THE FIRELORD'S GARDENER CAN'T BE THIS CUTE. ───────── !
pairing; ꒰ firelord!zuko x f!earthbender!reader ꒱ .ᐟ ♡
synopsis; sent from the earth kingdom as a gesture of peace, you arrive at the fire nation with every intent to fulfill your duty of restoring the royal palace gardens. what you didn’t prepare for was the fire lord’s routine visits. you assume it’s to manage his suspicions. he assumes it’s to manage progress. neither of you are correct. and falling in love was never the plan. (wc: 2k)
cw; fluff, meet cute, soft zuko, plant bending (earth bending variant), accidental intimacy, pinning, rom/com, idiots in love talk about plants instead of feelings
What struck you first about the Fire Nation was its nearly intolerable heat.
You fanned yourself with one hand as you disembarked the ship, feeling as though the sun was following you personally. Nevermind the collective eyes from men at the docks burning curious holes into your earth-colored robes. Keeping your sights ahead, you climbed into a gilded carriage sent from the palace. You reminded yourself that this was all normal. It was the Fire Nation, after all. Of course it would be warmer.
And you also reminded yourself of your purpose.
By the strange good favor of reputation traveling farther than you ever intended, you were invited to advise on the royal grounds of the Fire Nation’s palace. The Fire Lord desired the palace gardens renewed. To welcome a more peaceful era, and as a token of trust between the Earth and Fire kingdom. And so you had bowed your head and said yes, though your stomach had churned at the thought.
You were received by palace attendants with all the expected courtesy. They carried your belongings and offered tea, all with serviceable smiles. Then escorted to your chamber prepared for you in the Guest Wing. Where you were told the Fire Lord was occupied with other affairs, and would formally welcome you the next day. And tomorrow, the master groundskeeper would be available to show you the estate and to answer any practical needs.
You should have rested. The journey had left you queasy and achy. The sea, though calm by a sailor’s standard, had never agreed with you. Yet the knowledge of the gardens beyond your window beckoned you like an old friend waiting for you to visit. That, and you assumed the fresh air would likely settle your stomach. Reasonably, it seemed like a good idea.
But if it was such a good idea, then one would certainly pinch their chin and cock their head sideways if they caught you dodging attendants and guards.
On your own secret mission, you managed to find the royal gardens without being noticed (at least that’s what you thought). You walked slowly, fingertips brushing against leaves and petals. Knees bending now and then so you could press a hand to the earth in passing. And everywhere you found the same thing: growth with very little joy.
You made your way to the lower terrace, tucked just far enough from the main walkways where there was little chance of being spotted by wandering eyes. You knelt beside a patch of dried and barely growing jasmine. It had been planted with good intentions, but not much else. The soil beneath it had been packed too tightly for the roots to breathe or absorb any nutrients.
You placed your hands gently against the ground and exhaled, fingers curled slightly.
You loosened the soil in careful ripples, easing tension and guiding moisture upward in soft threads. The roots shifted almost immediately, and a small green shoot pressed its way upward where there had been nothing before.
Your face glowed, eyes glistening at the sight. “Why, hello there little friend. So glad you could finally join us.”
“Is this how you always work?”
The voice behind you was calm and low. And seemed so close, you felt the heat of their body seep deeper than the sunlight pressing against your back. Your hands jerked from the soil. And your breath caught sharp in your chest as you turned quickly on your knees.
The Fire Lord stood only a few paces away. He wore robes of deep red and black bordered in gold, formal enough that there could be no mistaking who he was. Dark hair framed a face you knew at once from portraits and formal ink renderings. His scar, vivid and unmistakable across his handsome face, drew the eye first. Before you could be accused of rudely staring, you pitched your sight back to the gravel beneath his feet.
Still on your knees, you gathered your hands in front of you in a bow that had your forehead touch the gravel. “Fire Lord, please forgive me. I meant no disrespect for coming here without a proper escort.”
“I should be the one apologizing,” he said, raising a hand almost in shock by the impact of your forehead meeting the ground. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
You managed to unclench your eyes. That was not the reply or tone you had expected. Carefully, you looked up. Sure enough, his features matched his words as a look of concern—and justifiable confusion—creased the skin between his brows.
“Thank you for your considerate words,” you swallowed, and swiped away the small rocks practically embedded into your skin, “but I was more surprised than anything else.”
That was an utter lie. But you were in no place to make the Fire Lord feel guilty for sneaking into his personal gardens.
After a short pause, his gaze shifted past you, toward the jasmine. “They look healthier today.” A forlong look seemed to cross the otherwise placidness of his face. As though the thought had carried him somewhere else in time. “I’m hoping to have some tea once they’re ready.”
You turned, following his attention, and blinked when a small cluster of blossoms had already begun to grow.
“Oh, of course,” you said, a little brighter. “The soil is very good here. The hint of volcanic minerals will surely bring out the most of the floral notes for you to enjoy, my Lord. Well, expect it’s only—” you pinched your lips shut. At least you knew it was a very bad idea to criticize the soil management within your first conversation with the Fire Lord.
“Only what?” he asked, definitely not allowing you to play it off as useless rambling.
“...only that it seems somewhat over-managed, if that makes any sense at all. Not that it wouldn’t make sense to you, my Lord. I’m certain it would, if I explained. Although, I’m not trying to imply to know what you don’t know—” you cleared your throat to regain some semblance of composure, “with permission to speak plainly, it’s as if everything here has been forced to survive, rather than allowed to comfortably bloom on its own.”
When his lips remained a thin line for longer than your heart could take, you had every sense to leave on a ship by sunset. Thankfully, you were saved by a curve that ghosted one corner of his mouth.
“That sounds like the palace in general.” He said before continuing. “I was informed by the chamberlain that you had arrived. I meant to welcome you properly tomorrow, but I caught something moving in the gardens outside the window of my private study.” He stole another glance at the blossoming buds. “I was curious.”
You fiddled with your dirt speckled finger tips. “I’m sorry to have distracted you from your work.”
“It was a welcomed distraction," he said, though his eyes never left the jasmine bed.
The conversation should have ended there. Where you would finally stop playing in the dirt like a worm, stand to pat your sleeves and knees clean, then politely bid the Fire Lord a pleasant day. Instead, voices rustled the nearby foliage.
“...she was meant to stay in the guest wing!”
“...just hurry and find her before anyone else does.”
You froze. Knowing very well who those voices were looking for.
“I have this strange feeling,” you whispered sheepishly, “they might be looking for me, my Lord.”
The Fire lord glanced toward the path where eminent footsteps approached, then squarely back down at you. A brief assessment of your predicament held two very important truths; the first being you were not supposed to be here and, two, he was most certainly not supposed to be the one to have found you first. And just to add in a third, the attendants currently approaching were absolutely in no way supposed to find those two things happening at the same time.
“Don’t move,” he instructed.
You complied, mostly because you weren’t sure where you could go even if you tried to escape at this point. He stepped closer, and you blinked up at him as his outer robe shifted, and a wall of dark fabric draped over you. Shrouded within his robes, the tips of his fingers graced your shoulder, gently guiding you closer to his side. You stared at the fabric in front of you, and where the pattern shifted as two figures appeared at the end of the path.
“Fire Lord Zuko!” One voice pitched in utter surprise. “We–ah–didn’t realize you were in the gardens,” the attendant continued, treading carefully on their words. “We’re terribly sorry to disturb you.”
“There’s no disturbance,” he said, not moving an inch. “I was just getting some fresh air.”
“And we were only making sure everything was….in order!” The other attendant couldn’t help but blurt out.
An awkward pause. And you swore the other attendant's elbow had twitched to nudge the other in the gut.
“Is there something missing?” Zuko asked.
“No, no, not at all. My Lord,” the more composed of the two answered. “Nothing of importance.”
“That's a relief,” the Fire Lord breathed, idly nodding to his surroundings. “If it’s nothing important, then I imagine it won’t cause any trouble.”
The attendant could barely control the nervous squeak in his voice. “No trouble at all, my Lord. There’s certainly nothing about what we’re looking for that should trouble you.”
You felt a slight tremble in his body. Something dangerously close to a chuckle. But he buried it away, his posture settling back into practiced composure.
“E-Excuse us, my Lord. We’ll continue the search elsewhere,” the second attendant scrambled to add.
You pressed your lips firmly together. Scolding yourself for finding any of this amusing as well. Because if you had made a sound, you were fairly certain the entire situation would fall apart immediately. Luckily, you managed to steel your nerves long enough for them to bow and retreat down the path with haste.
“You can come out now,” he said after a moment of quiet settled over the garden.
You shifted, the world widening again around you as you stepped back into view. You did not look at him immediately, still trying very hard not to smile.
“You should return to the guest wing,” he said, seeming to also be taming his lips from smiling at present. “And if you’re going to lie where you’ve been, you should make sure to be more convincing than those two.”
“You’re right, I should." You hummed in agreement. “Before I become even more trouble.”
You turned to leave, then paused before turning over a shoulder. “Thank you for that,” you added softly.
He didn’t reply with any words. Allowing only a small smile to grace that hard line that refused to bend. It faded just as quickly as it came. And he reserved his attention toward the jasmine bed again.
You made your way back up the path, mindful of where your feet fell. Though not quite mindful enough to resist looking over your shoulder once more.
He was still there. Standing exactly where you had left him.
As though he had nowhere else in the world to be.
