Best Laid Plans

Ozai liked his office.

It was quiet, for one thing. The children were not allowed in here, servants would not dare enter unless summoned - or sent by his father to fetch him, though that was a rare occurrence. When he needed peace and solitude, his office was always a place where he could find it.

It was also where he felt most accomplished. True, he was unmatched in his prowess as a firebender, but so long as the Fire Lord kept him far from any battlefield, the honor those skills won him was hollow. It was Iroh who would win the glory of victory in the conquest of Ba Sing Se, and any duels or staged matches Ozai won would be paltry feats by comparison. But so long as Iroh remained far from court, he was of little use to their father in the day-to-day governance of their nation - and on that matter, the Fire Lord did deign to delegate responsibility to his younger son as he himself grew older.

Responsibility, if not honor.

Still, in reviewing budget plans, taking careful notes on proposed laws, and writing summary memos on all sorts of issues for his father to read - agricultural production, tax revenue, crime rates, military officers up for promotion and ministers due to retire - Ozai felt he had learned much of the trade of being Fire Lord. Between that and his obviously superior firebending skills, it only remained to convince his father, somehow, to see that he was the worthier heir, and not Iroh.

So yes, Ozai liked the quiet, productive time he spent in his office. When it was quiet and productive.

Ursa did not usually sleep so late into the morning.

She did not feel the need to rise at the crack of dawn like her firebending husband - or any of their firebending children - but she still liked to get an early start to the day. She usually had breakfast with Ozai and the children after he had finished his morning meditation and firebending practice, then spent some time with just the children when Ozai went to work in his office, until the older ones started their lessons for the day with their various tutors and the younger ones were left in the care of the governesses in the nursery.

But this morning, when Ursa reluctantly pried her eyes open, she knew it was already well past breakfast time.

She had good reason to be tired, so she wasn't surprised. Still, she felt a little annoyed with herself as she got out of bed and dressed. The maid who helped her said nothing, as a good servant should, but Ursa imagined the judgement behind her impassive expression anyway.

She ate alone, without much appetite, and then inquired after the rest of her family. Ozai was already at work, office door firmly shut, which Ursa knew meant he would not emerge at least until noon. The older children had just gone to their lessons. That left only the little ones in the nursery, but Ursa decided she would stop in to see them, at least, before lunch.

She found Shinzo and Denzu in the midst of a squabble which both Li and Lo were doing their best to break up. Nothing the two elderly governesses said could have quite the effect of their mother's unexpected appearance, however, and both boys were soon sobbing their grievances into her lap - Shinzo had taken Denzu's favorite toy, Denzu had pinched Shinzo in retaliation, and each was now convinced of the other's utter wickedness.

Ursa consoled both boys, and gave them both a stern admonition that brothers ought to learn how to share with each other. "And speaking of brothers," she said, squeezing Denzu a little closer as the last of his hiccoughing sobs died down. "Where's Raizu?"

Denzu said nothing. Shinzo blinked in surprise, looked around, and then shrugged. Raizu hadn't been part of their little disagreement, and neither of the little boys had cared for anything beyond that in the moment.

But Li and Lo were also looking around the nursery in alarm.

Ozai usually got more work done in the morning.

He'd started out alright, rising from sleep at his usual time for meditation at dawn, followed by firebending practice. Ursa had still been sleeping soundly when he left her in his bed, but that was her usual way - and given how little sleep either of them had gotten, hardly surprising. Ozai, on the other hand, had always prided himself on being able to stick to his demanding schedule regardless of his wife's whims.

When she hadn't shown up for breakfast, he'd resented it slightly. Partly because it left him alone in the face of the chatter of six children - Azar had kept going on about some modifications he had made to his hunting bow, Shinzo and Azula had engaged in a boasting match about their respective firebending abilities which Zuko had tried pathetically to engage in, one of the twins had made a mess of his food, and the other had kept asking after his mother in his soft baby voice. But partly Ozai had also been resentful because he was beginning to feel his own exhaustion after his rigorous morning firebending regime. That, too, he blamed on her.

So when he had sent the children off to their governesses and shut himself in his office after breakfast, it had been even more of a respite than usual. Yet he'd found himself yawning through his paperwork, losing track of his place as he read through the reports on his desk, and struggling to write a coherent sentence in his memos. There was simply no denying it - he was tired.

He called for one of his aides and ordered a pot of strong black tea to be brought to him. It helped clear his head, and he returned to his work with renewed focus - only for another distraction to unexpectedly present itself. Something - or someone - was tugging at his robes as if trying to climb up onto his lap.

Abruptly dropping the scroll in his hands and pushing back his chair, Ozai looked under his desk with a scowl. Sure enough, there was one of the twins - the quiet one, not the messy eater. Denzu? Raizu? Why on earth had he let Ursa give them such similar names? Either way, he was looking up at Ozai with wide eyes and a solemn little pout, his chubby little hands still stretched out towards him.

Ozai reached under the desk to drag the boy out, banged the back of his own head on the top of the desk in the process and bit back an oath that Ursa would certainly not approve of him saying in front of one of the children, then failed to stifle an even stronger oath when he saw that the teacup on his desk had spilled all over the scroll he had been reading.

This was Ursa's fault, all of it, and so it was her name that he shouted in frustration as he attempted to one-handedly rescue the important government document from his spilled tea.

Ursa had left Shinzo and Denzu in the nursery with Li and Lo, and begun her search. Zuko and Azula were with their firebending masters. Azar was with his archery instructor. None of them had seen Raizu. Ursa had checked all the family apartments, the kitchens, the gardens, every one of Raizu's usual hiding places, and he had not turned up. Now, she was beginning to worry.

Her anxiety only increased when one of her husband's personal aides came running towards her. "Princess Ursa," the young man greeted her with a hasty bow. "Prince Ozai...requests your presence…" He was short of breath and clearly rattled, which suggested to Ursa that Ozai had not put the request quite so nicely. "In his office…" the young man added.

Ursa took one last cursory look around the garden, and then set off for Ozai's office, not running as the servant had, but at a nice brisk pace nonetheless. Whatever her husband wanted, he would have to let it wait, and help her look for their son first.

But when she marched past the rest of Ozai's nervous aides and let herself into his office, her search came to an end - for there was Raizu. Ozai had a firm grasp on the back of his shirt and was holding him at arm's length.

"Your son…" he began angrily.

But Ursa didn't let him finish. "You found him!" she exclaimed, rushing forward to scoop the little boy into her arms. Ozai quickly let him go. "It was naughty of you to run off like that, Raizu," Ursa scolded as she hugged him. "Mama was worried."

"Whichever one he is," Ozai said sullenly, waving a tea-stained scroll at her, "get him out of here before he does any more damage."

Ursa frowned at her husband's attitude - but looking him over and taking in his beleaguered appearance, her heart softened a little. He did hate to be disturbed when he was working, which was why the children were not allowed in his office. And knowing him, he must have pushed himself to stick to his strict morning schedule in spite of how tired he clearly was, and was now feeling the consequences.

"Alright, Raizu," Ursa said, still looking her husband in the eye pointedly. "Let's leave Daddy in peace now."

The boy did not protest as she brought him back to the nursery - Raizu hardly ever complained or fussed, so unusual for a child of his age. Denzu and Shinzo were happy to see that their brother had been found, and Li and Lo relieved that no harm had come to their wayward charge. The elderly governesses offered Ursa profuse apologies for having lost track of the little prince, but Ursa forgave them easily since all had ended well. They had had their hands full with the other two, after all.

It wasn't like Ursa didn't realize just how much of a handful her children could be.

Ursa had chosen to throw her own schedule to the wind and spend the rest of the day with the children, while Ozai had stubbornly stuck to his, which meant he had not seen her again until the whole family had dinner together. This went better than breakfast, with Ursa managing to keep the messy twin in line - Ozai was fairly certain now that one was Denzu - and effortlessly directing the older children's conversation so that they did not all clamor for his attention at once.

After dinner she had put the children to bed, and Ozai himself had retired not long after - it had been a long day, and he was determined to be up at dawn again tomorrow better rested. But just as he was beginning to drift off to sleep, he heard the sound of a door being gently opened and shut, and then felt his wife slip into his bed beside him.

"Ursa," he said firmly as she pressed herself close to his side. "I am losing patience with you."

"That's alright," Ursa replied coquettishly. "I won't keep you up late this time." But the kiss she placed at the base of his neck suggested she had other plans.

With a sigh of frustration, Ozai shifted and wrapped his arms around her, mostly to keep her still and forestall any other devious ideas she might have. "I mean it," he insisted in a low voice. "We are neither of us as young as we used to be, and frankly it is...unseemly in a woman of your age…"

"That wasn't what you said last night," Ursa whispered back without a hint of shame, but Ozai studiously ignored her and went on.

"...and a mother of six children already, no less…"

"Seven," Ursa corrected him in an even softer voice.

"A mother of seven children," Ozai amended. "And…" His tirade trailed off into silence as he did a quick mental count. Zuko, Azula, Azar, Shinzo, and the twins. No, that was definitely six. Which meant…

Ozai released Ursa from his arms and rolled away from her with a tired groan. "Again?"

"Again," Ursa confirmed, sidling back up to him and resting her head on his shoulder. "You shouldn't be so surprised, my love. You know very well what causes it."

Ozai pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand. "I'm too old for this," he complained - though whether this complaint was addressed more to her or to Agni himself he could not say.

Either way, it was Ursa who laughed at him. "You're far younger than your father was when he had you," she pointed out.

"That's different," Ozai muttered irritably. And it was different. His father had only had one son, with two daughters dead already and the third weak and sickly, when Ozai had come around. His own birth had been necessary. He and Ursa, on the other hand, had five healthy firebending children, plus the one nonbender who seemed unlikely to die anytime soon, either. And the Fire Lord had already warned him, last time…

"We don't have to tell the Fire Lord just yet," Ursa said as if reading his mind. She wrapped one arm over his waist, a gesture more comforting than sensual.

Ozai sighed again. "He will find out eventually." And he would be less than pleased, of that Ozai was certain, and once again it was Ursa's fault…

"Ozai," Ursa's gentle voice broke through his dark train of thought. "Are you happy?"

"No," Ozai replied honestly.

"That's alright," Ursa said, holding him more tightly. "I understand." And Ozai knew she did, for he had told her all about what the Fire Lord had said the last time she was pregnant, the unsubtle insinuations he had made about how other couples kept from "breeding like rabaroos". They had argued about it, and Ursa had won, as she always did on these matters. "You're afraid."

"I am not afraid of my father," Ozai insisted. And in the darkness, where he didn't have to look her in the eye, he could almost convince himself Ursa would believe it.

At any rate, she did not argue, but merely gave a noncommittal hum in reply. "I did promise not to keep you up late," she said, shifting slightly to make herself more comfortable. "Let's not worry about it any more tonight."

Ozai agreed, and with a few more whispered words of goodnight, they lapsed into silence. Soon Ursa's even breathing told him that she had indeed fallen asleep, but in spite of his own exhaustion, Ozai found himself too anxious now to put his mind at rest.

Seven children, he thought. The situation was becoming desperate. Action would have to be taken, somehow, before the Fire Lord learned of this. He would have to do something soon, to increase his standing in his father's eyes, if he hoped to avoid his wrath for this blatant failure - worse, this blatant disobedience.

Thus he passed yet another restless night, thanks once again to his wife.