HULLO, PEOPLES! So, I wrote this as a gift for my friend Kiki, who said that there weren't enough Ozai/Ursa fanfics out there, especially ones that involved, ahem...um...just look at the M rating and you'll know. O_O Anyway, please know this is my VERY FIRST LEMON EVER. So, yeah. Also, I'd like to thank Crazy4WritingB2! Your review really brightened my day! :D So, I hope you all enjoy this, and I will see you at the bottom. (walks away)
Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar. I also do not own the picture acting as the cover for this fanfiction. All respective royalties go to the copyright owners
Emptiness
She was circled as if they were a pack of ravenous polar-bear-wolves who had not feasted in days, howling dibs on what to do with her and how it should be done. Only, these weren't polar bear-wolves-but good Agni she wished they were-these were her servants and mother. Their smiles were large and proud, eyes gleaming at verge of tears, as if they were the ones who had just gotten married, not her. As if they were now officially royalty.
Puffs of powder caused her lungs to tighten, the overdose of perfume stinging her nose, and her eyes watering as they added more layers of makeup, unsatisfied. They wanted to hit perfection, to make her look like the "goddess Agni on a summer afternoon". But if that meant wearing more makeup than a clown she would have rather appear like a lowly peasant. But that wasn't an option, not anymore. Because now she had a position of power, and her family were determined to make the most of it. Even if it meant turning her into their own personal doll.
Zeeva, one of the maids, recoiled her hands and stared intently at her mistress's sour face, either due with disgust at the progress or confused why she was so stiff. She tapped her jaw with a pale finger, debating. She beamed when a thought entered her mind and she lunged toward the vanity where several foul scented perfumes and a large amount of makeup sat, waiting to be used for beauty or torture. Ursa grimaced, biting hard on her tongue to keep from groaning and protesting as she felt her mother tugging at her already smooth as silk midnight tresses. The servants giggled and gossiped, glowing like the sun when they peered over to the large window of her not-so-private chambers.
Zeeva rushed over, Ki trailing behind. They exchanged looks and whisper-giggled about the royal ship coming into harbor that would take the newly married couple to their destination.
The maids clapped their hands in excitement, clouds of blush erupting in the air.
Honestly, they discussed the matter as if she weren't even there, as if they had forgotten who they were decorating. Well, she didn't doubt that; with all the makeup she was wearing she doubted anyone would recognize her. Even her own mother seemed to forget, for she was rambling on about how brilliant it was that her daughter had entered the royal life, how she would give her family a good name, a position.
The brush tugged and tugged, causing knots rather than getting rid of them. Zeeva lifted a pair of shoes from off the ground and presented them to her mother, who nodded approvingly while her daughter felt her grimace turning into a scowl. She despised those shoes-the scarlet red with gold and orange beading. Although, she had to admit, it was very pretty on the outside, it was most irritating on the inside.
She bit her cheeks to keep from groaning or commenting. Her mother, setting the brush down, turned to the maid servants and started to gush about the excitement of having her only daughter enter a high position in life (for what seemed like the umpteenth time), one most people could only dream of: the wife of the Fire Prince. Like most girls, Ursa had sometimes thought about the concept, especially in her younger years. But it never went to her head. Because, seriously, how could a girl of her class possibly be blessed in such a situation? It seemed unlikely, considering the feud between the two families. Her grandmother would often burst into fiery rage whenever the very names of the royals were mentioned in her presence. She claimed it was because of Fire Lord Sozin her dearly beloved husband died before his time. The reason why there was a war. It was talk like that had ruined the family name for nearly two years.
After her grandmother's death, her father made nice with Fire Lord Azulon when he had his only son join the army, and die an honorable death.
And since then, the Royal Family and her own had been on, more or less, good terms with one another. Meaning that her family was no longer dishonored, rather accepted. Ursa had been disgusted with her parents' glee when they received a letter from Azulon himself, stating his condolences for the loss of their son. It made her sick-lava burning in the pit of her stomach. Her parents had shipped him out far too young and inexperienced-at the age of fifteen-and chose to ignore that the troop he was in was sent to the front row in early stages of their training. But, it had been said by surviving soldiers, that he took out, surprisingly, more than a dozen Earth Kingdom soldiers, even saving the life of his fellow men. While she did feel a certain degree of pride, she could not forget the act her parents had done, purposely risking their only son's life just to get on good standards with the Fire Lord. If there was any regret before, there certainly wasn't any now. For that act had caused a marriage, uniting the two families together as one, with none other than the second born, Prince Ozai.
Zeeva spritzed amber scented perfume on her neck, awakening her from her thoughts.
Her mother leaned in and sniffed, wrinkling her nose. "Oh, that won't do!" she waved her hand, standing tall and proud, as if she were queen. "Get the other kind, Zeeva."
The maid servant nodded her head. "Yes, ma'am," she said, and then grabbed a different bottle.
"Mother, seriously," Ursa said, heat rushing up her neck. Her cheeks turned a rosy hue, and reached up to her eyes, giving them an illuminating glow. "Amber is fine, Zeeva," she assured the servant kindly, offering a small, strained smile.
Her mother scowled. "No," she said firmly. "I shall NOT have my daughter smelling like some farm-girl. Zeeva, get the other brand, the one that Fire Lady Ilah wore for the last ball..."
Ursa sighed, leaning back against her chair.
"Ursa, darling, don't slouch," her mother scolded, her eyes sharp and urgent. "It's unladylike! What shall your husband think of you?"
Husband...
She didn't fire back, knowing her mother would just persist on the finest for her darling daughter. The finest jewels, the finest makeup, the finest gowns...She had to appear as ladylike and beautiful as possible, to show that she was not just another girl, that she was royalty. She was, after all, Princess Ursa now. Well, the title wasn't technically official yet. Zeeva had explained how the whole process worked earlier in the day, while she was dressing her for the wedding.
"While your marriage puts you on high standards with the court, I'm afraid the title won't be completely official until your marriage is. You won't get the title until you are completely and utterly his-tonight."
Those words had caused her cheeks to turn as red as the sun. Tonight. She felt a familiar chill ripple down her spine, goose bumps brushing against her arm.
The honeymoon, she had been informed, was to take place on Ember Island. She was thankful for that-since Ember Island was her home. Well, it had been until three months ago, when her life took a drastic turn, that would lead her down an unfamiliar road full of bumps and turns, but eventually to bliss. Or at least that was what Ki said. In those months, she had felt empty inside. Her opinion didn't matter. Her days were filled with training, planning, and preparations for what she would endure as a royal, specifically a princess. From what she had learned, her position would be simple enough: to be seen and not heard.
It was simple because it was what she had been taught her whole life. Granted, there were things that had to be done, such as attending balls, going to afternoon get-togethers with ladies of high class, supplying children... The concept of children was considered very important amongst the women who have prepared her, but Ursa saw no need to be concerned. After all, Prince Iroh already had a son, and a young, healthy wife. So why bother over something like that? But it was still a pressing matter.
All of the lessons eventually became the same process over and over, always dreadfully dull and, in her personal opinion (not that it was valued), a waste of time. But, for her family's sake, she listened (or tried to), and tried to perfect herself as best as she could. But considering the fact she was stubborn, a klutz, and a daydreamer, it was a hard and difficult process. But she managed to get through the hard three months-and once they deemed her ready, she was dressed up like a doll and placed in front of the minister, beside her now husband. The veil kept her from seeing his face, and as customary, was not permitted to lift it up or peek until they were onboard the vessel. So the absurd amount of makeup had been pointless.
Ki grabbed what looked to be eyeliner and started brushing it against her lids, giggling to a maid working on her nails about the sheer excitement of the day's events, and how it dawned a new age for the royal family. Ursa's jaw clenched, her stomach churning. Couldn't they just be silent for one second? Couldn't she just be alone with her thoughts without the constant jittering and giggles about her marriage? Not three hours had passed since then, and already she wanted to scream until all her inner paranoia and restlessness was gone. But, like the perfect daughter and new royal she was, she remained peacefully silent, her expression steady and calm.
Sighing she lifted her left ankle and studied it for a moment, seeing a faint scar. One could barely see it, but in the right light it became visible. Lowering her gaze, she remembered that night. Her parents had fallen into an excited frenzy, for the family had been invited to the Fire Lord's party. She had been strapped into a uncomfortable dress that showed off enough of her curves without being called a slut. Her shoes were tight to give the appearance of petite feet. Her nails had been filed. Her hair draped down her back. Her body scented with amber body oil. She had felt like a doll-to be dressed up and then showed off.
Her parents had walked up to every young man her age and up, introducing her. Slowly moving toward the age of eighteen, the young girl had yet to find herself a husband, and considering most girls were already married at fifteen, it had to be made quick. She was three years overdue, and her parents feared her expiration date was coming, but she didn't care. As far as she was concerned, physical appearance wasn't the only key to find a husband. Not that she wanted one.
In each conversation she had with said gentleman, she would do or say something that would be found awkward. She had discussed the matter of women being forbidden to become guards and warriors, how she felt it was incredibly ludicrous for the Fire Lord to send new troops to the front, and so on. Her parents had glared fiercely at her, but she chose to ignore it. If her parents were thinking about matching her up, then the man had to know who she was, not just some shiny new toy ready to be played with. Eventually, she had managed to slip away from them.
She had winced in pain as the shoes rubbed against her heel, digging and grating against her skin. It became almost unbearable, and she felt some sort of hot liquid running down. She stared down at the white fabric and gasped, seeing a red stain. It was small, but visible. Horrified, she accidentally bumped into a gentleman talking to another man with sideburns.
He turned around, completely startled.
She didn't meet his eyes; she just excused herself and ran as fast as she could out of the ballroom, despite the glares she earned from some of the guests. She didn't stop until she reached a small garden where a sakura tree stood over a small pond, where a Turtleduck and her ducklings were swimming. She had known it was incredibly rude to just enter the garden without permission, but her ankles were just burning in pain. She sat down, removed her shoes, and saw a cut. It wasn't deep, but it was just enough to draw blood. The shoes, now stained and useless, were tossed aside with a satisfied sigh.
To relieve the pain, she had placed her delicate feet in the water, relishing the cool feel it had on her skin. And without warning, she had cried. She felt empty and alone in her life, nothing more than a decoration, an item. Upon seeing her reflection in the water, it was not Ursa she saw, but rather someone else. Angrily, she had removed her feet and splashed water on her face, removing the makeup. She glared back at her reflection, loathing herself. And then the gentleman she had bumped into showed up.
It was Prince Ozai.
Upon seeing her frantic state in the ballroom, he had felt concerned and went after her to see if she was alright. She felt angry. Surely that wasn't the case at all-she was a beautiful woman who had run out. Any man would have followed. Uncaring that her face was a mess, her eyes red, and shoeless, she just looked away disrespectfully, refusing to meet his eyes or even regard his presence. He wasn't mad, though...he was intrigued. He sat beside her, just watching the stars. He asked her why she left, and she replied, "I didn't want to be seen as a prop." He smiled at her, claimed he felt the same, and that was how it all began.
A proposal followed a month later, after spending time together in her family's stay in the Capitol.
Zeeva bowed her head. "Milady," she said, "you are ready."
Ursa, sighing, turned her head and stared at her reflection with a vacant expression. Like at the ball, she didn't see herself. Her face was covered with makeup, her raven hair tied up with sticks. The white and red dress she would wear onto the ship wasn't so bed, except for the itchiness. The dragon pattern on the skirt was lovely. It held a certain humbleness about it, and she felt surprised her mother had chosen it. But what the dress lacked in style was made up for in the chunky jewelry. A ruby necklace, matching earrings, a ring, a gold bracelet...she felt weighed down, and felt if she would accidentally fall overboard she would sink like a rock.
"Oh, lovely!" her mother cooed in delight. "You are a sight to behold!"
Ki wrinkled her nose, disgusted by the finished product, but dared not say anything that would upset her mistress and her mother. Instead, she busied herself to organizing the makeup and perfume on the vanity while Zeeva hurried the other maids out, her voice laced with pride. She looked over her shoulder and smiled once they were gone. "You look beautiful, milady," she said, adjusting the veil so that it fell over her face, thankfully hiding the hideous design.
Ursa could only nod her thanks, afraid her voice would betray her.
"Oh, Agni!" her mother cursed, peering out the window. "Zeeva, Ki, quickly now! It is time to board! Hurry it up!"
Ursa stood up, the shoes already pinching her toes and heels, but chose to ignore it. The two maids trailed behind her as her mother led the way through the door and out the hallway. It was just as vacant and empty as she felt, for all the real ruckus and excitement would be out in the streets, the docks, and just beyond the door. She idly wondered what was going through her husband's head, whether he was feeling the same way she was. It seemed unlikely, since he was so full of confidence and pride.
He was most likely ready and prepared, chest puffed out, with a fiery glint in his eyes. A new thought entered her mind: what was she to do once she did get downstairs? Yes, she was supposed to ride with him through the streets in those riding things-whatever they were called, to the docks and then board the ship...but then what? What would she say to him?
It is one thing to speak to someone as friends with romantic potential, it was quite another as man and wife. Especially since they had been separated an hour after they had said their vows to prepare for their voyage and honeymoon.
"The luggage is already on the ship," Zeeva said, scurrying to keep up.
"Good," Ursa's mother said, straightening her daughter's dress. "Remember, be the good princess you were trained to be."
She could only nod.
They stopped at the end of the corridor, where a large door stood in their way. Without hesitation, her mother opened it wide, and stepped aside.
What happened next was a blur. She was quickly shoved into the thing, her mother flashing her a look of warning before the curtain closed. No turning back, she thought, gulping down all the paranoia and worry. She turned her head and saw that Ozai was seated beside her. He appeared to be a meditative state, eyes closed, legs crossed, hands folded. He didn't turn his head, even when he heard her sigh. Taking advantage of his temporary ignorance to her appearance, she grabbed the nearest fabric, lifted her veil, and smothered it across her face, wiping hard. She heard him shift and she dropped the fabric down, adjusting the veil back to its former glory.
He opened his eyes and looked at her with a serious gaze. The curtains shifted slightly when their ride jerked up and started moving. He lifted his hand and reached for her. Instinctively, she winced away, heat rushing up her neck and into her face. She mentally kicked herself. She had to relax. She was, after all, with her husband, not some strange man who was attempting to attract her. It was a habit she needed to get rid of, and quickly.
He pulled his hand away, startled by her act, but his golden eyes were understanding. He tried again, this time slowly. She didn't move, trying to calm herself down as her heartbeat accelerated. He placed his hand on her cheek. Through the fabric, she could feel the heat of his palm, and leaned into it. It was comforting, melting the ice that froze her insides. She sighed softly, not in exasperation, annoyance, or sadness like before, but in...pleasure.
Never in her life had she received a loving gesture such as that. It made her feel more than just a doll, vacant and lifeless...it made her feel...alive...
"This will the awkward part," he said, his voice just as sheepish as she felt. "Once we get passed the docks things will hopefully quiet down."
Ursa bit her lower lip. "What about when we get to the island?" she asked timidly, her voice small and meek.
He thumb-rubbed her cheek, and then lowered her hand. She frowned, disappointed. "My family has a private beach, so all will be well."
Private. She smiled nervously, her insides churning and twitching inside of her.
The rest of the ride was pretty much silent amongst them, minus the cheering people as they made their way through the streets, and she could only pray to Agni that it would be quick and short. The sooner she was away from the public, the sooner she could calm herself down. But that presented another dilemma she was attempting to get across: the subject of being alone with her husband. Surely all brides felt this way, afraid, before their wedding night. Well, earlier in the day, she had confessed her worries to Zeeva, who was married with two children. She had said that the feeling was normal enough, but she would get passed it once it began.
Unlike some of her naughty cousins and maid-servants, Ursa was a virgin, and unfamiliar with the events of sex. Yes, she had been told about it, read about it, and all that. But the experience would be different, almost alien to her. But she had been assured countless times before it would be a breathtaking event, but it would hurt the first time.
She almost gasped abruptly.
What if Ozai...wasn't a virgin?
It was common for royals to take on mistresses and whores, but the thought still troubled her. She eyed Ozai through her veil, wondering if he was just as innocent as she was. She scoffed silently. No, Ozai was strong, handsome, and a prince...there was no way that a man of this type could be innocent.
But she was far too shy and self-conscious to ask anything on the subject. Besides, he wouldn't probably tell her the truth, and there was no way to tell if he was lying or not, since he had been gifted with a silver-tongue. She had seen it in action many times in their relationship, and it was quite effective. Maybe it was the silkiness of his voice that made people believe every word he said, or perhaps the devilish glint in his dragon eyes and rugged good looks. Either way, it worked like a charm. She could only hope he wouldn't use his gift of persuasion on her during their marriage.
They stopped, and the curtains were drawn back. Guards kept the proud people of the Fire Nation at a safe distance as they cheered happily for the newlyweds. Azulon stood by the ship, whispering something to the captain, who appeared to be both frightened and excited to be in the Fire Lord's presence. The ship was fairly large, with some sort of animal strapped to it. She breathed a sigh of relief, glad that they wouldn't have to board one of those large metal ships she had seen before, but rather one she was familiar and comfortable with. She climbed out, scanning the faces of the crowd.
Fire Lady Ilah was next to her husband, her expression unreadable. Iroh stood close by to Azulon, with his wife, Jasmine, beside him, holding their young child Lu Tin in her arms. Their smiles were as warm as a fire during a winter's night, their eyes crackling with joy at the sight of the couple. Ozai nodded his head once to regard his brother. Ursa felt her chest tighten, her eyes stinging with tears that were threatening to break forth. She longed to see her brother amongst the faces in the crowd, to see his smiling eyes, for him to keep her from the razor's edge as her world spiraled out of her control. But he wasn't there. No, he was someplace (hopefully) better. And that thought made her smile.
As tradition, Azulon blessed the couple, wished them a safe voyage, asked Agni to look down upon their relationship with glowing sunlight, for them to give birth to Firebenders...the speech went on abnormally long, and she couldn't help but roll her eyes on occasion and zone out during the particularly boring parts, such as when he was endlessly droning on and on about the value of carrying on the royal bloodline. Honestly, they haven't been married a day yet, and the concept of children is already the number one priority? She could tell Ozai was getting uncomfortable; by the way he shifted from one foot to the other, and the low flush filling his white cheeks.
Thank Agni, he finally finished his speech with words in a foreign language, waved his hand, and Firebenders launched some sort of substance in the air, using their bending to create fireworks. Everyone applauded. Ursa blushed from the attention, having been so used to being invisible most of her life. She saw the smiling face of her mother, and felt thankful the veil hid her expression, which consisted of a clenched jaw and narrowed eyes.
Ozai, taking her hand, led her up, leaving everything else behind. Eyes closed, she braced herself for everything that would happen...and the beginning of her new life.
o
Ozai had been incorrect when he said that the awkwardness would be over with and done by the time they got onto the ship. He had been quite inaccurate with that notion. In truth, things were only starting to get worse.
Instead of receiving privacy like she had expected, servants followed them about everywhere, keeping the newlyweds at least two feet apart. They insisted that Ursa stay out of the sun, at fear of damaging her lovely skin, and had shoved her into the shadows while the others tended to Ozai's needs. This was entirely confusing. When she had asked Jasmine about just how much privacy they would have on the boat, she had simply replied that she and Iroh were left alone pretty much the whole way. Perhaps this was because he was the oldest and heir...? It didn't make sense, but maybe it was customary in the world of royalty. She didn't question it, she just sat in the shade, fanning herself from the humidity. Occasionally, Ozai and she would exchange brief looks. Thank Agni, she had managed to persuade the servants to let her take the veil off, claiming it was incredibly hot and suffocating, so they could finally get clear views of each other. They would smile; sometimes roll their eyes in exasperation.
But at one point, a whole new look flashed across his amber eyes. While his face was casual and calm, something that resembled passion quickly passed through, electrifying her body and leaving goosebumps along her arms. Shyly, she had hid behind her fan, pretending to be listening to a light conversation between two maids.
The rest of the voyage went by fairly quickly, and in a matter of hours they arrived at Ember Island.
Much to her relief, they were not met by a flaming crowd, but rather the sound of thunder somewhere in the distance. The maids exchanged fearful glances, which did not go unnoticed by their mistress, who asked them what was wrong. They pretended to ignore her, fondling about with assisting the crewmen with the luggage despite the fact it wasn't in their position to do so. It made her insides tingle.
By the time they reached the house, the sky had turned grey and the threat of rain lingered in the air. Ursa couldn't help but smile; it had always been a comfort to her, the rain. The way it felt running down her cheek, like a caress from a lover. The sweet aroma after the storm. The games she would play with her friends as they ran down to the beach as children, watching as the tide moved quicker and harder, bringing forth items that were of interest; seashells, starfish, even slimy seaweed.
When she felt the first tap on her head, she looked up, secretly smiling to herself.
She was gently pushed into the house. Her eyes widened.
The wooden floors and walls were smooth to the touch, the aroma of cinders in the air, and the feeling of home. It held a certain coziness that was a stranger to her, but also had a secretive nature to it, like meeting the Painted Lady. Charmed, she moved further inside, uncaring that the slippers were starting to dig into her flesh, and examined the finery for it all as she climbed up the steps. On a long table in the hall, there was a vase with dead sakuras inside, their petals coiled over and withered, a few lying on the table that held the same smoothness as the walls. There was a row of rocks of different shapes and sizes. One was a tangy orange that resembled a dragon's head, one was clear white and resembled a fish, with a little black spot in the center, and all the others were different and unique in their own way. Above the table, hanging on the wall, there was a family portrait. Azulon's face was, of course, stiff and lifeless, while Ilah's held some sort of emotion. Iroh and Ozai, who were young children, sat smiling.
She reached out to touch it; the parchment had been made out of bamboo, judging by the feel of it.
Thunder clapped.
She peered over to a nearby window and watched as the waves danced beneath the gentle tapping of the rain. She smiled.
"Enjoying the view?"
She bit her lower lip, managing only a nod. She turned her head slowly, digging her sharp nails into her palms as realization struck her hard: they were alone. She, attempting causality, peered over the railing. Both the luggage and the servants and the few guards were gone. Alone. She felt her face redden, and she felt her insides knot. She hid behind a curtain of the raven hair, as if this would cause her to disappear as well.
"Where are they?" she blurted when he inched closer.
The question took his by surprise, his eyebrows shooting up his forward. "I sent the servants out to the nearest village to gather supplies," he said, like it should have been obvious.
"Oh."
"I assumed you would want to be alone without all the stalking."
Despite herself, her lips twitched into a smile and she giggled nervously, just as another clap of thunder came from outside. The loud noise startled her, and she jumped, nearly falling over the edge. She gasped when she found herself caught by her husband. Their faces only a few inches apart, she felt a new type of feeling inside of her. Not the worry and paranoia from earlier, but rather...something...strange. She couldn't describe it, but it made her feel lighter than air, her insides fluttering. He leaned in. She leaned in...
BOOM!
Her eyes opened and she turned her head to glance out the window; the rain was pouring lighter than before, glistening like tiny diamonds. Her smile broadened, watching with sad memories. Before she knew her actions, she had kissed her husband's cheek gently; leaving a light red mark from what lipstick had been left, and darted toward the door, racing carelessly out into the rain as if she were a child again. Maybe it was the sensation of being home again, on familiar ground, or the strange feeling being close to Ozai brought, but whatever the case, she felt a sense of freedom. All weights were lifted off her shoulders as rain ran through her hair; wet sand between her bare toes. She threw her neck back and closed her eyes, relishing in the way it slipped down her cheek.
From behind, she felt a pair of arms wrap around her, holding her close to the warm body they belonged to. His lips gently brushed her neck, causing her to lightly giggle and such. She felt him smile when she responded to his touch. Her eyes opened, and then turned her head to capture his lips with hers. It was a bold move, she knew, since it was traditional for the man to be the one to "make the moves", as her mother had said. But in some ways or others, she would find ways to silently rebel without her noticing. At first startled by her action, he didn't respond, but quickly returned the kiss with equal gentleness, that had the potential to morph into something more.
She turned around so that she could kiss him easier and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
Her lips parted, giving him permission to explore her mouth, which he did with glee. Their kiss grew all the more passionate with each passing second, as their lungs screamed for air, but they ignored their pleas. She felt her heart was about to explode, especially when she felt one of his hands move to cup one of her breasts. She moaned against the kiss, momentarily forgetting where they were. It hit her with smashing force, and she felt herself turn bright red in embarrassment. Pulling away, she jerked her head left and right. They were standing out in the open on the beach, and she feared someone would see them. As if reading her mind, he whispered huskily in her ear, "We're alone-this is a private beach-"
She shivered when she felt his teeth graze her earlobe. "What about the servants?" she said, her voice low and unsteady from the pleasure. "The guards, the-?"
"Shh." He brushed his fingers against her cheekbones, tracing patterns. "They're not here. We're alone." He moved his hand from her cheek to the back of her neck, abruptly bringing her mouth back to his, his tongue invading.
Her tongue fought back, both fighting for dominance in the breathtaking kiss that took over her senses, dulling them until only one thing remained: Passion. Her hands wandered to his chest, feeling the six pack that lay hidden behind his formal red shirt. The rain continued to fall, drenching the newlyweds to the bone, but they didn't seem to mind. In fact, if it weren't for the sound of thunder on occasion, Ursa wouldn't even have remembered where they were. All she wanted to focus on was what was happening now, and where it would eventually lead. Funny, she thought, how she could have been a nervous wreck earlier about what was to happen, and reluctant to get it down...but now, it couldn't happen soon enough. She wanted him. All the emotions she had kept behind a wall about how she felt for him broke free, and poured out into the kiss.
She moaned loudly when he nipped at her lower lip. She entangled her hands in his long black hair, her nails grazing over the back of his neck.
He groaned with longing, and she could see the growing bulge between his legs. Dirty thoughts filled her head, the type she found disgraceful for a young maiden to think of. In fact, whenever her flighty young cousins would swoon over men in a very inappropriate manner, whispering dirty things, she would scold them and threaten to tell their parents. Now, the irony of it all, she was the one thinking such things, and wishing to put the thoughts into action as soon as possible.
"Sex isn't something you plan out," Zeeva had said, the day before the wedding. "It's pure instinct-almost like a dance."
She had been right. Realizing this, Ursa turned off her brain, and permitted her instinct to take over.
Clutching his hair as if her life depended on it, she brought his lips in for one more mind boggling kiss before letting herself fall to the sand, him with her. She lay on top of him, giggling seductively as she traced her finger down his jaw line all the way to the neckline on his shirt. She pouted, fluttering her naturally long eyelashes, tsking. "Your shirt is drenched," she said, her voice low and agonizingly smooth like glass. "Allow me..." She was surprised by her own confidence as she slowly undid the shirt, humming a tune while doing so. The lust in his eyes glowed like a dragon's, piercing her with a fiery gaze. She took her sweet time undoing the shirt, enjoying the anticipation it brought. Who said she had to play this game fair?
Growing increasingly impatient, Ozai ripped his shirt, revealing a toned, alabaster chest and abs that sent her into awe-filled silence.
He smirked. "Enjoy the view?"
She met his eyes. His voice had been playful, almost taunting. She responded in the same tone. "I suppose," she sat, tracing her finger from where it had left off from the neck, stopping only when she reached the hardcore six-pack that the maids had swooned about so much.
On occasions, so they told, they would "accidentally" enter his room, believing it was their mistresses, in hopes to see the legendary body. She cocked her head to the side, the rain sliding down her neck and down her cleavage. His eyes followed hopefully. But she made no movement to undress herself, or give him the chance to, because she enjoyed having the upper hand. And the fact he was willing made her grin sinisterly.
The rain had caused her white dress to turn see-through, so that it clung tightly to her body and revealed a few areas that made him harden even more, if that were possible.
"Something wrong?" she asked teasingly at his impatient and passionate expression.
"Your turn," he said, and before she could react, he had flipped them over so that he topped instead of her, which resulted in an annoyed growl from the wife. He just chuckled, slightly turned on. "You didn't think I'd let you have all the fun, did you?"
She pressed her hands on his sculpture-like chest and smirked, eyes glinting with mischief. "If I was the only one having fun, then explain what is the lump between your legs," she said, mockingly.
He cocked his eyebrow. "What's this sudden confidence?" he asked playfully.
She shrugged, wishing to cut the small talk and get back to what really mattered. "Shut up and kiss me."
It was his turn to smirk, but before he could say anything snarky, she had grabbed his head and shoved her lips to his longingly, pleased to feel his member grow. She could practically see her cousins staring at her with a mixture of jealousy and annoyance. Jealous, because she was the wife of Prince Ozai of the Fire Nation. Annoyed, because of all the times she had scolded them over such mannerisms. The sound of tearing fabric was heard, and she smirked against his mouth. Obviously having been frustrated with the dress and how it refused to come off, continuing to cling to her, he had torn it apart. It revealed her undergarments, which, like the dress, were white, with orange, yellow, and red beads. His lips moved from her mouth to her neck, nipping at a sensitive spot just behind her ear.
She made a noise somewhere between a moan and a purr.
Like the shirt, the dress was tossed aside, left to gather more rain and sand, followed by her breast-bindings.
His eyes widened at her chest, speechless.
"Enjoy the view?" she smirked again.
"Good Agni..." he groaned, kissing her from the neck and down, slowly making his way to her chest. His hands cupped her, pinched, massaged...she moaned in pleasure, feeling a tingling feeling between her own legs, which fueled the passion and need inside of her. Finally, his lips found her breast, lapping very slowly, to a point where she felt she was to explode with exasperation. To prove her point without the use of words, she used her knee to grind into his groin, egging him on. He laughed huskily, gold eyes flicking towards her briefly before he took it into his mouth and suckled, at first gentle, but then turned rough.
She threw her neck back in pleasure as the rain continued to fall, mixing in with sweat.
Was this truly the same woman from earlier? The one who had been scared out of her mind and soul, the one who had desired nothing more than to disappear...? Surely not! Surely this was an entirely different woman. But upon seeing her reflection in his lustful eyes, she saw herself. She bit hard on her lower lip when he moved his lips to the neglected breast-
She suddenly blushed. Here he was, supplying her with overwhelming pleasures and unruly sensations. Would it only be fair to give something in return? Once he had removed his mouth from her breast, she grabbed him and roughly flipped them over, allowing her to top like before. Ah, much better. He grunted in surprise, and raised his eyebrows curiously at her seductive grin. She kissed him in chaste, and then dragged her lips from his, all the way down, earning herself pleasured moans, mixed in with the element of surprise. When she reached his pants, she lifted her head, eyebrows raised, as if appalled by the garment. She started to remove it.
"Wh-" he began, but was silenced by her finger on his lip.
"Please, husband," she cooed, again surprised by her own seductiveness. "You have pleasured me enough for now, so let me, in return, show you..." she trailed away when he was totally naked before her. This was most unusual and reversed, and would be considered unorthodox by some out there, but seemed to be working for them, so she would continue. She took his manhood in her hand and started to caress and stroke it. He closed his eyes, sexy noises emerging from his mouth.
"My brother likes to be the dominant one!" Iroh had laughed, after training. "He never lets anyone else have the upper hand."
Oh, how wrong you are, Ursa thought to herself smugly.
Here was the great prince, entirely under her control. She had assumed that she would be the one being controlled, but it wasn't the case. And she liked it. But, she made a mental note not to get used to it-maybe it was seasickness that was fogging Ozai's mind, keeping him from realizing a woman was controlling him in the most dominant way imaginable. Azulon would most likely pass out if his knew his son could be so easily manipulated, and by a woman, no less. Ilah would probably faint, and Iroh...he would laugh. Because that was what he always did during awkward moments that defied tradition.
Leaning down, she kissed his member, and then lifted her head to see if this met with the approval of her husband. Not that she needed to look up, since his moans were loud enough to wake a deaf man from his sleep. She felt something warm and wet brush against her hand and looked down, gasping. Pre-cum. She felt her face redden, and, unsure of what else to do, wiped her hand quickly on the barbaric excuse for a dress. She returned back to her husband, who, without warning, cupped her head in his hand, kissed her senseless, and took his position on top. So overwhelmed with pleasure and blurred thoughts, she barely noticed his positioning himself at her entrance, and looking at her to see if she were ready. Her expression was one of passion, and saw this as approval.
He entered her.
Ursa's senses sharpened as if she had just emerged from a fog and into sunlight, making her hyper-sensitive to what was happening. She felt a great pain between her legs, and her breath hitched as he pounded into her, at first slow and steady. She dug her fingernails into his back, most likely drawing blood and eventually scars. She gasped in pain, but it could have easily been mistaken for pleasure. This was what she had been preparing herself for, this what she knew would eventually happen. But she had never imagined the intense pain. She buried her face in his shoulder to keep from screaming-she had to get through this. And besides, she had no choice. There was no turning back.
As his wife, it was her duty to please him, and if this was what men found...satisfying...then she had to. She ran through her mother's words of advice on how to cope through it, attempting to find comfort in them. But the pain kept her from thinking straight. She felt tears brimming her eyes. Thankfully, they blended in with the rain. Funny, how the night could go from undeniably pleasurable and overwhelming to pain. But that was now her new life would be, so she had to get used to it. Suck it up. She closed her eyes and prayed to Agni that the pain would stop, that she could slip into a peaceful silence just for a mere second-
He stopped thrusting, and stared down in surprise at the blood mixed in with the wet sand. "Ursa," he said, breathless. His eyes were full of guilt and surprise. "Why didn't you tell me you were a virgin?"
"What?" She blinked, confused. "What..." she hissed briefly in pain. "...are you talking about? Why wouldn't you think...? Do you think I'm a whore?"
"No," he said quickly, blushing. "I only thought...surely as someone as beautiful as you..."
She glared. "Do I look like that type of person to you?"
"No, but-" He stopped himself, at fear of insulting her even further. "What I meant was, had I known you were a virgin, I would have been, um, much more gentle."
Touched, and yet insulted, she sighed. "Yes, well, I suppose we should continue now," she said, glancing over his shoulder at the house. "But in the bedroom, please. The maids may-"
Scooping her up bridal style, he walked inside casually, seemingly uncaring that they could be caught at any moment, that a poor maid could appear, or a guard. The poor people would be mentally scarred, but it was clear he didn't care. Rain dripped from their skin, leaving wet foot-prints on the wooden floor. The rest of the events were a blur. The moment they entered the bedroom, and locked the door, of course, they embraced, ready to try again. This time, Ursa was determined to keep herself relaxed and calm, and even find a little pleasure in it.
Well, once the pain subsided, it was.
His thrusts were gentle and pleasurable, once they got passed the hard part, and she found herself moaning his name, eventually screaming it when she felt her climax was near. They both came together in union, shouting each others' names into the night. She clung to him as if he were a life-preserver out at sea. And he clung to her. They both shared one last passionate, life-changing kiss before falling asleep in one another's arms, both smiling as they prepared for their lives together...
o
Ki bowed her head, moving her lips in silent prayer.
"Get to work," Zeeva said impatiently, organizing the kitchen. "Enough of your prayers for one d-good, Agni, child, you look like a ghost!"
Ki lifted her eyes, which were normally lively and bright, but were now grave as the dead. "Agni help us now," she murmured, assisting her in work.
"What are you talking about?" Zeeva demanded, brow furrowed. She busied herself with stocking the shelves with banana peppers.
Ki snorted. "You would laugh."
"Try me," Zeeva said gently.
Hesitating, the young maid placed some supplies in the cupboard while the other waited impatiently for a response. "There is...well...we maids..."
"What?"
She gulped. "There is an old legend in my village. That when newlyweds bed for the first time during a thunderstorm, their marriage shall be corrupted somehow, and the children will be somehow weak-"
Zeeva burst into laughter, leaning against the counter for support. "I've heard that legend," she snickered. "But isn't it good luck? Like, your children will be Firebenders-"
"It's a mixed process," Ki hissed venomously. "Thunder means weakness, lightning means power." She furrowed her brow. "But, together...I don't know."
"You are mentally unstable," Zeeva scoffed. "You should be celebrating! Prince Ozai has a wife-we should be happy for them, Ki."
She could only nod, and continued to her work. But inside, deep down, she knew their marriage would be corrupted with emptiness...
Not my best work...buy, hey...(raises hands)...I was bored, and I've been away from fanfiction a while, so I wanted some people to know I'm still alive. So, yeah. I hope you enjoyed this, and remember, it was my first lemon, so be kind with the revi-aw, what the heck. Flame all ya want! (long pause) Heh, heh...flames...Firebenders...get it? (crickets chirp) No?...okay. (awkwardly walks away) Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this! ttfn