Continued from Zhao: Wedded and bedded (AU of Sun Child) (http://attackfish.livejournal.com/53604.html?thread=250724#t250724)
“I told you not to interrupt me when I’m training!” Zura roared, lobbing a fireball to the side instead of at the prim servant her husband had assigned to her.
“My Lady.” Zura needed to stop flinching at that. So she had been demoted. So she didn’t even know her father could do that- She cut herself off. “There’s a messenger here from your husband, I put him in the garden.”
“I guess anything he has to say to me is more important than anything I possibly could be doing,” she spat bitterly.
(“Spirits, girl, it’s not like it’s your first time, stop flinching.”)
“I wouldn’t know, My Lady.” The woman looked her up and down, eyes narrowing. “Are you going to speak to him right away, or would you like a few minutes to make yourself more presentable?” Her voice dripped with disapproval.
Zura wiped the sweat out of her eyes and glanced down at the way her training clothes fell loosely around the dome of her belly. “No,” she returned the servant’s glare. “I’ll see him just the way I am.”
(“You’re an ugly thing, aren’t you? I thought I was marrying a girl, not an ostrich-horse.”)
Her footsteps pounded dully on the corridor floors, and the tropical sunlight, when she stepped into it, brushed her face like fingertips. The young man, standing stiffly in his armor clasped his hands and bowed to her. When he looked up, his face faded to even grayer than before. Behind them, the servant moved into the shadows, watching. Zura folded her arms. “My husband sent word?”
“N-no,” he stuttered, unable to take his eyes off her rounded belly.
“Then why are you here?”
“Princess, I mean, My lady...” he babbled. Her jaw clenched.
“Yes?” she prompted.
“I have word from...” he trailed off. “I’m sorry, My Lady, your husband’s dead.”
Zura went numb. “H-how?”
The soldier spoke to his feet. “In battle, at the north pole.”
“Thank you,” she mumbled.
“I know this is a terrible time for this to happen with the baby on the way and all... Not that there’s ever a good time, I mean, but...” Zura stared at him, mystified. “I’ll just go now.”
As he followed one of the servants away, Zura pivoted on her heel and marched back into the house, trying to unstick her mind.
“My Lady, where are you going?” the prim woman called after her. The words fell flat in the still, humid air.
“I’m going to see my daughter,” she snarled. “Is that okay with you?”
She pushed her way through the nursery doors when she reached them, and for a moment, her daughter’s nurse just blinked at her in shock, until Zura ran to the cradle and lifted Lan Min out. Giggling, Lan Min grabbed for her mother’s hair.
“I’m going to be watching Lan Min for the rest of the day,” she muttered, pulling her daughter close to her chest. Lan Min burbled, and her mother cooed back, her heart still hammering.
(“I thought when I married you, I’d at least get a girl who had some idea about about what she was supposed to do in bed!”)
The office stood on the other side of the house. Zura shoved the door open, writing a letter to her uncle in her mind. The walk across the office floor seemed longer than the whole rest of the house.
Kneeling down on a cushion in front of the low writing table, Zura rubbed her scalp, expecting it to be smooth like it always used to be, but there was fuzz growing up around her top-knot, and soon some of it was going to be long enough to stick into the wrappings with it.
(“If you ever disgrace me, you’ll lose a lot more than just your hair.)
Lan Min pulled herself up on the table leg and stumbled to another, and then back to her mother.
Zura spread out the paper and weighted down the edges. The inkwell unscrewed with a snick and the brush sent ripples of ink to its walls. Zura looked down at the blank sheet of paper. The brush fell from her fingers and she just stared.
Outside in the hall, Zura could hear rustling and footsteps, and her eyes snapped away from the paper. “My Lady, that’s the Admiral’s office!” the servant began explaining before the door was all the way open. “You’re not supposed to be-”
“It’s my office now!” she yelled, picking up the brush.
Bonus: AU of “Sun Child”, Zura’s pregnant with Zhao’s child
“I told you not to interrupt me when I’m training!” Zura roared, lobbing a fireball to the side instead of at the prim servant her husband had assigned to her.
“My Lady.” Zura needed to stop flinching at that. So she had been demoted. So she didn’t even know her father could do that- She cut herself off. “There’s a messenger here from your husband, I put him in the garden.”
“I guess anything he has to say to me is more important than anything I possibly could be doing,” she spat bitterly.
(“Spirits, girl, it’s not like it’s your first time, stop flinching.”)
“I wouldn’t know, My Lady.” The woman looked her up and down, eyes narrowing. “Are you going to speak to him right away, or would you like a few minutes to make yourself more presentable?” Her voice dripped with disapproval.
Zura wiped the sweat out of her eyes and glanced down at the way her training clothes fell loosely around the dome of her belly. “No,” she returned the servant’s glare. “I’ll see him just the way I am.”
(“You’re an ugly thing, aren’t you? I thought I was marrying a girl, not an ostrich-horse.”)
Her footsteps pounded dully on the corridor floors, and the tropical sunlight, when she stepped into it, brushed her face like fingertips. The young man, standing stiffly in his armor clasped his hands and bowed to her. When he looked up, his face faded to even grayer than before. Behind them, the servant moved into the shadows, watching. Zura folded her arms. “My husband sent word?”
“N-no,” he stuttered, unable to take his eyes off her rounded belly.
“Then why are you here?”
“Princess, I mean, My lady...” he babbled. Her jaw clenched.
“Yes?” she prompted.
“I have word from...” he trailed off. “I’m sorry, My Lady, your husband’s dead.”
Zura went numb. “H-how?”
The soldier spoke to his feet. “In battle, at the north pole.”
“Thank you,” she mumbled.
“I know this is a terrible time for this to happen with the baby on the way and all... Not that there’s ever a good time, I mean, but...” Zura stared at him, mystified. “I’ll just go now.”
As he followed one of the servants away, Zura pivoted on her heel and marched back into the house, trying to unstick her mind.
“My Lady, where are you going?” the prim woman called after her. The words fell flat in the still, humid air.
“I’m going to see my daughter,” she snarled. “Is that okay with you?”
She pushed her way through the nursery doors when she reached them, and for a moment, her daughter’s nurse just blinked at her in shock, until Zura ran to the cradle and lifted Lan Min out. Giggling, Lan Min grabbed for her mother’s hair.
“I’m going to be watching Lan Min for the rest of the day,” she muttered, pulling her daughter close to her chest. Lan Min burbled, and her mother cooed back, her heart still hammering.
(“I thought when I married you, I’d at least get a girl who had some idea about about what she was supposed to do in bed!”)
The office stood on the other side of the house. Zura shoved the door open, writing a letter to her uncle in her mind. The walk across the office floor seemed longer than the whole rest of the house.
Kneeling down on a cushion in front of the low writing table, Zura rubbed her scalp, expecting it to be smooth like it always used to be, but there was fuzz growing up around her top-knot, and soon some of it was going to be long enough to stick into the wrappings with it.
(“If you ever disgrace me, you’ll lose a lot more than just your hair.)
Lan Min pulled herself up on the table leg and stumbled to another, and then back to her mother.
Zura spread out the paper and weighted down the edges. The inkwell unscrewed with a snick and the brush sent ripples of ink to its walls. Zura looked down at the blank sheet of paper. The brush fell from her fingers and she just stared.
Outside in the hall, Zura could hear rustling and footsteps, and her eyes snapped away from the paper. “My Lady, that’s the Admiral’s office!” the servant began explaining before the door was all the way open. “You’re not supposed to be-”
“It’s my office now!” she yelled, picking up the brush.
Lan Min started to cry.