Night fell over the Fire Nation. The quiet chirping of firefly-crickets mingled with the soft deep breathing in the palace chamber. Warm wind danced with the crimson gauzy curtains, flickering like a calm fire. It was nights like these that soothed the Fire Nation Princess; nights like these that made her feel at peace.
Ursa clutched the silk covers to her frame, secretly delighting in the erotic feel of the cool fabric cascading over her skin. She looked out to the moon and felt a strange force drawing her to the dimer sun in the night sky. Unlike others of the Fire Nation, she did not fear the moon, did not feel drained and weak; on the contrary the moon made her feel free, free to dream dreams and hope for hopes that she never dared to in the oppressive sun where someone was always watching her. The moon was her companion in the night; it kept her secret longings well.
A shift in breathing brought her attention to what had kept her up this night. Her eyes traced the long chiseled lines of her bedmate. Her fingers itched to caress his face for once clear of the harshness that accompanied him in his waking hours. A smile broke out on her lips as she studied the glorious hair she often times envied as its softness contrastingly draped itself over the hardness of his muscles, honed from years of intensive training. She could not deny the beauty that was her husband and it was only nights like these where she truly felt he belonged to her.
She could feel the gap between them, widening with each week she remained without child. The royal physicians warned her that when Angi wanted her to conceive she would, but this placating phrase gave her no comfort, only despair. Iroh had been kind enough to concoct a blend of tea and spice that would increase her chance of fertility and she drunk it ferociously. She often times spent hours praying to Angi for fertility; every month she was disappointed to find that her prayers had not been answered.
Every disapproving glance from her husband imagined or not chinked away at her strong built façade. She held her head strong and proud against the whisperings of servants that echoed her fears; how long would it be before the Fire Prince banished her? Banishment would be the greatest dishonor on her family and scared her to her soul. If she was banished she could not return to Hira'a, to do so would shame her parents, but she had never been anywhere else; where else would she, could she go?
Her husband rustled in his sleep and wrapped his arm around her waist. Ursa's entire body tensed, waiting for him to search her soul with his harsh golden eyes. When he relaxed back into the bed she released a breath she had not known she was holding. A small smile crept across her face. She wondered if he ever held his concubines after his lust was sated. Her smile disappeared at the thought of his concubines. They were no secret to her, but as a good wife she pretended oblivion to his extra-marital affairs. She did not miss the sympathetic expressions on the handmaidens' faces, nor the smug glints in the eyes of the concubines who shared the prince. What stabbed her heart the most was the challenging glares from her husband; it was as if he dared her to say something to him about what he chose to do in his leisure time. In the still of the night, after her tears had dried, Ursa wondered when she became so weak and docile that she ignored the barely muffled screams from Ozai's bedroom instead of barging in and demanding her right by wife.
Ursa could feel her fury rising and quickly stifled it. It would do no good to stab him while he slept. Rustling followed by a deep rumbling announced the end to her husband's slumber and she silently cursed the tears she had only now notice ran down her cheeks and pooled in the silk below her. Ozai sat up, his back against the headboard, and watched his wife.
"Why are you awake?" His voice rang like a cannon blast through the otherwise quiet room.
"My mind would not let me rest." She fisted the sheets, praying he would accept that answer and go back to bed. She was in no mood to bare her one-sided emotions tonight.
"What were you thinking about?" He asked in a bored tone that left Ursa wondering why he even asked at all.
"Nothing consequential. I was just thinking about the moon."
"What about the moon makes you cry?" Skepticism radiated from him like the excess warmth from his body. Often times she wondered how he could stand the heat of the Fire Nation summer with his body already several degrees higher than normal. He had told her once that he did not notice the heat; it felt as normal to him as breathing. His eyes warned her to see beneath the sarcastic question he asked and convey the true answer he sought. A rebellious thought sparked through her but she decided against it. Maybe this time he was asking not as her prince, but as someone who had a genuine interest in her thoughts.
"I was wondering about your concubines." Ozai's perfectly sculpted brow rose in confusion as he brushed stray strands out of his face.
"What about them?"
"I wondered if they ever slept in your chambers. If you ever kept them here in case the urge overtook you in the middle of the night or in the early morning." He contemplated answering her for a few moments, and Ursa believed he wasn't going to answer her at all.
"Would it bother you if they did?" She could not categorize his answer. He was not mocking her, he seemed to genuinely want to know, but she was weary about giving away her feelings too soon.
"It is not my place to judge what the prince does in his chambers." She answered cautiously.
"That is not what I asked you, Ursa. I asked you if it bothered you."
"Would you stop if it did?" Ozai's eyes searched hers for the underlying message but found nothing. For all her common background, she was born to be a princess. Her face belayed nothing by which to guide him of her feelings; it irritated him that she could be so carefree in her responses with his brother, but always kept him at a distance. He wanted to see that porcelain mask of hers crumble and reveal the girl full of emotion she had been when they first married.
"In regards to sleeping, my bed is for myself, and my wife, only." Ozai smirked to see the surprise on her face. He had never allowed a concubine to stay the night with him; he released her after he was done sating the lust his wife seemed to never have for she never sought him out. He was tired of ordering her into his bed. He wanted her to come to him desiring and willing, like he knew she would for that peasant she'd left behind. Jealously swirled in his gut and he resisted the urge to growl; she was his wife, and yet he still competed for her. Ursa was about to respond but he cut her off.
"It is late, rest." He slid beneath the covers and held them up for her to follow suit. Hesitating only a moment she laid down beside him. He clasped her hips and pulled her close to him forming her body into every curve of his lean and muscled stature. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her shoulder before falling back into oblivion. Ursa could not resist the grin that arrested her lips. Ozai had shown her a softer side, one she doubted any of his concubines or anyone besides she got to see. It was nights like these, where she truly felt he belonged to her.