The horizon is all we have

You don’t remember when you slept, but you woke up and were greeted by the weight of many blankets. 

Unbeknownst to you, the overwhelming emotions and exhaustion from your ailment caught up to you. Your body gave out in the small time after Zuko had confessed and given you his real answer. And if you could safely assume, he was also the culprit to your comfort in your bed.

You quickly get ready and leave your room, your nerves rushing through your entire body. Could you really act normal after this? You weren’t sure but there was at least one thing you knew; you wanted to see him.

It wasn’t that you didn’t believe it, but truthfully you couldn’t. You like the Firelord, and he likes you back. In your head, you were kicking and screaming. But in reality, your body was cold. It wasn’t that you did not expect this anxiety, but you were not prepared for it either. 

What would it actually mean to be the wife of the Firelord? 

You were suddenly tormented with the logistics and expectations of now being in a relationship with Zuko. All your questions felt endless, and you even questioned whether you should torment Zuko with these asks. You were shocked that your body still made its way to the kitchen albeit the weight of your thoughts. 

Entering the kitchen did nothing to waive your worries either. 

Lady Rin and Lady Kira immediately looped their arms into each one of yours. The Palace rumors move as fast as a torrent. You barely get to say goodmorning to the cooks and the rest of the staff as you’re forced into sitting at one of the tables. 

Multiple Ladies gather, their elbows etched to the table, face giddily in the dent of their lifted fists. “So…” Rin begins, her voice drenched in curiosity. They all inched a little closer after her start. 

You rolled your eyes, “if you all must know, I do not plan to leave with Lord Layro.” 

“Sai, we are not referring to Lord Layro at all,” Kira hums, her hold on your arm tightening. “We’re talking about the Firelord.” 

Before you could try to swat them off the idea, your face flushed up. Your feelings caught you up, and suddenly, you could not speak. They ensue in a choir of ‘ooo’ as you quickly suck your teeth. “Don’t be scuttlebutts– clearly the Firelord is not seeking courtship at this time.” 

Kira quickly pulled your arm, “he was quite rattled seeing Lord Layro take your attention last night.” The Ladies quickly giggled, earning a few loud chuckles from the chefs. They jokingly slapped their spatulas against the hot metal of the cooker. 

You look at her, one eyebrow raised in suspicion, “is that right?” 

“He refused a tea refill if it was not from you,” Kira hummed. 

Zuko had always been like that. Quickly taking a deep liking to your tea, he had always then preferred for you to prepare and serve his tea. It’s out of routine more than it is preference. At least, that’s what you wanted to tell and convince yourself it was. 

“He’s the Firelord,” you rationalize, “whatever he wants, and however he wants, will always be what he gets.” 

“Then I suppose you’re ready to start working, hm?” Rin’s words were a little too cheeky. It was too early, and you were barely awake. She uses her lips to gesture to the cart near the chefs. They were actively prepping it, adding plates of food while adding covering domes to retain the heat. 

You were unsure what was the big deal. Breakfast is a given, and you always brought him his meals. “Is there something different with his meal this morning?” You ask innocently. 

Kira playfully pinches your bicep, “he came in this morning, and requested to have breakfast in his quarters.” That is when you realized why they were excitable. “He wanted us to let you know so you can bring it to him there rather than the Throne Room.” 

You quickly snaked your arms from their hold, much to their dismay. “You rumormongers,” you scolded under your breath. Rin and Kira poke at your sides, having you quickly skit across the room to the cart. You see that they had already prepared your tea set, leaving you the work to choose the herbs for his morning tea. 

You quickly assemble your mix, and make yourself scarce. Those Ladies could not keep themselves from looking at you and squealing at whatever thoughts they were picturing in their minds. But, there was something worth smiling at from their reactions for sure. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ 

You find yourself in front of Zuko’s door. You shakily knock his door, unable to stray clear of your embarrassment as all the guards looked at you with cheeky grins. Of course, they quickly stiffen and straighten up when they hear the door open. 

Before you stood a tall, and still quite sleepy Zuko. His shadow always ate you, considering how tall he was. You looked up to see his bed head, many black strands sticking out while the rest poured out to find solace along his body. 

His robes were loose, barely hanging his massive physique as it teased little snippets of his body. Defined collarbones with pooling dents, and hints of protruding muscle from the top of his pecs. You force yourself to bring your sight upward again, returning to the trance of those mineral eyes. 

“Goodmorning,” he rasps out. He lets out a yawn right after before stepping aside. “Please, come in.” 

You carefully roll in the cart, your heart quickening its own pace. It had only been hours since the two of you got on the same page, and kissed on it. You now cannot predict what’s to come next now that the nature of your relationship has changed. 

The sound of the door closing makes you take a quick inhale in. A shaky breath goes out after, and you consume yourself in preparing his tea. You listen as a chair drags along the floor, with it coming to your view. He sets it opposite of you, taking himself a seat to watch you work. 

Contain yourself. “How did you sleep?” You asked simply, your eyes fixed on your hands. You pulled at the leaves on the stiff stem that held them. He sneaks one of the leaves, twisting it at its broken end to have it spin. 

“Well,” he responded, his quiet low. Another yawn emits from his lips. “How did you sleep?” 

“Well,” you hum, feeling your face get warm once again. “A little too well.”

“Oh?” You glance over at him and jump at the sight. He had the back of the seat towards you, sitting on it with his arms crossed at the very top of the seatback. His head rested on his forearms, one cheek being pushed up just a bit. His eyes were dazzling, and very much eating you up. “Any particular reason why?” 

He was teasing you, and doing a good job at it. “N-no, don’t think so,” you stammer, diverting your eyes back to the kettle. 

“Is there anything I can help with?” He hums, his eyes scanning the domed plates on the cart. 

You shake your head, “I am here to serve you, in case you forgot.”

You fill the kettle with the herbs (with the water already filled) and quickly heat up the cooker with your bending. Placing the kettle onto the dancing flame, you close its lid and allow for it to start boiling. Without a task to occupy your eyes, you look up to see a pensive Zuko return your stare. 

“Wh-what?” You stutter, suddenly too shy to meet his gaze. 

“You’re just very beautiful,” he hums, his own face flush. “It’s so early, ‘nd I can barely keep my eyes open, but you are so beautiful.” 

His words sent a heat to your body. “L-Lord Zuko–” 

“Zuko,” he corrects you immediately with a teasing smile. “How can I court you if you keep being formal with me?” 

You quickly distract yourself with the plates of food, opening each dome to reveal his delicious meal. “...do not forget that you are still the Firelord. Even if I become your wife, I must address you as the ruler you are.” 

“‘If’?” He repeats, his tone suddenly displeased. He had an expression as if you had just slighted him. “Sai, to court you means I will marry you. I won’t allow any space for doubt in that pretty head of yours.” 

You stop your movement and quickly walk over to him. You playfully tap his shoulder, “you can’t talk like this with me… it’s a bit too, just… forward for me.” 

Zuko smirks, sitting straight once again. He reaches to take hold of one of your hands, allowing the rest of his arm to hang. He looks up at you, tawny eyes filled with admiration. “I’ve had these thoughts in my mind for a while. It’s nice to finally just say them, but… I apologize if it is too much.” 

Guilt quickly crept into your heart. You give his hand a soft squeeze, “...disregard what I said. You should never apologize for being honest, Zuko.” 

He quickly lights up again, his smile infectious. “You are already so considerate, my future Fire Lady. So gracious, so kind… and so lovely.” He knew just how to reaffirm you. 

You giggle, “alright, alright… you must be hungry, yes? Let me do your hair so you can eat with ease.” 

He obediently adjusts his sitting while you go to find his brush and pins. This felt more like what you were used to, and you found solace in the routine. When you turn, you see an eager Zuko await your tender care. 

You walk behind him, his head now back to hang from the seatback. This earns him another giggle, and he swears he feels above the clouds. This was the sort of feeling he deduced only existed in aesop tales, and never in reality. You gently took hold of his head and lifted it up so he was staring straight towards the bathroom once more. 

He had already been deeply infatuated with your hair stylist skills, but now it felt like a pure, blissful high. And this time, you took the liberty of priming him by giving his scalp a gentle massage. It was the way your fingertips just slightly dented into his scalp, sending relieving jolts down his spine. 

“Is that okay?” You kept asking every few moments, your words sounding like pure gold. Zuko groaned contently in response, gesturing for you to resume. He could die happy here, in your tender, love-like care. 

Then, you finally begin to brush his hair. You worked through the small tangles, being mindful not to ever pull and irritate his delicate scalp. He felt so, so damn lucky to have someone with such a light touch work around his embarrassing shortcomings. 

A fire rekindled inside him, a sort of flame that couldn’t be put out too easily. You brushed his hair upward, ensuring that every loose strand behaved itself. It was intense, the sudden feelings that were working him up. 

Suddenly, he couldn’t differentiate anything. You smelled of a sort of sweetness, a dangerous concoction of whatever that had a hold on his heart. He could fall asleep right then and there from how gentle you were being, but he feared missing out on any moments with you. 

“Zuko.” Your voice tickled his ear. Opening his eyes, he noticed you were now standing in front of him. “I just need to fix the front of your hair. If I may…” 

“Not to be the source of a potential power trip but,” Zuko begins, his lips forming an amused smile. “I am yours. Do with me what you wish.” 

This got a cough out of you, “b-be appropriate!” You scolded him, conveniently forgetting that he was the Firelord. You then bend down a bit, taking hold of his chin, “stay still for me, okay?” 

Zuko does the opposite usually, but this time he concedes. The tips of your fingers graze along his baby hairs, having you rub them down to create some semblance of uniformity. He watches as your hands lovingly fix his bangs, and how you would always smile whenever you felt the layers of them. 

It was always such a gift to be taken care of by you. Zuko could not be more content with your hands working its magic, and your face so close. Now with everything between you a bit more settled, he felt more bold. 

“Hey,” Zuko hums, his eyes fixed on your lips, “can I…?” 

“Hm?” A confused tone coated your voice, much to Zuko’s dismay, “what is it?” 

He perks his lips out, “have a kiss?” 

You quickly move back, covering your mouth in the process. “You… have you even brushed your teeth?” You accuse. 

Zuko chuckles at you, “you would have already smelled my rancid breath if I didn’t. But I’m not a beast, I like to keep up with my hygiene.” You felt bad for even saying it, but you had to escape the tension. 

But it was difficult. You were excited to be with Zuko, and see how the future will look like with him in it. And he seemed just as eager, as he had his eyes fixed on you. He looked so relaxed and content, relishing in the privacy of being able to be with you as just him, and not as the Firelord. 

At the same time, you needed to understand what exactly you were getting to. Not because you were intending to yield, but you wanted to be prepared for what was next. “How about this…” your words sparked curiosity from the quiet man sitting in front of you, “I have a few questions… for each question you answer for me, I will give you a kiss.” 

His face immediately lit up, “ask me as many questions as you desire.” 

You return your hands to his bangs, giving its final adjustments as you lend one of your ears to the brewing kettle. “I need to know exactly why you did not just confess to me initially when I confessed to you,” you start boldly, your words leaving your tongue with ease. 

A pang hit his heart from your forwardness, “coming in hot with this question… but, you deserve your answer,” he says quietly, his eyes dropping down to his hands. He anxiously fiddled with his thumbs, “as you know, I was engaged quite a time ago… a long-time partner who had always been there, even when I was not the best to her.” 

“...this was actually going to be my next question,” you murmured, “please, go on.” 

Zuko nods, continuing after an unsure sigh, “we were very young when we began to date. But, I don’t think we actually considered what the future would look like. I became friends with the Avatar, and she technically was tasked against me upon my sister's demands.” 

You knew very little details about his relationship with Mai, so this truly trumped the rumors that made its passes in your little village. “A-ah, that sounds… not fun,” you supplement quietly. 

He laughs at your reaction, “and you’re right, it absolutely was not fun. But, after stopping my father and becoming Firelord, we were able to truly be in love the way we wanted to be. It was nice… for a time.” 

You decide his hair was properly done, but realized there was something missing. He watches as your attention goes elsewhere, but you reassure him, “please continue, I am listening.” 

He nods and resumes, “but, as you imagine, more responsibilities were getting put on my plate. Which I expected, as being the leader of an entire nation is not a walk in the garden. But at the same time, Mai also had responsibilities of her own within her own family.” 

“Lady Mai is of nobility, right?” You ask as you scanned his bed. His sheets were wrinkled and bundled up, replicated silk waves and hills. A mental note stuck to your head to do his bed. 

“She’s the eldest of, at the time, the governor of Omashu,” Zuko says quietly. He looked down at his hands, a little more anxious. You look over to see his hands now shake. Seeing this, you abandon your search and return to him. Finding the other chair in his quarters, you fix it to sit right in front of him. 

“Take it easy,” you lull, your hands cupping his own to still shake, “I’m here.” 

He needed to finish his answer so he could plant the biggest kiss on your lips. But, good things always come to those who wait. “But… Governor Ukano had been conspiring with my father, and ran a tyrant campaign in the second largest Earth Kingdom city. He was to be captured and imprisoned for a lifetime on the counts of colonization and treason on world peace.” 

“So, you had to arrest her father…” you whispered. You could see it bothered him, as he refused to make eye contact with you. “I imagine it was not a light decision…” 

“Mai was not necessarily opposed to it,” Zuko continued quietly, “so the decision did not kill me. What really pained me was that Mai had to then step up to take care of her mother and little brother.” 

You tilted your head, confused at his words, “...were they not permitted to reside in the Palace?” 

Zuko nodded, “I formally invited them to stay in the Palace… However, my council did not permit it.” 

“What?” You asked deadpanned. “Why?” 

“They believed that they might conspire against me, considering how adamant Ukano had been to play a leadership role under my reign.” He felt your hands squeeze his own just a bit more. It made it easier to recount such an upsetting occurrence. “As much as I offered such ways to release him from prison, he refused. So, the council refused for them to stay here, in the event that they may try and potentially murder me.” 

It’s very weighing to hear just how much Zuko has had to endure to end up here. And even then, it was a small glimpse of all the hardships he had endured just to restore the Fire Nation’s honor while simultaneously restoring world peace among the nations. 

“I guess that makes sense,” you admit quietly, “but, I do imagine that did not sit well with Lady Mai…” 

Zuko shrugged, “how could I blame her? That is her family, and they were being accused of being potential murderers. I could not force her to endure that for my sake.” He lets out another deep breath, this time, it seemed to have returned a little more warmth to his pale complexion. “I could not advocate for her, as I am the Firelord. My obligation is to my nation as a whole. So… I let her go.”

You wished you could ease whatever guilt he had in his head and heart. The pain was very clear in his words, which surprised you that he was able to recount the details with a good amount of ease. “Zuko…” 

“To answer your initial question,” he does not let you truly interrupt him. He clears his throat, raising his head so he could lend you his wondrous, amber eyes. “I was too scared to confess to you because I did not want to feel bound to this life, and the sort of expectations that will be put on you.” 

You considered this, too. Not very far, but you knew that marrying the Firelord was not just a simple affair. It was a commitment to not just him, but to the Fire Nation and the rest of the nations. You will share his hardships, and contribute to the peaceful future that he and many others seek. 

“At the same time…” his face goes plum, “I did not want to have my heart broken once again. It took… a long time to rebuild after Mai.” 

You give him a weak smile, trying your best not to cry for him. It felt like a direct arrow to the chest to see him so vulnerable before you. It almost made you regret asking, especially during the early morning hours. 

Thoughtlessly, you stood up, bringing your hands up to his face, and cupped his cheeks. Without missing a beat, you pull him in and plant a gentle kiss against his lips. You would pull back a second, just to collide his lips once again. You then pull back, letting go of his face in the process to look away shamelessly. 

He really did brush his teeth, you thought to yourself. You tasted the refreshing spearmint from his lips. “I-I asked you two, and I got two… s-so you get two.” 

The stoic expression that previously reigned his face was now replaced with a gleeful grin. The light returned to those eyes, and he reached out to hold your hand. He helps you take your seat once more, and gives that same hand a little squeeze, “thank you for asking. It’s nice to be able to talk about it without it feeling like a lot.” 

“I appreciate you being honest with me,” you said quietly, instinctively touching the callouses on his hand. “Lucky for you, my life has been extremely plain until I came here. My parents make tea, and I never really stayed with a boy long enough to love them.” 

“So… I will be your first love?” Zuko asks quietly, attempting to subtly tease you. 

But you roll your eyes at him, “don’t start. Speaking of, I need to find Lord Layro soon. I feel awful to turn him down after giving him some hope, but…” 

Zuko expression skews from your words. He quickly sits up, clearing his throat while his eyes scan around the room. You lift your eyebrow, with him casually (and somewhat shamelessly) giving you a quick glance. “Do not worry about Lord Layro… he’s already been informed.” 

Widen eyes take hold, and you could only be baffled at Zuko’s words, “...how so?” 

Another cough from the Firelord erupts, “I went ahead and wrote him a scroll. We came to an understanding.” 

“Oh?” You could feel the sinister pleasure in his words. 

He pretends to be serious, but there was a clear satisfaction hiding in his words. “He left the Palace immediately after. I believe he left before sunrise.” 

The man was shameless, but you knew that. He admitted to his shortcomings, and it seemed jealousy liked to make itself very known. You pull at his hand, forcing him to lean forward a bit, “and may I ask what the letter entailed?” 

His eyes find their way elsewhere in attempts to continue avoiding your eyes, “the letter entailed what it needed to entail… I wanted to save you the trouble of rejecting his courtship.”

“Zuko,” you no longer entertained his avoidance, “what did you tell Lord Layro?”

With that tone in your voice, he had no choice but to obey you. Anything for you to talk sweetly to him once more. With his free hand, he begins to scratch the back of his neck, “I informed him that I am now courting you, so he should consider his pursuit for you, null.” 

The man before you was completely unabashed, and only acting avoidant to try and meander in your good graces. But, there was something exhilarating in being so wanted by a man every woman wanted and what every man wanted to be. He was jealous, and honest about it, though it took a few pushes. 

You let out a sigh, “Zuko, for my sake, I do ask that you be a bit more… discreet with our current relationship. It is different, and new, and not everyone will take it well.” 

Zuko finally finds your eyes, and there is a sudden contest in his eyes, “who is this ‘everyone’ you are worried about here?” 

With your free hand, you wave at the Palace surrounding you, “--everyone here, the entire Fire Nation, and the rest of the nations!” 

A pout tugs down at Zuko’s bottom lip, “...do you wish to keep our relationship a secret?” 

You froze, feeling your own heart break at his somber expression. Zuko, who was a master at keeping composure and usually solemn had you now puddying at the slight sight of his woeful expression. 

“Zuko, it is not that I want us to remain a secret,” you slowly begin to explain. You keep hold of his hand to waive his concerns, but also use it to level your own anxiety. “But… it has not even been a day after you’ve confessed to me, and decided to court me. Should we not have a little time to figure everything out before we tell the world what we are?” 

Zuko shrugs, his expression genuinely innocent, “what is there to figure out?” 

Your insecurities began to snake up on you. It was about time, considering how surreal and giddy you’ve been feeling since last night. You hesitate before responding to his question, “like, what if… what if we do not fit? What if we just don’t end up making sense?” 

He gives you a smile, one as warm as the sun, “I don’t think I will ever be this sure about someone in my entire life again. Should we run into problems, we will resolve them. I will be happier in hardships with you than a ‘calm’ life on my own.” 

You scoff quietly, “you are too confident.” 

“You make me confident,” Zuko reassures quickly. He pulls your hand in and bestows a warm kiss on your knuckles. “It is because you make so much sense to me that I have not a doubt in my mind.” 

He was too sweet, it somehow worried you. “You barely know me,” you tease, gently pulling your hand from his hold. “What if you find out things about me that you cannot compromise with?” 

A chuckle quickly left his lips, “what, like the way you remove all the carrots in any dishes the chefs cook?” He calmly points out, forcing a flustered mph! from you. “I always watched as you separated them from your rice, or soups, or salads.” 

“I do not!” You try to refute, but Zuko long caught your tongue. “A-and why are you watching me so closely as I eat?” 

“Because I like looking at you,” he says simply, setting your heart ablaze. It could pop out of your heart, and you’d probably still feel it pacing vigorously. “And I like everything else about you– even the things I do not know yet. I look forward to learning every single thing about you.” 

You try to look away but he reclaims your hand. He tugs it gently, itching to have your attention once more. He is met with a flushed face so cute, he wishes he could capture it and stow it in his memories forever. 

“Th-that is fine and well, but…” your doubts swarmed you now, suddenly holding your feelings in a chokehold. “If your council did not accept Lady Mai’s own family to be here, why would they even consider a peasant like myself to marry the Firelord and bear your heir?” 

Zuko’s eyes narrowed, “how do you mean?”

You blink a few times, surprised at Zuko’s question, “I am far from what the Firelord is supposed to marry. It is sweet that I make sense to you, but the council will absolutely think otherwise.” 

Those thunderous eyes went dark– a storm was quickly settling inside them. “Does my council worry you? That they will not approve of you?” You hesitate before giving him a sheepish nod. He squeezes your hand, his expression unshaken. “Do not let that poison your mind. When I speak to the council, the only answer I will be accepting is yes.” 

He was too saccharine for this world. “...am I to be in attendance for this meeting?” 

“If you’d like,” he says quietly, “but, I understand if you wish not to be.” 

“...I have a few points that may help persuade them,” you hum, hoping to chip away the tension and your own nerves. 

“Oh?” Zuko was surprised, a toothy grin painting his lips, “like what?” 

“I make a pretty good cup of tea,” you say jokingly, “my track record is untouched so far. I could even gather feedback from the staff!” 

With his free hand, he covers his face completely. He couldn’t believe how silly you got after a previously tense dialogue. It truly showed just how tough you were, even if you might not believe this to be an instance. You might be nervous, sure, but you were still, still with him. 

You then realize the blaring whistle of the kettle sounded, and the tea was ready. But, your mind returned to your earlier search. His crown. The one you had protected so passionately, your grip did not sway even in your unconsciousness. 

As you walked around the room, you pulled at the flame boiling the kettle. In a moment, the fire disappeared, and the only thing hot was the kettle's water and the lonely line of steam coming from its spout.

Zuko’s eyes just watch you be you, your mind so mindless that it felt as if you two had already wedded. Your face was normal, not shy or timid. The way you meandered the room like it was your own, your hands curtly revising through baskets and drawers you were familiar with. 

He need never drink if being with you feels like this. Just watching you sent his blood rushing, and he looked forward to every second of you and your shared future. He wasn’t sure what it is, but something heightened these feelings for you. 

You then open the doors to the massive balcony and spot it. It sat there, isolated and collecting dust. As if he had not been wearing it for weeks. As you go to retrieve it, your eyes meet the morning sun. 

Zuko gets up from his chair and goes to find you, only to see a heavenly sight. 

With your back towards him, he saw as you delicately sat his crown on your hands. Your thumbs barely tipped it, casually rubbing off some accrued grime. But, you had been facing the sun, having him focus on the way its glow outlined your body. 

Perhaps you truly did fall from heaven. The sun even basked in your beauty. It had to, because Zuko would, too. He was in a trance for a moment, until you looked back down at the crown. Pulling up the skirt of your attire, you begin to clean off the crown. 

You dirtied your own linens to clean off his crown. He was in so deep, he was ready to drown in you. 

Zuko quickly rushed to you and stopped your hands, “what are you doing?” 

You stare at him, dumfounded, “the crown is horribly dirty. Why have you not been wearing it?” 

He wanted to be excruciatingly honest, but he feared that you would cry. And he was not wrong, for if he were to say so, you would cry rivers long enough to map. So he gave you a warm smile, “I was waiting for you to be the one to put it back on my head.” This was still honest, too. 

You blushed right then, “y-you are the Firelord. You cannot be without this crown for long, so please do not wait for me to be the one to put it back on your head.” 

You two looked at one another, a stare so intense that not even a sound could break it. It was a silent accepted apology, the reality being that you never harbored any ill or anger toward him. His eyes illuminated against the sun's rays, his scar offering solace in its quiet grace of mending. 

Then, he slowly bows down to you, waiting for you to place it in his hair that you carefully done up. You finish cleaning it off completely before lifting it up to his head. Carefully, you push it down on his bun, ensuring the pointed end did not hit his scalp. 

But of course it didn’t, because it was you. 

“...you may rise now,” you whisper, your voice suddenly feeling louder than the quiet ambiance outside. You did not seek to wake up the trees, giving the sun its right to do that job. But, you notice that Zuko only lifts his head, his face just a small space away from your own. “...Zuko?” 

“Now that that’s done, there is one more thing I need,” he says simply. 

“Mm?” 

“I’ve answered quite a few questions now,” his voice was now filled with tease, and an amused smile played on his lips. “But, I have not received my rewards yet. I believe we have many kisses backed up…” 

You brought a hand to his chest, and looked away, hoping he did not see your warmed face. “...eat first, and we will discuss what I owe you.” 

He was amused at your shyness, he loved messing with you. He nods, “fine. But just remember…” his eyes fix on yours, his smile unrelenting, “you should never have dues to me. Especially for the price of your lips.” 

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He wasn’t jealous. 

He just wasn’t a fan of the way you were being looked at while you refilled tea. The way multiple pairs of eyes followed your every move, and illuminated from your infectious laughter. You sauntered about the room in service, and their eyes followed in hunger. 

He also did not love the way Lord Layro would beckon you over, thanking you for your work over and over. Zuko could hear the way he praised your tea, establishing the talent your hands held all the while adoring you in every way he could. 

It wasn’t that Zuko wanted this, but his malicious thoughts wished that he would step on a boundary. Say something that was unwelcomed by you, or touch you in discomfort. Anything to give him reason to keep you away from these beasts. 

But alas, Lord Layro knew how to play his cards. Despite his sweet demeanor, Zuko knew just how experienced he was with buttering up women. The way he’d flash these toothy grins, and gracious winks whenever you serviced him. He was unknowingly good at tussling Zuko’s feathers, worsening his already bad mood. 

“Firelord Zuko?” A calm tone beckoned him. Leaving his trance, he looked up from his throne to meet eyes with Lady Kira. She, like the rest of the women, was adorned in beautiful dressware. He pats the side of her arm, silently asking what she needed, “would you like more food or a refill of tea?” 

Zuko shakes his head, “no, thank you, Lady Kira. I’m, um, pretty full right now. Everything is really delicious– thank you all for working so hard.” 

Lady Kira had to keep herself from laughing, considering how barely touched his food was. But, she couldn’t hide her smile when she noticed his cup of tea was completely downed and emptied. “Are you sure you don’t want a refill of your tea? You’ve drunk it completely, Firelord Zuko.” 

His amber eyes traced you like it was his job. It was like a fear– as if you should ever leave his sight, you’ll be taken from him forever. He finally registers her words, “I will wait when Lady Sai comes to refill it for me.” 

Lady Kira giggled, becoming a bit too aware of the situation at hand. She watches as Lord Layro speaks with you, conjuring all sorts of smiles and laughter from you. His eyes glistened to see you so loose, so content. Strangers meeting, and suddenly finding themselves in a cliche trope, much to Zuko’s detest. 

“Are you sure you can wait?” Lady Kira egged him on, her unrelenting support for your happiness weaved in her tease. “It looks like she might be occupied for a while…” 

While Zuko was busy fuming in his throne, you were busy with your own problem. 

You had no interest in these men, who were clearly interested in you. They were careful not to cross any boundary, considering word had moved quickly regarding Lord Indra. But, it did not make the eyes on you any easier to deal with. 

Especially with your scar so exposed, you felt just a twinge vulnerable. At the same time, it played as a warning. You had a slow recovery to your dignity, and you did not want to seem fragile, despite what happened. It happened, and you remain here, able to work and smile again. 

To hell with Lord Indra, and the expected shame and embarrassment from something you did not provoke. 

You had to admit; you were exhausted though. It was a lot to go from being bedridden for weeks to being on your feet, running about to serve tea and speak with men whose main goal was to conquer you. Even the praise of your delicious tea was becoming stale, and you were exhausted from saying ‘thank you’ a million times. 

But, Lord Layro was particularly exhausting in the sense that he was a bit too astute. 

As you pass him by (perhaps for the 6th time) with a small kettle in hand, he gestures for you to stay. “I was trying to think of a different way to continue complimenting your tea,” he hums quietly into your ear, “but I couldn’t, so please don’t be too disgusted by my words… but, you truly do have a way with herbs.” 

You immediately snort, looking away to conceal your wide grin. It was silly, and dorky, but at least he was honest. He primed you with the corny compliment, so you were truly warned ahead of time. “...thank you very much for your words, Lord Layro,” you reply, still doing your best not to laugh too much, “‘m glad you all have been enjoying it. I’ve had to refill the kettle quite a lot to satisfy the need.” 

“It’s extremely delicious,” Lord Layro says with ease, taking his empty cup in his hand. He sheepishly lifts it near you, silently asking for a refill. “I’m especially surprised at how you’ve used guava to make it taste so sweet.”

Your eyes widened as you carefully poured tea into his cup, “...I made a guava syrup that was used to sweeten it… sorry, I’m just so surprised you’re familiar with the flavor.” 

Lord Layro’s eyes also widened with surprise, “its more surprising to hear that you all have guava accessible here. It makes sense, considering this is the Palace. But, it’s quite the price and effort to get guava imported here, considering it is not native to any Fire Nation islands.” 

You blinked a few times, “is that right?” 

He nods, “the Firelord must love guava a lot to have such effort be done to bring that here. That, or it must be a Palace favorite.” 

“You know a lot about exotic fruit,” you mention, stirring the conversation. “Are you interested in pomology?” 

Lord Layro chuckles, “I’m not a crazy fruit man, I assure you. My grandmother though was an herbalist and studied fruit as part of her research on herbs and natural remedies.” 

Your heart jumped, and he saw in real time your excitement. You gushed about herbs, and how your interest aligned with his grandmothers, more towards the realm of apothecary. And he couldn’t help but melt into you, your words and your enthusiasm. 

He happily drank his refill with a quickened pace, keeping you there to refill his cup all the while continuing conversation. A Lady in Waiting noticed this and pulled a nearby, unused chair, offering it to you to sit. “Oh– I’m just about to go back to work–” 

“We have everything under control,” the woman reassured, giving you a wink as she walked off to attend to a lord, who definitely had his eyes set on her. Lord Layro offers his hand, helping you lower yourself to your seat, much to Zuko’s disgust. 

He chuckles as you shyly settle into the chair, “it’s sweet that you ladies are not jealous or envious of one another.” 

You nod, and with a simple tone, “this isn’t a competition. We want one another to be happy, and whoever is chosen has the right to live that life they desire.” You gently place the kettle on your lap, careful to not let it spill. 

He nods, respecting how you all treat and care for one another. He takes a look around, seeing the eyes thin out, with few still taking interest in you. “It must feel nice to be desired this much. Has any lord caught your attention yet?” 

No, you thought to yourself immediately. None of these men, despite their looks and kindness, interested you at all. The man you sought was busy sitting on his throne, your broken heart sat far in his legacy. 

“It would not matter if I did choose one of you,” you say quietly, “I am not considered a candidate… at least not technically.”

Lord Layro sat on your words, grinning before taking another sip of tea. He then meets your eyes once more, “is this your way of saying you are not interested in being courted?” 

You shake your head, “it’s the rules. The women who are of nobility or higher class are to be selected first. And should there be any remaining lords, then they are permitted to consider the remaining candidates who come from lower rank backgrounds.” 

“You mean to say you are not of nobility?” Lord Layro gestures to your dress. “You look priceless. It’s a shame I cannot fully see your beauty, but I very much appreciate what I can see.” 

You finally get to approach this subject, “if I may ask, Lord Layro… are you seeing impaired?” 

“Color blind,” he let out easily. He’s been asked this many times, you thought to yourself. 

You quickly bow in your seat, “I apologize if I’ve offended you by asking…”

He quickly calms your concern, “I’m grateful not to be completely blind, ‘else I wouldn’t be able to see what a sight that sits right in front of me. Though, I still envy my fellow lords who could see you completely.” 

He was good with his words, you could not deny that. You imagine he’s won many women over like this. But clearly he was here because he was still not wedded. It made you curious why he had yet locked a woman down. 

It was obvious the man was not ugly at all. Tall, physique seemingly maintained, and an inviting smile. He could not contest Zuko in looks, but he was not unappealing to the eye. 

“You are too kind,” you say quietly. You rise from your seat again, bringing the kettle back into your warm hands. “I hope you find the woman you seek here. They are all gems, so I can only imagine it will be difficult to choose.” 

Lord Layro smirks, his finger tracing the rim of his already finished tea cup. “I appreciate that,” he says simply. He gives you a toothy grin, “but it was very easy to choose the moment I saw you.” 

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Night came quickly, and many of the lords have settled with their chosen ladies. 

The few remaining candidates continued to service the remaining lords, still trying to entice them. The chosen ladies have already gone with their lord, either back to their home or to their temporary resting chambers outside the Palace. 

Zuko long approved the entanglements, thanking the ladies for their service and wishing them a happy life. He maintained his belief for the women of the Palace to decide what they seek, as many of them refused to participate and sought to remain in his service. It bothered some of the lords, who knew that a few of them would go home without a lady around their arm. 

Alas, such is life. 

The remaining lords were also seeping with envy, noticing that the remaining candidates had oogly eyes for Lord Layro. And you had to admit– among all of the noblemen, he truly was the most attractive choice. 

You took it upon yourself to take on the bulk of cleaning up dinner, knowing your fellow coworkers were busy trying to solidify the remainder of their lives. But most of the work had been done, leaving you to do your true assignment and clean up the Firelord’s dishes. 

You make your way up to the Throne, with a slumped Zuko. His eyes watched as you slowly made your way towards him. He adjusted his posture and sat up, clearing his throat when you made it to his level. 

“Lord Zuko, Master Iroh,” you say quietly, offering them both a bow. “Allow me to take your dishes for you.” 

Master Iroh knew his plan had worked when he lent his eyes to his nephew. Zuko tried acting unbothered, but he could tell that the young man was fuming in his seat. His eyes followed your every movement, watching you silently as you collected their dirty dishes on their shared table. He was bothered, but still was not quite there. 

But the final push finally came, and it came in the form of a Lord Layro with a request in mind. 

“Firelord Zuko,” he greets quietly at the very top of the staircase, offering him the expected bow. “As usual, your Palace always does a phenomenal job in hosting. The food, and particularly the tea, was quite amazing.” 

You jumped at his bold words, considering you were within their conversation while attending to the Firelord’s finished meal.

Zuko wanted nothing more than to dismiss him, but he still had to be respectful as Lord Layro has not done anything to offend. “I’m glad you found everything to your liking,” he rasped out, unentertained. 

“It was much more than I expected,” Lord Layro admits quietly. His eyes then zip over to you before meeting Zuko’s gaze again. “Hence why I have come to make a selfish request.” 

Zuko did not like this one bit, “...go on.” 

“I have found the woman I seek among the candidates,” Lord Layro says easily, his confidence oozing out of his words. “But I am unable to make my decision until the other women are no longer candidates according to the rules.” 

“Right,” Zuko says deadpanned, “so…?” 

“So, I come to request that I can attempt to court her first,” he hums, his hands flattening against one another in hope. “My fellow brothers have also taken interest in her, and I wish to prove my desire for her first.” 

Zuko already knew the answer, but he needed to confirm it, “and she is…?” 

“Your personal attendant,” Lord Layro says, his voice and words fully intentional. You quickly jump, giving him a shocked look. “Lady Sai is the woman I wish to court.” 

There were fireworks in Master Iroh’s head. 

Zuko’s eyes narrow, curious at the man's bold request. It was very audacious that he requested his personal attendant's hand. His jealousy finally broke his own meter, and he felt the need to test if your confession was still honest and true. 

“You don't need my permission to have a chance at her hand,” Zuko said simply. You were a person before you worked for him. And this decision pertains to the rest of your life, not his. Although if you were to allow Lord Layro to court you, Zuko would finally crack. “You must first ask if she even wants to be considered for courtship.” 

Lord Layro then looks at you directly, his enticing gaze attempting to seclude you. You note the determination in his eyes, his stare unrelenting. He was serious, and sounded genuine in his words. But, your feelings for the Firelord had no intention to budge, despite your recent rejection. 

You did not want to admit it, but you didn’t think you could love another being as earnestly as you love Zuko. But, an incredibly small part of you also knew you could not live the rest of your days waiting for him. That part of you could not be satisfied with this attendant/lord relationship. 

As you see the glimmer of hope in Lord Layro’s eyes, you knew you could not let his silent question go unanswered. “I am flattered, Lord Layro,” you say quietly, carefully choosing your words. “But, I cannot accept.” 

Lord Layro had a feeling you’d say no, but he still wanted to push on. To see if you could flip. “What could I do for you to at least reconsider?” 

You glance over at Zuko before quickly returning your eyes to Lord Layro. “I have given it thought… I do not wish to simply be courted,” you say quietly. You shuffle in place, the rawness of your feelings seeping out with your words, “...I wish to be loved. If you believe that you could fall in love with me, then… perhaps I will reconsider.” 

“I know I can fall in love with you,” Lord Layro hums. Zuko’s eyes study him aggressively, wanting nothing more than to shut him up. “Consider the thought that maybe… I already have.” 

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You had never seen Zuko like this. 

As the night ended and everyone went to their respective realms, you silently walked with Zuko back to his quarters. He was very clearly upset, but you had not an ounce of an idea as to why. You anticipated he’d tell you as soon as you were behind a closed door, but this felt different. 

He was pensive, and it seemed he was actively being tormented by his mind. But no words left his mouth, and you were too cowardly to traverse these scalding waters. All you could do was walk beside him as he was entrapped in thought, refusing to even look your way or anywhere else for that matter. 

As you finally make it to his bedroom, he silently opens the door and steps aside to allow you in first. You slowly walk in, refamiliarizing yourself with the space you had known for a couple of years. Despite it all, it didn’t change. 

The door closes behind you, and your favorite shadow swallows your own. You turn around to see Zuko, who didn’t dare meet your eyes. There was a sort of weird look in his expression, like a sort of shameful anger. He looked discontent, either at you or at himself. 

Either way, from the looks of it, you’ll be the first one to face it head on. 

“...I thought you did not wish to be courted,” Zuko rasped out quietly, his hands forming into softly clenched fists. “Did you change your mind?” 

This is what he’s mad at? “...I have always wanted to get married,” you say quietly, “but my desire to remain here in the Palace and my courtship are aligned… and you know that better than anyone." 

“y/n,” Zuko says your name shakily, trying to control his feelings. It was difficult, but keeping his eyes away from you helped. “I thought your plans were to remain here, in the Palace, for the rest of my days, and from what I remember, for the rest of yours, too.” 

You stare at him, surprised at his clinging to a previous statement from time ago. “Lord Zuko,” you begin, the formality stabbing his heart. “Perhaps you have taken my words a little too literally…” 

He did not like your words. “I took your words too literally?” He questions, his tone filled with a tone foreign to you. “So I should believe nothing you have ever said to me.” 

“Lord Zuko, what in the world are you talking about?” You quickly catch him. “That is a saying– and we were joking, but my desire is to remain here in the Palace, just not as your attendant. You know exactly what I am referring to.” 

Zuko gulps, his throat completely hitched. It felt heavy and burned as it went down his throat. Still keeping his eyes from you, he shook his head, “I gave you my answer.” 

The audacity of this man. “And I do not accept it,” you challenged, your eyes disgusted by his greed. “I do not accept that I am not to be with the person I wish, nor can I be courted by anyone else. I wish to remain here, but I wish to fall in love, too.” 

“We all can’t have what we want, y/n,” Zuko replies slowly, “you must choose one or the other.” 

You wanted to burst, but you were not quite there yet. “I chose you,” you hissed out, your eyes threatening to well up in tears. “But you… you did not choose me back.” 

He was bested. “...that has no relevance here,” he murmured. 

“Oh, but you can reference things from the past?” You continued to challenge him, unable to accept his hypocrisy. “You are the Firelord, but you should not permit your title to blur your sense of rationality.” 

Fuck. He was losing his hold on his emotions, feeling it tip the glass and pour out. Even as he looks away from you, the sight of you in that beautiful dress has been permanently branded in his head. He knew what you looked like all too well because he spent all day looking at you. 

“You know you are not bound to this Palace,” Zuko painstakingly admits. “If you seek to be relinquished from your life here, know that you are not tied here, to me.” 

“...But I wish to be,” you said quietly, your confession once again resurfacing. “I wish to remain here, by your side, as yours.” 

“Y-you… cannot,” he quickly rejects again, his fists only getting tighter. He melted at the sound of you being his. “We cannot.” 

“Why?” You were feeling a little too bold, “whose word is above yours?” 

“y/n,” he pleaded with you. It was the first time you had truly heard his desperation. You could only watch him as he endures his own enacted mental warfare. 

He didn’t want to force you in this life, considering how things had ended with Mai. 

Your scar. How could he keep you safe when you’d be in the spotlight as the Firelord’s wife? 

What right did he have to you? To your delicious tea? To your infectious laughter? To your addictive smile? 

Don’t look. He tries to keep himself at bay, warning himself of the consequences should he ever meet your eyes. But, the way his heart quickened, and his body trembled, there was a need that was threatening to overpower him. 

It was all so… overwhelming. Nails begin digging into his palms. He could feel his self restraint loosening like tied ribbons. He held onto the delusion that perhaps keeping his eyes from you would benefit him against his treacherous feelings. 

But there you were, standing before him. The scent of vanilla and spice engulfed him in your trance. His eyes couldn’t help but glance over, landing on your shoulder, with one of your dress straps down and now hung beside your bicep. Your skin looked so soft–

Zuko was spiraling. His emotions put him in a seemingly endless state of push and pull. Fighting his looming expectations over his feverish desires. The build up finally poured over. He couldn’t do anything about it now. 

He looked up, finally finding your eyes. You jumped from the sudden stare, keeping completely still right after. His skin was shiny from sweat, with loose black strands sticking onto his forehead and cheeks. Those dark honey eyes held an intention you could not make out. 

But, you were exhausted from trying to figure him out. “Lord Zuko, I think I understand why you’ve avoided me for this long.” You let out a sigh, feeling your tears finally form. “And I apologize if my feelings have proven to be inconvenient to you.”

Rough hands find their way to your shoulders, his body bursting from the touch of your supple skin. You were soft and warm, with your skin shining beautifully under the dimly lit torches of the room. He thumbed at the little muscle between your shoulders and collarbones. 

“H-hey–” you stammered, unsure of what Zuko was intending to do. You weren’t afraid of him, never, but you weren’t sure what exactly he was doing. 

“Are you considering Layro?” He asks quietly, his eyes burning through you. He was breathing heavily now, as if the weight of the world had returned to his shoulders. He looked like a man addicted and in need of a hit. “Tell me if you wish to be courted by him, and I will stop.”

“Stop? Stop what exactly?” You say hush, completely perplexed by Zuko’s sudden behavior. 

“Answer my question first,” he demanded, his face now just centimeters from your own. You weren’t sure what to do, as the tip of his sharp nose barely grazed your own. You now began to move backwards, but was immediately stopped by a wall behind you. “Do you wish to go with him?”

You hold him in a stare, attempting to read him. It was how flush his cheeks were, and the tenderness in his eyes that made you realize. Everything started to click. 

“...his words are sweet,” you begin quietly, breaking your glance towards Zuko. You firmly press your hands against the wall behind you, feeling how cool it was. “But I cannot reciprocate earnestly when I wish those words came from someone else.” 

Zuko felt like he could burn up. His entire body felt as if it was set ablaze. His breath felt hot against your face, your periphery locked onto the way his chest heaved from his relentless panting. 

“Then…” Zuko rasps out quietly, meandering his head to try and grab your eyes again. After you refuse, he frees one hand to latch his fingers gently to your chin. He does not force you, no, but he persuades you to meet his eyes once more. “Remind me again what you want… from me.” 

And embarrass myself again? “...Absolutely not,” you immediately spew, anger beginning to rise. “I’ve already told you– many times now, and I’ve still been met with the same response. I respect you very much Lord Zuko, I do, but…” 

“‘But…?’” He repeats. 

Tears finally escaped you once more. You were too emotionally charged, and being in this moment, with him– it was all too much. “Zuko… please, I beg you… just sp-spare me…”

“Confess to me again,” Zuko practically begs, “please, confess to me again– I have… a different answer.”

Your hands find their way to his stiff chest, giving him a slight push. You try to look away, but Zuko still has a hold on your chin. He keeps you in his gaze, not forcefully at all. Those amber eyes looked stricken, and scared. “Stop messin’ with me,” you say abruptly, your face shiny from crying. 

That was it. Zuko was coming undone. 

“Damn it all…” he murmured to himself. He drops his hands to your own, completely cupping them in his. He takes a deep breath in before letting it out, hollowing his lungs completely. “Listen… ‘m gonna be super honest here, and I just need you to not say anything ‘til I’m done… okay?” 

All you could do was nod. 

“To start, I won’t let Layro court you,” he said darkly, his eyelids slightly lowered. “I tried to convince myself that it would be your choice, but I could not stand the way he made you laugh today.” 

Your eyes widen, the stream of tears taking a pause. 

“I don’t like the way he touched your hand, and how much of your tea he drank,” Zuko struggles out his point, embarrassment clearly present in his words. “I wish to respect your choice, but I wish more for my sanity and might lose it all if I let you go.” 

Your body relaxes, but the tension heightens. He squeezes your hands a bit more. 

“I wanted to rip out everyone's eyes when they looked at you,” Zuko continues, his shameless thoughts finally coming out. “I wanted nothing more than to take you away, pry you from their sight and banish them from ever seeing you again.” 

You tried to interrupt, but Zuko’s words continued. 

“When you confessed to me,” he begins, his bottom lip quivering. You could see those yellow orbs soften, replaced with something familiar. There was a sort of longing in his gaze, like you were slipping away from him. “I gave you a shitty answer.” 

You snorted, but the tension quickly took your smile.

“You have a home here– forever, that is true,” he begins to slowly close the space between you two. You could feel his hot forehead against your own. “But, I only said that because the real answer kind’ve scared me.” 

He lets go of your hands, moving them to cup your cheeks instead. Your breath now hastens, excited but anxious for the unknown to come. You bring your hands to his wrists, trying to find some semblance of calm. 

“But when I saw just how close Layro was to taking you from me, I just…” Zuko looked pained, grimacing at the painted picture of you with another man in his mind. “I hate to give him credit for any of this, but he made me realize just how much I want you to be mine.” 

You gulped, the sound being incredibly loud in such quiet tension. “...L-Lord Zuko, I–” you try, but he does not allow you on the stage. 

“I admit to being bad, because I am bad,” Zuko’s voice strained. “I’m selfish, I’m jealous– my list of shortcomings will only get larger. But, I will court you, and I will make you fall for me because I want you to fall for me because I’ve long fallen for you.” 

You finally break his streak and shake your head, “how am I to believe you– after all this time, after you’ve rejected me? My feelings?” 

“How can I convince you? I– I will beg, if need be–” Zuko lets go of your face, and slowly slides down, keeping eye contact. You watch as he’s brought down to his knees, his hands latching to the sides of your thighs. 

“L-Lord Zuko, p-please rise!” You urge him, grabbing at the shoulders of his garment. You desperately pull upward to no avail, seeing as his knees were firmly dug to the floor. “You must not beg like this– you are the Firelord, and I am nothing.” 

He shook his head, but obeys your words. He rises, his hands once again finding themselves holding your face. “You are everything,” Zuko murmurs quietly, his face once again so close to yours. The very tips of his lips graze yours, yet they do not firmly touch. Those dazzling eyes burned through yours, “because when I look into your eyes, I see myself in them. Not the Firelord, not the Prince… just me.” 

Your fingers tighten your hold on his robes, your breath shaky. “Lord Zuko…” 

“Zuko,” he corrects you, his breath tickling your lips. His eyes kept flickering down at them, fighting himself between staring at them and your wondrous eyes. In a hush, desperate whisper, he spoke, “may I…?” 

It only took one nod before he finally closed the gap. Hot, chapped lips connect with yours, a brief clatter of teeth before a gentle pace proceeds. You were inebriated by his usual minty scent, suddenly completely engulfed in him. 

There was a desperation in the way that he kissed you. He was too hurried, too needy, as if you were to disappear if he stopped. Every few moments you pulled away to breathe, he’d just recollide with you. When you would sneak a peek at him, you saw nothing but a completely flush face. 

There was something primal in his behavior. His tongue aimlessly entered your mouth, as if he didn’t know what to do. And he didn’t, but he paid no mind to that. He was here, kissing the one woman he had wanted to kiss for so long. And somehow, with every second passing in this moment, he became increasingly more insatiable. 

“Ha…” he whined, as if he wasn’t getting what he wanted. The wet sounds of his lips lapping at yours, the sounds of his jagged breathing making your mind fuzzy. 

“Z-Zuko, h-hang on–!” He didn’t want to give you the chance at all. His calloused hands held your face, his body now pressed against your own. And your escape routes only narrowed, considering you were against the wall and powerless against the man before you. 

But, he then takes hold of your bottom lip, his teeth sinking in gently to nibble at its puffy, plump state. You watch as he gently tugs it before letting go, your lip a deeper pink from his pull. You stared at his cocky flushed faze, a shiny string of saliva still connecting you both. 

Allowing you both a moment to take a breath, Zuko takes the opportunity to look at you. Face flush, cheeks hot, lips puffy and eyes larger than the moon. He slides down one of his hands from your face, rubbing down the side of your neck before looping your loose strap in the web between his thumb and index. He pulls it up, allowing it to hang on your shoulder once more. 

“‘m sorry, f-for everything,” Zuko whispers, his hand resting on the crook of your neck. “But, I will give you what you want… because again, I want you.” His words are jagged from catching his breath. “You will be loved, I will court you– you will remain by my side, and I will give you the entire world… and then some. That is, though…” he licked his lips before giving you a smirk, “if you will let me.” 

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It took a lot in Zuko to stay away from you. 

But he managed it, and in such a shameless manner. He asked– no, demanded that you take a few weeks to rest. His worry was engraved in every word of his request, and you were too weak to even muster a feeble protest. You let him go, not unscathed but with an out. 

But even he could not dismiss the embarrassment that loomed over him. It followed him around like his own shadow, attached at his very outline. But who could really control themselves in a situation like that? The very idea of taking your hand in marriage burned him up. If he remained in your room minutes longer, he likely would have proposed. 

But he had to consider everything, especially if it may do you harm to marry someone like him. 

Rather than forwardly rejecting you, he opted into just offering you permanent residency and secure life here at the Palace. You need not worry about the rest of your life, as you will be safe and sound under his watchful eye. And there was no need to exchange anything– no need to exert your feelings. 

He was satisfied with just you being here, in his vicinity. Zuko could once again triumph through these quiet corridors, knowing that you were awake and recuperating safely. It was enough, he convinced himself, as he forced down the latter of his true feelings. 

But hiding this was not simple, especially from his friends. Toph was the first to really grill him, considering her habit of perusing around. She’d always find him in the throne room, ‘working’ away through scrolls. But despite her blindness, she could always hear the silence before her arrival in the room. That was when he’d pick up his quill and begin scribbling away. 

Even during meals, she never failed to ask him how you were doing. He’d try to play it off, guessing you were well as he has not gone to visit. But, she was familiar with the pace of his stride, which would always sound in your corridor around the afternoon time every day. She never quite hits it on the nail, as Zuko had already been stressed as is. His behaviors were sufficient for her to conclude an answer. 

Sokka was the same, now that Zuko has been a bit more relaxed. He’s joined many training sessions with him and Aang, wanting an excuse away from work duties to just be with his friends and stretch his muscles. ‘How’s the beau?’ Sokka is always teasing, albeit his panting and lack of breath. 

Zuko would either ignore him, or respond with, ‘y/n is fine.’ But Sokka was astute, seeing as he was now in a different reactive state. Now that you were fine, Zuko was less stressed but not quite happy. He would press on too, but like Toph, Sokka did not want to add more to his plate. 

Aang was in the same dojo, except he took a more direct approach. As they both talk frequently about their future plans to make a centralized hub for all four nations, Aang couldn’t help but notice his friend's shift in feelings. What, with how Zuko would touch his hand frequently, as if he’d developed some sort of anxious tendency. “Is everything okay with you and y/n?” The Avatar would always ask, stepping just barely at the shore of treacherous waters. 

Zuko would always smile curtly and nod, not providing any additional details. It was almost like he wanted to avoid you whole, even in conversation. It was such a strange 360, considering how Zuko was acting just days prior. But even Aang knew better than to go any further, considering how things have been with him lately. 

Katara was truly the one to sail such dangerous waves. 

It has been 2 weeks since he had seen you. The Waiting Ladies would give him updates when he asked, always smiling teasingly in their heads at the way the Firelord worried about you. He tried to be discreet and straight-faced, but his tone always gave him away, whether he knew it or not. 

That night, and as always, Zuko arrived first to the dining room. He long changed into his night attire, his robe loosely tied. The linens were practically hanging off him, his collarbones shiny and exposed after having taken a bath.  

The Ladies in Waiting quickly face him and bow, to which he immediately asks them not to. “No need to stop and do that,” Zuko softly insists as he walks up to the table. “It’s just me,” he says quietly, grabbing the small stack of places to distribute. 

“Firelord Zuko, you do not need to do this,” Lady Kira hums, quickly rushing to take the plates from him. 

But he pulls them away from her grasp, not quickly but enough that she cannot reach for them, “I want to help.” 

The ladies shuffle in their place, appreciating their leader but still not convinced. “...are you sure, Firelord Zuko?” Lady Kira spoke for them, her voice hesitant. “We do not want to bother you.” 

“You ladies have never been a bother,” Zuko hums as he distributes the plates. “In fact, you all do so much for me that I think this is below the bare minimum that I can do for you all.” 

They all look at one another, their faces suddenly flush from his compliment. “Th-thank you, Firelord Zuko,” they say in unison before quickly getting back to work and distributing the remaining utensils and cups needed. 

As that task gets finished, the majority of the ladies rush off to check on the dinner. Lady Kira always lagged back, knowing Zuko would likely want to ask her about you. And she was right, as she slowly sauntered to the exit, Zuko called back out to her. 

“Lady Kira,” Zuko hummed her name, the rasp and anticipated question becoming familiar to her. She turns to face him, curtly bowing. 

She offers him a sweet smile, “she’s doing very well. She’s eating more solid food and no longer needs assistance in the bath.” Her answer must have been satisfactory, as Zuko smiled widely before nodding her off. 

“Thank you,” he rasps quietly, letting her go. She quickly makes her leave, only to pause and bow to another entering dignitary: Katara. Lady Kira is scarce, leaving the two on their own. 

“You should pay her a visit when you can,” Katara’s entering words, immediately making the air a little more dense. Zuko says nothing as he meanders to his seat. He reaches over to the chair beside him, pulling it out just a bit for her to sit. But, she saunters to his other side and takes that seat instead. “Considering how much you pestered me to let you see her.” 

She had her hair entirely in this long, delicately done braid. She has changed out to another robe of the many, opting into this fully ruby-red robe with pale red accents. It was quite contrasting her those blue orbs of hers, but the distinction made her look a bit more fierce. 

“I will when the time is right,” Zuko responds, pushing in the chair he had initially pulled out for her. “But, she needs rest and I’d rather not interrupt the recovery process.” 

Katara stared at him deadpanned, “Zuko, she’s basically completely recovered. She intends to return to your aid tomorrow.” 

Zuko remains stone-cold, forcing down every mixed emotion that’s threatening to erupt. He was excited and scared to see you again, considering how he had left things. “I’m glad to hear it,” he struggled out, a hitch catching his throat. 

Katara couldn’t be more dumbfounded by Zuko. She knew how stubborn he was, but she did not realize just how far it was willing to go. “Be honest with me here, Zuko,” Katara begins, placing her hands on the table. “Are you scared to see her because she confessed to you?” 

Curve it. “Katara, she just woke up from being unconscious for a week,” Zuko says calmly. Under the table, he was rubbing his hands, an anxiety crawling at his bones. “People are easily excitable, especially after situations like this.” 

“It’s been two weeks and she still feels this way,” Katara claps back, “she is fully capable of sane and conscious thoughts. What will you reduce that to now?” 

He looks away from her for a moment, remaining silent. He was never good with interrogations, especially when it came to things he was mostly foreign to. He swallows before coming up with another excuse, “I am no hero, but perhaps my actions made her view me as such. Gratitude and love are entirely different things.” 

“You saved me from Azula all that time ago,” Katara spews, unwilling to take his point, “and if you weren’t aware, I am getting married to Aang.” 

“Katara, the Avatar has saved you numerous times before we even met,” Zuko points out, staring at her dead on. Good, she thought. She had finally dented into his feelings just a bit. 

“But in your argument of excitability, wouldn’t I have had the same reaction?” Katara points out defiantly. “You can’t keep up with this act, Zuko. I will not accept it.” 

“What act?” Zuko questions, his skin suddenly going cold. He could feel his palms become clammy, unable to fight off the feeling of being both hot and cold. 

“This whole pretending that you don’t know that she likes you,” Katara glares at Zuko. “How dare you try and reduce her feelings to your proclaimed ‘incapable mind?’” 

It’s heavy. Her words were too heavy. “Katara, I don’t want to talk about this right now,” he quickly tries to evade, covering his face with one hand. He didn’t want her to see his face, his expression full of shame. He knew he was in the wrong, but this was no time to get into his feelings that, in his mind, have no say in this conversation. 

Katara stands up from her seat, her hands firmly pressed down on the table. “You know what– maybe it’s a good thing you’ve kept from visiting,” Katara says slowly, “because all that girl has done is cry over you.” 

Admittedly, that one hurt. The last thing Zuko ever wanted to do was make you cry, especially over breaking your heart. It was not his intention to dismiss your feelings. Truth be told, his desires were opposed to his actions. But, even so… 

“Katara, please cut it out already,” Zuko hums quietly. The anxiety was wedged in his throat, threatening to tip him over and completely lose the composure he’s built up. “I beg you…” 

“No,” she immediately refused, leaning in to get in his face. “You’re being a coward, and my friend is not a damn coward.” 

She finally made him crack. He rose to his feet as well, his shadow taking over her own. His honey eyes burned, and for a moment, all she could see was his teenage self. That familiar cold rage momentarily returned to its throne in the very center of his eyes. “Katara, what the fuck do you want me to say?” He spat, his patience thrown completely out the Palace. 

“Tell me you like her, too!” Katara matches his level, her voice rising with his. 

“It’s not about me, Katara!” Zuko hissed back, “I’m not doing this for me! This is all for her!” 

Katara rolls her eyes, “not being honest and breaking her heart is for her? For her sake? Or let me guess– it’s because you’re the Firelord, and you do not think she can handle that?” 

Zuko stood there, his feelings welled up and ready to pour out. His fingertips press down on the table, wanting nothing more than to burn it to ash. “If it did not work out with Mai, it will never work out with anyone!” His words escaped in a gritted-teeth whisper. “How could it work out with y/n?” 

His chest heaved, not quite from anger but the surprised relief. Zuko was not happy by any means, but to finally say this gripe out loud made him feel a twinge lighter. It does not change his regrets with Mai, but it does make his chest feel lighter. 

She pauses, realizing Zuko is finally being vulnerable. She can’t act like this was not her intention, but she wasn’t a fan of forcing his confession either. Taking her hands off the table, her expression immediately becomes somber. “Zuko…” she begins slowly, treading on the very ice she conjured, “I didn’t know this is how you felt.” 

“Yeah, well,” he stubbornly huffs, returning back to his seat. He slumps, looking away to try and conceal his flushed face. “I loved Mai too much to keep her trapped in this life with me. I thought that maybe our paths would intercept without another interruption when I became Firelord. Instead we just… crashed.” 

Katara returns to her seat as well, a sympathetic hand finding his forearm, “‘m sorry, Zuko. I know how hard it was after you both had ended the engagement. But…” she almost bit the tip of her tongue, being conscious of her words. “You should not compare y/n to Mai.” 

Zuko shrugs, still unable to join her glance. He twitches under her touch, his mind now clouded. He will always trust his friend, even if she triggers these reactions from him. He knows Katara does not mean harm, and would never do anything to harm him. But still, it did not make the situation easier. 

“Regardless,” Zuko quickly starts up again, his stress levels attempting to lower. But his chest still heaved, unable to truly stop his heart from racing. “You are partially right… I do not want y/n to live the life I live.” He looked down at the table, knowing his hands underneath were desperately keeping themselves from trembling too hard. “There is no freedom in power when people expect everything from you.”

Katara’s eyes were fixed onto his troubled gaze. It was like he was trying to sort his feelings in real time, right in front of her. “Zuko, don’t you think she has considered that?” Katara suggests softly. “To ask to be courted by the Firelord means she understands she will be marrying the ruler of the Fire Nation, and join you in such a position.” 

Zuko stills himself, just for the moment. He needed to regather himself after Katara had messed up his footing. He was able to hold it all in until now, and he needed to get it all bottled in again. He meets Katara’s eyes and gives her a stoic look, “it doesn’t matter. This is not what I want for her. My feelings are not allowed in this matter.” 

“And her feelings?” Katara says softly, her voice just hush enough. 

Zuko only stays silent, unable to keep up with the conversation any longer. He folded briefly, and could not allow that again. The weight of his troubles only grew bigger, and he needed to prioritize being the Firelord, not a lover boy. 

Little did he know the tea-loving man who hid outside the dining room, listening to every word. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ 

What good was love if it was met with rejection? 

Since Zuko had completely dismissed your feelings, you could only remain in your room, recuperating and rotting. Your enthusiasm to heal was at an all time low, and you could care less to start walking again. If it weren’t for Katara and your fellow Ladies in Waiting, you’d be weak, immobile and starved. 

But you knew you were beyond bold to even confess in such a way. To explicitly give him permission to court you were not light words, and should not be taken lightly in any regard. Perhaps you should have been a little less at the point, but these were your honest, pure feelings. 

You love Zuko. 

You knew you did. You knew you loved that he trusted you so much that he would come to your room like a little kid waiting to get his hair done for the day. You loved how considerate he was to you and the Ladies of the Palace, always ensuring they were not overworked. You loved how he always let out a content sigh after his first sip of your tea. 

You loved the way the sun kissed his skin at dawn. You loved how intently he would listen to your rambles about herbs and certain flowers. You loved how much he loved what he did, and the people he served. You loved to be part of what made Zuko a phenomenal Firelord. 

And, despite how intimidating it sounds, you loved him just that much to join him in doing such a scary job. You have never led a town– what qualifications could you argue that justifies you leading a nation? You did not know, but you were not opposed to learning. 

You’ve gotten this far– you can only get further. 

As you sat with this prominent pit of sadness in your stomach, you heard a quiet knock against your door. You quickly sit up, your hands immediately finding itself on your head to fix your hair. As you flatten the waves in your sheets, you quickly stammer out, “y-yes?” 

“May I come in?” A low, elder voice sounded behind the door. You immediately give him the greenlight, waiting as the door opens. Master Iroh makes himself seen in the doorway, the most heartwarming smile immediately coming your way. “Nothing makes me happier than seeing you well, Lady Sai.” 

You quickly bow on your bed, “Master Iroh, good evening!” 

He makes his way to the nearby chair (the one Katara is more than familiar with), and takes a large breath out when he sits. He looked at the kettle that sat on your bedside table and gave it a curious eye, “any tea left in there?” 

You nod, “absolutely.” You reach over, and prepare a cup for him. He lets you, despite not wanting to force yourself. From the first look at you, he knew better than to push you any further down the ditch you’ve dug yourself in. 

Your eyes were sunken and swollen somehow, a shade of pink unrelenting around your eyes. Your face was bloated even due to how many tears you’ve shed. And even the glow in your eyes had dulled. 

You reach out, offering the tea cup to him, “for you, Master Iroh.” 

“I thank you kindly,” he replies back, taking a happy whiff of the steam. He holds it for the time being, allowing the tea to cool. “How are you feeling?” 

You nod weakly, your words (mostly) honest, “‘m well. I’m looking forward to getting back to serving the Firelord tomorrow.” 

His eyes widened with surprise, seeing as you were still a bit bedridden, “are you sure? You know you can take all the rest you need.” 

You shake your head slowly, a bit of your hesitance showing in your motion, “I should not be out of service for so long. I work for the Firelord, and he needs all his attendants.” 

Master Iroh lifts one eyebrow, giving you a good, curious look, “has my nephew reprimanded you for taking these days of rest?” 

Shaking your head quickly, you shake your hands in the air, “n-no! In fact, he was the one who allowed me to take such time… he was quite insistent, I promise you.” 

Master Iroh had to keep himself from chuckling. Seeing young people dancing around reciprocated feelings was always a guilty pleasure of it. It was particularly satisfying when one of those people was his very own nephew. 

And it was more fitting that Zuko was dishonest when it came to your confession. He always had trouble being able to follow his heart and express himself, considering the family dynamic he was given. Even so, Master Iroh figured he’d grow out of it after his time with his friends and becoming the Firelord. 

But as he watches your flushed face and stoic eyes, Master Iroh realizes that he could not leave Zuko alone. He was never going to, but he never thought he’d have to interfere in his more intimate feelings. That forced his laughter out, earning a confused head tilt from you. 

He waves at you, calming your potential qualm, “just remembering something, please do not mind me.” A gentle, worn hand reaches for his tea, and he gives it an appreciative whiff before taking a sip. “y/n, I would like to ask you something, if you are comfortable and willing to answer.” 

The air suddenly becomes serious, you could feel it. The tension made it so dense, you thought your lungs would go dry. But, you trusted Master Iroh. You could not imagine that he would interrogate you or get upset at any answer you give, even if it is not his preferred response. 

“Ask me anything, Master Iroh,” you say quietly, your voice teetering hesitation. You force down a swallow, “I will answer the best I can.” 

He offers you a small smile, “I appreciate that.” Putting the cup down, he leans in a little bit closer to you. Your eyes follow his hands, and the way he goes to hide them quietly in his large sleeves. “What are your feelings for my nephew?” 

You’re immediately taken aback by his ask. The first thought was to lie and say the usual thing any attendant would say about the Firelord. But, after Master Iroh allows you a few minutes to be pensive, you realize something; he already knows.

You squint your eyes at him, unsure what he was trying to play at. But, considering your very fresh rejection from the Firelord, there was no use or benefit to lying. You also did not need to be so forward, “why do you ask, Master Iroh?” 

The older man looks amused at your question, as you knew where he was getting at. “Well,” he huffs, adjusting his sitting, “it has come to my attention that you have offered your hand in courtship to him.” 

You don’t meet his eyes. Rather, they dull and find themselves fixed on the ripples of your pooled sheets. It wasn’t so much embarrassment, albeit the red hue blurred on your cheeks. It was just the reminder that your own boldness was rewarded with rejection rather than reciprocation. 

“That… is correct, Master Iroh,” you hum quietly, your fingers anxiously twiddling with one another. “I apologize… it is disrespectful to the Royal Family.” 

“Disrespectful?” Master Iroh’s eyes lift up completely, appalled by your words. Your breath hitched, hoping you did not add more fuel to the fire. “Sweet girl, I could not be more overjoyed that you have such feelings reserved for my nephew.” 

“Huh?” You tilt your head again, confused like a mutt being offered food. 

“I suppose it’s my turn to apologize to you,” Master Iroh begins, his voice lifted and much softer than before. 

This was the moment that Master Iroh admitted to scouting you for another reason besides getting Zuko a personal attendant. When he had gone in search of a personal attendant, he was really keeping in mind a good woman for his nephew to court. But, he knew it could not be any woman. 

“To enjoy tea means to be patient,” Master Iroh continues, his hand once again occupied by the warm cup of tea you served him. “Any woman can be beautiful, kind, and loyal but for my nephew, she needs to be extremely patient.” 

You finally speak, though your voice was as low as a mouse, “but why? Zuko is… really easy to love.” You admitted it directly. You love him. Even your heart hastened from the confession, though it knew to go steady as the man you had feelings for was not before you. 

Master Iroh smiled, his heart giddy from your warm words, “my nephew has become an incredible man, despite his upbringing. He has grown, but he is not perfect.” 

“That’s okay,” you add slowly, “nobody is perfect in this world.” 

“I agree,” Master Iroh concurs, his eyes filled with admiration towards you. “But, Zuko still has quite a way with sorting his own feelings. Especially if he is so willing to reject you to conceal them.” 

You blink a few times before questioning his words, “do you mean to say that he…?” 

Master Iroh looks at your perplexed face and begins to laugh. It was so hardy, you were sure his lungs would pop out. He offers you his free hand, with you carefully putting yours on it. “You’ve done the hard part,” Master Iroh praises, his grip just barely holding you, “let me do the rest for you.” 

You had no idea what Master Iroh was plotting. But, you knew even less about how he’s already enacted his scheme. And it began with a few letters already leaving the Palace.  

taglist:

“We already agreed on a signal,” he said, letting out a low moan as you licked him from base to tip. You took the head of his cock into your mouth for a swift second before pulling off with a pop.

“Which was…?” You brought both hands into play, stroking him. You were sure the slick noises were barely audible over the noise of the grand hall outside the doors.

He reached down, tugging the lobe of your ear with hardly any force. “The ear tug.”

“I didn’t see you! We have to think of another one.”

“Yeah... let me think,” he rasped, his hand moving to the nape of your neck to guide you back toward his length.

Under his firm grip, you bobbed your head, supporting his weight with one hand while tasting every inch of him. From this angle, he was breathtaking: his robes were an absolute mess, but the gold shoulder plates of his outer coat made his shoulders look even broader. His eyes flicked down to meet yours, his mouth parted, making no effort to hold back the moans spilling past his lips.

You kept going, gripping him tight and using your hand to complement the thrusts into your mouth, right up until his hand tightened in your hair and pulled your head back.

“Not yet. Get up,” he growled, gesturing toward his large desk.

You obeyed, gathering the slick beaded pre-cum from the corner of your mouth with a tip of your finger. “But we have to be back in—”

“Aang is currently trying to convince the Earth Kingdom delegates not to pull out of the council,” Zuko interjected, his voice thick. “I saw Katara on her way to bail him out. That gives us ten minutes, minimum.”

You licked your finger clean. “I like your math. Plus, Sokka is even chattier than usual after three cups of fermented plum wine… That’s another ten minutes right there. If we hurry, we can—”

Zuko shut you up with a kiss, his hands gripping your hips to lift you onto the edge of the desk. Before you could even catch your breath, he pushed you back until you were lying flat against the cool surface.

His hand cupped the side of your breast through your loosened dress. His lips trailed down the column of your neck, down to your chest, kissing one breast while massaging the other. He lavished his tongue over your hardened nipples like a man starved, alternating between them until you were writhing.

“I love to hear you talk,” he said against your skin, “but I love hearing you moan for me even more.”

He tracked a trail of fiery kisses down your abdomen, hooking his arms under your knees to spread your legs wide until he was kneeling between them. Without wasting another second, he dove straight for your center.

“Agni…” you gasped, your back arching off the hard desk. “Mm, I love—fuck taking a break!”

“Mhm…” he hummed against your heat. The vibration forced your hands to scramble for purchase on the edge of the desk, recklessly scattering parchment and official seals in the process.

Your whimpers only encouraged him. Zuko pinned you steady with a heavy arm across your lower abdomen. His free hand drove two fingers deep inside you, slipping in and out in tandem with the punishing work of his tongue against your clit.

He was rsdiating heat. His breath burned sweet against your skin, his eyes locking with yours through the haze of pleasure, absolutely devoted. You reached down to touch his face, carefully avoiding his hair; the golden Fire Lord crown was still pinned into his formal topknot, holding the half-updo required for the gala you’d just escaped.

Seeing how desperate you were becoming, Zuko suddenly pulled away and straightened up.

“What…?” you pleaded, already missing the heat of him.

“You forget,” he said, a smirk pulling at his lips. “If you want something, all you have to do is ask.”

He reached up, unclasping the Fire Lord crown and pulling the gold pin from his topknot, letting his dark hair fall loose around his shoulders. He shed the heavy red tunic of his state attire, tossing it aside to reveal just his dark under shirt and loose trousers, his cloth belt already untied.

“Wouldn’t want anything getting in the way of the Fire Lady.”

“In that case, lose the shirt already,” you panted, propping yourself up on your forearms. “Oh, maybe that could be the signal. You fixing your collar or undoing a button…”

“I don't think you'd notice that from across a crowded banquet hall,” he teased, unbuttoning his shirt. “Unless you’re always watching me?”

You slid a hand down and circled your own clit a few times under his gaze, making a deep flush creep up his neck to his cheeks.

“I am always watching you, Zu.”

“We wouldn’t even be in this room if it weren’t for my discreet whispers in your ear between greeting dignitaries,” he murmured, leaning down to press a single peck to your clit. “But keep brainstorming…”

He took his shirt off, dropping it somewhere in the study alongside the rest of his discarded attire, and stepped right back into position between your thighs.

The light of the moon, streaming through the grand window behind him, illuminated the flex of his broad, muscular back, highlighting the faint battle scars across his skin as he leaned over you.

His mouth resumed its wicked attack. Without the crown in the way, you finally held Zuko close, burying your fingers deep into his hair.

“Zu—Spirits! Don't stop…”

You pulled his head even closer, rolling your hips into every stroke of his tongue until you were unraveled. The climax hit you hard, shattering your composure as you cried out his name into the empty study.

With a final and lingering kiss to your belly button, Zuko worked his way back up your body, capturing your gasps in a tasting kiss as your high slowly began to settle.

Your hand cupped his cheek, breathless. “I really think now we should—oh!”

Without a word of warning, Zuko scooped you effortlessly off the desk. You wrapped your legs tightly around his waist and hooked your arms over his shoulders, the remnants of your formal dress draping over his forearms.

“Maybe you could just shout,” he suggested, carrying you across the room.

You laughed. “I don’t think screaming your name is very discreet, Fire Lord,” you teased, pushing a stray lock of dark hair from his eye. “It might attract a little attention.”

“Yes, but…” He lowered you onto the plush divan in the corner of his study, his usual spot for informal tea and private council. “…it would be effective. You could just pretend you dropped something.”

You watched him kick his trousers, your eyes tracking the movement of his hands as he stroked his length.

“I drop things all the time. How would you know which stumble is a signal and which is just me being clumsy?”

“Easy,” he said, kneeling on the divan and straddling your thighs. He gave his cock a few pumps that made your mouth water. “If you drop something more than three times in five minutes, it’s definitely a signal.”

You shook your head, a smile breaking through when he leaned down to kiss you, positioning his head at your slick entrance.

“Everyone would make fun of me,” you whispered against his lips, guiding his tip to your center.

“Next thing you know, the High Council will be debating the Fire Lady's tragic lack of coordination.”

He chuckled and pushed inside you in one deep slide.

Both of your moans were muffled together as your lips locked. When he began to move, you could have sworn he was even larger than before. You were so tight around him, wringing sounds from his chest with every heavy thrust.

Zuko leaned his weight onto his hands on either side of your head, his face burying into the crook of your neck as his pace picked up. You closed your eyes, your hands gripping the skin they could find like his back and shoulders, your nails digging in hard enough to leave marks as he drove you wild.

He moved, grabbing both of your legs and hooking them over his shoulders. He thrust once, twice… so hard and so deep that a loud scream escaped your throat before you could stop it.

“Fire Lord?”

Your eyes flew open. You slammed a hand over your mouth. Zuko froze, towering over you.

Normally, if an attendant interrupted, he’d quickly bring you to a hand finish, help you smooth down your clothes, and play the stoic ruler.

Instead, his eyes locked onto yours, and he drove his hips forward in another thrust.

Your eyes squeezed shut, your hand pressing against your lips to muffle the cry that tore from your throat.

“Fire Lord, are you in there?” the attendant called out, knocking.

“Zuko,” you whimpered against your palm, “maybe we should—ah!”

Another deep roll of his hips. You bit down on your hand. Outside, the knocking stopped.

“I’m not stopping,” Zuko stated in a whisper. “Not yet.”

“… Fire Lady?” came another voice from the hallway.

Zuko kept up a merciless pace, giving you just enough time between dragging thrusts to keep from screaming aloud. The only sound in the dimly lit private study was the slap of skin against skin and the heavy sound of his breathing. The fullness of him inside you was overwhelming, to say the least.

“They’re not in there,” the first attendant's voice said.

“They’re probably in the grand kitchen. The Fire Lady mentioned wanting spiced plum cake earlier. Let’s check there..”

The footsteps faded down the corridor. With the threat gone, Zuko lost all restraint. He seized your hips with both hands, pounding into you with force, watching the exact point where his body met yours. You rolled your head back.

When he finally pulled out, he reached down and grabbed your hand, hauling you up into his lap. He caught you in a messy kiss, his hands massaging your hips with a eager heat.

“I could send an attendant to fetch you,” you panted, resting your forehead against his as you sat straddling his lap. “Something official, but not suspicious.”

He stroked your thigh, encouraging you.

You took hold of his cock, guiding him back to your slick entrance, lowering yourself down his length.

“That’s good,” he rasped, his fingers digging into your waist as you took him all the way in. “We could use a code word... Like, ‘The Fire Lord requires a delivery of fire flakes.’”

You stopped mid-motion, looking at him incredulously.

“Are you serious? I’m riding you right now and you’re thinking about snack food?”

Zuko let out a laugh, his hands urging your hips to move. You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips as you began a rolling rhythm on his lap, swallowing his groan with your mouth.

“I can’t think straight when you’re close to me,” he admitted, eyes half closed.

“That’s a bit of a problem considering we’re married,” you teased, setting a rhythm that made his head fall back against the divan. “And I happen to like being close to you. Exhibit A…”

His hands roamed over your bare skin. His heat was rising, radiating from his skin like an oven.

You picked up the pace, riding him harder, feeling the coil in your gut tighten to a snapping point.

Zuko’s hands clamped tight onto your waist, guiding your movements, his hips snapping up to meet yours.

“Spirits… right there!” you gasped, tossing your head back.

He let out a growl against your neck, his thrusts becoming erratic. The friction was electric. You came around him, your internal muscles pulsing tightly against his length, which pushed him over the edge.

With a groan, Zuko poured himself inside you. The sudden release sent a wave of heat rushing through his veins, steam rose off his shoulders and chest in the cool night air of the study.

He held you against his chest, both of your heartbeats hammering together in the quiet room as the steam dissipated, leaving you collapsed against him in blissful exhaustion.

He didn't pull away or rush to sit up. Instead, his fingers trailed lazily up and down the curve of your bare spine, pressing tender kisses to the top of your head, your temple, and finally your lips.

“You okay?” he whispered against your ear.

“More than okay,” you hummed, pressing your face into the still warm crook of his neck. “Though we’re going to be hopelessly late getting back…”

“Let them wait,” Zuko said, his smile pressing into your collarbone. He smoothed back a lock of hair from your forehead, his thumb resting on your cheekbone with an understated tenderness. “I’m in no hurry to go back out there.”

For a few quiet minutes, you stayed wrapped in each other's body. Yours naturally rocked against his in slow pulses, savoring the friction and radiant heat of him inside you, enjoying the rare stillness away from the overwhelming demands of the court.

Zuko sat up, taking your hand to help you gather your discarded robes. There was no desperate scramble at all, he helped you drape the heavy silk back over your shoulders, his fingers taking their time to tie the intricate waist sashes for you. You returned the favor, leaning in to replace the golden flame coronet into his topknot and smoothing down the structured collar of his coat.

As your fingers touched his tunic, you looked up into his eyes and double tapped the flame crest embroidered on his collar.

Zuko raised his eyebrow.

“What’s that?”

“Our signal,” you whispered, smiling with pride. “Next time we're stuck at one of these long banquets, I’ll find a way to walk past you and double tap your crest just like this. It means you have ten minutes to clear your schedule, find a private room, and wait for me.”

Zuko’s lips curved into a smirk, he reached up to cover your hand with his own, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“Consider your signal officially approved.”

Before you could kiss him again, three loud knocks rattled the doors of the study.

“Hey, guys!” Sokka’s booming voice carried right through the thick wood. “Aang’s speech went great, Katara didn’t have to freeze anyone, and I’ve successfully eaten my weight in Fire Nation food! But the delegates are asking where their hosts ran off to!”

You both looked at the door, then back at each other.

“...Unless you two are doing 'official Fire Nation business' in there? Because if you’re making me stall the Earth Kingdom council by myself, I’m drinking the rest of the good plum wine!”

Zuko closed his eyes and let out a sigh.

“We’ll be right out, Sokka!” you called back, trying to keep a laugh out of your voice.

“Take your time! Just make sure your crown isn’t crooked, Zuko!” Sokka teased, his fading footsteps echoing down the hallway alongside his triumphant laughter.

You giggled. As for Zuko, instead of pulling away, he leaned in closer.

“Ready to face the court?” he asked, his thumb trailing a path over the inside of your wrist.

You turned your head, pressing your lips in a touch right to the sharp angle of his jaw.

“Anything for you, Fire Lord.”

Zuko’s breath hitched. His gaze dropped to your mouth.

“Is it too soon for you to tap my crest?”

note: hii!! sorry for going mia 🫶 i’ve been busy as usual, and on top of that i’ve had a lot of family events lately. i wanted to post this as a little thank you for being so patient while i disappeared.

next up will be the too little too late-inspired one shot, which i’m super excited about!! hope you liked this one! thank you so much for reading and for all your support. xx

“Absolutely not.” 

You were taken aback by Katara’s ease to reject the Firelord. In the safety of your bed, blanket over your body with no real way to show anything of you, your anxiety still hiked. Here you were, just leaving your state of comatose, your body having not been off the bed in days. But, even you didn’t know how to feel with Zuko just a door away from you. 

“Katara,” Zuko’s voice lowers, as it's been since before your temporary absence. You could still never get used to it. “I was not asking you; I’m telling you that I need to see her.”

“And you will,” Katara replies, her words shaky against the door. She was not scared of Zuko– he was practically made of sugar. But she knew her friend was not completely all there. He was trapped in this cage, unable to reconnect with his sanity. “Just… not right now.” 

Zuko’s patience couldn’t wear thinner, “Katara, I do not want to yell. It is still early, and I do not want to wake her, but if I must–” 

“She’s awake,” Katara interjects. She was quickly met with silence, her hands pressing softly into the door. She knew her friend was practically at wits end with the relentless desire to see you, but even she knew better. You needed time, and even the Firelord must respect that. “But, she is not ready.” 

“Katara,” her name never sounded more sinister. He was not so much angry with her, but rather the fact that he knew he could not see you just yet. You have just woken, and you needed the space to continue your healing. But, his feelings also could not be waived away. 

“At this rate, you will not get to see her,” Katara stood her ground, “and you’ll wear my name out.” 

An unpleasant sigh sounded from behind the door, “y/n, I know you hear me.” That familiar, warm voice. The tone was distorted, given Zuko’s mood, but it was still him. He completely surpassed Katara’s words and any attempt to ease the tension. “Can I please come in?” 

It was truly hard to deny this man. After you’ve been dormant for a week, you couldn’t deny that you wanted to see him as well. It was mostly a feeling of debt, as he willingly changed law to fight for you. You owed him, and you knew that good and well. 

But even so, you were not prepared to actually meet eyes with the man. Your bed head was evidently felt, your body was still not completely in your control, and you were still extremely groggy. What right did you have to present yourself like this to the Firelord? 

“Zuko, she’s not ready at all,” Katara spoke softly, her empathy extending to her friend through the holes of the door. “I urge you to just wait a little longer…” 

He was stifling something, you could tell with the way his breath hitched. Even Katara was unsure what Zuko would do, considering how much she’s had him wait. And as forbearing as he could be, this was a unique case where his patience was not agreeable. 

“y/n, I’m here,” he says quietly against the door, addressing you directly. You see the door lean in a bit, pressing against the end of the doorframe. “I know you’ve just woken up, but I just… it’d be enough to just look at you. Or hear your voice… anything, please.” 

Katara looks back at you, reading your expression like it was a world wander. Just a door had been keeping you apart, and she was not sure if it would hold out for long. She had never quite seen her friend like this, and she lamented even delaying your meeting. But, she feared that you might get overwhelmed with feeling, and likely will go back to your comatose. 

But, giving Zuko such a reason might just be the end of him. 

“Zuko, I just think that–” Katara tries but you stop her. Your hand was raised, pausing her from letting out anything more. You clear your throat just a bit, hoping your voice will just let you have this moment. 

You hesitate, your face of a cherry before you speak, “g-give me a little time,” you say softly. “I… am not clothed as I intended to bathe… but should my Lord need to see me now, I will reveal myself to you.” Not your proudest moment, but what else could you do? 

Katara immediately placed her hand over her lips, suppressing all laughter boiling in her throat. With her other hand, she wiggled her thumbs up towards you. You had Zuko gagged, his only immediate response being an awkward cough. 

You gesture at the door to Katara, and she quickly catches on. She pretends to start trying to open it, in which Zuko leaned all his weight to keep the door shut, “n-no, that is not necessary–!” 

A mischievous smile was carved on your lips, albeit your flushed face, “but my Lord–” 

“Take your time,” Zuko urges, suddenly having a ‘change of heart.’ He quickly leans off the door, clearing his throat once more. “It’s enough… I will wait.” 

He was behaving like a pet, and you couldn’t help but pout for him. There was a sense of longing that you didn’t want to credit it as delusion. But with his words and behavior, you were certain there was something there. But for now, you could not give that thought any more power. 

Katara gave you one last thumbs up before whispering, “you’ve tamed the beast.” You silently giggle, the both of you humored by your quick thinking. She then walked up to you, the air returning back to its serious nature. “But, I hope you know that if you are not ready, you do not have to go out there and see him. You are allowed to take your time.” 

You nodded, “I know that.” You look into her eyes, and she could note the affection in her eyes. “But, I’d like to see him as well.” 

She smiles widely, understanding that this is where your true desires lie. She offers you both hands, “then let’s make it worth the wait, hm?” 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ 

Aang and Sokka were confident that Zuko might just lose his mind after all. 

He long dismissed the guards that were usually tasked outside your door. Aang knew he was extremely anxious, and did not want to further put his feelings on his men who did nothing wrong. And hilarious enough, this had been the best he saw him, considering he was able to hear your voice again. 

Aang joins him on the ground, the two seated on the cold floor of the Palace. Sokka joins, tossing his weapon to the side, his legs spread out and away from one another. They both look at each other hesitantly, noticing their friend had his eyes fixed on your door, as if the fear is that it would disappear. 

“Zuko, she’s awake,” Aang reminds him quietly, awkwardly scratching the back of his bare head. “You do not have to worry anymore. She is okay.” 

Sokka nudges him gently, careful not to mess with his posture, “you know my sister would never fail you.” 

Zuko lied. Your voice truly was not enough. His friend's words were not enough. He wanted to see you, to be in your presence, to share your air. It was an itch, something so foreign to his palette of feeling. 

His anxiety did not leave. Rather, it shifted its priority. His long, relentless nerves on your comatose state have gone, and now been replaced with actually seeing you after so many days. A week felt like an eternity, and he feels uncertain of how he will react around you now. 

What should he even say? One apology would be unacceptable to his standards, but he cannot spend days doing so either (despite his willingness to do so). How could he face you, knowing the trauma you have endured in his nation? Will he even be able to stand after getting one look at your face and those beautiful, deep eyes? 

He was a weak man, that much he knew. 

In the midst of their awkward silence, Toph had joined the space, strolling down the vacant corridor. Sokka was the first to fill it in, “you’re late to the party.” 

Toph smirks before joining them all on the ground. It was a weird, silent agreement that Zuko appreciated, though it was not on his mind to let out those thoughts. He felt her take her seat beside Sokka, purposely bending one of his elbows to disrupt his leaning posture. “I figured you’d all get here before me. I wanted no part in whatever went on last night.” 

Sokka remained on the floor, annoyed but not quite enough to say anything about it, “you sure have a lot of trust in the rest of us. What if something bad happened?” 

“The Avatar and the Firelord are here,” Toph hums simply, “what is there to fear?” 

“I was here too!” Sokka exclaims, sitting up again to contest his friend. 

“Really?” She questions curiously, squinting her eyes towards his direction. “I didn’t see you.” 

“You weren’t even there!” Sokka yells. 

Aang chuckles, earning a toothy grin from Toph. But he quickly prioritized and gave his glance back to Zuko. “y/n is awake now,” Aang informs Toph, with her nodding intently. “We are waiting for her to come out.” 

Toph stays silent before she looks towards Zuko’s direction, “you don’t seem excited.” 

Zuko breaks his gaze at your door and looks down at his lap. He begins to fiddle with his hands, his fingers swirling around one another. He was antsy, “it’s not that I am not excited… I just want to ask you all a favor without it seeming rude.” 

Sokka was the first to ease him, “we’re friends, Zuko. Remember that friends help other friends out– that’s kinda the whole point.” 

Aang nods, “we can’t take offense, especially considering how kindly you always treat us when we come to visit.” 

“And you have no idea how grateful I am for your arrival,” Zuko reiterates, his hands now holding each other. His grip tightens as his fingers weave together. “But, I fear that it might be overwhelming for her to meet you all right at this moment.” 

The three of them stayed silent. As much as they were anticipating finally meeting the source of Zuko’s angst, they couldn’t argue with his point. Especially Aang, who was, quite literally, the Avatar. “...fine,” Sokka accepted stubbornly, his arms crossed above his chest. “But, you have to let us meet her before we leave.” 

This alerted Zuko, turning over to Sokka with curious eyes, “when do you all plan to go?” 

Aang let out a sigh, “it won’t be for long, but we have to head down to the Southern Water Tribe to pick up some things for the wedding. I don’t imagine we’ll be gone longer than 5 days, or less so if Appa is incentivized again.” His words followed a glare towards Sokka, who put his hands up. 

“In my defense, we got here pretty quickly,” Sokka immediately inserted. “Plus, we need to pick up our father and Suki.” 

“Suki is down there?” Zuko questions. 

Sokka nods, “she’s been spending a lot of time with the tribe and learning the culture. I warned her about how chilly it was going to be, but my father prepared her with a parka.” 

“She’s better than me,” Toph inputs quickly, “it’s too cold, there’s no rocks, and I hate fish.”  She then leans over to reach Zuko’s knee and gives it a gentle pat. “Don’t be too excited, you might end up scaring her as well.” 

Zuko was confused at her words, but Aang didn’t want to burst his bubble. “You guys go ahead. I’m going to hang back and hide.” 

“And how come you get to stay?” Sokka’s words were dripping with envy, his pointed finger jabbing in the air. 

“Because,” Aang began, leaning in a bit, “I want to get my soon-to-be wife back.” His lips had a warm smile, and Zuko could tell that he was very excited to spend time with Katara again. He did feel bad to ask such a heavy favor from her, but what else should he have done? 

Sokka and Toph both roll their eyes before getting back on their feet. Sokka quickly swoops down to grab his sword as well. The two then yawn, reminding Zuko just how early it was. He was so, so lucky to have the friends he did, who also woke up at such an early time just to support him in whatever he needed. 

“I’ll get ready for breakfast,” Toph hums, walking slump while leaning against Sokka’s side. “Start standing up,” she warns Zuko, who always trusts her word and begins to rise to his feet. “I feel something by the door.” 

Sokka glances back curiously but Toph quickly holds his arm and begins to drag him away. “I just want a peek–!” 

Toph holds his forearm tightly, to Sokka’s dismay. She glances back at Zuko and Aang’s direction and gives them a smile, “good luck, the both of you!” 

With the two of them gone, a more serious air takes over. 

Aang quickly takes his place beside Zuko as the two stand before the door. A shaky, streaky sigh emits from Zuko’s lips, and he was suddenly insecure about his stance. Aang watches him shift in his place, unable to keep himself still. He quickly latches his hand onto Zuko’s forearm and stills him. 

“Hey,” Aang quietly coos, “you’ve been waiting for this. It’s going to be fine.” 

Zuko was practically trembling, Aang felt his shakiness in his own hand. “I just… I want to see her, but…” 

“But…?” Aang repeats, curious to his sudden opposition. 

“I fear she will be disappointed,” Zuko hums quietly, his eyes now everywhere else but the door he had been fixed on just moments ago. “I fear that perhaps… I am forcing her because I want to see her.” 

Aang brings his hand to his back and begins to pat it, “she wants to see you, too. She would not have responded to your request and spoken if she did not want to see you.” 

This sense of unease that always knew how to crawl back in had made itself known to Zuko once more. It was like an unrelenting disease, its volcanic behavior erupting and dormanting as it pleases. He couldn’t help but latch onto the one possibility (of multiple) that you might not be eager to see him. 

“...and if she does not?” Zuko asks, his voice so hush that it fears itself being too loud. 

Aang looks back at the door, smiling curtly, “then we try again later.” He then moves away from viewpoint and quickly knocks on the door. Zuko’s eyes burn into the Avatar, with Aang just offering a sly smile. 

“What are you doing?” Zuko whispers aggressively. 

“I’m the Avatar,” Aang informs him quietly, earning a scoff immediately after, “she might go unconscious again if she sees me.” Although Zuko appreciated his consideration, it made his anxiety just a smidge worse. 

Then, Katara sounded from behind the door, “coming!” 

Finally, all of Zuko’s nerves finally tipped, and poured out the overflowing cup of his emotions. He couldn’t delay anything– not that he wanted to. But his nerves were so apparent that he might as well be dressed in them. Aang saw it and could only hope that his presence nearby could soothe some of the load on his shoulders. 

But time was not on Zuko’s side. The door opens, and he almost instinctively shuts his eyes. But he kept them open, and met the warmth of his good friend. Katara’s expression was scheming, further confusing and worrying Zuko. “y/n told me to tell you that you can come in now,” Katara says softly. 

Immediately, Zuko stepped forward and embraced her. She could feel his tremble, and suddenly her eyes went stoic. “Thank you, Katara,” he rasped, his voice as quiet as the space in the corridor. She nods, slowly returning the embrace. 

“Anytime, Zuko,” she whispers back, giving him a tight squeeze before pulling away. She takes his hands into hers, and gives them a little squeeze as well. “Good luck,” she hums playfully, further amused by Zuko’s perplexed expression. 

She walks past him, looking back as he hesitantly enters, before shutting the door behind him. As she stands there, Aang quickly sneaks up behind her and scoops her up into his arms. The familiar arms and scent of honey swallowed her whole. Her eyes gazed down at those teal arrows, ending at her favorite, strong hands. 

“I missed you,” Aang whispers in her ear, his large frame eating hers in their shared shadow. “So, so much.” 

She wraps her arms around his forearms, feeling his hold on her tighten in the process. Katara giggles, her blue eyes warmly fixed their shadows. “Now you know how I feel whenever the world needs you,” she says jovially. “I missed you too, sky boy.” 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ 

The door shuts behind Zuko, and suddenly you both are in another dimension. 

Zuko waits at the door, his hands firmly pressed against it. Your eyes were locked to his long, unkempt hair. The charcoal dark strands poured down like a waterfall, with a few strays sticking out ornately. He was much taller than you remembered, though you could be making that up. But somehow… he just took up so much space in your room. 

Neither of you said a word, and that awkwardness that you were dreading began to take over. It seemed that getting ready truly could not prepare you for this, regardless of how much time you could have spent. 

But Zuko was the first to cut the tension with a dry cough. He clears his throat, his back still to you, “...hey.” 

“Hi,” you respond back, practically scripted. 

He sniffles, clearing his throat once more. He lets go of the door, allowing his hands to slide off slowly, removing his mental crutches in the process. “May I look at you?” He asks for permission, his voice so feeble and sweet. 

You smile warmly, “you may.” 

He finally turns to face you, and your smile quickly leaves. Not because you were not happy to see him, but you lamented to see his current face. Dark eyes, slightly sunken cheeks, and skin that you could only describe as moon-kissed. He was pale, and exhausted, almost as if it was him who was in comatose. 

“y/n,” he says your name with the utmost warmth. You noticed his lips were slightly chapped, but your name left his mouth so easily. 

He gets closer to you, where you lay on your bed. Though you had more control of your body, you could not quite stand on your own. So, Zuko takes it upon himself to be the one to close the distance between you two. But even so, he kept a considerable amount of space between you both, reluctant to go further. 

Those honey eyes could eat you with the way he stared you down. It was joy mixed with something you could not make out. But suddenly, Zuko felt like a leaf in your presence, so light that he could be whisked away by the wind with no means of return. He keeps his distance, reaching his hand out to you slowly. 

Without hesitation, you place your hand into his, taking lead in touching those familiar, rough callouses. But, they felt just a little rougher, your nails occasionally grazing it to feel the thin ridges of his skin. He couldn’t help but stay silent, not wanting to stop you from your venture on his hand. 

You would steal glances up at him, noticing the way he was so mesmerized by your touch. Each time you dedicated the tip of your index to each one of his mountain-like callouses, circling around them gently. His bottom lip hung just a bit, as if he turned off his mind to enjoy this tranquil moment with you. 

Unfortunately, you were the first to break it, “sorry… ‘m just very surprised…” 

“Hm?” He hummed quietly, his eyes darting at your face. You could feel his stare, but you kept away from looking at his eyes. You feared becoming flustered and not being able to speak at all. 

“That you’re real,” you say quietly, “and you’re here, in front of me.” 

Zuko chuckles, his lips curving into a wide smile. With a toothy grin, he responds, “how do you think I feel?” 

You look up at him, no longer fearing those dewy eyes. They looked so full, despite his exhaustion. He looked so much warmer, so relieved, and so much more at ease. Unbeknownst to you, all the uneasiness in his body completely left him. He noticed your hand flinch a bit, reading your eyes and your desire to do something else. 

Without another thought, Zuko uses his other hand to take hold of your hand. You were stunned, but you allowed him to lift it up and bring it to his face. Your fingers felt so soft and warm, so fitting on his face as he pressed them against his cheek. 

His face was flush, his pupils so dilated, and so fixed on you. His cheek was pushed up a bit in your hand, his scarred eye squinting a little more. You were hesitant, unsure if you should be touching your boss like this. But you had already been touching his hand with a sensuality that you should not have, considering your relationship. 

Zuko was just too good at letting you break boundaries like this. Your thumb begins to move, gently rubbing the space underneath his eye. At a first glance, you would not notice anything else besides that scar of his. But as you were here, in this moment with him, you noticed the different severity spots of his wound, the pale red and deep red working in tandem to showcase his trauma. 

But he was so sweet. You could not imagine anyone wanting to hurt such a kind, gentle man. In this moment, he was melting in your hold, his eyes fluttering close every few moments. Zuko was still tired, considering how early he came knocking at your door. But you could not find any note of regret on his face. 

“Come,” you wake him out of his trance, gesturing to the space on the bed beside you, “sit down and rest.” 

Zuko happily takes your offer, keeping your hand against his cheek with his own. He slowly takes a seat, careful not to sit on your or ruin your comfort. “Is this okay?” He asks quietly, his body tense once more. 

“It’s perfect,” you coo, pulling at your sheets and quilts to flatten them. You did not want any blanket bumps to bother him as he sat in your bed. 

He leaned towards you a bit more, craning his neck. He didn’t want to force you to lean in to keep your hand on his face, so he shuffled a bit closer to you as well. It was like having a pup, seeing Zuko so eagerly wanting to keep your touch on him. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he hums, opening his eyes to look into yours. His gaze practically burnt into you, straight through your sight and into your core. If he could, he’d have the right access to read you like a book. “I… I am so fucking sorry.” 

Your eyes widened, surprised at his profanity, “wh-what? Why do you apologize?” 

“I neglected your well-being when that should have been my only priority,” he spewed out so quickly. It was like these words had been long sitting on his tongue, eagerly waiting to be given to you. “I should have just sent Indra to rot in prison immediately, not challenge him to a duel that I banned for a reason.” 

You couldn't believe your ears. The very man who saved your life, preserved your dignity, and fought in your honor was apologizing to you for doing the very things. You slide your thumb down, pressing down at his lips with your diagonal digit. 

“Zuko, you saved me,” you insist quietly, softly denting his lips to keep him from potentially interrupting you. “My body was safe and taken care of. And I’ve caught up from all the years of lost slumber.” 

Zuko smiled at your sudden joke, snorting quietly, “this is no time to be silly– I’m serious.” His hot breath tickles under your thumb when he speaks. 

“I hear you,” you insisted, nodding at his words, “but there is nothing to forgive as there is nothing to apologize for. In fact,” you change the narrative, “I should be thanking you for being my hero.” 

Zuko shook his head, “you’ve thanked me enough when really, I should be thanking you.” 

“For what exactly?” You leer curiously at him. 

The Firelord smirks before rubbing his face into your hand a little more. “I’ll tell ya one of these days.” You feel your cheeks grow hot, watching as he practically melts his face into your hand. 

“H-hey, that tickles,” you hum, feeling the way his nose rubbed against your palm. “Zuko, you shouldn’t be– ah!” You gasped, realizing you had been just a bit too comfortable in your speech. “I mean, L-Lord Zuko…– ‘m so sorry for not addressing you properly…” 

Zuko raises his eyebrow, pulling away your hand from his face. But he keeps it held, not allowing you to retract yourself in embarrassment or shame. “y/n, correct me if I’m wrong, but I do believe our relationship has changed.” 

You stiffen, unsure how to take his words. Sure, you two were close, and did things that a typical lord/attendant duo should not be doing. But, it was platonic and innocent. At least, you thought so. “...but you are still the Firelord. I cannot disrespect you like this.” 

He quickly gives your hand a squeeze before lowering his head. He gestures to the top of it, noting the absence of his crown. “Can you truly address me like that without my crown?” He jokes. 

You initially giggle before your body goes cold. You rip your hand out of his hold and immediately begin to look around your bed. Zuko watches as you frantically pat around your sheets, pushing your body more than you should in search of something. The crown, the one he had entrusted you with prior to his Agni Kai. 

“y/n, what’s wrong?” He quickly asks, worried about your sudden movements and pale skin. 

“Your crown,” you let out with a huff, “I-I had it in my arms, b-but I know I passed out. Gods, did I drop it somewhere…?” You trail off and whisper to yourself, your eyes beginning to well up in tears. “I’ve lost it, didn’t I…?” 

Zuko watched as your tears did not give him the stage to waive your worry. They dragged down your red cheeks, your face suddenly hollow from your once fuller expression. It broke him to see you so broken, and how quick you were able to just break down. 

“y/n,” Zuko rasped, doing his best not to feel emotional from your own emotions. To think a woman like you would cry for something so insignificant like his crown. “You brought it back. It is here, in the Palace.” 

You stop your search, looking back at him. There was hopefulness developing in your tearful glance, and you desperately wiped your face with your forearms. “It-it’s here? It’s not l-lost?” You stammer. 

Zuko nods, chuckling a bit, “you need to remember just how impressive you are. Katara found you tightly hugging it.” You look away from him, recollecting yourself after your curt emotional burst. He tries to make you feel less shy and embarrassed, regardless how little fruit it bore, “thank you very much for bringing it back to me safely.” 

You roll your eyes, your hand subconsciously offering itself to Zuko once more. He takes it, turning it upside down so your palm is exposed to him. With his free hand, he takes hold of your hand, his thumb sliding onto your palm. “I wouldn't have brought it back safely without you, so the credit cannot be entirely mine…” 

His thumb rubs your palm, denting into your soft, supple flesh. “Even so, I could not give less of a damn about that crown. You’re here, back to me.” 

Your cheeks remained hot, unable to fathom Zuko’s sudden need to touch and his alluring words. “I had no plans to go elsewhere,” you whispered, watching wondrously at the way the Firelord touched your hand. He treated it as if it were gold, like he’s struck riches unseen by man. “This is my home… no matter what, all my roads lead back here.” 

He glances up at you, his hair practically covering your forearm. “Promise?” He asks cutely, his pinkly curling around your own. You giggle, tightening your own pinky around him. “Even if…” he begins quietly, his lighthearted tone vanishing, “...even if a lord were to court you?” 

You look into his honey eyes, and realize something. The very thing you could not pin point– you were almost a little too sure now of what it was. Because, the way he was staring at you, the way his voice was so pulling, and how desperate he was to know you were okay, was anything but platonic. 

Sure, a lord values their attendant(s), and it is their responsibility to keep them safe. But now, in this moment with Zuko, you were sure that he held an affection for you that surpassed its original chaste nature. And you didn’t want to be wrong, but your feelings could also no longer be repressed. 

“There is only one man who I’d let court me,” you say quietly, your words bold. You could feel your heart ready to rip out of your chest, your body going cold. Zuko noticed it, the way your hand was suddenly like ice. “And… he currently holds my hand.” 

Zuko could only stare at you, hanging onto your words. You couldn’t be sincere, you mustn’t be. As Katara said, you were not ready, and likely not completely all there. Maybe it was hysteria, or heightened emotional drive from your recently dormant state. But, he couldn’t help but clutch tightly to your words. 

But a response did not follow. You stood there, your confession in the air, dangling around his perfect head. Honey eyes were soft, but his touch on you halted. He did not let go either, sending you all sorts of mixed signals. 

“This is your home,” Zuko then says, his hand still holding yours. It’s suddenly cold as well, both hands cool and clammy from shared nerves. You could feel a disconnect, but you could not allow your emotions to keep fronting you. “I will not permit you to be courted, if being courted is not what you seek. You are welcome to stay here forever.” 

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“Don’t,” you warned Zuko gently, your scowl earning an amused chuckle from the Firelord himself. You had just handed him a cup of freshly brewed tea, the steam making it clear just how hot it was. And there was Zuko, bringing the very cup to his lips moments after handing it to him. 

Zuko glanced up at you, the ends of his lips curling into a roguish smirk, “think I’m scared of a little heat?” He puts the cup down on his work desk, suddenly feeling playful, “should the Firelord fear hot tea?” 

You looked down at him, knowing he had been trying to annoy you. You accepted the challenge and gestured to the tea, “enjoy, Firelord Zuko.” 

He quickly takes hold of the cup again, per your annoyed motion. And as he takes a reticent sip, you see him quickly pull back and grimace. “Sai– what did you make this tea from? Magma?” He gently puts the cup down again before bringing his sleeve to his mouth. 

“What?” You feigned innocence, making your eyes orby while looking down at his despair. “Was your hot leaf juice too hot?” 

He rolled his eyes, patting his lips with the tips of his fingers, “you like messing with me?” Those browned honey eyes, encapsulated completely with warmth and allure. You were like a bee, unable to keep from such a saccharine sweet look. “You’re very brave, considering who you’re messin’ with,” his tone shifted, a sort of rasp that threatened to swallow you whole. 

You met his eyes, and suddenly felt stuck in his gaze. Warm skin brightened at your sight, his eyebrows lowered, his lips now flush from the heat of the tea. His hair, even after you doing it, had a few strands sticking out, sticking onto his forehead and cheekbones. There was something in his stare– a sort of longing that’s foreign to his usual gaze. 

“I miss you,” he says quietly, refusing to break contact. Taken aback by his words, you take a step behind, cheeks going completely hot. Your breathing stuttered even, earning another heart wrenching chuckle from him. 

“I– Lord Zuko, what are you talking about?” You fume, struggling to get your thoughts out. “You… we’ve been together all morning. I did your hair, remember? H-how would you even miss me?” 

Zuko only stares at you, melting you further. He stood up, and slowly walked up to you. The shadow made by his tall being swallowed you entirely, your nerves ascending like lava from a dormant volcano. His hands made their way to your shoulders, keeping you from being able to escape. 

He was so close. His body emanated that smell of mint that was impossible to dislike. Callouses rubbed against your supple skin, sending shivers all about your arms. The way his fingertips dented into you gently, not so much worried that you would pull away but rather repressing his own desire to do more. 

Then, he begins to pull you into him. It was slow yet sudden, your eyes wider, and brighter than the moon. Your cheek clashed against the softness of his linens, cushioning the broadness of his chest. You didn’t pull away, but you were as stiff as stone against his body. “H-hey– m-my Lord–!” 

Those calloused hands snaked to the back of your shoulders, fingertips easing their way towards the scapula of your back. Your heart rate hiked, but no longer just of anticipation. There was a sudden anxiety, as if he was inching closer to a secret you did not realize you were hiding. “Zuko, don’t–!” 

Fingertips reach your spine. It didn’t feel hot– it was hot. Your back burned with a familiar sear that only made you want to push him to the ground. But you do not move– because this is not Zuko. It can’t be. 

They dent into your dip, a blistering feeling unlike anything you’ve felt. All fibers of your being felt like they were set ablaze, the root being Zuko’s foreign touch. But it was not exciting– it was terrifying. Not so much the feeling, but the inability to pull away from him.

What is this?

“I’m sorry.” 

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He was gone, and you were gone, too. 

The Palace, the very place you’ve come to memorize like it was your home, had vanished. Everything had gone dark, and Zuko’s absence was felt, considering how cold you suddenly were. It was terrifying to be in pitch black darkness. There was nothing to hold onto, or to run back to. 

There is no sense of security or safety in isolation. It’s especially worse when you’ve become so used to others that being on your own was a different kind of fear. It felt as if, at any point, something could happen and completely petrify you, despite it being well intended. 

But what could you do? Your body felt non-existent. No voice to scream, no hands to reach out. Not that you could reach out to anything, considering the nothing you’ve been subjected to. Not even your mind could bring about an ember, considering your lack of limbs on top of your lack of ability. 

All you could think about was him. 

The way he was always so gentle with you. How he would wait for you oh so patiently during the final hours of night every day, just to welcome the first minutes of daylight with you. The way he sat so still when you did his hair, as if one move would completely leave him with a horrid do. And despite his bad acting, he could never truly conceal his anticipation when you prepared his cups of tea. 

Zuko was a gem, a man beyond worthy of his title. 

And now he was elsewhere, and you were nowhere. What were you to make of your situation? Perhaps you deserved it, considering your treacherous thoughts and feelings for the Firelord. And how could you want those things, when you have forced his hand on matters that did not need to be escalated. 

Perhaps Lady Minji had the right idea. 

To be rid of you, and allow Zuko to continue on as the mighty Firelord, the man who reformed the Fire Nation and helped bring about peace to the world. He should not be weighed down by a commoner, a woman whose hands were only good to brew tea and brush hair. 

Your head began to throb, with your heart beat making your head burst at every beat. You didn’t think much of it, if the feeling didn’t start spreading all over. Despite your nothing state, you felt hot– a sort of scalding hot, like the world was stripped of wind. It was making you feel choked– like air was seized from you. 

Why? 

What is this? 

Then, you finally felt it. Your eyelids twitched, wiggling desperately to be opened. Your head was still aching, more so with sound now entering your ears. You could… hear. These whispers, sounds of a creaking mattress entering your space. Despite these usually quiet things, they felt so loud for you. 

You didn’t know what to expect when your eyes forced itself into view. 

You were met with a blurred scene, unable to make out any of the smushed colors in front of you. But, you were certain you had been looking up at the ceiling, considering you felt your back firmly against something (assuming it was your own bed). Blinking felt like a task, as you did it continuously until your sight had cleared and defined your vision. 

But your head was too heavy to even move. You could only rely on your eyes, which burned when they flickered every which way. You searched around, trying to grasp a better understanding of your surroundings. The inability to move began to stress you out, but you accepted that you could only do so much. 

Then, the familiar clatter of porcelain. They shook stiffly on a metal tray, you knew the sounds too well. They only connected to your most precious memories, earning smiles through cups of carefully crafted tisane. But, it was strange. 

With the assumption that you were in your quarters, you should not be served tea. In fact, you are the server of tea usually. That only worsened your suspicions. 

You were not alone. 

You close your eyes once more, attempting to ignore the scorching pain of your head to focus on moving your body. At least muster any power and effort into sitting your head up was considered a win for you. Allowing yourself a few minutes of concentration, you once again open your eyes. 

It was a struggle, yes, but you managed to lift your aggravated head, barely a tilt but just enough. That’s when your sight met with a man. Your conscious, rational mind was still booting up, and you could only think about Lord Indra. You disregarded any details, and abandoned all explanations that could be. 

Against your head's health, a scream forced its way out of your mouth. Moments ago, you lacked existence. And now here you were, using the voice you thought you had lost in the mind you were trapped in, unbeknownst to you. 

Hands quickly touched your body, and you did not have a lick of energy to keep them off. You could only scream louder, your voice quickly going out in the process. Losing your own voice, you could only pause, and shut your eyes once again. Tears were quick to well up in your eyes, and drag down your temples, and crawl into the beginnings of your hair. 

Your sobbing was quiet, but you did not lose the space of sound. The mystery hands continue to try and soothe you, with a voice you could not pin point. 

“D-don’t… touchshh–!” You whimper out, frustrated in your own lack of power. Your face became completely flushed, your head feeling closer and closer to cracking. A dizziness seeped in, and you suddenly felt overwhelmed with exhaustion once more. “...me…” your word trailed off, disappearing as fast as your last breath before returning to your unconscious state. 

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Katara already knew what she needed to do. 

Before Zuko could even get his hands on the guard, Katara unveiled her water and used it to latch onto his forearm. But, she forgot how strong Zuko was, as his force practically forced her forward. “Zuko, hold on!” She yelled, exuding all her strength to keep Zuko from pouncing on his own guard. “Just wait a damn minute!” 

Something got into him, and it completely shut down his rationality. All he could see was red, and the beginning of regaining inner serenity was staring right at him, expression intoxicated in trepidation. 

“What happened to Sai?” Zuko hissed, his aggression-filled words pouring out his gritted teeth. His unkempt hair had suddenly reflected the very sight of his sister in her final acts of insanity. He slowly inched closer and closer, with Katara desperately trying to delay him. “What the fuck did you do to her?” 

“F-F-Firelord Z-Zu…ko…!” The guard stammered, his entire body trembling while remaining where he stood. He couldn’t dare run away from the Firelord, as he would likely worsen his predicament. 

Katara continued to struggle, holding her water like two ropes while trying her damndest to keep Zuko wrangled. Blue eyes burn into Lady Kira, who fearfully stood in the doorway of your quarters. Without hesitation, Katara yells at her, “what happened here?” 

Topaz eyes lock onto Lady Kira, and she freezes. She knew better than to not answer the question, considering her fellow courtier's life was at risk. Mustering her courage, she meets Zuko’s eyes and responds faintly, “he… was assisting me in bringing in tea… in case Lady Sai were to wake.” 

Zuko narrowed his eyes on her, still dissatisfied, “guards are not to enter the quarters of any Lady or women in the Palace.” 

Lady Kira quickly responded, “I-I was overzealous and thought I could carry both the tea set and a meal… I asked him to hold the door for me while I entered her quarters… a-and I didn’t know she woke up, s-so…” 

“The first person she saw was him,” Katara finished for her. She realized that Zuko had stilled, and brought her water back to her waterskin. “Lady Sai reacted from trauma… hence her screams.” 

Zuko felt the water from Katara’s bending touch his skin as it spread around the linens of his sleeves. His heaving chest was still frantic, his heart ready to unleash the inner monster he did not realize he had. All he could think about was keeping you safe, starting with the guard and whatever could come after. Even after getting caught up, Zuko did not want to see the guard in his presence. At least, at that moment. 

Guards ran down the corridor in response to the commotion. Zuko’s hand found its way to his forehead, his annoyance and agitation increasing. Emitting a deep sigh, Zuko looks through the space between his digits and eyes the frightened guard once more. Gesturing to him, he begins quietly, “you; leave.” 

The guard immediately accepts his dismissal. He bows so low that his head almost touches the ground, “Y-yes, my Lord!” He squeaks out, taking this out contently as a few of the other guards escort him away from your quarters. As he was being escorted, the rest of Zuko’s friends had finally caught up to the scene. 

Toph was first to get close, her body long feeling the tea tray falling. Her face pointed her towards your quarters, remembering the vibrating feeling of the metal clashing with the ground. “Is everyone okay?” She asks quietly, unable to catch the tension. 

Aang and Sokka were right behind her, taking in the scene as well. The men were able to put two and two together, quickly turning around to face away from your quarters. They, too, respected Zuko’s request for men not to enter women’s quarters. 

The only current exception was the room Aang and Katara shared, albeit she had not stepped a foot inside yet. 

Aang looks over at Katara and gestures to your quarters, “is she…?” He asks quietly, hoping not to disturb you. 

Before Katara could answer, Lady Kira quickly shook her head, “she… has gone once again.” 

Zuko’s excitement was buried back to the ground. He could feel a headache from hell setting in, unsure how much more he could take without seeing you, the you before all of this. But, he accepts this defeat, his eyes meeting with the floor. “Katara, if you can,” he asks her quietly, his hands balling into fists. Even Toph could hear how strong his grip was, as his clenching was so tight, his fingernails were digging into his palms. “Please.” 

Without another word, Katara quickly rushes into your quarters, carefully avoiding the broken porcelain that was now ornate in your room. Lady Kira quickly bowed at the gentlemen outside your quarters before rushing back in. She quickly became a utility, and began cleaning the mess from the fallen tray. 

With the door shut in his face, Zuko could only let out another deep sigh. 

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A few hours passed, and Katara was exhausted. 

That being the case, she could not find herself wanting to sleep. She sat at your bedside, long hair completely loose while rubbing your forehead with a drenched cloth. The water had been imbued with a healing water bending technique, its glow subtle in the darkness of the room. 

She felt awful for everything that had been happening. Zuko and you were suffering, and she could only truly prioritize one of you. Even if she could give Zuko priority, his head has been tormenting him without permitting anything beyond a scratch of ease. 

But, she was not a God. She could not heal you to full health on her own, despite her bending. She could not take you out of your conscious state, despite wanting to see you healthy and well. She could not take away the trauma of what happened, and what started her on this journey to assist you in your healing. 

She could only do her best in what she could do. 

But, as she gently dabbed your forehead, she noticed the small, subtle twitches from your eyes. The sides of your lips winced every few seconds, having her pull her touch away from you. She silently waited, watching you with the assistance of the nights shine. It seemed that even the moon was itching for your return to the conscious world. 

Katara snaked her hand into your own, mouthing silent prayers for you to react to her touch. And then it happened: you took hold of her fingers. A weak squeeze, a small sliver of hope. She waited patiently, giving you the space you needed to regain your consciousness. 

And just like that; you woke. 

It took you a few minutes, and you accepted that the stranger in your bedroom was a friend, not a foe. Katara carefully moved a few cushions and pillows behind your back, giving you the right support to sit up. You were reticent but accepted her help, as her strong forearm gave you the right grip to adjust your body. 

You mutter a quiet thank you as you get used to sitting up. Your head still felt heavy, but the headache that once threatened to split your skull was long gone. There was a chilling feeling on your forehead, but it was quickly replaced with a warm wetness. You look over to notice that it was this stranger, who was water bending a sort of special water on your head. 

Before you attempted to speak, Katara quickly answered your initial, mental questions, “I’m Katara.” She did not need to say anything more, for you also quickly learned that she was a water bender. A good one too, based on how calm your head felt.

You could only look at her, as if she was a Goddess, “you are so kind…” you barely let out, your voice still not quite there. “Thank you… so much…” You tried to offer your hand, but your body was uncooperative. “y/n,” you weakly let out, introducing yourself. She smiles warmly and nods. 

Even in the night so dim, you could appreciate the very lady before you. Mocha skin, smooth and supple from even just the look. Long, voluptuous hair that poured down her shoulders and contested the length of her torso. Blue eyes that held the many bodies of water that this planet could barely explain. She was the sort of enigma that, for the moment, you welcomed. 

“I know you have been sleeping, but try not to do too much,” Katara instructed, removing the water she had been using to ease your head. You lamented its absence, but you couldn’t deny how much better you felt. “I have some tea for you, if you’d lik–” 

“Yes,” you quickly whisper, your voice weak but your want high. “Spirits, yes.” You patiently waited, weakly reaching out to the teacup with trembling hands. 

She brings the cup close to your face, “you’re still too weak. I don’t want you to accidentally drop it on yourself, so let me help you…” 

It was embarrassing really. A stranger who seemed to have nursed you to health was now assisting you in drinking a cup of tea. Something you have been doing practically since the womb. And yet here you were, your body a tool while this kind woman, Katara, was assisting you in enjoying something as simple as drinking tea. The soothing warmth of the scalding water relieved some tension in your throat. 

She puts the cup down upon your satisfaction, and offers her forearms so you could sit up. You could tell she was strong, not just from her bending abilities but from how tough her forearms felt. After your adjustments, you were able to finally crane your neck, stretching out as much stiffness as possible. 

You began working on moving your arms, too. It wasn’t great seeing them, the way your skin had thinned and exposed the bones you’ve never seen so defined before. Even your fingers highlighted your knuckles and the very structure that helped your body move. It was disturbing, but what could be done? 

“I know it's quite late,” Katara began, before stifling a chuckle, “well, I guess early now. But, I brought you a meal if you are willing to try and eat some of it.” Your eyes flicker to the window, watching as the moon begins its slow descent to the other half of the world. “I do warn you; it’s cold.” 

You hesitated for a moment before curiosity took over, “what do you have?” You barely let out. 

And there you were, with Katara’s patience appearing boundless as she slowly fed you. It was a humble meal; rice with a slab of meat and peas. But, it did the job, and your stomach immediately growled with glee from the first bite. She did stop you from eating too much, considering you hadn’t eaten for a while. That’s when you realized something grave. 

“How long?” You asked Katara, curious as to the amount of time you were gone. Katara looked at you woefully, her eyes grimacing at the thought. 

“It’s been 7 days,” Katara responded quietly, her head nodding along her words. She gives you a small smile, “but, having your body rest so much made your wound heal very quickly.” 

That was when you realized the absence of pain that once resided behind you. It was like a sudden transformation. You forced your effort, your arms exerting themselves to reach your back and rub where your pain would be. And, there was nothing. At least, in terms of feeling. 

“I…” you began, your lip already ahead of your emotions as it quivered. The geyser of your feelings erupted, and you felt tears slide down your cheeks. You were brought back to that day, and then pulled right back to here, in this moment, in the safety of your room, being nursed by a kind bender. “I… I don’t… I didn’t mean for all this to…” 

“One thing at a time,” Katara interrupted you, handing you a dry cloth to wipe your face. You were grateful for her generosity, attempting to calm down so the tears could be obsolete. “Everything that happened to you was not your fault. That man is not a man; he’s a coward.” 

Your eyes dimmed, looking down at your hands. Before you had gone unconscious, you remember most of the Agni Kai that Zuko had long abolished. You recall Lord Indra attempting to be sly with the Firelord, being cheeky with movement to try and one-up him. It made your blood boil, despite its current feeble state. 

“Is he… um,” you ask timidly, unsure if you truly want to know the well being of Lord Indra. 

Katara nodded, “Indra has been imprisoned under the charges of treachery and assault of a Fire Nation Palace personnel.” You blinked a few times, looking up at her in surprise. Of course, you were happy to hear that he was not doing well, and in fact being punished for his crime. But, his list of crimes sounded like he won’t be seeing anything outside of his cell ever again. “His clan has been informed, and they are in deliberation to promote someone else to take his place.” 

You nodded, “I see.” 

Then, Katara placed her hand on yours, cupping them just a bit to attempt to ease your tremors. “As for Zuko…” she begins, earning a jump from you. She smiled amusingly, anticipating that you’d react in such a way from hearing his name. And you wanted to ask about him, but it seemed inappropriate, considering the nature of your relationship with him and the feelings you harbor for the very man. “He’s subjecting himself to his own sort of prison.”

You tilted your head to the side, confused at her words, “...what do you mean?” 

“It’s a long story,” Katara hums quietly. She begins to adjust in her seat, making herself a bit more comfortable. She takes one of your hands and gives it a light squeeze, “luckily we have the time, and I’ve been dying to tell you about the kind of man you’ve made him become.” 

The story made you feel just about everything. 

Sadness and anger mostly, but mainly frustrated at your body for giving out when Zuko needed the exact opposite. It broke your heart to hear how he’s been punishing himself, unable to control his feelings and lashing out unnecessarily. 

But these feelings also confused you. Why would he feel such things over you? It was understandable that Lord Indra had been a bad man, and did not deserve to represent the Fire Nation as a leader anymore. But, you were nothing above a commoner. Your life was not taken, either. You were just you. 

So why would he go so much out of his way…?

“To go such lengths,” Katara approaches the end of her update for you. She straightens her back, a yawn escaping her lips. After all, the woman had barely slept and spent the rest of her night catching you up with the ‘gossip.’ She looked up at you with a sweet smile, “it means that you’re someone very important, whether you like it or not.” 

“To him?” You squeak out before erupting in a coughing fit. Your voice was still struggling, but it was doing its best. 

“Who else?” Katara giggles, poking fun at your confusion. “Anyhow, that’s been the last few days. I’m sorry for such a lengthy story.” 

You shook your head, “no no, thank you for updating me on everything. It feels like I’ve been gone an eternity…” 

“Zuko feels the same way,” Katara hummed. It was weird. Well, rather it felt weird. It was like, through Katara, Zuko had been confessing to you. But, he wasn’t here, and all you were being told was how his heart had been crumbling from your lack of presence. Delusional, you quickly discredited yourself. “But, he’s been fine for the most part. We’ve been trying to keep him grounded, though I’m not sure if our efforts have been completely fruitful.” 

We? You were curious, but not curious enough to question it. Right now, at the moment, you want to get yourself back on your feet. You needed to. To get back to him, to what was normal. You tried to get off the bed on your own, the sudden exertion making your body quickly halt itself. Even Katara held your shoulders, stopping you from your actions. 

“What are you doing?” She immediately questioned, worry drenched her words. “You’ve just woken up.” 

“I need to help him get ready,” you say quietly, your mind already set on a mission. You needed to come back to him, to bring his mind back to sanity. You needed to fulfill your purpose there, and serve the Firelord like you had done before. 

Before she could continue to stop you, a soft knock hit the door. It was a hesitant knock, as if the door was delicate. Almost as if the knock itself did not want to be heard. 

“Katara,” a voice so familiar, you’ve heard it in your dreams. But it was manipulated in this reality, weaved in woe and something you could not pin point. “I can’t live like this anymore,” Zuko’s voice poured out desperately against the door, “I need to see her.” 

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A week had passed by, and you were still insentient. 

An anxiety crawled around Zuko’s body for every day since you first went into comatose. And it only got worse when a few of the lords present that day came and confessed their chest off. With every gruesome detail of how you were laughed at during your torture boiled something else inside of Zuko. 

It took everything in him not to imprison them indefinitely. 

And that was not all. Iroh recruited Toph to assist in repairing the Palace’s garden. The storm from the week prior had done a great deal to the garden, ruining many herbs and misplacing a few stones and boulders. It was very helpful to utilize Toph while also benefiting Toph, who always wanted a reason to earth bend. 

But when Zuko checked in to oversee the process, his heart broke when he saw what happened to your personal small plot. The space allotted to grow your herbs and botanicals had been completely ruined by the landslide. Weeds were pulled and misplaced all around the area. Toph could only pick out a few surviving plants, allowing a few Ladies in Waiting to try and keep them alive in attempts to cheer up their Firelord. 

It did not work all that well, but he appreciated their efforts. 

He also was able to appreciate Sokka’s use of his time, as he had been spending the week in the training yard. He managed to round up a few guards and offered his ‘training services.’ Sokka, as the only non-bender there, insisted that to be ‘truly strong,’ one must tap into their natural strength. Zuko wasn’t sure if they’d benefit too much as a military that must train daily, but he wasn’t going to knock out his enthusiasm. 

And with the wedding preparations coming to a head, Zuko insisted that Aang and Katara take all the time they need to find the perfect spot. Katara entrusted Aang to do the searching, seeing as she couldn’t find herself leaving your side. So, Zuko assigned a land surveyor to join Aang in the tour around the islands. Though, the surveyor was not quite eager to trust his life on the back of an ancient flying bison. 

With that, it would find that Zuko and Katara would spend the most time together, despite their own personal obligations. They’d be the first two to every meal, and typically found time to talk between the corridors. It was not enough to quite bring Zuko back to himself, but it helped to be with Katara and have her ease his worries. 

Today, however, was a bit more interesting. 

It seemed everyone got caught up in their schedule. Zuko was the first to the dinner table, which was not surprising. But, minutes passed and Katara was still absent. It made him wonder if anything happened with you that was causing her delay. 

He stared off distantly, swimming in the nothingness of his fruitless thoughts. He could only wonder every day if he had made the right choice. If challenging Lord Indra was the best thing he could have done for you. He couldn’t get over it, and he wasn’t sure why. Zuko was investing in the hope that you could just wake up and validate his (what he believes was) poor actions. 

As honey eyes sauntered the realm of nothingness, Katara popped into view and pulled him out. He clears his throat and sits up straight, smiling warmly at the sight of his dear friend. Katara had her hair completely loose, its strand darkened by the fresh wash she had just done. Besides her drenched hair, her rosy cheeks played proof to her recent bath. 

“You know, you’ve started looking a lot like your younger self lately,” Katara began, her lips forming a mischievous smirk. 

“Oh?” Zuko hummed curiously. 

Katara points to his eyebrows, “you’ve got this angry look to you all the time, except without all that teenage rage.” 

Zuko rolls his eyes, his cheeks tinting a light pink at her recounting, “feel free to forget those times. Your mind, and my sanity, would greatly appreciate it.” 

“‘m not trying to make fun of you, promise,” Katara coos earnestly. She takes a seat beside him, allowing her burgundy and tawny gold robes to spill over the dining table. She was careful not to allow her wet hair to touch any of the plates or utensils, respecting the hard work of the Ladies in Waiting for setting up their meal. “It’s just crazy how, just a few years ago, you were planning to end all of us.” 

Zuko felt a small pang of guilt, “... you have no idea how grateful I am that those plans did not happen.” 

“How do you think we feel?” Katara jokes, earning a chuckle from the anxious Firelord. She could tell he still wasn’t completely there. Unbeknownst to him, she had long noticed how he had been feigning normalcy for the sake of wanting normalcy. “Thank you again, by the way. We appreciate you allowing us to have our first wedding here.” 

Zuko looked at her and shook his head, “I should be the one thanking you both. I do not deserve to play a factor in your wedding plans.” 

Katara shook her head, his words getting flicked off of her, “we’re getting married here, whether you like it or not.” He was overjoyed beyond words, not that he’d admit it to either of them. Zuko just never thought he would be such an important person to anyone, especially considering what he had done to them when he was younger. 

“Well, there’s still time, should you ever change your mind,” Zuko said simply. 

“You could literally banish us from the Fire Nation, and we still would not budge,” Katara challenged jokingly. 

Zuko suddenly became stern, and shook his head, “that will never happen. I will give my life before that ever happens.” 

Katara quickly put her hand in his forearm and patted him, “it’s only a joke, Zuko. I know you would never…” He allowed her touch only seconds longer before pulling away. She looks up at him, worry welling up in her eyes. “...Zuko?” 

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, his raspy voice just a twinge more abrasive from his ascending feelings. “‘m still not… all there.” 

She understood quickly what he was referring to, and allowed his detest of touch. She knew she was not to blame, nor the cause of his feelings. Even so, it did break her heart to still see him this way. “I understand. Everything good in this world takes time.” 

“I agree,” Zuko says unconvincingly. His fingers begin to lightly tap against the dining table, with an intense (but suppressed) urge to begin digging at the refined wood with his fingernail. “Time just… seems to be testing me lately.” 

Katara knew this feeling good and well, considering everything they had all gone through for the sake of restoring peace. She could see it in everything Zuko has become; the way he has sacrificed so much in order to fight for the shared goal. Even now as she looks at him, she could see how much he has pushed himself aside, and far as a priority. 

Unkempt hair, with its length threatening to get past the dip of his back. This entire week he had gone without having it done, only allowing Lady Kira to temporarily be his direct attendant and brushing it out so it didn’t knot. He did not care to change out of his comfortable robes, despite new official attire being made after Katara had cut his. He even refused to go outside, denying his parched skin the thirst-reliving properties of the sun. 

“Time might be testing you, but you must be better than your impatience,” Katara advises. She gestures to his hair, earning a huff from Zuko. 

“I understand that it’s long,” Zuko begins, “but what benefit is there to cutting it besides appearances?” 

Katara rolls her eyes, “it is too long, but that’s not what I mean. You have refused to wear your crown.” 

Zuko could only stare at her in shame, unable to conjure a good answer. He felt too embarrassed, too undeserving to wear that crown. He may be the Firelord, but he could not find his pride to wear it. He did not deserve to seat it on his head, and face his nation after making such a selfish decision. 

“I cannot,” Zuko says simply, with an empty explanation. She knew why, but she would not press on. It seems those waters were far too disturbed to traverse at this time. “I will not. Not until I’ve earned the right back.” 

Katara looks at him, studying his facial expression. “Not even after she had protected it so lovingly?” Her tone was hush, her words softer than clouds. 

“...especially not after that,” Zuko lets out lamentably. “...after this…” 

There was a newfound association to you and his crown. It was not just the guilt that was strewn around the fibers of its pure metal, but rather the care you had imbued in it after it was entrusted to you. To Zuko, placing his crown on his head felt like your hand, a comforting head pat that he knew he did not deserve. He could not accept his crown until you had opened your eyes and graced him again with your presence. 

The crown remained on the same spot in the balcony while Zuko continued to pray to the spirits. Not for forgiveness, but for your consciousness. Should you ever allow him the opportunity to be before you, with listening ears, he has vowed to apologize until his tongue falls off. If it is necessary for a lifetime, then it will be. Should the spirits hear his plea and grant him his only wish, then his trade will be more than worth it. 

“Before you ask,” Katara beat him to the punch, “she is doing well.” In the midst of their conversation, a few Ladies in Waiting come into the dining room, with covered platters of food sitting carefully in their hold. Zuko offers his hands where he could, assisting in putting down any platters just a bit too heavy or hot for the ladies to handle. “She is quite well, in fact.” 

This pulled Zuko in, “will she…?” 

Katara shrugs, “there are still no real indicators for when she will wake up. But, her wound has healed incredibly well. Her body has responded to all my treatment very well.” 

It was always reassuring to hear you progressing well. It reminded Zuko that he wasn’t too late, and momentarily eased his guilt. And, hearing Katara’s enthusiasm only meant that they could only go up from here. At least, that’s what he hopes. 

“That’s good, I’m glad,” he says quietly, looking down at his legs. “I know I’ve been a downer these last few days, but you don’t know how grateful I am to you guys.” He snakes his hands down, resting them on his lap. “I don’t think I’d be well myself if you guys weren’t here.” 

Katara sneaks her hand in his view, shaking it to grab his gaze once more. He looks back up at her, earning a small smile. “We are here, so let's share the weight together, yeah?” Honey eyes shine, his heart relaxing from Katara’s reassurance. “Even your Waiting Ladies are a huge help.” 

“So I’ve seen,” Zuko comments, recalling how many times he sees them go in and out of your quarters. From providing Katara herbs to changing your sheets, they were eagerly ready and available to help. 

“I’ve tried to tell them that I do not need any breaks, but they’re just as stubborn as their leader,” Katara playfully jabs at her dear friend. “But, they’re too sweet to deny, and it’s nice to be able to eat with you all.” 

It was then that Zuko realized just how much Katara had been sacrificing. Most of the hours in her day were spent with you, and you were not even conscious. This meant that Katara was not only constantly monitoring you, but exerting her water bending abilities beyond what she uses it for. She healed your agonizing wound, refreshed your body, and ensured you were not left alone. 

Katara ate snacks in your quarters, enjoyed tea while keeping a watchful eye on you. If it were her way, this would be a 24/7 shift. And Zuko knew it was not completely for him, either. Katara would be damned if she could not help save a life. If it is within her power, then she will do it. That is just who she is. 

She had been sacrificing her time with Aang, and the search for their perfect wedding. A wedding that had Zuko completely in mind. A wedding that she should have so much say in, and yet entrusted it totally to her counterpart. 

He was lucky to be able to consider Katara one of his lifelong friends. 

“They have been too good to me,” Zuko admits, smiling up at the Waiting Ladies that were preparing their dinner. “I’m glad that that has extended to you all as well.” 

Katara nodded, “I left y/n in the care of Lady Kira. She has been the one to constantly offer her watch whenever she is done attending to your needs.” 

“Is that right?” Zuko hums quietly. He recalls how her informative tip and bravery led him to you. It was her straying away from her fear in hopes that he would find you and bring you back safely. He had given Lady Kira a lot of free time between her duties to him, but he did not realize she gave it all up whenever she could to take care of you. 

It was these realizations that only worsened his feelings about what he let happen to you. 

“You have the best women taking care of this Palace,” Katara hums, giving them all winks. They smile back at her, with faces flushed as they hurried along to get more food from the kitchen. “Surely they will all marry well, if that is in their interest.” 

Before Zuko could even respond, a loud, visceral scream was heard in the distance. 

Outside the dining room, Katara and Zuko could hear metal platters fall to the floor, with shatters from what sounded like plates or cups to join the mess on the ground. They immediately abandoned their seats, rushing out to see what the scene could be. 

Chants of Katara’s name bounced around the corridors, adding to the anxiety-inducing screams, which only led Katara to one conclusion. They both run, following the sounds of her beckoning as they run past a few Waiting Ladies, who pointed them to the direction of the scream. 

“What was that?” Zuko finally asked, his speed not dwindling for a moment. Katara did not have to say a word, as Zuko realized where their path had been leading them. Their hurried figures cut through the dimly lit halls, the torches flickering from the wind of their velocity. 

The screams gradually quieted, and transitioned into a broken cry. The voice was weak, and practically lifeless. But, it was just enough to realize who the voice belonged to. And suddenly, Zuko had become much faster than Katara and sped right past her. 

Those cries were familiar, despite the voice being stripped. It brought him back to the tavern, to the woman balled up on a bar stool. Don’t, he thought to himself. It wasn’t an ask; it was a warning. Whatever caused these cries was in for something dark, and even Zuko feared what that could be. 

All his staff watched as he ran so desperately, as if it had been his very own mother whimpering in his Palace. And he didn’t know what he felt; immense fear over whatever new danger came your way, or the excitement to finally see your eyes again. 

When he turned the corner, he met eyes with a guard, whose expression was nothing short of frightened. His skin paled, his bottom lip trembled, and he was still in his stand. He could not even offer a small bow, despite being in the presence of his Firelord. Zuko walked up to him, his hand buzzing with flickering lightning. 

But, before he could act on assumptions, a smaller body quickly made itself in view. It was Lady Kira, her eyes coated in so many feelings that she herself could not explain. She was right outside of your quarters, the source of the cries, her hands shaking in worried exhilaration. 

Without hesitation, she answered his silent ask, her voice breathless, “she’s awake.” 

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Oh, how the Fire Lord enjoyed that view. But he loved it infinitely more when those royal robes were long gone, scattered across the floor, and you were on all fours on the spacious window seat, facing the glass. He slid right into you after only a few testing strokes. He loved the rhythmic, driving heat of it, just as he was doing now: one hand planted firmly on the padded seat to anchor his weight, the other gripping your waist.

The impact of your hips against his lower abs grew louder and quicker in a breathless cadence that left you no choice but to bend lower, your chest sinking into the fabrics beneath you.

“Every time,” he murmured. He moved his hand from your waist to press at the back of your neck, keeping you steady, holding you captive to the his thrusts. “Every single time, I think we’re actually going to just sit here and watch the rain… And every time, you prove me wrong.”

Before you could replace one of your whines with a coherent sentence, his pace changed. He slowed, and thrusted deep, filling you to the brim twice over before pulling his upper body down to press a kiss grazing your shoulder blade. His hands snuck beneath you, mapping the curve of your breasts with a lethal combination of caresses and grips you’d gladly take the credit for teaching him.

“More…” you whispered, moving your hips back against him in desperate friction.

He moaned into tour skin, and braced his weight to lift himself.

“Mm… something’s missing,” he answered, holding still for a moment, letting you ache around him.

“I need more, please, Zuko—”

Lightning struck in the distance, illuminating the glass.

“You always do,” he rumbled. In one movement, he turned you around, your back flat against the crimson cushions. He pulled you flush to the edge, stepping between your parted legs. “But you aren't looking at me. I need you to look at me…”

Without giving you a chance to catch your breath, he captured your mouth while your hands flew to your own chest. He allowed you a single, stolen gasp of air before he buried himself inside you again, forcing your head back against the silk pillows.

“There you are…”, he gasped out.

He began to move again, ragged whines falling from his lips right next to your ear with no pressure to stop, your hands finding their anchor around his forearms as the storm raged outside.

note: just a little something bc i had some free time.:-) xx

He remained composed atop the raised dais, hands resting against his knees as another minister elaborated on the matter at hand.

“…which is precisely why granting exclusive docking rights would undermine the eastern ports, Fire Lord.”

Across the room, Governor Lian shook her head in disagreement.

“With respect, Minister Qin, my province financed the entire expansion of those docks. Surely equity demands that—”

“It would,” another councilor interrupted, “had the southern merchants not provided half the labor.”

“They were compensated.”

“I shall remind you that they were compensated only financially,” Governor Lian corrected. “That does not make their contribution equivalent.”

“And financing the docks does not grant ownership over them. As I’ve previously mentioned…”

The debate, denying itself the choice to become anything else, resumed.

Zuko resisted the unroyal urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. After nearly two hours, the map spread across the central table seemed to have accumulated far more pins than actual solutions.

He looked at the open windows, wondering if, by now, you had already finished your own duties. If he remembered correctly, today's schedule had you reviewing the final preparations for the Royal Academy's new wing.

If the spirits proved exceptionally kind, the two of you might still manage lunch together. It had become one of his favorite parts of the day, salvaging an hour to yourselves before the relentless demands of duty reclaimed you both.

A knock silenced the chamber. Every head swung to the doorway.

One of the palace guards stepped inside, looking far more uneasy than a routine interruption should ever warrant.

"My apologies, Fire Lord." The guard hesitated. "There is... someone requesting an immediate audience."

Zuko couldn’t answer as a familiar little voice sounded from behind him.

“Papa?”

Izumi stood at the entrance, peeking from behind the guard as she fiddled with the hem of her tunic beneath her hands. The moment her eyes found Zuko, the little crease between her brows disappeared; she gave him a small wave without ever lowering her chin, even beneath the curious gazes now fixed upon her.

For his part, Zuko smiled.

Princess Izumi dipped into a bow.

“I’m sorry for… interrupting,” she said, stepping into the chamber with her hands clasped before her, just as you'd taught her. “Mama said I could come find you if your meeting was almost over.” She tilted her head. “...So is it, Papa?”

Governor Lian had abandoned any attempt to conceal the headache brewing behind her temples, Minister Qin tapped the edge of the map with the end of his brush as a distraction, and even a few attendants standing along the walls seemed grateful for the unexpected interruption. More than one councilor hid an amused smile.

“I assure you, Princess, it won't take much longer,” he replied, offering her a discreet wink that earned a tiny giggle. “I'll come find you in just a moment, alright?”

She nodded, though she made no move to leave. The guard at the door waited for instructions, but Izumi merely moved from one foot to the other.

“The hallway is quite boring to wait in, though…”

A few chuckles escaped around the council room.

“Oh?” Zuko mused, pretending to consider the matter with all the seriousness as he glanced around the room. “Whatever could the palace possibly offer to keep the Princess entertained?”

His eyes brightened with exaggeration. “I know!” Patting the space beside him on the broad dais, he smiled. “Come here.”

Izumi gathered the hem of her tunic, climbing the steps to the dais, and accepting Zuko's hand once she reached the top. She settled beside him with remarkable composure, making sure to not forget folding her hands in her lap like you had taught her.

"I promise to be quiet," she whispered behind her hand.

"I know you will," Zuko murmured, kissing her cheek..

Governor Lian, her expression now holding a smile, stepped forward and gestured back to the map. “As I was saying, Fire Lord, the eastern harbor becomes entirely unsustainable if every province enjoys unrestricted access. We financed the expansion, commissioned the engineers, and maintain the infrastructure.”

"And no one disputes that," Minister Qin answered patiently. "However… the southern ports have relied upon those routes for decades. Restricting access now would cripple their trade."

"It wouldn't cripple anything," Governor Lian countered. "It would encourage investment elsewhere."

A councilor cleared his throat. "Which, realistically, requires years and a small fortune in silver."

"And until then?" another asked. "The southern merchants simply absorb the loss?"

The debate threatened to spin into its third hour. Beside him, Zuko felt Izumi's head drift from one speaker to the next, her eyes tracking every pointing finger.

A tiny tug found the sleeve of his robe.

"Papa?"

He turned his attention toward his daughter.

"Mm?"

"...I don't understand."

Minister Qin regarded the princess with a courteous nod.

"The matter is rather straightforward, Your Highness, if I may attempt an explanation.” He eyed Zuko, who offered a brief nod, entertained by the idea. “Two provinces possess competing proprietary claims over a shared maritime infrastructure following disproportionate fiscal and logistical contributions, rendering the equitable allocation of commercial privileges exceptionally—"

Izumi blinked twice, then looked back at her father.

"...What?"

Zuko pressed his lips together, doing his absolute best to suppress a smile.

"I think," he said, meeting Minister Qin’s eyes apologetically, "what the minister means is..."

He reached for the map, lifting two small carved wooden ships from opposite ends of the harbor.

"Let's pretend these are two turtle-ducks."

A ripple of amusement passed through the room. Governor Lian folded her arms, smiling.

"I must admit, Fire Lord," she said, "I am curious to see how the turtle-ducks resolve our maritime crisis…”

Zuko looked back down at Izumi. "These are two turtle-ducks, alright? This turtle-duck helped build the pond."

She nodded, watching the explanation unfold.

"And this turtle-duck has been swimming there for a very long time."

Izumi tilted her head, her brow furrowing as she processed the information, which alone made Zuko melt.

"...Are they friends?"

"They're… trying to be."

"That’s nice of them." She studied the wooden figures. "Why are they shouting then?"

Governor Lian let out the tiniest laugh, catching herself. "That's an excellent question, Princess. They both want to use the pond, so they… ” She hesitated, looking awkwardly around the room. “…they bump into each other when swimming.”

Izumi nodded. “They just need to say 'excuse me' when they pass!”

Minister Qin began adjusting his robes as he jumped back in, "Unfortunately, Princess, commercial shipping requires simultaneous—"

Izumi leaned forward, letting everyone know she wasn't finished as she reached out a tiny finger to nudge the two wooden pieces until they sat side by side on the dais.

"But..." She looked up at Zuko. "...if this one helped build the pond..." She patted the first boat. "...and this one loves the pond..." She patted the other. "...why are they trying to win it?"

She gave one of the figures to Zuko, her little fingers wrapping the other one.

"Papa says dragons only fly high when they have the whole sky," she recited. "...Maybe ponds are like that too?"

Zuko turned the boat over in his hand, feeling the rough grain against his thumb as he spoke. "...If one turtle-duck took over the pond," he said, "...the other could no longer swim."

"Nope," she corrected matter-of-factly, placing the wooden boat back beside the other one before propping her cheek against her palm. "That wouldn't be fair."

Zuko nodded, closing his hand around the toy as he addressed the table with a proud smile.

"I believe the Princess is asking," he said, directing his voice at Governor Lian, "whether this discussion should be about deciding who deserves the harbor..." He rotated his palms up, inviting the rest of the council in. "...or how everyone who depends on it can continue using it fairly."

Governor Lian rolled her shoulders back, pulling away from the table where she had been slouched for the better part of the morning.

"...Then perhaps," she began, "exclusive rights needn't be permanent."

Minister Qin set his inkstone down.

Lian continued, her hand tracing a small arc over the table to illustrate. "The eastern province could retain priority access during the peak harvest months, when the harbor is at its busiest. Outside of that window… the southern merchants would be granted unrestricted use."

Minister Qin considered the proposal, tapping the end of his brush against his palm.

"The southern ports would, in return, contribute to the harbor's maintenance throughout the year," he said. "Shared responsibility should accompany shared access."

Governor Lian offered a decisive nod. "That seems only fair, indeed.”

A collective rustle of paper followed as several councilors leaned back in their chairs.

"It is hardly a finished treaty," one governor remarked, capping his inkwell.

"Yes," Minister Qin agreed, sweeping his old notes into a messy pile and pulling a fresh sheet of parchment toward him. "But it is considerably closer than we were an hour ago."

Zuko let out a breath as he stood up from the dais.

"Then let us adjourn for today," he said. "Minister Qin, Governor Lian, I trust the two of you can draft the revisions before tomorrow's session."

Both officials bowed at the same time.

"It will be done, Fire Lord."

A collective exhale seemed to pass through the room as chairs scraped backward. Beside him, oblivious to the fact that she had just dismantled a morning's worth of bureaucratic gridlock, Izumi was occupied with making the two vessels waddle clumsily across the map's margin.

"...Now say sorry," she muttered to one of them, tapping their wooden hulls together.

Governor Lian laughed. She massaged the bridge of her nose as she watched Izumi. "She possesses your heart, Your Majesty."

Zuko watched his daughter, who was too engrossed in her game to notice the adults. "I hope hers is even better," he replied.

Minister Qin smiled, wiping a dark smudge of ink from his thumb with a cloth. "If I may say so, Fire Lord, it was never your answers that truly distinguished you."

Zuko tilted his head, prompting the old man to finish.

"It was the questions you chose to ask," Qin said, dropping his brushes into a small terracotta cup.

"...Thank you, Minister."

He stood up, shaking out his legs to get the blood moving after hours on the dais. He extended a hand down to Izumi. "Now, if you will excuse me... We happen to have a vital luncheon to attend."

The doors groaned open. You were standing on the threshold, having arrived just as the first few officials crossed the exit.

"Mama!"

Izumi leaped down from the low platform, her slippers slapping against the polished floor as she sprinted across the room. You dropped into a crouch just in time to catch her momentum, the air leaving your lungs as she wrapped her arms around your neck, burying her face into your shoulder.

“Well, hello, if it isn't my favorite Princess…” you said, pressing a warm kiss to her temple. “I told you to wait outside if the meeting hadn't ended.”

“But Mama,” Izumi said, pulling back enough to allow you to breathe, her lower lip turning out in a tiny pout, “it was too lonely!”

"And she ended up being quite the help," Zuko added.

He offered you a hand to help you back to your feet. You accepted it stepping into his space, your arm slipping behind his back while his settled around your waist. Leaning down, he stole a well earned kiss.

"Did she, now?" you murmured once you parted, letting your forehead rest against his chest, equally worn from your own royal responsibilities.

Zuko smiled, smoothing a hand over Izumi's hair.

“She's ready to become Fire Lord.”

You raised an eyebrow, an amused smile tugging at your lips. To him, Izumi had been ready to be Fire Lord since the day she was born. You knew your daughter was, in reality, heading down an excellent path, but the pride in your husband's voice stirred your curiosity.

“How come?”

Instead of answering your question, Izumi returned one of the little carved boats she still held to Zuko so she could proceed to take your hand, and lead you into the corridor.

"Pay attention, Mama. Do you see my boat?”

You nodded.

“Turns out it’s not a boat, it’s a turtle-duck…”

note: hii, i hope you like this one while i finish the request inspired by ‘too little too late’! thank you for reading!! Xx

Zuko was in a different world entirely at the dinner table. 

After finishing his assignments upon his uncle's instructions, he was surprised to find himself first in the dining room. It was unused most of the year, considering that Zuko did not have enough family or friends in the Fire Nation to utilize it. It was just his uncle and him, and his friends were busy in their own nations or traversing between the many in order to help the world. 

He sat at the very end, where he was ‘supposed’ to sit as the Firelord. It disgusted him enough to know he was sitting where his father used to sit during his dictatorial reign. He could almost feel the evil essence latching to his rear. But, he was no longer impacted by his fathers demented being. Especially considering the day he had. 

Firelord Zuko was busy traversing the third stage of grief: bargaining. 

Now that he was finally by himself, he had been fighting with his own head, with his very own thoughts. And all he could really think about was you, and what he let happen to you. To think that he, the Firelord, gave mercy out so easily just for it to bite him back in the end. For you to suffer without reason. 

Your face, your tears– everything about your being was killing him to his core. He saw all the light vanish, and what was left was the shadow of someone who was previously whole. In the moment when he found you, he was not able to shut down. The very sight of you balled on that stool in fear almost made him lose all feeling in his body. The only thing that kept him from that was needing to get you safe and Lord Indra punished. 

But not even winning Agni Kai could erase his guilt. If he just ignored your mercy for Lord Indra, this all could have been avoided. If he just fought him right then and there, Lord Indra would have been a person of the past. If he just let his guards take him away to get you to a doctor right away, perhaps you would not have passed out and in your current state of comatose. 

Alternatively, how could he dare ignore your ask? One of the many reasons why he respected you so much was because of your willingness to give mercy, despite it being given to those so undeserving. You begged for souls who were unmerited. Undeserving of even a drop of your sympathy. 

He was being punished for things he did not understand, feelings he can’t seem to unravel well. He just wanted to know that you were going to be okay. That you’ll just wake up any minute now, and that this nightmare would be over. He wanted to see you enter the throne room, kettle in hand, a smile on your lips and some smart banter leaving your lips. 

He just wanted you back– the whole you. 

It was wishful thinking, as the true fear lies in when you do actually wake up. What if you begin to blame him for what happened to you? Or redirect your pain towards him and never forgive him? A burning scar, a reminder of his shortcomings. A hideous mark coined by Zuko’s neglect. He was being subjected to torture of ‘should have’s and ‘what if’s. 

‘You could have stopped this.’

His fathers words have seemed to conjure from sitting in what used to be his seat. Zuko felt that dismissive feeling, as his father would ignore him. As if he wasn’t even there at all. He’s reminded of all the times he could not make his father proud or best his sister in anything. Back then, and right at this moment, he was nothing. 

‘You’re so weak…’

He was doing what was right… wasn’t he? He bested Lord Indra, demonstrating how capable he was as a Firelord. He fired Chamberlain Minji, disregarding her tenureship that could have been used as manipulation otherwise. He brought you back to safety, though not in the condition he would have liked for you. 

Zuko looks down at his hand, somehow seeing them as doubles. His own mind was exhausting him further, unable to really get a grip of himself. You were safe, being treated by the best person who could treat you. Is he still not good enough?

Then finally, someone enters the dining room. 

Zuko jumped, his heart immediately racing to see Katara appear. She had changed into some temporary robes offered at the Palace for visitors (which were mainly his best friends). Her long, beautiful hair was pinned up, and she looked just as tired. And he couldn’t blame her, considering the requests he asked of her in her first minutes here. 

“Before you ask, she’s fine,” Katara caught him at the jump, meandering around the long dining table to take a seat beside him. He quickly leaves his chair to pull out hers, earning a giggled ‘thank you.’ He returns to his seat, still a bit out of it but itching to hear whatever Katara has regarding your condition. “But, it may take a few days until she wakes up, so be patient.” 

Zuko couldn’t find any relief in her update, “how come she’s… like this?”

Katara shrugged, putting her hands on the table. She rubbed them carelessly, attempting to relieve the tension in them after water bending so much on your wound. “From what I saw, it seemed her body was working a little too hard to try and calm down her pain. But for me to really tell, I would need you to explain to me exactly what happened.” 

Zuko sighs, feeling that guilt runs up like an erupting volcano, “I owe you that much… but let's wait for the others to come, too. It’s a long story, and I’d rather not repeat it.”

Almost on cue, Aang and Sokka file it, the two looking completely wasted. Toph follows closely behind, who also took advantage of the comfortable robes provided to her. As the boys sat on one side, Toph joined Katara on the other. She leans her head on Katara’s shoulder and closes her eyes. 

“Good to see you again, Katara,” she hums somewhat sarcastically. “How did the surgery go?” 

Zuko, Aang, and Sokka immediately snap their necks to look towards Toph, who offers no other words. Katara rolls her eyes and chuckles, “don’t start. No surgery happened,” Katara confirmed. 

“Too soon?” Toph pipes, earning a groan from Sokka. He already noticed how frantic Zuko was, and didn’t want to see his friend still on the road of stress. 

Aang quickly stops the jovial space, and looks at Katara sternly, “how is she?” 

Katara nods, “she’s fine, just needs all the rest she can get. A few of her fellow ladies took over for me so I could eat.” 

“Do you plan to stay with her overnight?” Sokka asked curiously, surprised at her dedication. 

She nods, “should anything happen, I’d rather be the first to know.” 

Zuko quickly takes her hand into both of his, and slowly brings his forehead to the table. All his friends noticed this, and could only frown in sympathy. “Thank you, Katara,” Zuko says quietly, his raspy voice finally returning to him in a more calmer manner. “‘m sorry to ask such a huge favor from you.” 

Katara requests he sits up and waves him off, “I would never forgive myself if I just watched her and did nothing. Please don’t think like I am doing you a grand favor– I wanted to do this.” 

A moment of silence ensues. Zuko forgets that these are his very best friends. And not only are they his best friends, but he considers them to be the best humans in this very world. His entire world relied on them being part of it. Without them, he’d have nothing. 

“That said,” Sokka sounds, his eyes looking over curiously at Zuko. “...can we ask who she is? From the looks of everything, she seems kinda really important to you.” 

And so, that began the story telling of how Zuko and you met. Ladies in Waiting come into the dining room, appearing with much more energy while serving everyone their dinner. It seems since Chamberlain's dismissal, the weight of pressure was completely lifted from them. And little did Zuko know at the moment, but they had cared for their leader just a bit more. 

As Zuko explained everything, Aang couldn’t help but want to smile. He had been worried about his friend since his split with Mai, and all the pressure of being the Firelord began to consume him. Aang understood him, considering the hardships of being the Avatar while also still allowing him to indulge in his love with Katara. 

But Aang knew it was Katara or no one. He could not fumble this one, regardless of who he was. 

“So, to be clear,” Sokka begins, “y/n has been your attendant for 2 years?” Zuko nods, confirming his words. “And… nothing more?” 

“...no?” Zuko answered skeptically, squirting hard at Sokka and his words. Katara had to look away, unable to keep her smile back. Aang was on the same boat, but still wanted to be supportive to his friend, despite his previous gossip with Sokka. 

“What Sokka is trying to say is that you seem to care very much about your attendant,” Aang says quietly, saving Sokka in the process. “She must be extraordinary at her job.” 

Zuko finally caught on and looked away, “she’s part of the Palace… I’d do it for any of my Ladies in Waiting, considering how much they all do for me.” 

“And we’d believe you,” Toph begins quietly, “but you did not address her Lady this entire time we’ve been talking about her.” 

Zuko’s tongue was caught, and a hue of pink decorated his cheeks. He felt fortunate that Toph couldn’t see him, but she was as astute as any other person with sight. She smirked, knowing she caught him. “It’s… it’s not like that, I promise,” Zuko says quietly. Aang could tell he was bothered to say that sentence, but did not press him. “She’s been good to me, and I… feel awful for not having protected her. Especially from a Fire Nation lord.” 

“We may have stopped a big evil,” Katara begins, lifting a piece of broccoli with her chop sticks, “but there are still many evils in this world.” 

Aang let out a sigh, seconding her words, “considering all the missions we’ve been on lately, it feels like there’s too many of them out there.” 

Zuko was alarmed by this, and looked at the Avatar worriedly, “is there anything I can do? I know I’m no use with everything going on in the Fire Nation, but I have plenty of men I can send out if you need.” 

Sokka cockily crosses his arms across his chest, “don’t worry, we’ve been handling everything well. Nothing can best these muscles,” he unravels his arms to begin flexing his biceps. Zuko rolls his eyes, amused at Sokka’s ridiculousness. 

“You call those muscles?” Toph scoffs. She sits up, and begins flexing herself, bragging about the few centimeters she had over him. “You clearly must be blind, too, if you haven’t noticed these.” 

Finally, the tension broke, and Zuko let out a laugh. All his friends stared at him with doe eyes, relieved that he seemed to be more at ease. Even though everything was still fresh, it was nice to at least take him out of his head to have moments like this. Sokka retaliated, crediting her earth bending for the reason she was so bulked. They all share a laugh while enjoying their meal. 

Zuko then realized his uncle's absence, and quickly asked one of the Ladies in Waiting where he was. “He is having dinner in the kitchen, Firelord Zuko,” she informs him quietly. “He wanted to speak with some of the leading staff regarding the current changes in the team.” 

“Ah, right,” Zuko understood immediately, thanking her for the update. His friends looked at him curiously while their finished plates were being collected. “My uncle has assumed management of the Palace staff after I fired my Chamberlain.” 

Katara was the first to express distaste, “I’m shocked she remained for as long as she has here. I could not imagine sending my own staff– a fellow woman, to such a dangerous and disgusting man.” 

Zuko couldn’t believe it either. It still broke his heart, imagining the torment you endured because of Chamberlain's thoughtless decision. “I think I have been too soft with my staff, and safely assuming that they would always do the right thing. I didn’t realize the evils I had so close to me until now.” 

“Not your fault,” Toph hums, "establishing world peace is not on everyone's agenda.” 

“Even then, to do that to a woman over pride?” Sokka begins, still shocked at what he has witnessed and heard today. “That ego was far too fragile for him to be that cocky.” 

Aang was not a rumor monger and quickly put his hands down on the table, “but it’s over now, and Katara is taking good care of your attendant. In other news,” Aang looks over at Zuko, the atmosphere suddenly becomes serious once more, “you must be wondering why we are here.” 

Zuko nods, pushing away his feeling temporarily, “when I read your letter, I was confused at how little you wrote. I can only assume it's something very important…” 

Katara and Aang both place their hands on one of Zuko’s, smiling very excitedly. They glance at each other, before Katara gestures at Aang with her lips. The Avatar then turns to Zuko, clearing his throat before continuing, “Katara and I are getting married.” 

For just this moment, Zuko was the happiest he could be. Despite everything, he quickly rose to his feet and pulled in Aang for a hug. Aang felt the way Zuko held him, with pats on his back fueled with love and excitement for the both of them. Katara rose to her feet in preparation for a hug, but she did not expect to be pulled in so rapidly for the embrace. Zuko was more gentle with her, giving her a long and warm hug. 

His golden eyes were wide, pulling away to hold both of their hands once more, “I…– congratulations to you both!” He stutters, overjoyed by the news. It was expected, but still none the less welcome. “Have arrangements been made yet?” 

Katara nods, “this is actually the reason why we are here…” Zuko stares at them both, anticipating details. “Initially, we planned to have a traditional Water Tribe wedding, and regardless intended to come here to invite you personally.” 

Aang then takes over, “but, we knew that it would likely not be possible for you to come, and we need you there.” They then glance at one another before Aang continued, “so, we have decided to arrange for two weddings– and the first wedding will guarantee your presence.” 

Zuko quickly shifted into apologetic mode, “‘m sorry that I have so much trouble making time for you– all of you. I knew becoming Firelord would be difficult… but, I did not realize how much it took from my free time…” 

“It’s not your fault that your father was demented,” Toph says, rubbing the palms of her hands. She’s picked up the habit of touching her callouses from her friends, though it made much more sense to her considering she was an earth bender. “You were given a broken nation, so of course it makes sense that you have to stay here and fix it.” 

Sokka nods in agreement, “which is why they’ve decided to bring the wedding to you, here.” 

Golden eyes widen, and he looks over at the two lovebirds, “you… you want to host your first wedding here?” 

“How else were we going to get you to come?” Katara says in an obvious tone. She gave him the warmest smile, and for a second, he felt completely calm. “We came all this way to ask if we can host our wedding here.” 

Zuko didn’t hesitate, “pick anywhere, and I will make it happen.” 

Aang felt relief seeing life return back to Zuko, even if just for a moment. He knew the kind of stress he was under, considering the two of them were leaders. But, with what happened today, he wanted nothing more than for Zuko to indulge in good news. “Thank you for extending your nation to us, always. We were actually particularly interested in the nearby islands of Capital City, if that counts.” 

“Again, pick anywhere and you can consider it done,” Zuko insisted. “You guys are my friends, and the fact that you want me this much at your wedding– this is the least I could do.” 

“We would not all be here, now, together like this without you, Zuko,” Katara reminds him, resting her hand on his forearm. “We’re family, and our wedding would not be complete without you there.” 

Zuko nods, his heart filling up from his friend's words. There was nothing that could compare to this– these friends of his. Their souls were welcoming, their hearts pure and untampered. They were the few blessings Zuko could count on in this world, and he wouldn’t dare trade it for anything in this world. 

“Feel free to tour any of the islands,” Zuko hums simply, “you should already have, but I will send word out of your presence and remind them that you are permitted anywhere in the Fire Nation.” 

Aang and Katara nodded, their excitement very much plastered on their faces. Zuko knew this was bound to happen, but it did make him any less excited for the two. They had always made sense, and he knew that eventually, down the line, they would wed. 

“I’ll keep this in mind for my future wedding with Suki,” Sokka interrupts the moment with his own greedy inquiry. Toph kicked him under the table, earning a grunt and a glare from him. “What? I’m just seizing the opportunity!” 

Toph rolls her eyes before rising from her own seat, “yeah, yeah, you opportunist. Sorry to break the excitement, but I’m exhausted. If you need me, just stomp.” Katara grabs one of Toph’s hands, giving it a squeeze. She squeezes back before yawning and waving at everyone. “Have a good night.” 

With that, Toph was gone. Sokka followed suit too, considering he was double exhausted from the travel and getting a good training session with Aang prior. Aang had second his motion, bidding Zuko goodnight, and leaving Katara with a kiss on the forehead. It was then just them two, sitting quietly at the dining table. 

“So…” Zuko broke the silence, his eyes welled up in curiosity, “you will be sleeping in y/n’s room, correct?” 

She nods, “a few of the ladies here helped arrange a smaller bed to be brought into her quarters. So I’ll do a final check up on her before calling it a night.” 

Zuko nods, “if there is anything else you need, it is yours. We have all sorts of resources, and an in-palace apothecary and doctor.” For your health, a world of resources will be at Katara’s hands. 

Katara giggles, amused at Zuko’s serious nature. He’s loosened over the years, but he’s still that very stoic boy. “Don’t worry, I have everything I need,” Katara assured him. “She’s perfectly fine, and your other ladies are quite on top of her recovery, too.” 

“Is that right?” He says in a hush tone. “I’m glad. They treated y/n very well when she first arrived at the Palace. I imagine the sort of bonds they’ve developed in her 2 years here.” 

Katara nods. There was a sisterhood there that Katara admired, and it all made sense as to why Zuko had cared about you the way he did. He wouldn’t admit it– at least not now, but Katara caught a whiff of the emotional turmoil he was subjecting him to. She wasn’t going to tease him though, at least not yet. 

“But, she’s strong,” Katara says quietly. She brings her hands up, staring down at her palms. “Not everyone could stay so conscious for that long, considering the time between you finding her and her going unconscious.” 

“So…?” 

“Adrenaline,” she says simply. “I think she held out for so long because her body pushed out as much adrenaline as it could. But…” she smiles a little at the information that she has. “I think something pushed her will to fight, too.” 

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Zuko walks Katara back to your quarters. It was not necessary, as Katara knew her way around the Palace well. But, this was also a sneaky way to see, if maybe, you were finally awake. It was wishful thinking, but he didn’t want his hope to be kicked so soon without checking. 

The corridor was quite dim, with small torches dancing quietly in the stillness of the Palace. The rain calmed down, only offering little drops every now and then in its aftermath. And, with Chamberlain Minji relieved of her duties, the Palace somehow felt lighter. 

A plentiful of guards stood stern outside of your quarters, and only moved to bow when the two slowly approached. Katara placed her hand against the door, looking back to see Zuko already looking away. He had his back turned to her, waiting to hear the sound of the door click open, and shut. 

“Zuko, why are you looking away?” Katara asks curiously, working her hardest to conceal her amusement. “She is not inappropriately dressed or anything.” 

Zuko clears his throat, still unwilling to turn around, “...I do not think it is appropriate to look at her while she is not awake. It feels…  wrong.” Katara couldn’t swallow her giggle, entertained at his shy being. 

“You want to see her, do you not?” Katara asks. She watches Zuko remain still for a moment before his head nods. She sees his neck move forward, his body being more honest than his words. “I promise you that it is okay. She is a patient, and is accepting visitors.” 

Still reticent, he turns around and anxiously watches as Katara opens the door. He immediately shuts his eyes, but slowly opens them to reveal quite a scene. 

There you were, in the center of your bed, but turned over to your stomach. Your face was hidden by your hair, which was sprawled all about your pillow. You were covered by all sorts of soft blankets and smaller cushions, ensuring your comfort was optimal. And surrounding you on the large frame were several Ladies in Waiting, who were balled and coiled every which way to fit on the bed. They were cuddled right up against your entire outline, but he noticed they were careful not to be too pressed into you, ensuring you and your wound would recover safely and uninterrupted. 

And in that moment, he felt at pure ease. He could hear your light snores, your body twitching in moments that would go unnoticed to the untrained eye. And because you were covered up, he did not have to face your mark. At least, not for now. 

“She looks… relaxed,” Zuko comments, his voice practically breathless. He felt such a weight slide off his shoulders, being met with gratitude that you were well. “Is she…?” 

“Asleep,” Katara re-confirms for him, albeit seeing you with his own eyes. “Which reminds me– I have something for you.” 

She enters the room, leaving the door behind her ajar. He doesn’t dare peak through in pure respect for you and your privacy. He was already bold enough to go to your room before you were awake and invited him in, but he was not going to disrespect you and your quarters in your current state. 

A few seconds pass, and Katara comes out. In her hand; a small, golden crown. The one he entrusted you with before he had proceeded in his challenge against Lord Indra. “Here,” Katara says quietly, offering it to him. “She had it clutched in her arms. Quite tightly might I add… it took me a little to take it from her.” 

His eyes were fixed down at it, the physical symbol of his position as Firelord. It was silly, but he couldn’t help but notice something. “It’s still warm…” he let out somberly, his raspy voice cracking at his own brewing feelings. 

“I didn’t realize she was a fire bender until I had touched it,” Katara noted, rubbing at two of her fingers, “she unconsciously heated it, like she needed to continue protecting.”

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The moon long established itself in the sky, and even gave Zuko its pity. 

After he had bathed and dressed himself for slumber, he found himself sauntering towards the balcony. He practically collapsed on the ground, looking up at the moon. Its glow demanded attention as it adorned the entire world with its shine within the darkness of the night. It was bittersweet to be there, in the scene. 

It was just days ago that you had accompanied him here to wake the sun from its night-long slumber. You never noticed, but his favorite part was seeing the way the sun rose and kissed your face entirely. The orange rays of the strong star seemed to have woken you up too, as your eyes always widened from such a beautiful moment. 

“Goodmorning,” you would always coo, as if the sun could hear you. The smile on your face was second to none– you were just as beautiful as nature’s bidding. He was too familiar with the way your delicate fingers would tip tap against the cold, metal guardrail. 

Without him realizing it, he was crying again. 

He felt overwhelmed, the torment of his mind replaying the sight of your back. He looked down at his crown, the one you protected so earnestly. A fire bender who does not bend– heating it up so much that others burnt their fingers when giving it a touch. Giving shield to this useless crown, a crown that meant nothing if the user it sat on did not hold incredible power and will. 

Because of his neglect, his hunger for a lick back, you were missing out on days of your life. Life was short, and you had to spend a few of them unconscious, unknowing the ever changing world around you. You were missing out on seeing the sun, eating delicious food, and laughing at whatever was worth its humor. And the worst part was– it was still uncertain when you would wake up. 

On top of that, his bigger fear was ‘when’ becoming ‘if.’

And he… he was missing time with you. He was backed up on your delicious cups of tea, and lacking memories of your simple, daily lives. He was missing out on your smile, and the way you focused so much on doing his hair. His heart was shattered, overwhelmed at how much your absence impacted his mind and body. 

His hand grabbed at the collar of his robe, feeling a weight settle in his chest. It felt like a panic attack, but it wasn’t. He felt breathless, but his lungs were full of air. It was the push and pull of feeling like dying and being forced to live like this. 

His depression stage finally set in, and Zuko remained on that balcony, getting not one wink of sleep. 

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The rain felt like it got a little louder after Katara had told everyone the news. 

There was an uncomfortable silence in the throne room that followed. Zuko ensured his friend's comfort, as sitting pillows and lavish blankets were ornate near his desk. Ladies in Waiting quickly filed in, providing all his guests with tea and some snacks to pick on while dinner was getting prepared. Appa and Momo, too, were situated in the garden of the Palace, taking their long awaited rest after a long journey. 

Aang, Sokka, and Toph were completely still, unsure how to make the first move. Usually, Katara was the one who was able to start the conversation within tension, but she had been tasked to nurse you in your quarters. So the three were left stumped, unsure how to proceed. 

They simply watched as their friend stared off, his hands holding each other tightly, weaved fingers with the tips denting into his knuckles. Zuko was unwell, and trying to contain himself. After he had shed the tears he needed to let out, it was like he had just started the five stages of grief. 

It began with denial. He was in pure disbelief of everything he let happen within the last 24 hours. His disheveled hair couldn’t even hide how stunned he was, despite the jet black strands out of place and stuck at different areas of his face. Every second or so, his body would twitch even, indicating the mountain of stress he’s put on himself. 

Unable to see his friend like this, Aang quickly made haste and walked up to Zuko himself. He takes a seat beside him, careful not to touch him or make him uncomfortable. With this, Zuko does try to stop his shaking, though it was in vain. “Hey,” Aang lulls, pushing the boundaries to place one hand on Zuko’s, “take it easy. You did what you had to do.” 

Zuko lets out a shaky sigh, unable to find any solace in his dear friend's touch. His eyes could only trace around the arrow of his hand, distracting himself with his nomadic marking. “She’s sick because of me and what I did,” Zuko lets out, his tone completely low and melancholic. 

Aang tries to reassure him, “comatose is temporary; her body is just exhausted and needs extra rest.” Those words unsettle Zuko even further. Had he not committed to doing the Agni Kai (which he abolished on purpose), he wouldn’t have neglected you. Had he taken action the night prior, this all could have been avoided.

This was the same spiraling he thought he’d rid of as a teenager. 

But perhaps some things never change. He lets out another shaky sigh, before speaking once more, “I apologize for this, but could you all give me some time? I still have… a few things to attend to before I can be a proper host.” 

Sokka immediately agrees, getting back on his feet, “totally. I’ve been dying to lay down; Appa’s back is just not as comfy as it used to be.” Despite the tension, everyone could still appreciate Sokka being Sokka. 

He then proceeds to walk up the steps of the throne, and sits on Zuko’s other free side. He slides an arm in front of him, and bends it under his armpit. He gives him a firm hug, in which Zuko reciprocates, resting his chin on his shoulder. “It’s going to be alright. We’ll be here when you’re ready to talk to us.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Zuko agrees quietly, with Aang also giving reassuring pats to his back. 

“I really am sorry for not welcoming you all properly… and thank you, for understanding.” 

Toph follows, getting on her feet as well. She regains her complete senses, and begins to leave the room, “it sounds like it’s our time to go.” She approaches Zuko, standing tall before him. Without another word, she thumps the top of his head with her fist. “You are the Firelord, don’t forget that,” Toph hums. She turns and goes to exit (grabbing her plate of snacks with her), with a guard assuming position to lead her out. “See you at dinner, grandpa.” 

When she exits, Master Iroh comes into view and smiles at her. “Despite your age,” Master Iroh begins, feeling as she nuzzles her arm against his own, “you haven’t changed much at all.” 

“Growing up is for the rest of them,” Toph comments, smirking as she gets escorted to her room. But she then stops, realizing Master Iroh had not been alone. Chamberlain was behind him, following silently without daring to look at Toph. She could sense her nerves, and couldn’t help but chuckle. 

Whatever happened must involve this lady, Toph thought to herself. But if anyone can handle their obligations, it’s Zuko. After all, he is the Firelord. She was going to continue walking, but she felt Chamberlain look down at her bare feet and scoff. Suddenly, a piece of the floor rose, causing the Chamberlain to trip. 

Master Iroh quickly catches her, “are you alright, Madam Minji?” 

“Mmm,” she says quietly, glaring back at the cause. Toph lets out a hearty laugh before raising her hand, paying her friends adieu before she goes to rest in her quarters. 

Aang and Sokka look at Chamberlain, who gets close enough to offer them both a bow. They look back at Zuko, who has suddenly completely calmed down. His hands slither to his knees, clenching them tightly. They quickly realize this is his ongoing obligation for the day. Before they knew it, Zuko’s eyes had dimmed, and he had his sight fixed on Chamberlain Minji. 

“We’ll leave you to it, then,” Aang begins first, prompting Sokka and him to rise before making their way out of the room. He looks back at him for a moment, catching his glance. For that moment, Zuko did feel reassured, even if it wasn’t profound. They exchange a nod before the two file out of the room. 

“I wonder who this girl is,” Sokka says quietly, referring to you in his curiosity. He brings his hands to his hair, splitting it into parts to pull opposite of one another. The hair tie goes close to his head, tightening the hold. “I understand that whoever Zuko was fighting did that to her, but I never thought he’d be so mad.” 

Aang shrugs, “he will explain it to us when the time is right. I’m more worried about how he is now, even after getting her to safety.” They slowly walk down the corridor, looking at the paintings ornate around the walls. “But I do agree with where you’re getting at. She seems important to him.” 

Sokka wiggles his eyes, a small, mischievous smile painting his lips, “perhaps a little heir will be running around the palace upon our next visit.” Aang playfully shoves Sokka, who accidentally gets too close to the doors that lead to the training grounds. 

The both of them look at one another before immediately rushing inside.  

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Zuko wasted no time. 

He was now onto the next stage of grief; anger. He looked down at her, forcing an uncomfortable silence. Zuko did not know what to say yet, as he knew he would be full of nothing but vulgar and profane words. He was not even a stretch happy with her, but he had no intention to be cruel to her. After all, she had served his family for a very long time. 

Chamberlain Minji decides to break the silence, “Firelord Zuko.” She proceeds her words with a bow. Master Iroh quickly assumes Zuko’s side, taking a seat while stepping back. After all, this is the duty for the Firelord. Only he can attend to this matter. 

The rain outside begins to pour even harder. “Please explain to me what occurred earlier today,” Zuko requests without hesitation. His amber eyes burned with a frustration, one that Chamberlain Minji had seen directed to others, but never at her. “And I would appreciate you being honest with me here.” 

Chamberlain Minji clears her throat before speaking, “I did what was best for the Fire Nation, something I have been doing for decades, My Lord.” 

“Right, and what is it that you did exactly?” His eyes were so sharp, they could cut. 

“The priority has always been to maintain good relationships with the lords of the Fire Nation,” Chamberlain Minji explains, almost robotically. “A mere servant girl should not be powerful enough to create a rift between a lord and the Firelord.” 

Zuko’s left eye twitched, her words only fueling his anger. “So make this make sense to me,” Zuko begins quietly. “Lord Indra assaulted one of your Ladies in Waiting. So, she was sent to him, unprotected, to do what exactly?” 

She hesitates for a moment, seeing as Zuko was already seething, “...to reconcile,” she says quietly. 

“Reconcile?” He said breathlessly. He couldn’t believe it– he could not believe her. “From what I’m hearing, I seem to understand that you are under the belief that Lady Sai was in the wrong?” 

Chamberlain hesitates for a moment. She long noticed the hole she was digging herself in. But even so, she treks on, “I am only doing what is best for the Fire Nation. You should not be in any conflict with any of our lords, My Lord.” 

“So would you justify Lord Indra’s actions?” Zuko’s patience was being tested. He leaned forward, practically threatening to lunge at her. “Was he right in lashing her back and scarring her for the rest of her life?” 

Though the Ladies in Waiting had already sent whispers all about the Palace regarding your condition, it still made Chamberlain Minji jump. She inhales deeply, “I… did not anticipate Lord Indra doing that to her.” 

“As if it was out of his nature?” Zuko looked at her dumbfounded. “He grabbed and tried to burn her ass.” 

Chamberlain Minji was shocked at his profanity. Even Master Iroh hadn’t heard such vulgarity from his nephew. In fact, he had never seen him so furious since becoming Firelord. Even then, he was not to interrupt, for Zuko was doing what the Firelord must do, even if it was rough. 

“Perhaps all the pomp and circumstance got to his head,” Chamberlain Minji tried to excuse. “You know the lords get very excited when they are together. Having it been such a while, they likely grabbed a drink or two before the meeting.” 

“So I should accept his actions because he was intoxicated?” Zuko squinted at her, unsure if she was genuine with her words. “I should drink an entire bottle and kill people, since it’s clearly excusable.” 

“Th-that’s not…–” 

“One of your staff members was assaulted,” Zuko reiterated, his voice getting louder. The rain sounded like it was hissing now, with thunder making itself known through light rumbling. “Not once, but twice. Do you not repent?” 

Chamberlain Minji felt that regardless, her words will not go through. But, she won’t let up, “Firelord Zuko, I have been serving your family for a good part of my life. Never have I led any Firelord astray, and I do not intend to start today.” 

“And putting someone else's life on the line is part of that commitment?” Zuko challenges. 

“For you, My Lord,” Chamberlain Minji says simply, “but of course.” 

Zuko immediately puts his hand over his face, feeling a headache slowly ensue. “Spirits, forgive me,” he murmured to himself, feeling the frustration begin to climb up his body. His heart beat hastens, as if it intends to jump right out of his chest. “Minji… thank you for all the years of service you have provided for the Fire Nation’s Royal Family.” He practically forced those words between his teeth. 

“M-My Lord?” Unsettlement finally crept up to her, the feeling pooling from her feet and only ascending her body. Her eyes were widened, desperately hanging onto the bit of hope that Zuko would be rational. Unfortunately, she had been completely unaware to the mental warfare that he’s been in since earlier this day. 

“But, I think it is time that I relieve you of your duties,” Zuko says, not a stutter or stammer in sight. His words were clear, and slid off the tongue like butter. “I will allow you time to pack your things, and will send you safely back to your village.” 

Her eyes welled up with horror, “F-Firelord Zuko, you cannot!” 

Zuko looks back at her, with a glare that could seize all warmth from the nation, “I cannot what?” 

She takes a step backwards, fear weaved into the little confidence she could muster. “Firelord Zuko, I… I helped raise you. I watched you grow up, I’ve fed you meals– I have loved you as if you were my very own.” 

Zuko was untouched, “please return to your quarters. When you are ready, let any of these two guards know,” Zuko gestures to 2 of the guards closest to her, “and they will assist you in getting a ship ready to take you back home safely.” 

Chamberlain Minji held onto the skirt of her robes, her hands shaking uncontrollably, “y-you cannot do this, Firelord Zuko– I have sworn the rest of my life to serve you and the Royal Family!” 

Zuko lets out a disappointed sigh, “and again, I thank you for everything you have done for me. But, I cannot allow someone who is willing to put her own staff on the line.” 

“I did not know Lord Indra was going to do that to her!” She exclaims, a cry so visceral that it might have even triggered sympathy from you, had you been awake and present. 

“Was all the punishments I issued him unclear?” A light coat of smoke began to outline Zuko’s body, his anger triggering his fire bending. His body was so emotionally driven that even his own bending was reactive. “He was a danger to my staff, and I did not want him near any of the women who serve this Palace.” 

“Please, Zuko!” Tears began to stream down her face as she fell to her knees. Her hands were cemented to the floor, and her whimpers were beating out the sound of the rain. “Please, I beg you!” 

“Firelord Zuko,” he corrected her before another heavy sigh escaped his lips. His headache was only getting worse. “Do not dare disrespect me or you will live the rest of your life regretting it.” 

She wept aggressively, unable to comprehend what was happening to her. All her decades of service were completely stripped of her by some girl who had come around only recently. A girl with no manners, whose only skill is to make tea of all things. A girl who has never truly served. “A-all this for her? That stupid girl?” 

It hurt him just a bit to do this to her, but he had no choice. Zuko could not permit someone like this to work and have as much control as she did in the way the Palace was run and maintained. With both hands rested on his lap, he relaxes his body and recollects himself. 

“You are dismissed,” he says simply. The two assigned guards walk to Chamberlain Minji’s side, offering her hands so she could stand back up again. “Dinner will be brought to your quarters, but you will not be permitted to walk around the Palace if not for necessity and not without escort.” 

Chamberlain Minji rises from the ground, but holds her sight on Zuko. She studies his face, the anger in his honey eyes. His cheeks were from, likely heated from his own anger. But, she was familiar with such a look, and behavior. It was finally clicking to her, and she looked at him, appalled. “You are not the Firelord you were meant to be.” 

Zuko lifts his eyebrows, surprised at her audacity, “Oh? Then maybe I should change your punishment and have you arrested beside my father instead. Perhaps you can both discuss in agreement what a Firelord ‘should be.’”

“Zuko.” 

His uncle finally chimed in. Master Iroh had no intention to interrupt him, as he was performing the duties of the Firelord. For years, his uncle prayed that he would find his way, and uncover a peace within himself. But, even he knew that being the Firelord still required some aggression, though he wanted Zuko to lead with kindness. 

But, this was stepping into the territory of cruelty, and he did not want his nephew to follow his predecessors footsteps. 

Zuko, now being brought back to reality by his uncle, nodded and waved Chamberlain Minji away. “Leave, before I change my mind.” 

With that, a trail of tears followed her as she was escorted out of the throne room. A silence ensued, with only the rainstorm to fill in the space. Zuko once again planted his face in his hand, his only wish at the moment to drink a cup of your delicious tea. But here he was, angry, tired, and every feeling in between. 

“Zuko, it is okay to be upset,” Iroh begins, bringing a hand to his nephews shoulder. “You are permitted to feel how you feel and act on it. But, there is a clear line between acting out of anger and acting out of malice.” 

He couldn’t dare to look up at his uncle. In the mix of his feelings, there was shame, embarrassment, and guilt. Zuko was certain that should he meet his uncle's gaze, his sight would be impaired by tears. 

“I just…” Zuko speaks, his tone shaky and voice muffled by his hand. “I don’t know what I’m doing…” 

Master Iroh knew better than his nephew why he was feeling the way he felt. There was a reason why he had chosen you to be Zuko’s attendant, with no guarantee that what he wanted to happen would happen. But seeing Zuko’s behavior after the awful thing that has happened to you, it was clear exactly what was going on. 

“I will assume Madam Minji’s place in managing the staff and the Palace,” Master Iroh begins quietly. He was old, sure, but he was not going to allow his nephew to do everything on his own. “You need to finalize the situation with Lord Indra, send a scroll out to his clan informing him, and then come out for dinner.” 

Zuko could only sigh, frustrated with the situation and himself. But, there was truly nothing more he could do today. The day has gone, the moon was taking night shift for the sun, and the things he needed to do have been done. 

“You did good, nephew,” Master Iroh reassures him, patting him on the shoulder. “I am so, so proud of you. Remember how many massive obstacles you have conquered, and grand achievements you’ve been able to reach.” 

He couldn’t accept such praise from a man he knew he could never be better than. He uncovers his face, looking up at his uncle with a broken expression. “Uncle, I…” he begins quietly, his voice cracking a bit. 

“I love you, Zuko,” Master Iroh reminds him, giving him yet another smile before beginning his stride out of the room. “Nothing will change that.” 

With that, Master Iroh exits the room, leaving Zuko to himself and his thoughts. 

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Master Iroh noticed the wind was picking up. 

In the midst of the tension with his nephew handling business as the Firelord, there was an unusual gust in the air. It was the middle of the year, which meant the expectation for the air was to be muggy and unkind. But, this breeze was uncharacteristic for Capital City, which forced Master Iroh to look up in the air to investigate. 

Lo and behold, his suspicions were spot on. A red and yellow flash flies through the air, making its way to the town square. Master Iroh immediately recognizes that flying device, and immediately lets out a long sigh. The Avatar was not to come so soon, Master Iroh thought. But it always seems to happen that way. 

The sound of velocity quickly goes silent, and a pair of feet carefully make their way to the ground. A staff plants down to the ground, and the source of the wind stood tall before Master Iroh. The reason for such trivial air had entered the scene, grabbing your attention immediately. Not so much by his flight, but by that unique blue arrow that expanded at each of his limbs. 

You had never seen an Airbender in person, let alone the Avatar, but in all this pomp and circumstance, you couldn’t help but stare in awe. Even his clothes rightfully fit his being, seeing those floaty garments resemble the scheme of a sunrise. He was hope incarnate, with power that people could only associate with divinity. 

Though rumor has it that the Avatar himself forgets he is who he is. 

Everyone near Master Iroh and the Avatar immediately bow, loud whispers entering the space. Master Iroh gives him his hand, in which Aang immediately takes it. A firm handshake was then followed by a heartfelt hug. “It has been quite some time, Aang,” Master Iroh says quietly, “I was informed of your coming, but did not realize you’d come so quickly.” 

Aang gently pulls away, a sheepish smile painted at his lips. “We didn’t think we’d get here so soon,” he admitted, scratching the back of his head, “But Sokka incentivised Appa a bit too much, and we ended up traveling overnight.” 

Master Iroh grins, “well, it is good to see you. I apologize we could not provide a more formal welcome, but the Firelord is currently attending to an obligation.” 

Aang diverts his attention to the scene, with the locals following suit. Lord Zuko was already stanced, his eyes refusing to leave Lord Indra’s sight. But, his focus does get disturbed when the roar of a familiar being erupted in the sky. 

Looking up, he notices one of his esteemed guests: a 6-legged, flying bison of times unknown to the present. Appa, with an upgraded saddle, slowed his flight, finding a space near Aang to take his landing. The locals were overwhelmed with everything happening, unsure where to divert their attention. Even your tune could not steady from everything going on. It almost made you forget the pain of your wound. 

Aang offers a hand to a beautiful, fawn-skinned woman, whose hair would contest Lord Zuko’s. She was dressed appropriately for the weather, with a light blue tube top following a long, darker blue skirt. She carefully gets to the ground, her blue eyes immediately welled with concern. She, like you, was fixed at the scene, seeing Lord Zuko and Lord Indra at a stand still. 

She quickly rushes to Master Iroh, her hand immediately finding his own, “what is going on here?” She exclaims, searching desperately in his face for an answer. 

Following her, another woman, shorter and pearl-skilled, came into view. The two had matched it seemed, as she, too, was adorned with a light green tube top and alternatively, a flowy sage pair of pants. But this woman had eye-grabbing features, with her structured abs and gray eyes. From what it looks like, she must be blind, but she walked like she already had the world mapped in her head. 

Finally, a man who had to be related to the first woman jumped off of the bison on his own accord, his own body evidently toned with his more open attire. His linens were of a dark cyan, and covered his entire body besides his arms, which let you know how fit the man was. His hair was shaved at the sides, with only a ponytail to offer as a sight of hair. But with the way it was tied, you knew he was of a more traditional water tribe. 

These foreign characters had entered the scene, and you could only host questions in your mind while you refocused on Lord Zuko. You had prayed that it would never come to this, but with his apology, you knew that there was nothing you could do. You had asked him to give Lord Indra mercy the first time, but there was no good argument to give mercy again. 

Lord Indra has decided to play yet another bad hand. 

Master Iroh bows at the rest of the group while holding onto Katara’s hand, “it is exactly what you believe it is.” 

Katara’s eyes widened with horror, her body unconsciously pulling away to rush to Lord Zuko. But Master Iroh keeps his hold on her, keeping her back, “he can’t! It’s been abolished, this is not to be!” 

Sokka walks over to Master Iroh, placing a gentle hand on one of his shoulders, “is this…?” 

“Agni Kai,” Aang says simply, folding his arms in front of his chest, “I remember Zuko’s first plan was to get rid of such tradition to begin restoring the Fire Nation.” Though, it definitely surprised the Avatar to see its untimely return. 

“Never thought I’d see one in person,” Sokka says, practically breathless from the tension. “The closest we’ve gotten to such a scenario was Katara’s experience.” 

“--and that should have been the last!” Katara’s emotions were held right in her words, her eyes welling up with tears. “Zuko, please don’t do this!” Her cries erupted the scene, having Lord Zuko look over at her. 

He felt for her, he truly did. He knew since being made aware of your absence that he would be doing this. But, he absolutely was not accounting for his dearest friends to arrive so soon. Not that it would have changed his plans of doing this. His feelings could not be calmed, and the need to follow through with what happened to you needed to be sated. 

But meeting eyes with Katara messed him up a bit. She brought Lord Zuko back to his prior Agni Kai with his sister, recalling how fatal that fight would have been if Katara had not been there. She was a living, necessary reminder not to become the monsters that wanted to erase his existence. 

But, Katara would never understand what this meant for him, why this was so important. 

He looks back at Lord Indra, his hands completely open and closely guarded at his face, “you can make the first move, if you’d like.” 

Lord Indra scoffs, an anxious smirk playing at his lips, “how generous of the Firelord to allow me the first strike.” Right then, Lord Indra angles his head towards the sky and screams, a brutal and blistering flame emitting from his mouth. Veins protrude aggressively from his neck, with a few struggling at his temples. 

During his performative build up, Lord Zuko closed his eyes and took a very deep breath in. He could feel the air reach the very ends of his lungs, his stomach slightly denting inwards. Toph felt this at her feet, loosening her usually crossed arms. When she feels him let out his breath, a smile tickles her lips. 

“You don’t need to worry too much,” Toph hums quietly, mainly directing her words towards Katara. “If the old man isn’t worried, we shouldn’t be worried.” 

Katara’s tears were calming, but her body language seemed inconsolable, “but what if–” 

“There is no ‘what if,’” Toph interrupts her, confidence bleeding through her words, “Zuko clears. You should be more worried about the other guy.” 

Their conversation fizzes away when the first strike of fire gets shot. Lord Indra’s fist was pointed towards Lord Zuko, emitting a bright orange flame that spiraled in its launch to the Firelord. He quickly reopens his eyes and just barely moves to the side, having the fire miss him entirely. 

And the fight had quickly structured itself like so. Lord Indra through fire relentlessly, with Lord Zuko dodging them every which way. There was something poetic about his movements, as if he was in tune with the fire that did not come from his own bending. It was right then that Master Iroh realized his nephew had truly grown up. 

From such an aggressively, uncontrollable child to a man whose biggest fear is losing his way. Lord Zuko learned a lot from his traumatic childhood, considering his power-hungry father and his deranged sister. But seeing him now, his power fully realized and in his complete control, Master Iroh no longer had to hold his breath.

His nephew was the man he wished he had been at his age. 

Every movement Lord Zuko did no longer felt like he was dodging. It was like he could predict every one of Lord Indra’s moves. He was unphased, seeing as Lord Indra’s movements were a little too predictable. His foe began to notice, sweat becoming evident on his face and body. “You’re quick on your feet, boy!” Lord Indra shouts, heavy panting following his words. “Scared you’ll get another scar?” 

The Firelord ignores his words, maintaining his stance while anticipating his next attack. Lord Indra smirks, beaming fire towards Lord Zuko’s feet. It did take him by surprise, sure, but if he’s learned anything while being around his friends, it's that your movement is the foundation to your body’s ability to fight. 

Aang, Katara, and Sokka could not believe their eyes. Their dear friend, who is in a different class in terms of fire bending, was practically moving like a Kyoshi warrior. And truth be told, the credit must go to Suki and Toph for teaching Zuko how to truly fight with his body. He was agile, overly aware of his surroundings and how Lord Indra fights. 

Last time he recalled, Lord Indra was a dirty fighter. 

The bearded man progressively got closer to Lord Zuko, using these small bursts of fire shot towards his feet to distract him of this tactic. And it did almost catch him a few times, the heat of his fire just itching to simply graze his toes. But it felt good to stretch his muscles, as he had been doing more administrative work as the Firelord than any sort of fighting or defending. 

It was almost exhilarating. Lord Zuko continued to dodge these flame-charged attacks, and decided to start deflecting them. Lord Indra was surprised when Lord Zuko finally drew his own fire, but was disappointed at his continued insistence to defend. “Why don't you try and strike me?” Lord Indra questions, “are you afraid you will miss?” 

Lord Zuko lets his fire disappear in the air, his chest heaving desperately for air, “the opposite, actually.” 

Lord Indra stops completely, also taking the opportunity to breathe, “then why… did a softie like you… agree to such a duel?” 

“Doesn’t matter now,” Lord Zuko says simply, his hands now fists, and lifted up to his face. He eyes him curiously, “sounds like you want to get hit already, Indra.” 

Lord Indra’s smirk was beginning to sicken him, he realized. You, too, were feeling some sort of nausea. Little did you know that it was caused by something adjacent. “An eye for an eye, no?” He boasts, glancing towards you after his words. “Though, you might need to put in more effort.” 

Lord Zuko lifts his eyebrow, their standstill feeling a little too long for comfort. “That girl didn’t lie… her body is quite opposed to fire… I had to strike her a few times to even get anywhere.” 

There it was, the ripping of the thread that kept Lord Zuko from cracking. His pupils immediately dilated, his mind processing Lord Indra’s confession. Face goes pale, and his arms begin to tremble in the anger he had been trying to keep down. But, when he glances over to look at you, and how truly shocking it was that you were able to get back to your feet, he understands something critical. 

Just for this moment, his rational mind must be abandoned. 

Not that he had a choice, really. His controlled chaos ran free, his tame vexation bursting into a wrath he’d never thought he’d ever see. Resentment driven by the guilt of not preventing this. He unravels his hands, fire struggling to maintain itself bursted out of his palms. Without another thought, he immediately begins to throw his own fire at Lord Indra, earning a struggling dodge from him. 

It felt like he had been on autopilot. His bending controlled him, fire coming out without him completely willing him. His rage was palpable, seeing as his amber eyes almost looked black. Flashes of you, trembling in a corner, subjected to a torture you did not deserve or had to go through. 

“You… assault my attendant,” Lord Zuko growls, his fire turning itself to a whip as it lashes side to side, forcing Lord Indra to jump around to avoid even the sparks of his flames. “You disregard my instructions…” Bits of ember crackle near his mouth at his words, something that was occurring completely unconscious and unbeknownst to Lord Zuko. 

He throws several bursts of flame towards Lord Indra, overwhelming him to the point where Lord Zuko gets right to his face. It was then that Lord Indra met with this sinister look, his eyes devoid of all previously kind and willing Firelord. Completely stunned by Lord Zuko’s swiftness, Lord Indra could only use his fire behind him, using it to push off the ground in the attempts to keep himself from falling. 

Lord Zuko grabs hold of his beard, and without another thought, sets it ablaze. Hair crumbles into ash, with Lord Indra frantically patting at the flame to stop it from going towards his face. But he does not stop there. “You disrespect my uncle…” Lord Zuko felt static emerge from his inner core, that feeling uncontrollably spreading through his limbs. 

A moment of rationale entered through him, but it was far too late. Aang was the first to notice, as deep, dim gray clouds emerged in the sky. The puffs of water loom over Capital City, its threats of rain imminent. Without his bidding, jagged streaks of lightning flashed around Lord Zuko’s body. And he felt this, as it swarmed his arms and webbed like a shattered mirror around his hands. 

Lord Indra had never actually seen lightning in a fire bender's control. Like most of the world, lightning was a level of fire bending that was rare, considering how difficult it was to control it. Even now, as it courses through Lord Zuko’s body, its nature is so sporadic and uncertain. Lord Indra was in awe, and somewhat admiration despite the midst of his fight with the Firelord. 

You yourself were in awe, but it was a sort of admiration laced with fear. Lightning was infamously used for very aggressive attacks, despite its requirement to be at peace with yourself to even hone it. But seeing its powerful sparks surround Lord Zuko’s body, you truly got to see the power of a Firelord. 

Every groove and dent of his muscles were being illuminated, showcasing the work and effort of the Firelord after all this time. His chiseled body was a testament to mental warfare and pushing the bounds of maximum physical capacity. That tranquil chaos was threatening to open its own cage as you saw Lord Zuko’s conviction ornate in his eyes. 

But, even in Lord Zuko’s rampage, he knew better than to unleash all of his cards to someone as unworthy as Lord Indra. 

His lightning quickly fizzles away, replaced quickly with his flames. He shoots several bursts at Lord Indra’s feet, forcing him to dodge. But, he loses a beat in his tune, and falls on his rear. In desperation, Lord Indra throws cheap shots at him, bursts of struggling flames only being met with the air. 

A feeble fist aims at Lord Zuko’s face, with an ember developing at the very tips of Lord Indra’s knuckles. But, Lord Zuko simply slapped it away, allowing the flames to shoot towards absolute nothingness. Without hesitation, he opens his hands wide, palms facing down to the ground. Orange and blue flames pour out to the ground before quickly rising, forming some sort of barrier to entrap the two. 

You couldn’t believe it; Lord Zuko had blocked their fight from all sight. 

Even the hiss of the flames did not allow for any sound to be heard from the two. It was like Lord Zuko had taken them to a different dimension. Within it’s heated walls, he crouches down, just above Lord Indra’s eye level. His dark hair pours all down, but parted to expose Lord Zuko’s entire face. 

He was still not satisfied. 

Lord Indra pants feverishly, barely catching up to his own breaths and the rapidness of his beating heart. His body was exhausted, his flames completely smothered. Even he knew that physical combat was not a possibility, considering how much energy Lord Zuko still had. Lightning returns to his hands, the sparks illuminating Lord Indra’s face. 

“...and now you’ve gone and admitted to your inhumane acts on my attendant,” Lord Zuko’s tone was the darkest it's ever been. Not even his father could have conjured this sort of feeling from him. “If you already did not know, you will be put away for the rest of your life. But first…” his amber orbs fall to Lord Indra’s hands, “show them to me.” 

Lord Indra, finally at the end of his own demented tirade, quickly weaves his hands together, “Firelord Zuko, I am in no place to ask for any cent of mercy,” Lord Indra says sheepishly, “but, please… anywhere else….”

Many moments pass, and only a few guards begin to approach their boss's impenetrable barrier. But when they are just inches away, the fire dies out, and becomes a dark gray smoke. You search desperately for Lord Zuko, who was standing still, his arms now firmly at his sides. When you take a look over at Lord Indra, he was reduced to nothing, completely silenced after his confidence finally died down. 

But before you get to see the conclusion of it all, you begin to get dizzy. 

Guards, without any instruction, immediately take Lord Indra. “Try to be gentle with him,” Lord Zuko says quietly, attempting not to lace his words with taunt. “And summon a doctor for him when you bring him to his cell.” Lord Indra was quiet, his hands shaking after the striking he had received. A burn from lightning slashed whole on both of his palms, and they quickly blistered by the second. 

“Understood, Firelord Zuko!” Guards follow his instructions, carefully bringing Lord Indra to his feet. Only the Avatar truly understood this, albeit it was not quite the same. To burn or maim one's hands is to temporarily mute one's bending. As opposed to Aang, who is able to get rid of someone's bending completely. 

Before Lord Zuko could truly relax and greet his friends properly, another guard from the opposite side quickly beckons him. “Firelord Zuko, Lady Sai has gone unconscious!” How interesting that such a few words could bring back his used up energy. His eyes widen, narrowing down at your still state, your body completely pale. 

If it's not one thing, it must be another. 

His friends watch as he desperately dashes to you, his feet burning against the hard ground at his speed. He looks at you, bringing his hands to touch your face. So cold… he thought to himself. You were just warm moments ago when your face found home in the crook of his neck. Before they even move, Lord Zuko let out a visceral shout, one that even the neighboring islands could hear. 

“Katara, I need you!” He shouts, refusing to lose sight of you. His hands began to tremble, worry consuming his body completely. His once hot, exhausted body was now filled with this anxious adrenaline. Guilt was starting to seep in, and his fears began to exaggerate his concerned thoughts. “Please, now!” 

As unhappy as Katara was, if Zuko was begging for assistance, she knew it was serious. As the rest of them followed suit, Toph was the first to notice your heart beat had been slowing down. “Katara, you might need to go a little faster– that girl isn’t sounding too hot.” 

“Come here,” Aang says simply, grabbing Katara by her waist before conjuring a ball of air beneath them. He makes haste, rushing the two across the square to meet with their dear friend. Katara was frantic, looking at Zuko’s pale face while also trying to get a good look at you. 

“Where’s the problem?” Katara urges, seeking immediate answers. 

“Her back,” Zuko spills quickly, “on her b-back.” She had never heard Zuko sound so scared before. “He- he burned her.” 

Now up to speed with your condition, Katara quickly (and as carefully as she could) moved your body to the side, and then flipped you over. She enters the cart, carefully not to get on top of you or worsen your state. “It’s too hot out here— we need to go inside!” Katara instructs, pulling at Zuko’s robes that he lent you to cover up. She pulls out her water skin, bends out just a small whip of water, and immediately cuts the expensive fabric.

Zuko looks at his guards, pure agitation in his voice, “the fuck are you waiting for? Take them to the palace now!” Toph and Sokka even flinched at his sharp tongue, as it has been so long since he’s been so aggressive. 

Sokka and Aang assist the guards, carrying the cart up the stairs to the palace. Katara, on the other hand, felt her anxiety hike when seeing your burn. The fabric stuck a little too much into your wound, forcing Katara to practically peel it off of you. “H-how long ago did this happen?” Katara asks Zuko while she bends out more water. 

Zuko’s mind went blank for a moment, as he could only dedicate his focus and eyes to you. But he realizes the situation, and says slowly, “a few hours…” 

“A few hours!?” Katara was stunned. She wanted to lecture him on declaring an Agni Kai instead of getting you to a doctor first. But, there was no time for that. You were now her patient, and she can only prioritize you at this moment. She stares down at the blistering, the red outline to your struggling burnt skin. “I just… I can help, but she will not be without a scar.” 

“Katara,” Zuko’s voice changed, a tone so desperate that she was pretty sure he was going to burst into tears, “Please.” 

She sees it in his eyes, this desperation so fierce that it could cut someone. He looked exhausted, anxious, guilty, and depressed all in one go. Katara lets out a deep sigh, accepting the grueling task before her. She immediately presses the water down to your skin, coating the wound completely before allowing the water to glow. 

As they approached the final steps, those gray clouds finally decided to cry, and rain immediately began to pour down. Katara seized the opportunity, and freed one hand to acquire some of the rain water. Aang watches as she grabs a handful of the rain water before adding it to the water treating your back. 

“Do you want us to slow down so you can grab more?” Aang offers, holding up the cart effortlessly on his side. 

“And can you grab it super fast so we can put this cart down?” Sokka struggles out, his arms threatening to give out from the weight of his side of the cart. Although the rain cooled his body, he wasn’t anticipating a work out. 

Toph rolled her eyes before offering one arm of assistance where Sokka had his hold, “all that muscle for what?” She teases him briefly, not wanting to make too much of a joke, considering the tension. 

“I have enough, do not worry,” Katara hums, giving them the green light to force their way inside the Palace. As they enter, several Waiting Ladies were stunned at the scene, eyes wide to see a group of the strongest people in the world. 

“Katara, what do you need?” Zuko immediately bursts out, “we will get you every resource known to the spirits.” 

She looks down at your back, seeing the charred skin twitch at her healing. She lets out a deep sign before refocusing, “I need a bed, a basin of water, cloths, bandages, some remedial herbs.” She moves around the water, wanting to make sure the rain water had made its way to all of your wounds. 

“Take her to Lady Sai’s bedroom,” Zuko instructs, with more guards taking Aang, Sokka, and Toph’s place in holding the makeshift carriage. “Guarantee their safety. Whatever Katara or Lady Sai needs will be given to them– it doesn’t matter what it is. Do you all understand me?” 

“Yessir!” The guards say in unison, hastening their speed as they drive off with you and Katara. 

Silence quickly ensues, and Zuko is finally broken. Without another thought, he got to his knees, staring off distantly at the cart that was no longer visible. You were no longer visible, and fighting something that could've been avoided– no, should have been avoided. He brings his hands to his head, his fingers digging between his hair. He diverts his eyes to the ground, his sight aimless. 

Sokka and Aang join him on the ground, supportive hands holding his shoulders. Toph joined them, crossing her legs on the floor as she faced Zuko head on. “Hey,” she begins quietly, her voice still a bit jovially aggressive. “You’ve been acting tough for too long anyway. Stop it and let it out already.” 

And with that, the Firelord, after many years, has finally let go, the collected tears in his eyes finally streaming down his face. 

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Your mind had long shut down from reality. 

Your mind brought you back home, back to mom and dad. Your mothers warm, welcoming arms that cuddle your coiled body. Your father in the kitchen, drenched in sweat while he happily makes your favorite fried eggs with scallion. The aromas of freshly picked herbs, the sounds of content chatter, the clinking of tea cups. It was all coming back in your time of need. 

But then you’re pulled back into reality, surrounded by caring hands moments after getting tainted. Your back seared, the scent of cooking flesh nauseating you completely. The women stand guard around you, attempting to shield you from any further harm as you are carefully seated and balanced on a nearby stool. 

Visceral cries and wails escaped your lips while the other woman tried easing your pain. Two cold, hard objects met your back, and you suddenly felt bittersweet relief. It was not much, but it was just enough to quiet your bawls. They offer supportive hands, but you couldn’t stand touch at the moment. 

It was strange; you wanted to be left alone but not by yourself. As the ice temporarily numbed the burning on your back, you couldn’t help but feel so vulnerable. You were so exposed, not just in clothing, but in your feelings. Tears couldn’t stay in your eyes, and you wept as if you were in your room, isolated. 

It was selfish to think that Lord Zuko would come to get you, to save you from the hell you were living. But Lord Indra had cemented your reality: you were nothing. A mere servant girl, someone worth the same value as a cabbage. The same way you were hired was the same way you could be exiled. 

You are not special. 

Before you have been many women, holding the same kettle you hold, pouring tea into the cups that have met a plethora of hands before your own. Your quarters were long slept on by other lives, body resting in the covers you’ve now assumed. And you are definitely not the first woman who has touched Lord Zuko’s hand like you did last night. 

Your feelings were growing more numb by the second. Your once hastened heart steadied, and you finally closed your eyes. You were tired, but you knew you were not to get rest. Not now, and probably not for the next while. There was something shattered inside you, something that you knew could never be repaired to the way it was. 

The women try to coo soothing words, offering sweet nothings and reassuring you that it did not look too bad. But the fact that it existed was a problem that you don’t think you’ll get over. And, what broke your heart more was that you were set up for this fate by Madam Minji, the very Chamberlain tasked to run and maintain the Firelord’s palace. 

You were offered water left and right, those efforts only being in vain. Parched is far from what you were. And you felt bad, rejecting the kindness of these women who have not met you before. You prayed their kindness will be well received by the spirits, but you yourself could not accept it. 

Desperate footsteps sounded from the end of the narrow hall. You were whisked away to the back of the bar, so evidently you were surrounded by shelves of food, barrels full of beer, and a closet with cleaning tools. This was, for the most part, the safest you’ve been the whole day. But it further reiterated the lack of worth you had. 

When Lord Indra decided to mar your back, you’d thought that those surrounding you would take action in your stead. Instead, you were met with surprised eyes that then proceeded in smirks and laughter. Lord Indra had long explained what happened the night before, painting you as an inconvenient, worthless servant. 

“Not so fire proof now, eh?” His words continue to mock you. 

Sitting in your own nothingness, you couldn’t stop your tears from flowing. Your eyes were probably red, puffing up with every moment passing. The women realized that their soothing tactics were useless, and allowed you to find solace in silence. They continued to press the ice against your back, at least putting some relief in the situation. 

Then, the boasting and chit chats from outside went suspiciously quiet. One voice, muffled and distant, claimed the space of sound, followed by the sounds of stomping and thuds. You couldn’t put too much stock in it, considering your mind was being tortured by the unwelcomed mark on your back. 

But, new footsteps made themselves known, and halted in the room you were in. Perhaps another waitress, you thought to yourself. You glance back, met with the amber eyes you had been longing for. Unfortunately, you couldn’t even muster a smile, albeit the relief of seeing a familiar face. As your nails claw into your arms, you lift your head a bit, and in a hush tone, you speak out, “Zuko…” 

His amber eyes, suddenly so dark and hollow, held a sort of distraught you’d never seen before. The waitresses moved away, like a rock being thrown at a flock of geese. The soothing ice was suddenly removed from your back, and you could see Lord Zuko break before you. 

You look away, too ashamed, too embarrassed. You were already shy enough in your new linens, but it pained you to have him see you so weak. He murmurs something that you could not catch, and you watch as the women slowly begin to exit the room around you. You felt the ice against your back shift a bit, but the motions were delicate and did not further agitate you. 

The scent of mint suddenly entered your sense of smell, and you knew Lord Zuko had closed the space between you. Your eyes were met with his shoes and his knees, seeing as he crouched down a bit to meet your level. Looking up, you were inches away from the Firelord. 

Browned honey eyes stare back into your own, burning through your tough facade. His sharp nose was centimeters from yours, with his hair completely disheveled. Strands were stuck against his face, which was shiny and ornate with a light sheen of sweat. It looked like he ran over here. You realized pretty quickly the reason for why he was so close to you. 

His right arm was extended and bending around you, cautious not to touch you at all. His large, veiny hand held the pieces of clothed ice that brought alleviation to your wound. He was careful not to apply too much pressure, but continued to mimic the hold that the two waitresses had previously. 

“You… came for me,” you whispered, still in disbelief at his presence before you. It felt like you were dreaming, just for that moment. You felt like crying even more, though you were pretty sure your body was all cried-out. 

Lord Zuko does not crack a smile, but his voice is the softest it's ever been, “of course I came for you. Why wouldn’t I have?”

You felt your insecurities fester, and for a moment, you wanted to push Lord Zuko away. His kindness, his sweet words, his gentle touch. You did not deserve such gifts. You did not deserve such efforts, especially with someone as excellent as him. 

“‘m s-so s-sorry to t-t-trouble you,” you begin to stammer, tears somehow finding its way out of you once again. Nails dig deeper into your arms, the smell of blood fuzzying your brain. “I just… I don’t…” 

It killed him to hear you so aimless. But he couldn’t yet give you the comfort you deserve. Not until Lord Indra got what he deserved first. 

“y/n, you have nothing to apologize for,” Lord Zuko says quietly. A pang of guilt shot at his heart when hearing your apology in such a broken voice. “In fact, I should be the one apologizing to you.”

You look down again, shaking your head, “n-no, this is not your f-fault, Zuko. He’s just…he…” 

He quickly brought his free hand to your face, hovering his finger over your lips. “I know,” he says quietly, taking in your sorrows as his own. “I swear it to you, I will make this right.” 

You finally break, and relieve your arms from the hold of your hands. You bring your hands to Lord Zuko’s chest, clinging onto his nicely tethered robes. “Don’t, please. I am n-not worth another conflict.” 

He looks at your desperate eyes, which could have made him fold the way they did the night before. But he was no longer in his rational mind. It was useless to him during times like this. He ignores your plea, and looks at your body. 

“Can you walk?” He asks, a twinge of hope in his words.

Your eyes scan the floor, “I can b-but… straightening my back hurts a bit, and without the ice, it might suck even more.” 

A bit was an understatement. But you cannot be blamed for wanting to hold onto as much dignity as you could. He takes in your words and pauses for a moment. “Alright,” he says simply. With his free hand, he gently guides your arms to his shoulders. “Hold onto me.” 

“H-hey, this isn’t necessar–” 

“I was not asking you,” Lord Zuko pressed on. “Hold onto me.” 

You quiet down and do as you’re told. Your hands latch onto him, your shaky hands meeting with his warm, smooth skin. Albeit it wasn’t too smooth, considering his body was ornate with scars in all sorts of sizes. But it was comforting somehow, despite how embarrassing this was for you. 

With one fell swoop, his free arm scoops you out of the stool, allowing you to sit safely on his forearm. His other arm continued to support your back, with the ice melting quickly between your severed back and his large hand. Streams of cold water ran down your back, drenching the very dip of your back where the dress continued. 

Feeling shy once again, you dig your face in the crook of his neck. 

Little did you know what this was doing to him. It was enough that your skin touched his this way, feeling your heart race against his chest. But it was another that his finger tips felt the soft and tenderness of your undamaged back while keeping the relieving ice against your burn. Your face digging into his neck sent shutters down his spine, briefly taking him out of his rage to indulge in you. 

You still smelled so sweet, like the chamomile you’d given him during his sleepless episodes. Your hair tickled his collarbones and shoulders, but they were just as soft as you. Then, to make matters worse, you had instinctively wrapped your legs around him, securing your hold on him. 

It didn’t quite crack him, but you were getting damn near close without trying. 

“W-wait,” you suddenly spoke, your hot breath forcing goosebumps to rise from his neck. “You cannot come out holding me like this. You are Firelord Zuko. You are not to be carrying a s-servant like this.” 

“And?” He was unimpressed by your point. “I am the Firelord– I dare someone to tell me what I can or can’t do.”

You remain quiet after this, your face remaining in his neck. You knew better than to get this comfortable with him, but at this point, it could not be helped. You were safe in his arms, in his care. You knew nothing more would happen to you as he was here, present, and attempting to help ease your pains. 

He takes a seat in the stool you were sitting in, making you a bit more timid as you were now adjusted to sit on his lap. You move back a bit, facing him directly now. “O-oh, Lord Zuko, this isn’t formal–” 

“y/n, you dropped the formalities when you addressed me earlier,” he reminds you, a small smile printed on his lips. “Are formalities really important right now?” 

You accept his point. You move back a bit more, still clinging to his neck, while eyeing his hair. You giggled through your trembling lips and shaky body, “y-your hair looks awful…” 

“Yeah?” He smirked at your refreshing change in attitude. You really were tougher than you gave yourself credit for. “It was supposed to be done by someone else.” 

You sheepishly look away, “w-well, I hope they were gentle at least…” 

You knew him too well, “...she did her best.” Immediately, you both erupt in quiet laughter. Lord Zuko felt your tension ease up a bit, the shakiness dulling just a bit. It was small progress, but he’ll take whatever he can get. “There’s a bun, so it is enough.” 

“That’s extremely bare minimum,” you note in between giggles, “but I appreciate you still giving her credit.” 

He smiles warmly before his entire expression falls stern. His amber eyes once again dim, with a sweet voice turned grim. He lets out a very deep sigh, “we’re going to leave this shithole now. Are you okay with seeing him again? Or would you rather I remove him from sight first?” 

You were pensive for a moment, but then gave him a curt smile, “I am with you. Lord Indra is nothing to me so long as you are present.” But you quickly grab at the collar of his garment, keeping his gaze on you. “But… I’d like to try to stand and walk on my own.” 

He does not deny you, “are you sure?” His words were coated with worry. “You do not need to force yourself.” 

You shook your head, “I need to keep some dignity, if I can.” 

He understands your words a little too well, and silently agrees. He carefully puts the clothed ice down, which was now just a sopping wet cloth. He slowly lets go of his hold on you, following your pace to become independent of his help. Lord Zuko feels your relentless struggle, the way your hands pushed down some weight in his forearms. Even then, he had no intention to let you down. 

Carefully, your feet find themselves on the ground. The skirt of your silk dress flows down, wrinkles ornate all over as evidence of your day. You were still bent over a bit, your nerves hiking up as you slowly straightened yourself. Lord Zuko laments hearing your hisses as the burn on your back takes uncomfortably to your movements. 

“Do you need me to do anything?” He quietly offers, his arms barely needing to flex to hold your weight. 

You shake your head, “‘m fine, it just stings so much…” 

Lord Zuko hums at your words, feeling his heart burn from your wincing. His calloused hands take hold of your own forearms, securing your place as you adjust to being back on your feet. You straightened up, but it still wasn’t quite normal. You could feel the burn writhe from the bend of your spine. You stood still, allowing yourself the time to get used to the feeling. 

A few shaky sighs escape your lips as you adjust yourself to the new feeling in your body. Standing up as straight as your body was willing, you begin to wipe your dress. Lord Zuko quickly looks away as your fingers pull at the thin straps that hung from your body. You quietly giggle to yourself at his respectfulness towards you as you adjust your dress as best you can. 

“You can look now,” you give him the OK. Following your words was a long sigh, as you looked down at your revealing dress. “...I feel exposed,” you admit in a blunt tone, looking down at your body. 

Lord Zuko looks at you with sympathetic eyes, wishing nothing more than to disappear you from this place and get you to safety. But, you were safe, now that you were in his sight and reach. But his sympathy quickly turned to guilt, as those amber orbs analyzed the divots and curves of your body. The dip of your exposed back, the tender skin of your arms, and even your delicate hands were doing something to him. 

“Spirits, forgive me,” he whispered under his tongue. Then, you watched as his hands made their way to his back, pulling at the strings of his waist band. The dark brown garment proceeds to fall to the ground, the binding strings sprawled about on the floor. Then goes the deep red tunic, its gold trimmings randomly shining from the light of the torches that surrounded you. Then, you watch as he begins to pull off the sleeves of his taupe inner robe. 

This was the first time you had truly seen his physique. It was a sin to keep such a body hidden away as much as he hides it. The first thing your eyes latched onto was his prominent, well-defined chest that dented along the well developed muscles. Broad shoulders and strong arms that could harm anyone in a chokehold. You knew his collarbones and almost all of his upper body assets were prominent, but even his abs held contest to them. 

And he wasn’t at all bulky– he was chiseled to perfection. 

But then reality hits you like a cabbage cart and you realize the Firelord was stripping before you. “H-hey–! What are you doing?” You immediately interrogate, shamelessly covering your eyes as if you had not looked at him like a piece of meat just a moment ago. 

“For you,” he says quietly, offering his robe to you. “I’m… also not eager to allow you to be seen like this.” He looks away from you, but even from the sliver of side profile you get to see, his upper face exposes a hue of red. “So I insist you wear this.” 

“I… appreciate the gesture, truly, but these are handwoven specifically for the Firelord,” you say shyly. You didn’t truly care about those rules, but it would be extremely embarrassing for you to wear his clothes in public. “Not sure if you noticed, but I am very much not the Firelord.” 

Lord Zuko looks back at you, immediately covering his face with his free hand to keep you from seeing his smile. He’s supposed to be serious, and somehow, you were still able to soften him. “I’m a little too aware that you are not the Firelord. But please, I insist you wear this for the time being.” 

You accepted his offer, though you still felt that dent of reticence. You take the robe (which, adding to its value, was quite heavy) and carefully slip your arms in. You tie it as tight as it allows, considering you do not share the same measurements as him. It touched your back, but the material is so soft, it offers little irritation. Giving it a few adjustments, you immediately smirk at how large it was on you. 

“It’s just about touching the floor,” you comment, worried about damaging such expensive and exclusive material. This robe alone would be enough to sell and retire the rest of your days, should it be yours to obtain. 

“Looks like it was made just for you,” he hums quietly, not permitting his mind to go any further. Before you could make anything of his words, he offered you a hand, “are you ready to go?”

It felt like a dream after a very long nightmare. You carefully place your hand in his, trusting your life in his care. His rough, calloused hands take hold of you, a grip so gentle as if he was holding an egg. Giving him a final confirming nod, he begins to lead you away

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ 

In hindsight, Lord Zuko wished he had given you a little more warning. 

When he escorted you back out to the bar, the rage he had temporarily abandoned when finding you had immediately returned. You two were met with now a flood of guards, who held every bar occupant captive until Lord Zuko instructed otherwise. It was funny just how much power the Firelord has without having to say a thing, as he had come with some guards and now had a whole army inside this small tavern. 

“Firelord Zuko!” The guards acknowledge his presence, standing by and awaiting for instruction. 

Lord Zuko ignores them just for a moment, meandering around the bar in such a way to body block you from Lord Indra’s sight. He was glad you did not seem to notice his scheme either, as you were more focused on keeping hold of his hand and following him wherever he was leading you. And for Lord Zuko’s personal needs, he didn’t want to let Lord Indra have another look at you. If it was up to him, he’d gauge his eyes out personally. 

But even Lord Zuko couldn’t stoop to such cruelty, despite how others easily enact their own sinister acts. 

“I need 10 of you to escort and be appointed to Lady Sai,” Lord Zuko begins simply. “She is to be safely escorted to her room, and not to be disturbed by anyone. Not even Chamberlain herself. Do you understand?” 

The guards hesitate, fixated on you with Lord Zuko’s robes on. You understood that it was very interesting. Even you have not fully fathomed wearing his garments, which still bore his warmth from his recent wear. 

Lord Zuko notices this, and his patience further thins, “did I stutter? Do as I say!” His tone ramps up, and you flinch from its sudden change. He had been speaking so gently with you just moments ago. He turned to you, attempting to adjust his tone but it was still stern, “go back to the palace. We will talk when I return.” 

You stared at him quizzically, “w-what do you mean? Won’t we be returning together?” 

Lord Zuko looks at you, his expression cold but not because of you, “I have to do something, and it may take me a bit of time. But I will go straight to you after.” 

You shook your head, “n-no, I’d rather be with you, here.” 

He quickly reverts back, looking into your eyes good and well. If it were up to him, truly, he’d go back to the palace and just be in your presence, even if he were back to his dreadful work and you were there keeping him company. “y/n, it is not that I do not want you here…” 

“Then…?” You whispered softly, trying to look beyond those honey eyes. 

He feels your hand squeeze his own, and quickly accepts that you will not falter. He gets slightly closer to you, enough that only you could hear his following words, “stay. But I want to apologize to you in advance for what you are about to see.” 

Before you could say another word, he looked back at his guards, his tone once again rejoicing with rampage, “find a carriage– anything that will allow Lady Sai to sit and rest her body. I don’t care how you do it, just do it.” A few guards rush out upon instruction, quickly learning from their mistakes earlier. He then points at a few more guards, “guard her with your life, and protect her while she rests. Bring her outside and don’t let any of these idiots near her.” 

The guards quickly nod, and navigate between the many stunned fire benders and tables to surround you. Lord Zuko gives you an apologetic look before letting go of your hand. Although you can still see Lord Zuko, your view gets quickly altered by the guards who have been tasked to sentry you. 

The guards offer their hands, as they had noticed your trouble with walking when coming into view. As you allow them to support you, you look back at Lord Zuko, only to be met with his back. His wide, chiseled back was ornate with ripples of muscles, with a defined dip of his spine. His beautiful long hair skewed your sight of his upper back, but you could easily imagine the rest. 

He was looking towards the corner in which Lord Indra was sitting, with the rest of the visiting lords moved far away from him. You couldn’t get a good look at him, as Lord Zuko was (purposely) blocking your vision. But with the sudden sound of heavy breathing, you knew Lord Indra was anxious. 

“Let’s go outside,” Lord Zuko instructs, his hands now in his pockets. Not a movement was seen, nor a sound was heard. His patience was whittling down, towards the path of nonexistence. “Guards, drag him out,” Lord Zuko commanded as he began to walk towards the door. 

“H-hey, wait!” Lord Indra finally sounded, a cry only a coward could make. “Let go of me! Where the fuck are you taking me?” Guards grab his arms, contesting his wriggling and struggle in their hold. 

You follow with a reasonable amount of distance behind Lord Indra, who still insisted that he be unhanded. As you finally leave the tavern, your eyes struggle from the sudden brightness of the sun. A few guards quickly grab nearby clothes and stretch it over your head to shield you from its relentless rays. 

You were immediately met with accommodation, as the tasked guards to find you a carriage returned. They rushed to you with a wooden wheelbarrow, which was luckily supported by 4 wheels. Inside, it was stuffed with whatever blankets and quilts they could find to cushion it for you. 

All the guards assist you in getting into it, as you were too weak to otherwise hop in yourself. One guard put it upon himself to continue holding the cloth above you, as the sun was practically blistering. “Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you say warmly, bringing a hand to his forearm. “The sun will not do any harm.” 

The guard refused, shaking his head profusely, “you have been trusted to us by Firelord Zuko. We will guarantee your safety and care.” The fear he had against his leader was palpable. You decide not to push on, understanding his situation well. 

It seems that, for a long time, Lord Zuko had been a calm, understanding leader. As he was working with the Avatar to restore peace, he himself found his own inner equanimity. You had always heard the stories of his temperament as a teenager, though you obviously have never known him and experienced that yourself. But considering how calm the Fire Nation has been since his rise to power, and how well he treats his people, you deduced those stories to be rumors. 

You were settled towards the sides of the city, receiving many curious eyes from the locals before they gave their attention to Lord Zuko. They all bowed in his presence, stopping their activities or dropping whatever they had in their arms to greet him. He walked towards the center square of this area of town, which immediately triggered the crowd to clear the space. 

The attention was then directed to Lord Indra, who was now silently protesting while being dragged toward the center square. But you could not care to watch him when Lord Zuko was in sight. 

He lifts his arms in the air, stretching every muscle of his upper body with ease. He cracks his neck, moving it all about to loosen his muscles. It was when you traced down his abs that you realized something: a scar, its residence dead center of his core. How had you not noticed before? Perhaps with everything happening, your mind was not operating at its best. 

“Let him go,” Lord Zuko finally says, as the guards had dragged him just a few feet in front of him. Lord Indra gets thrown to the ground, the guards dusting their hands as they walk away from the scene. Furiously, Lord Indra rises, aggressively pulling at his beard to dust off the specks of dust and debris of the floor. “It seems you regret not listening to me last night.” 

Lord Indra rolls his eyes, “don’t be so cocky. Having guards do your bidding doesn’t make you better than anyone.” 

“Holding a defenseless woman hostage and striking her on the back is not a fantastic feat either,” Lord Zuko spews, cracking his fingers one by one. He doesn’t dare look up at him, as he gets to his thumbs. “But, feel free to spout more moronic shit to me.” 

“So what now?” Lord Indra taunts, looking around at the many pairs of eyes narrowed onto them and the tension. “You gonna burn me like I burned your little servant girl there?” 

“You’re a bold man for speaking to your Firelord like this,” Lord Zuko says calmly, bringing his hands up to his bun. He accidentally unravels it when gently removing his golden crown, allowing for his hair to flow loosely. He begins to walk over to you, disregarding Lord Indra completely. When he makes it to you, he bends down slightly, offering the crown to you, “mind holding onto this as well for me?” His voice suddenly sweet, like a pastry. You carefully take the crown, blushing immensely as you were now adorned in 50% of his usual attire. 

While he was nearby, he also began to remove his boots, his bare feet now exposed to the hot ground below him. Not that he minded, of course, as he walked back to his place in the square. Lord Indra scoffs at him, “your father would be disgusted by you. Defecting your lineage with a girl who holds no value.” 

Lord Zuko chafes his feet against the ground, getting used to its solidness. “It seems you don’t like me very much, Indra,” he pokes at his ego, dropping formalities completely. “Did I do something to you?” 

Lord Indra looks at him, stunned as if he had said something unearthly. Dark eyes lower, his posture now straightened. He looks at the Firelord with an unpleasant stare, “I have lived for a long time, boy. Long enough to know that you will never have the same power your father once had.” 

“And what kind of power did my father have that I don’t?” Lord Zuko pressed on, now more curious than angry. That said, he still held onto this fury, this insatiable feeling. 

“Enough to bring his daughter to true strength,” Lord Indra hisses. He then smirks menacingly, eyeing the scar on Lord Zuko’s left eye. “Enough to teach his weaker child respect.” 

Lord Zuko lifts his eyebrow, impressed with his audacity, “and where are they now?” Lord Indra keeps silent, gritting his teeth. “Right, they’re not here. And even if they were, you wouldn’t have gotten this far before being silenced forever.” Lord Zuko finally finishes stretching, with one hand lifted, he allows a controlled burst of fire to float on his palm. “Some mercy rubbed off on me from last night, but I now understand that mercy is not what you want.” 

Lord Indra stares at the fire, quickly being reminded of the burns he had received from him the night before. It was not enough to scar or truly hurt, but the light trauma still remained. “All this for that peasant? Breaking the law for a girl with no worth?” 

“I am the Firelord, therefore I am the law,” Lord Zuko spat, the flame in his hand now dancing slightly uncontrollably. “It was enough that you decided not to heed my commands and leave by Morningstar's arrival, but to then go and brand her?” 

Lord Indra laughs, “you cannot be a ruler if you cannot keep your people in check. You will lose that crown sooner with how spineless you are.”

“I never considered it that way,” a dark tone coats Lord Zuko’s words. The fire in his hand writhes frenziedly, like even the flame itself could not handle his power. “Thank you for the advice, Indra. Let me start applying it today, right now.” 

You knew Lord Indra knew his fate well. He knew he’d be imprisoned forever, key lost in the surrounding oceans. But, with this, his boldness has entered levels unknown. He was riling Lord Zuko up, attempting to mess with his head before he’s locked away forever. 

But, when you give Lord Zuko a good look, there’s that controlled chaos that you recognized from the night prior. It was different, though. It was almost like, for a split second, he was… excited. 

“You should feel special,” Lord Zuko taunts, the fire in his hand now struggling to remain still as slivers of lightning sneak its way out. “I’m changing the law just for you.” 

Lord Indra looks at Lord Zuko long and hard, attempting to find any sort of hesitance. But his demeanor was set in stone, his expression determined. Seeing this, Lord Indra lets out a shaky sigh before stripping away the top layers of his clothing. He, too, removes enough to show his torso, ornate with hair and very few scars from burns and fights in the past. 

“Finally growing some balls,” Lord Indra exclaims, allowing fire to appear in his palms. He cracks his own neck before anticipation envelopes in his eyes. “Can’t wait to settle this and show everyone what kind of Firelord you really are.” 

Lord Zuko simply sighs, the sort of sigh you emit when you pity someone. Looking around, he notices someone particular in the crowd. Surrounded by guards as well, his dear uncle made his way down and found him, upon Lady Kira’s instructed words. He notices his uncle's worried expression, as if he was fearful of something. 

But Lord Zuko was shockingly composed, despite the feelings that were aching to be let out. “Everyone,” he announces, looking around at the concerned looks that surrounded him. “Today, I have decided to temporarily revoke my ban on the first thing I had outlawed as the Firelord, and allow him the honor to lose at my hand in my final Agni Kai.” 

“There he is,” Lord Indra boasts, his demented excitement only worsening. “A true Firelord finally coming out from dormancy. Perhaps the girl was not so useless after all since we all get to witness his real power.” 

Lord Zuko smiles, humored by Lord Indra’s sudden performative banter. That was enough to make Lord Indra’s confidence dent. That smile alone was enough for unease to set in. “Now we get to find out how fire resistant you are.” 

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Zuko knew better than to think he’d get a wink of rest that night. 

With the Avatar and his friends coming to visit, he was disturbed by the shuffling of feet at dawn. The staff moved at a faster tune, preparing the palace for their arrival as if it was the most important thing to do. And really, it was. Ladies in Waiting rushed into bedrooms, sweeping the floor, changing the sheets, and ensuring perfection was met. Guard leaders were instructing them on their future positioning, and instructing them to heighten their awareness. 

As for Zuko, he was struggling just to get out of bed. His body felt hot and heavy, like molten rocks were pressing down against his torso. But he gets up, albeit a few bone cracks here and there. He dragged his feet in his routine, getting showered and barely ready before waiting for your arrival. He was eager to see you, despite wanting to try and keep his distance from you. 

You were not the issue; it was him. In hindsight, he should have known that getting close to you was not a great decision. He would have killed Lord Indra if you asked him to, and that kind of power over him was extremely dangerous. So, throughout the night, he’s convinced himself that the best thing for the both of you was to dissolve the relationship you had developed. You are his attendant, and he was your leader. 

But as the minutes passed, your absence remained. You were never late, and he always admired that punctual drive of yours. But here he was, sat at the edge of his bed, eagerness being stabbed by your delay. Not that he’d admit he was anticipating seeing you. 

Then, a gentle knock was heard against his door. He quickly sits up, fixing his garments to close the sliver of chest and abs he was showing. “Come in,” he struggles out, his voice still hoarse from getting up. 

His glowing eyes quickly dim when it was not you entering his quarters, but another Lady in Waiting. She bows, “goodmorning, Firelord Zuko.” There it was, that monotone serving voice that he loathes. He understood it was part of their job, but that lip service has long annoyed him. 

“Goodmorning,” he hums, giving a curt nod. She quickly closes the door behind her, and looks over at his massive vanity, taking hold of a brush. “Oh, are you to…?” 

The Lady in Waiting nods shyly, her eyes not daring to meet his, “I will be taking Lady Sai’s place for today. So whenever you are ready, I will assist you in doing your hair.” She was nervous, as the brush shook in her hold. She was short, her attire perfectly ironed, and bun done so tightly, a strand does not dare to stick out. 

She was anxious. Zuko does not protest, and finds his way to the chair. He wasn’t happy, and it wasn’t just because of your absence. You knew best how to do his, well, everything. Zuko was a bit tender headed, and you brushed his hair so well, he doesn’t even notice when you finish sometimes. 

He sat there, arms crossed, teeth gritting as the attendant divided his hair into sections. She didn’t realize the way she would slide the hairpin a little too aggressively, dragging it against his scalp in the process. He winces, but doesn’t dare mood, as he didn’t want her to know he wasn’t comfortable. 

He was the damn Firelord– why would tenderheadedness be a fault of his? 

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After a torturous bun and a long morning, the two strolled over to the throne room in the afternoon, where a stack of scrolls eagerly waited for Zuko’s arrival. He slapped his hand against his face, his amber eyes burning at his tasks through the spaces of his fingers. Fuck me, he thought to himself. The Lady in Waiting behind him cowered, fearful of his mood. 

And she was not wrong to react in such a way. Zuko was in a terrible mood. Not enough to be cruel to her, but enough that he would sigh and groan every other minute. He opened scrolls so quickly, some of them ripped off of the wooden dowels. Even when signing with his quill, he would occasionally write a bit too aggressively, marking lines off the paper accidentally. 

And it wasn’t that he missed you or anything. 

But, when the kind Lady in Waiting prepared his tea, she trembled, similarly to you when you had first attended him. And when she prepared a cup of tea for him, the first sip he took was dreadful. It tasted of just hot water, no herbs, not even anything sweet. And she would stand so far, he’d have to raise his voice just a bit just to speak with her. 

It wasn’t her fault; you spoiled him too much. Your hands were already masters at your craft before you were hired to serve him. Your warmth put fire bending to shame, especially with how careful you were when tending to him. Everything about you; your scent, your touch, your smile. He was so used to you that being without you wasn’t satisfactory to him. 

“Lady,” he calls to her, getting a small jump from her. “Come here.” 

She rushes down the room, and halts at the bottom of the stairs that led to his throne. She bows, “yes, my Lord?” Her words were stammered out, her skin completely pale. He felt bad for making her anxious, but that’s just part of the job. 

“What is your name?” Zuko hums. He had no plans of breaking formalities with her, but he wanted to respect her and know who was attending him. 

She nods, “K-Kira, m’Lord.” Her name barely wanted to leave her tongue from the way it came out so hush. 

Zuko offers her a small smile, attempting to soothe her nerves, “it’s nice to meet you, Lady Kira. Thank you for serving me today.” 

“Th-the honor is all mine, always my Lord!” She squeaked out, offering him yet another bow. He puts down his quill into the jar of ink beside him, and allows the scroll on the desk to loosely close. 

He was direct in his words, “do you know why Lady Sai is not here attending to me?” He quickly follows his inquiry with, “do not take offense to this. I am used to her servicing me, as she is my direct and personal attendant. I need to know where she is, and why she is not here.” 

Kira looks down, her anxiety peaking. This made Zuko curious, as it seemed like asking if that was something she was dreading. It felt almost as if your whereabouts were to remain unknown to him. “She… has been assigned to work elsewhere by Lady Minji.” 

“Chamberlain Minji assigned my direct attendant to work on something else?” Zuko repeats her words, just clarifying that he heard her correctly. She feebly nods. “Can I ask what she is doing?” 

Kira’s eyes were dim, and he knew that there was something wrong. But, it did allure him to see one of the staff members attempt to keep something from him. It was rare, and his interest and need to know where you were only skyrocketed. She finds solace at her shoes, hoping he’d stop caring and let it go. 

But it was you they were talking about– he won’t let it go until he knows. 

“Lady Kira, is this something I’m not to know?” Zuko asks, lowering his voice so low that even a mouse could be heard if there was one. 

Kira’s eyes return to meet him, seeing his eyes completely engulfed in worry now. He had to know where you were, and what you were doing, and why you were not here, with him. “...I’m not to say, upon Lady Minji’s instructions,” Kira says quietly.

His eyes glimmer now with something a bit darker. There was an unease crawling on his skin, needing but also fearing the answer. “You do not need to concern yourself with consequence; I will not tell her who told me,” Zuko promises. 

Kira sees the honesty and desperation in those amber eyes. She also realizes it’s much more dangerous to deny the Firelord than it was to disobey the Chamberlain. “Lady Minji reassigned Lady Sai to attend to the visiting lords.” 

Zuko was taken aback from her words. The lords were completely taken care of by the other Ladies in Waiting, but only when they were within the Palace. From his knowledge, he was confident that the lords were spending the day in the Capital, obtaining resources to prepare for their trip back to their own villages. “But they are not in Palace grounds, correct?” 

Kira nods, “they are… um…” She shuffles in place, anxious to reveal their location. But they were already too deep in the conversation, and Zuko had no intention to let up. “They are at the pub down at the Capital.” 

“What?” Zuko scoffed. “Why?” 

“Sh-she was told she must make it up to Lord Indra; the reason, I am not sure of,” Kira replies. 

There was an anger building up in the Firelord, like a supervolcano ready to activate after a long dormancy. It was already enough that you were not present, but hearing that you were completely out of Palace grounds and in the same room as the same person who did you damage just the night before. 

He tried to contain himself, letting out an annoyed sigh. A discussion with Chamberlain was a given, though it was not something he was eager to do. He had trusted the palace management to her, and that trust was quickly being tested. He reopens the scroll on his desk, attempting to refocus on his work once more. 

She’s fine, he thought to himself, finding comfort in his naivety. Staff of the palace must be escorted into Capital City, regardless of the reason. Zuko put this in place to ensure their safety while not keeping them hostage in the palace. He never wanted the workers to feel as if their life is only within the walls of his home. 

He taps the tip of the quill to his tongue, “what time was she escorted to the bar?” 

Kira quickly clears her throat, “it was quite early, but no guards accompanied her. She went by herself.” The quill in his hand snapped, chips of wood broken to pieces and threatening to splinter him. 

Suddenly, he felt all air get removed from the room. There was something hitched at his throat, and there was a sort of anger he hadn’t felt in a very long time. The most it had ever come in recent time was yesterday, when you are assaulted. And even then, that was just a scratch of its true wrath. 

He puts away his work quickly, not another word leaving his lips. He had to control himself, at least for the time being. He knew he needed to confront Chamberlain, but that will be for after. His first task was to go to you. He stands straight, his robes flowing behind him, supplemented by the air from his sudden stride. 

Zuko walks up to Kira and leans down, his face inches before hers. She could feel herself go hot, her nerves forcing goosebumps all over her skin. “I need you to do me a favor, if you’re willing,” he says calmly. 

Kira nods, “anything for you, Firelord Zuko.” 

“I want you to leave this room quietly, and should anyone ask where you are going, say that I’ve instructed you to upkeep my room,” Zuko begins his instructions, having Kira jot it down mentally. “And I do want you to remain in my quarters, but before that, find my uncle and tell him I’m going into town.” 

Inform Master Iroh? She thinks curiously. Her eyes looked into his, and those amber eyes were now a dark honey. But, they held anything but sweetness in their coat, cloaked by something she could not begin to describe. 

She nods once more, “understood, Firelord Zuko. A-and Lady Minji?” 

“My word is above everyone else's here,” Zuko reaffirms, “should she dare go against my word, I’m not sure if she can take the entirety of the consequences that are imminent.” 

A glimmer of admiration twinkles in her eyes, despite her anxiety from seeing the Firelord begin to build on his intimidating aura. She nods, “I will do as I am told, Firelord Zuko. And… thank you very much…” her words trail off, as her eyes look down woefully. 

“Hm?” He tilts his head, confused by her gratitude. 

“None of us did anything,” she whispered, “Sai stood there and obeyed, did not dare question her instructions.” 

Zuko changes his demeanor, just for a moment, and gives her a gentle smile. “But I know you would have done something if you could’ve. I’ve made a grave mistake in allowing Minji to frighten you all as much as she does.” He straightens up again, feeling his veins begin to protrude from his neck. 

Appreciative of his words, Kira quickly bows, “I will do as I am told, Firelord Zuko. Please be safe, and bring her back to us.” 

Zuko felt his cheeks tint, a quiet hue of pink. It wasn’t so much that she caused it, but really her warm words. There was a sisterhood between the Ladies in Waiting, and he couldn’t help but admire the want to make sure each other were safe and sound. Even knowing that your placement is higher than the rest, you were able to create such bonds that transcends ranks. 

“Do not worry,” Zuko lulls, “Sai will come home.” 

Kira latches to his words, prayers swarming her mind for your safety and his calmness. As he begins to hurry towards the exit, Kira calls out to him, with another thing he should know. “Firelord Zuko!” She calls out, having him halt completely. He barely glances back at her, his eyes in view between the strands of his long, dark hair. “Lady Sai is in… very lascivious attire, upon Madam Minji’s instructions. You may not recognize her.” 

Any shred of warmth has long left Zuko, and an unfamiliar person takes over. A buzzing torments his head, almost like the rationale in his mind clocked out for the day. Zuko knew better than to revert back to this, but then again, he was not himself at this moment. He lets out a deep, deep sigh, “...thank you for letting me know.”

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The guards at the front of the palace were extremely surprised when they see Zuko open the front doors of the palace. 

He stood there, pure disgust on his face as the front guards bowed at their posts. He goes up to one of them, waiting for them to straighten up before meeting eyes with their leader. The guard’s gulp could be heard from oceans away, his being felt small in the presence of his leader. “F-Firelord Zuko,” the guard acknowledges him, his voice slightly strained from anxiety. 

“This morning, did you see Lady Sai leave the palace?” Zuko was not going to drag this. He needs information, and he needs it as soon as he requests it. 

The guard goes pale, “y-yes, Lady Sai left the palace grounds just a few hours ago. She was sent to town by Chamberlain Minji.” 

“Right, so my question is: why the fuck did you lot let her leave without escort?” The other guards jumped at his higher, aggressive tone. Zuko was not one to use explicit words, especially considering how much he has grown since he was younger. The once aggressive teenager had become this solemn man, hollow but still kind despite his circumstances that led him to this point. 

The guard’s eyes looked over to his fellow men, who could offer nothing of assistance or solace. Zuko’s intimidating shot all of them, and they were too petrified to even move. For just a brief moment, they felt the presence of Firelord Ozai. “M-my Lord, sh-she did not tell us to escort her into tow–” 

“I’ve let you all get too comfortable,” Zuko interrupts him, a growl in his voice that stunned the guard further. “You do not stray from protocol just because she did not request aid. You escort every lady that leaves this palace, and you bring her back here.”

“I-I… I apologize, My Firelord,” the guard stammers out, bowing so low that perhaps his head will meet the concrete and knock him out from this nightmare. “W-we did not realized that–” 

Before he could even finish, Zuko simply turned around and began rushing down the stairs of the palace. He was so annoyed, he couldn’t be bothered to listen to a half-ass excuse. There was a mental note in his head to do additional training for them, as this was unacceptable and below his standard. 

He was pissed. When he made it down into the city, everyone quickly dropped their daily tasks and immediately bowed. Adults and children alike, though some young ones who didn’t know did not follow suit. Not that Zuko cared, his mind was completely elsewhere. His posse of guards could barely keep up, as Zuko’s stride was at a pace they were not used to. 

He knew this bar well. The Fire Nation Bar was infamous, mainly because its clientele was male-only. He didn’t give a damn about other men’s vices. They could drink or smoke their lives away should they feel inclined to. So long as they did not cause harm to others in the process. 

But Zuko understood what alcohol does to someone. Their right mind goes to the gutter, replaced with the parts of their mind that they keep shut for a reason. 

To think you were in there boiled his blood. 

Without hesitance, he rips open the curtain that served as the door. The dimly illuminated tavern had now been struck by a sudden light of the day. Smoke quickly hurried from the bar, with many eyes suddenly going over to the entrance. Laughter slowly dissolved when realizing what guest arrived in their lounging space. 

“F-Firelord Zuko!” Many of them exclaimed, putting down their drinks to quickly bow. He was disgusted by the many men who attempted to bow, only they were either slumped in their chairs or had completely fallen to the ground in the process. 

But he did not care for them at this moment. Eyes scan the room, looking past the bartenders in order to spot the visiting lords. Even the foul stench of sweat and beer could not wane his search for you. Ambar eyes quickly locate Lord Indra, and something in Zuko finally snapped. 

He pushed past drunk men, shoving tables and stools out of his way, unable to care about causing damage. The visiting lords quickly realized the situation, their eyes wide and full of fear. Robes are quickly being closed, ties shakily being tightened and looped. A few cups fall to the ground, with a few waitresses contemplating to pick them up for the sake of their job, or leaving them to avoid being noticed by the Firelord himself. 

They choose the latter and remain still. 

One lord quickly tries his best to escalate the situation. He rises from his seat, clearly not as drunk as his fellow leaders, and offers Zuko a bow. "Good afternoon, Firelord Zuko,” he hums, the facade of confidence evident in his face and voice. “What a surprise to find you here.” 

“Move,” Zuko said simply. He did not have time for chit chat. In fact, why did he even give him a response? “I’ll move you myself if you prefer.”

The threat proved sufficient, and the lord sat back down, offering sympathetic eyes to Lord Indra. And speaking of, the other lords silently moved out of Zuko’s away, as Lord Indra could be found at the farthest end of the bar. A drink in his hand, his beard still unkempt, and a smirk as cocky as ever. 

And Zuko did not like it one bit.  

Lord Indra, still with a smile, looks up at Zuko, “Firelord Zuko!” He cheers as if he was excited to see him. “What pleasure do we owe for this visit?” 

“Where is she?” Zuko cuts to the chase. 

Lord Indra looks at him, astonished at Zuko’s anger. “My Lord, you surely cannot be serious.” He looks around the room, the other lords baffled at his confidence in speaking to the Firelord. “Over a mere servant? How do you expect to be followed with a spine so soft?”  

Zuko was tired. He looks over at one of the waitresses, “where is the Lady that was with these creatures?” 

The waitress, welled up in trepidation, looked into his eyes fearfully. She gestured to the backroom, which was only meant to be accessed by the workers of the bar. “She’s in there,” the waitress spoke quietly. 

Zuko looked back at his guards, “do not let anyone leave. I’ll be back.” 

He walks past Lord Indra, who freezes from his stride. He tried playing it cool, finishing his beer while looking over at his fellow lords with a lopsided smile. But when he realized how far the lords had moved from him, with spooked expressions, there was a sudden, unsettling feeling crawling up from his toes. 

He knew he was fucked, but he never expected for the Firelord to come out and retrieve you himself. He intended to simply put you in your place before he left, considering the ‘dishonor’ you brought to him. Could he be blamed? He tried to ease his mind. A servant embarrassing him, a lord, has no place anywhere.  

But even his thoughts could no longer coddle him. 

Zuko pushes the curtain away, being met with shelves loaded with ingredients, and dishes (both dirty and cleaned) all about the narrow hall. He looks left and right, before noticing many waitresses surrounding something. Or someone. 

Unease drags itself up his legs, his body feeling the same heaviness as he did this morning. But this time, it was as if something wanted to stop him from looking. From seeing you, but in a way he was dreading. The waitresses looked back and noticed him, quickly bowing before slowly moving out of his way. 

And to his horror, he found you, but it was clear he was too late. 

There you were, sat in a stool, facing away from him. You quietly hissed and whimpered, your arms holding each other so tightly that cuts ensued from the way you dented your fingers into your flesh. Your hair was completely liberated, but those beautiful locks seemed lifeless. 

Kira’s information regarding your change in attire rang true. Zuko’s eyes noticed the white silk dress, which only truly covered your rear and legs. But even that was a stretch, as the garment was completely backless. And that was where the true horror of Zuko’s nightmares was located. 

Clothed pieces of ice were being dabbed on your back, with the two waitresses keeping them pressed against your body while looking back at Zuko. They were frozen, waiting for any sort of words or command from him. But considering the stoicism present in his expression, they offer him a curt bow before removing the ice from your back. 

And there it was: a crooked lash, a blistering red and white burn, from the top left of your scapula, ending towards the lower right of your back. 

You glance back at Zuko, and he finally gets to see your face, despite how much it immediately broke him. Cheeks were flushed, and shiny with hot tears. You wanted to offer him a smile, but even your body could not lie. All you could muster was a quiet, “Zuko…” 

And that… that was enough for him. 

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Hours had passed since he’d disappeared into meetings. Dinner had come and gone without him, leaving the palace unbearably quiet. And alone in the privacy of your bedchambers, wrapped in silk and memory, your hand couldn't help but slip beneath your robe.

Your fingers found the slick heat between your thighs. Slowly, greedily, you began to touch yourself, chasing the ghost of his mouth, his hands, the weight of him. The memory alone made your breath falter.

You were so lost in it that you barely heard the heavy doors creak open.

Your head snapped up.

Zuko stood in the doorway, hair slightly disheveled as though he’d spent the evening dragging frustrated hands through it. His robes hung loose at the collar, and his amber eyes (usually controlled and unreadable in court) darkened the moment they landed on you. Your legs pressed together on reflex.

“Zuko, I—”

He crossed the room without a word.

The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he climbed onto the bed and moved toward you until he knelt at your side. His fingers brushed a loose strand of hair away from your face with gentleness before trailing lower, covering the hand you had instinctively hidden between your thighs.

His mouth curved faintly.

“Don’t stop on my account,” he murmured. “Let me see what you do when you think about me.”

Heat flooded your face. Even so, you let him pull your hand away. Your fingers glistened with your own arousal, and his gaze lingered on them for only a moment before he brought them to his lips.

The sight of his tongue sliding across your skin made your stomach tighten.

His eyes fluttered shut briefly, a quiet shudder passing through him, and when he looked back at you, his expression had gone molten.

“Keep touching yourself,” he said under his breath. “I want you looking at me.”

You sank back against the pillows, your robe falling open completely as you obeyed. Silk pooled uselessly around your waist, leaving you bare, thighs parted just enough for him to see the evidence of your arousal between them.

He did not touch you. Instead, he reached down and freed his cock from his trousers, wrapping his fist around the shaft with a low exhale. It was thick and flushed, the head dark and wet. He began to stroke himself slowly, his gaze fixed on your body.

You watched the muscles of his stomach tighten, his lips part and his eyes glaze with lust which was more than enough for your fingers to resume their work, circling your clit with torturous slowness, matching his pace. A curl of steam escaped his lips. The sight of it sent a shiver through you.

"Zu—"

“Keep going,” he said, the words leaving his mouth in a breath warm enough to send another thin ribbon of heat through the air between you.

Your robes had long since ceased to be clothing. They were forgotten fabric, silk tangled around your elbows, bunched beneath your shoulders, clinging to the damp curve of your ribs like a second skin soaked through with sweat. The firelight around you caught the glisten on your collarbone, on your stomach, on the insides of your thighs. The heat from his mouth and his breathing turned the air thick and wet.

Your hair was everywhere, against the pillows, strands plastered to your temples, a few stuck to the corner of your lips. You hadn’t bothered to push them away. You couldn’t. Your hands were fisted in the sheets, knuckles white, your body growing steadily more restless beneath the weight of his attention.

“Faster,” he groaned softly, and his hand moved quicker on his cock. “Don’t even dare to slow down.”

You increased your rhythm, wet sounds filling the space between your ragged breaths. His strokes grew more urgent, and so did yours, each of you chasing the same release. Your waist was pressed flat to the mattress, your hips tilted up just slightly, enough to offer yourself fully. Your thighs were open wide, the muscles shaking, knees bent and falling apart. Your feet were planted on the bed, heels digging into the rumpled linen, toes curled as you arched into each stroke of your fingers.

"That's it," he rasped, his voice strained. "Don't look away. I want to see you, you look so ruined and beautiful, touching yourself in front of me."

Your thighs trembled harder, falling open as pleasure dragged through you in waves. Every movement of your fingers sent another pulse of heat through your body, tightening low in your belly until it almost hurt.

His hips began to thrust into his own fist, his composure cracking, his forehead beaded with sweat.

"Zuko… I'm so close," you whimpered, your fingers working desperately.

"Then come for me," he commanded, his strokes becoming erratic, matching the wild rhythm of your own. "Now."

Your body obeyed, convulsing as the orgasm broke over you, your cry dissolving into his name like a prayer. Your hips jerked against your hand as waves of pleasure rolled through you. Through blurred vision, you saw Zuko break with you.

A strained groan left him as his head tipped back, his hand pumping desperately before he spilled across your stomach in hot streaks. He shuddered through the release, heat ghosting from his mouth with every uneven breath.

His eyes never leaving yours, he lowered himself to his knees at the edge of the bed, hooked his arms under your thighs, and pulled you toward his mouth. The first stroke of his tongue through your soaked folds made your back curve against the mattress beneath you.

“Oh, lord…” you moaned softly.

“Yes, love?” he said smugly, the heat of his breath surrounding your aching thighs in slow waves. “If you started without me, it’s only fair that I finish it.”

Your fingers tangled in his hair as his tongue returned deeper and devastating. He began to feast on you, his grunts and the wet sounds of his devotion filling the room. He devoured you like a man starved, lapping at your folds, sucking your clit between his lips, pushing his tongue inside you until your thighs were shaking around his shoulders all over again.

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