By Zuko's first birthday, Azulon grows impatient with Ozai. The Fire Lord hadn't reacted well when his son had voiced his concern of Zuko's questionable bending ability, but as time had passed, he only grew bitterer towards his son and grandson. He considered Ozai's choice to spare his son a sign of unforgivable weakness and an inability to stick to his own word, and that disdain for Ozai's choices showed clearly when he calls him to the throne room.

"You know what you're here for, Prince Ozai."

"I do, and I promised Ursa I would give her more time." Ozai says, sitting in front of his father, the menacing wall of flames separating them roaring loudly, "One is still early for a firebender to show their ability."

"You and your brother both showed at least some inclination towards firebending as infants. There was never any question of your power, and as such, I allowed you to live. If there had been any doubt, I would have killed you without another thought." Ozai glares at the ground in front of him, not daring to do so directly at Azulon.

"Father, I—"

"Fire Lord Azulon." Ozai's pauses, blood running cold, and he finally breaks his glare at the floor to stare up at his father, "You've lost your right to call me father with this disgraceful weakness." The Prince grits his teeth, fury—pain, he was hurt, but he buries the hurt under righteous fury—making his breath come out in an angry huff.

"Fire Lord Azulon, I don't intend to let him live if he doesn't properly firebend by his—" He'd promised her six years, and that was still on the tighter side, "Third birthday." He hopes to see his father—the Fire Lord, he mentally corrects himself—relax somewhat, but he only tenses further, the flames between them rising high enough to nearly lick at the ceiling. The heat reaches Ozai so strongly he feels it might burn him, and he raises a hand to shield his face from the immense light and heat.

"And how do I know you won't be just as weak in two years, and refuse to do what you say then, as well?" His father's voice, less imposing with age but still strong enough to hint at his power, echoes in the large throne room, reverberating ominously.

"I was never weak, and I never will be." Ozai answers, "I didn't spare Zuko because of any affection for him. I spared him because the Fire Sages assured me that he would be a great firebender—the greatest firebender alive, should I let him live." Lies. He was lying through his teeth, as he'd noted that the Fire Sages hadn't actually spoken of his capability as a firebender, only stating that he wouldindeedbend. But the lies seem to sate the Fire Lord, and the wall of flames slowly die down.

"Greatest firebender alive?" Ozai nods, trying to see through the blinding fire and read Azulon's expression, "Better than yourself? Better than your brother? Better than me?" Ozai stills, eyes flitting away from Azulon's momentarily. His father had been a prodigy in his youth, able to summon lightning and the ever-elusive scorching blue fire without effort or thought. Even Ozai, at the apex of his power, had never been a match for his father despite his own prowess as a master bender. You had to be born with that kind of ferocious power.

"Yes." His only hope for that being true is if Azulon dies before Ozai can be caught in his lie, "Yes, I'm sure of it." The noise of the heat crackling between them is the only sound in the grandiose room as the elder seems to think this over. Ozai can feel sweat gathering on his forehead, and he wipes at it nervously. He'd lied to his father before, numerous times, but never about something so important.

"Very well, Prince Ozai." He realizes he'd been holding his breath, "You're dismissed." He stands, bowing respectfully before turning to leave, "One more thing." Ozai stops mid step, his back still turned to his father. He eyes the door longingly.

"If you're lying to me, and he isn't the bender you claim him to be, you will wish your punishment was as kind as Zuko's." Ozai doesn't speak, simply nodding and continuing to the doors numbly. They close behind him with a note of finality that chills him.

Moonlight streams in from the open windows along with the brisk air, splashing light across the restless Prince's face as he stares at the high ceiling above him. He tugs at a loose thread on his pillow absently, thinking.

For once, their roles are reversed. Ozai tries to sleep, shifting restlessly while Ursa sleeps soundly, unaware of her husband's predicament. He couldn't take his rage out on her as much as he desperately wanted to. It was her fault; after all, that he hadn't done away with Zuko as soon as he was born, and now he was facing any range of horrible fates to protect a child he didn't even particularly care for. If he took that out on her, though, his plans to win her obedience would crumble, and he'd come much too far for that to happen. Half a year of breaking her down piece by piece and she was nearly the perfect wife, but one false step could destroy all of that. If he was going to punish her, it couldn't be for an indiscretion she so strongly believed in.

The Earth Kingdom still awaited her, after all, and he'd be damned if he lost her to his own brother.

So he kept his rage to himself, forcing him to toss and turn in the sheets with the unspent energy. After another hour of sleeplessness, he eventually gives up on sleep entirely, rising from the bed and grabbing his lightest and most informal robe, sliding it on and tying the sash around his waist. He turns to look down at Ursa as he secures his mussed hair back into a knot, a cloud of steam leaving his nose as he huffs out an angry breath. She was infuriating, really. Even as tamed as she was, there were still imperfections that caught his eye when he looked at her. She was stubborn and foolish, going to lengths well beyond reason to protect Zuko and defy Ozai simply to spite him.

Yet something about this game he was playing with her kept him intrigued. She was a puzzle for him, something to be solved and won, and the fact that every time he thought he was close to winning, she'd change the game again, kept him interested in playing. Kept him interested in her, and perhaps even made him love her—

He interrupts himself, confused. Love? He couldn't let himself believe his own lies that he told her, and as he leaves their chambers, he shakes his head as if the thought was the most absurd thing that had ever crossed his mind. Love made you weak and vulnerable. He wouldn't allow himself to love her at the expense of his own strength. He could get far more use from power than love.

The doors to the nursery open slowly and silently and he slips in through the opening before shutting them behind him. The room is plunged into darkness and a small flame ignites over his palm to light his way as he crosses the room to the crib sitting in its center. He realizes that he's never gotten this close to Zuko, and he tilts his hand along with the accompanying flame to better light the sleeping child.

He looked the part of a Fire Nation Prince, at least. Dark hair had grown in thickly on his head; the unruly locks sticking up in odd directions. It's matched with classically pale skin and, when he opens his eyes groggily, the bright golden hue of the signature royal eyes. Yet despite his physical appearance being everything it should be, he still feared that he had none of the makings of a proper heir. The weakness of his mother was stronger in him than what was good for either of them.

As the toddler shakes the haze of sleep off, Zuko's eyes focus on and follow the flame in Ozai's palm, entranced. Ozai notes this; shifting his hand back and forth and watching his son's eyes follow the fire. A good sign, he supposes, that he didn't fear the flame. All hope would be lost, then.

"I've made some fairly big promises about you, Zuko." He says, the small flame dancing around his fingers intricately as he twists his hand. Ozai looks down at him once again, finding his gaze still firmly locked on the fire.

"Promises I don't think you can keep. You weren't born with the tools for this." He frowns, knowing his conversation partner wasn't able to comprehend even a small fraction of what he was saying, "Which isn't your fault, it's your mother's. But whether it's your fault or not, you have to be a firebender." He feels insane, talking to a toddler. Maybe he is.

"You don't have to be a prodigy, but…at least be able to do it. If you're my son, you'll at least be able to do basic firebending." He extinguishes the flame with a flick of his wrist, sighing, "If you can just be proficient at it, I can hope for banishment instead of something worse, at least." He mumbles out, resting his forehead on the rail of the crib hopelessly, turmoil tearing him apart. He'd never felt so helpless, so confused. He didn't know how to deal with a situation he couldn't control and it was tearing him apart. His dream of being Fire Lord had seemed so much closer when he'd married Ursa—he was marrying a descendent of the avatar for Agni's sake, that had to mean something—but it all seemed to be slipping away from him.

He could simply kill Zuko right now and end this, regain his father's respect and his chance at the throne, but he would lose Ursa entirely. No game or ploy he could play would win her after that, and she would have no reason not to fight him more strongly than ever. Worse than that, she could escape into the massive Earth Kingdom and he would only end up losing his father's respect once again for not being able to control his wife. He lost his father's respect and his honor in both scenarios. Unwittingly, and certainly unknowingly, Ursa had Ozai in a far more compromising situation than he had her.

No matter what he did, he couldn't win unless Zuko could bend. He had no choice but to put all of his faith into that and hope against hope that his faith was well placed. He snorts, disbelievingly. Faith and love, two things he'd never put stock in, were now quickly becoming his only tools in regaining his father's respect and obtaining Ursa's obedience. Maybe he was weak, he certainly felt like it in this moment.

And suddenly, a flash of light catches his eye. He jolts upright, turning to the nearby candle, mostly decorative; it had never been lit before, to find it spark to life with just the weakest of flames before it fizzles out in a puff of smoke. Ozai looks to his own hand first, confused, before he looks down into the crib. Spontaneous fires were an early indicator of an untrained firebender.

Ozai conjures a larger flame above his palm again, and Zuko stares in rapt attention.

"Do that again." He orders, and the toddler stares up at him in confusion, "I need to know you did that. Do it again." Uncomprehending, Zuko sits up and reaches out for the fire in Ozai's palm before his father closes his hand into a fist in frustration, extinguishing the flame.

"The candle!" He exclaims, startling the child as he leans over the edge of the crib and glares down at him, "Light it again! If you're not the failure I thought you were, you'll be able to do that again so just…you have to do it! Do it, Zuko!" Frustration, hurt, anger, all of it was boiling in his blood viciously and he was taking out all of it on the uncomprehending child. It was unfair and cruel, but he can already feel some of the manic energy starting to be relieved.

The candle lights suddenly, the flame brighter and stronger and accompanied by a harsh whimper followed by a short cry from the boy. It stays lit this time, the fire strong enough to light the wick. A grin splits across Ozai's face before he looks back to his son. Zuko looks terrified and upset, fresh tears on his cheeks and he's shifted to the furthest corner of the crib away from his father, but Ozai's gotten what he wanted.

It wasn't much, hardly anything at all, really, but now he had some basis for his hope that perhaps he wasn't lying. Perhaps he'd be able to honestly tell his father that he'd produced an heir more viable than Lu Ten and finally sway Azulon to see the same destiny Ozai saw.

Satisfied, he leaves the nursery and returns to his bed. He settles beside Ursa and sleeps soundly.

Ozai has taken a sudden interest in Zuko, and it unsettles Ursa. She'd preferred his disinterest to him watching their son like—well; she wasn't sure how to describe how her husband looked at Zuko. His gaze was constantly judging, searching for something. She can only guess that he's still intent on discerning Zuko's firebending ability, but she couldn't comprehend why he'd be doing so this early. Zuko had barely even started making attempts at walking, yet Ozai expected firebending from him?

She can feel his eyes on them as she sits at the edge of her favorite pond in the royal gardens. She holds Zuko in her lap as he reaches forward and disrupts the water joyfully. It's an unseasonably warm fall day, and she'd shed Zuko of his usual restricting royal clothing to allow him to play in the cool water. He pauses in his splashing as he catches sight of a turtle-duck, reaching out to it and tugging against her grip on his waist.

"Ah!" He calls out, trying to wriggle out of her grip, but she holds onto him tightly. He lets out an annoyed noise, chubby fingers tugging at her hands as he attempts to loosen her grip. She hears the crunch of leaves underfoot as Ozai shifts.

"Is there something you want, Ozai?" She finally asks, looking over at him. Standing completely still with his hands held behind his back underneath a tree in the shade from the broiling noon sun, one could be forgiven for thinking he was a statue.

He's silent for a long moment, focused on Zuko in her lap. The child lets out a frustrated cry when Ursa's hands don't move from his waist and the turtle-duck starts to swim away at the noise.

"He lit a candle last night." Ozai finally says, stepping out from the shade and into the sunlight. It seems to bring him to life, suddenly, the radiant light reflecting off of his hair and skin as if he was part of the sun himself, "It wasn't anything impressive, but it was enough." She smiles, hugging Zuko to herself. He squirms, letting out another annoyed cry.

"So he is a bender." Ursa is almost smug, settling her son back down and letting him have just a bit more leeway to play in the water. His feet meet the water and he slides from his mother's arms onto his hands and knees in the shallow water.

"He is, I think. Of what power, I'm not sure, but we need to encourage his bending as much as possible." Ozai says as he approaches, looming above them, "He needs exposure to the sun. He needs to learn by example. And most of all, he needs you to stop coddling him." Her smile suddenly falls, and she scoops Zuko back up out of the water as he starts to venture too far.

"I don't coddle him. I'm his mother, I protect him." Mud sticks to Zuko's limbs, and spatters his face. She collects a piece of her robe between her fingers and cleans the mud off of his face.

"Coddling. Firebending is fueled by rage and drive. He responds best when negatively reinforced, all firebenders do. It'll make his fire stronger." She was well acquainted with Ozai's 'negative reinforcement.' Her grip tightens on Zuko, protective and terrified for the toddler in her arms.

"You aren't going to touch him." She says definitively. She doesn't fight him, not anymore, but this is one thing she will face punishment for. She'd promised herself, long before she'd even met Zuko, that she would spare her child from any of Ozai's brutality, no matter how justly deserved it was.

"I won't." Ozai says dismissively, "I'm going to find a suitable master to teach him. But you can't undermine their teachings by coddling him every time he comes crying to you."

"He shouldn't come crying to me at all!" She stands, holding Zuko against her chest, "Zuko can learn firebending on his own time, and with a master that will understand that." Ozai's mouth sets into a hard line, hands clenching dangerously at his sides.

"This isn't up for discussion, Ursa." Zuko looks between them, confused, pressing back against his mother and away from Ozai, "Either Zuko learns firebending very quickly, or we try again for a child that's more capable than him." She blinks, surprised. Her first pregnancy had been hard enough; she couldn't fathom going through it again.

"That's not necessary. I'm sure if you just let him develop on his own terms, he'll be a great bender. Just let him work at his own pace. He's still working on learning to walk." She turns from him and Zuko immediately relaxes once his mother stands between him and Ozai. She's immediately stopped, though, as she tries to retreat from him, his hands grabbing her arms with bruising force and yanking her back against the wall of his chest. Her back meets him roughly, knocking the breath out of her.

"Do not take that tone with me. Remember what I've taught you, and remember that I know what is best for him when it comes to firebending. You have no authority as a nonbender." Ursa grips Zuko as if he's her lifeline, looking up at her husband over her shoulder. Her skin throbs underneath his rough fingers that feel like steel wrapped around her arms, but the pain is distant, "Do you understand me?" Zuko whimpers, burying his face in her neck and gripping at her robes.

She had to try to protect him, even if it came at her own expense.

"I get to pick his master." His grip grows tighter on her arm, and she lets out a short, pained noise, fearing he may just break her arm.

"Did you not hear me the first—"

"I get to pick his master, and in exchange, I will stop 'coddling' him. I'll let the master do what he deems necessary. I won't interfere." Finally, Ozai's fingers loosen on her arm.

"Fine." He says, fingers suddenly turned soft and stroking the spots he'd bruised in what would look to be a caring gesture to an observer, "But I do get the final decision on his instructor after you choose. I won't allow a weak master to hinder Zuko's progress." She tries to pull away from him again, but his grip returns on the exact same spot, sending dual bolts of pain through her.

"I understand," She says breathlessly, "I just thought he had more time. I don't know why you're pushing this so early." His breath is hot on her ear, and she shivers as his cheek brushes hers.

"There are circumstances you aren't aware of. You can't comprehend how much I spare you. How much stress you and Zuko cause me." She feels a flash of guilt for fighting him, resting a hand on Zuko's back, "You don't understand what I've risked for him to live." His own hand slides over Ursa's on Zuko's back, and she can practically feel her heart skip a beat. There's a promise of violence in his grip as he tangles his fingers in hers.

"Don't make me regret it, Ursa."

A/N: Again, I can't thank people enough for reviewing. It's really inspiring to read! Sorry this one took so long, though, it really fought me when I was writing it. The whole focus on Ozai is really not as easy as it seems. Updates might be a bit slower, weekly instead of daily, but I will keep updating! ~Jiggle