Author's Note:I suspect there will only be about four or five parts to this story, so it will be rather short. Either way, enjoy.

Rated:M

Part 1

Ursa felt uncomfortable underneath his gaze. It was formidable and made her feel stripped of her clothing. She felt a harsh, embarrassing blush creep up onto her cheeks, but tried to fight it off. She turned her head to the side, wishing he wasn't so blatantly staring at her. Her neck grew hot and in that moment she honestly wished she could Earthbend - simply so that she may create a large hole right where she was standing and allow the ground to swallow her up.

"Is something wrong, dear?" Her mother asked, her painted lips smiling pleasantly, though Ursa knew she must not have been pleased with that fact that her eldest daughter was on the verge of making a scene.

"Of course not, mother. I apologize if I somehow indicated otherwise." She bowed slightly, careful to maintain her balance; she wasn't used to the heavy material of her dress robes and the gesture almost made her wobble. Nevertheless, she straightened her back, albeit without grace, and walked away, determined to find a place to distance herself away from the stare that made her so uncomfortable.

Settling down on the alcove right outside of the entrance of the Fire Nation's royal ball room, Ursa allowed herself to relax for a moment, now that she was away from the prying eyes and lingering gazes of the noblemen crowding the event. She rested her head against the wall behind her and let out a deep sigh she didn't know had been in her.

She hasn't been in the Fire Nation capital for long – this was her first visit, in fact, since she was but a young child, too infantile to truly remember anything from her trip – but already she had been able to pick up on the large cultural difference been the motherland and its colonies. Everything was so formal on the mainland, she noted; though, Ursa supposed, that was likely due to the constant presence of royalty and noblemen, alike. They hardly received any visitors in the colonies, at least not on the island she lived on, that she knew of, but when they did, they were usually generals or captains who held meetings with her step-father.

The men who visited the island were never anything short of polite, though they did seem a little distant, she always thought. Nonetheless, the formalities were never an issue, as her mother and step-father usually shooed her and her younger brother, Haun, out of the house so that they could properly greet and entertain their guests the moment their arrival was announced.

The men here though, Ursa noticed as soon as she arrived at the capital, were not as pleasant as they acted in the colonies. Here the men were more obvious about their lingering stares and ogles. They still maintained a somewhat respectfully distance though, probably as a result of the utmost obedience and formality required of them by the Fire Lord; and for that she was extremely grateful, as their stares always made her feel embarrassed – she was unused to the idea of male attention and didn't think it was too proper to socialize for too long with a man whose impure intentions were abundantly clear.

Ursa's fingers trailed over the golden silk threads of her dress skirts and wondered where her mother had secured such a fine set of robes for her. Sure, she knew her mother would have no trouble paying for something so intricately stitched, as she had remarried into nobility when Ursa was young, of course; but in all honesty, Ursa spent so little time in formal dress robes (she thought them too confining and restricting for school or leisure activities) that she wondered how her mother had found the right measurements to tailor the dress to fit her body perfectly. She certainly never asked Ursa to pose for any type of costuming fitting…

Nevertheless, it was a fine garment, smooth to the touch and beautifully and intricately threaded, though heavy with all the thick under-skirts underneath the inner robe.

Her mind elsewhere, so busy concentrating on the fingers that are sailing over the hem of her sleeve, tracing a red-beaded dragon, that Ursa did not pay heed to the soft whisper of footsteps that approached her until she finally noticed a figure overshadow her.

Looking up, Ursa instantly flushed, and nervously stood, bowing deeply before hesitantly meeting his gaze once again. "Your Grace," she murmured. His stare was as scorching as ever.

"Lady Ursa," he responded, his voice smooth and sounding so much more mature and refined than her own.

She wished to fill the silence that has fallen upon them, as it made the moment that stretched between them quite unbearable – but that was solely what it was: a moment, nothing more that a couple of seconds, but it still made her uncomfortable. She waited to be prompted to speak, as her mother had taught her when she was younger. Usually the rule only applied to elders and honored guests, but Ursa assumed it extended to the crowned Prince of the Fire Nation as well.

Finally he spoke, "I noticed you left the ballroom."

It was not a question – nor an accusation; his tone was not in any way afflicting. It was simply a statement. Still, Ursa could understand the tone behind it. And now she knew she must explain herself.

"Yes, Your Grace, I was feeling unwell and decided a moment alone to collect myself might help."

"Hmm." He nodded, in a way that conveyed understanding, but Ursa suspected that he simply did this for her benefit, as he did not seem to be able to tear that awful, scorching look away from her. It must have been so obvious, she thought, that I wanted avoid him, with my face so red and and my behavior so dumbfounded. "If you are feeling so unwell," he began, taking a step back and gesturing towards the wide hallway beside them that led back towards the main quarters of the palace, "perhaps you shall allow me to escort you back to your room, so that you might take the rest of the evening off, recovering."

Ursa did not move. "No, no, I couldn't possibly impose on you like that." She felt her blush rising even higher and knew for a fact that being along – more alone than she already was – with this man was not a good idea. "I really must be getting back to my family; they'll wonder where I went off to…" she lowered her head, avoiding his eyes, hoping to convey a certain submission, as to not offend him with her decline to his offer.

"I'll escort you back." He left no time for further argument and instead placed his large hand on the small of her back, and began to guiding her down the hallway.

"I really must – !"

"Do not fret over it." His deep voice was firm and unrelenting, she could tell.

She allowed him to show her through the hall and fidgeted with her with her fingers underneath the long sleeves on her robes. She was unsure of whether she should say something or not. She was unused to being in the presence of royalty, growing up so far way from the Fire Nation capital, and didn't understand some of the customs she had seen others adhere to here. Should she prompt conversation? Remain silent until he spoke first, again? Should she ask him why his eyes had been on her all evening?

Her stomach was a bundle of nerves and didn't calm at all when he finally spoke.

"Lady Ursa, do you know how long your family will be visiting the capital?" he asked, leading her down a dimmed corridor.

She shook her head slowly, "No, Your Grace, my parents haven't really mentioned how long our holiday will last – though I assume we will be here until your brother's coronation, at least." She smiled lightly, hoping to brighten the solemn conversation with her mention of the Prince's elder sibling, Iroh.

He did not return her smile, but simply held her gaze with his golden eyes until she relented and turned away, once again focusing on her fidgeting fingers. She continued anxiously: "You must be excited, though, right? And proud of your brother as well?"

"The coronation has been postponed," he said promptly, "my brother will be leaving the capital, soon, to serve his country."

This was news to Ursa – as far as she knew, Prince Iroh was scheduled to replace his father as Fire Lord at least by end of this month. Still, Ursa never made it a point to discuss politics with neither her mother, nor her step-father. Maybe this had already been announced and she was just making herself seem ignorant. She had never taken heed to any topics concerning the royal family before – living on a secluded Fire Nation colony and all – but still, in the eyes of any citizen from the motherland, she must have seemed foolish for not knowing the most current events.

"Oh," she paused for a second, not knowing how to continue, "my apologizes, Your Grace. I-…I was not now aware that your brother would be taking on a military position. Is there a specific venture he is interested in pursuing?"

Ursa had only been introduced to the older prince once during her visit; still, the older gentleman had seemed kind-hearted to her, smiling widely as introductions and greetings were being made. He had expressed interest in Ursa when her mother mentioned her skill at watercolor portraits, which had made Ursa blush, not used to the attention she was receiving. Prince Iroh had given his wife a quick kiss on her cheek and said that he would be delighted if Ursa would be willing to paint a family portrait for him and his wife – once their first child was born, of course, he stressed, his hand planted lovingly on his paramour's pregnant belly – under commission. Ursa had agreed quickly before the Prince had been ushered off on the request of his father for some private meeting. The introduction between the two had been swift, but nevertheless Ursa was left with the impression that Prince Iroh was a kind, sweet man.

She had a hard time imagining him taking on some sort of role in the Fire Nation's military. Or being related to the man that walked beside her right now, for that matter.

"Yes," Prince Ozai's deep voice shook her out of her thoughts, "he wants to work his way up into commanding as a general, then lead the Fire Nation into the larger Earth Kingdom cities that still stand."

"That's pretty ambitious." Ursa commented. "I wish him well."

"Mh." The prince made no further comment. The hand that had previously been on Ursa's back slid to her side to grip at her waist. He continued leading her down the hallway and Ursa briefly wondered if they were lost in the maze of corridors that made up the palace before realizing how stupid her thought was – the prince had been raised in this magnificent place. Of course he knew where he was taking her.

"Well," she said, simply to fill up the silence between them before it grew too uncomfortable again, "if that is the case with the coronation, then I have no idea when my family and I will be returning back to the colonies, but I imagine it will be very soon."

They made a left turn down one hallway, which led them to a wide open walkway by the gardens. Ursa had caught glimpses of the open grounds several times during her short time here already, but had never gotten a close look, unfortunately, as she was always scurried onwards by her mother and told to fasten her pace. She'd never been given the time to properly explore the gardens.

However, at the Prince's leisurely pace, she was finally able to scan her eyes over the palace grounds. The place was lit up with lanterns that hung on wires over the trees, giving the flower beds and other plant-life a lively, almost golden, glow. The lanterns reflected off of the shimmering water in a pond at the center of the garden, where she caught sight of a small group of turtle-ducklings and their mother.

"Oh!" she murmured, delighted. "How lovely."

"What is?"

Ursa had been so distracted by the view she had basically forgotten the presence that had been showing her down the pathway in the first place.

She smiled, too enchanted by the gardens to remember her original discomfort with the Prince. "The gardens," she replied, not tearing her gaze away from the Fire Lilies she spotted across the pond for a second, "they are simply gorgeous. You must have loved being able to come out here and explore whenever you wanted to when you were a child."

The man next to her did not confirm her comment, but merely moved so that he was now leading her into the gardens.

Ursa did not question him and instead fell into step with him, ignoring how her dress robes would not take too kindly to the grass she now stood on.

They walked over to the edge of the pond silently, and although Ursa could feel his gaze on her, she kept her eyes focused on the small creatures in front of her instead.

His hand still rested on her waist and although she would like nothing better than to squirm underneath his hold, she resisted because she knew that it was not proper and she would never hear the end of it from her mother if she somehow found out that her esteemed daughter had insulted the Crowned Prince.

She decided, instead, to simply allow herself to enjoy the scenery that was on display before her. There were no gardens like this in the colonies. Their home rested by the beach and though Ursa did enjoy the loud, untamed sounds of the sea waves and the feel of sand in-between her toes as she walked her way home from school, she could not help but feel a certain type of sadness as she realized that she will only be able see this type of plant-life on the Fire Nation motherland.

The island she lived on did have public botanical grounds though, she supposed, but they never curated anything like the flowers in this garden and mostly hosted tropical plants, very dissimilar to the delicate plants cultivated here. Yes, she decided internally, I will certainly miss only the beauty of the gardens here.

Ursa stood still, merely taking in the view before her, admiring the way the fire in the lanterns flickered across the pond's surface, and immediately stiffened when she felt the fingertips of of Prince Ozai's hand caress her backside. Her shoulders tensed automatically. It hadn't occurred to her until now how odd it was that now that they were just standing and not walking, he hadn't removed his hand off of her body. She didn't know how to approach the subject – she had never been touched by a man before in this manner…

His hand splayed lower down her back slowly and Ursa found herself unable to control her breathing – her breath hitched slightly as she felt his body lean in closer towards hers. His body temperature was warm, almost hot; she figured this must be normal for a firebender (although she did not know this for certain, as no one in her immediate family was one, nor any of her close friends) and tried not to let the warmth of his body lull her into relaxation.

"Lady Ursa," he said lowly, making a blush creep up her neck and spread across her cheeks, staining them a bright red, "are you comfortable here?" His lips were practically brushing against her ear – she could feel his breath, warm like the rest of his body, on her skin.

Her mind flashed back to the heated gazes he had been sending her way in the royal ball room and nervously intertwined her fingers together. "Yes, of course, Your Grace. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason," he hummed, allowing his hand to trail upwards now, stroking her hair for a moment before moving it aside to give himself access to her neck.

He must have felt the heat on neck from her blush now, she knew, which only served her into becoming even more embarrassed by his actions. Is the Prince always this forward with the ladies from his court?, she wondered, as his fingers brushed lightly over her skin. His strokes were soft and light and actually felt lovely for a moment. They were becoming somewhat soothing, with the heat that radiated off them.

"Hmm," a small whimper fell through her lips accidentally when his fingers reached over and start tracing her jaw line. She was just starting to close her eyes, her eyelashes fluttering shut, when she felt him retrieve his hand away from her body and take a step back.

She turned to him, confused – not sure whether she was glad he has stopped or anxious and disappointed that he had. "Your Grace…" she began hesitantly.

"Allow me to continue escorting you to your visiting chambers, Lady Ursa," he said calmly, yet strictly, before she could get another word out. His eyes were commanding and don't leave hers for a moment until finally she nodded her consent.

"Yes, please, Your Grace. That would be most kind."

And so Ursa allowed the Crowned Prince to lead her back into the palace, his hand finding its way back on her waist, where she was ever-so-conscious of his touch, once again.