Greetings fellow Avatards! Well I finally did it. I started on my own Ursa story beginning with her murder of Azulon to her meeting someone very important (Ahem, Dragon of the West Anyone?) outside Ba Sing Se. Rated T for safety. No lemons, but definitely some references to sex and even mild physical abuse. I always imagined Ozai to be the worst husband ever, and you will see that reflected in this story in a way I think the cartoon was unable to do due to the K-7 rating.
A couple of things about Ursa: she is a lot like Lady Macbeth. If this woman fascinates you consider reading the Shakespeare play MACBETH, or at least google the "Out Damned Spot Speech." I borrowed from that speech in order to bring you the scene in the rowboat (you'll see what I'm talking about). She is a very mysterious character, which is part of her appeal, so I took a lot of liberties with her. I also made up a new form of firebending that Ursa uses here (Do the words "1 2 3 CLEAR!" mean anything to anyone?)
At any rate, please enjoy and tell me if you want me to continue.
The Plight of Princess Ursa
Ursa had never considered herself a killer. Never imagined herself to have the very potential, and now suddenly she was transforming before her eyes from the demure princess who endured a loveless marriage and physical abuse for the sake of her family's honor into a seething murderess.
She sat down at her vanity and studied her tear streaked face. She had seen her face a thousand times, and yet something about the way she appeared tonight was profoundly different. She leaned forward, looking into her own eyes.
Could they really be hers?
For in them she saw something primal, something born of both necessity and cruelty, a something that was unsexing her before her very eyes...and yet delivering her to the very essence of what it meant to be a mother.
And suddenly she knew how she would do it.
No knives, no weapons...nothing that would leave any scars or traces... and certainly no poisen.
No. She wanted the satisfaction. She wanted to lay her hands upon him and use them to take his very life from him... A smile came to her lips as she chose her method. It was perfect, flawless, and it would leave no trace of attack. It would be her divine vengeance for the threat upon her son.
Azulon was old. She could wield her art and produce no mark. The physician would look at him and determine that his heart had simply stopped, he had incured a natural death...and yet, she would have satisfaction, Zuko would be safe...and Ozai would have the throne.
A lump formed in her throat. She wasn't so sure about that last one being a good thing. She would much rather Iroh...
Her heart fluttered a little at the thought of the kind older brother with whom, against all odds and her better judgement, she had fallen in love. She bit her trembling lip and shook her head, willing her mind to be free of her thoughts. When in your life have you ever reasonably expected happiness Ursa? It has never been about happiness, always about duty. Marrying Ozai: duty. Hiding the bruises with ochre and makeup: duty. Saying nothing when the servants snuck in maidens to Ozai's bedchamber from conquered villages: duty. And tonight? She shook a tear from her eye. Tonight was simply about being a mother.
She rose from her vanity and strode with determined stealth down the palace halls.
Her thoughts slowed when she reached the great doors of the Fireloard's bedchamber, and she paused to watch the torchlight dance across the elegantly carved wooden doors. She was aware of the cool marble against her feet and the warmth of her blood cascading through her veins, the blood of a mother turned murderer.
And then she gently parted the doors.
The old man was awake in his bed.
He looked at her with glaring eyes and opened his mouth to speak.
A thin stream of lightning, tiny, precise, and deadly, emitted from Ursa's right index finger, striking him neatly in the heart and shocked it into a rhythm that his body could not sustain for long.
He could only watch with gaping eyes as the Princess climbed onto his bed. "You will sign this" she told the Firelord. "You will sign this immediately, and then I will remedy your heart," she lied.
His eyes seemed to agree with her, so she shocked him again. So skilled was she in this form of firebending, the only real type she practiced, that she could free or paralyze certain parts of the body without leaving a mark. In a time before technology, it had been useful. She had been proclaimed a healer hearts. She was also skilled at resolving neurological deficits, since these two systems, she had discovered, seemed to run on electricity. It was the first time she had used her talent for darker purposes, and she was in that moment, able to use it so perfectly that only his right arm could move.
He spread a weak signature across the parchment.
Satisfied with the old man's final act, Ursa laid her hand over the man's heart and completed her dark deed.
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"It is done," she told Ozai later after saying goodbye to her children. She handed him the parchment.
The Prince unfurled it, and a dark smile spread across his lips. It declared him the sucessor.
"I have done what you were not man enough to do, now you keep your end of the bargain!" she bit out . She would never see her husband again, if she could even call him that, and she could not resist having the last word. It flowed like sweet, divine vengeance off her lips, justice for a life of suffering and strife.
Ozai allowed her the last word, but he by the spirits would have the last blow. And he did; with a smoldering firebent ring he branded her right cheek.
Ursa collapsed on the floor, gasping for a moment. She brought a hand up to the right side of her face and fingered the smoldering brand. All of her wanted to take his life. She had already done it once this evening, why not once more?
But her thoughts of Zuko stopped her. She stood slowly and glared at him with her golden eyes. "Just make good on your promise. Do not harm my son!" she hissed, and she ran out of the palace.
# # # # #
She had shocked him, not drawn blood. So why did her hands look so red in the moonlight? Why did they seem crimson and tainted? She dipped them in the water and the small canoe rocked a little at her frantic cleansing.
The servant escorting her to Roku's island noticed her obsessive cleansing and at long last said something: "Princess, please, I'm certain your hands are clean by now."
Ursa stopped, suddenly realizing the foolishness of her actions, jolted into reality by what he had just called her: "Princess."
Her saliva was acrid in her throat. "Don't...Don't call me 'Princess..'" she stammered, looking up at him through tear stained eyes.
He returned her gaze, confused, genuinely wanting to help her but unsure of how to remedy whatever madness had taken hold of her. Servants of the Fire Nation were loyal to a fault. He had been told to take her to the temple at Roku's island, and nothing else. It is unlikely he knew of the events that transpired that night and probably would never know the full story. It wouldn't do to tell him either..the less he knew, the better for him and his family.
Ursa's gaze fell, and she spied an extra oar in the rowboat. She picked it up and slowly, determinedly, began to row.
"Princess, I must protest."
Ursa looked up at him, her gaze half threatening. "Please, do not call me 'Princess.' I am no Princess..." Her gaze fell again, and she suddenly went from half threatening to weak and vulnerable in the moonlight. "Not anymore..." Her rowing became steady and effective.
And suddenly her actions became very meaningful to her servant.
He turned and joined her in her task. He would not speak to her again, he decided. But he would help in the only way he could: by rowing and silently murmuring prayers to the spirits and the Almighty Universe, God of all, to ease this poor woman's suffering.
At length they reached Roku's island and the temple of the past Avatar. There a fire sage named Shyla met her at the docks and escorted her to a small room of the temple for the night. "In the morning one of the war ships will take you to the edges of the Earth Kingdom." he told her as she settled in. "What you do from there is your own destiny. " He strode towards her and handed her a bag of pure gold coins, "But no matter what Princess, I wish you the best of luck, and all the happiness in the world. For we shall miss you here in the Fire Nation."
Ursa couldn't help but smile at him and the others who seemed so accomodating. She silently wondered how much they knew of what had transpired that night, but at length decided it probably wasn't much.
Her last thought before darkness fell was that this was the last time she would ever sleep in her native land.
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The voyage to the Earth Kingdom was uneventful. Ursa spent most of her time at the bow of the war ship, watching the vessel cut through the waves, lost in her thoughts. Her sorrow was of course ever present, but at least the red had vanished from her hands and something else stirred in her, a something prompted by the feeling of the wind tossling her hair and robes: freedom. It was a strange and exhilerating sensation, unlike anything she had felt, and the salt in the air amplified it.
She was embarking on a great adventure, a new life, or at least she could...but despite all of this great possibility, a concern from her old life still haunted her. Zuko. She didn't trust Ozai. How could she after everything she had been through with him?
But still, what could she do? Surely everything that could be done had been done. Had it?
She turned from the waves and the bright view of the setting sun to the main deck where soldiers were milling about. This was a portion of the Fire Nation army being transported to support one of the various occupations in the Earth Kingdom. An officer approached them then and called them to order. His strong voice bellowed above the sounds of the sea. His mannerisms reminded her of someone.
And sudddenly Ursa thought of something else she could do for her son, and maybe even for herself.
She would find him.
The Dragon of the West.
Iroh.
The man who in another world, a better time, she could have married and lived happily with. Of course this would never happen now, but he could still help her. Even if he hated her for her involvement in dethroning him, she knew he cared for Zuko. Perhaps he could be there even if she couldn't.
She smiled to herself and turned back to the waves. Perhaps all could be well in time.
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She followed the Army as far as she could and then purchased an ostrich horse and some Earth Kingdom clothes from a humble village shop. The troops all bid her goodbye, and she gave her old Fire Nation garb and jewels to one of the troops who she knew from unintentional easedropping to be newly married. "Send these to your lovely wife, and let her know how lucky she is," she told him. For she knew Ozai had never spoken of her in this way.
The soldier looked sorrowful and confused when he took the clothing, and the rest of the troops reflected his gaze. Ursa was well loved among all the Fire Nation soldiers and commoners. As she mounted her ostrich horse she called out to the soldiers: "May the spirits bless and keep you all!"
And that was the last time any Fire Nation commoner would ever see Ursa, Princess of the Fire Nation for many years.
It took her about a day's ride to reach Ba Sing Se's outer wall, and she rode around the edge until she saw the red tent city of the Fire Nation Army, the camp where the Dragon of the West had abandoned his campaign. The sun was starting to set, and soon it would be the perfect time for hiding in plain sight.
She paused at a stream just outside of camp and unloaded a bag from her ostrich horse. From it she removed a short but breathtaking green and brown silk kimono, and she noted how its low cut revealed the curve of her breasts. Her hair twisted easily into a loose bun that she secured with lacquered chopsticks, and she slipped into a pair of embroidered green shoes. She finished with her eye makeup; it was far heavier than she was used to, but highly appropriate for the part she was about to play. One dabb of pefume and a gossamer green facial veil completed her look: the look of a prostitute. She smiled at her reflection, and walked her ostrich horse to the camp, a mere 300 yards away.
Though the seige had been called off the camp was still bustling with activity. The logistics of disassembling a military campaign of this magnitude were involved to say the least. The transport of supplies and personnel home was no easy matter, and would take more than a month to complete.
Therefore the red roof tents still stood proudly, and campfires still raged. Soldiers, officers, merchants, and of course prostitutes, roamed the grounds moving like quite shadows in the torchlight.
Ursa eyed the colorful consorts and said a silent prayer of thanks for their catcalls and fanfare. If not for their presence, sneaking in would prove more of chore. Dressed as one of them, she could go in practically unnoticed, and she did, swerving through the tented city to one tent in particular. She stopped when she came upon the elaborate tent and banner, a red background upon which a golden dragon was emblazoned; the banner ofthe Dragon of the West. She waited in silence until he emerged.
His age served him well. He was still muscular, like the last time she had seen him, and he was one of those men who looked very striking with gray hair, but he was different somehow. His posture was slumped, his eyes downcast...and then she remembered the loss of his son. Her heart fluttered a little at the sight of him, and for a moment she wondered if she would have to shock herself.
Remembering her part, Ursa emerged from the shadows and called out to him: "Care for a night of pleasure my Lord?"
Iroh did not turn to face her, but he did stop. "No thank you my dear. I have no taste for such a thing; I have just suffered a great loss, but I appreciate the offer."
Ursa smiled to herself. Leave it to Iroh to never be rude, even to a prostitute. "Perhaps some comfort then?"
Iroh still did not turn. His weight shifted in the torchlight, and he seemed to be considering her offer. In addition to sex, consorts often provided services of "comfort" to soldiers who were traumatized or had gone through the pain of losing a friend. Such services varied, and could include anything from a night of merely holding the woman, to a simple massage, to an hour of just having someone to talk to. "What is your price?" His voice was small, weak, the voice of a man broken with grief.
Ursa choked back tears in order to answer him. "Only your silence."
Silence? Iroh turned to face the harlot. Her hair was black and she had fire nation eyes. A green veil hid her nose and all the features below it...but those eyes. Those eyes he would know anywhere..."Ursa?"
Ursa undid one side of her veil, letting it fall away fom everything but the brand left by Ozai. "Hello Iroh."
Iroh rushed to her, pushing her into the shadows between his tent and that of one of his colonels. He put his arm around her protectively and his back to the rest of the camp. Sure that no one had seen them he whispered urgently "What are you doing here?"
"Iroh" Ursa spoke, and her voice was like that of a choking sparrowkeet. "Please, we can't talk here...No one else must see me..."
The Dragon of the West nodded, and with her veil replaced, Iroh tugged her into this tent. The Fire Nation troops guarding his quarters only gave them sleepy, half interested glances. Though the Dragon of the West rarely engaged in such activities, it had happened on occasion, and no one would say anything to him in light of the loss of his son.
"No disturbances," Iroh told them, and the guards nodded obediently.
He led Ursa to the back of his tent where he slept and pulled the curtain in front of his bed in order to shield them and make the cherade more believeable.
Ursa let the veil fall away for the second time, and Iroh gasped.
"By the spirits," he said, going from shock to anger in an instant. "By the spirits Ursa, what did he do to you?"
"He threatened Zuko. Iroh, it all happened so fast...when we heard...when we heard about Lu Ten, Ozai made a bid to Azulon for the throne. Azulon demanded that Ozai kill Zuko as punishment..and Iroh I..."
"No Ursa.." Iroh interrupted her gently, and Ursa noted that his eyes were fixed on her right cheek. "I mean...what did Ozai do to YOU?" Despite Ursa's best efforts, Iroh still managed to touch her on her cheek, and despite her better judgement she let him. His touch was nothing like Ozai's, forced and loveless. His touch was gentle, caring, and sensuous. It made her feel like a teenager again first experiencing the wonders of love.
Ursa gasped and stood up, uncomfortable with the affection both because of her feelings and because of the fact that she was simply unaccustomed to such attention. She began to pace, tears streaming from her eyes. Iroh watched her with patience and concern. It wasn't the first time he had seen marks on her from Ozai's fury, but it was the first time he had seen a brand of this nature. It made him want to vomit.
"You don't get it," she finally choked out, "I...I took the throne away from you Iroh! I did it to protect Zuko, and I'm not even sure I was able to do that...I have Ozai's word, but what good is it? What good has it ever been?" She collapsed on the bed next to him, sobbing.
Iroh climbed into the bed beside her and his arms found their way around the Princess. He held her with her back to him as she then proceeded to tell him everything from the very beginning.
She expected him to be furious, to throw her out of the tent and into the waiting arms of the guards outside as punishment. Instead he only listened pensively, patiently, and tightened his grip on her. At length she was silent, and the two of them could hear the badgerfrogs beginning their nightly chorus outside. Both were keenly aware of the way they laid in the bed, as lovers might, and yet none made a move to remedy this. In fact, they had accepted it, wanted it, and even needed it in some way. "I would have done the same for Lu Ten," he whispered in her ear.
"I don't expect you to forgive me," she replied as he began to stroke her hair, "and what I am about to ask of you I don't even deserve. But I find that I must, in spite of everything. I must ask you...to protect Zuko."
"You have my word," he said without hesitation. "I will never leave the boy's side. Never, unless my hand is forced. And Ursa, you must know...I forgive you. It is a fool who would choose power over love. I am no such fool."
The magnitude of his words hit her with ferocity and her heart gave a leap. Neglected for the last seven years, Ursa could just vaguely remember the art of seduction and what it felt like to make love. But as she pressed her lips to his, memory returned enough for her to do so with a man she truly loved for the first time in her life.
So there it is people. URSA HAD A MOMENT OF HAPPINESS (TEAR). THE DRAGON OF THE WEST SCORED! YEA, GO UNCLE! SHOULD I WRITE MORE? Let me know please. Reviews, PM'S, anything.