Ember Island
The house on Ember Island had belonged to the royal family for generations, so it was Ozai who had memories of vacationing there as a boy. But it was unequivocally Ursa who looked forward to their family trips there more. She loved everything about Ember Island - the beaches, the town, the theater - and especially thrived in the uninterrupted family time their vacations afforded them. Ozai, for his part, usually spent the first day or so of the trip in a foul mood. But he would always relax and have a good time eventually, Ursa knew, no matter how much he would complain about going before the trip each year.
This year, in particular, Ursa felt that her husband needed the time away, in spite of his protestations. She knew that current circumstances at home and abroad were weighing on him, all his old insecurities about his position in his father's eyes, and his brother's shadow. It would do him good, she thought, to leave all that behind for a while, to spend less time worrying about Azulon and Iroh, and more time with the family he had who loved him unconditionally.
It would be good for the children, as well.
Their first day was always a family beach day, and this year was no exception, with the whole family traipsing down to the shore of the private cove in which their house was situated. Ursa had coaxed her husband into setting up the canopy and beach chairs with a minimum of grumbling, and the two of them were now comfortably situated. Azula and Azar were building a sand castle - a very heavily fortified one, by the look of it. Shinzo was trying to help them, mostly by finding pebbles and bits of seaweed with which to decorate the ramparts. A little ways away, Zuko was supervising the twins as they explored the tidal pools among the rocks.
Watching their children play, Ursa and Ozai had nothing to do but relax. At least, Ursa did.
Glancing over at her husband, Ursa raised an eyebrow as he opened the round leather case he'd insisted on bringing down from the house with him and removed one of several scrolls. She had brought a book with her as well, of course, but she somehow doubted Ozai was doing mere light beach reading, judging by the official seal on the back of the scroll in his hands.
"Ozai, you're not working on vacation, are you?" Ursa asked reproachfully. He usually complained about the backlog of work that would pile up while they were away, but he'd never actually brought work with him before.
"Just the latest reports from Ba Sing Se," Ozai replied, his eyes still on the scroll. "I don't want to fall behind on the situation."
It was on the tip of Ursa's tongue to say that Iroh could manage the siege just as well whether Ozai was reading about it or not. But she knew that poking at that sore spot would hardly improve her husband's attitude towards their vacation. "Well, we would hate for you to miss anything important," she said instead, as Denzu made his way over to them from the tidal pool.
Ursa smiled at her youngest son, but the boy ran straight to his father's side. "Daddy, look!" he said excitedly, holding up a small object in his little hand - something he had found in the tidal pool, no doubt.
"Show your mother," Ozai replied, waving Denzu away without looking.
Denzu pouted, his brows drawn in frustration. Ursa sympathized with the child's feelings completely, and reached over to draw him to her side. "Let me see what you have there," she said encouragingly.
Denzu proudly showed her. It was a spiral snail shell, white with brown speckles - a common species found on this island, but a rather attractive example. "How lovely!" Ursa exclaimed, and Denzu beamed up at her.
"For you, Mama," he said, dropping the shell into her hands, his attempt to present this gift to his father a moment ago apparently already forgotten. Ursa thanked him, kissed his forehead, and sent him back to play with his brothers.
"It is a lovely shell," Ursa said pointedly after a moment. Ozai gave a faint hum of acknowledgement, but he had just pulled another scroll from the case and was now cross-referencing the two. "Maybe, if you're lucky," Ursa added, "he'll bring another one for you."
That at least earned her a brief, exasperated glance, which Ursa took as a sign of progress.
And Ozai was in luck, for Denzu did try again, running back to them a few minutes later. This time Ursa could see that the shell he had found was larger, a rose colored conch that he could barely grasp with one pudgy little hand. "Look, Daddy, look!" he repeated as he held this new prize up for his father's inspection.
In the same vein of progress, Ozai did look this time - but only to frown and immediately return to his important military reports. "Yes, alright," he muttered with another dismissive gesture.
This was marginally better, but clearly it was still not the response Denzu was hoping for, and the boy's infantile anger at this second disappointment was evident. Ursa once again redirected his attention.
"Do you know what these shells can do?" she asked, taking the conch from his hand and holding it up before him.
"What?" Denzu asked, wide-eyed.
"If you hold it just so," Ursa explained, placing the open side of the shell against his ear, "you can hear the whole ocean inside it."
Denzu listened carefully for a moment, his face screwed up in concentration - and then it broke out into a smile. "Wow!" he exclaimed, grabbing the conch from her hands again and running back over to his brothers. "Hey, Zuko!" he called out. "Guess what it can do!"
Ursa laughed fondly, watching Zuko obligingly kneel down so Denzu could hold the conch shell to his ear. Ozai, who had looked up from his scrolls at the sound of her laughter, observed the same sight far more stoically.
"He's so good with the little ones," Ursa said, as Zuko took the conch shell and held it to Raizu's ear in turn. Raizu smiled up at his big brother, and when Denzu reclaimed his shell, Zuko took both twins by the hands and led them further down the beach to continue their exploration.
Ursa rested both her hands over her stomach. They still hadn't told the children yet, but by this time next year when they returned to Ember Island, there would be a new baby with them. Ursa was sure Zuko would be just as good of a big brother to this one as he was to all the others.
But when she glanced back over at Ozai, Ursa saw that he was scowling, with a faraway look in his eyes, like he was seeing not the boys in front of him but some other distant memory. She reached for his hand, breaking him out of this trance. "At least try to enjoy this vacation, my love," she said softly.
Ozai squeezed her hand, but shook his head. "I need to finish these first," he insisted, gesturing towards his scrolls.
"Fine," Ursa said reluctantly, withdrawing her hand from his grasp. "But if you're still working tomorrow, I will personally throw those scrolls into the sea."
Ozai was unimpressed by this threat. "These scrolls are the property of the Fire Lord's government," he said, tapping the seal on one of them for emphasis.
"Then let the Fire Lord try and stop me," Ursa replied petulantly. With that, she got up and strode across the sand to inspect Azar and Azula's castle, which was now complete and even had a filled moat. The two of them were now sketching out rudimentary battle plans in the sand, while Shinzo had run down to the water and was amusing himself by jumping in the waves.
It was a calm day, and the surf wasn't rough at all, so Ursa was not too concerned about Shinzo. Still, after complimenting Azula and Azar on their castle building, she took hold of Shinzo's hand in one of hers, hiking her skirt up to her knees with the other, and accompanied him in wading through the shallows.
Distracted by the other children, she didn't notice Denzu's third attempt to get his father's attention until it was too late.
"Denzu, no!" she heard Zuko call out, and she whipped around to see her oldest chasing after his youngest brother - though Zuko was hindered by the fact that he was carrying Raizu on his hip at the same time. Denzu himself was darting back towards the shade of the canopy, where Ozai was still engrossed in his scrolls, as fast as his little legs would carry him. It registered in Ursa's mind what he was holding this time - a massive spider crab, its body bigger than Denzu's head and its long legs flailing wildly - just as Denzu proudly deposited his latest find right onto Ozai's lap.
Ursa was already running back up the beach, but she knew she wouldn't make it in time. There was a loud cry of outrage and alarm - Ozai's, of course - and then the singular sight of the giant crab flying through the air in a wide arc, its legs still flailing madly in all directions, until it finally came down in the water with a faint splash.
"What in Agni's name–" Ozai was shouting just as Ursa reached the canopy, the other children all trailing behind her. He was scowling down at Denzu - thankfully, there did not seem to be any physical damage done to either of them, for Ursa knew the spider crab's claws were quite powerful - and Denzu was glaring back up at him with an almost identical expression.
"Daddy!" the little boy shouted back, stamping one foot and pointing in the direction in which the unfortunate crustacean had just flown away. "My crab!"
Ursa intervened. "Denzu," she said sternly, kneeling down in front of the little boy. "That was not safe at all." Denzu blinked at her in confusion, and Ursa took hold of both of his hands. "You do not pick up live animals without permission," she explained.
Shinzo, the last of the other children to catch up with them under the canopy, had a rather different view on the situation. "Wow, Dad!" he exclaimed, bouncing on his feet. "You threw that crab like a hundred feet!"
It was probably not that far, Ursa thought as Azar stifled a giggle and Azula rolled her eyes. But Ozai had turned his attention to Zuko, who was still holding Raizu.
"You," he said, pointing, and Zuko took half a step back. Raizu's arms tightened around his neck. "You should be keeping a closer eye on your brothers."
"Ozai!" Ursa objected, rising to her feet.
But Zuko bowed his head, accepting the blame. "Sorry, Dad," he said sincerely.
Ursa took Raizu from Zuko, settling him on her own hip, and put her other arm around Zuko's shoulders. "You can't blame him," she said, giving her husband a warning look.
But Ozai was already packing his precious scrolls back into the leather case he had brought them in. "I'm going back inside," he announced, not looking at her, "so I can work without any further interruptions." And with that, he ducked out from under the canopy, and marched back up the slope to the house.
Shinzo flopped down in Ozai's now vacant beach chair. "Denzu, you made Dad so mad…" he observed with something that Ursa thought sounded uncomfortably like admiration.
"No!" Denzu insisted, crossing his arms. "Daddy made me mad!"
"Well, since we're all here," Ursa said exasperatedly, sitting down in her own chair with Raizu in her lap and flipping open the picnic basket she had brought. "Who'd like a snack?" And that got an enthusiastic response from all the children.
She would deal with her husband later.
Ursa had words with Ozai in private, after lunch, when the twins were napping and the older children playing a board game in the sitting room. He'd finished reading all of the military reports in the small study at the back of the house, and intended to spend the afternoon in there as well, writing a memo to the Fire Lord on his observations of improvements that could be made to the strategy of the siege of Ba Sing Se.
"Do you really think that would be the best use of your time?" Ursa asked him pointedly, her voice low and even.
Ozai glared back at her across the table, where the reports and his notes were neatly spread out. "Are you suggesting the Fire Lord does not need my input on the most important military campaign in our nation's history?"
"I am suggesting,'' Ursa replied, gripping the back of the chair in front of her, "that the Fire Lord does not need you quite so urgently at this particular moment as your children do."
Ozai shook his head, dipped his pen in the inkwell, and began writing on a fresh sheet of paper. "This will not take long," he assured her. "I will run some firebending drills with Zuko and Azula this evening."
Ursa let out an annoyed huff. "That is not what I mean!"
Ozai looked back up at her, impassive. "Very well, Shinzo can join us, too," he conceded. "But the twins are too young for serious training."
"I am not talking about training!" Ursa snapped, marching around to the other side of the table to stand next to Ozai's chair. Still he did not get up. "I am talking about playing with your children, spending time together as a family, because that is what we came on this vacation to do!"
"I see," Ozai said, making a mark on one of the pages of his notes. "Surely that can wait until tomorrow."
"You don't–" Ursa began to argue. But Ozai set down his pen, took hold of her hand, and cut her off.
"Tomorrow, Ursa," he insisted. And then he had the nerve to kiss the back of her hand, as if to seal the deal. That, she supposed, was the best she was going to get out of him for now.
The rest of the afternoon passed peaceably, and true to his word, when Ozai did finally emerge from the study, he took Zuko, Azula, and Shinzo out into the courtyard for firebending drills, while Azar practiced his archery and Ursa played with the twins. Zuko came away from this lesson rather frustrated, as he often did, but Azula and Shinzo were in high spirits, each having earned their father's much sought-after praise. Progress, Ursa reminded herself. It was all progress.
It started to rain just after dinner, so they were unable to gather the whole family around a bonfire as they usually did in the evenings. She tried to coax Ozai into getting out the pipa anyway and playing for them in the sitting room, but he brushed off this suggestion, his mind once again elsewhere. At least by the time Ursa left him to put the younger children to bed Azula had drawn him into a game of cards with the older ones.
The beach house was quite spacious, but the boys still shared rooms. This was nothing out of the ordinary for Shinzo and the twins, who still slept in the nursery at the palace, but it was an adventure for Zuko and Azar, who normally each had their own. As she brought the little ones upstairs, Ursa thought about the new baby again, and wondered, if this one was finally another girl, would Azula be so happy about sharing her room one day?
But she put those thoughts aside as she got Shinzo and the twins ready for bed, and settled in to read them a story. She was seated at the foot of Shinzo's bed, with Shinzo himself already tucked in. Denzu lay on his stomach on top of the covers on the bed he and Raizu shared, his chin propped up on his hands. But Raizu insisted on snuggling up to her side as she read, tucking himself neatly under one arm.
Shinzo asked a lot of questions, and Denzu offered commentary on the story as well, as best as he could. But Raizu was content just to sit and listen. Ursa wasn't surprised, for Raizu was easily the quietest of her children. He could speak when he wanted to, in a perfectly clear little voice. But most of the time he simply did not.
Ursa finished the story, gently refused Shinzo and Denzu's pleas for another, and looked down at Raizu. He was smiling up at her with tired eyes, his little arms wrapped as far as they could go around her middle, where unbeknownst to him his own little brother or sister was growing. Raizu, like Zuko, would be a very good big brother, Ursa thought. He seemed to be so full of love, and just longing to share it.
She leaned over and kissed Shinzo goodnight. "Sleep well, darling," she said, pulling the covers up to his chin.
"G'night, Mom," Shinzo said reluctantly - but like Raizu, she could see his eyes were drooping with sleep, too.
Picking Raizu up, Ursa brought him over to the other bed and tucked him and Denzu in as well. "Good night, my loves," she said, kissing them each in turn.
"Night, Mama," Denzu replied, his eyes already closed. Raizu, of course, said nothing, but he reached one little hand out from under the covers and patted her cheek, and that, to Ursa, spoke volumes.
Later, when the older children had gone to sleep as well and she and Ozai were getting themselves ready for bed, she paused in the act of brushing her hair and saw, in the reflection of the mirror, Ozai seated on the edge of their bed, once again with that faraway look.
"I'm sure the rain will stop by morning," Ursa said, just to break the silence.
Ozai nodded. "It usually does." He was familiar with Ember Island's weather patterns, of course. He'd been coming here longer than she had, staying in this very house for years stretching well back into his own boyhood.
Ursa set down her hairbrush, and went to sit next to him on the bed, to his right. "I know you're worried, about everything," she said, reaching for his left hand and placing it over her stomach. He had been moody and withdrawn like this ever since she had told him about her latest pregnancy. "But the whole point of this trip is not to spend time worrying."
Ozai was silent for a moment, looking down at her hands, clasped over his, but not as if he were really seeing them. Whether it was the past or the future he was looking into, her husband's mind was still clearly elsewhere.
"My father," Ozai said at last, very softly, "never trained with me himself."
Ursa leaned on his shoulder. "I know you try," she admitted. Ozai was not a patient man by nature, and interacting with children did not come naturally to him. Ursa had no illusions about that. "But children need more than training."
"That," Ozai replied, working his hand free of her grip and raising it to cup the side of her face instead, "is what they have you for."
Her husband, Ursa well knew, had never had a mother at all to make up for his own father's shortcomings. It was the past that had been haunting him today, it seemed, and that fully softened Ursa's heart towards him - and made her more determined than ever to secure their family's future.
The rain did indeed let up the following morning, and Ozai did indeed play with the children that day. It was teaching them how to play volleyball that he dedicated the morning to, which was still a rather vigorous and competitive activity, but at least Azar got to feel included, if not the little ones. He made up for it by including Shinzo in the afternoon firebending drills again, and even spending some time with the twins playing spark - a baby firebender's game that helped young children practice controlling their own flames, which of course Ursa couldn't play with them.
Most importantly, to Ursa's mind, Ozai stayed out of the study, and did no work that day.
And with that, their vacation really took off. The next few days were truly spent together, as a family, enjoying the peace and natural beauty of their little section of the island. They would venture into the town eventually, of course, but Ursa always preferred the first part of the vacation to be spent with just her husband and children.
It still rained most evenings, so there were no bonfires. But the days were lovely, until the end of the first week, when the morning dawned gray and drizzly and the clouds stubbornly refused to part. That day, the children had to play indoors.
There was only so much of board games and card games that Ozai could take, and for that Ursa didn't blame him. So she forgave him when he once again shut himself in the study that afternoon. She was feeling rather worn out herself - a consequence of the pregnancy, no doubt - so when she put the twins down for their afternoon nap, she told Zuko to keep an eye on the rest of his siblings and went to lie down for a bit as well.
She was roused some time later by the sound of shouting coming from downstairs. When she dragged herself out of bed and into the sitting room, she found that it was Zuko and Azula who were having the argument, of course. Azar was staying out of it, as he usually did. Shinzo, seated next to him on the couch and holding a paper cutout that looked like the Fire Lord's crown, though it was now torn, seemed to be at a loss.
Ursa was at a loss, too. "Alright, that's enough!" she said, raising her voice over the two shouting children and putting herself between them. "I expect this kind of squabbling from the little ones, but you are both old enough to know better."
"Azula started it!" Zuko accused, pointing at his sister. "I was just playing with Shinzo, and we were minding our own business, when she comes in and starts freaking out at us!"
Ursa frowned. "Now, I'm sure Azula wouldn't get mad at you for no reason," she began, reaching for her daughter. But Azula pulled back.
"It's a funny sort of game, setting him up to be your puppet Fire Lord," Azula shot back, pointing at Shinzo. Ursa began to understand. "Some people would call that treason," Azula added, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"It was just a game!" Zuko protested, but before the two of them could resume arguing, Ursa made a gesture to silence him. Walking over to the couch and kneeling down in front of Shinzo, she asked him politely if she could see his crown, and the boy obediently placed it into her hand.
She turned back to Azula, holding up the torn paper cutout. "Is this what you were so upset about?"
"Get him used to wearing a paper crown, and who knows?" Azula reasoned, crossing her arms stubbornly. "Soon he might decide he wants the real thing."
"I don't think your four-year-old brother is planning a coup," Ursa replied with all the patience she could muster, waving the flimsy paper crown at Azula for emphasis. "And I doubt either Shinzo or Zuko meant any disrespect by their game."
"But–" Azula started to argue, but Ursa cut her off.
"No but's," she said firmly, pointing one finger in a warning gesture. "You owe your brothers an apology."
Azula's face was livid. Ursa knew that being made to apologize was the thing Azula hated most, but that only made it all the more necessary, in her opinion. The girl was far too proud for her own good. She glared up at Ursa now, but kept her mouth firmly shut.
"I'm waiting," Ursa said pointedly, unmoved by her daughter's glare.
Azula's eyes fell at last. "I'm sorry I yelled at you," she muttered, vaguely in Zuko's direction.
"And?" Ursa prompted, holding up the torn paper crown once more.
Azula sighed and rolled her eyes. "And I'm sorry I ripped your crown," she added in a rush, with an impatient gesture towards Shinzo. "Is that good enough?" she asked, once again meeting Ursa's eye.
It was hardly a heartfelt apology, but Ursa decided she had made her point. "That will do," she said with a nod.
Without waiting for any further instruction, Azula stormed out of the room, calling over her shoulder for Azar to follow her - unnecessarily, in Ursa's opinion, for Azar always did seem to play his sister's second shadow. She caught him as he passed by and gave him an affectionate squeeze before letting him go to follow Azula. Then she handed the paper crown back to Shinzo.
Zuko shrugged awkwardly in the ensuing silence. "I probably shouldn't have shouted at her either, I guess."
"No, you should not have," Ursa agreed, sitting next to Shinzo on the couch. "But I understand why you did."
Zuko nodded and asked to be excused, and Ursa let him go, hoping that if he was going to look for Azula to offer an apology of his own, it would not merely devolve into another argument. Knowing Azula's temper, it would probably be best if Zuko gave her some space for a while.
"Mom?" Shinzo asked, looking up at her with a frown. "Why does Azula hate me?"
"Oh, darling," Ursa said, drawing Shinzo onto her lap. "Azula doesn't hate you."
"She's always mean to me," Shinzo protested, crumpling the remains of the paper crown in his hands, though he leaned into his mother's embrace.
"Not always," Ursa corrected him, thinking of how they had played together nicely on the first day of the vacation, working on the sand castle. "Sometimes, yes, she is, but that's not because she hates you."
"Then why?" Shinzo asked again.
"Azula is just…" Ursa trailed off, struggling to find the words to explain. She didn't understand Azula herself sometimes, if she was being honest. But she did like to think she knew a thing or two about children, by this point in her life. "She takes things very seriously," she said at last. Then, in a lower voice, half to herself, she added, "Like your father."
"Oh," Shinzo replied, seemingly accepting this explanation. "Does she need an office so she can close the door too?"
Ursa laughed at this question, and that seemed to brighten Shinzo's mood. But when she brought him out of the sitting room later to look for the other children, and they walked past the door to the study which had stayed firmly shut all afternoon, Ursa frowned at the idea.
Family shouldn't have to shut each other out.
That night, rain or no rain, was to be their first night in town since arriving at Ember Island. The little ones would be staying home with a governess to mind them, but Ursa insisted on Ozai and the older children accompanying her to the theater. The Ember Island Players were putting on their production of Love Amongst the Dragons again, and it was not to be missed.
"I just hope they've gotten better musicians than last year," Ozai muttered when she told him what their plans were for the evening.
Ursa smiled patiently. "They might have, if they had a royal patron," she reminded him.
Ozai frowned. "I already told you, I am not giving my patronage to that maudlin troupe of–"
"Artists and visionaries whose work your wife loves very much?" Ursa pointedly finished for him.
Ozai scoffed. "Yes, that," he said. And that was the end of the argument.
Zuko and Azula were not exactly enthusiastic either, though Azar, who had not been old enough to accompany them to the theater last year, was intrigued. As they took their seats in the box of honor - not officially the royal box, for the theater had no royal patron - Azar sat close to her on her right, with Zuko on her left. Azula sat on the other side of Azar, with Ozai at the end of the row next to her.
"You're in for a real treat," Ursa told Azar just before the curtain went up, and he grinned back at her, clearly excited for his first show. She ignored the way Azula rolled her eyes behind her brother's back.
The first act of the play was even better than Ursa remembered it from previous years. She thought they had improved the music, though of course that was more Ozai's area of expertise than hers. But the music had never been the main attraction of the theater for her. It was the drama and the visual spectacle of the productions that awed her, and on those counts the Ember Island Players never disappointed. Their dragon puppets were the most lifelike Ursa had ever seen, and when the Dark Water Spirit first rose out of the mist on stage, she heard Azar let out a little gasp beside her.
One of her children, at least, was enjoying the play as much as she was.
Unfortunately, when the lights came back up at the intermission, Ursa could see that Azar was the only one enjoying it aside from her. Zuko tried to be polite, but clearly had nothing nice to say. Ozai still complained about the music not being up to his standards. And Azula thought the story was ridiculous.
"But the stage effects!" Azar protested in the face of his sister's scorn for the play. "The way they made those dragons fly must involve a whole wire system, and…" Turning back to Ursa, he asked eagerly, "Mom, how did they do that transformation scene?"
"I don't know," Ursa admitted. The effects when the Dark Water Spirit cursed the Dragon Emperor to take on a mortal form were all new this year, and they were spectacular. "It was partly to do with the lighting, probably…"
Ozai took Zuko and Azula to visit the snack stand, while Ursa and Azar spent the rest of the intermission discussing the play, much to Ursa's delight.
During the second act, Ursa couldn't help sneaking glances over at Azar as he took it all in with a look of wonder on his face. It was nice to finally have someone else in the family who appreciated the theater like she did. She kept hoping that Zuko, at least, might be swayed still, but he remained slouched in his seat, unimpressed. Azula at one point leaned against her father, who put his arm around her shoulders, and though it was impossible to say for sure in the darkness, Ursa suspected they had both fallen asleep.
Uncultured simpletons, she thought disapprovingly - but the thought was still tempered with affection.
The rest of the audience did not share her family's lack of appreciation for the performing arts, at least, and she and Azar both gladly joined in the standing ovation the players received at the end of the second act. Ursa thought about bringing Azar backstage to meet the cast and crew - patrons or not, being royalty came with some privileges - but seeing Ozai's impatience to leave the theater, she thought better of it. She'd bring Azar back for that another night.
The rain had let up at last, which made for a pleasant walk back from the town to their house. Zuko, Azula, and Azar amused themselves catching fireflies along the way, and Ursa walked arm in arm with Ozai behind the children. "Azar liked it," Ursa pointed out unnecessarily, a faint, smug smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
Ozai shook his head. "There's no accounting for Azar."
Ursa raised an eyebrow at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Ozai made a vague gesture ahead of them, towards where Azar was peering at the glowing insect cupped in Zuko's hands. "Of all of our children," he said in a low voice, "he is the most...enigmatic."
Ursa frowned. That was how she felt about Azula at times, though she didn't like to admit it. "There's nothing enigmatic about Azar," she insisted. All the boys, really, were very straightforward, as far as she was concerned. All that made Azar different was that he had no firebending with which to win his father's approval, and had to go about it in other ways.
And that, Ursa thought as Azar glanced shyly back at them, then ran after Azula, should not be something Ozai found so hard to understand. True, her husband was one of the most powerful benders alive - if not the most, as he believed himself to be - but who was it who had spent the first day of their vacation writing a memo to the Fire Lord, hoping not to be forgotten in his older brother's coming military triumph?
"He's a lot like you, really," Ursa said softly, leaning her head against her husband's shoulder.
"Not when it comes to taste in theater, evidently," Ozai replied.
And Ursa couldn't help but laugh at that.
A few days later, after breaking up yet another fight between Azula and Zuko, Ursa decided she and Azula needed to spend some time together, just the two of them. She didn't want to be always scolding the girl, and a mother and daughter shopping trip, she thought, would be the perfect way for them to have a more positive experience with one another. So they left the boys with Ozai, and headed into town to explore the market.
Azula was reluctant at first, and sulked through the first few stalls Ursa stopped to look at. But when they came to the merchant selling jewelry and hair accessories, she couldn't hide her interest. "Well," Ursa said, seeing her chance. "We have to stop here."
They admired a display of necklaces first. Azula admitted she liked the opal pendant at the center of the jewelry case, and Ursa agreed it was exquisite, but of course it was much too fine a piece for a young girl. She steered her daughter towards the more age-appropriate hair accessories next, holding up a clip decorated with pink and purple glass beads. "What do you think of this?" she asked, holding up to Azula's hair and turning her towards the mirror next to the display.
Azula wrinkled her nose. "It looks like something Ty Lee would wear."
Ursa laughed, taking that as a no. "Alright then, you pick something," she said, setting the clip back down and giving her daughter a nudge of encouragement.
Azula considered for a moment, eyes slowly scanning the selection of clips, hair pins, and other baubles, before she reached out and picked up an enameled comb with the image of a blue dragon. "This one," she said confidently.
The proprietor of the stall had of course been watching them. "The young lady has excellent taste," he said approvingly, which Ursa took to mean the comb was one of the more expensive hair accessories on offer. Still, Azula really liked it.
"It is lovely," Ursa agreed, smiling at her daughter's reflection in the mirror. "We'll take it." And Azula actually smiled back.
They made a few more purchases at other stalls - Ursa bought seeds to try planting some new flowers in the palace gardens, and Azula picked out gifts for both of her friends, Mai and Ty Lee. Even when Azula asked about the stall selling cosmetics, and Ursa told her gently that she wasn't old enough for such things, Azula took it in stride and didn't fight her. Overall, Ursa thought their shopping trip was going quite well.
Then, they came to the section of the market with the stalls selling clothing.
Azula wasn't interested in any of the outfits Ursa wanted her to try on, but didn't offer alternative suggestions of her own, either. This Ursa found mildly suspect, for she knew it wasn't as if her daughter didn't care about her appearance.
Then, Azula politely asked if she could buy a new swimsuit.
"What's wrong with the ones you have?" Ursa asked, raising an eyebrow. Azula had a whole collection of lovely little swimming dresses in various shades of red and pink back at the house.
"Nothing," Azula replied innocently. "They're just so...old-fashioned." Ursa frowned at that, for Azula's swim clothes were made in the same style as her own, which she had always thought was rather timeless. "Can't I have something like that?" Azula asked, pointing to a mannequin outside a nearby stall.
The mannequin in question was modeling an adult swimsuit, though Ursa could see child sizes of the same fashion on display as well. It was two pieces, with a halter top that bared the midriff and a low waistband on the skirt.
"That," Ursa said with disapproval, "is hardly appropriate for a grown woman, much less a little girl."
But unlike with the makeup, Azula did not readily accept her mother's judgement on this issue. "Ty Lee and her sisters get to wear two piece swimsuits," she argued defiantly.
"If Ty Lee's mother wants her daughters parading around half naked, that's her business," Ursa replied, taking Azula's hand and leading her away from the swimsuit stall. "But you, young lady, shall not be."
Azula yanked her hand out of her mother's grip, and though she still obediently followed after her, she also muttered something under her breath.
"What was that?" Ursa challenged her.
"I said you're such a prude!" Azula snapped, stamping her foot.
"And you," Ursa replied, hands on her hips, "are in far too much of a hurry to grow up, in the worst way possible." Between the swimsuit and the makeup, Ursa was honestly starting to worry about just where her daughter was getting such ideas. Perhaps Ty Lee and her older sisters were to blame. But she took a deep breath, and tried for a more conciliatory tone. "You'll thank me for this someday," she assured the girl.
Azula did not look convinced. But she did not mouth off again. Still, the rest of the shopping trip was not as much fun, and when they got back to the house, Azula shut herself in her room until lunch. Perhaps, Ursa thought, Shinzo had been right about what she needed.
That afternoon, when she looked in on the children's firebending practice with Ozai, she could tell that Azula was pushing herself harder than ever, the flames she generated almost looking, to Ursa's inexpert eye, on par with those of an adult firebender.
Ozai lavished praise upon her for it.
They finally got around to doing a bonfire that evening, and Ozai was out of excuses for not playing the pipa for them. Ursa brought the instrument outside, just to emphasize this point, as Ozai got the fire started. With a reluctant sigh, he opened the case and tuned the instrument as the children gathered round - Denzu and Raizu sitting on either side of Ursa, Azula and Shinzo on either side of their father, and Zuko and Azar in between.
Ursa had never quite understood why Ozai was so reluctant to use his musical talents. He played beautifully - not just the pipa, although that was what he had been taught as a child, but any instrument she had ever seen him pick up. He had a good singing voice, too, and a good memory for both melodies and lyrics that gave him an encyclopedic knowledge of songs to draw on. But Ozai, usually so proud of anything he could accomplish, was almost downright shy about his music. It was only on vacation that he ever played for the children, and Ursa hardly got to hear him any more often these days.
She supposed it was not something the Fire Lord had ever praised him for, though everyone else who had been so lucky as to hear him play certainly had.
Satisfied at last with the instrument's tuning, Ozai plucked out the opening notes of a song - an old folk ballad about a phoenix and a dragon. Ursa and the older children knew all the words, and sang along, while the little ones did their best to join in on the chorus. The next song he played was more melancholy - its lyrics told of a soldier returning home from war as the sole survivor of his unit - and Ursa and the children simply sat and listened. Watching Ozai as he sang, Ursa thought this was the most at peace she had seen him since they had come to Ember Island.
When the children joined in again on the next, more upbeat song, Ozai didn't even grimace at the little ones' sour notes.
"Zuko," Ursa said when that song was done, an idea suddenly occurring to her. "Did you bring your flute with you?"
Zuko looked at her in surprise. "Yeah, it's in my room."
"Why don't you go get it," Ursa suggested. "Then you and your father can play together."
Zuko didn't move from his spot by the fire, looking to his father for approval. Ozai met his oldest son's eye, considered for a moment...and then, to Ursa's immense relief, gave a curt nod. Then, and only then, did Zuko leap to his feet and run to get his own instrument.
Azula, who had begged her father that year to let her quit her own flute lessons, and finally prevailed upon him with the reasoning that it would give her more time for firebending practice, poked at the coals of the bonfire sullenly. "Zuko doesn't know as many songs as Dad," she complained, though Ursa suspected this was far from the true source of her displeasure.
"He's a quick learner," Ursa defended him.
"He is," Ozai agreed, absently plucking out a chord. "When it comes to music, anyway."
Azula seemed reassured by this.
Zuko rejoined them a moment later, flute in hand. This time they started with a song he knew, and Zuko played it well, flawlessly keeping time with his father. After they had gone through a few more of the pieces Zuko had mastered already - both folk songs and classical ballads - Ozai suggested a new one, The Song of the Dragon Empress. It was from Love Amongst the Dragons, and it was one of Ursa's favorite pieces of music.
"I don't know that one," Zuko said hesitantly.
"It's simple," Ozai said. "Listen." He played the melody on the pipa once, then held out his hand. Zuko passed him the flute, and Ozai demonstrated the melody again on his instrument - every bit as flawlessly as he had played it on the pipa, of course. "Now you do it," he said, passing the flute back to Zuko.
Zuko hesitated a moment, adjusting his fingering on the instrument. He glanced at Ursa, who gave him an encouraging smile, but Ozai snapped his fingers, drawing Zuko's attention away from her. "Your mother can't help you," he said sternly. "Just play."
Zuko put the flute to his lips and played.
The notes were right, but the sound was faint, tremulous, lacking in confidence. Ursa thought it was rather good for a first attempt of a song he had never played before, but Ozai wasn't satisfied.
"Not like that," Ozai said, though to his credit Zuko did not stop playing. "This isn't the first time you've ever held a flute. Play it right."
Zuko sat up a little straighter, and the sound of his playing steadied, but it was still not the full-bodied sound of when his father had demonstrated the melody. "Ozai," Ursa said warningly, before her husband could criticize the boy any further. "He's trying."
Ozai gave her an exasperated look. "He can do better." He turned back to Zuko, not saying anything else, but what he expected clearly written on his face: Do it better.
Azula poked at the coals of the fire again, and the flames danced higher for a moment. Something hardened in Zuko's eyes, he adjusted his grip on the flute, and without ever ceasing to play, suddenly he did it. The music burst forth into full life, sweet and clear.
"That's it," Ozai said with a nod, and then he joined in on the pipa.
They played a few more songs together - some that Zuko knew, others that he had to learn. But buoyed by his success with the Dragon Empress song, Zuko met his father's expectations on all of them. When it grew late, and they had to carry the little ones back into the house, Zuko went to bed positively glowing with pride.
"He's so gifted," Ursa commented in a low voice as she watched Zuko climb up the stairs.
But Ozai, who was putting the pipa away in the front hall closet, shook his head, and Ursa was glad Zuko was upstairs and out of earshot when he spoke. "If that boy had half as much skill in firebending…"
Ursa frowned at him. "Do you ever wish Azula was better at music?"
Ozai gave her a strange look, uncomprehending. "Music," he said, shutting the closet door, "is trivial."
That night when she undressed, before she put on her nightgown, Ursa examined her reflection in the mirror. Having borne six children already, her stomach had been varying degrees of round for over a decade now, but she thought it was beginning to look larger than usual again. Not obviously so - she wasn't showing as early as she had with the twins, which was to be expected if there was once again only one this time - but as she ran her hand over the curve of her belly, it definitely felt firmer and fuller.
Ozai, once again seated on the bed behind her, watched her without saying a word. This time, he did not look far away, but fully present in the moment.
"I hope this one is a girl," Ursa confided, her hand resting over her navel.
"Of course," Ozai agreed neutrally. "We have quite the imbalance as it is."
Ursa turned away from the mirror and grinned at him. "It will take more than this one to fully even things out," she teased.
Ozai was unamused. "We're pushing our luck already," he reminded her. Then he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "It won't be long before I'm facing the Fire Lord again to tell him…"
Ursa immediately felt bad for having reminded him of that particular anxiety. She didn't share his conviction that the conversation he would have to have with his father would be so awful as he seemed to expect, but she was the one who had insisted this vacation was supposed to be an escape from worrying about all that. She went to the bed, knelt behind him, and wrapped both her arms around him. "It's alright, my love," she whispered, pressing a kiss to his temple. All the muscles in his back and neck were tense. "Everything will be alright."
Ozai was not a man given to great displays of emotion, but Ursa felt him tremble in her arms, and wondered for a moment if he was going to cry. Instead, he turned around suddenly and grasped her close to his chest, his lips pressing down hard on her own.
Later, as they lay in bed and Ursa idly ran her fingers through her husband's hair, he whispered back to her, "It will be alright. I'll make sure of it."
Ursa smiled in the darkness, satisfied.