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31_days2006-11-26 08:17 pm
sophiap.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2006-11-26 08:17 pm
[Nov. 26] [Avatar] The good wife
Title: The good wife
Day/Theme: November 26 - a thinking woman sleeps with monsters
Series: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Character/Pairing: Ursa
Rating: PG
Ever since she could walk on her own, Ursa's life had been dedicated to learning every possible lesson there was on how to be a fine lady and how to be a good wife. After all, barely a week after her birth, she had been betrothed to Prince Ozai in a match that would strengthen both her own very powerful family and the Fire Lord's.
She learned deportment and calligraphy and dance. She could carry on non-inflammatory discussions in the realms of politics, history, culture, and religion. She became proficient in five different instruments and memorized dozens upon dozens of traditional songs. She never became adept at embroidery, but she at least learned how to be decorous while doing so. She was trained in the art of diplomacy and was set to read all of the classics necessary to make her officially "well read."
Above all, Ursa was taught that it was important to be virtuous. That, more than anything, more than deportment and calligraphy, was what was expected of a good wife.
When she was told this, Ursa nodded and quietly tucked that bit of knowledge away with everything else she'd learned: sestinas and sonnets, blackwork and cutwork, deportment and discourse.
She had thought she was prepared for her marriage, but three days into her new life at the Fire Lord's court, she wondered if perhaps she should have been taught deception rather than discourse, sycophancy instead of sonnets, and the art of blackmail as opposed to the more decorative art of blackwork.
Fortunately, she managed to find a friend who provided a safe haven from a court life that she found repulsive and a husband who was casually cruel and who had no interest her outside of her family's wealth and connections, and her occasional presence in his bed.
Unfortunately, no one had ever told her that it was not enough just to be virtuous. One must also take great pains to appear virtuous.
She wished that someone had told her that being virtuous also meant not showing any preference for the company of her husband's older brother, a recent widower who had a delightful child and an even more delightful sense of humor. It didn't matter that he actually liked to listen to her opinions on literature rather than hear how well she could parrot conventional opinion--she never should have engaged in any conversations that seemed unusually intent. So what if she could play Pai Sho with him and not worry about him being offended if she had the gall to play to win--she should have known better than to play those games behind closed doors or late into the evening.
She knew that these times spent together were completely innocent, and that she never once considered doing anything more than bestowing a sisterly kiss on her friend's cheek. She knew better than that. She had always known better than that. But who would take her word for it? Or her brother-in-law's?
Oh, there were never any overt accusations. Those would have been politically improvident. There was no proof, after all, only suspicion, and he could not afford to offend her family. Instead, there was an unbroken thread of sly insinuation and shrouded innuendo laced through every conversation.
At least when her daughter was born, Iroh had been at war and away from the court for nearly two years. Ursa wished she was surprised that Azula was her father's favorite, or that she was the one he chose to name after his own father, but she had learned the lesson she wished someone had taught her long ago.
Now, as she watched her son try and fail once again to earn his father's approval, she only wished that someone could teach her how to explain to him why he never could.
Day/Theme: November 26 - a thinking woman sleeps with monsters
Series: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Character/Pairing: Ursa
Rating: PG
Ever since she could walk on her own, Ursa's life had been dedicated to learning every possible lesson there was on how to be a fine lady and how to be a good wife. After all, barely a week after her birth, she had been betrothed to Prince Ozai in a match that would strengthen both her own very powerful family and the Fire Lord's.
She learned deportment and calligraphy and dance. She could carry on non-inflammatory discussions in the realms of politics, history, culture, and religion. She became proficient in five different instruments and memorized dozens upon dozens of traditional songs. She never became adept at embroidery, but she at least learned how to be decorous while doing so. She was trained in the art of diplomacy and was set to read all of the classics necessary to make her officially "well read."
Above all, Ursa was taught that it was important to be virtuous. That, more than anything, more than deportment and calligraphy, was what was expected of a good wife.
When she was told this, Ursa nodded and quietly tucked that bit of knowledge away with everything else she'd learned: sestinas and sonnets, blackwork and cutwork, deportment and discourse.
She had thought she was prepared for her marriage, but three days into her new life at the Fire Lord's court, she wondered if perhaps she should have been taught deception rather than discourse, sycophancy instead of sonnets, and the art of blackmail as opposed to the more decorative art of blackwork.
Fortunately, she managed to find a friend who provided a safe haven from a court life that she found repulsive and a husband who was casually cruel and who had no interest her outside of her family's wealth and connections, and her occasional presence in his bed.
Unfortunately, no one had ever told her that it was not enough just to be virtuous. One must also take great pains to appear virtuous.
She wished that someone had told her that being virtuous also meant not showing any preference for the company of her husband's older brother, a recent widower who had a delightful child and an even more delightful sense of humor. It didn't matter that he actually liked to listen to her opinions on literature rather than hear how well she could parrot conventional opinion--she never should have engaged in any conversations that seemed unusually intent. So what if she could play Pai Sho with him and not worry about him being offended if she had the gall to play to win--she should have known better than to play those games behind closed doors or late into the evening.
She knew that these times spent together were completely innocent, and that she never once considered doing anything more than bestowing a sisterly kiss on her friend's cheek. She knew better than that. She had always known better than that. But who would take her word for it? Or her brother-in-law's?
Oh, there were never any overt accusations. Those would have been politically improvident. There was no proof, after all, only suspicion, and he could not afford to offend her family. Instead, there was an unbroken thread of sly insinuation and shrouded innuendo laced through every conversation.
At least when her daughter was born, Iroh had been at war and away from the court for nearly two years. Ursa wished she was surprised that Azula was her father's favorite, or that she was the one he chose to name after his own father, but she had learned the lesson she wished someone had taught her long ago.
Now, as she watched her son try and fail once again to earn his father's approval, she only wished that someone could teach her how to explain to him why he never could.