~+~Four for a Boy~+~
It wasn't fair.
As always, it was the second child receiving the brunt of the punishment. It was always the second child who was looked down upon. It was always the second child!
"You dare suggest that I betray Iroh? My first born? Directly after the demise of his only beloved son? I think Iroh has suffered enough. But you…your punishment has scarcely begun."
Ozai smashed a fist into the wall in front of him.
It wasn't fair!
How dare his father even suggest that his fool of an older brother deserved the throne over him. His brother shamed himself at Ba Sing Se. He was a weak dolt who couldn't even take over the Earth Kingdom stronghold when he had the most powerful weapons, machinery, and military men in the world at his disposal. And then he goes and holds his head in grief after the death of his only son. How can a man without an heir and without a backbone take over the nation?
Why him?
This was just what he hated. Every time his father came this close to praising him—heaven forbid maybe even nodding his head in approval of him—something always came up that constituted him being treated like absolute trash.
The Fire Prince remembered the day when he was showing Azula to his father. The absolute beauty of her Firebending was overwhelming for him. The amount of precision and accuracy she held at the ripe age of eight years old was simply frightening—and at the same time is was highly satisfying.
He had gone through such lengths to bring Azula up with the best education of politics, military tactics, and Fire Nation history. The fact that the girl just happened to be remarkable in her Firebending was a huge plus. All in all, he was breeding her to be a ruler. A feared ruler. His heir. And he would be sure to rub it in his father's face that he had actually done something right for a change.
He saw the achingly small smile cross his father's features as he watched his granddaughter perform impeccably in her training. She was a prodigy. Everyone in the room saw it. And he thought that for a second his father was actually—surprisingly—proud of him.
If only Zuko hadn't gone up there and made a fool of himself two seconds after.
Putting his embarrassment of a son beside, Ozai had an heir at his side. A capable heir at that. An heir that Azulon appeared to approve of. And what did Iroh have to show off? A dead son and a military embarrassment.
So someone needed to explain to him—and fast—why Iroh was given the privilege to be Fire Lord and Ozai was stuck with his punishment.
Killing his first born child.
"You can't do this," Fire Princess Ursa cried. "I see how you've been looking at him lately…you're thinking about it aren't you?"
Ozai turned quickly to his wife and pinned her own with a gaze that was made out of pure red, hot fire. "Then explain to me what other alternative I have if you're so against this. This is my father. The Fire Lord. Do you know what would happen to me if I disobeyed him? Do you know the shame that would befall me—this family—should I not carry through with this?"
The Lady Ursa was struggling with the tears that were preventing her from speaking clearly. "He's just a small boy!"
"A useless one if you ask me," the Fire Prince spat out cruelly. "He can't even handle the simplest of Firebending routines. He's slow in his studies, he's constantly clinging to you instead of trying to do better. If you ask me he's nothing but an embarrassment."
"He's doing just fine!" the Fire Princess shouted out. "Just because he isn't up to par with your daughter and your standards doesn't mean he's incapable."
Ozai snarled as he brought his fist down against the wall of his quarters again, this time causing the wood underneath his fist to visibly crack. He clenched and unclenched his fingers, visibly trying to find another solution to the problem.
Evidently there was none. None that he could see anyway.
His wife was being nothing more than a nuisance.
"Listen to me," the Fire Prince ground out carefully. "There is nothing we can do. This is the way it has to be."
The Fire Princess leaned against the wall in order to look her husband in the face. She glared at him through her tears. "So you're just going to give up on our son? All of us have to suffer due to your mistake?"
That did it.
Ozai growled loudly and slammed both of his hands on the wall in front of him, effectively boxing his wife in with his arms. He swore to Agni that he had almost struck his wife. And somehow the idea of shutting her up—of showing his authority—of showing somebody that he was strong and capable—seemed terribly satisfying. Maybe a large bruise on the woman's face would show her to stop questioning those with more power that she and to just take life how it came to her.
It might have been terribly unfair. But that was all anyone could do in this world. You just had to take the cuts and burns as they came. Even he didn't question it, which was why he was going through with this in the first place.
His wife was the only one that didn't seem to get the hint.
"Listen to me," Ursa whispered, trembling under the sadistic gaze of the man she loved. "I'll do anything. Anything to save him. We can't let this happen. I won't allow it."
Look at her.
Begging.
He seemed to know where his son got his pathetic nature from. He mused slightly at her desperation. He almost laughed at the fact that she was actually begging to do anything to save their weak son. Sometimes, he failed to understand her logic and he also failed to understand her drive. In fact, he didn't understand her at all. Lately, it just seemed that the momentary love that seemed to be there at their wedding day all but disappeared. And it was things like this—defiance towards those more powerful than she—that seemed to further prove the disgust he felt for this woman as of late.
The only reason he showed her any affection was because she gave him the best daughter a man could ask for.
Honestly, at this point he was fed up of her meddling and of her complaints. He would do anything just to keep her quiet and have her sit on the side lines like a good little wife and let him deal with the drama that revolved around him and his father.
"Fine," he spat out. He started at his wife long and hard as he tapped a calloused finger against the damaged wood behind him. "Since you're so set on this…what do you propose we do?"
