-o-o-o-o-
"Well, dear one, where should we walk today?"
Ursa's tone was low and fond, coupled with a look of maternal tenderness (a unique content that comes with readying one's child for the day) originating from the gently turned corners of her mouth. Zuko had his hands secured around a red cloth bag tied with gold cord; and in a tone of utter seriousness gave his reply.
"The pond – with the turtle-ducks."
For four years of age he spoke clearly, and was always quick to specify where he wished to conduct their daily exploration of the palace gardens. His mother never denied this small taste of control – even at so young an age, Ursa felt a particular conviction to begin easing her child into the responsibilities of decision-making, as more likely than not his future would be wrought of courtly paperwork or the devotion of several years to the military. Iroh had his divine right; and thereafter, Lu-Ten…the bloodline winding its way up to royal possession of the Fire Nation was long indeed, and Zuko's turn in the yoke of kingship was not an immediate one.
"Very well then," Ursa replied brightly, securing a final gold button.
Young Azula, settled against the hip of her nursemaid, emitted a sharp cry of dismay as her mother stood to leave, and extended her arms beseechingly.
"Zula can't come," Zuko said firmly from below. "She scares th'ducks away, and tries to splash water on 'em." He held up the red cloth bag. "Look Mama – I have bread for the babies, too. What if she makes 'em swim away?"
Ursa, having extended a gentle hand to stroke the downy head of her younger child, turned with a small smile to Zuko. "Now, now – we'll have our outing, you and I. Azula and I will spend the afternoon watching your first bending lesson, but this morning is for us."
Zuko beamed brightly – both at the assurances that, for an hour at least, he'd have his mother to himself; and at the reminder of the important occurrence taking place that day, a milestone in the life of every aspiring firebender. The first lesson; a step into controlling the talent and need to pass the potentially overwhelming capabilities of will and strength into a tangible form. But it left any young mother biting her lip. Fire was not obedient.
"Before we return, would you be so good as to pass along a luncheon invitation to Prince Ozai?" Ursa called to the nursemaid, who performed a multitude of other services besides cradling young bodies and hushing infant cries. "It's a momentous day – it deserves attention from this family."
Receiving a complacent nod, Ursa caught up Zuko's hand and pushed back the papery door leading directly into the fragrant Eden that was the royal garden. The perfume on the wind was heavy and the sun powerful in that early taste of summer. As Master Cho Ming had explained to both Ursa and Ozai in the planning of Zuko's bending tutelage, early summer was the ideal time to begin training. The heightening of heat and sunlight made firebending a more easily grasped task for young minds.
Of a sudden, Zuko tugged his mother's hand sharply and extended a finger to an overhanging tree branch, clad in a thick coat of green foliage. Ursa's gaze drifted upward to the large bird with bright red plumage preening itself calmly above; the object of Zuko's sudden fascination. Chuckling softly, she bent down to be level with the small boy, intrigued at how awestruck the child had suddenly become.
"Do you know what that is?" she asked quietly.
"A bird."
"Very good – but do you know what kind of bird?"
Zuko shook his head, gaze unwavering.
"It's called the 'Great Agni'…"
"At school, they make us pray to Agni," Zuko suddenly interjected. His mother nodded calmly, stood up, and took Zuko's hand again.
"They're said to be good luck," Ursa then remarked wistfully, thoughts straying to the potential dangers her son would be encountering that afternoon. Instinctively, she squeezed her young one's hand – once, twice, three times.
"Papa says – he said that there's no such thing as luck. How come, Mama?"
Ursa smiled down at him with a shrug, (and it surprised Zuko very much, that his mother would not know something) stating plainly, "Your father is very independent. He does not like to rely on anything, or anyone – not even the idea of luck."
"I don't need any luck either."
The firmness with which this declaration was made unnerved the young mother. His father was certainly teaching him things, whether he was aware of it or not…
"Oh no?"
Again, Zuko shook his head. "I won't need it today, either, Mama, 'cause Papa says bending's somethin' I'm born with."
"I'm sure he's right."
"I just don't wanna get hurt."
"Of course not, dear. I don't want you getting hurt either," she replied with a gentle tweak of his nose.
"I want to be as good as Uncle – he told me to train real hard, and not to let the fire spook me, even when I'm makin' it very, very big."
"Zuko, I don't think you'll be making fire as large as that today. This is the first step, and it takes time to become fluent in bending. Much like Azula had to learn to walk recently. Do you remember?"
He nodded; then, beaming up brightly at his mother, said, "But someday, Mama, I'm gonna be just as good as Papa, and Uncle – I'll be so good that…that…"
Pushing back a stray piece of her child's hair, Ursa mused breezily, "That the Avatar himself would be no match for you, right?"
"Oh, he's not comin' back – Grandfather said so."
"I suppose that's true," she confirmed lightly, adding with a mischievous grin, "But you never know, do you?"
Still smiling, Zuko shook his head excitedly, then raced ahead, calling out pleas for the baby turtle-ducks to wait for him.