Author's Note: Well, after a while, it seems I have returned to The Lightning Bud with another chapter of Pre-Urzai goodness! XD

Just as a stall to possible questions, I want to clarify Ursa's definition of self-defense. Since we all know how lethal Fire Nation women can be when highly trained, it was quite clear to me that, because of their ongoing state of war, the Fire Nation would be sure to educate almost every noble in the art of defense. Ursa would have been given training that would be considered substantial to an Earth Kingdom girl...but very basic to a Fire Nation girl. Hence, her quick reflexes and grasp of body mechanics is not nearly as extensive as Iroh's or Ozai's, but more than any girl from another nation might know

Song: Lovers in Japan by Coldplay .com/watch?v=zCxsrqfu_4E (it may seem a bit cheerful, but I thought of it more for the end of the chapter; it's a foreshadowing song, perhaps)

"Come on, say it!"

"No!"

"Say it, Ozai!"

"No," Ozai gasped, his fingers locked onto his older brother's arm, which was currently blocking air to his windpipe.

Iroh laughed and squeezed his arm muscles; Ozai gagged. "Who's the better bender between us, brother?"

"M-me!"

"Wrong answer!" cried Prince Iroh joyfully, and with a quick bend at the knees, he flipped Ozai over, sending the boy's body into the sand of the training ring. "Sometimes you're a little slow, you know that?" he chuckled, dusting off his hands in a showy manner.

From his position on the ground, Ozai glared at Iroh, massaging his neck. "I hate you."

In response Iroh dropped into a fighting stance. "Prove it, baby brother."

Ozai rose to the challenge, literally. From where she sat on the palace steps, Ursa could see the younger prince's feet leave the ground as he executed an aerial kick, just missing his brother's face. "Nice try!" said Iroh, dancing backward under his brother's furious assault. "But you need to see your target, not just my face! You need to focus on where to strike!" Ozai kept pressing forward, his feet heardly touching the ground as he attacked.

Ursa had watched the two princes spar several times in recent years; it happened to be a favorite pastime of the other nobles' daughters, and she usually got dragged into it. There were six or seven girls surrounding her now, all fanning themselves in the summer heat and tittering excitedly at the battle unfolding before them. Ursa herself was interested in the fighting arts, especially bending; she only knew basic self-defense, so both seemed a mystery to her. She watched the princes and their friends skirmish with something like envy in her heart.

Even though she was content to be a lady, she couldn't help but think that boys got to have all the fun.

"Look at how strong they all are," whispered Sai, Ursa's younger cousin. "They've been fighting for at least ten minutes without a break!"

"I think Wu Shen is so cute," said Sai's sister, Imir, her dark eyes on one of the boys nearest to them. "So tall, so pale..." Ursa hid her embarrassment behind her fan as her cousins sighed in unison.

The inevitable question followed. "Who do you like, Ursa?" asked Sai, sliding further down the steps and rearranging her robes to cover her legs.

"No one," answered Ursa, too quickly. She blushed as her cousins raised their eyebrows at her.

"Yeah, right," said Imir. "Come on, Ursa, do tell: who is it? Someone other than Wu Shen, I hope."

"They're all good fighters," Ursa said, evading the question.

"Is it Dao Tai?"

"Oh, no!" Ursa said, before she could stop herself.

"Why not? He's cute!" said Sai, sounding surprised at Ursa' reaction.

"He's so..." Ursa waved her fan. "So...brawny."

"And?"

"He doesn't have strategy."

"So?"

"So he can't be very smart," Ursa whispered in her cousin's ear. "And don't you ever repeat that," she warned, hitting Sai lightly on the leg. She had to keep her the younger girl in line.

"I don't care if he's smart, he has an estate on the mainland and one in the colonies. And look at those muscles!" As if on cue, Dao Tai seized his training partner, lifted him over his head, and slammed him down into the sand. Sai giggled while Ursa laughed at the cloud of dust swirling around the dazed boy.

"Shhh," whispered Imir, "don't look now, but I think the princes are watching us." As one, the girls raised their fans in front of their faces, peeking through the holes in the fine metal blades to spy on the two brothers.

"We see you looking!" cried Prince Iroh, with a roguish wink. Ozai took this opportunity to tackle him from behind.

"Ooooh," Ursa and her cousins groaned. They winced as Iroh hit the ground with a heavy thud. Pinning his older brother's arms behind his back, Ozai wore a rather wicked grin in victory. For a moment Iroh scowled, then his expression broke into a smile, and soon he was laughing.

"You got me, brother," he said, rolling over as Ozai released him. "But next time I dare you to try that same move from the font."

"Do I look stupid to you?" retorted Ozai.

Iroh spat out a mouthful of sand with a comical grimace. "Water break!" he bellowed, propelling himself to his feet. "In this heat, we really should have taken several by now."

The girls around Ursa fluttered excitedly as the boys in the training ring stopped their sparring. "Quick, quick, let's go!" squealed Sai. She and Imir jumped up and ran to the large pot of water sitting unobtrusively on the dais behind them. A group of other eligible young women had beat them to it and were already ladling the cool spring water into cups.

Ursa rolled her eyes and sat back, creating a personal breeze with her fan. She didn't feel like breaking into a sweat over a silly ritual that only meant something to girls like her cousins. The boys didn't care who gave them a drink; they just needed some water. And unless they happened to be serving someone like Prince Iroh, who was an incurable flirt, any girl who told herself differently was being foolish.

It turned out that the very flirt she was thinking about had decided to pay her a visit on the steps. "Lady Ursa," called Prince Iroh cheerfully, giving her a polite bow before he took a seat, "I do hope you feel all right in this heat?"

Ursa rose and bowed low to her prince. "Thank you for your concern, Prince Iroh. You honor me."

"Any man who is not concerned for a young lady such as yourself does not deserve to be called a man," said Iroh.

"You are too kind, sir," said Ursa, smiling in spite of herself. Prince Iroh was actually at least ten years older than her. He was also married and had a son. This was why Ursa felt no impropriety in their conversation; it was a playful exchange between a man and a girl too young to be considered a woman. Besides, the heir to the Firelord treated every female with gallantry. Ursa was no exception.

Prince Iroh nodded gracefully at her, smiling. "If it's not too much trouble, I would like to request a cup of water for myself and my brother."

Ursa glanced over at the water pot. It had been staked out by six or seven hopeful girls and many swaggering boys. It was no place for royalty. "I would be happy to serve you, Prince Iroh."

"Thank you."

With a small sigh, Ursa rose, tucking her fan into her sleeve. Even that small movement brought a bead of sweat into her eyes. She flicked it away and walked to the water pot, where she had to wrestle two cups from one of the other girls. Once she had poured a suitable amount of water, she gladly left the others to their flirting.

"It is fortunate you didn't put yourself through that ordeal, sir," she told Prince Iroh, handing him his cup with a bow. "For a minute there I thought I might be lost in the fight, but I prevailed."

"You are a hero, Lady Ursa. Perhaps I should arrange for you to receive a medal of valour?"

"Oh, Prince Iroh," Ursa said, with a giggle that sounded suspiciously like Sai's.

Chuckling, Iroh raised his cup to his lips. "Ozai!" he called, waving one hand toward the training ring. "Stop exerting yourself and come get some water!"

As the younger prince approached Ursa took out her fan again, more for something to do than to cool herself off. She lowered her eyes when she felt the prince's gaze on her, but her fan flipped faster of its own accord. With a start she realized he was probably waiting for her to bow. "Forgive me, Prince Ozai," she said hastily, standing to drop into a bow.

"Lady Ursa," said Ozai, "this is a garden, remember?"

"And you are still a prince."

Ursa clapped a hand to her mouth as Iroh let out a surprised laugh. Ozai raised an eyebrow at her. "That was not what I meant to say," Ursa said, blushing crimson.

Iroh slapped his knee, wiping his face on his sleeve as his laughter died. "Oh-oh-that was perfect!"

"Perfect," repeated Ozai, still gazing at her. Ursa turned her head in deference-

And saw the man in the shadows of the garden as he drew out short pieces of metal from his coat. As Ursa watched he took careful aim and pulled back his arm. Too late, she saw the pieces of metal form into daggers glinting in the sunlight. They whistled gently as they came, making a straight path toward the closest target: the bare back of the youngest prince.

Ursa's heart dropped into her stomach.

"Ozai!" Iroh had apparently seen the man, too, for he leapt from his place on the steps. Ursa knew he would not be quick enough to stop the assassin's knives.

Before she knew what she was doing, Ursa lunged forward, seizing Prince Ozai's shoulder, swinging herself around to face the assassin. Her hand snapped up of its own accord, and with a blinding glare and a metallic thunk, she felt herself falling backward. Ozai caught her.

"Lady Ursa!" Ozai's expression seemed torn between horror and relief.

"I'm all right," Ursa said breathlessly. As proof, she raised her trembling hand. Her fan was gripped by shaking fingers. Its fine metalwork was dented and twisted by the knife nestled between its blades.

"Seize him!" Iroh's roar rose above the sudden commotion in the garden. Guards wasted no time arresting the man with the knives. "Take him to my father, but interrogate him first," the eldest prince commanded, his eyes hard as he watched the man struggle to escape. "We must find out who sent him."

"There will be no need for that."

Everyone in the garden dropped to their knees. Ursa bowed with her face to the ground as the Firelord approached, the hem of his crimson robe crawling into her vision. After a moment the princes stood, and the rest of the young people followed.

"Release him," Firelord Azulon told the guards. With incredulous frowns, they did so. The man did not wait to hear the Firelord's judgment; he dropped his knives, turned, and ran for the garden wall. Secretly, Ursa could not blame him, but her heart surged with fury even as she acknowledged the thought. Surely, surely this man would not be allowed to run-

Hissing and crackling, blue lightning streaked across the training rings, racing to engulf the assassin. It nipped at his heels, almost teasing him, before traveling over his body. Ursa threw her hands over her eyes just in time. The man's screams still drove themselves into her mind, and she shuddered involuntarily. She felt a hand on her shoulder but did not dare take her hands away from her face to see who was comforting her. The smell of burned flesh made her clap the edge of her palm over her mouth; she didn't want to be sick in front of the princes.

The Firelord was first to break the sickened silence that had fallen over the garden. "That, my sons, is how you deal with traitors." Ursa risked a glance at him from the corner of her eye and saw that his hands were still wreathed in blue energy.

Iroh was next to speak, his voice hesitant and rather hoarse. "I had thought, perhaps, we could have learned his motives for attacking us."

Ozai was staring at the area of the garden where the charred body lay. Ursa, however, pointedly looked away. Her stomach roiled within her. She realized Iroh's hand was still on her shoulder, and with a quick glance at her face he removed it.

The other young nobles in the garden did not dare speak; it looked as though some were afraid to breathe. Ursa turned and handed the ruined fan and dagger to Ozai. "For you, my prince."

"Eh?" Ozai seemed unable to formulate words.

"The daggers were clearly meant for you," Ursa said, just low enough so the Firelord wouldn't hear her. "You may have them, now, and my fan as well. I'm afraid none of them are of any use to me, anymore."

Ozai stared at the tangled mass of metal before looking back at her face. Ursa stared back, expressionless, but she couldn't keep the hysterical giggle from hiccuping out of her. As soon as she made a sound the prince turned, trying his best to choke back his own dazed laughter. "It's a shame," he said choppily. "You seemed fond of that fan."

"If you will permit me to say it, Prince Ozai: as a servant of my country, I am more fond of you than of any ornamental fan." Ursa sighed. "Even if it was my grandmother's."

And, before she could lose her sudden, mad confidence, she bowed deeply and sank back to the water container, joining her open-mouthed cousins amidst a crowd of terrified boys.

There was something about saving a man's life that made it impossible to fear him, Ursa thought, her eyes still fixed on the youngest prince. She knew, somehow, that she would no longer avert her eyes from his gaze again.