"Firelord," two voices murmured where there should have been one.
Azulon regarded the woman in Seneschal Jinzai's office. A pretty young thing, sun-darkened skin and bright eyes. She wore the robes of a minor official, and her left hand was maimed.
He held out his hand expectantly, and she offered her maimed hand without flinching. He examined it, noting the criss-cross of scar tissue and the way the delicate bones of the hand were not laid out right. He had never seen anything quite like it. "How did this happen?"
"An earthbender spiked my hand, Firelord," she said in a smoke-worn voice.
His fingertips slid against her palm. "Not a single spike."
"No," she said, glancing away. "A chrysanthemum's worth."
He nodded and let her take her hand back. She retreated to a corner, sitting down at a scribe's bench.
He glanced at his seneschal.
"My brother, General Zedong, asked me to look out for her," Jinzai replied. "She has no family worth mentioning, and she has not recovered enough to fight again."
Azulon nodded and returned his attention to why he had come to see his seneschal in the first place.
***
Somewhere in the next two years of her trailing in Seneschal Jinzai's shadow, Azulon learned her name was Kajizu.
The third winter she dwelt in the palace, Jinzai came down with a terrible fever. Azulon scowled as the Sages reported he was unlikely to live and cursed them when they tried to turn matters to the miserable cur who had killed Ilah.
Jinzai died before the Winter Solstice.
"Who can be my seneschal?" Azulon demanded of his ministers and daimyos. "Who can take Jinzai's place and serve as well as he did?"
No one answered him, and he felt his rage and grief raising the flames before his throne.
Daimyo Makou, who had come to the capital to avoid his wife again, folded his hands. Flickers of white fire ignited along his fingertips. "Seneschal Jinzai seemed to give much responsibility to the young woman with the maimed hand."
"Yes!" Crowed one of his ministers, "Kajizu will know which candidates are best for the position!"
Soon all of them had agreed that Kajizu would know well who might serve as seneschal.
Azulon marked the annoyance on Makou's face. He had not been suggesting Kajizu offer advice.
"Perhaps," he said, looking at the daimyo, "You are correct."
***
Azulon found her in Seneschal Jinzai's office, attending to paperwork. There was a fine pile in the corner of the seneschal's desk, and he picked the top page up to read over. An order for the granaries of Fire Island, awaiting only the seneschal's seal.
She snuck glances at him as she worked at her little scribe's desk, and he pretended not to see as he scanned the whole pile of work.
"You have done much to keep my empire running," he said at last.
She dipped her head in acknowledgment.
"You will do more, Seneschal."
Her eyes widened in her heart-shaped face, then she bowed formally. He looked at her prostrate form with her fine dark hair and maimed hand, and the flicker-thought of that hand on him stirred him as no one had since Lady Ilah's death.
He frowned. "Rise. Do your work."
***
Two years. She was his faithful seneschal for two years, ever there at his need, ever anticipating what needed to be done here in the Fire Nation to keep matters running smoothly.
She dressed as formally as a married woman, though he knew she wasn't. But she covered her breasts, her stomach, her shoulders. She wore her hair in a spinster's topknot, yet there favored a piece of jewelry. Risque, but she was unmarried and not a soldier. It was restrained, too, simply a gold needle slid through her topknot.
Two years, and he watched how she still moved like a soldier, listened to her smoke-worn firebender's voice, touched her hands and arms and shoulders.
He broke before the Spring Equinox, locked the door of her office, and hefted her into her desk. She gasp-snarled, good hand igniting, until he kissed her and stole her breath and flame.
She stared up at him with wild, bright eyes, and he traced the edge of her jaw. "You are lovely, Kajizu. I delight in loveliness."
Her eyes flickered, then she relaxed against him. "Of course, my lord."
AtLA: Kajizu, This was NEVER in the job description.
Azulon regarded the woman in Seneschal Jinzai's office. A pretty young thing, sun-darkened skin and bright eyes. She wore the robes of a minor official, and her left hand was maimed.
He held out his hand expectantly, and she offered her maimed hand without flinching. He examined it, noting the criss-cross of scar tissue and the way the delicate bones of the hand were not laid out right. He had never seen anything quite like it. "How did this happen?"
"An earthbender spiked my hand, Firelord," she said in a smoke-worn voice.
His fingertips slid against her palm. "Not a single spike."
"No," she said, glancing away. "A chrysanthemum's worth."
He nodded and let her take her hand back. She retreated to a corner, sitting down at a scribe's bench.
He glanced at his seneschal.
"My brother, General Zedong, asked me to look out for her," Jinzai replied. "She has no family worth mentioning, and she has not recovered enough to fight again."
Azulon nodded and returned his attention to why he had come to see his seneschal in the first place.
***
Somewhere in the next two years of her trailing in Seneschal Jinzai's shadow, Azulon learned her name was Kajizu.
The third winter she dwelt in the palace, Jinzai came down with a terrible fever. Azulon scowled as the Sages reported he was unlikely to live and cursed them when they tried to turn matters to the miserable cur who had killed Ilah.
Jinzai died before the Winter Solstice.
"Who can be my seneschal?" Azulon demanded of his ministers and daimyos. "Who can take Jinzai's place and serve as well as he did?"
No one answered him, and he felt his rage and grief raising the flames before his throne.
Daimyo Makou, who had come to the capital to avoid his wife again, folded his hands. Flickers of white fire ignited along his fingertips. "Seneschal Jinzai seemed to give much responsibility to the young woman with the maimed hand."
"Yes!" Crowed one of his ministers, "Kajizu will know which candidates are best for the position!"
Soon all of them had agreed that Kajizu would know well who might serve as seneschal.
Azulon marked the annoyance on Makou's face. He had not been suggesting Kajizu offer advice.
"Perhaps," he said, looking at the daimyo, "You are correct."
***
Azulon found her in Seneschal Jinzai's office, attending to paperwork. There was a fine pile in the corner of the seneschal's desk, and he picked the top page up to read over. An order for the granaries of Fire Island, awaiting only the seneschal's seal.
She snuck glances at him as she worked at her little scribe's desk, and he pretended not to see as he scanned the whole pile of work.
"You have done much to keep my empire running," he said at last.
She dipped her head in acknowledgment.
"You will do more, Seneschal."
Her eyes widened in her heart-shaped face, then she bowed formally. He looked at her prostrate form with her fine dark hair and maimed hand, and the flicker-thought of that hand on him stirred him as no one had since Lady Ilah's death.
He frowned. "Rise. Do your work."
***
Two years. She was his faithful seneschal for two years, ever there at his need, ever anticipating what needed to be done here in the Fire Nation to keep matters running smoothly.
She dressed as formally as a married woman, though he knew she wasn't. But she covered her breasts, her stomach, her shoulders. She wore her hair in a spinster's topknot, yet there favored a piece of jewelry. Risque, but she was unmarried and not a soldier. It was restrained, too, simply a gold needle slid through her topknot.
Two years, and he watched how she still moved like a soldier, listened to her smoke-worn firebender's voice, touched her hands and arms and shoulders.
He broke before the Spring Equinox, locked the door of her office, and hefted her into her desk. She gasp-snarled, good hand igniting, until he kissed her and stole her breath and flame.
She stared up at him with wild, bright eyes, and he traced the edge of her jaw. "You are lovely, Kajizu. I delight in loveliness."
Her eyes flickered, then she relaxed against him. "Of course, my lord."