Zuko is utterly exhausted. On top of the Jian Lo corn debacle, the groundwater pollution in Fire Fountain City, and the United Front for Paper Dyers protest rally, today also happens to be Ursa's fifth birthday.

Thankfully, she's already past the dragon-themed parties phase, so at least there wouldn't have to be a repeat of last year's spice-saturated, firecracker-festooned nightmare. Zuko already has all the third degree burn scars he can deal with, thank you very much. But a birthday is still a birthday, and when it's only your fifth (and the third you can even minimally recall), a big deal not being made out of it is, regrettably, not at all likely.

"I'll make sure not to remember your thirty-first birthday if it makes you feel better," Mai assures him as he organizes his impressive stack of paperwork with one hand while struggling with his hairband with the other. "I'll also help you with your hair," she adds, "if you beg."

"I'm not going to beg," he says irritably. "I can do my own Agni-damned hair. And I stand by my decision to dismiss all those unnecessary handmaidens. A ruler is responsible for presenting an example of self-sufficiency to their people."

"Which is why we have four cooks, naturally."

"A ruler is also responsible for generating employment opportunities," he mutters.

"You're very wise, Zuko." Mai kisses his neck and casually unravels his half-done topknot. "As accentuated by your perpetually sloppy hairdo."

Before he can come up with a sufficiently witty response (or, more likely, a sufficiently sullen one), Mai slices Zuko's hairband in four pieces and throws them on top of his paper stack.

"You should really stop messing around and get ready," she reasonably advises. "Our guests are about to arrive."

.

When you live in a castle that has its own apple orchard, finding a place to host a kid's birthday party is, obviously, not an issue. Mai and Zuko, with the help of the few servants they did keep, set up several tables, benches, pillows, and an inflatable pool in the main garden, which is easily big enough to hold their close family, Ursa's friends, and a horde of Mai's distant relatives, whom there was no possible way not to invite without incurring much political retribution and guilt tripping.

The Royal Palace's four cooks have been working very hard on a birthday banquet fit for a princess, which naturally means a whole bunch of whipped cream and corn syrup, and inevitably resulted in an overexcited five-year-old with a sugar high.

"Dad, Zhuyin's still asleep," she informs Zuko with all the righteous indignation of a girl who's been personally and maliciously wronged. "I blew in his ear and I put all the china doll hats on his face and he's still sleeping."

"Let him sleep, Ursa," Zuko tells her. "He's smaller than you and he needs more rest. Don't worry, he's just as excited as you are. He'll wake up soon enough."

"Soon enough isn't soon enough," she states sensibly and storms off.

While pouting is entirely beneath her, Ursa has no qualms about sulking around in a conspicuous manner. There are definitely some things Zuko would rather his children didn't learn from him, but he has to admit, the kid's got some talent. She might even be able to out-brood Zuko himself.

However, as had been foretold, Zhuyin wakes up within the hour and joins Ursa in restless anticipation of the Guests, harbingers of Food and Drink and More Presents. Once united, they immediately apply themselves to sulking conspicuously together.

.

Azula, surprisingly enough, is the first one to arrive. She comes in through the front gate carrying a large backpack and wearing her uniform in the muted green of the Earth Kingdom firefighting unit. As soon as Ursa spots her, she puts her sugar-fueled adrenaline to good use and starts running.

"Aunty Azula!" she squeals and nearly tackles her to the ground.

"Yes, yes, hello," Azula replies stiffly as she tries to regain her balance and remove her backpack. "I come bearing gifts."

She pulls a stack of colorfully wrapped boxes out of the pack. Ursa's eyes immediately light up, and for a moment it almost seems like Azula's going to throw them and shout 'Fetch!' while making a hasty retreat, but she simply holds them out and begrudgingly tolerates a midsection hug and a joyful squeak. She even pats Ursa awkwardly on the head.

Zuko hides his grin with a fist. His little sister has come a long way. Soon she might even reach the much-vaunted landmark of basic human emotional functionality.

Ursa lets go of Azula's torso so she can paw excitedly at her numerous boxes.

"That's a lot of stuff!" she declares approvingly. "Mom and dad didn't get me this much stuff. You're way better at this than they are."

Azula looks pleased. Being told she's better than Zuko at something is probably up there with not being hugged by little kids with sticky hands on her list of things she doesn't dislike. "You're welcome," she tells Ursa. "Now go away."

Ursa scampers off to brag about her presents to her little brother, tragically unaware that she's going to have to share them with him anyway. He'd most likely break her favorite toy, too.

Zuko approaches his own little sister, bearing, luckily, nothing that can be broken. Well, except for his bones, of course. But he's pretty sure that Azula and he are past the stage of their lives where they're trying very hard to kill each other.

"Azula," he greets her.

She inclines her head with the greatest amount of disdain a gesture of respect can convey. She truly has a gift. "Fire Lord Zuzu," she says.

"Thank you so much for raising the bar on birthday presents," Zuko tells her. "You have no idea how hard it is to shop for princesses."

"You're probably right. I was always much too sensible to expend any energy on your birthday, after all." She smirks. "Ty Lee handled all the shopping this year as well. You're welcome."

"Wonderful."

They go inside to find a trail of torn wrapping paper leading up to two bright-eyed children in a pile of knickknacks.

"That really is a lot of gifts," Zuko comments.

"Yes. Ty Lee is a rather enthusiastic shopper."

"So what did she buy?"

"Well, there's the clockwork cuttle-penguin, the felt spider-moth that looks rather real, the triple-layer dress, a pair of pink cloth dancing shoes, and a whole bunch of other nonsense I forgot about. And I," she adds with a smirk, "got the most beautiful and intricate traditional Earth Kingdom doll for Zhuyin, and a very well-balanced dagger for Ursa. I'm sure even Mai would approve. It even has an inspirational inscription on it."

"Very clever, Azula," Zuko says.

"Thank you. I put a lot of thought into it."

"I'm sure. So do you want your old bedroom while you're here?"

"Why, of course! How I've missed all the happy memories. Thank you, Zuzu, for being such a considerate and understanding older brother."

Zuko repeats a plea for patience in his head, and doesn't rise to the bait. "Yeah, I figured," he says. "You can pick any of the bedrooms, they all have fresh sheets. Just drop your pack there and you can lock the door if you want. Do you have anything to change into?"

"I'm so sorry, Zuko, I'm afraid I didn't bring anything sufficiently frilly with me, what with all those birthday presents, provisions, and my spare boots. How silly of me."

You don't really want to kill your sister. You don't really want to kill your sister. You don't really want to kill your sister. "Right," Zuko manages to squeeze out through clenched jaws.

"Oh, I have an idea! Why don't you ask Mai to lend me one of her gowns? I'm sure she'd be happy to oblige."

He sighs. He's trying, he really is. He deserves a medal for his perseverance in the face of impossible siblings and unceasing aggravation, if you ask him. "Just drop off your stuff and come help me set things up outside," he tells her, and goes out to the garden where Mai is already sitting elegantly in anticipation of watching him shuffle flowers around.