I f you think you've read this chapter somewhere else before, you probably have. It was on my other account, Flame of Hikari, in a different story involving Azula and her paststuffs (so if something seems a little off, that's my explanation. I did some minor editing). I've taken the story down to save myself any trouble that might spot. They probably won't, but it satisfies me to do this anyways. I may update later this weekend, depending on how many people have seen this oneshot before... I don't want you guys to get bored, now, do I? Nope nope nope!

Edit: Fixed the last two paragraphs. Funny, it wasn't like that until I posted it. But thanks for pointing it out, guys! Oh, and Ogro pointed this out to me--I didn't know that Ozai never served in battle... if he did, I had figured that it would have been in his teenage years, and probably with a naval fleet, hence his connection with Zhao. Hmm. And, I changed a bit of the wording (not the dialogue) to better fit, considering that there were a couple of mistakes that I should have looked over before. Ack. Being a perfectionist killzzzz.

Like Father, Like Daughter
By Nikkel
(c) to Nickelodeon, Michael Dante DiMartino, and Bryan Konietzko

Borne in His Image I

The firelight melted and swayed with warmth upon the crimson walls, garbing the room with eloquence and safety, fuzzy shadows kissing the lad in his bed. It was the night's wishes as the sickle of pale moon hung above the land, silver rays overseeing the dipping valleys and high mountains, keeping a careful watch upon the little boy. Through his open window came the soft breeze from the sea, gently caressing his face as he remained up upon his mattress. The sun had set and it was time for sleep. And like a heavenly goddess she appeared through the doorway, her ever-loving smile creasing her lips. Her presence alone brought her son security, and she sat down on his bedside.

Her hand reached out and stroked his shoulder; even at the age of two, she could see that he was growing into a handsome young man. No, little Zuko was becoming more than a man, but a Prince. Lady Ursa could easily see that her son was elated to see her affection for him, as he giggled as she rubbed her long fingers through his buzz of black hair. And to think that one day he would become a grown man, standing as a proud symbol of their country...

"But you'll always be my little Zuzu." Ursa leaned forward and kissed her only son on the forehead. At this Zuko lay down beneath the scarlet silk covers, golden eyes shimmering from the oil lamps at his nightstand. He snuggled his head into the goose-down pillow.

"I love you mommy." Zuko yawned, staring tenderly up at his mother. Not taking her eyes off him Ursa dimmed the oil lamp down to a tiny flame.

"I love you too, honey. I love you too."

"As do I."

The dark voice paused the summer wind. With an awkward silence Ursa looked over her shoulder, and Zuko poked his head up to find the man that had ruined their goodnights. He leaned against the doorway so that the light could not reach him. The only thing visible about him was the reflections are of what was supposed to be eyes. Zuko glanced up to his mother; a crease of worry on his face, seeing that affectionate smile of his mother's erased from his face. She had not yet turned back to him as the Noble raised a powerful finger, beckoning her away from the child and to him. Without another word or look at Zuko, Ursa stood up, as if being pulled by a string. His thoughts confused, Zuko watched as his mother and father evaporated into the abyss, so he could not get a word out against them.

The Fire Noble's strong arm wrapped around his beautiful wife, taking several steps back, so that their son could not see or hear them. He placed a kiss upon her cheek, letting out a heavy breath.

"He is rather special, isn't he?" Ozai said. Ursa nodded in agreement, but she apparently did not have a verbal response. She knew that there was more to his words then he was letting on.

"Very special indeed. But I am beginning to doubt myself, dear Ursa. My father had come forth with the same thoughts, and the conclusion he made was a positive one, I believe. It is that perhaps something tragic were to happen to Zuko. He stands the next in line behind Lu Ten, and Lu Ten is behind my brother Iroh."

Ozai turned Ursa with him and they began to stroll through the hallways and towards their own living quarters. The torches lit their way, the soldiers that constantly stood bowing respectfully bowing to the royal family. They were there to protect and serve; not listen and contemplate what the two had planning.

"The country is at war, and has been at war since my birth. The other nations are fighting back well. With our recent struggle at the Serpent's Pass I cannot say that the war will lift anytime soon. General Iroh, in company with Lu Ten, fight bravely as you and I speak."

They had entered the master bedroom. It was formidably dark, no candles or oil lamps present; only the flood of the moon. It spilled through the wide window, the drapes billowing, touching the edges of the bed that stood almost dead-center. The sheets, somewhat unlike the rest of the palace, were white: A pure, obscure, ivory. With silent footsteps the Noble Ozai walked his wife over the obsidian carpet, his voice continuing to resonate.

"And because they are at war, my Ursa—my dear, sweet Ursa—the stakes of them perishing in battle is high. If either of them were to be killed, then that would place me as the next Fire Lord. And then, my successor, our beautiful son Zuko. However, the idea of a second child has crossed my mind. I am a second child myself, but look at what I have obtained. I have already fought my years in battle while my brother fights them now. I have already gained the knowledge of how these politics of ours works while Iroh suffers to understand our marxist ways. But most of all, Ursa, I have you, and no one but I can have you."

Ozai craned his neck and placed his lips fully on his wife's, preventing any words that she had wanted to speak. His voice came no more, just his lustful breath upon her neck, feathering kisses all along her collarbone. Those feathers turned into vampire bites and Ursa found herself moaning, a mix between pain and pleasure, as his warm hands moved into her robes and removed them, running his palms up her thighs, sweeping her off her feet and placing her on the bed, loving her so. The woman raised her hands to comb them through his charcoal hair, but he suddenly grunted and grabbed her wrists, throwing them at her sides. She looked up in alarm, and he merely smiled, a phoenix flame in his eyes.

Ursa didn't know whether the look was supposed to frighten or comfort her as he took a complete hold of her, keeping her wrists locked into place, like restraints. It became instantly clear that she would have no say in the making of this child, her second one, for Ozai was to do everything he wanted to. But Ursa did the best she could, leaning forward when he kissed her, fiery and dominant, even when he pushed her back down.