Firelord Azhar (guidingflame) wrote in avatarnation, @ 2009-09-04 17:54:00 |
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Current location: | Fire Palace gardens |
Entry tags: | azah, azhar, kozu, zuma |
Stress is bad for your health
Who: Azhar & anyone in the Royal Palace
When: Early evening
Where: Fire Nation Royal Palace
What: Free time after a long day.
Warnings & Notes: None presently.
Azhar didn't allow himself to show any hint weariness until he was alone in the sanctity of his private apartment. The servants had helped him remove the robes of office, which were then taken away to be cleaned and pressed to be used the next day. They left him after helping him into more casual clothes of a black long-sleeved shirt with scarlet-knot frogs holding it closed, and dark red pants over simple sandals. Still finely made and of silk, but more simply cut and with only a fraction of the embroidery.
The golden hairpiece signifying his title and rank that was fairly omnipresent in his topknot he removed himself. Only a member of the royal family or one of the Fire Sages could touch it. He placed it in the velvet-lined box on the dresser, then braced his palms flat on the dresser itself to study his reflection. The silver at his temples was more prominent than he liked, though it provided a nice contrast with the gold of his eyes. He was grateful for the smallness of the lines of his face. Age usually equated wisdom but Azhar was in no hurry to get old and especially not prematurely.
Not that today's council meeting was helping any. So many squabbles today and all of them rather petty in his mind. Merchant fights, trading agreements, welfare problems, propositions for new laws, budgeting for different provinces all over the archipelago, military budgets, judicial matters that for some reason or another couldn't be handled locally... The list went on and on, and today's all-day meeting was only of domestic issues. Two days from now the council would discuss international matters, like the ongoing tensions concerning the lands formerly the territories of the Air Nomads.
Was it selfish, he wondered, to wish that Avatar Aang might have foreseen this problem and divvied up the Air Nomad lands according to how he wanted them distributed and thus saved Azhar the headache? Probably, he thought with a sigh.
He brushed a hand over his hair to smooth any errant strands and then straightened. The day's business was done, he reminded himself. He had some time to spend doing whatever he wanted. A portion of that time he would reserve for his firebending exercises, of course, but he also wished to make himself available to his family. His children were growing up so fast. It seemed like only yesterday Kozu's tiny fingers were tightly gripping his hands as the prince took his first faltering steps.
That happy memory in mind, he strode out to the pond to check on the turtle-ducks, waving over a servant to request some bread brought out so he could feed the unofficial official palace pets.