1
He is five when he first firebends. He watches how his flame lights up the eyes of his older brother and the guards and servants in the royal garden. He has never felt the heat of his own fire before, and finds that he enjoys the sensation. So he does it again and again, all the while beaming at his own element.
Iroh claps him on the shoulder, lightly enough so he does not stumble under his brother's strength. "Come," kind, golden eyes greet him as he turns, "Let's go tell Father the great news."
Ozai takes Iroh's hand and they run past the servants and guards, pushing if they have to, and race through the door and down endless hallways until they reach their father's throne room.
The Crown Prince's presence makes it easy to gain an audience with the Fire Lord, and Ozai follows his brother's shadow, cast by the wall of fire that greets them. He comes to a stop when Iroh does, and squints up at the Fire Lord.
His father is but a shadow behind the flames. Ozai quietly wishes that he can bend that much fire one day, too.
But he wishes to see his father's face more.
"Father, we bring great news," Iroh announces, barely able to suppress the smile on his face. At their father's nod, Iroh turns to Ozai and drops to his knees. "Go on," he urges quietly. "Show him what you can do."
Ozai steps toward the dais and forgets what to do immediately. He looks over his shoulder, frightened. Iroh meets his gaze and his face lights up with a bigger smile.
"Breathe," Ozai sees his brother mouth.
He turns back to his father, still sitting behind his wall of fire, and does exactly as he is told.
He thrusts his fist out like he did earlier that morning, and a fireball, twice the size of the first one he made, sails toward the Fire Lord. Ozai steps back in horror when it tears through the wall and heads directly for his father, but the Fire Lord extinguishes it with a lazy wave of his hand.
Ozai falls into Iroh's arms, shaking as he watches his father rise from his throne. The Fire Lord waves his hand again, and the wall of fire shrinks along with his youngest son.
When he steps through and descends the stairs to meet his sons, Ozai bites back a cry.
"Show me again," Azulon says. Says, and not commands.
Ozai forgets all about his fear and gets back on his feet, Iroh holding his shoulders firmly. He meets his father's eyes, and sees that they are not harsh or unwelcoming.
So he firebends again. And again, and again until his father's lips curl upwards in a faint smile, approving. At first Ozai thinks it is the shadows and light playing tricks on him, but then Azulon gets on his knees so they are both level for once.
"We begin your training tomorrow, Prince Ozai."
It is in that moment that Ozai finally feels like his father's son.
2
He is on par with Iroh when he turns thirteen.
"Finally!" Ozai says as Iroh tumbles over. He is not sure who started laughing first, but basks in the moment as his brother hooks an arm around his neck and pulls him to the ground.
"I am so proud of you, little brother," Iroh smiles down at him, looking exhausted for once. Strands of hair hang loose, framing a face that reminds Ozai so much of their mother. Ozai does not tell him, but when Iroh smiles at him, he sees Ilah.
He pushes Iroh's arm away with a grin. "I'm not little anymore!" he announces, puffing his chest out for good measure. "I beat the Crown Prince!"
"Does that mean you can have my crown?"
It is a teasing remark, but Ozai takes it seriously. He remembers his place, and shakes his head until his world spins slightly.
"No, I can't! You're the Crown Prince. I'm not allowed to take your crown, no matter what I do," Ozai tells Iroh, but something tells him that he is reminding himself instead. He looks away. "It's not funny, Iroh."
"Don't take me so seriously, I was only joking." Iroh shifts up beside him and puts an arm around Ozai. "Anyway…your headpiece came off. Here."
Ozai stretches out his hand before he looks at Iroh. When he feels the weight in his hand, he looks down in surprise. The light bounces off the Crown Prince's headpiece brilliantly, and it is much heavier than he expects.
He nearly drops it, but Iroh swipes it before it hits the ground. In one swift movement, the proof of his brother's title was placed on his head, fitting in neatly with his topknot. Ozai rushes to the edge of the pond and looks into the water.
His reflection is not what he expects.
"Crown Prince Ozai," Iroh chuckles behind him.
Ozai does not tell him, but he sees Azulon in the water.
3
At fifteen, Ozai speaks with his father about his future.
They are standing at the edge of the balcony in the Fire Lord's suite, overlooking the expanse of their capital city. Ozai thinks about how glorious it would be to rule over this nation, but stops himself when he realizes it means he is wishing his brother dead.
"What happens after we win the war, Father?"
Azulon meets his gaze. There is something heavy in the man's golden eyes, dimming the light in them. "We rebuild this world and call it our own."
Ozai looks away, frightened by the look in his father's eyes. Frightened that Iroh would one day look the same, and frightened that he wanted to take over that weight instead.
"Is the Avatar really gone?" he asks.
"It seems that way," Azulon replies with a wistful tone. Ozai glances briefly at his father and sees the anguish in his eyes.
"You don't believe so."
"No, I do not."
"Brother isn't worried, but I am," Ozai inclines his head when Azulon looks at him. He has grown to avoid his father's watchful gaze over the years, as if afraid that Azulon knew his thoughts about the crown.
"What is the point of this observation, Prince Ozai? Speak your mind," Azulon commands. Commands, and not says. Ozai shrinks slightly at the heavy tone of his father's voice.
He fumbles for words like how he is fumbling with his hands.
"You need someone to continue the hunt," Ozai says. "If Iroh does not bother himself with the issue of the Avatar, then he will leave an open door for…" He stops when Azulon's eyes flash dangerously and suddenly finds it hard to breathe. Over the years, he has learnt it is easier to fear his father than love him.
"Watch yourself, Prince Ozai. You will not speak ill of the Crown Prince, especially not in my presence."
Ozai straightens his back and sucks in his breath. "Of course, Father. Forgive me."
The silence between them is heavy. Ozai is almost deafened by the noise of all they are not saying.
"You are not wrong, Prince Ozai," Azulon says a moment later, as if regretting his harsh tone from before. "The Water Tribes have not found their Avatar, and it is impossible for the Avatar spirit to be born into the Earth Kingdom." He clears his throat. "Your brother knows this as well as any of us. You should not fear."
"I don't," Ozai insists. He clenches his fists in a bid to keep his anger down. "But I feel like I don't have anything important to do except being the—the prince. Not that I don't like being your son, but I want to contribute to the war effort. I want to help. Let me hunt the Avatar."
Azulon's eyes turn curious, blazing in the light of the evening sun. For a moment it looks like he is about to say something, but then he raises his hand to stop Ozai.
"No."
"No?"
"I know your loyalties are with the Fire Nation and your father," Azulon says, "and that is enough for me to receive from you."
Ozai does not tell, but it is not enough for him to receive from his father.
4
Ozai is twenty when he meets his nephew.
Iroh is as proud as he's ever been, holding the new prince in his arms. Lu Ten is wrapped in red silk, the finest of the Fire Nation. Ozai studies his nephew carefully until Iroh lifts the baby up to him. He jumps back like a wary animal.
"What are you doing—"
"Well, go on," Iroh insists with a grin. "I know you want to hold him."
Ozai narrows his eyes. "No, I think I'd rather leave that to you. I might drop him."
As if aware of his rejection, Lu Ten bursts into tears. His wails fill the suite like an unending siren, grating on Ozai's nerves and eardrums. The Crown Prince looks just as alarmed as his brother and meets his gaze.
"Hold him!" Iroh takes a step forward.
Ozai steps back, gaze flicking from his brother to his new nephew. "He's your son!"
"Man up!"
Ozai finds himself holding Lu Ten before his actions register in his mind. His eyes widen in shock when the infant stops crying altogether and settles into his arms. Large, golden eyes stare up at him curiously and Ozai has to admit that it is an endearing sight.
"Well, well," Iroh chuckles. "My brother is good with children, after all!"
"And you're not? You're his father."
Iroh smiles. "I know." He claps Ozai on the back. "I can't wait to meet your children and hold them, one day."
"If I even have children," Ozai says. His gaze is still fixed on Lu Ten, and he begins to feel a pull towards the little child in his arms.
He does not tell, but he despises Lu Ten because he is further from the throne than ever.
5
When he is twenty-one, Ozai meets Ursa for the first time.
He immediately forgets that he is there for Lu Ten's first birthday, and draws up beside the beautiful woman quietly. She takes notices of his presence all too quickly, however, and steps away in shock. Ozai is about to tell her to stop when she breaks into a low bow, out of fear or reverence he will never know. His heart is hammering for reasons still unknown to him.
"Your Highness," she greets him. Ozai wonders how it is possible that her voice is so much like velvet and suppresses a shudder. "It is an honor to be in your presence."
He waves it off quickly and glances at her. "This ball was not thrown in honor of me," he says with a brief smile. "I thought I could blend in with the crowd, but I guess not."
She looks at him strangely, and it is the boldest anyone has ever been in front of him. He feels heat creeping up his neck and tugs at his collar. The air is too thick in the ballroom, he thinks irritably. Why did brother invite so many people?
"You want to blend in? Why?" Her voice snaps him out of his thoughts and he nearly jumps to attention. The effect she is having on him is nothing less than terrible, and Ozai regrets approaching her in the first place.
Ozai shrugs, but avoids her gaze. There is something almost devastating about her, a kind of beauty that can crush him if she knows how. "I don't like the attention." He nods towards the open balcony on the other side of the room. "Shall we?"
He knows it is only because of his title that she accepts. Ozai welcomes the breath of fresh, cold air as they step outside together.
"What is your name?" he asks, turning to her.
"Ursa, Your Majesty." She bows again, but Ozai stops her midway. His hands fall on her shoulder and he swears he feels electricity. He has only just begun lightning generation, but he has never felt sparks like these.
"No, stop," he tells her gently. "Don't treat me like my brother or my father. I am Ozai, and you will call me just that."
Ursa looks up at him with an uncertain smile on her lips. He shudders as he retracts his hands, and wonders what it is about Ursa that has him on edge. "If you insist…Ozai."
He does not tell, but he enjoys the way she says his name.