Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over 'Avatar: The Last Airbender' nor am I profiting from this.
Pairing(s): Iroh & Ursa.
Warning(s): none.
Word Count: 306.
Iroh collects as many toys as his arms can manage, heaves an enormous sigh, and leans back against the playroom wall. Ursa doesn't complain as she crouches to pick up yet another charred doll, her expression composed into a neutral mask.
"Ozai wants their playroom turned into a training area," she says. "I'm not ignorant and understand its necessary for them to begin preparing for their duties. Its still necessary for them to be children, though."
Her touch is maternal even for an inanimate object. Her light stroke still crumples the doll. Her hair comes apart. Her once polished cheeks have been marred with ash.
"I can choose other things for Azula," he says with an uncomfortable chuckle. "I suppose she's getting too old for dolls."
"Azula continues struggling with our lesson: a gift should always be treasured, especially when it comes from someone that loves us. Ozai worries I'm spoiling them too much. He fails to realize someday our children will be grown, and their memories with him will be nonexistent."
Iroh glances around for a servant. Nobody passes the playroom, but he still keeps his voice low.
"I know my brother," he warns, "Ozai will budge and bend for a limited time before breaking the one asking."
Her voice drops to a whisper. "sometimes, I imagine taking the children and running."
"Would you ever try?"
"Azula can survive her father; I fear she might have the strength to take him down. I could take my son, but someone would recognize us. He could always find us." Ursa grips the doll against her chest. "Do you know how he would punish our son?"
He knows. Anyone here could guess. A tighter squeeze will make the dolls head pop off. Could it break under a shoe?
"He'd publicly execute me."
Its head rolls across the floor.