(For full clarity, this chapter takes place two years prior to the previous one)

The Last Time

Ozai had already had this conversation with his father four times before, but he had never quite dreaded it like he did this time.

The Fire Lord had granted his request for a private audience, but insisted on receiving him in the throne room, with the wall of flames lit between them and all the other attendant formalities. Ozai had not been surprised - his father seldom spoke to him in any informal setting unless Iroh was also present, and Iroh was too busy preparing for his upcoming campaign in the Earth Kingdom, on which his own son would be accompanying him for the first time, to bother with such a matter as this. Not that Ozai wanted his brother to be here for this conversation.

To be honest, Ozai did not want to have this conversation at all. But there was no getting out of it now, and so he bowed before the throne and hoped for the best.

"Prince Ozai," his father greeted him coolly as Ozai lifted his forehead from the floor. "You had something important to discuss with me?" He did not bid Ozai to rise, and so he remained kneeling.

"Yes, Father," Ozai replied. The Fire Lord had no patience for beating around the bush, so Ozai got straight to the point. "I am pleased to inform you that Princess Ursa is with child again."

Behind the flickering wall of flames, his father's eyes narrowed. "Is that so?" he asked, leaning forward. "And are you truly pleased with this development?"

Ozai sat up a little straighter. "Our children are the future of the Fire Nation," he recited, a practiced speech taken almost word for word from the literature that the ministry of education sent out to all the provinces. He would know, for he had helped to write it. "They will spread Agni's civilizing light throughout the world…"

"Do not quote my own propaganda to me," the Fire Lord cut him off, pointing one finger in a stern warning. "That is all well and good for the commoners who must fill out the ranks of our armies. But no such contribution was asked of you."

Ozai nodded in acknowledgement of this point, and tried a slightly different tactic. "Should the royal family not lead by example?"

His father laughed at this, but it was a mirthless sound which told Ozai it had been a misstep. "Is that what you think?" the Fire Lord asked, a dangerous edge to his voice. "That you are a better example to our people than Prince Iroh? Or myself?"

"Of course not," Ozai hastily replied, giving an apologetic half bow. "Did you not have five children of your own, Father?"

"Two of whom were dead, and a third well on her way to following them, by the time the fifth was born," his father reminded him, as if Ozai could forget what had happened to them. Then, lest there was any doubt as to his intended meaning, he added, "Had your sisters lived, you would not be here, Prince Ozai."

And were he not here, Fire Lady Ilah still would be. Ozai had heard all this before. He scowled at the floor in front of him, hands clenched into fists on his knees, and said nothing.

Unexpectedly, the Fire Lord got to his feet, extinguished the wall of flames, and came down from the throne to stand in front of Ozai. "I thought I had made it clear after the last one," he said in a more even tone, "that you and your wife had sufficiently fulfilled your duty." He folded his hands in the wide sleeves of his robes, looking down at his son. "I am beginning to wonder if there were deficiencies in your education on these matters."

Ozai fought to maintain his composure. His father had largely entrusted that portion of his "education" to Iroh, and Iroh's tutelage had consisted of wildly inappropriate suggestions which Ozai had resisted at every turn. But he was hardly naive. "No, Father," he said through gritted teeth.

"Because none of the other noble couples of the court are breeding like rabaroos," his father went on as if he hadn't said anything. "There are means of controlling it. If they are all aware of them, then why aren't you?"

Ozai glanced away, seething. This was the part of the conversation he had been most dreading, for he knew that the true answer to that question would be one the Fire Lord would find unacceptable. So Ozai steeled his nerve and did something he had almost never done before: he lied to his father, at least by implication.

"None of those methods are foolproof," he said with all the calm he could muster.

The Fire Lord scoffed. "And you are the fool that proves it, I suppose."

Ozai did not trust himself to speak at that moment. Fortunately, after a brief strained silence, his father spoke again, evidently not caring that Ozai had nothing to say for himself. "The fourth was understandable, since the third was a nonbender," he mused aloud. Then his voice grew stern again. "Look at me, Prince Ozai."

Ozai obediently raised his eyes and met his father's unforgiving gaze.

"Five is quite more than sufficient," the Fire Lord said slowly, enunciating each word. "There will be no more after this - for your wife's sake if not your own. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Father," Ozai replied, bowing again. And whether it was convincing enough, or his father was just tired of this conversation, after that he was promptly dismissed.

"How did the Fire Lord take the news?" Ursa asked him later that evening.

They were alone in her apartments. Ursa had changed into her nightclothes, and beneath the tied sash of her dressing gown the curve of her stomach was already starting to show, though she was still not very far along. Ozai had put off telling his father as long as he reasonably could have.

"He is displeased with us," Ozai answered bluntly.

Ursa gave an annoyed huff, but didn't look up from her embroidery. "I don't see why he has any cause to be," she said primly, pushing her needle down through the fabric.

"An excessive number of heirs can cause problems," Ozai replied without much feeling, looking down at the dark wine in the goblet he held in one hand. It was a lesson that had been drilled into him by his history tutors when he was a boy, a lesson he had evidently not learned well enough for his father's liking.

Ursa seemed even more unconvinced than he was. "Lu Ten will be Fire Lord someday," she said firmly, tugging on the red thread she was working with to pull her stitches tight. "He will have children of his own, and one of them will succeed him." She glanced up from her needlework at last, giving Ozai a pointed look. "The likelihood of any of our children ever fighting each other for the throne seems rather slim, doesn't it?"

Ozai frowned, but did not voice any disagreement. Privately, he had his own hopes for the future of the throne, but it would only upset Ursa to say anything about that now. And on the face of it, he could not dispute what she had said. "My father still seems to think it's not worth the risk," he said instead.

Ursa's eyes flashed dangerously. "Your father…"

"Is the Fire Lord," Ozai cut her off. "His word is law."

Ursa set her embroidery hoop aside on the sofa. "There is a higher law even than the word of the Fire Lord."

Ozai sighed, leaning his head against the back of his chair. "Not this again." He had humored her in many of her old-fashioned ideas all these years, but this was one point on which he had never acquiesced to her. And he was not about to do so now. "I don't need another of your lectures."

"Fine," Ursa replied, folding her arms. "But how many children we are blessed with is not your father's decision."

"Perhaps not," Ozai allowed with a grimace, recalling his earlier conversation. "But perhaps it is ours." And then he told her everything the Fire Lord had said.

Ursa stared at him in shock. "No," she said sharply, in answer to the implied question. "Absolutely not." She got to her feet, pacing the room. "That he would suggest such a thing is no surprise, but I can't believe you would ever think for a minute that I…"

"Would it really be such a crime?" Ozai asked, setting aside his wine goblet and getting to his feet as well. "Is five children not enough?"

Ursa rounded on him angrily. "It is not a question of enough!" Her hands were balled into fists now, shaking. "That is not how you think of children! And as for those methods the rest of the court supposedly knows so much about, they are disgusting, for one thing, and they would make a complete mockery of our marriage, for another…"

Ozai strode across the room, took hold of her hands, and silenced her in the best way he knew how - by covering her lips with his own. She stiffened in surprise at first, struggled against him briefly in the final throes of her anger, but then relaxed into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck. When he finally pulled away, she said no more.

"I understand your feelings about this," Ozai said in a low voice, cupping her chin with one hand. "And I have always respected them. This is not an immediate issue at present, but…" She opened her mouth to speak again, and he shifted his hand, pressing one finger to her lips to close them. "The Fire Lord has made his will clear. Neither you nor I can go against that."

He let his hand fall away from her face. Ursa did not even attempt to speak this time, but in the firm set of her mouth and the fire in her eyes, he read her answer plainly enough: You cannot, she was thinking. I can.

Ozai was momentarily conscious of a distinct fear that indeed she would. But then she was kissing him again, and the argument was soon forgotten for the time being.

Ozai was not with Ursa when she informed the children, but when he saw her at lunch afterwards he knew right away from her mood that it had gone much better than his conversation with his father.

"Zuko and Azar are very excited," Ursa said happily between delicate bites of her food - plain rice, steamed vegetables, and unseasoned komodo chicken, for strong flavors did not agree with her when she was pregnant. "I don't know that Shinzo really understood," she added more thoughtfully. Ozai was hardly surprised at this, for Shinzo was a mere two years old, and did not understand most things. "But," Ursa went on, smiling again, "he could tell his brothers were happy, so he was happy, too."

"What about Azula?" Ozai asked, picking at his own more flavorful food.

Ursa frowned. "She was...less enthusiastic," she admitted, then took a careful sip of her tea. "She offered her congratulations, actually. Very formal and polite."

Ozai chuckled. "That means she's furious," he explained. How strange it was, that their daughter was the only one of their children his wife did not seem to understand - and the only one that Ozai ever felt he did.

Ursa rolled her eyes. "Well, I'm sure she'll come around. She's got two younger brothers already, it's not like this is a new concept to her."

Ozai gave a thoughtful hum, already planning to have his own talk with Azula later. "Perhaps she doesn't like the idea because she has two younger brothers already."

Ursa gave him a warning look, but did not directly address what he was insinuating. "It might be a younger sister this time," she said instead. Then, with a shrug, she added, "It might even be two."

Ozai suddenly found himself choking on a crab dumpling. Ursa seemed unconcerned about his plight, and when his coughing finally dislodged the food from his windpipe, she merely raised an eyebrow at him. "What?" was all he managed to rasp out.

"I spoke to my midwife," Ursa explained. "She thinks it might be twins this time, based on how soon I started showing."

Ozai breathed a sigh of relief. Ursa put great faith in her midwife's expertise, but the woman was merely a rustic practitioner of ancient superstitions whom the royal physicians tolerated to appease their princess. "I suppose we'll have to wait and see," he replied evenly, regaining his composure.

Ursa smiled knowingly. "She also thinks I'm in fine health, with several more good childbearing years ahead of me." She lifted a morsel of rice to her mouth, chewed carefully, and swallowed. Ozai did not respond. "Isn't that good news?" she prompted.

They would have to wait and see about that as well, Ozai thought. But aloud he only said, "I certainly hope you will not suffer any complications." Which was also the truth. He knew well enough that childbearing could be a dangerous business - it had claimed the life of his own mother, as he had so often been reminded.

But Ursa remained cheerful and confident, and not without good reason, for they both knew all of her previous pregnancies had been as uncomplicated as could be. They had truly been blessed indeed.

"But why do we need another stupid baby?" Azula asked him later. He had taken her aside for a private firebending lesson that afternoon, as he sometimes did, for she was progressing at a far more rapid pace than the tutor charged with instructing her and Zuko was willing to advance with her. Ozai intended to find her a new master soon, one who would not hold her back, and could focus on helping her achieve her potential without having to worry about her less gifted older brother.

"Watch your language," he scolded reflexively. "And your stance."

Azula adjusted her feet so her stance was almost flawless. "But why?" she repeated.

"That is none of your concern," Ozai replied, folding his arms. It was certainly not a conversation he was prepared to have with his six-year-old daughter. "Now, the first form again."

Azula blew on her neatly trimmed bangs with a huff, but went through the first form as she had been told. Like her opening stance, it was almost perfect, but not quite. "That was not right," Ozai pointed out when she had finished. "Can you tell me why?"

Azula thought for a moment, bouncing on the balls of her feet and swinging her arms. "My knees were too stiff," she said at last.

"Correct," Ozai said with a nod. "Do it again."

Azula resumed the opening stance of the form, adjusted her feet once more, and then bent her knees, lowering her center of gravity just slightly. This time, when she went through the form, there were no mistakes.

"Better," Ozai said, and Azula grinned in triumph. "That is what I expect from you every time we drill this form from now on."

Azula nodded, and Ozai knew she would make sure to meet that expectation.

They went through a few more of the basic forms, perfecting her technique on each of them in turn, and then Ozai showed her a few more intermediate moves to begin practicing - whether her tutor liked it or not. Azula absorbed all his instruction eagerly, further cementing Ozai's opinion that her current teacher was only doing her a disservice by refusing to let her advance beyond Zuko. They ended their lesson with some cooldown stretches, followed by brief meditation - Azula's least favorite part.

When he dismissed her back to her room to clean up and change for dinner, Azula bowed politely, but did not immediately leave the training grounds. "You're not happy about the new baby either, are you?" she asked, looking him straight in the eye. That impertinence, Ozai thought, she got entirely from her mother.

"Your new sibling is coming whether you like it or not," Ozai replied, dodging the question. "I suggest you reconcile yourself to that fact, and focus on the things that are within your control."

Azula frowned, considering this answer. Ozai turned to go, trusting Azula would follow his instructions in due course. But before he made it to the edge of the training grounds, Azula called out to him again.

"Dad?" she said, her voice uncharacteristically childlike - even though she was a child, Azula hardly ever talked like one, at least to him. Ozai halted and looked back over his shoulder to see her, wide-eyed and worrying her lower lip. "What if this one becomes a better firebender than me?"

Of course that was her concern, Ozai realized. Azula knew her worth, and would naturally be anxious to keep her position. He should have expected no less from her.

"Don't let him," Ozai replied. Then he walked away.

The royal physicians, some months later, confided in Prince Ozai that they shared the midwife's suspicions that indeed Princess Ursa might be carrying twins. But they would not call it a sure thing, and so Ozai felt no need to mention this to the Fire Lord. There was no use buying trouble before its time.

When Ursa's pains began a full month ahead of schedule, however, there was no keeping that a secret. Ozai, as usual, was forbidden from entering the birthing room - another of Ursa's old fashioned ideas, which he had to admit at least did no harm, aside from to his nerves. But unlike with the previous births, this time the Fire Lord chose to wait it out with him in the gardens.

"Rather early, isn't it?" his father remarked from his comfortable seat in the shade.

"Not so early," Ozai replied, standing by the fountain and staring at the golden dragon atop it. Twins often did come early, the physicians had told him, but he was still determined not to divulge that possibility until it became a certainty.

"I hope your streak of luck hasn't run out," his father said with evident sarcasm. "We would hate to lose Princess Ursa to your reckless need to procreate."

"Indeed," Ozai agreed, feeling sickened rather than angered by the barb. The reckless need for more children was Ursa's, of course, not his, but that was yet another thing his father did not need to know. And he had allowed himself, perhaps foolishly, to be lulled into a sense of security by her previous good fortune, and her own confidence, up until now. But suddenly he considered his father's words seriously.

What if there was a problem? Surely, even if it was twins, and that was why the birth was coming so soon, that only presented double the opportunity for complications to arise? What would he do, what would become of him, if his own child - or children - cost him his wife?

Ozai looked over at the shade of the cherry tree where his father sat, and did not think he would like the answer to that question.

"You begin to see my point, don't you, Prince Ozai?" his father said softly - perhaps even, Ozai would have thought if it were any other man, sympathetically. The old man did not stir from his seat, and offered no gesture of consolation, but there was an unusual warmth in his voice as he went on. "Spirits willing, all will be well. Let this be the last time you cast yourself upon their mercy in this way."

Ozai could only nod, and turn back to the fountain. It was Ursa's favorite. Please, Agni, he thought impulsively, looking into the dragon's golden eyes. Let her be alright. And then, though he was not a praying man by habit, he added a second petition: And don't let it be twins.

His father said no more, and so neither did Ozai. Some time later, an excited clamor of high-pitched voices alerted him to the fact that his children were running towards him through the gardens. How undignified they looked, he thought with a frown.

"Dad!" Zuko was shouting excitedly as he drew nearer, his younger siblings trailing behind him. "The midwife said we could be the ones to tell you! Mom had twins!"

So much for the power of prayer, Ozai thought.

"Twins!" Azar repeated as the children drew to a halt in front of him. "Two little brothers!" He clapped his hands in excitement.

Shinzo, who was just catching up with the older children, copied this gesture and repeated in turn, "Two!" He had understood that much, it seemed.

"And your mother?" Ozai asked.

"She's fine, of course," Azula replied, not as overjoyed as her brothers. "The doctors said she and the babies are all healthy."

"How blessed you are indeed," came the Fire Lord's voice from the shade - once again the cold, imperious voice Ozai had known all his life. The children, noticing their grandfather there for the first time, all hastily turned and bowed - Shinzo rather clumsily, of course. The Fire Lord rose to his feet, and went on, "Twin sons, and their mother in good health. The spirits really have smiled upon your family today." He met Ozai's gaze pointedly, and added in a lower voice, not for the children's ears, "All the more reason to be cautious in the future."

With that, the Fire Lord took his leave.

"Twins," Ozai said, looking down at the two swaddled bundles in the cradle. One was sleeping soundly, while the other wriggled like a little worm.

"Aren't they beautiful?" Ursa said tiredly from the bed where she was propped up with several pillows. Her hair was loose and her face a bit pale, but her eyes were glowing. She was beautiful, Ozai thought. The twins, on the other hand…

"They look like babies," Ozai replied diplomatically. Which was to say, they looked like ugly, wrinkled monkeys, as all babies did, especially newborns. Even Azula had not been a pretty child until she was several months old.

Ursa laughed at this, and leaned over, resting one hand on the edge of the cradle which had been placed close to her bed, and stroking the fine, dark hair atop each of the babies' heads with the other. "They're precious," she insisted.

The wriggly one let out a little mewling cry, and Ursa leaned further to lift him out of the cradle. Ozai hastily reached out to grasp her elbow in support. She smiled at him as she rested back against her pillows, holding the baby to her breast, and Ozai thought, for that smile, he would do anything in the world. Perhaps even defy the Fire Lord himself.

"You see?" Ursa said softly, looking back down at the baby as she soothed him. "Aren't they worth it?"

No, Ozai thought. Not them. Perhaps he would come to find some affection for the twins someday, but children held no interest for him until they were at least old enough to reason with, and Azar was only just at that age, in his estimation. But Ursa herself - she was worth everything, and he could deny her nothing. If it came to her will or the Fire Lord's, he would do hers.

He didn't answer her question. But leaning forward, he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Get some rest, my love."