[ooc: DDD Prompt]
Player: savingdaisydiva
Subject: Ozai
Table: B
Prompt: Plead
I wish to be on the front lines.
They hadn’t known each other long; it was an arranged wedding. She was quietly accepting her fate; he was bristling to be chained down. She knew it had to happen eventually but he was a young man who longed to show his mettle on the battleground.
Standing side by side, their differences were clearer. He had sharp features, the spitting image of the Fire Lord. She had a particular gentleness to the way she held herself. Perhaps that’s why they chosen to be wed; to even each other out.
I am just as skilled as my older brother. You know I can beat him.
It was a chance meeting in the hallway. The Fire Lord wasn’t known to wander the palace most of the time; he had grown far too old. He saw his younger son coming down the hallway at a hurried pace with gaze directed downwards. The Fire Lord raised an eyebrow and motioned to his son. “I thought you were getting married,” Azulon said in a low tone.
His son barely slowed down. “There ceremony is over,” he muttered under his breath while continuing on. “I am married.”
A singular ‘good’ was the only response.
I am greater than him.
“A son is on the way.”
Ozai turned from the window to his wife, a small smile on his features. Clearly the news pleased him. He grabbed his wife’s soft hands in his large ones. “A son; those healers better be right.”
She simply looked back at him. “I feel it. It’s going to be a son; I do want a daughter,” she replied softly.
“For what, Ursa? Perhaps we’ll have a daughter later but a son as the firstborn, surely that is enough,” Ozai said with a raised eyebrow.
“I want to raise a daughter as much as you want to raise a son, Ozai. I don’t ask you why you want a son; I only ask you do the same for me.”
Of course, Fire Lord Azulon, I know the reason why you came to that solution.
For some, the life of a soldier would be more fitting that one of a father.
Subject: Ozai
Table: B
Prompt: Plead
I wish to be on the front lines.
They hadn’t known each other long; it was an arranged wedding. She was quietly accepting her fate; he was bristling to be chained down. She knew it had to happen eventually but he was a young man who longed to show his mettle on the battleground.
Standing side by side, their differences were clearer. He had sharp features, the spitting image of the Fire Lord. She had a particular gentleness to the way she held herself. Perhaps that’s why they chosen to be wed; to even each other out.
I am just as skilled as my older brother. You know I can beat him.
It was a chance meeting in the hallway. The Fire Lord wasn’t known to wander the palace most of the time; he had grown far too old. He saw his younger son coming down the hallway at a hurried pace with gaze directed downwards. The Fire Lord raised an eyebrow and motioned to his son. “I thought you were getting married,” Azulon said in a low tone.
His son barely slowed down. “There ceremony is over,” he muttered under his breath while continuing on. “I am married.”
A singular ‘good’ was the only response.
I am greater than him.
“A son is on the way.”
Ozai turned from the window to his wife, a small smile on his features. Clearly the news pleased him. He grabbed his wife’s soft hands in his large ones. “A son; those healers better be right.”
She simply looked back at him. “I feel it. It’s going to be a son; I do want a daughter,” she replied softly.
“For what, Ursa? Perhaps we’ll have a daughter later but a son as the firstborn, surely that is enough,” Ozai said with a raised eyebrow.
“I want to raise a daughter as much as you want to raise a son, Ozai. I don’t ask you why you want a son; I only ask you do the same for me.”
Of course, Fire Lord Azulon, I know the reason why you came to that solution.
For some, the life of a soldier would be more fitting that one of a father.