The Turtleduck Mother {ON HOLD}

Chapter 3

Ursa ran. She needed to see Zuko one last time. As she ran past the courtyard, she threw the knife, dirty with Azulon's blood, into the bushes. Then, she was in Zuko's room.

“Mom?” he said sleepily. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing, baby, nothing.” She gave herself the luxury of caressing his head. Holding her baby one last time.

“Mom--”

“Shh, shh,” she whispered, fighting off tears. “I love you, Zuko, remember that. Don't ever give up. Don't forget my love for you and spread it to others around you. I love you.” Then, she pulled herself away, and lay her Zuko's head back on the pillow. Tenderly, she kissed his forehead, her lips lingering wistfully. Then she was swept away and out the door, in the flowing folds of her skirts.

Now, she let the tears flow freely down her face. They dripped off her chin and hit the path as she ran. Stopping quickly at her quarters, she retrieved a dark cloak and a pre-packed bag of supplies. She stepped out into the hallway and was about to dash away, but a figure stood in her path. Ozai.

“Ursa,” he said, his voice deep and raspy. “What have you done?” Ursa couldn't answer. She couldn't breathe. What was he going to do to her? To answer her question, Ozai raised his palm and in it, a small flame flickered. Oh, no.

Ursa was not a firebender, and she had thrown her weapon into the shrubbery. She was completely defenseless, completely vulnerable. Her eyes widened, the fire reflecting in her irises. “Ozai, please,” she begged, quietly. He walked forward. Ursa closed her eyes, waiting for the pain. She flinched when his finger brushed her cheek. She opened her eyes and her husband's eyes, hard and cruel, greeted her.

“Come,” he ordered, guiding her down the hall by the arm. Ozai led her to Azulon's bedchamber. Ursa shivered at the sight of the bloody body on the bed, the life of a man she had been the one to end. “Help me,” Ozai whispered in her ear. Silently, she obeyed, uncertain of what he had planned. Together, they burned the bloody sheets on the bed and replaced them with new ones. They bandaged the dead man's wounds so that the blood would not leak through and dressed him in new sleeping clothes, again burning the dirtied ones.

When they were finished, Ozai began searching Azulon's desk. Then, he stopped, obviously finding what he was looking for. Beckoning Ursa over, she cautiously looked over his shoulder. In his hand was the Will of Firelord Azulon. Her eyes widened. He wasn't really going to....but then again, this was her husband, this was Ozai. He would do whatever he had to to get what he wanted.

Finding the part in the will about Azulon's successor, Ozai crossed out the part about Iroh, his first born. Then, he handed Ursa the paint and ink. “You're writing is neater than my own,” Ozai said. “Copy the handwriting for the rest of the Will and say it was his dying wish to deny Iroh the throne and have me as heir to the throne.”

Ursa was breathing hard. Slowly, she dipped the brush into the ink. Careful so that it didn't drip on the parchment, Ursa painted in the words Ozai had spoken. She had to steady her shaking hand in order to keep the words as straight as possible. When she was done, she stood and Ozai wrapped his arms around her, crushing her body against his.

“That you for doing this for me, Ursa,” he whispered. Ursa did not hug him back, but rather stood their still.

“I didn't do it for you.” Ozai drew away, immediately, anger in his eyes. “I did it for the son you were willing to murder just because he got in your way.”

With a crack! Ozai slapped her across the face. Ursa fell to the ground, holding her face. Pain burned through her jaw, and tears blurred her vision.

“Stupid woman,” Ozai hissed. “I was almost going to let you live.” Roughly, this time, he grabbed her arm, and dragged her to her feet and out of the room. His pace was so fast, she had to jog to keep up, stumbling a few times. A few minutes later, they were out of the palace and out into the city. Quietly, Ozai snuck them past the guards and down an alley.

Ursa quivered when he suddenly stopped in the dark, narrow deadend. “If you scream, your precious boy won't see tomorrow,” Ozai whispered to her. He began to back slowly away, still facing her.

“He's your son, too, Ozai,” Ursa said defiantly, straightening her small frame. Then, a fireball was zooming towards her. She had no time to react. She stood there as it hit her. Falling towards the stone ground, Ursa remembered the day she and Zuko fed the turtleducks, their little flippers kicking the water and the protective mother. She saw her boy's frightened face as darkness overcame her.