A/N: *screams cathartically*

Disclaimer: *more screaming*

Ursa, cont.

Once dear Korzu overcame his anxiety about treating a princess such as myself, I came to quite enjoy his company as I healed. He was sincere and awkwardly funny, traits that seemed hard to come by in the palace. I found comfort in his background working with the Fire Nation's rural populations and the simple treatment methods he'd learned from them. After all, they reminded me of my own mother's healing practices back home in Hira'a.

Of course, I wasn't able to tell him how much I appreciated his company at the time, or about our shared experiences as village healers. Azulon's warning about severing ties to my past lest I seem "ungrateful" still rang in my ears during the early months of my marriage. But Korzu's dedicated attention helped me regain my legs and voice almost entirely within a week or so of awakening from my strange coma. However, the ability to move and speak freely only presented new challenges in my life as a princess.

"Pull it tighter," Yuna told the tailor's assistant. Obediently, the girl tugged the sash even more snugly around Ursa's waist, making her suck in a breath. Once Korzu had cleared her for assuming normal palace activities, Yuna had arrived with an army of attendants and a list of tasks longer than a dragon's tail to "prepare the new princess." First and foremost had been fitting her for her formal princess attire. Ursa wondered if this was her punishment for ruining the wedding.

"Measure it," Yuna barked, then looked up at Ursa. "I'm afraid it can't be much looser than this, my lady. You are fortunate to have a slender frame."

Ursa nodded, wondering if she would pass out again the first time she had to wear these robes for an occasion. She knew better than to interpret Yuna's words as room for suggestion: Ursa may technically have been a princess now, but every servant in the palace was more likely to defer to Yuna.

It wasn't hard to see why. On closer look, Yuna was not as old as Ursa had initially thought; her hair was still dark and her hands were mostly smooth, so she had perhaps recently crossed forty years. Her appearance was aged by the deep scar that slashed across her face from left temple to right jawline, the wounded tissue masquerading as wrinkles. Whatever she had been through, surviving such an injury would have taken extraordinary strength, automatically prompting a measure of respect for her based on appearance alone.

She spoke again, drawing Ursa out of her thoughts. "Unfortunately, these robes won't be ready for your first royal dinner tonight, so you will have to make do with some pieces from the late Lady Ilah's wardrobe. The Fire Lord has given his permission."

"Tonight?" Ursa asked nervously as the assistant unwound the sash. She had enjoyed the brief reprieve from interacting with the royal family while still healing. Iroh had come by a couple of times to check on her briefly, but aside from that, she'd been pretty much left to Korzu's care.

"Of course. I'm certain Prince Iroh has missed his wife's company, and it has been ages since the royal family has had a woman at their dinner table." Yuna smiled, but there was something tight in it. "You needn't worry, my lady. I will make certain you are prepared, or you may have my resignation."

Ursa suspected the woman was speaking metaphorically again.

The hours before the dinner passed in a blur of memorizing noble names and faces, practicing dining etiquette, and learning the 'unspoken' rules of the palace. In all honesty, it wasn't too different from rehearsal for a show back in Hira'a: she had lines, blocking and costumes. Of course, after this performance, Ursa wouldn't be free to leave the character at the theater and be herself again. She would simply have to live as Princess Ursa forever.

At least acting helped a little in mastering the palace's intricacies, although it didn't make a significant difference considering how much there was to learn. Yuna quizzed her as the attendants prepared her for the dinner.

Ursa's hair was brushed and styled. She would pay her respects to the ceremonial seating for Lady Ilah, especially since she was wearing her late mother-in-law's robes to dinner. The pale red robes in question were carefully draped around Ursa's figure, golden embroidery shimmering in the light. She would not sit until the Fire Lord bade everyone to sit. She would then sit at Iroh's right (not his left!). Simple but elegant pieces of jewelry were added to the attire. She would not eat until both the Fire Lord and Iroh had begun eating (not just the Fire Lord!), but she did not have to wait for Prince Ozai, whom she technically outranked now. She would not leave her chopsticks sticking out inappropriately. The slow process of applying makeup began. She would not ask for another helping of food until Iroh did, and only if she was truly hungry. She would not speak unless spoken to.

With the way her stomach was tying itself into knots, she didn't think the last two rules would be an issue.

"Don't add too much lip color," Yuna advised as the attendants added the finishing touches. "It will be easier for you to eat that way, Princess."

Translation: Ursa was too incompetent to be trusted to dine properly while wearing a full face of makeup. She didn't care to be upset about the slight, though. Yuna was right: she had enough to worry about without adding the fear of smudging her lip makeup.

"Perfect," Yuna smiled at Ursa's appearance in the mirror, the warmest expression she had seen from the woman yet. "Don't you think she looks perfect, girls?"

The attendants nodded and chorused their agreement, polite smiles on all their faces.

"Good. I can attend to the princess myself from here. You are all dismissed for the night, with Her Highness's approval?" Yuna turned to Ursa out of formality more than anything.

She gave a quick nod of assent. "Yes, thank you. Good night."

They bowed and exited the room, leaving Ursa alone with Yuna.

"With your leave, Princess, I would like to speak to you about a more private matter before the dinner."

Ursa glanced up at her, feeling a fresh wave of nerves at the request. "Of course."

"Did your mother ever advise you on…your duties to your husband?"

The blood rushed to her face. Of course: now that she was well again, she would be expected to consummate her marriage and fulfill the Fire Sages' prophecy as soon as possible. Her hands instinctively tightened in her lap as she fought to steady her breathing and nodded.

"Good." There was something like sympathy in Yuna's expression for the first time. "Prince Iroh is a kind man. Listen to him well, and you might be spared some of the pain of your first time."

"Kind" seemed to have a different meaning when applied to the royal family, but Ursa supposed the word described Iroh more than his father or brother. He was formal, but he hadn't been harsh or lustful towards her so far. He had even given her some seemingly sincere reassurance after she'd told him her worries that someone had poisoned her. Perhaps, with Yuna's reassurance, she could hope that he wouldn't hurt her too much, if nothing else.

Ikem's earnest proposal flashed into her mind. She quickly banished the memory before she could start to cry.

"You should be aware, Princess," Yuna continued, "this particular robe was Fire Lord Azulon's present to Lady Ilah after the birth of the crown prince. He thought it would be auspicious attire for the occasion."

Ursa felt sick at the thought of facing the Fire Lord in his late wife's attire that he'd handpicked for her to wear for what was essentially her wedding night, especially given the context of this being Lady Ilah's birth present for Iroh. Azulon was clearly wasting no time securing his mighty Avatar-descended heirs.

"Would you like a moment before departing for dinner?" Yuna asked, seeming to read Ursa's distress.

Honestly, she would like an hour or so, maybe even a few days if possible. "No, thank you. I'm ready."

"Allow me to escort you to the royal dining room. Tomorrow will provide more ample opportunity to familiarize yourself with the palace." Yuna picked up the cane that Korzu had recommended Ursa use for longer walks and offered it to her.

Ursa knew now that her chamber was located in the crown prince's wing of the palace. Iroh's own chamber was on the other side of the hallway, with the entrances to their individual rooms being right across from each other. The implications were very clear.

Yuna murmured a few notes about palace history as they walked towards the dining room, which thankfully wasn't far. They passed the Royal Gallery, currently featuring Azulon in the place of honor, menacingly brandishing two fists of fire. Ursa wondered what Iroh's portrait would look like.

"Here, Princess. We're a bit early, but I thought you might like the time to collect your bearings." Yuna bowed. "I will not accompany you inside unless ordered; typically, only kitchen staff attend to the family in the meal."

Meaning that Yuna wasn't going to handhold Ursa through this dinner, and it would look childish of Ursa to ask her to. Nodding, she drew a deep breath and tried to project the attitude of a princess as the double doors to the dining room opened for her.

The only royal inside was Ozai. He was leaning back in his chair with his legs crossed brazenly on the table, the casual pose clashing with the finery of his attire. His eyes flicked over to Ursa.

"Oh, I didn't know you were coming tonight." He nodded at her, an attempt at the customary greeting from a younger royal to an elder that Yuna had taught her.

"I am fortunate to be feeling well," Ursa replied with a smile in what she hoped served as a good princess voice: confident but not forceful, smooth but not soft, with just a touch of musical flair. "I look forward to joining my new family for the first of many treasured dinners."

"Yeah, you don't have to do all that when Dad and Yuna aren't around." He yawned, jaw cracking. "She probably made you come here early, right? Tough luck - Dad and Iroh are in one of their war room meetings. It's going extra long tonight."

Ursa hesitated. Even if Ozai was right about not needing to be formal right now, she didn't want to drop her act when she was still so new to royal life.

"I don't mind waiting to dine with my husband," she said finally, opting to reduce some of the flowery language but still stick to the rules Yuna had taught her.

Ozai raised an eyebrow. "Well, you might get tired if you're going to stand and wait. Just keep an ear out and stand up when it sounds like Dad's on his way. That's what I do."

Her new shoes were starting to pinch a bit, and Korzu's warning about not staying on her feet for too long flashed in her mind even as Yuna's reminder to not sit until the Fire Lord says so battled against it. She grasped her cane a little more tightly as she tried to formulate a diplomatic response. "I understand, but I'd like to respect the traditions of the dinner for at least my first night."

"Suit yourself." The teenage prince rolled his eyes. "Dad's not going to care that much about what you do once you pop out some grandkids anyway."

The harsh words sliced through Ursa's act, and she replied almost reflexively, "Excuse me?"

He sneered, seemingly amused by seeing her upset. "You heard me, village girl."

Oh, she'd been through too much in too short of a time for this boy to be antagonizing her. "Prince Ozai, I left behind my past and my own desires to commit myself to a life as a future Fire Lady. I realize I did not have the luxury of simply being born into this palace, but I am working tirelessly to ensure I can one day oversee it at your brother's side. While you may not see the value in me or my role, I must insist that you at least treat me with the respect I am owed as a princess who is elder to you, if nothing else."

His eyes flashed as his sneer turned into a scowl. "Whatever."

"That means you won," Iroh's voice came from a corner of the room, startling both Ursa and Ozai, who nearly tipped over in his chair. The amusement on Iroh's face was illuminated as he drew closer, and she saw that he was dressed in armor from the war room meeting. "Apologies for the sudden entrance; I didn't feel like walking the long way around with Father, so I slipped through one of the tunnels."

This palace had tunnels? Ursa really did need a proper tour.

"You must be feeling much better if you can tell off Ozai," Iroh stopped in front of Ursa and assessed her appearance, tilting his head as he seemed to recognize her attire.

"I am, thanks to Korzu. I am also grateful to the Fire Lord for allowing me to borrow a robe from the late Lady Ilah for tonight."

Iroh nodded, suspicions confirmed. "I knew this looked familiar. I think I singed its sleeve once during a tantrum at some royal function." He glanced at Ursa's arms. "The tailors seem to have repaired the damage well."

"Or a toddler's firebending isn't actually that destructive," Ozai said in a tone that clearly indicated he didn't enjoy being embarrassed earlier.

"We thought you were a nonbender until you were six, so how would you know? Now stand up, the Fire Lord will be here soon."

Sure enough, Ozai had just gotten to his feet when the double doors were hauled open for the presence of the man inq uestion, who immediately frowned at Iroh. "You can't afford to spend much longer sneaking away from war room meetings, son."

"I can when it's dinnertime and you're already running late, Father." Iroh smiled, seemingly unafraid to tease Azulon a bit as he bowed from the waist in greeting. Ursa and Ozai copied the gesture.

"Forgive me for keeping a healing princess waiting," Azulon gestured at Ursa's cane. "It's good to see you are recovering, child. Don't feel the need to stand on my account if the physician says otherwise."

He seemed to be in an unexpectedly good mood. Ursa's mind scrambled for a response that wouldn't upset it. "Thank you, my lord, but I felt well enough tonight to wait for your presence."

"This old man appreciates your respect," he said with a smile. "And my dear Ilah's robe suits you wonderfully."

She remembered one of Yuna's instructions and recited the carefully-worded lines she'd been taught while being dressed. "I am endlessly grateful to you for allowing me access to her wardrobe for tonight, Fire Lord. I also wish to express my sentiment to the great lady directly, with your permission."

"Please do," Azulon gestured for her to walk with him towards Lady Ilah's ceremonial seat next to his chair at the head of the long table. She pursed her lips as her shoes continued to pinch, but thankfully made the journey. Now came her next lines.

"Lady Ilah, now passed, I am honored to appear before you in your cherished robe." She pressed her palms together and bowed to the chair as best as she could with her cane. "I ask for your blessing as I embark on my journey to become your successor, and I promise to treat your son and your legacy with the respect they deserve in return."

"She learns fast," Ozai muttered as Ursa straightened up.

Azulon looked at the younger prince with white-hot fury in his eyes. Fear shot through Ursa at the sight, and one of her knees buckled. She caught herself on the edge of the table as her cane clattered to the floor.

"Look what you're doing, agitating a sick princess," Azulon snapped at Ozai. "Iroh, help your wife to her seat."

In an instant, Iroh was next to her, offering his hand. She took it gratefully, stealing a glance at his expression in the process. He had tensed up as well following Azulon's outburst, but his eyes were focused on her.

"Are you alright?" he asked as she shakily straightened up.

She nodded, then glanced down. "My cane…"

He waved at a servant to pick it up and follow them as he steered her to her chair. Azulon sat down and nodded, prompting Iroh, Ozai and Ursa to take their own seats as well. Ursa was grateful for Iroh serving as a barrier between herself and the Fire Lord. Ozai, seated to Azulon's left, had no such protection as his father shot him another disapproving look.

"Do you enjoy history, Princess Ursa?" Azulon asked as the servants began flitting about to pour drinks and serve food.

"Yes, my Lord." The rote memorization of historical names and dates in school had never interested her, but she was fascinated by the dramatic stories that were featured in her textbooks.

"Well, my father Fire Lord Sozin started the practice of the royal family dining privately shortly after I was born. It used to be that we dined with the court and nobility every night, as is standard in the Earth Kingdom. However, my father believed our family would grow stronger through increased loyalty to each other if we prioritized spending one meal a day together." Azulon took a sip of wine. "He was a more brilliant strategist than I, and I confess, I greatly value this time with my family."

Anything Ursa could think to say about the importance of family involved her parents, who weren't supposed to exist anymore. "I am honored to be joining your esteemed father's wise tradition," she responded finally. "A strong family is the foundation of any successful legacy."

Azulon nodded and turned his attention to the plates of dumplings that were being set on the table.

"Princess," a servant placed a small cup of bone broth in front of her, "The physician Korzu recommends this to start your meal and advises you to avoid fatty meats."

"Thank you." She was starting to get a bit tired of broth, but she couldn't fault Korzu's caution; she was literally the most important person he had ever treated.

"He drinks that slop for fun, I think." Iroh said to her. Across the table, Azulon began to interrogate Ozai about his firebending training as he ate.

"It tastes perfectly fine, it's just that I've had a lot of broth recently. But it seems to be working." She picked up the cup as delicately as she could and hoped she didn't make a fool of herself as she sipped at it.

"Korzu is simple, but effective. It's more than I can say for much of the pomp that takes place around here."

Iroh may have been able to scoff at palace traditions with impunity as the crown prince, but Ursa was very aware of the fact that she was in full earshot of the Fire Lord. She took another sip as she mulled over the most diplomatic response. "I imagine that growing up with the etiquette of royal life might have chafed at a young boy."

"You would imagine correctly." He placed a dumpling in his mouth.

Belatedly, Ursa realized she'd accidentally begun eating before him. She tensed up - would she be reprimanded?

Iroh, who was proving himself to be quite observant, noticed her stress quickly. "Is something wrong? If you're going to throw up again, I encourage you to aim it at Ozai this time."

Despite herself, a nervous giggle escaped her. "No, I- I started eating before you. I'm sorry, I forgot."

"Oh, that old rule." Iroh picked up another dumpling. "I don't mind. Just don't forget when my father happens to be watching."

The knot in her stomach eased. Azulon and Ozai's conversation had escalated into an argument, and neither of them were paying her any mind. Iroh shook his head at the sight while he chewed.

"I apologize, but I'm going to have to use you as an excuse to interrupt this," he whispered to her. She nodded and quickly drained the rest of her broth. "Father," he raised his voice once she finished, "why don't you tell Princess Ursa about the Autumn Festival?"

Azulon turned away from Ozai with a huff. "The Autumn Festival is an important tradition in the capital, child. It serves as a celebration of the vitality of the Fire Nation as we exit our peak season of power, the summer, and encourages the people's spirits as winter draws near. It is also a favorite of mine."

"My mother was in charge of it when she was alive," Iroh added. "She took me with her on the customary procession around the country."

That would explain how he had gotten his start as a traveler. "It sounds like a very valuable event," she said politely.

"It's good you think so," Azulon said. "Since you've officially married into our family, I thought it might be your responsibility to plan the event."

Iroh stiffened next to her. Ursa blinked. There was a clear challenge being extended.

"Is that necessary, Father? It's only three months away. The governors' spouses have managed the festival so far - surely they can do so for another year while Princess Ursa continues to heal and adjust to palace life."

"It is tradition for the eldest royal spouse to oversee the festival, Iroh. It symbolizes our family's connections to the various lands that make up our great nation. When your mother died, the governors' spouses knew that the festival was only a temporary duty until you were wed. I'm sure Princess Ursa doesn't want to shirk her responsibility." Azulon directed his last sentence right at her.

"Of course not," she responded quickly. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Ozai's small smirk. "It is an honor to be entrusted with your favorite festival, my lord, and with your precious concern for my well being, my husband. I look forward to learning the traditions for this auspicious celebration."

"See, son? Your wife is perfectly capable." Azulon took a bite of his Komodo chicken and immediately wrinkled his nose. "How much money do we spend on salt for so much of it to be on my plate?"

As the Fire Lord turned his attention to berating a servant, Iroh gave Ursa a curious look. "Have you done much traveling before?"

"No," she admitted, "but this seems like a wonderful opportunity to start." Her chopsticks gathered up a delightfully stretchy helping of hand-pulled noodles.

"You know, it's also tradition for the crown prince to join the island procession, as a way of getting to know the people. I've done it every year except the year my mother passed."

Ursa's heart jumped into her throat. So, she would have to plan the Fire Lord's favorite festival, and then execute it under the watchful eye of her new husband who was a veritable expert on the event. "It is fortunate that you will be accompanying me on my first real journey," she told him with a smile.

"If you say so." He signaled a servant to refill his empty bowl with more noodles.

Had he protested her responsibility for the festival because he didn't want to travel with her on a journey that had previously been for his mother, and then him alone? There was no point mulling over that question now, but she knew the anxious thought would still eat at her during the next few months.

The dinner subsequently fell into a routine that didn't present many more challenges. Azulon asked a few simple questions about how she was enjoying the meal and the palace. Iroh and Ozai got into a couple of heated debates, including one over the Camellia-Peony War that Iroh seemed to win. Ursa didn't spill any food on herself and successfully avoided breaking any more rules.

As the minutes ticked towards the inevitable end of the meal, she found herself becoming acutely aware of Iroh's body next to her. His hands were large and callused - she recalled the feeling of them as he'd led her around the ceremonial fire at the wedding. He was clean shaven, but there was still faint stubble running along his jawline. The armor served to accentuate the broadness of his shoulders and chest, and although his arms were covered by his sleeves, there was no hiding the strength of his stocky build.

"Listen to him well, and you might be spared some of the pain of your first time."

Dessert, a mouth-watering assortment of miniature fruit pies, was tasteless in her mouth.

"This old man needs his rest," Azulon declared once the pies had been polished off. "Good night, my sons, Ursa."

Ursa, Iroh and Ozai all stood and bowed to Azulon before exiting the dining room, with Ursa in particular feeling nothing short of nauseous. Maybe she could force herself to vomit again and delay her marital duties for a bit longer. Then again, the Fire Lord might be impatient enough to force her regardless of her condition.

"Princess Ursa?" Iroh held a bent arm out to her. Ozai had already vanished. "Do you need assistance?"

Not wanting to risk another fall, she nodded and laid her hand at the crook of his elbow as Yuna had demonstrated for her that morning. "Thank you." She was grateful to have him as a guide, at least; it would be very easy for her to become lost in the grand hallways of the palace without him walking her towards their chambers.

"Of course. How did you like your first royal dinner?"

"I greatly enjoyed it. The chefs of the royal kitchen deserve every commendation."

"They work tirelessly." He leaned towards her to whisper the next part. "My father is just picky about his Komodo chicken."

Ursa nodded neutrally, before asking the question that had wriggled into her mind at dinner. "You said something about tunnels in the palace earlier?"

"Oh, yes. You'll need a tour of those. I'm not technically supposed to use them as much as I do since they're mainly an emergency evacuation route. Only the royal family and select members of our staff know their locations."

"Fascinating," she said sincerely. Hidden palace tunnels were exactly the kind of dramatic flair her actress self adored. "How long have they existed?"

"I believe Fire Lord Sozin had them built after the Avatar attacked the palace in 37 BG."

A wave of something like shock crashed over Ursa. Her grandfather had attacked the palace. What could have prompted him to do such a thing?

Iroh cast her a sidelong glance, seeming to remember that the Avatar in question was her grandfather. "It was over a century ago, before the beginning of the war and even my father's birth. We may be shaped by the past, but we are not defined by it."

Meaning he wasn't going to hold her grandfather's actions against her, if she was interpreting his proverbial sentiment correctly. "A most noble notion," she agreed softly.

The crown prince's wing of the palace drew near. Ursa's heart began to pound.

"What is your favorite meal?" He asked.

"Hm?"

"The chefs try to feature a different family member's preferred dish everyday. Komodo chicken is my father's favorite. What's yours?"

"Oh, um…" She was starting to run out of 'princess voice.' "Loco moco. But I suppose it's not really palace food."

"If it's what you like, it can be made into 'palace food.'" As they approached the entrance to his chamber, his manservants bowed before pushing open the double doors for them.

Ursa mechanically smiled at the men, but her blood was roaring in her ears. She followed Iroh's lead into the room, briefly registering that she was in what seemed to be his personal study. He continued further in, holding open another grand door. "Here, Princess," he waved her ahead of him, "make yourself comfortable."

Iroh's bedroom was significantly larger than hers, with what seemed to be a kettle and tea set carefully placed atop his ornate nightstand. Like most rooms in the palace, strategically placed lamps cast warm firelight over the space. Tall windows, which were thankfully covered, occupied one wall, and his wardrobe and dressing area took up the opposite. Of course, Ursa was most concerned about the four-poster bed, complete with a canopy, that lay against the center of the third wall. Iroh closed the door as he stepped in behind her.

"Can I offer you anything? Water, tea?"

Her old life back, or at least the chance to lose her virginity to the man she actually loved. "No, thank you."

Iroh was only about half a head taller than her, but the breadth and strength of his body had become even more evident as they'd walked together. As he hovered behind her, Ursa felt vaguely like prey caught in a corner. "Well," he said quietly, "let's not delay."

His hand at the small of her back guided her towards that looming, ominous bed. She perched uneasily on the edge of the mattress, watching him take off his bulky armor. Logically, she ought to be removing her own clothing too, but her arms were suddenly as heavy as tree trunks. He stripped off his outer robe as well before glancing at her, thin tunic and trousers doing little to obscure the shape of his well-muscled upper body. "Would you like assistance?"

Her tongue felt like it had swollen to twice its size in her dry mouth. She nodded.

"These are intricate robes," Iroh said, not unkindly. "Here, stand and turn around."

The sash that had been so carefully wound around her waist a few short hours ago came undone with a couple of firm tugs. His large hands moved upwards, brushing her hair aside to unclasp her necklace. It was so deliberate and intimate, the way this prince who was basically a stranger was undressing her. Ursa felt her eyes begin to sting.

"Are you able to manage the rest?" he asked. She nodded, holding back tears, and steeled herself for the next part.

The heavily embroidered outer robe from the late Lady Ilah was easy to remove now that the sash had been undone. Ursa briefly wondered if the woman had also been afraid when she'd first lain with Azulon, or if she had simply been honored to bear his children. She shrugged the robe to the floor and stepped out of her shoes, feeling very self-conscious in just her undergarments. Once she removed the cotton slip and underskirt, she would be in just her breast band and loincloth…and then…

A sob burst from her, and it was quickly followed by a dozen more as she began to weep.

Iroh's hand settled on her shoulder. She flinched, waiting for him to forcefully strip her bare and shove her to the bed. Instead, he turned her around to face him. She peered up at him, her vision swimming with tears, afraid of what she would find.

His warm eyes were watching her with the same mix of pity and thoughtfulness she'd seen in them when she'd first awoken from her coma. Somehow, it reassured her: this was not the expression of a man who was enjoying her plight. As her crying slowed, he removed his hand from her shoulder and folded his arms.

"The prophecy that brought you here," he said slowly, clearly still formulating his thoughts. "says that our…offspring…would be of immense power." He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "If one believes in such things, as my father does, then one must also have faith that the future is set. You and I are married, and if this prophecy is meant to be, then it will come to pass in its own time. When we are both ready."

"I don't understand," she sniffed, feeling rather pathetic. It had only been one day, and she was already so tired of speaking in the flowery language of Princess Ursa, of trying to keep up with all the palace residents' roundabout passive-aggressive manners of communications.

"I'm not going to force you to lie with me, Ursa," he said bluntly. "You're still healing, and you clearly don't want this. We'll worry about the 'prophesied bloodline' once you've adjusted more."

Ursa felt like she might pass out from the relief that flooded her. "Thank you." It was the most sincere gratitude she'd felt since coming to the palace, and it brought a real smile to her face as she wiped away the last of her tears.

"It's nothing. Sleep here, though. That way no one will report to my father that we haven't consummated our marriage yet. I'll spend the night in my study."

"But this is your bed," she protested. "You should sleep here, and I can go to the study." It was a small price to pay.

"I'm not letting a sick woman sleep on a couch when there's a perfectly good bed available."

The most obvious solution was for both of them to share the spacious bed, but Iroh didn't seem any more interested in that than Ursa, and she certainly wasn't about to bring it up. Instead, she murmured another thanks as she sank down onto the mattress, completely worn out from the emotional turmoil she'd experienced. The palace really did have lovely beds, and this one was even more plush and luxurious than hers.

Iroh placed his hands on his hips and began pacing around the room, clearly thinking about something. Ursa noticed that his new posture exposed more of his toned chest and quickly looked up at the canopy of the bed. There was a surprisingly intricate pattern embroidered inside with golden thread that shimmered delightfully in the lamplight.

"Here." A maroon night robe landed on the mattress next to Ursa. "Take off your garments and put that on. The servants might get suspicious if you're still wearing your own clothing in the morning."

She hadn't even thought of that. The robe, clearly one of Iroh's, was soft in her arms as she gathered it up and slipped behind the ornate dressing screen to change. Although she was hidden from Iroh's view, she still felt very self-conscious as she stripped bare and carefully put her arms through the sleeves of his robe. It thankfully wasn't terribly long on her, but the shoulders threatened to slip off even with the sash tied as tightly as possible. She pulled her hair out of its topknot to help further hide her neck and collarbones from view and wiped off her makeup with a hot towel, no doubt placed there in preparation for the prince's return by some dedicated servant.

Iroh had pulled the blankets back on his bed and was busy rifling through the sheets, thoroughly mussing them. Ursa realized what he was trying to make it look like, and her face grew warm.

"Toss your undergarments next to the bed, in case the servants come in here before you wake up," he instructed.

Despite feeling shy about lewdly throwing her intimate wear onto the floor, she obeyed. It was better than the alternative. "Won't they be suspicious if they see you sleeping in the study?"

"I'm always awake at the crack of dawn, well before they come in to tidy."

"You've…really thought this through," Ursa couldn't help but note. She absentmindedly wriggled her bare feet into the thick carpet as she spoke; it felt pleasant on her aching soles.

"There are a lot of princely duties I try to avoid." He stepped back from the bed, seemingly satisfied with his work, and gestured for her to sit. "I'm not much of an actor, so I've learned how to show my father what he wants to see instead of lying to him directly."

She'd never considered that the life of the crown prince might come with unwanted obligations. It occurred to her for the first time that he might not be happy with this marriage either. After all, he'd very much phrased the prophecy as something his father believed, not him. Maybe there had been an elegant noblewoman he was eying, or maybe he just didn't want to be tied to her. She wasn't sure if it was better or worse that he was also a reluctant party in this relationship.

Well, it was better in at least one way, she thought to herself as she sat back down on the now-rumpled bed. If he shared his father's intensity about those prophesied heirs… Ursa shuddered. For the moment, she was definitely safer with Iroh being a reluctant husband.

"Are you cold?" Iroh had noticed her shiver.

She glanced up at him. "Oh, no. Someone's talking to my spirit."

He stared at her with a bemused expression. "What?"

"Do people not use that here?" She felt self-conscious as she pulled up the shoulder of the too-large robe. "I learned growing up that when you get that little involuntary shudder down your spine, it's because someone's trying to talk to you from the spirit world. It's just a silly saying."

"Huh. I haven't heard that before, but I suppose we don't have a lot of 'silly sayings' in the capital." He half-smiled, then seemed to hesitate before sitting on the other side of the bed and continuing to speak. "Do they care very much about the spirits in Hira'a?"

Based on Azulon's warning before her wedding, Ursa had been under the impression that she wasn't supposed to talk about her life before marriage. But here was Iroh asking her about it directly, and they were alone in his bedroom. Surely, she couldn't be faulted for sharing.

"We weren't overly spiritual, but we had our superstitions. There was this forest nearby, Forgetful Valley, that was supposed to be full of spirit creatures, so we were always taught not to go there. And many of the plays we rehearsed were old tales about spirits. But it was nothing extraordinary."

"I believe I have read of Forgetful Valley before. You never visited?"

"Never," she shook her head vehemently. "As far as I know, no one who has entered that forest has ever returned. Rumor says only the most heartbroken people desperate to forget their lives go there."

"That's what the books say too. It's fascinating. I wonder if the spirits there really do help people forget, or if it's just a rumor." Iroh's eyes were shining as he spoke. He was genuinely interested in this, Ursa realized. She hadn't heard much talk of the spirits since leaving Hira'a; even the Fire Sages at their wedding had only paid obeisance to the Fire Lord and the power of the sun before deeming them married.

"Do you study the spirits, then?"

"A bit. They intrigue me," he admitted. "It's not commonplace to care for them in the capital, but historically speaking, that's a very recent development. In my grandfather Sozin's time, the royal family claimed it had the right to rule because spirit blood still flowed in our veins. Likely hogwash, of course, but it shows how important the spirits used to be. It's only after the war began that they started losing importance in the capital, so I'm always interested to hear if the rest of the country is facing the same phenomenon."

"I'm afraid I can't speak to much outside of Hira'a."

"That's alright. This is one of the reasons I enjoy traveling for the Autumn Festival. I first learned about the spirit world as a boy through the festival by watching the different islands and provinces incorporate their local spirits and traditions into the celebration. Every year, the traditions change just a bit, but it all adds up to a bigger shift in belief across the country that's impressive to observe in real time."

"I see," Ursa couldn't help but be drawn into Iroh's words. He would have been an excellent teacher in another life. "It does really sound like an exciting festival."

"It is, and you'll have lots of help planning it. I'm sorry if I sounded like I didn't trust you to handle it at dinner. Three months is a shorter timeframe, but it's doable."

She didn't want to think about the gargantuan task that stood ahead of her right now, so she just nodded quickly before veering the conversation back to him. "Have you taken your travels outside the Fire Nation before?"

"No, not yet. That's what I planned to do after finishing my studies, before I have to spend more time training with the military."

What he'd planned to do. The choice of words wasn't lost on Ursa. Marrying her hadn't been part of his plan.

"I still think I can see some of the Earth Kingdom, maybe through visits to army outposts now that Dad wants me to get involved in the war effort. The real challenge is making it to the Water Tribes, or finding what's left of the Air Temples…" He drifted off, noticing she was quiet. "I'm keeping you awake with my rambling. I apologize, Princess."

The title of Princess slammed shut whatever door had been opened during their spontaneous spirit talk. "Would you like a cup of tea before bed?" He continued, formality returning to his tone. "I usually prepare one for myself."

She really was getting tired, but tea sounded nice. "If you're making it anyway, I would appreciate a cup."

There was the kettle and tea set on his nightstand that Ursa had noticed earlier, and he produced tea leaves from one of the drawers, but she didn't see a place for a fire. Her half-asleep mind wondered how he was going to boil the water. She realized it had been a foolish thought as Iroh assembled a bowl of tea leaves, picked up the kettle, and lit a small fire beneath it with his hand.

"The servants fill it with water for me each evening," he explained as he noticed Ursa watching.

She nodded, but she was more interested in the mechanics of his firebending. Her mother was a bender, but she hadn't really practiced the ability beyond using it to start a cooking fire. What Iroh was doing, producing a slow, sustained flame, was unlike anything she'd seen in Hira'a. Even the young people who practiced their firebending for combat as part of the town's militia just flung their flames about wildly.

"Is it very difficult to boil a kettle like that?" she couldn't help asking.

"Perhaps for a beginner." There was a hint of pride in his voice. "I've done it this way for years. It's a deceptively challenging test for firebending students, though, to make sure they have enough mastery to produce a constant flame over an extended period of time."

It made sense that the crown prince would be a highly-trained firebender. It was his destiny from birth, to lead the nation to glory in the war, which would be difficult to do without some form of combat skill. Still, watching the small flame dance in his hand, Ursa felt entranced. There was a beauty to that fire that transcended even the elegance of this room.

"Ah, here we go." Iroh allowed the fire to dissipate as the kettle began to boil. He poured the water into the bowl of tea leaves and quickly covered it with a lid. "Just a couple more minutes."

Despite the finery of his kettle and dishes, Iroh's method of brewing tea was the same simple one her mother used. Once the brew was ready, he used the lid to the bowl to hold back the leaves as he poured.

"Chrysanthemum is supposed to calm the mind," he explained, handing her a cup. "I'll let you enjoy it in peace. Good night, Princess Ursa." With a wave of his hand, he extinguished the lamps in the room except for the one next to the bed.

"Good night, Prince Iroh."

He vanished into the study with his own cup, closing the door behind him. For the first time in what felt like ages, Ursa was alone. She held the hot drink to her lips and tentatively took a sip. It immediately warmed her body from head to toe, easing the last remnants of her tension from the day.

"Aisha is the only one in the palace who can brew a respectable cup. Aside from me."

At least she knew he hadn't been bragging about his abilities. It was a mere statement of fact: Iroh made excellent tea. She added that detail to the picture of her husband that was slowly forming in her mind. Between his curiosity about the spirits and his apparent reluctance to fulfill some of his father's wishes, it was evident that the crown prince was not just a younger replica of the Fire Lord as she'd initially feared. Maybe Yuna had not simply been showing deference when she'd described him as kind.

Ursa finished her tea and extinguished the last lamp before laying down to sleep, feeling much calmer as Iroh had predicted. Under the door to the study, she could see the flicker of candlelight, and she wondered if he was reading about spirits again.

A/N: I…did not mean for this to be this long, or to not have any scene breaks, or to be entirely from Ursa's POV, but it just sort of happened? I guess she needs a lot of attention as she adjusts to the palace anyway. I'll try to give Iroh more pagetime soon.