Post by Aubrey Pedersen on Feb 27, 2006 19:35:06 GMT -5
A/N: I’m feeling brave today, so you guys get a story in which Ozai isn’t the bad guy, but just a little kid hurt by his father’s neglect and Iroh gets to play big brother. Stupid fascination with brothers…This story actually feels really pointless and plotless, but I felt that it would give a bit of insight into Ozai as I see him so it's all good.
This story functions under my assumption that Iroh is older than Ozai, but for some reason didn’t get the throne. The reason, I’ve decided, is the Agni Kai that Iroh tells Ozai they are going to have…but that’s a different story.
Disclaimer: I suppose I kind of own this characterization of Ozai, but he’s still an Avatar character so not really.
Japanese Translations: I figured that since the Fire nation seems at least loosely based off ancient Japan I could take some creative license and use my favorite Japanese words. Yay!
Ototo: Little brother- what Iroh calls Ozai.
Oniisama: Respectful form of big brother- what Ozai calls Iroh.
Otousan: Respectful form of father.
Arigato: Thank you
Authoress: Reggie
Title:
“Ototo,” Iroh said, pushing open the door to his younger brother’s room and looking around. The light was dim except for some candles that were violently flickering in the meditation corner, and Iroh could hear Ozai’s heavy breathing from somewhere in the darkness. That was probably, he reflected, what was causing the flames to jump and sputter so violently. Without waiting for his younger brother’s permission, the Fire nation prince walked completely into the room. “Ototo, what ever is the matter? One of the servants told me you stormed out of your lesson today. Such a display is unbecoming to a Fire nation prince.”
“Don’t tell me you forgot too!” Golden eyes peered out at Iroh from the corner of the room where his brother’s bed was located. They were swimming with tears, though neither Iroh nor Ozai would have acknowledged it. “Oniisama, tell me you didn’t forget!”
“Of course not,” Iroh said reassuringly, “I would never forget. Remind me, though, what it is I haven’t forgotten.”
“My birthday!” At Ozai’s yell the candle flame’s leapt, startling Iroh enough to make him pull away. Taking a few steps away from the candles, Iroh walked closer to his brother’s bed. When he didn’t react, Iroh took it as an allowance that he come and sit down.
“I didn’t forget your birthday, Ototo,” Iroh said reassuringly, placing a hand on his younger brother’s head. “Your present is in my room. I was waiting to give it to you after your lessons.”
“Otousan forgot,” Ozai mumbled, pulling his small knees up to his chest.
“Maybe he was saving it as a surprise later…”
“No.” Ozai sighed, leaning his forehead against his knees. “He always has a big celebration for you the morning of your birthday, and you are excused from lessons, and pretty much everyone gets to take the day off.”
Iroh had nothing to respond to that, mostly because it was true. As the current crown prince of the Fire Nation his birthday was generally a day of festivals throughout their territories. His last birthday was his sixteenth, since he was nearly ten years older than his younger brother, when he had come of age. The celebration had lasted two days, and though it was six months ago Iroh doubted his brother had forgotten it.
“Otousan,” Ozai said shakily, “doesn’t want me because I’m only a spare.”
“Ototo…”
“It’s true!” A single tear fell from Ozai’s check, landing on his curled up stomach, as the flames in the corner danced high again. “If I were older, Otousan would love me. When I grow up, I’ll never treat my younger children as though they were spares.”
Iroh said nothing, instead placing a comforting hand upon Ozai’s shoulder. “Someday Otousan will see you, and remember how gifted you truly are.”
“When, Oniisama? I am tired of living in the shadows!” Ozai looked at his brother, a few more tears trailing down his face. “I want to prove to him how strong I am!”
Iroh reached out, gently wiping away the tears. Ozai pulled away furiously, hating that they had fallen and been acknowledged by his brother. Iroh sighed, letting his hand fall.
“I’ll tell you what, Ototo. When you turn sixteen, you and I will have an Agni Kai, and Otousan can watch. If you train hard between now and then, you will have your chance to prove to Otousan how strong you are.” Iroh smiled at his brother now, moving a stray black hair out of his own face, “but don’t think I will go easy on you just because you are younger than I am.”
Ozai smiled now, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, “of course not, Oniisama. I want to beat you with my own skill!”
“Well, good, because if you didn’t what would it prove?”
“Nothing.”
“Exactly.” Standing and stretching, Iroh walked over to the door from his brother’s room. “Come on, Ototo. Do you want your present or not?”
“Yes!” Ozai bounced off his bed, sliding quickly into his boots, and ran to catch up to his brother. The two walked down the hall of the palace, barely giving the guards a second glance. Iroh pushed open the door to his room and stepped inside, walking over to his bed and pulling a wrapped package out from underneath.
“I had this made especially for you,” he smiled as he handed it over to his younger brother. “I think you will find it to your taste.”
Eagerly, the six-year-old tore at the paper, allowing it to fall away in shreds. Before long, Ozai found a carefully folded bundle lying in his lap. Picking it up carefully, his eyes grew wide as he looked it over. It was a training uniform made of a breathable fine silk of deep blood red, cut in the style of the royal family. Ozai looked up at his brother, a genuine smile on his face.
“We’re not supposed to have training outfits until we’re ten, Oniisama!”
“Well, if you plan on beating me you had better get started training, hadn’t you? We’ll just keep it our little secret, alright? Besides, they double as very comfortable pajamas.”
Ozai laughed, a rare thing, and his smile widened. “Arigato, Oniisama!”
This story functions under my assumption that Iroh is older than Ozai, but for some reason didn’t get the throne. The reason, I’ve decided, is the Agni Kai that Iroh tells Ozai they are going to have…but that’s a different story.
Disclaimer: I suppose I kind of own this characterization of Ozai, but he’s still an Avatar character so not really.
Japanese Translations: I figured that since the Fire nation seems at least loosely based off ancient Japan I could take some creative license and use my favorite Japanese words. Yay!
Ototo: Little brother- what Iroh calls Ozai.
Oniisama: Respectful form of big brother- what Ozai calls Iroh.
Otousan: Respectful form of father.
Arigato: Thank you
Authoress: Reggie
Title:
“Ototo,” Iroh said, pushing open the door to his younger brother’s room and looking around. The light was dim except for some candles that were violently flickering in the meditation corner, and Iroh could hear Ozai’s heavy breathing from somewhere in the darkness. That was probably, he reflected, what was causing the flames to jump and sputter so violently. Without waiting for his younger brother’s permission, the Fire nation prince walked completely into the room. “Ototo, what ever is the matter? One of the servants told me you stormed out of your lesson today. Such a display is unbecoming to a Fire nation prince.”
“Don’t tell me you forgot too!” Golden eyes peered out at Iroh from the corner of the room where his brother’s bed was located. They were swimming with tears, though neither Iroh nor Ozai would have acknowledged it. “Oniisama, tell me you didn’t forget!”
“Of course not,” Iroh said reassuringly, “I would never forget. Remind me, though, what it is I haven’t forgotten.”
“My birthday!” At Ozai’s yell the candle flame’s leapt, startling Iroh enough to make him pull away. Taking a few steps away from the candles, Iroh walked closer to his brother’s bed. When he didn’t react, Iroh took it as an allowance that he come and sit down.
“I didn’t forget your birthday, Ototo,” Iroh said reassuringly, placing a hand on his younger brother’s head. “Your present is in my room. I was waiting to give it to you after your lessons.”
“Otousan forgot,” Ozai mumbled, pulling his small knees up to his chest.
“Maybe he was saving it as a surprise later…”
“No.” Ozai sighed, leaning his forehead against his knees. “He always has a big celebration for you the morning of your birthday, and you are excused from lessons, and pretty much everyone gets to take the day off.”
Iroh had nothing to respond to that, mostly because it was true. As the current crown prince of the Fire Nation his birthday was generally a day of festivals throughout their territories. His last birthday was his sixteenth, since he was nearly ten years older than his younger brother, when he had come of age. The celebration had lasted two days, and though it was six months ago Iroh doubted his brother had forgotten it.
“Otousan,” Ozai said shakily, “doesn’t want me because I’m only a spare.”
“Ototo…”
“It’s true!” A single tear fell from Ozai’s check, landing on his curled up stomach, as the flames in the corner danced high again. “If I were older, Otousan would love me. When I grow up, I’ll never treat my younger children as though they were spares.”
Iroh said nothing, instead placing a comforting hand upon Ozai’s shoulder. “Someday Otousan will see you, and remember how gifted you truly are.”
“When, Oniisama? I am tired of living in the shadows!” Ozai looked at his brother, a few more tears trailing down his face. “I want to prove to him how strong I am!”
Iroh reached out, gently wiping away the tears. Ozai pulled away furiously, hating that they had fallen and been acknowledged by his brother. Iroh sighed, letting his hand fall.
“I’ll tell you what, Ototo. When you turn sixteen, you and I will have an Agni Kai, and Otousan can watch. If you train hard between now and then, you will have your chance to prove to Otousan how strong you are.” Iroh smiled at his brother now, moving a stray black hair out of his own face, “but don’t think I will go easy on you just because you are younger than I am.”
Ozai smiled now, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, “of course not, Oniisama. I want to beat you with my own skill!”
“Well, good, because if you didn’t what would it prove?”
“Nothing.”
“Exactly.” Standing and stretching, Iroh walked over to the door from his brother’s room. “Come on, Ototo. Do you want your present or not?”
“Yes!” Ozai bounced off his bed, sliding quickly into his boots, and ran to catch up to his brother. The two walked down the hall of the palace, barely giving the guards a second glance. Iroh pushed open the door to his room and stepped inside, walking over to his bed and pulling a wrapped package out from underneath.
“I had this made especially for you,” he smiled as he handed it over to his younger brother. “I think you will find it to your taste.”
Eagerly, the six-year-old tore at the paper, allowing it to fall away in shreds. Before long, Ozai found a carefully folded bundle lying in his lap. Picking it up carefully, his eyes grew wide as he looked it over. It was a training uniform made of a breathable fine silk of deep blood red, cut in the style of the royal family. Ozai looked up at his brother, a genuine smile on his face.
“We’re not supposed to have training outfits until we’re ten, Oniisama!”
“Well, if you plan on beating me you had better get started training, hadn’t you? We’ll just keep it our little secret, alright? Besides, they double as very comfortable pajamas.”
Ozai laughed, a rare thing, and his smile widened. “Arigato, Oniisama!”
