Wounded Fairytale Indeed...

It always felt like the palace adorned its celebration robes whenever the Gaang was visiting.

The awfully boring meetings and the paperwork would suddenly become much more bearable with Sokka cracking another joke every ten minutes (which, frankly, did not age as well as he himself did) and Aang addressing the Fire Lord as Hotman in front of all the high-ranking officials. You had long given up trying to keep up your professional attitude and would occasionally find yourself laughing at your husband as he facepalmed himself for the unknownth time.

Once the crowns and the robes were set aside for the day, they would move to the garden, sitting under the moonlight, enjoying the peace and quiet that was scarce to come by. You would occasionally brew some tea, having learned the sacred art from Iroh during your extended stays in Ba Sing Se when Zuko had diplomatic meetings to attend to.

It felt like a family reunion.

However, it also meant that you didn’t get much alone time with your husband.

Your relationship with Zuko had never been particularly restrained, which didn’t really fade after the honeymoon phase, much to everyone’s dismay. After a while, whenever they had to stay somewhere, the rest of the Gaang started playing rock-paper-scissors to decide the unlucky person that would get the room next door.

Apparently, the Fire Lord and Lady had “the self-control of a lop-eared rabbit”, as Sokka once put it.

Not getting to spend enough time only made the situation worse, as Zuko tended to get more and more touchy the more he missed you. Still, you two had got better over the years.

Or so you thought. Before somehow ending up with the Fire Lord’s face between your thighs. In the fucking Throne Room.

When he asked you to stay once the meetings were over for the day, your initial expectation was to be buried under a ton of documents. However, dismissing the guards and the servants wasn’t really a part of the boring, bureaucracy routine. As soon as the last guard left the Throne Room, you felt Zuko’s strong arms hugging you from behind.

He left small kisses under your ear, gathering your hair on your right shoulder. A small chuckle left your lips. “Well, someone’s been missing me.” You let your muscles relax as Zuko’s lips moved on to your neck, his warm breath making you shiver.

“It’s just… difficult.” He slowly raised his head on a level with your ear. “You are there, by my side, the whole day, but I cannot touch you. I cannot kiss you.”

“You are the Fire Lord,” you murmured, a hint of amusement slipping into your voice. “You are supposed to have at least a little self-control.”

With a quick movement, Zuko turned you in his arms. He was looking down at you, a playful glint in his amber eyes. “I think I have earned a moment of poor judgement.” Leaning in, he let his lips brush against yours, pressing your body against his. You gasped. “I have been keeping my hands to myself, but right now, I just want to rip off your clothes.”

His voice was a mere whisper now, the same tone he used when he would whisper dirty words in your ear.

You knew he was doing it on purpose, years of practice had shown him that if there was anything on this world that could turn you on almost instantly, it was that particular tone of voice.

Zuko’s thumb brushed over your lower lip as you spoke, your chest rising against his with every breath. “You are not actually considering it, are you?”

“Weren’t you the one who wanted to ride me in the Throne Room?”

“Not when everyone’s here!”

You had to admit, alone the idea was enough to make you rub your thighs together. You had wanted to ride Zuko here, in the Throne Room, for a very long time but his lordship had insisted on waiting for the perfect opportunity. Which, apparently, was the only time when anyone could walk in on you.

Zuko placed a small kiss on your lips. “No one comes in here unless I allow it.” The softer his voice became, the easier it was to ignore the voice of reason. “Let me show you how much I have missed you, my Lady.”

Another moan escaped your lips, your hand tangled in Zuko’s hair. As if he wanted to memorise every moment, his eyes weren’t leaving yours, even for a second. “Someone’s going to hear me,” your voice came out more like a whimper. Zuko’s lips closed around your clit, sucking it gently, causing you to toss your head back, hand over your mouth.

Zuko’s mouth was replaced by his thumb, drawing circles, as he raised his head and pushed your hand away. “Don’t,” his deep voice was enough to tell you how hard he probably was under his robes. “I want to hear you. When you come.”

You bit your lower lip, still trying to be silent. “It won’t take long if you keep going like this.”

The edge of Zuko’s lips curled upwards. “I barely touch you and you’re already—” His movements slowed down as he got ready to replace his thumb with his tongue, again. “You get like this so quickly...”

“Let’s see how long his lordship lasts when I ride—” You couldn’t even finish your words as Zuko’s tongue began doing wonders on your body, quickly picking up the pace. The soft cry leaving your lips was loud enough for the servants to hear outside the Throne Room.

The orgasm hit you faster than you expected, Zuko had to use his arms to keep you from closing your legs as your body began to shake. Unable to move your legs, you arched your back, eyes closed. Sometimes, you wondered, if Zuko could send you to a whole other dimension. Just with his tongue.

As the feeling slowly faded, another one quickly began to build up. You opened your eyes, alarmed, and you began to hit his arm, trying to get Zuko to stop toying with your clit. “Zuko, you need to stop,” your voice was hoarse from all the crying out before. When he didn’t understand the warning, you tried pushing him away as a last resort, which finally made him stop.

Letting out the breath you were holding, you allowed your upper body to fall down onto the cushion.

“What was that about?” Zuko asked, wiping away the saliva - or the rest of your bliss, you couldn’t tell - from his mouth.

“I would have come all over you if you hadn’t stopped,” you spoke, still panting. The considering look on Zuko’s face made you widen your eyes. “You don’t want it on your robes, lover boy, trust me.”

He seemed to remember that he was indeed in his royal robes. “That would have been a mess.” He climbed on top of you. “Just like you are now.”

You spoke in between kisses. “I will show you… who is the mess…”

Zuko’s lips captured yours hungrily. You could taste yourself on his tongue as he tilted your head, deepening the kiss. His hands were wandering over your curves, though the fabric of the robes didn’t allow him to properly touch you. You let out a whine, alone the thought of how his strong hands would felt against your skin was enough to fill you with desire once again. The clouds around your head, left-over from the intense orgasm, began to disappear.

“Hm?” Zuko asked, moving his lips to your neck.

“I prefer doing this naked,” you whispered, wrapping your legs around his waist. You were pretty sure that your crown was already lying somewhere on the floor. “Feeling your skin against mine—”

Without breaking the kiss, Zuko shifted his weight, one arm tightening around your back as he pushed himself upright. Your legs stayed wrapped around his waist, your body lifting with his as he settled back, pulling you into his lap. The moment you adjusted your position, straddling him, you finally felt his hardness against your core.

Moving your hand between your bodies and under Zuko’s robes, you began rubbing his erection through the fabric of his pants. Zuko let out a deep breath, his grip on your waist tightening. “The robes are fucking annoying,” he spoke, his eyes moving to your chest. You only got the glimpse of the naughty spark in his amber eyes, already darkened with lust, as he pulled down your dress from its arms. Since it had a deep cut already, it didn’t take much of an effort to free your breasts from the cloth.

You gasped at the sudden cool air licking the tender skin. “You are ruining my dress!”

“Don’t care,” Zuko muttered as he took your right nipple in his mouth, twirling his tongue around it, and his fingers captured the other one. You bit back, unsuccessfully, you were desperately tugging at the waistband of his pants. Chuckling against your breasts, Zuko lifted his hips slightly off the ground - enough for you to finally free your favourite toy.

His breath hitched as you wrapped your right hand around his cock, moving it with a painfully slow pace, and the left one cupped his balls. “Fuck,” he whispered, his voice dropping. You bit your lower lip. You were soaking wet, completely ruining the robes - though you couldn’t tell whether they belonged to Zuko or to you.

“Are you planning on teasing me?” Zuko asked, his mouth still against your nipple, upon realising that you weren’t changing the pace.

“The idea is quite tempting,” you spoke as you slowly pulled your hands away. Zuko to let out an impatient groan, raising his head from your chest. You were clumsily moving the robes away that separated your bodies. “But patience isn’t something I have today.”

Both of you let out a long moan as you let yourself slide down onto his cock. It always took a moment for you to get used to his size at the beginning, so you had to remind yourself not to get too carried away by lust.

Zuko captured your lips as you began to roll your hips against his, resting one of your hands on his upper leg, the other one wrapped around his neck. His tongue claimed your mouth as his, kissing you as if he wanted to capture your next breath. You picked up the pace, rocking your hips faster, your breasts bouncing with each movement.

“You feel so fucking good,” Zuko whispered against your lips, his hands holding you firmly from your waist. Alone his tone was enough to tell you that this wasn’t going to be a long round. “You are a fucking goddess.” Leaning into your ear, his warm breath licked the skin. “And you fuck me like an animal.”

The sound slipped out before you could stop it - loud enough for people to hear, though at that moment, you didn’t really care. You took Zuko’s hand, placing it on your breast as you arched your back, leaning, you wanted to take him even deeper. Zuko began toying with your nipple, his other hand helping you as you fastened the movement of your hips once again.

Sweat began to form on your forehead.

“Zuko,” you spoke his name more like a whimper, “I think I am gonna cum again—”

“I can hear it,” he inhaled sharply, trying to hold himself back. He, too, was dangerously close. “Do you want me to take over?”

You nodded hastily. “Please,” Zuko swiftly put you on your back, pushing your knees against your chest. A soft cry broke through your lips as Zuko started thrusting deep into you, one hand pinning both yours above your head.

“I will fuck this orgasm out of you,” his breath warm against your skin, his hips dipping into yours, “until you beg me to stop.”

“Yes,” you were panting, trying to keep your voice down as best as you could. “Zuko— you are— Oh, oh my—”

“Say my name.”

“Zuko!”

Your second orgasm took over your body like nothing you had known. Zuko had to capture your lips so that you could moan into his mouth, which were becoming dangerously loud. Your body shaking violently, Zuko pinned you in your place, underneath him, and fucked you through one of the strongest orgasms of your life until you were nothing but a sweaty mess.

It was after that Zuko allowed himself to chase his own release. The movement of his hips became more sloppy, losing his rhythm as he, too, hit the edge. Burying his head to your neck, he kept whispering your name while he came, his seed filling you, though the consequences weren’t one of your priorities at that moment.

Once Zuko let his body fall onto yours, his grip on your arms loosened, allowing you to wrap them around his body. “Are you still on this planet?” You whispered in his ear. You began to run the fingers of your right hand through his messy hair.

“I guess,” Zuko’s voice came out muffled. Slowly, he rolled onto his back, freeing you from his weight - well, his muscles didn’t necessarily weigh little. “Spirits, I absolutely needed this.”

You chuckled as you propped yourself on one arm. “I kind of figured out that much, my Lord.”

Zuko raised an eyebrow while he reached for your left breast with his hand, cupping it. His thumb began to draw circles on your nipple. You let out a quivering sigh. “What was that?” His voice was teasing. “Do you need another—”

Both of you froze as the curtains shielding the entrance of the Throne Room were pushed open.

“C’mon, your lord and ladyship, are you going to drown yourself in those documents all—”

Sokka’s jaw dropped open the moment his blue eyes found the two of you in the dimly lit room.

Zuko was lying on the ground, his bun half-undone, pants around his ankles. You had long lost your crown piece and your dress was half pulled down, breasts exposed with the left one in Zuko’s hand.

Oh, fuck, this was not supposed to happen!

You quickly wrapped your arms over your chest in an attempt to cover your breasts as Zuko pulled his hand away, pushing himself to sitting. His cheeks were so red it was impossible to tell it apart from his robes. “Oh, Sokka, who let you in here?”

“I let myself in,” Sokka said, pinching the bridge of his nose, “but apparently into the bedroom of the Fire Lord! What is wrong with you guys?!”

Before you could say anything, Sokka stormed out. Though you could still hear him talking to Aang right outside.

“So, do they need any help?” Aang asked with a curious expression on his face.

Sokka quickly shook his head. “No, no, no - they were already done!” Aang sent him a confused look, not understanding reason behind the sarcasm in his words. “They have been busy with other activities, Aang.”

The Avatar’s eyes widened. “You can’t be serious - did they really go for it in the Throne Room?”

“They are out of their minds!” Sokka threw his hands in the air. “Oh, and you need to light some incense or something - it smells like sex in there!”

Zuko facepalmed himself after Sokka left you two alone. “This is what you get when you ride me in the Throne Room.”

Surely, your husband -your very hot, very much married husband-, currently surrounded by noblewomen (if they had anything noble in them, seeing how shamelessly they seemed to want to earn the Fire Lord’s favour) might have influenced it.

It was fine, at first.

As Fire Lady, it wasn’t precisely a relaxed celebration. Nothing ever really is. So, even if the event was smaller than others hosted in the halls of the palace, your role still required small talk and a display of regal attitude towards all guests. So did Zuko’s; you had learned this a long time ago.

However, after a long talk with a particularly chatty Earth Kingdom ambassador, you had realized you hadn’t seen your husband in a while. So what a surprise it was to look for him and find him positively surrounded by people who, clearly, weren’t his wife.

This had happened before. Of course it had.

One couldn’t expect to marry someone who looked…like that, and expect him not to draw attention. Someone in such relevant position. Someone who had (even if earned through the years) a poised presence that could catch the eye even without relying on such good looks and formidable title. It would be foolish to do so.

But seeing him so…comfortable at it? Not seeing him even flinch as one of the women (the daughter of one of the older council members, if you recall correctly) gets closer to mumble something to him, while he has the audacity to smile while he replies? Unheard of. Disgraceful. Absolutely maddening.

And the reason you’re overheating with jealousy, clearly.

It’d be less awful if he didn’t look so pleased with engaging in the conversation, you think to yourself, turning towards one of the closest refreshment tables to pick one glass of whatever was being served. Something just to put your hands to use, to maintain the decorum expected of the Fire Lady instead of the dramatic behaviour of a possessive wife.

How you wished to at least know what those women were saying to have him so content…

The evening had been delightful. That much was clear for Zuko. Shades of gold and red decorating every space of the room, from the fresh flower arrangement to the silk banners on the walls, to the display of the tables and carefully curated menu. A festivity more than worthy of being hosted by the palace.

After all, it had been carefully overseen by his wife, so there wasn’t any other way for it to be.

“Fire Lord Zuko.” Another noble woman called for his attention, as had been common in the last few minutes, even while he had made sure to dismiss them swiftly to finally have a moment to look for his beloved. “The evening has been wonderful. The palace is brighter than ever tonight… one might wonder if it’s your presence that makes it so radiant.”

…a moment he believes gets further away from his grasp, with every new conversation.

Still, he takes a moment to think of the words, mentally considering the best answer for someone of his position. Even years into the title, he still sometimes has to pause to consider the best course of action, even for something as small as chatter in the middle of a diplomatic reception.

Which is why, after a few seconds, and in the voice of a man who now knows how to command a room, but apparently, not catch second intentions, he utters:

“I haven’t made any changes to the lighting.” He clarifies as if it were needed. Then, feeling like he should add something more, he continues. “But it was my wife who organised the decorations. She has a good eye for that.”

The noblewoman’s smile doesn’t falter but almost threatens to do so, until she remembers who she’s talking to.

“That’s…wonderful, Your Majesty.” She ends up replying, laughing softly as if to ease the one-sided tension. “But I imagine it must be difficult to balance such responsibilities. Do you ever find time to enjoy evenings like this by yourself?”

“There’s usually work to finish all the time.”

This time, he doesn’t add more to his words, almost pleased with himself on his diplomatic ways.

“As it’d be expected of such a demanding position.” The woman continues either way, set on gaining the favour of the Fire Lord in at least some way. She had seen women speak to him half the night without any of them succeeding, so either they had been terrible at it, or this man was the most challenging one in the entire Fire Nation. “I’m sure many would gladly assist you, if you ever required… lighter company.”

“That wouldn’t be necessary. The council handles most of the matters, and my wife manages the rest.”

The woman almost sighs, but decides to try one last direct approach.

“Even so, if you ever find yourself looking for another kind of presence…I’d be honoured to spend more time in your company, Your Majesty. Perhaps in a less crowded space.” She continues, using her fan as if to highlight the expression of her face or the subtle pigment adorning her lips.

“Ah, yes.” He ends up replying, with such a casual tone that almost makes the woman hopeful that her tactics seem to have been successful…until he opens his mouth again. “If you’re looking for a position, you could talk to the members of the council.”

…

“Of course, Your Majesty. Thank you.”

“My Lady, are you feeling unwell?” Your thoughts are interrupted by your personal attendant, who has discreetly gotten closer to you after sensing your internal turmoil even from the other side of the room.

“Not at all.” You compose yourself quickly, taking your eyes off the woman speaking to your husband, stopping your assumptions for a few seconds. “Everything is perfect.”

“Would you want to step outside for a moment?”

“That would be lovely, yes.” You agree quickly, clearly preferring to gaze at the sky to clear your mind. At least the sky didn’t have women on their left and right looking for the smallest opportunity to make a man pay attention to them despite being publicly married.

Even so, as the cold air of the night hits your face as you step into the closest balcony, your thoughts don’t ease even for a moment. After all, the image of someone else getting that close to the man you love (and the fact that it has become a recurring occurrence) isn’t something easy to shake off.

‘No, he isn’t like that. But he usually stays close to me in these events, why didn’t he today? But he’s Fire Lord, it wouldn’t be good if I stick to him all the time; he has to talk to people. But he seemed so entertained while talking to them, what if..?’

“You left.”

A voice can be heard behind you. An unmistakably familiar, and very annoying for the thoughts you were having kind of voice.

And surely, a few seconds later, the man himself appears next to you. Fire Lord Zuko, in full formal attire, hair half up in a bun you fixed yourself before the event, and expression unexpectedly soft for anyone else that wasn’t you.

And apparently, the man who had a radar on noticing the immediate moment you abandoned the main hall.

“…yeah.” You end up simply nodding, almost embarrassed of the thoughts you were having mere seconds ago. “It was, uhm, quite…crowded inside.” You add as excuse.

“Did something happen?” He asks, sensing it might not be the full truth. Which might have made you cave in to him if it wasn’t for the expression he made as he spoke, the same one he did minutes ago with another woman. The memory is enough to make the previous jealousy rise again.

“Nothing at all. You can come back inside if you want. I wouldn’t want to take much of your time when you have plenty of company waiting for you.”

That makes him pause.

If these years of marriage have taught him anything at all, that tone of hers didn’t exactly want him to come back inside. And he had probably made a mistake he should apologise for. So, with the subtlety of a glass being smashed into the pavement, he simply asks:

“What do you mean?”

Which makes her sigh as she finally looks at him.

“I don’t know, Zuko. Maybe I don’t like seeing you surrounded by women who seem to be waiting at the inevitable moment I make a mistake so they can get closer to you.” A hint of sarcasm can be heard in your tone, more exhaustion than real anger toward him.

His expression inevitably shifts at your words. After years of knowing him, you can almost read them like an open book. First confusion, then consideration of them, a mix of something quieter as he seems to realise the meaning of what you just said.

“What kind of mistake-?” Realisation hits his features as his thoughts form fully. “Oh.”

“…'oh'?” You repeat, almost offended.

“That’s what this was about.” He ends up muttering, almost to himself. “You believe I’ve been talking to other women because I’ve wanted to?”

“You seemed quite content.”

“I wasn’t- “He stops himself like he knows his words will need to be more exact than that. “I’ve been trying to end those conversations as soon as possible to come look for you. But more of them kept appearing before I could. And when I was alone, you left the hall.” He speaks, tone even but no less firm, like it always has been when it comes to reassure you, in his own way.

Still, as you don’t seem fully convinced, he continues.

“They were speaking to me. I answered.” He clears his throat. “That was all.”

You stop to look at him for a second, his tone and words making you almost ashamed of the fact that you thought he could be entertaining other kind of thought. But even so, stubborn as usual, all you can manage is:

“Didn’t look like that to me.” Which would’ve been more intimidating if it wasn’t for the faint flush of embarrassment on your face.

“Sorry, I just thought you’d be…glad. Of me following your advice.”

“…what advice?”

“What you said to me last week.” He recalls, tone sincere. “That I should speak to dignitaries myself instead of glueing myself to you.”

…ah, that advice.

“I mean- yeah, I did say that. But referring to- I don’t know! Ministers, ambassadors, representatives, not other women.” You continue despite the growing mortification on your face.

“Were you jealous?”

“…no.” You mutter despite how utterly unconvincing your tone is given the situation.

But instead of mocking you or teasing you into it, he glances for a second towards the hall he left minutes ago. The distant sound of chatter and probably political nonsense you both technically should come back to. Then takes your hand in his, with the same gentle touch he always has with you, like the way he touches you matters more than anything his title might ask of him.

“Would you rather we leave early?”

“What?”

“Leave already. We were noticed enough; I think it’s normal for me to want time with my wife instead of nobles and ambassadors.” He repeats, then adds. “And for what’s worth, I’d have rather spent all evening with you instead of talking to other people about lighting.”

That finally makes you squeeze his hand as a gesture of relief, moving closer into him until your forehead rests against his shoulder, feeling the warmth he radiates even in the middle of the night chill.

“…I should’ve figured that myself. Sorry that I didn’t.”

“It’s fine. If something is wrong, I want you to tell me.”

“Alright.” You end muttering, surrounded by his words. As the calm settles over your thoughts and posture, you move even closer, allowing yourself to press a soft kiss to his lips that he quickly answers, his free hand moving to settle over your waist with the familiarity of someone who had been waiting for that precise moment all night. “We’re leaving, then?” You whisper against his lips.

“To wherever you want to, my love.”

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

Bonus scene:

Later, you both walk hand in hand towards your shared chambers. The lights of this side of the palace are dimmer, more private even as the palace guards gaze at you slightly. Almost curious about what the Fire Lord and Fire Lady are doing there despite how the event is still ongoing.

And then, almost as an afterthought, you finally recall some of his earlier words.

“What did you say before?” You gaze slightly towards him as he walks next to you. “That someone was talking to you about…lighting?”

“Yeah, something about how the evening was…brighter, I think she said.”

“Brighter how?”

“With me.” The reply was casual, but his faintly puzzled tone showed his previous confusion even now. “I don’t even handle those aspects of the palace, but I figured she was complimenting your decorations.”

That makes you pause, as you process his words, a smile forming immediately.

“Did she… say something else?”

“That she wished to assist me with company, something about lighter presence. So, I advised her to ask the council for a position.”

That’s what finally makes you laugh freely, supporting yourself lightly onto him for balance.

“Zuko, that woman was trying to get into your bed, not getting a council position.”

That makes him pause, making him furrow his brow, until he continues, voice fully honest like he can’t even fathom such a possibility.

“Why would she? You’re my wife, you’re the only one I share my bed with. You’re the only one I want.”

“Smooth, Fire Lord, very smooth.”