Ursa had always been afraid this day would come.
She was standing just outside of her home- her new home, in the Earth Kingdom, where she'd relocated to after being banished. She hadn't gone far from the Fire Nation; that was her true home, really, and had settled down in one of the towns along the coast. It was easy enough to pass off as a refuge in time of war, and the people here were kind, despite their own poverty.
She'd managed to acquire a small house of her own, on a hill overlooking the town and the sea. She worked all day, long hard hours, as a seamstress. She'd learned the trade upon arriving here, nearly seven years ago; she was not as talented at this job as others, but was able to make simple clothing well enough.
But now, it seemed that this new life she'd built was about to come to an end. There, down in the port, was a Fire Nation ship, complete with the royal emblem.
There had been rumors lately, that the war was over. No one seemed to be sure which side had won; the Earth King had fallen, that much was certain. And the Avatar had gone missing. But some had said that the Avatar had come back, that he hadn't died, and that he'd defeated Ozai. But, others still said that Azula had been crowned as the new Fire Lord, and there were even more rumors of some sort of terrible Agni Kai between Azula and Zuko.
If all these were true, that Ozai had been defeated, but Azula had taken the throne…. Ursa knew, she just knew that this ship was a bad omen. There was only one reason in the world for a royal ship to have docked in this port, in this town: they were coming for her.
She'd had an inkling this would happen, once word got out that she had been the one to kill Azulon. Banishment would not be enough of a punishment; only death would suffice.
Ursa considered running. She could flee; she could possibly get on to another town, and then another, and another. But what sort of life was that? Always running, forever looking over her shoulder. And Ursa was nothing if not a lady, despite her new, lowly position in life, and a lady did not flee.
She would wait, and accept her fate.
It was perhaps an hour later when the soldiers arrived. Ursa had moved inside, to look over the few things she still had with her, things she had taken when she'd left the Fire Nation. She'd kept them hidden beneath a floorboard, so that no one could ever stumble upon them, and discover that she was Fire Nation. There was a necklace that had belonged to her mother, a comb, and a family portrait. She'd taken that, if only to look upon and remember Zuko.
Her darling, wonderful little boy; she wished she could have seen him grow. He'd had all the promises of the world; he was bright, and passionate, and never, ever gave up. She did not believe the rumors at all, that Zuko had fallen in a battle with Azula; perhaps it was only because she couldn't let herself believe that. Zuko would persevere. He had to. She'd clung to any bit of news she heard about him; her heart had wept for Zuko when she'd heard he'd been banished. But from his banishment on, the stories became very fuzzy and each was different from the rest; it was hard to know what the truth was.
Ursa jumped at a loud rapping at the door, and swallowed, composing herself. Leaving the painting on the table, she answered the door, not surprised but not prepared to see Fire Nation soldiers, perhaps a half a dozen of them, outside of her door.
"Ursa?" one questioned.
She nodded.
The soldier didn't say anything more; he nodded to another, and that soldier then bent fire, shooting it upwards into the sky. Ursa clasped her hands together in front of her, to keep them from trembling, but still found her voice to ask, "Will it be long?"
"The Fire Lord is coming," was the short reply.
The Fire Lord. Ursa did not know who to expect for this; Ozai, Zuko or Azula. All were rumored to be the current Fire Lord, and Ursa did not know if she could stay composed being confronted by any of them.
Ozai and Azula would be the easiest. Zuko….
If Zuko had found out what she'd done, that she'd murdered his grandfather, who knew how he'd react? She'd been separated from him for seven years; he could very well be an entirely different person.
The soldiers would not allow her to leave the house while they waited. This waiting…it was worse than anything else Ursa had been through; the fear of the unknown loomed ahead, and it became harder and harder to keep up her calm and collected façade, especially as the sound of marching soldiers came nearer and nearer.
Finally, the marching stopped, and the door to her small home opened; two soldiers walked in, and then….
At first, Ursa did not recognize the young man dressed in royal attire in front of her, but within a second she realized it was Zuko, and gasped. The scar he had was worse than she could have imagined; of course she'd heard about it, but seeing it, all red and dimpled and covering nearly half his face was a completely different story. It was hard to look at, and hurt her, deep inside. She hadn't thought Ozai would have actually been that cruel, and she had failed to protect Zuko from such a terrible punishment.
He was so much older now. He was not quite as tall as her, only an inch of so shorter than she was. His shoulders were broad, and he stood with an authoritative air about him.
Her son was now a man.
"Zuko." Her voice was soft and breathy and barely there, but it broke the small silence and tension between them.
"Mom." And then Zuko had dropped his composure, and was walking to her; it wasn't until they had reached one another that Ursa realized she'd been going to him as well. She took him in her arms, holding him tight, unable to stop the tears from flowing.
Zuko was crying too; she could feel him shaking in her arms. And she welcomed it. Zuko was still the emotional boy she'd raised, and she was so proud of him.
I do not know. This just came to me.
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