Dark Puck
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Below are the 1 most recent journal entries recorded in the "Dark Puck" journal:
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11:25 am
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Dragon of the Mooniverse Scribble
Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Universe: AU; Everyone gets shuffled one forward in the nation cycle. Air Nomads are the aggressors, led by Air Khagan Ozai
Summary: A young doctor from the Fire Nation rides with the Khagan after her capture.
DotM Canon: Probably not, but it's still interesting to write.
Characters: Ozai, Song
There are reasons for his behaviour here; he's not as OOC as you might think
She is so entranced by the view before her that she is unaware of the Air Khagan's proximity until his hand runs over her hair; startled, she turns to see that he is much closer than she likes. The smile that curves his lips isn't friendly, but rather satisfied; this is a man used to getting what he desires.
"Lovely, isn't it?" he asks, and she turns her gaze back to the clouds around them and the ground below. She isn't entirely certain that it is the view he means, but she's glad to seemingly misinterpret for the nonce.
"Yes," she murmurs. His hand, when it brushes against her neck, is cool, cooler than the men of the Fire Nation, than those few of the Earth Kingdom she has treated. She cannot help but shudder as she imagines the deaths that very hand must have wrought, by pen or by deed.
"You seem chilled," he comments now, as his hand returns to the top of her head for another stroke of her hair.
She considers her words for a moment, then carefully replies, "Imperial Majesty, my home is quite humid at this time of year, and it seems the higher we are, the cooler it gets."
To her relief, he makes no offer to keep her warm - and why would he? Such antics are for boys, not men. Instead, he takes his hand from her hair; there is a rustle of cloth and then the Khagan's silk tunic settles around her shoulders. Startled again, she looks up at him a second time. He is no more undressed than he was before giving her the tunic; he still wears an undertunic of pale yellow cotton.
He says nothing, though his smile - no, it is certainly a smirk - deepens, and he runs his hand over her hair once more before returning his attention to driving his bison. Confused, Song draws the burnt orange silk closer around her and resumes watching the horizon.
She later observes that if she steps out of line, or even tries to escape, it's very likely he'll kill her himself. So. Take that as you will.
Current Location: my bed
Current Mood:  creative
Tags: avatar, dragon of the moon, fanfic, scribble
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