Post by brynna on Apr 13, 2008 14:38:58 GMT -6
Lol...I know you do. (:
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They had to choose carefully, gathering information from every possible place: the market, the palace, the villages, the underground...anywhere to find the perfect girl.
"There are a few prospects, good sir."
A smoky voice replied, slowly and deliberately. "I want them here in four days. Four days, understand?"
"Yes, my lord. Of course."
---
Liro was in a panic. So much is going to go wrong today. And there's nothing I can do about it, he lamented as he finished setting out the fruit for the day.
The whole fiasco had begun with a visit from a cousin two nights before. He and Liro had been boyhood friends, how could he have not noticed Liro was thinking of a girl? His teasing gave Liro's parents plenty cause for suspicion; he had been acting so strangely lately.
Zania wouldn't be setting up until later in the day, perhaps which would be their saving grace.
---
After a small noon meal, she began the daily ritual she hated and loved. White paint over her face, crimson around her eyes, black to line her brows. Zania pinned her hair back into a knot, a single gold pin against the black. Liro had given it to her, a simple ornament of complex meaning.
She fastened the clasps about her wrist to secure the loose fabric and smiled. Tonight he was planning to close early and come to watch her. She donned the dark robe and headed out into the alleyway.
So much is going to go right today!
---
So far, so good.
The observer had watched her stutter and stumble through her afternoon shopping. Plain, innocent, easy to manipulate…she’d be perfect.
She, surely not much older than fifteen, carefully selected a ripe red fruit and stammered her thanks as she paid. He casually walked nearer to her, to gather that last look at her features before approaching her.
He muttered a few choice curses; another man had woven his way to her and kissed her on the cheek before taking her basket.
Married.
He sighed and joined the line for the fruit stand to mask anything suspicious he might had done. The seller seemed distracted, alternately stealing nervous glances across the square and at the elderly couple sitting in the shade behind his stand. With a soft chuckle, he paid for his snack and left to find a quiet place to watch.
---
Ozai trained harder than before. Day and night he trained, pushing himself past pain and exhaustion. Today, her face alone filled his eyes, for the sweat no longer seemed to exist. With each renewed attack on the training dummies, he murmured her name.
He no longer knew his goal. Was it her? Vengeance? Relief?
A teacher called out, asking him to stop. He didn’t care. He kept on.
The heat of the sun joined the fire of his own creation. It bore upon him, but he would not relent. Attack.
Again.
Again.
Again.
His body gave in and collapsed. He lay on the ground, still lashing out at imagined opponents. “Ursa, Ursa,” he whispered into their ears. “I fight for Ursa.”
One last thought coursed his mind as Ozai fell into unconsciousness.
If my heart could stop…this pain would not be here.
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Her eyes flashed impatiently as she set another dance to the small tambourine in her hand. Sunset had already begun and Liro was still at his stand, without a single customer. There were two older people, a man and a woman, sitting back behind the wooden table.
But what should that have to do with anything? He promised he'd be watching by mid afternoon, that he wouldn't be late. Why would he break his promise to me?
A few men in the crowd jumped back as the small ring of fire sparked angrily.
---
The observer silently joined the throng of men around the girl. She was beautiful, for what he could tell with the makeup and outfit. Those things were there to make her attractive; nobody could really know what she looked like. Crossing his arms, he threw a quiet question to the crowd: "What's the girl's name?"
Several looked at him like had asked the identity of the Fire Lord. One man spoke gruffly, never taking his eyes off the dancer, "Zania."
She was a good dancer and knew how to make his job difficult. He had trouble keeping his eyes studying her face. She was angry. And by the looks she kept giving the fruit stand across the way, she was angry with the nervous fruit seller.
---
Liro shifted. Zania had lowered her fire ring for a break. He could see it in her shoulders, how set they were, pulled back, chin up, eyes blazing. He glanced back to his parents behind him. Oh, sh-
A man had come up to the stand and ordered. She stood behind him in line. Liro felt rather than saw her fingers drumming on her folded arms.
The man left the stand with his purchase and Liro faced her.
"Ma'am? How...how can I help you?"
He prayed that Zania would see his parents and understand. But, alas. Her eyes had locked into his.
"You can start by making promises you'll keep."
"Zan--" He swallowed and looked back at his mother's keen stare. "Madam, I don't b-believe I know what you're, um, you're talking about."
Zania's eyes darkened. She had caught that glance."I'm sure you don't, Master Farmer."
---
She gave him one last look, hurt and angry, before turning away so that he wouldn't see the tears beginning to form. She walked straight home, her aching heart distracting her from the man following at a distance.
Once in her house, she pulled the hairpin out of her hair, her tears now coming as angry sobs. Zania began to yell at the ornament in her hand.
"What, I wasn't good enough for you? Not good enough to bring home to Mother...just some little mistress to keep on the side, your own personal plaything, worthless and disposable." She threw it against the wall. "Well, I don't care. You mean nothing to me, hear me? NOTHING!"
She collapsed on the floor, her anger pouring through her tears.
A knock at the door.
Zania looked up to see the ornament, broken in half, laying across the room.
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Chapter 12: Observe
They had to choose carefully, gathering information from every possible place: the market, the palace, the villages, the underground...anywhere to find the perfect girl.
"There are a few prospects, good sir."
A smoky voice replied, slowly and deliberately. "I want them here in four days. Four days, understand?"
"Yes, my lord. Of course."
---
Liro was in a panic. So much is going to go wrong today. And there's nothing I can do about it, he lamented as he finished setting out the fruit for the day.
The whole fiasco had begun with a visit from a cousin two nights before. He and Liro had been boyhood friends, how could he have not noticed Liro was thinking of a girl? His teasing gave Liro's parents plenty cause for suspicion; he had been acting so strangely lately.
Zania wouldn't be setting up until later in the day, perhaps which would be their saving grace.
---
After a small noon meal, she began the daily ritual she hated and loved. White paint over her face, crimson around her eyes, black to line her brows. Zania pinned her hair back into a knot, a single gold pin against the black. Liro had given it to her, a simple ornament of complex meaning.
She fastened the clasps about her wrist to secure the loose fabric and smiled. Tonight he was planning to close early and come to watch her. She donned the dark robe and headed out into the alleyway.
So much is going to go right today!
---
So far, so good.
The observer had watched her stutter and stumble through her afternoon shopping. Plain, innocent, easy to manipulate…she’d be perfect.
She, surely not much older than fifteen, carefully selected a ripe red fruit and stammered her thanks as she paid. He casually walked nearer to her, to gather that last look at her features before approaching her.
He muttered a few choice curses; another man had woven his way to her and kissed her on the cheek before taking her basket.
Married.
He sighed and joined the line for the fruit stand to mask anything suspicious he might had done. The seller seemed distracted, alternately stealing nervous glances across the square and at the elderly couple sitting in the shade behind his stand. With a soft chuckle, he paid for his snack and left to find a quiet place to watch.
---
Ozai trained harder than before. Day and night he trained, pushing himself past pain and exhaustion. Today, her face alone filled his eyes, for the sweat no longer seemed to exist. With each renewed attack on the training dummies, he murmured her name.
He no longer knew his goal. Was it her? Vengeance? Relief?
A teacher called out, asking him to stop. He didn’t care. He kept on.
The heat of the sun joined the fire of his own creation. It bore upon him, but he would not relent. Attack.
Again.
Again.
Again.
His body gave in and collapsed. He lay on the ground, still lashing out at imagined opponents. “Ursa, Ursa,” he whispered into their ears. “I fight for Ursa.”
One last thought coursed his mind as Ozai fell into unconsciousness.
If my heart could stop…this pain would not be here.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 13: Fragile
Her eyes flashed impatiently as she set another dance to the small tambourine in her hand. Sunset had already begun and Liro was still at his stand, without a single customer. There were two older people, a man and a woman, sitting back behind the wooden table.
But what should that have to do with anything? He promised he'd be watching by mid afternoon, that he wouldn't be late. Why would he break his promise to me?
A few men in the crowd jumped back as the small ring of fire sparked angrily.
---
The observer silently joined the throng of men around the girl. She was beautiful, for what he could tell with the makeup and outfit. Those things were there to make her attractive; nobody could really know what she looked like. Crossing his arms, he threw a quiet question to the crowd: "What's the girl's name?"
Several looked at him like had asked the identity of the Fire Lord. One man spoke gruffly, never taking his eyes off the dancer, "Zania."
She was a good dancer and knew how to make his job difficult. He had trouble keeping his eyes studying her face. She was angry. And by the looks she kept giving the fruit stand across the way, she was angry with the nervous fruit seller.
---
Liro shifted. Zania had lowered her fire ring for a break. He could see it in her shoulders, how set they were, pulled back, chin up, eyes blazing. He glanced back to his parents behind him. Oh, sh-
A man had come up to the stand and ordered. She stood behind him in line. Liro felt rather than saw her fingers drumming on her folded arms.
The man left the stand with his purchase and Liro faced her.
"Ma'am? How...how can I help you?"
He prayed that Zania would see his parents and understand. But, alas. Her eyes had locked into his.
"You can start by making promises you'll keep."
"Zan--" He swallowed and looked back at his mother's keen stare. "Madam, I don't b-believe I know what you're, um, you're talking about."
Zania's eyes darkened. She had caught that glance."I'm sure you don't, Master Farmer."
---
She gave him one last look, hurt and angry, before turning away so that he wouldn't see the tears beginning to form. She walked straight home, her aching heart distracting her from the man following at a distance.
Once in her house, she pulled the hairpin out of her hair, her tears now coming as angry sobs. Zania began to yell at the ornament in her hand.
"What, I wasn't good enough for you? Not good enough to bring home to Mother...just some little mistress to keep on the side, your own personal plaything, worthless and disposable." She threw it against the wall. "Well, I don't care. You mean nothing to me, hear me? NOTHING!"
She collapsed on the floor, her anger pouring through her tears.
A knock at the door.
Zania looked up to see the ornament, broken in half, laying across the room.
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