All the Things I Wanted
Rating: K
Summary: Ursa will always do as her family asks. Ozai pursues his desires without consequence. Set pre-series, pre-Zuko, and pre-marriage.
A/N: This is a terribly, awfully, irresponsibly late gift fic for sugarland31, who requested something with Ursa and Ozai. Sadly, finals killed my brain before I could write it, and I'm just now finally getting back into my Avatar writing rhythm.
If you've read The Other Boleyn Girl and The Constant Princess by Phillipa Gregory, this might sound familiar; I've based my characterization of young!Ozai almost entirely upon Henry VIII. In her books Henry is a spoiled rotten younger prince who was raised to have fun and never expected to take the throne; in my world, Ozai was raised a spoiled rotten younger prince who one day decided he wanted the throne and decided to pursue that. I actually really enjoyed writing this, and seriously might consider pursuing it further later. Ursa is supposed to be almost 16, and Ozai has just turned 14.
She was hot. It didn't matter that the robe she was clad in was made of the softest, slinkiest silk or that her feet were incased in the lightest, most delicate slippers available; the mask hung heavily over her face and made it hard for her to breathe – her mouth remained uncovered despite the hard edges that dipped on either side down to her chin, but it was unladylike to stand around with her mouth hanging open, so Ursa put on her most flattering smile and continued to breathe through her nose, gasping sweet air through her mouth when she was confident enough that no one was looking.
Taking a break from dancing, she was working her way back to the table where her mother and the other ladies sat, fanning herself gently and wondering if she could possibly sneak another glass of wine without her father's knowledge when she heard it – someone hissing her name.
Her amber eyes slid sideways, barely catching the two figures standing back in a shadowy area near where the secret door leading to the back halls was situated. One of the figures gestured to her, calling her forward, and Ursa gave a little sigh of apprehension as she altered course to head towards them. Two boys stood in front of her, the same height and build, the only thing separating the two being the colors of their robes and the mole that she knew was hidden under Guiren's mask.
Guiren was slouched against the wall, a wine skin held firmly in his left hand, the two glasses they'd stolen lying long abandoned next to his foot. He was dressed in plum robes that made the silver mask on his face stand out; it was a little crooked, and she narrowed her eyes, wondering exactly how much wine was left in the skin.
Ozai stood in contrast next to him, resplendent in gold and scarlet from head to toe, marking his station as Lord Azulon's son and the golden child of court. Both of their masks covered their faces from forehead to chin, and she felt a pang of sympathy for the pair – they weren't to remove masks until midnight, but she at least had a little bit of comfort in that her mask only covered her eyes and nose.
She bowed to the boys, wondering if only she was feeling the awkwardness and if she could get away quickly; there had been negotiations between the three families for her hand in marriage, and only within the last three months was it decided that she would be married to Ozai instead of Guiren. Her parents had been ecstatic; Guiren was Azulon's nephew by his eldest sister and had a legitimate claim to the throne on the off chance that Azulon, then Iroh, and then Ozai died along side of any sons they might have, but securing her betrothal to Ozai put her – and therefore her father, her brothers, and her uncles – that much closer to the throne.
As pleased as she was for her family's station, she was rather nervous; she'd known Guiren for much of her life and didn't know Ozai nearly as well. Though she didn't dare confess her feelings to anyone, Ursa had spent many hours unsuccessfully consoling herself that it was only natural that she'd prefer to marry someone more familiar to her.
It wasn't that she thought she'd be unhappy with Ozai – everyone in court was charmed by his great spirits and bright countenance. At just fourteen, he was already a powerful firebender and skilled swordsman and the absolute apple of his mother's eye as he danced around court and did as he pleased. He bored easily and she relished the challenge that he presented, to keep him entertained and interested in marriage, all the better to keep the both of them from rotting in stagnation.
Guiren offered her the wine skin but she refused it with a polite smile and a gentle hand wave, doing her best not to show her internal mortification – to be caught drinking wine in the corner with two boys like some common harlot, why, her father would have her whipped.
Guiren shrugged and pulled his mask up a bit – just over his mouth, the chin of the dragon resting firmly over his nose, both suffocating and blinding him – so he could take a sip before shoving the skin into Ozai's hands.
"Lady Ursa," he smiled clumsily before tapping the top of his mask above his forehead so it fell back over his chin properly, "I do hope you'll join the princeling and I here at midnight for the unmasking?"
Ursa's eyes widened behind her mask when she heard how informally Guiren was referring to Ozai. The gilded mask on his face inclined towards Guiren for a moment, though his body language seemed to indicate that he wasn't angry; instead the prince merely turned to Ursa and added, "It is my wish."
She could feel the heat rising in her face, along with the desire to kick off her slippers and slouch against the wall next to Guiren, even as she remembered her father's words this evening before they had left the house: "When midnight strikes, I want you on the opposite side of the room from the prince. Your dowry and betrothal is secure, but the prince is flighty and I won't have him getting bored with the face he's going to see for the rest of his life a full two years before you actually complete the contract."
Ursa demurred, "I would like to join you at midnight very much, Prince Ozai. I shall have to see what my family directs me to do." She then bowed again, murmuring, "Excuse me," and fled as quickly as she could, searching for her mother and attempting to outrun the feeling of slight uneasiness that was starting to rise in her chest.
Despite her every attempt to remain nonchalant, Ursa couldn't help jumping when a hand clapped down on her shoulder as she mingled through people, looking for her mother and the other ladies. One hand flew to her chest, the fan clutched in her other one snapping open indignantly when she caught sight of her older brother, two glasses of wine precariously balanced between his fingers.
He held his hand out, inviting her to take one of the glasses, and she eyed him suspiciously. "Where are Mother and Father?" she asked.
Katsuro snorted. "Father is off with the Fire Lord and Prince Iroh and the other men, drinking their whiskey and smoking Earth Kingdom cigars and Mother is with the other ladies-in-waiting, carefully combing through any gossip that might be of worth to us."
Ursa sighed in relief and took a deep drink from the glass-
"Did I see you with the young princes over there?"
- and choked. She gagged and coughed while Katsuro patted her on the back. "Yes," she answered, when she could finally breathe again. "Prince Ozai requested that I join him for the unmasking at midnight."
Her brother was well aware of her father's orders. "Did he command it?" he asked curiously.
"He told me it was his wish."
"Hm." Katsuro seemed unconcerned. "Well it could be worse. You know Mother will be going on and on tonight about the women asking why Suzume and I haven't had children yet."
Ursa snorted into her wine. Katsuro's eyes wandered off through the dance floor, picking out his wife of three years. Ursa could almost see his lip curling in distaste under his mask; there could not be a more loveless match than between the two, but her dowry had been large and Katsuro had been of marrying age. It was for the good of their families, and Ursa had silently sworn to learn from her brother's example.
"There won't be any children until I can convince her to sleep with a slipcover over her face," he muttered darkly, and Ursa let out an unladylike shout of laughter, which she promptly turned into a coughing fit, bringing up her fan to cover her mouth.
"My, little bear, it appears you've had too much to drink!" her brother said lightly, taking the glass from her hand and draining what remained before holding out a hand. "There's only a quarter of an hour before midnight. I shall keep you busy until then and help you avoid the prince."
"And I shall help you avoid your wife," she murmured in reply, taking his hand and letting him lead her back out to the dance floor.
Even the best-laid plans have flaws, and their plan was not among the best; once the first waltz ended they were interrupted by Guiren, who wanted to cut in and dance with Ursa. She looked at her brother uncertainly – he inclined his head, offering her to him – before taking Guiren's partner, a noble woman who threw her arms around his neck flirtatiously.
"How much has she had to drink?" Ursa whispered, scandalized.
"No more than anyone else here tonight," Guiren answered back easily. Ursa had to bite back a comment about his own drinking habits; his words were distinctly sloshed and he was leaning heavily against her, his feet a beat behind the step in the music.
A turn in the music gave her a glimpse of Ozai, practically glittering as he danced in the center of the room, trading partners with every turn.
"…Your head turns towards him now," Guiren said, a wistful tone to his voice.
"He will be my husband," Ursa pointed out. "It's only right."
"You don't regret your betrothal?"
"Never," she answered firmly, knowing that if Guiren remembered their conversation in the morning he would report it directly to Ozai himself. "I would still want to marry him even if-" she stopped herself abruptly, leaving the 'even if my family had not arranged it' unsaid.
"He's been watching you all night," Guiren informed her.
Ursa felt the blush bloom under her mask and was grateful Guiren could not see it. Sensing an awkward shift in her mood, he said cautiously, "I'm happy that your mother did not order you with the ladies-in-waiting for the unmasking."
"Me too," she answered, her face automatically turning towards the center of the floor again. "I would do anything my family asked of me, but the ladies-in-waiting can be so boring. All they do is tear one another apart under the guise of friendship. It's boring."
She must have had too much wine to allow a slip of the tongue like that – the Fire Lady herself commanded the ladies-in-waiting, and Guiren's mother counted among their numbers. Her blush deepened and her eyes dropped to the floor, but Guiren merely laughed.
"You would do anything your family asked of you, is that right? Even if it means sitting, bored to death, with a bunch of old hens?" he asked teasingly.
Her reply was serious. "Anything. Anything my family asks or needs of me, I shall do."
He was quiet for a long moment, and before he could reply the gong rang, signaling midnight and the cue for everyone to remove her masks. Ursa slid hers up her face, relieved to get the wretched thing off of her. When she looked up to Guiren, however, her gentle smile abruptly shifted into something closer to horror.
Ozai was beaming at her in Guiren's plum colored robes, the dragon mask cradled in one hand. She wasn't the only one to be let in on their little trick either; a surprised murmur was running through the crowd and beyond Ozai she could see Guiren, still in the middle of the floor, taking a wide, sweeping bow with long hand gestures that rudely knocked the lady he'd been dancing with under the chin.
Directly behind Ozai was her brother, the same look of shock she knew was on her face mirrored on his.
"I just wanted to see you again," Ozai said cheerfully, and Ursa quickly schooled her face into one of joyful surprise.
"I'm honored, Prince Ozai," she said, bowing low before him. Part of her was dying to ask how long he'd been disguised as Guiren, but instead she said, "I am happy to see you again."
His grin grew even wider, and he leaned close to her and said in a sobered voice, "You know, I will be part of your family soon-"
Whatever he was going to finish with was interrupted; her brother recovered from his shock and stepped between the two. "Prince Ozai!" he said jovially, standing firmly in front of Ursa. "It's a surprise to see you all the way over here."
Ozai's face looked a little displeased, if unsurprised at the intrusion. He shrugged. "We must keep these masques from getting tiresome somehow." Then, peering around her brother's shoulder, he addressed Ursa again. "I hope you'll join the court when we go hunting this week, Lady Ursa."
Ursa knew her face must have been flaming red, and she couldn't beat back the tiny thrill in her chest at the knowledge that he desired to spend more time with her, even despite the little, tiny, rational part of her that worried that he only wanted her because she was new and exciting and that he would soon tire of her and change faces. She would have to do her best to prevent that. "I will have to see if my parents will allow it."
He blinked at her, an amused smile growing on his face. "And if I ask it of you?"
Her eyes dropped to the floor, remembering her words from before and the resolve she had felt. "Anything you ask of me, I shall do."
Could I have possibly based Katsuro anymore off of George Boleyn?
If I still have any readers at this point, I'm surprised. I have one more one shot coming out – featuring our favorite water tribe warrior – and then I have a short Escapade, and then it's back to finishing off Shadows.
Sugarland, I do hope it's up to your expectations!