for the summons to arrive at her aunt’s door and it only took one look at the princess to know it was probably best she hadn’t been anywhere near the palace that day. All the same, she needs to know what he has to say for himself, if only to prove the Fire Lord’s taunting tale wrong.
Rather than open it right away, she tries to picture the events that led him to break into her room (again) and leave it on the pillow in favor of telling her in person. It’s almost cowardly, but so is holding an innocent scroll over a candle.
The flower goes by unnoticed for the first read-through; by the second, she realizes what she’d been twisting are leaves and the softness she’d been pressing between her fingers are petals. They have half-moon bruises that turn a darker gold and Mai is sick. The colors are a riot next to the varying reds in her room and, while they could remind her of Zuko’s eyes, the bruises and the veins do not scratch or tear away to reveal yellow or gold, do not prove to be anything but what she saw and could not believe she’d ignored.
She hates orange. She guesses that’s the point.