the road to forgiveness is a long one; enji wants to start by understanding his son, and the opportunity presents itself when he meets you.
content warning. endeavour's pov, crack mostly ive been in a silly mood and i thought this was funny, shoto's whipped, genuinely he's down TF badt, enji's kinda jealous that his son likes you lol, endeavour internship arc adjacent, reader interns with fatgum n em :>, use of yn, fluff, endeavor redemption arc but dont be fooled i fucking hate him
A/N. this was so hard for me to write bc i had to be empathetic for this sack of shit, it was torturous the entire way through guys believe me, this was a sweet piece tho and i dog on him a bit anyway so it balances out for me
enji todoroki, as hard as he tries for him, can tell his son does not enjoy his company.
and in all honesty, he doesn’t blame him. he knows and tries to come to terms with the hurt he’s caused. not only to him, but all of his children. all of his family.
but still, he can’t help but feel a bit bitter about the situation in front of him.
he knows shouto doesn’t like him around. even now, while he’d accepted the offer of working under him for his work study.
this elated enji at first (even if shouto had ended up dragging two of his classmates along), it would allow for some good father-son-bonding time, maybe his son would get some esteem for him.
but seriously, did he have to look at him like that ?
he never blamed his son, no matter how he feels about him. he knew he would have to work to earn his respect, his forgiveness.
but the road to forgiveness feels so very long when your own son looks at you like you embarrassed him every time you spoke.
shouto barely offered his father a glance beside when asking him the occasional question about hero work. enji figured he was taking a step towards the right direction, but shouto didn’t make it easy for him.
for everything he thought he did right, shouto would only grace him with tight looks and occasional glances. the most he’d get from him was a sigh when he’d lecture him and his classmates.
and oh, how he seemed to hate. hate—when enji referred to him by name. even if it did happen to be his hero name as well, it was like his name even being uttered by him disgusted his own son. he could tell, even if he was never one for over-animated reactions. shouto had always been a calm boy, as most of his children were.
except…
his mind drifts, and the older man tries hard to not let it show. it was amateurish of him to let himself get this bent out of shape over his teenage son’s antics, over dark memories of the past. he promptly shakes himself out of it.
he was a hero first and foremost. and just once, he wants his son to be proud of that fact.
today’s street patrol looks like it wouldn’t be anything special, enji almost scoffs at it. there wouldn’t be anything for him to show off to to teach his son. the boy walks a few paces ahead of him, sharing some small talk with his classmates. he decides maybe a random question will keep them on their toes, it usually got their attention. the little green one would start muttering to himself like crazy, though. but for shouto, it was worth it, he thought.
“sho—“
“ah—it’s shouto !”
enji hears a voice calling further ahead, coming their way was someone who knew his son. was it a fan ? he didn’t know he had already gotten that much attention...was it because they’d been seen together ? pride slowly bubbles in his chest, until he realises his son knows this person.
“ah.”
shouto sighs. it’s small but to enji, it’s like the boy had just started hysterically laughing.
ahead stand three unknown faces accompanied by a hero—fatgum. enji scowls in confusion, he didn’t know the man patrolled around here. in front of him stands a red haired boy with shark teeth, who also seems to know his crew. as well as a dark haired older boy who stands a bit further away.
and one other person, the one that had called his son by name. or, well—hero name he guesses.
the fire hero crosses his arms to seem imposing, though he would obviously stand out the most being the tallest and the one other pro hero around. fatgum tries to strike up light conversation, but enji is too focused on the look.
that is, the look on shoto’s face.
“hi, yn.” shouto greets, voice warm despite his facial expression not changing much. enji can tell he looks…content to see you. but he’d never heard about you before, not that his son came to him talking about school…
a strange feeling settles in his chest when he sees how you converse. shouto seems familiar with you, he seems less stiff. less trained. he talks to you casually, listening and staring at you intently as you speak.
“that’s not my name right now, silly !” you giggle, smacking his arm softly. shouto pays it no mind, even though enji's sure if he were to even stand next to him he’d for sure be greeted with an ice cold glare. but you get to hit him—like it was nothing !
this was childish, there was no reason for him to feel bitter about how you act towards his son.
shouto corrects himself obediently, calling you properly by your hero name. your laughter comes easy, and shouto seems full of surprises today because enji swears he sees the hints of a small smile on his son’s face.
just who were you ?! he was ashamed to say he was almost impressed.
“i see you’re on patrol with dad, eh ?” you giggle. enji notices how you try to quiet yourself in the presence of said father. he subtly tries to stand up straighter, maybe you’d just given him the chance for shouto to finally acknowledge him—!
“oh,” shouto sighs—no, groans. “that doesn’t matter. how is your patrol going ?”
denied. completely and utterly denied.
the road to forgiveness is a long one indeed.
his son hadn’t even given him the decency of acknowledging him by name or pronoun. that ?! seriously ?!
but no matter, the situation in front of him was still strange. you were obviously classmates, yet you talked to him like he was a friend of a life time. you we’re casual with him like hawks would be overly familiar with enji. and while that annoyed him to no bounds, shouto seemed more than pleased by your behaviour.
and most importantly, there was no flinch at his name leaving your mouth. in fact, he even seemed to perk up when you said it.
seriously, just what were you to his son ?
fatgum goes on his way after the quick break in schedule with his students in tow. you turn back to wave at your classmates, calling shouto out specifically by name before you turn back to leave. he waves back immediately and doesn’t lower his arm until you’ve turned away again.
things should've taken their course again, and he’s thinking of how to bring up what he just saw when shouto’s phone buzzes. enji almost doesn’t notice with how quick the boy yanks it out of his pocket, immediately pressing it to his ear—only to remember he hadn’t pressed the answer button yet.
“hi…yeah, i still see you. you’re quite small from over here, though.”
seriously ?!
enji looks up and lo and behold, you, a little speck from afar, were waving at his son !
said son seems eager to entertain you, waving not high or enthusiastically, but he knew his son wasn’t one to waste his time on foolish thing. or…he thought he knew, but shouto seems completely focused on his task of making sure to reassure you that he still sees you and that he was still waving. even after you hang up.
“i-i think she’s far enough away now, todoroki..” his unexpected saving grace, midoriya pipes up. but even as he sweat drops an affectionate chuckle slips past him.
“i can still see her,” shouto confirms “she’ll get sad if i stop.”
“you losers are fuckin’ disgustin’..” bakugou scoffs, rolling his eyes. enji thinks for once he agrees with the boy.
later, finally back home. enji takes his chance. he calls for his son, who as expected stiffens at his voice.
“that girl, from earlier,” enji doesn’t miss how shouto immediately turns his full attention to him once you’re brought up “who was she to you ?”
shouto doesn’t miss a beat “i don’t think that should be any of your business.”
shouto’s attitude wasn’t anything new, but for some reason—a strange reason, the bitter feeling dissipates. it fades to curiosity.
he wants his son’s forgiveness, his respect. but more importantly; he wants to know—more about his son, about his life, what he cares for. he wants his son to know he cares.
he wants to know what it is he hears when you say his name that makes him look so happy, so content to hear it come from another.
even if he hates him, enji wants to know nonetheless. he doesn’t need to understand what it is about you shouto likes so much, he wants to understand his son’s compassion, his need to reassure and make sure you wouldn’t get sad he’d stopped waving at your small fading figure.
he almost laughs. that definitely wasn’t something he’d taught him, had to have been something he’d gotten from rei…
enji decides not to pry, letting his son turn away from him with no more words exchanged. shouto’s phone lights up, and he smiles—small and soft, and he’ll guess he'd just received a message from you.
the road to understanding is long and hard. but it’s one he was prepared to endure.
Shout out to my mans Leon because that one scrub was like 'this just in, Rimuru is gonna sell some kids as slaves' and Leon, who doesn't even like Rimuru, immediately called bull
idk if I ever posted this but I am still obsessed with the thought that while I personally want my OC to be with Todoroki, my OC herself doesn't fucking see the vision
I'm still trying to work on the whole storyline and the only plot tying the both of them supposedly closer is
1. Their dads are friends
2. They both had negative experiences with Endeavor
3. They internship under Endeavor
So she finds out about his family situation, feels bad, attempts to comfort (she SUCKS at it because despite how her parents aren't exactly present at LEAST she was not abused), grows on each other through mutual friendship. Eventually their shared time together leads them closer than what their peers perceive.
And I knooooow they'd look so fucking good together but man fuck she doesn't want any of that family drama
plenty of "girl who looks cute wearing her boyfriend's clothes" content out there but not enough "guy who looks cute wearing his girlfriend's clothes" in my opinion. where's your commitment. where's your bisexuality.
the "came back wrong" trope except like... they didnt. like this mad scientists wife died, and so he studied necromancy, brought her back, and she came back and it all worked. like she came back exactly the same as she was before with literally no difference. but the scientist guy is like "oh no... what have i done.... shes Different now!!!! she came back Wrong!!!!" and shes just like. chilling. reading a book. cooking dinner. shes just so so normal but in the guys mind hes like "oh shes soooo weird" but shes just normal
Shouto is sure you were Pavlov and he was the dog in his past life.
Because sure enough, every time you make him a nice home cooked meal, he gets painfully hard. Not even a small twitch, that's excusable. You've got him at full mast at 6:33 pm on a Tuesday evening.
You didn't notice at first, how could you? It embarrassed him at first, so much so that he'd just sit down awkwardly at the dinner table, hands folded in front of him as he adjusted himself in his seat. A shy "Thanks, love," leaving him as you set his plate down.
But, the longer you've lived together, the more honest he's gotten about his needs. He'll walk behind you as you plate the food, pressing himself against your back so you can see how stupidly hard you've gotten him. Pressing harder when an amused "Shouto..." makes his ears turn pink.
His breath will be warm against your neck, thick arms tight around your waist as he tugged at the waist band on your pants. "Please?" He'd breathe out every time. Grinning to himself as you laughed and agreed.
He'd make quirk work of bending you over the counter, careful to not disturb the precious food, not even bothering to take off your panties, pushing them to the side as he worked his fingers in you, pressing kisses to the side of your neck.
When he finally got himself inside you, he'd have to bite your shoulder with a groan to keep himself from coming immediately. Though your laughs always have your muscles twitching around him, and it makes him dizzy without fail.
He'd thrust into you on the counter, still flushed that gorgeous pink from embarrassment. Nailing the spot he's memorized inside you that always makes you gasp.
When you're done he'll always look sheepish but content, shuffling his feet around as you stand up to guide him into a sweet kiss he inevitably will melt into.
a/n: trying comedic style narration and smut 😭, tell me honest thoughts please!
shoto gives the best kisses. they're gentle and imbued with every ounce of tender affection he holds for you, and whenever his soft pink lips brush against your skin, you can't help but lean into all the warmth and comfort his touch offers—can't help but turn to mere putty underneath the pads of his fingertips
his nature, one you love more than words can ever say, revolves around being soft. shoto has always been a gentle lover, and that's why it's beyond difficult for you and him to get into an argument over anything at all.
"shoto—"
kiss.
"sho', honey, we can't skip this event and stay home like this—"
kiss. kiss kiss kiss kiss.
and when he sees your resolve crumbling, hears the quiet and pleased sigh that traitorously slips past the seam of your lips, he places his mouth against your own one more time before pulling away slowly, eyes drawn onto your own, round and tranquil
"you said you don't feel good, so we'll stay home."
"but this event was important to you!" you cry out, frustrated and saddened by the complexity of the situation at hand, but shoto seems entirely unbothered. in fact, it seems like he's already accepted the fact that he won't be able to go. how could he go when you're not feeling well?
"you're more important." he smiles gently, and you can't help but groan and flop onto your shared bed in defeat. you're afraid if you look at his smile for even a second longer, your heart might explode in your chest.
"you're too perfect," you grumble into the sheets, and although your eyes are closed with your face stuffed into a throw pillow, you feel the bed dip as shoto sits down beside you, and he reaches out towards you before settling a soothing palm on the curve of your spine
"do you want a massage? a bath? a massage and a bath?"
"shoto," you sigh, but you let out a sudden squeak when he abrubtly curls a hand underneath the your waist, hauling you into his lap with ease as your face is pressed flush against the planes of his chest
"i want to take care of you." he murmurs into your hair, and his kisses, those heavenly sweet kisses, trail from your hairline to the slope of your nose, and you can't help the soft huffs of laughter that escape your lips
"tickles," you whisper, and shoto smiles against your skin as his forehead bumps against your own
"let me give you a bath and order some food for us. then we'll go to the living room and watch the award show there—we'll stay home so you can rest up, and i'll be able to watch and hear the latest updates. win-win scenario, isn't it?" he questions, low voice brushing against the shell of your ear as you nod your head slowly with a hum
" 'm sorry, 'sho. i really am. i hope your friends don't get upset you didn't come because of me." you say sadly, curling further into his embrace as his chest vibrates with a hum
"there's always next time. and my friends could never be upset knowing i didn't come because you didn't feel good. those wouldn't be true friends, would they?" he prompts, and you nod your head slowly and allow his words to sink in
"i guess." you pout
"good." he affirms, and before you can say anything else, he tightens his hold around you and stands. you let out a small sound of surprise from the back of your throat as he begins walking towards the bathroom
"bath," he chastises gently when he sees the confusion on your face, and you quickly wrap an arm around his shoulders after you hear his words with a cheeky grin
"you'll join me?" you tease, fingers brushing the curve of his cheek as his surprised eyes turn towards yours. shoto must not understand what you're implying, because the smile he gives you is one full of the purest of intensions and utter devotion.
"if it means i can hold you and help you shampoo your hair, then yes."
your head drops against his chest with a breathless laugh, and you realize how much you were reminded time and time again, every single day, just how lucky you were to call shoto your lover.
when avatar aang’s letter accidentally outs firelord zuko’s feelings for his royal advisor. oh my gosh i’ve been so obsessed with that^^ picture it’s insane i need him to look at me like that. oh and! flirty!reader kinda
<- 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ༄ 𝐜𝐡.𝟐 ->
“Your Highness, the Royal Advisor is—”
“Send her in, please.” The guard doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before Zuko interrupts him. It’s practically routine now, he doesn’t understand why they need to ask him repeatedly, you’re there practically every night!
Not for nefarious reasons, Zuko would never do that. No, it was your duty as his advisor to talk to him and give him advice pertaining to anything he wishes to discuss, be it the weather, your favourite meals for some reason, submarine formations, or just talking, about nothing in particular, your voice always just had a calming effect on him.
“Your Highness.” You greet him as you enter his chambers, a lavish room fit for the Fire Lord indeed. This wasn’t the same chambers that previous Fire Lords had resided in, when Zuko took the throne, he had the Princely palace wing that he grew up in converted to his chambers. The place is beautiful regardless, endless sea of different shades of red that come together just perfectly.
Zuko doesn’t look up from his paperwork as you also greet and then dismiss the guard. “Zuko.” You call out softly after the door closes, leaving you two alone during this beautiful night. There were several lamps lit across the room, illuminating the entire space in a warm glow, but the moonlight tonight is strong too.
Zuko finally glances up at you at the beckoning of his name, the tip of his lips quirking up in the faintest smile. He has disregarded his royal regalia for the day, the crown and heavy robes resting on the other side of the room. Now he’s in simple, comfortable sleepwear, which does nothing to hide his well-built muscular form underneath.
It was no surprise the friendship between you and Zuko. You’ve known eachother since you were children, you weren’t particularly friends, you were just his father’s advisor’s daughter that he interacted with occasionally. The only reason he picked you to be his advisor very early into his reign was the fact that you were critical of his father’s practices since a young age, privately of course, words only Zuko would hear.
It was only after then that a friendship blossomed. You were around him so much that it was inescapable, you were his closest confidant. You knew everything this about him, you were the only person he felt truly open and comfortable around in the Fire Nation, so it also wasn’t quite the shock when Zuko realised the ache in his chest when he saw you was not only platonic or professional but romantic too.
He greets you back with a soft whisper of your name, going back to skimming through whatever the document in front of him was. Zuko cherished moments like this. When it is just the two of you alone, when you could too let your guard down with no watchful eyes and just call him ‘Zuko’.
You were too dressed in casual wear, robes and the pins and medals that are usually decorated on them missing, simple red dress with a hem that kissed the ground and you walked, like you always were during these meetings with him.
“Avatar Aang sent a letter through.” You announced as you walked across his room, one hand holding up your dress so you don’t trip on it and the other waving a piece of parchment around. Zuko is situated in the floor, on a cushion with his legs crossed, a small, short table in front of him with ink, documents and a lamp rested on it.
“Read it out for me?” Zuko asks in a low voice, sleep infecting it and making it gravelly, enough to send a chill down your spine. You feel a slight rush of heat to your cheeks, feeling lucky that he wasn’t looking at you. Is it really your fault? Has anyone taken a look at this man? It’s unfair!
The way the light from the lamp was illuminating his side profile, in the way you could see every contor of his face and scar. He grew up, losing his childish features, replaced with sharp contours of his cheeks, nose and jaw. Zuko glances up at you again, wondering why you’ve suddenly gone silent, with you looking away before he caught you staring.
“Flameo Hotman. How goes running the Fire Nation?” You begin to narrate dramatically as you sink into the floor, tucking your legs under the table on the opposite side to Zuko so that you sat facing him. You continue reading, the two issues that the Avatar requires help with, something in Republic City and something related to food. You converse with Zuko, talking through the problems, his sassy remarks extracting chuckles and giggles from you occasionally.
“And lastly I am curious, did you tell—Oh.”
The documents he was examining earlier is now left abandoned as Zuko was solely focused on you, and now your reaction has his eyebrows scrunching. You were smiling till a moment ago, but whatever you read at the end had the joy leave your face and…a smirk stretching across your lips.
You glance up at Zuko from behind the piece of parchment, an odd glint in your eyes, maybe even…heat? Your teeth bite into your lower lip as you glance back at the letter and then back at Zuko. “What is it? What does it say?” Zuko questions, the furrow between his eyebrows deepening.
A soft huff of amusement leaves between your bitten lips, trying your best to keep your composure. Zuko watches as you fail and burst out into a giggle, your face reddening slightly. You look back at him, the same glint still in your eyes.
“Lastly I am curious.” You start and pause dramatically, the look in your eyes darkening a little. Agni, Zuko swears in his head, this is not helping the ache in his chest, the way you were looking at him, the smile stretched across your lips.
“Did you tell your royal advisor of your romantic feelings…for her?” You read out, voice dipping by an octave.
Oh.
Oh.
Oh, Zuko is fucked.
“And asked if she is a bachelor or not? Seize the opportunity before it slips out of your fingers, my friend!” You finish reading, silently folding it before pressing the letter into the table, looking up at Zuko’s expression of being caught off guard.
The silence is very loud as you two just look at eachother, all color drained from his face and pure amusement on yours. Zuko’s eyes bare into yours and you can almost see the way he’s not only registering what you said but also working out on what to say, clearly unable to think of anything to say.
“Do you have other Royal Advisors I am not aware of…or?” You start, smirk still stretched across your lips. Zuko just blinks at you, his hetrochromatic eyes shining, his adam’s apple bopping as he swallows nervously. “He was simply…jesting.” Is somehow the only thing he can come up with currently, the usual sassiness you see in him completely disappeared.
“So you’re not in love with me?”
You say, a little too quickly causing Zuko’s eyes to widen, his scar stretching because of his surprise. “Uh…” Zuko quirks, but you smile smirk at him sweetly. “I…Its not…That’s, it’s. Um.” His hand comes up to scratch at the back of his neck as you look at him expectantly.
You can see him buffering in real time, the machinery in his brain short circuiting as it’s unable to process what’s happening. You stay smiling at the Fire Lord as he just stares at you, probably praying for the earth to open up and swallow him whole.
You roll your eyes at his stupor, taking it into yourself to make a move, you prep yourself up into your knees, pressing you palms flat onto the mahogany wood as you lean cross the table as Zuko sits as still as a statue. You lean close enough for your nose to hover right over his cheek and partially his scar.
“I am a bachelor, Your Highness. Veeeery lonely.” You whisper as his face reddens even more before you rush forward to press a kiss his cheek, his skin soft beneath your lips. You feel Zuko let out a harsh exhale as you pull away, standing up to your full height, looking down at him a moment before turning to walk away.
“Goodnight, Zuko” You wave as you leave.
lmk if you wanna be tagged in the next parts/be part of the taglist!!!!
first time writing for him and i hate this cause it’s like 4am and i need to sleep😔😔 yeah no i just hate this BUT I MADE THE MISTAKE OF SNEAK PEAKING IT SO NOW I HAVE TO POST IT- anyway. adult zuko has me KSKSKKDKDKDJDJDK
Content: contrary to popular belief, the fire lord can't have everything he wants. however, even he’d admit that what he wanted was troublesome in itself, which is why he forces himself to be okay with having you by his side as his advisor. [tw: MDNI, angst/fluff/smut, apothecary diaries coded, so much yearning and longing, slowburn, porn with plot, there is no power imbalance he’s afraid of your father, zuko’s a little shit, jealous!zuko, we’re already married in his head, found family trope(ish), zuko has daddy issues] wc: 4.3k
m.list | chapter three | chapter four | next chapter
You are mad at Zuko. Again.
He is a good person. He ended a war for fuck’s sake— one that lasted for over one hundred years. At sixteen, mind you. He could’ve easily said, to hell with you all, enjoy the dictator.
He doesn’t deserve this.
It was bad enough that the chancellor came along. You have arranged for Concubine Saiyo to accompany him, again. You also brought guards. Half a dozen of them. He’s staring at two of them right now, sitting way too close to you.
The strategist had sent them here, as if you alone weren’t worth a dozen soldiers yourself. He couldn’t even make it up if he tried— that’s the criteria that needed to be met in order to be accepted into the military’s elite unit.
He knows you could’ve easily declined the assistance, you just chose not to— this is you sending him a message. One he heard loud and clear last time, when you stormed back into his chambers after chasing that servant.
There was a sudden burst of light at first, making him turn to see what caused it. As he was doing so, the smell of something burning hit his nose.
You were burning his curtain to a crisp.
It wasn’t until the ash eventually got swept away by the wind when he looked at you, only to rudely be told to, “Get a fucking door.”
There was no forgetting the cold look in your eye or the sharp tone you used to cut into him in that moment.
“I won’t bother to remind you of your place, so let me remind you of mine— I’m here to keep you on that fucking throne. If your alliances were to have seen what that servant had just witnessed, they will question your intentions. They will question everything— starting with the fact that you still don't have an heir. You’ve come too far, worked too hard to mess this up. I won’t allow you to— I refuse.”
And then.
“Never. Touch me. Again.”
That was the hardest part to hear— he held you knowing he’d never hurt you, and yet, he still did.
You went on to pretend as if nothing had ever happened. No silent treatment. No smart, overly formal remarks meant to provoke him.
You continued to be his advisor.
Just not his friend.
—
Despite all the murderous air that’s recently settled in the Silk District, it’s still as magnetic as ever.
It was more than just brothels. It was endless entertainment. Sprawling markets. Exotic goods. Diverse cuisines. Festivals. You couldn’t even say the brothels were “just brothels”, the courtesans were gold standard.
It wasn’t just people from all over the nation that visited— it was people from all over the world. And for that, there’s many hotels, luxurious ones. The owner of the hotel you’re staying in was generous enough to completely shut it down for the Fire Lord’s visit.
Zuko usually doesn't require such excessive accommodations. There was a point in time when he didn't even have a roof over his head, let alone a bed. Not to mention he starved for the entirety of it— that’s not exactly something that leaves you.
It really doesn’t take much to make him happy.
He couldn’t say the same for most, if not all, the company he brought today, which is why he held off on saying anything other than a simple thank you.
The owner and the manager were waiting outside at the time of your arrival, more than happy to welcome their most special guests with refreshments. The soldiers were tasked to be Saiyo’s food taster for the trip. Yet you absentmindedly took on the task, taking a sip of the mango juice before grabbing another glass from the tray and handing it to her. You’re no stranger to travel, but you seem awfully familiar with the place.
Perhaps it has something to do with the man that just called out your name.
“My…” The man continues to walk up to you and Zuko can't help but notice how mesmerized the bastard looks. “You’re as lovely as ever.”
The look Zuko gave the guards was nothing short of startling. They knew he was a peaceful man, so the fact that he even had the capability of exuding such dark energy sent chills running down their spines.
Instantly, they unsheathed their swords and stepped forward. The worst part of it all, the stranger couldn’t feel any less threatened by the act. He holds his hands up in innocence and chuckles.
The man had long, brown hair with half of it worn up in a knot. Draped in a loose fitting robe that revealed a muscular physique. Tall. Green, cat-like eyes.
He’s very attractive.
Unfortunately.
“It’s fine,” you murmur, signaling for the guards to lower their swords. There’s not much enthusiasm in your tone as you greet him back, “Ryuko.”
“I must say it’s not very surprising to see you wearing the imperial crest on your robe, you’ve always been a clever one,” his grin grows, as confident as ever.
You have no idea how to respond to that. “And you’re…”
“The newest council member of the district,” he reveals, then redirects his attention to Zuko. “Your Majesty,” he offers a subtle bow, “Please excuse my manners— I was not aware I’d be running into an old friend today. It’s a pleasure to welcome your arrival to the district.”
The apology does nothing to ease Zuko’s irritation as he continues to assess the councilman like he was some threat.
“Likewise.”
It’s a harsh crowd, not that Ryuko cares. If anything, he expects it from those that come from the Royal Capital. Pompous fucks.
Oh well. Work is work. At least some parts of it will be more interesting now.
—
The Fire Lord can’t help but thank the gods for Concubine Saiyo’s penchant for gossip and general nosiness.
“It seems your old friend may have had a bit of a crush on you,” the concubine says with a light giggle.
Ryuko stayed for a little longer, revealing he’d be at the new facility for the majority of your week-long stay.
“You’re definitely not wrong,” you suppress a laugh, taking another sip of wine. “We were engaged at one point.”
Zuko stops mid-chew.
“Oh? May I ask what happened?”
“I had a bit of a rebellious phase and it came to an end,” you were comfortable enough to reveal.
The mood of tonight’s dinner leaned more towards the intimate side. You wouldn’t be the only one sharing personal details— the chamberlain was just complaining about his daughter not very long ago. Though you’re sure some of the wine you’ve been sipping on all evening helped.
“Care to share the details of this rebellious phase of yours?” the chamberlain shyly asks— it seems he had the penchant for gossip as well.
Since it’s the chamberlain asking and you’re looking to turn it into a learning lesson in your slightly inebriated state, you decide to humor him.
“Well,” you sigh, wondering where to start. “I moved here shortly after turning eighteen and stayed for a little over a year. It’s a wonderful place, really— very lively. Shortly after moving, I met a girl at the market. Her name was Cyra and she was a courtesan. Anyways, she was the first friend I made here—“
Saiyo puts a hand over her mouth. “Did she recruit you?”
“Saiyo, please,” Zuko snaps at her, already struggling with the fact that you were engaged. He did not need the image of you fucking more men in his head right now.
“I’m sorry, My Lord!” she squeaks out.
“I wouldn’t say she recruited me.”
“What?” his tone hardened, it goes unnoticed given everyone else’s shock. It’s a little insulting.
“Some of the girls in the brothel she worked for were firebenders and I ended up being an instructor of some sorts to elevate their fire dances. Fire dancing tends to be energetic, which is great for festivals, but not for the songs they sing and instruments they play. So, I helped them make their dances look more graceful.”
Their madam was quite generous with your compensation. You went on to give more private lessons at other brothels and somehow became a part of an underground society filled with the district’s elite. That was where you met Ryuko.
The people of the silk district didn’t care so much about what class you were in. If you had something interesting to offer, whether it be a courtesan who’s gained notoriety from simply being unforgettable or a fighter who people could confidently place their bets on, you were considered important.
Ryuko ran a fight club. He also accepted money from wealthy merchants and business owners on the side whenever they needed one of his fighters to do some of their dirty work for them— you only found out the morning his home was raided, which led to his arrest.
“And yeah— he went off to prison and I went back home.” The room’s silent, everyone‘s just staring at you with their eyes wide. “Anyways, that’s why it’s important to offer assistance, especially when it comes to a place like this. Not add more violence.”
The chancellor looks away in shame. Zuko’s not looking at you anymore, either. There is a lot he wants to say right now, many of them being questions like, who in their right mind allowed a fucking criminal to be a member of the council?
“Do you still love him?”
That as well. Thank you, Saiyo.
You hum. “I was young, I’m not sure if I truly ever did. Looking back, I don’t think the engagement would’ve lasted.”
“I see,” she took another sip of wine. “Well, I think it’s wonderful that you had the chance to explore the world for some time. I’m sure you have better judgement because of it.”
“Thank you. I’d say so, too.”
—
Accepting your fathers initial offer to bring guards was a decision made with a scattered mind and empty stomach.
The entire purpose of opening a rehabilitation program was so people could be treated with dignity and you didn’t consider how showing up with multiple guards would look up until the last moment. So to avoid looking wary of the very people you once ate meals and danced with, you only brought only one along and assigned him to the chancellor.
He’s not any more sheltered than Saiyo, and if the presence of a guard is what’ll prevent him from fainting at the sight of someone covered in tattoos, then so be it.
It didn’t take him long to figure it out.
“I can assure you I don’t need a bodyguard,” he forces out a laugh. “I understand you kids had your adventures, but—“
“Chancellor, you’re not referring to the time my father exiled me from the nation at thirteen years old, are you?” Zuko dryly asks, instantly killing the mood.
“No, no— never,” the old man stutters. “Your other adventures, w-with your friends!”
He hums. “I see.”
You stay quiet throughout the exchange, sticking to your new rule of only speaking to Zuko when you actually need to tell him something. Even if you had a change of heart, you’re not sure how that would go. He’s grown to be more sarcastic with his answers as of late, and you’d rather not be on the receiving end of it, for obvious reasons.
This is the first time you’ve felt any sympathy for the Chancellor. But at least he’s able to walk away.
The Fire Lord doesn’t allow you to do that. He spends the day quietly trailing behind you, keeping you somewhat within his reach. Not overbearing, but noticeable. To you, at least.
The new facility is bigger than the one in Republic City. A two-story with high ceilings and plenty of rooms. Lots of natural sunlight.
“They’re going to be living it up like kings in here, aren’t they?” Your comments directed more towards Jin, who’s been working day and night since his arrival. There’s a deadline and it seems like he’s trying to cut it in half— you appreciate a hard worker when you see one.
“Yes, they are,” he hums with satisfaction.
He’s a sweet man. You’re glad the Lord has been more receptive of him compared to last time.
“And here we have the meditation room,” Jin reveals. “It might be a little difficult getting them to calm their minds at first, but it’ll quickly become a favorite, as it did with—“
Jin’s cut off by random knocks. You both turn around to find the Fire Lord’s knuckles against the freshly painted wall.
It’s difficult to pinpoint what’s so awkward about it. It just looks odd. Could it be due to Jin’s immediate reaction? He fixed his posture, looking as if he were about to get yelled at.
“…Is everything to your liking, Lord Zuko?”
Your lips stay shut, averting your gaze from the man as he looks back at the director and makes an attempt at being polite.
“Mhm,” Zuko pulls his hand away from the wall, unaware of how uncomfortable Jin is at the moment. “Very sturdy.”
“Yes, my Lord,” he nods, a wave of relief crashing over him. “It’s wonderful for absorbing sound.”
“I see that— excellent work.” Zuko’s bored face doesn’t match his sudden enthusiasm. There’s a bit of a stare off afterwards, and that’s when Zuko finally notices how nervous the director is. It annoys him. “You may continue.”
“O-of course, my Lord.”
The tour goes on for another thirty minutes before you find yourselves in the backyard for lunch with the rest of the volunteers… and the Chamberlain, who you’re sure has been utterly useless in all the time you’ve been here. Still, he’s actually not all that bad to be around, and you hand him a plate.
You’re one of the last to go up to the long table that’s filled with various dishes, grabbing a little bit of everything as you walk along it.
Until you run into something at the very end, leaving you quietly startled.
“My apologies.”
“Oh.” You wouldn’t call your reaction to that familiar voice negative. You did refuse to apologize, though. “Didn’t see you there.”
“That’s alright,” Ryuko smiles, then cheekily adds another small portion of food onto your plate. “Are you on your break right now?”
“I guess,” you murmur, walking to the other side of the table, not missing how he just comes along. “May I ask why you’re following me right now?”
“Well, I was hoping we could talk.”
You deadpan. “We already are.”
“Privately,” he persists. “Just 10 minutes, please. That's all I need for an apology and explanation.”
“I’m not angry with you and there’s nothing to explain.”
“For you, perhaps. But for me?” He places his hand over his chest, eyes filled with that same stubborn look. “I’d really like to do the right thing here.”
At first you sigh, wondering why you can’t just eat your food in peace. Then you find your eyes trailing towards the table where the Lord and the Chamberlain are currently seated, along with the guard. It’s the one in the bun you’re worried about, but he seems to be in his own head right now as he silently eats, leaving the other two to conserve among themselves.
“Do you need to ask for permission?” Ryuko sounds slightly concerned when he asks.
You shouldn’t feel the need to, it’s not like you’d get in trouble. But the way your chest tightens is hard to ignore.
“No, never.” You rip your gaze away from the table to look at Ryuko again. “Fine. Ten minutes.”
—
Zuko’s not sure why you think he can’t see you. From his peripheral vision, he saw everything— you running into whatever his name is, the whole dance you two did around that table, and then you staring at him before running off with that man.
Or shall he say criminal?
It’s been over nine minutes since then and he’s currently counting down the seconds until it becomes ten.
Is that unfair? Sure.
Ten.
You may not be his lover, and made it clear that you never will be, but guess what?
Seven.
He’s still your boss.
Six.
You have a long list of duties and he is prepared to make that list even longer.
Three.
Two.
…One.
“Where are you going, my Lord?” the Chancellor asks, surprised at how he abruptly stood.
“You have a guard, you’ll be fine.” He waves a dismissive hand as he begins to walk away from the man he just offended.
The facility doesn’t have many furnishings at the moment, you could only imagine how loud his footsteps would be. Luckily, one of his many talents is the ability to go unnoticed, all thanks to his time spent as a fugitive. It’s not like he’s tiptoeing and hiding behind walls, either. He’s just quiet— even when his eye twitched after hearing a tone that was far too hushed for his liking.
It grows clearer the closer he gets, his footsteps leading him towards the second kitchen.
“…a chance?”
He's aware that finding a cramped, closed off corner to stand in isn’t very befitting for his role as the nation’s ruler, but it could be worse.
He could be a dictator.
“…I’m a man now.” Oh, shut up. “I can take care of you…”
“That doesn’t matter… It’s been years… I like my life in the Royal Capital.”
“What life is that of an Advisor?” Ryuko’s voice grows tense, as does the Lord’s fist. “You can’t tell me there’s a future in that… that man is going to chew you up and spit you out once he's done with you.”
You stutter and then there’s silence. Having to listen to someone dwindle you down like that pulls at his chest.
“You think he won’t? I was here for an entire hour and witnessed the way he looks at you… he thinks he owns you.”
“…why do you keep bringing up the Fire Lord? You keep talking about me as if I’m his pet… this facility was all my idea.”
Correct.
“And who’s taking credit for it?”
God he fucking hates this guy.
“I don’t want credit. Look, I— they’re probably looking for me by now already… I’m sorry.”
“You’re here for a week— let me prove myself to you.”
“I don’t know how you’d be able to do that.”
“I’ll find a way.”
In those last few minutes Zuko stood there in silence, waiting until the coast was clear for him to leave, he couldn’t help but think about what your ex-fiancé had said to you.
That man is going to chew you up and spit you out once he's done with you.
You had no idea how to respond to such words.
Did they hurt you?
Did you believe them, even for just a single moment?
There was a selfish part of him that wanted to believe you were hurt, for no reason other than knowing it simply wasn’t true. You’re one of the most important people in the meeting room. You said it yourself, this was all your idea. You’re no pet.
Saying such things to a proud woman like yourself was unkind, at best. The fact that someone thought they could do so sickened him. If you can’t accept all that Zuko wants to give you, he can only hope you at least use him as an example for how you should be treated.
—
“Do you ever miss living here?”
You softly hum in thought. “Sometimes. It was fun.”
“And now your life’s so serious,” Cyra blows out a puff of smoke, a wooden tobacco pipe held loosely in her hand. “I must say, though— the Fire Lord is quite handsome.”
You try to hold it in, but you burst into a small fit of laughter. She had already asked about Ryuko— you both had joked over his sudden delusions of getting you back. Now it seems like she’s moving to the newest topic.
“What’s so funny about that?” She sits up, handing the tobacco pipe to you.
You hope no one’s around to smell it on you by the time you step back inside from the balcony.
The owner of the hotel has arranged for a night of entertainment, minus the services, knowing he was being accompanied by a concubine on the trip. Seeing your old friend walk in with the rest of the entertainers was a better surprise than seeing your ex-fiancé. You had mentioned your visit in the previous letter you’d written to her and bought herself out for tonight just so she could sit here with you.
“Do you not think he’s attractive?”
There’s still a smile on your face when you finally answer, “am I blind?”
“For a moment, you had me under the impression that you were,” she laughs, laying back on the day bed and looking up at the stars. “Now that I’m here, will you tell me more about his less diplomatic side, since you won’t write about it in the letters?”
She catches on fast. You hardly mention him at all out of fear that the letters get lost in transit.
“Like what?”
“Just… random, stupid stuff.”
“Well… he gets in these moods sometimes, and it’s as if he’s a broody teenage boy,” you stifle a laugh. “It’s hard to take it seriously when I’m having to watch everyone tiptoe around a manchild.”
You tend to look away during those moments, such as today, because he’ll just become angry. Today was by far your most successful day.
He’s been in a mood since you’ve yelled at him. While you feel bad for those suffering around him, like the Chancellor, it’s better off this way. You’ve never had to threaten a servant like that before. It was subtle, of course, but a threat is a threat. Hopefully you never have to do anything like that again.
You don’t tell Cyra any of those details, though. It was best if you kept quiet on the matter.
“So the Fire Lord is a spoiled brat?”
You tilt your head and think. “A brat, yes. But I wouldn’t say spoiled. He likes his showers cold and prefers street food. I’m sure he’ll sneak out of here one night with a cloak just to grab some skewers.”
“He sounds like your type.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
Cyra giggles and moves on, knowing you wouldn’t budge whether it was true or not. She looks back inside to take a peek at the Fire Lord. He looks bored and unimpressed with all the people surrounding him, even with the woman sitting by his side.
“Does he like his concubine?”
“He likes her enough,” you murmur tentatively. “That’s the one he frequents the most.”
“Is there any reason in particular?”
You all but shrug, knowing the thought of him waiting until he’s pent up and angry to visit his concubines is a thought she’d enjoy too much, being the crude woman she is. Instead you say something about Saiyo’s personality, rather than her… physical endurance, all while trying to move on to a new topic.
Everyone’s gone by the early morning. You didn’t notice how tired you were until you watched Cyra walk out of the lobby with a pair of heavy eyes.
You didn’t expect anyone to be awake by the time you got back up to the suite, but just as you begin to pour yourself a glass of water, you hear heavy footsteps.
Zuko almost stops once your eyes meet.
You’re guessing he’s here for the same reason you are. Given his high tolerance, he tends to drink the most during any occasion alcohol is served and you can imagine how parched one could get once the effects wear off.
You look away and continue to pour, thinking he’s too tired to offer more than the hum of acknowledgment he gave as he continued to walk closer, grabbing a glass for himself.
“Was that the friend you spoke of last night?”
The urge to let out a long sigh was one you had to fight. You were reluctant to answer him, he’s not supposed to speak to you with that much ease anymore.
“Yes. Were you interested in her services?”
He stopped and just blinked, looking at you in annoyance because you knew him better than that. “I was only curious about her because she’s friends with you.”
How aggressively wholesome of him.
“I see.”
“Yeah,” he says rather mockingly in return, giving you a taste of the treatment he’d been giving to everyone else as of late.
But then he rolls it back.
“If you want to spend a day or two with her this week, you could.”
“I don’t think that’d be necessary—“
He softly cuts you off. “It’s not, but it’s a chance to spend time with her before going back to the capital.”
You pick up the glass of water, thumb smoothing over the condensation as you take a moment to think about it. “What about the facility?”
“You’ve already done your part when you first suggested it.” There’s not much warmth in his tone. Had there been any, you probably would’ve thought he had an ulterior motive. “It’s just an offer.”
“Alright. I’ll guess I’ll take it then,” you avoid direct eye contact as you murmur. “Thank you.”
“Mhm.”
You miss the way his lips try to twitch into a smile, committed to keeping his composure despite the rush of tranquility you had just given him.
He still hasn’t bothered to remember your ex-fiancé’s name, but given his goal of winning your heart over in just a week's time, it’s safe to say he’s a man of persistence.
And so is Zuko, which is why he’s decided he is going to make that goal absolutely impossible to achieve.
Content: contrary to popular belief, the fire lord can't have everything he wants. however, even he’d admit that what he wanted was troublesome in itself, which is why he forces himself to be okay with having you by his side as his advisor. [tw: MDNI, angst/fluff/smut, apothecary diaries coded, so much yearning and longing, slowburn, porn with plot, there is no power imbalance he’s afraid of your father, zuko’s a little shit, jealous!zuko, we’re already married in his head, found family trope(ish), zuko has daddy issues] wc: 4.7k
m.list | chapter two | chapter three | next chapter
With a gate of its own that requires special permission to enter, the western part of the palace grounds is considered to be one of the most guarded locations in the world. It’s where you can find the Fire Lord’s most precious treasures, his concubines.
It’s also where you can find the orphanage he had built a few years ago— a decision he needed no advising on, as it was an idea of his own. There was no better place for a child.
Zuko doesn’t expect everyone to agree with every action he makes. In fact, he encourages everyone to think for themselves. By all means, ask questions, disagree with him, show him a different perspective— allow him to serve his people.
He is a fair man.
However, the number of individuals that were against building the orphanage made him question just who exactly was he serving, because at that moment, he was surrounded by a bunch of fucking monsters.
Apparently, placing children that were of low birth in the western court would’ve sent a ‘bad message’. In other words, it’d bring their value down to that of an abandoned child.
Do you know how morally bankrupt you’d have to be to think that? The entire purpose of closing off the area was to keep women and children safe, it shouldn’t matter if they’re biologically his or not. Even the strategist saw no validity in their concerns, and he’s known for rejecting proposals, for no reason other than finding joy in others' struggles.
Needless to say, he continued with his plans.
The circumstances of one’s birth and status becomes irrelevant once they become a child of the palace. Zuko made sure of that by making an actual title out of it, all while hoping it’d be enough to appease a few nobles.
He may have also let Aang take part and have a little fun with the drafting process. It looks ridiculous on paper— the document starts off by declaring them as the cutest members of the court— the failure to recognize them as such will result in the immediate loss of one's honor.
Jokes aside, the document is as valid as it gets and it has been advised that it be treated as such. It’s one of the very few documents that mentions the death penalty— testing the legitimacy of it is not a game you want to play with him.
The orphanage takes up a fair amount of space. The home itself is double the size of a high ranked concubine’s, with a decent sized vegetable garden obstructing the view of it. If some of the concubines are anything like their families, the last thing they need is the constant reminder that their chambers could be bigger. They are more than welcome to visit the children, though— many of them actually do, along with the servant girls.
And you, surprisingly.
Aside from all the planning, you never mentioned anything about the orphanage, let alone show interest in the matter. He just assumed you weren’t the maternal type, only to catch you there six months after the palace started taking in children. He then assumed you were just there to make sure everything was running smoothly.
Wrong.
He looked closer and the sight had him reconsidering just how much he knew you because you were clearly there to give a chubby, mindless baby a tour of the garden. You gave them a tomato to gnaw on while you pointed out all the different vegetables being grown, too.
The conversation he had with you shortly after sounded more like an interrogation.
“What are you doing here?”
You looked at the child, then back at the lord who just awkwardly stood there like a child lost at the market, before stating the obvious. “Visiting.”
“Yeah, but… why?”
Your brows raised, “Am I not allowed to?”
“I mean— yeah. Of course you are, but—” he paused and gestured at the child, “why did you give the baby a tomato?”
“Because she wanted it,” you said, voice calm despite growing visibly frustrated with the questions. He gave you a puzzled look, because babies can’t fucking talk, and you further elaborated. “She was reaching for it and I let her have it.”
He almost asked if you were worried about the child choking, but you obviously weren’t since they couldn’t even break the skin of it. You seemed quite confident in your ability to keep the little human alive, which also took him by surprise. “Wait— so you come here a lot?”
You let out a sigh. “Yes.”
The questions stopped there. He didn’t want to offend you or discourage you from making future visits.
Zuko still doesn’t know your visiting schedule, you never tell him when you go even after he’s expressed wanting to visit with you. He thought today would be his lucky day since your visits have been longer due to Mira being there, but the gods never seem to grant his wishes no matter how simple they are.
The next time he would see you is at the training site, speaking with your father. He was somehow able to give you and the soldiers his full attention, because he stopped talking to you for a split second to bark at one of them to fix their posture.
He took that as his sign to leave. The strategist apparently had eyes on every side of his head and for all he knew, he’d be the next one to catch some odd form of that man’s wrath.
. . . . . .
It’s easy to forget just how big the palace is, but unfortunately for your fathers assistants, they are reminded of that fact whenever he summons you. The task is time consuming, your location changes depending on what you’re working on, and a lot of the time, you are working on multiple things at once. What’s worse is half the time you’re too busy to go see him, making their efforts all for nothing.
Today’s unlucky assistant checked every single location there was to think of before giving the west wing a try. He wasn’t a fan of the guards there, they’ve always treated him as if he were trying to break in and steal one of Lord Zuko’s concubines.
You would’ve declined to meet your father today had his assistant not been in such rough shape. Not only was he tired, but he was also afraid thanks to the guards.
“How was your trip to Republic City?”
The question made your face momentarily drop— that’s what he wanted to ask? He could’ve written you a letter!
“It was busy, but good, I guess. Found some volunteers for the Silk District project.” You don’t spare him the details. Ever. He’s the type to nitpick at them in hopes of catching a mistake that could be pinned on the Fire Lord.
He raises a brow. “You’re not too tired, are you?”
“No,” you assure him. “Not at all.”
He gives you a suspicious look before continuing. “Good— anyways, I’d like to send a few soldiers with you on your trip to the Silk District. I’ve received word that it’s only grown more violent since the incident with the brothel workers and I wouldn’t be surprised if those beasts tried to target you.”
It’s like he forgot that you tried to kill him once. He also called you a beast that day… and an evil little bitch.
You smile. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he barks out an insulting laugh. “The Fire Lord may be a ruler, but don’t expect him to play the role of a protector, too. That man has a duty to stay alive and needs to focus on saving himself. You will have soldiers there to keep an eye on you.”
You let out a laugh of your own, letting it die out into a silence that ends up getting dragged out past the point of comfort. “I understand your concerns. However, that is not necessary and I’m going to have to respectfully decline your offer.”
“It’s not an offer—”
“Father,” you’re calm as you cut him off with a simple warning.
“No, listen to me—”
“I will break them beyond belief.” You casually threaten him, making it sound as if it were an event you were looking forward to. It makes the strategist quickly drop it— he’d rather not see you go through with that promise. You take a deep breath, pleased at how easy that was to settle, and move on as if you didn’t just threaten his men. “I am fully capable of protecting myself and will be just fine without soldiers. So please, don’t worry about me.”
You don’t know what kind of nonsense that old man’s head is filled with. He knows you're strong enough to protect yourself, he also knows you would never count on anyone to save you, and yet he still does… that.
Sending people after you, demanding your presence, making you accept his help.
He was worse when you were a child, there was a point in time where his control reached even the simplest parts of your life. But that wasn’t the part that infuriated you, it was the part where he’d say you had everything.
You couldn’t even let your mind wander without being interrogated over what thoughts were in your head.
You spent your entire childhood yearning for the freedom of adulthood, only to have it ripped away while reading an acceptance letter from the most elite subdivision in the military. To be accepted into a program was considered to be the highest honor. Yet, it was just another reminder of all the choices that you never had— it wasn’t even you that applied.
Your memory of what happened afterwards is vague. You just remember showing your father what an elite soldier looked like and the experience was enough to send him into a full-blown crisis. It left him panicking over just what kind of punishment was awaiting him after death— he was certain he’d have to answer to someone for giving the world nothing but evil children.
Needless to say, he didn’t push you to go to that program. You were going to be the next head of the clan regardless, which shows you’d done enough.
The thought of you training for another few years was also deeply unsettling.
Your father has toned down since then, but there’s moments when he reverts back to the man that raised you. He still wants you to join the military, except this time around he wants you to work for him and be his replacement once he retires, just as he was for his father. He never takes no for an answer, either, and will continue to bring it up. You understand the role of an advisor doesn’t last forever, but that doesn’t mean your time as one is coming to an end soon.
The constant pursuit of control is an exhausting one. It’s become a sad sight over the years, one that makes it hard to stay angry with him.
It’d be nice to watch him take a break for once.
Unlike your fathers assistants, you don’t have to mindlessly search for the lord. There are currently no meetings, which means he’s either in his office or his personal courtyard.
Hopefully he’s in his office, you’re least likely to be met with an unwelcome surprise there.
The courtyard isn’t that bad— it’s what his courtyard leads to: his chambers. Aside from the times he’s requested your presence, it’s a place you’ve learned to heed with extreme caution.
It doesn’t get easier with time. The moment you’re met with an empty office, you’re already cursing to yourself and begging the gods that he’s clothed today. Seeing the lord naked once is already far too much and it’s already happened a handful of times throughout the years.
There is a reason why fights break out so often between concubines. It’s the same reason why Zuko laughed when that man assumed he had a small dick, and it has nothing to do with his personality.
Getting the image out of your head is a task on its own and has driven you nuts at times. It’s as stubborn as the lord himself, lingering around and refusing to fucking leave.
You soon find yourself at the entrance of his chambers, nervous as you are frustrated that he refuses to get a door. His reasoning for covering the entrance with curtains is because he enjoys the extra airflow. There’s apparently also no need for a door when he already has one at the entrance of his courtyard. Which is idiotic, in your opinion, he never hears when you knock.
You make your presence known by calling out to him. No answer. You pull the curtain aside ever so slightly and take a peek. No idiotic lord in sight.
You prepare for the worst. The first step is taken and you call out to him again, this time it’s more of a warning. Your footsteps echo throughout the dim space, and with each second that passes, you find yourself feeling more and more like an intruder.
This really is the worst job sometimes.
You call his name, again. Nothing. Your eyes land on the hallway leading to his bedroom and the doors wide open. If he were in there, he would’ve come out by now.
He’s not here.
The conclusion brings a sigh of relief as you move on with your thoughts. There’s one other place he could be and that’s the western court, which leaves you torn. If he’s with a concubine, then that means you can take the rest of the day off. It’s getting later in the afternoon though and you’d rather not end up with more work tomorrow just because you made that assumption.
You turn on your heel and begin to walk out, too lost in thought to pay much attention to what’s in front of you. It’s not until you’re just steps away from the entrance when you're startled by a figure blocking it.
Startled may be an understatement. You let out this quick, blood curdling scream that left your throat raw afterwards.
You’re dying inside from the embarrassment and Zuko thinks it’s fucking hilarious.
“What kind of an intruder gets frightened like that?”
Your heart’s still pounding against your chest from the initial fear, making it difficult to answer back, let alone argue. “I was just— I’ve been trying to look for you— god I fucking hate you— you been standing here this whole time and you couldn’t even say anything?”
"It’s not like I was hiding.” His grin widens. “I expected you to be a little more aware of your surroundings.”
“Yeah? Well not everyone’s used to living in a cave,” you say bitterly, finally looking back at him again. “Sorry I’m not used to the darkness.”
He dressed down in training pants and a tunic, but clothed nonetheless. He must’ve been getting some training in since his hair’s up, too.
“I thought you only trained in the mornings?”
He crosses his arms and leans against the entryway, then shrugs. “The afternoon’s nice sometimes when it's quiet. One of the servants told me you were looking for me on the way there— you alright?”
“I’m wonderful.” You weren’t sure what kind of an answer he was expecting— he asked as if that wasn’t your job to look for him. “Was there anything that needed to be finished before the day ended?”
He hums and thinks about it, then shakes his head. “Nope.”
“Are you sure?” you ask, giving him a skeptical look.
“Positive.”
“I don’t believe you.” There’s a tinge of defeat in your tone and the little smile he gives tells you he’s in that little mood to fuck with you. “Zuko, I’m serious— I don’t want to have more work for tomorrow.”
Oh, wow. You’re actually saying his name.
He lets out this warm, airy laugh, further making a mockery of your suffering. “I didn’t even say anything.”
“You didn’t have to!”
“No,” he laughter dies into a low hum. “You’re all done for the day. Promise.”
You just stare at him for a moment. It’s not that you don’t believe him, you do. He’s just a pest and you can’t believe he’s in charge of millions of people sometimes.
“You should come train with me— I think it might help with whatever you got bottled up right now,” he casually offers.
“You scared me senseless and then you made me go around in circles trying to get an answer,” you slowly spell it out for him, not realizing it only fills his chest with a sick sense of pride. “This is because of you.”
“And now you can get revenge” he gives the solution easily, making it sound like the opportunity of a lifetime. “You won’t have to hold back on me, either. It’s probably been a while since you got to spar with someone without worrying about killing them.”
A smile manages to break through as you prepare to shut him down, yet words come out surprisingly sincere. “It pains me to say this, but I’m not sparring with someone as important as you.”
“That’s the sweetest thing you ever said to me, you know that?” he manages to get a little remark in right before you start listing reasons why.
“Aside from Uncle Iroh, you’re pretty all alone. There is no one next in line, not even a child— that you could’ve had by now, by the way.”
“Yes, I could’ve had multiple,” he comments in amusement.
“You have multiple meetings a week and they’re all with important people, too. Their job is to notice what’s wrong, especially when it comes to you. Any concerns they have, whether it be a scratch or bruise, can be made into a problem.”
“So what you’re saying is you’re afraid to hurt me?” he asks, words dripping from his lips like warm honey.
You’d think he’d be offended or maybe even start to make fun of you for thinking that, and you’re getting neither. He’s more flattered than anything right now.
“I would love to.” you coldly break it to him, then go on to say a bunch of things that you hope he doesn’t make fun of you for. “But it’s you who puts on the Fire Lord’s crown everyday and people are safe now because of that— they get to live their lives in peace. Even if it were something light, I’m not going to spar with someone who has a title that actually means something. It’s not like I enjoy bending that much, anyway.”
Zuko finds himself completely still as he takes your words in— not tense, nor shocked, just processing them.
He thought you were kidding when you said he was too important.
It’s not like his title was something you overlooked. He’s never even had to wonder if you approved of having him as the nation’s ruler. You’ve worked with him for years— of course he had your approval, of course you thought he was competent. He just never expected you to hold him in such high regard as the Fire Lord.
Taking responsibility for his family’s crimes has been nothing short of rewarding, but with it comes a certain guilt whenever he sat on that throne— it makes him wonder if it was time to shed some of that weight.
“Thank you.” His words come out tender, eyes golden and filled with awe. He’d like to say more, but something tells him that your words haven’t caught up to you yet, and so he clears his throat and moves on. “So what’s this about never having liked bending?”
“I don’t know, I just don’t really like fighting. All the running and jumping around is tiring” You murmur, just the thought of it makes you look miserable. “I only went to training because I had to.”
“I’m sorry about that,” he hums, rubbing the back of his neck. He wasn’t around for a good chunk of time, but he’s heard about how brutal that training was— all the fainting and bloody noses due to exhaustion. “Are you happy now, at least?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re family was set on turning you into a fucking killing machine,” he huffs out a laugh, still surprised that you hated fighting this entire time. “Are you happy with where you ended up instead?”
“Mmm— yeah.” You pause and Zuko waits for the complaint. “It’d be nice if you made my job easier though and just answered my questions with a simple yes or no.”
“You know I like messing with you,” he murmurs, poking the tip of your nose and earning himself a little glare. “Makes my day a lot more fun.”
“I am not your jester.” You try to say it with a straight face, only for you both to end up having to suppress a laugh, then remember what you came here for just shortly after. “I guess I should get going then since there’s no more work for today.”
“Yeah— easy day.” He wishes you wouldn’t go right now. “…Are you returning to the north wing?”
That’s where your chambers are, on the complete opposite side of the palace grounds.
“Mhm,” you nod, shifting your stance— you can’t actually leave, he’s blocking the door.
“Your chambers are up to standard, right?” He doesn’t move, he knows exactly what he’s doing. “I remember you complaining about them once.”
“That was two years ago,” you kindly remind him, his ability to remember such a small detail leaving you slightly concerned. You only complained about a creaky cabinet. “But, nope. I’m very cozy there.”
“Can I see?”
“No,” you say as politely as possible. “Any other questions?”
He gives a contemplative hum— the longer it goes on the more concerned you grow. It’s not like you can leave since he hasn’t moved, so you’re forced to stand and wait.
Now he’s tilting his head and studying your face.
“Do you plan on ever asking anything?”
“I was still thinking about it. But since you’re in a rush right now, sure.” The fabric of his shirt stretches over his biceps as he crosses his arms, eyes lazily trail down to your lips. “Let me kiss you again.”
You let out a long sigh as you start to murmur to yourself. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“I’m not,” his brows furrow with the defensive response. “Just one.”
“Why?”
“I find it unfair that we both share the same experience, yet be in two different states of being— I was drunk.” It’s a pathetic excuse, one he just came up with.
“That’s your fault.” You almost mentioned the fact that he basically jumped on you and you had no idea about, but decided against it out of fear that it’d create an entire argument. “Besides, I was tipsy, too.”
“I still think you should let me kiss you,” he persists.
“Of course you do.”
“Can I?”
“You are a pest,” you murmur to yourself once again. “Would you like me to escort you to one of your concubines?”
“No, thanks,” he curtly says, before thinking again. “C’mon, I gave you a baby—“
You cut him off, because he did not— Mira is a child of the palace. “Don’t say it like that.”
“Alright, fine, sorry.” He lazily holds his hands out in defense. “It’s really easy if you close your eyes, by the way.”
“You're full of shit.”
“I am a man that would like a simple kiss.”
You look at him, then the entrance he’s blocking, then back at him again.
Zuko notices and smiles. “One kiss and you shall be released.”
You were right, he was blocking the door on purpose. Bastard. It takes you a moment to even take his wishes into consideration. It probably won’t be awkward afterward since it’s happened before, but then that opens the door to him asking again.
You look at him and he’s never looked more smackable with how unapologetic he is about it all.
“You’ll let me go after?”
“Mhm.”
You take more time to respond, clearly struggling with the idea of allowing something like this to happen. A part of you wants to make a run for it, but you also don’t want to find out if he’d actually catch you.
“Alright, fine,” you quietly say, already growing nervous from the grin that pulls out of him.
“Don’t look so scared,” he hums as he starts walking closer.
His words pull a slight frown from you. “It’s hard not to when you say it like that.”
He stops right in front of you and gently lifts your chin to look at him. “Like what?”
“That.” There’s less of a bite in your tone, he’s more intimidating when he’s this close. “Don’t make this any harder for me.”
He rubs his thumb over your chin, giving you a sympathetic look. “I like it when you’re sweet like this.”
Just moments later, both of hands are cupping your jaw and he’s leaning forward.
His lips are soft.
They’re not crashing into you this time and you can’t help but think about how they’re pressed against you so gently. Even with the way he takes his dear time, everything feels so light, it’s easy to breathe.
Slowly, he pulls away and you’re met with heavy lidded eyes. His hands are still cupped around your jaw, you’re not sure if you want them to pull away just yet.
His thumbs rub over your cheeks. “Would you be mad about one more?”
You know you should pull away, the disappointment for not doing so comes out in your voice. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“I know,” he murmurs, nose brushing against yours before pressing another kiss against your lips. “I’ll leave you alone after this.”
“I don’t believe you.”
His only response was another kiss. It starts off like the first, but becomes more familiar. His hand slides to the back of your neck, pulling you in and deepening it, until the faint sounds of your lips parting and moving with his could be heard.
By the time he pulls away, you’re both slightly out of breath, and you’re wondering if this is where the line should be drawn.
Zuko’s thinking the exact opposite. “Still think we shouldn’t be doing this?”
“We shouldn’t be doing this at all,” you let out a small laugh.
His hold on you is firm and when you fail to turn your face away, he looks at you in amusement. “Why are you laughing then?”
“Because I was supposed to leave after the first one.”
“Sorry about that.” He smiles and presses a kiss against your temple. “You’re allowed to admit that you’re liking this, by the way.”
“I’m not doing that,” you say, words stubborn and final.
And Zuko laughs because you wouldn’t have the privilege to come up with such an answer if you were in another scenario. You’d be admitting to all kinds of things if he could have his way with you.
He of course doesn’t say that, being the gentleman that he is. “You’re a very cruel woman, you know that?”
You press your finger into his chest. “And you are a very selfish man.”
Which probably wasn’t a very good idea, the poking and the name calling. It seems to have put an inappropriate thought in his head given the groan he had to suppress.
“I am a very selfish man,” he says in a dangerously low tone.
And then his lips are on yours because for years he’s been deprived of one of the most simple joys in life: touching a woman he likes.
So he touches you gently. He kisses you deeply. He has been fucking starving, but he savors you completely.
Until there’s metal crashing down on the floor, followed by a yelp that makes you push him away, hard. The servant’s apologizing profusely for dropping the platter that was carrying his tea and for intruding.
Then she scatters away, ashamed and embarrassed. She was under the impression that all of the Fire Lord’s intimate encounters took place in the chambers of his concubines. She was also under the impression that he only had intimate encounters with his concubines.
Which is correct. It’s also why you take off running after her. If the details of what she had just encountered began to spread, you are fucked.
notes: god i need him so fucking bad i just know he'd talk u through it wait im the writer HE DOES talk u through it
content: contrary to popular belief, the fire lord can't have everything he wants. however, even he’d admit that what he wanted was troublesome in itself, which is why he forces himself to be okay with having you by his side as his advisor.
[tw: MDNI, longfic, angst/fluff/smut, slowburn apothecary diaries coded, so much yearning and longing, porn with plot, there is no power imbalance he’s afraid of your father, zuko’s a little shit tho, we’re already married in his head]
notes: this was supposed to be a oneshot but then ideas kept popping up in my head and i thought, why don't i just turn this into a longfic like defiance?? lol. the plan is to follow these two around throughout a couple arcs, with the first one being them trying to navigate their feelings and attempting to go back to normal while trying to fix the shit show in the silk district.
Content: contrary to popular belief, the fire lord can't have everything he wants. however, even he’d admit that what he wanted was troublesome in itself, which is why he forces himself to be okay with having you by his side as his advisor. [tw: MDNI, angst/fluff/smut, apothecary diaries coded, so much yearning and longing, porn with plot, there is no power imbalance he’s afraid of your father, zuko’s a little shit tho, we’re already married in his head] wc: 4.8k
m.list | chapter one | next chapter
“You want me to do your hair?”
His lips twitch, fighting back a smile. “Yes, precisely.”
You sigh as you step into the man’s chambers, walking up to the vanity that’s more fitting for a queen, in your opinion. If only people saw this side of the fire lord. Zuko, the pretty boy. He has zero insecurities over the scar his tyrant of a father left on his face, but he’d faint at the sight of seeing too much hair shed on the marble floors of his bathhouse.
“When you decide to have me summoned like this, do you ever wonder, hm— what would her father think?” you ask as you grudgingly pick up the brush and begin to run the bristles his hair.
“I do,” he dryly responds. “I like the way you do your hair, though, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell on me. You wouldn’t want me getting in trouble, right?”
Zuko might be the fire lord, but he still has to watch his relationships with the other clans in this nation— especially with a certain hot-headed strategist that just so happens to be your father. You can only imagine his outburst upon learning that his daughter is playing with the lord's hair, rather than playing your role as his advisor.
Most fathers would be pleased by the information— not yours, he’s a little more… strict. He already doesn’t like him from a joke made over a decade ago, suggesting you’d make a fine concubine, which wasn’t taken lightly.
Your father threatened to usurp the throne, sending a chill running down a then 21 year old Zuko’s spine.
There was no way in hell he’d hand you off to the imperial palace to become a concubine. You’re the only child of his that inherited firebending. If your father had it his way, you’d be a warrior, for fucks sake.
Lord Zuko may have a dry sense of humor at times, but you have your doubts about how much of a joke that statement was, especially with how much he likes to bug you throughout the day.
Perhaps another conflict should erupt— the man has too much time on his hands. Maybe then you’d fulfill your fathers wish of finally working in the military— put your talents to use, as he’d say.
But would Lord Zuko allow the gentle hands running through his hair to commit such violence? Or would that be when he’d draw a hard line with the aggressive strategist?
As progressive as he is, you sometimes wonder just how much it extends to you. Even as children, he’d go easy on you during trainings. He’s only grown softer with you as the years passed. Despite not being a concubine yourself, you wouldn’t be surprised if he saw you as one of the flowers in his garden— one he’s not allowed to touch.
You slide the hair stick through his headpiece, securing the top knot he had you redo. It looks the same, but you hold off on making a comment. “Is that better?”
“Much better.” His eyes meet yours in the mirror, lips curving into a sly smile. “Now— what are we doing today?”
We. You hate how much he likes to emphasize that at times.
“Well,” you sigh. “Aside from the usual council meeting, nothing much. Perhaps you can visit one of your concubines today… for once.”
He huffs out a laugh. “Are you saying I don’t fuck my concubines enough?”
“Precisely,” you say almost mockingly.
It’s all they ever complain about, and honestly, you’re sure you would, too, if you were one of them. Having to wake up and sit around all day, waiting for a man who never comes. And on the rare occasion that he does, he doesn’t stay long. He’ll show up, fuck the shit out of you for a couple rounds, then leave right after. Allegedly.
“Don’t you want an heir?” you ask.
“Depends,” he hums.
With the way he’s looking at you, you can already tell what it depends on, and it has nothing to do with his current concubines. Lucky for you, he never gets the chance to actually say it because he gets interrupted right after, putting a conversation you’d rather not have to a screeching halt.
“The council is waiting for you, my Lord.”
—
The silk district was notoriously known for two things: brothels and bandits. It was the wild, wild west compared to the other districts in the capital due to high crime and the growing wealth gap. The governments always kept a watchful eye on it, which was never enough in your opinion.
Are you surprised to hear that an entire brothel, including the madame, was discovered to be slain and robbed in the early hours of this morning? Absolutely not.
“Send more military officers to patrol the area,” the chamberlain says without hesitation. “We’ve been too lenient with them. If they want bloodshed, we’ll give them bloodshed.”
Yikes, he wants to rule the area with an iron fist when they’re already clearly struggling. You can’t help but think of how much of a dictator this guy would be if he were in Zuko’s place.
You make eye contact with the lord, who’s sitting at the end of the table right next to you. In that brief moment, he notices the concern in your eyes and gives you a subtle nod.
“Perhaps we can send more public aid?” you suggest. “They’ve been testing out a new rehabilitation program in Republic City as well. I’m sure the Silk District could benefit from—“
“Nonsense,” the chamberlain cuts you off, wondering why you’re even here right now— he thought you only assisted in matters within the court, not outside of it. “I-“
“Careful,” Zuko interrupts the man rather playfully as he continues to read through the scroll. “That’s the military strategist’s daughter you’re speaking to.”
The comment makes you nearly roll your eyes, knowing the only reason why he said it was because you’re having to constantly remind him yourself when he gets too close.
The chamberlain, however, straightens up immediately. You have no idea why it took him this long to realize it. He’s been here for nearly over a year, but at least he knows now. The chamberlain can be quite rude at times, you wouldn’t want him to slip up with your father in the room. Not only would that earn him an earful of insults that are as creative as they are hurtful, but it’d also be embarrassing on your part.
That old man embarrasses you enough when he’s around. Following you around like a lost puppy after meetings, asking if you’ve eaten and if your superiors are treating you right, while side eyeing the fire lord himself. You’d agree so yourself that he has too much power in the court. He enjoys holding it over everyone’s head even more. It’s sickening, really.
You look at the chamberlain, who is now pouting, and offer an apologetic smile. “May I continue?”
“Yes, of course,” the old man nods, struggling to hide his shame.
Always one for games, Zuko finds himself suppressing a laugh, which in turn makes the chamberlain’s slouch worsen. He’s grown to find more and more amusement in his daily tasks, a trait his father would definitely disapprove of— good thing he’s not here anymore.
The rest of the meeting went by as smooth as it could be, with the fire lord, of course, praising the chancellor in the end for being so well behaved, pretending to wonder what could’ve changed his usual demeanor. The usual teasings, all while you once again found yourself thinking of how light he’s become. Even after receiving such upsetting news, he stayed calm while finding a solution.
A humane one.
No longer the grumpy, angsty boy you grew up with. He’s actually quite charming. But you keep that to yourself.
The palace grounds are empty, as they should be during the afternoon. Everyone’s off either eating, napping, or tending to duties such as cooking or cleaning. It’s quiet, surprisingly peaceful. Your footsteps echo throughout the breezeway as Zuko defies the basic etiquette of walking ahead of you as a ruler should. Instead, the bastard walks a little slower than you. If given the opportunity, he’d turn it into a mini competition of who could walk the slowest, up until you both come to a full stop, with him looking at you all smug.
“Your chambers are this way,” you remind the said bastard as if he’d already forgotten.
He doesn’t bother to look back as he responds, walking down a gravel path leading directly to the flower garden. “How about we take a detour today, hm?”
You watch him for a moment, waiting to see if he’d stop. He doesn’t, and you shouldn’t be surprised by it. You’re able to catch up with him in just seconds given his slow pace, this time not bothering to walk behind him as he’s clearly in the mood to be extra stubborn today.
You’re all alone and away from the hearing distance of anyone else, yet you still choose to speak quietly as you start to gently tease the man. “What a surprise to see the king taking some time to enjoy his garden.”
He lets out a soft laugh that fades into a hum. “Only around a select few.”
“Oh, wow,” you pretend to be impressed. “How charitable.”
“It’s an honor that you think so,” he says, placing a hand over his chest to add to the theatrics, trying not to laugh once again. “Tell me, when was the last time you walked through here?”
You hum as you walk further into the sprawling garden filled with wooden arches covered with green vines and flowers in full bloom. “Can’t say I actually remember when.”
“That’s a shame. I had the gardener plant new rose bushes,” he murmurs. “Wanted to ask what you thought of them.”
“I think they’re lovely,” you admit, softly pinching a petal, rubbing your thumb over the velvety skin.
He smiles. “I figured.”
They were your favorite after all.
Why is he like this? The garden’s already filled with enough flowers. A new section wasn’t needed.
Again, he’s just bored.
In an attempt to keep the conversation from getting any more personal, you change the subject. “Are you looking forward to your trip to Republic City?”
At the end of the meeting, it was decided that he’d visit with the purpose of getting more information about the new rehabilitation program the city was rolling out. While the chancellor wanted to take a more aggressive approach, he decided to take a more peaceful route. It’s admirable how hands on he’s chosen to be since taking his father's place.
“Mhm. It’ll be nice catching up with some old friends while I’m there—“ he cuts himself off and looks at you with slight suspicion, “you’re going, right?”
You never said you would, nor did you want to, honestly. It’d be nice to take a break. “I’m sure you and some of your subordinates can handle it.”
“Weren’t you the one who came up with the idea, though?” his tone slightly clips as he reminds you.
“I was,” you respond tentatively, taking back your thoughts from earlier as you look him in the eyes.
This man looks like he’s about to throw a fit.
Zuko opens his mouth again, already knowing he shouldn’t be this pushy towards you, of all people, but he is far from perfect.
So with a forced smile and all the resolve in the world, he murmurs, “you’re going.”
You smile back despite feeling an annoyed heat creep up your neck, heart starting to pick up. “Alright.”
—
Imagine being the fire lord, a literal ruler, and getting the cold shoulder from your own advisor. Every answer is so curt and clinical, and it’s going to drive him up the wall.
Yes, my lord. Of course, my lord. Apologies, my lord.
Give him a fucking break.
As if you weren’t punishing him enough, you went ahead and had two of his concubines “accompany” him on the trip. It’s not like he can say no to that, either, since it’s considered to be one of his duties. Not to mention they both come from high-ranking families that would not be very pleased to hear of their neglect.
So now he has to deal with two spoiled, pent-up brats hanging on him during the entirety of this flight, all while trying not to glare at the biggest brat of them all— you, as you sit directly across from him, reading probably what’s some pathetic romance novel.
This is fucking ridiculous. You haven’t looked at him once since you first sat down.
You’re no better than him. There was a strike of lightning in the direction you walked off in, and given how it was a perfectly sunny day, he’s pointing his finger at you for the damages done in the east wing, despite keeping his mouth shut on the matter. Complain about being dragged to Republic City all you want, but you still have it better than most. If you really did have it that bad, you would’ve been punished for such an offense.
Like, seriously? Blowing shit up, like a fucking child— a terrifying one, to be frank, you are absolutely your father’s daughter— just because you had to do your job? Grow up. His grandfather’s statue was shattered in the midst of it all, thanks to you. You’re lucky he never liked the bastard.
In protest, you’re dressed like a noble's daughter rather than a member of the court. Wearing the finest silk and adorned in gold imported from the Earth nation, quietly refusing to represent your actual nation as you claim to be representing your clan— proof that you have enough power on your own to be acting like he’s actively denying you of basic human rights.
As if he even cared about your attire. Be his guest! You look fucking hot. Someone might even mistake you for one of his concubines, and he might just not correct them, since you think you’re more petty than he is.
Zuko gets pulled out of his thoughts when Concubine Aika speaks, still leaning against him and rubbing on his chest. She asked what book you were reading, which is when you finally looked up from it.
“It’s sort of an adventure novel.” You look at the cover, speaking to her with a certain warmth you’ve been depriving him of. “It’s about a girl escaping an abusive orphanage once she turns 18 and follows her journey for the next 10 years.”
So now you’re fantasizing about leaving him? Good luck with that.
“You look troubled, my lord,” the woman to his right, Concubine Saiyo, says. She’s leaning against him as well, now tracing her fingers along his jaw. “Are you alright?”
“M’fine,” he murmurs, trying to fix his face as he takes a sip of sake. “It’s been a long flight.”
“There’s a private cabin you can retreat to, if you’d like,” you suggest, going back to your little book, missing the way you just made the lord’s eye twitch.
“I know,” he says.
It’s his airship.
Without warning, he gets up from his seat. Was it a little rude? Perhaps. But surely the two women beside him could understand what feeling hounded could do to someone. They don’t, they do their jobs and get up as well, which he understands. However, Zuko’s not in the fucking mood right now and waves a dismissive hand.
“No need,” he curtly says, making his way to the back of the airship. “I just want to close my eyes for a bit.”
. . . . . .
The trip starts off strong with a banquet being held in honor of the fire lord's arrival.
Contrary to Zuko’s wishes, nobody’s stupid enough to mistake you for one of his concubines. At least not within the circle of people you’re mingling with tonight, who all recognize your family's crest engraved on your hairpin.
They were an ambitious bunch that spread all over once Zuko came into power— reaching amongst the highest positions within the military, medicine, and even education.
Funny enough, your position in the court was nothing special in comparison to some of your relatives’ achievements. Some are even bothered by the fact. Being the first of all your cousins to master the art of firebending, being your grandfather's favorite solely for bending lightning with the same grace as he did in his prime, all while excelling in your studies.
All of that potential, just wasted on being the lord’s “pet”.
You don’t have much of an opinion on the disappointment some of them have expressed in the past, though it would’ve been nice if their words had stayed behind closed doors. You didn’t want to hear any of it. If you truly wanted to make use of that said potential, you would’ve worked directly under your father as his subordinate.
Maybe it was the result of growing up feeling like you were enough. You have nothing to prove, and quite frankly, you’re content with having a role that really only requires you to share your opinions with a ruler that shares the same ideals as you… for the most part.
If only he’d also agree that you two spend way too much time together.
Luckily, you’re not required to be by his side tonight since you’re attending the banquet as a representative of your clan— something Zuko had no clue about until the moment you stepped onto the airship, which had him looking like he was about to blow a fucking gasket. He absolutely sucks at masking his frustrations. You’re surprised his concubines still had the courage to cuddle up with him. He looked like he was 2.5 seconds away from throwing you off the ship mid-flight.
Zuko would never do that, by the way, but you’re sure he was daydreaming about it.
But even then, with all the distance between you tonight, you can still feel his eyes on you. Just watching and waiting for you to do something he didn’t like. Very masochistic considering how he wouldn’t confront you if you did end up doing something wrong in his eyes.
You spend the entire night avoiding eye contact, which isn’t too hard given how all you’ve done is catch up with old peers from school and relatives who’ve decided to move here to start new lives.
The relatives you got along with, that is.
You were enjoying yourself. Truly. Until Sokka called you over to their table.
Funny how Zuko wasn’t looking at you then and was instead stuffing his face with spicy dumplings, then downing it with whatever liquor was in his cup.
You walk over with two thoughts running through your head— please don’t let this man be as drunk as Sokka and Aang, and don’t let this be a conversation about how work was been. Sokka tends to ask those things at the wrong time, despite his heart being in the right place.
This time around, it’s not Sokka.
“How’s our flaming hot lord treating you?” Aang asks, throwing an arm around a very drunk Zuko, who’s laughing his ass off over the avatar’s words for once.
Your lips may have twitched a little, as well. Only because Aang gave even less fucks when in an inebriated state.
“Oh, you know— the usual.” You let out a lighthearted laugh, and only you notice the way Zuko’s face momentarily drops.
The air around him quickly screams ‘don’t fuck with me’, then settles back into something more suitable for someone who’s already had half their water weight in alcohol.
“C’mon, you can do better than that,” Zuko forces out a laugh, leaning back in his seat.
You laugh a little harder. “Can I?”
“Yeah, you can.”
Sokka lets out this weird, giddy gasp because he loves drama, and cuts in. “Are you two fighting?”
“No.”
“No.”
You and Zuko look at each other after shutting down Sokka’s question at the same time. The fake smiles you’re wearing are not helping your case at all.
“Where’s Katara? I’ve been wondering where she’s been this whole time,” you ask in an attempt to keep the energy between you from getting any more awkward than it already is
Aang grows a little pale— the instant karma feels nice. “She’s a little sick tonight.”
There’s a bit of fear in his voice. She’s totally pregnant. Not that you say that. Instead, you just point in some random direction behind you. “That’s terrible— my cousin actually just mentioned a bug going around. I hope she feels better soon.”
“Thank you,” the man lets out a sigh of relief, allowing himself to be delusional for just one more night.
“What about Toph?”
“Home. Asleep.” Sokka rolls his eyes. “She’s like a little old lady now. You’ll see her tomorrow, though, she’s been volunteering at the center.”
“Volunteering or beating everyone into submission?” Zuko murmurs, and they all erupt in laughter. “She probably runs that place like the military.”
You find yourself starting to zone out as the conversation moves on to a different topic. You’d like to blame some of the wine you’ve been sipping on throughout the night for that. Everything starts to melt together— the live music, the endless chatter in every which direction. The only thing that pulls you out of it is seeing another one of your cousins who had just arrived, waving at you, and you don't shy away from taking that as an opportunity to excuse yourself.
Aang and Sokka were as kind as usual when you said your goodbyes. Zuko, on the other hand, was harder to read through the pathetic excuse of a smile he gave you. One only meant to save face.
If only he knew just how much worse he makes things sometimes. Although they’re rare, this isn’t the first fight you two have been in. Perhaps you have been a little petty towards the man, but it’s not you who grows so frustrated at someone’s anger that you begin to hold a grudge yourself.
You arrive back to your room in the early morning with the regret of not cutting yourself off from the drinks sooner than you did. You wouldn’t say you were drunk, but you were definitely tipsy as you started to shed layers of clothes and jewelry to get in the hot bath that had been prepared prior to your return.
Aang may be childish at times, but fuck was he a great host. Or maybe it was Katara who had all of these amenities set up for you. Candles and bath salts— you could die a happy woman right now as you settle into the stone tub, taking deep breaths, letting your muscles relax.
Twenty minutes in, you hear rattling and heavy footsteps that seem to hit the ground with more confusion than the determination an attacker would usually have. It forces you to leave the warmth of your bath, slipping on a robe. Getting hit with annoyance rather than fear may be a little foolish. Overconfident, even. But there’s still alcohol running through your veins, and you aren’t the pride and joy of your clan for no reason— you can absolutely hold your own in a fight.
When you walk out of the bathroom, you come face to face with exactly who you were thinking of.
“Fuck,” he looks away for a moment, regretting his decision thinking it was okay to just walk in.
Zuko didn’t think you’d be bathing, for some odd, stupid reason. Judging by the fact that he’s still wearing his usual day clothing and his hairs not up in a bun, it’s safe to assume he went straight here after leaving the banquet.
You let out a long sigh. “God— what are you doing here?”
You don’t even sound mad— just disappointed that you have to see him once more before you lay your head to rest, which slightly hurts the man’s ego. Truth be told, he came here to argue with you, but even in his drunken state, he’s finding it quite difficult to do so since he looks like a fucking pervert now.
“Your comment from earlier— what the hell was that about?” Zuko sounds more wounded than anything right now.
You cross your arms, leaning against the door frame that connects the room to the bathroom. “What comment?”
“The usual,” he says with air quotes. “Do you not like me anymore or something?”
“You’re seriously asking me that right now?” Your face twists, just dumbfounded at this point. “You ask me that as if I don’t work for you?”
He scoffs. “So what, you’re saying I’m not your friend now?”
“I mean, yeah— you are, but I’m still your subordinate at the end of the day,” you attempt to spell it out for him, trying to get it through his brain that he can’t just act like you two are a pair of besties.
But he just continues to argue with you.
“Really? ‘Cause last time I checked, people don’t fight their superiors.”
No, they do not. You’re not sure why you even tried to make that an argument, the line between you has blurred a long time ago.
“You know what, just— forget it.”
The thing is, you're not the best at taking accountability. Most of the arguments you’ve had with him have been swept under the rug after a while. Zuko's not having that right now, though.
“Hm— actually, no— I don’t think I will,” he stubbornly says. “You have been punishing me for fucking weeks now and now you just want me to forget it?”
Punishing him?
You roll your eyes, muttering “oh my god” under your breath, not even bothering to look him straight in the eyes anymore as you walk to the nightstand and pick up a small jar of body cream.
“We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow,” you say dismissively, rubbing the jasmine-scented cream into your hands. “I need to go to sleep, and so should you, honestly.”
It doesn’t matter how well he can handle his alcohol— he reeks of it.
“I’m trying to talk to you right now so I don’t have to deal with your attitude tomorrow,” he says, as if he hasn’t had an attitude himself the last couple of weeks.
“Don’t worry, you won’t have to,” you murmur back.
What feels like minutes pass after your pathetic attempt to settle your issues with him. At first, he just lets out a sigh, trying to keep his composure, but then he laughs under his breath.
“So that’s it?” he asks in a condescending tone. “We’re all good now?”
“Yes. Goodnight, Zuko,” you hum.
More silence follows after. You can just feel his eyes on you despite still facing away, now reaching for some hair oil, waiting for him to leave.
He never does. Even after working the product into your hair, you have yet to hear the door to your room close, making you grow wary.
There are many things telling you not to turn around at the moment— your blurred mind and tensed body. But even you make mistakes, lots of them with Zuko, and so you finally turn around.
His lips are on yours.
You don’t know how long he’d been standing directly behind you, you never even heard his footsteps. All you know is his hands are snaked behind your neck and he’s kissing you and you’re letting him.
It takes you a moment to realize you’re kissing him back— too focused on how soft his lips are, how his tongue glides across your lower lip before slipping inside, so commanding yet so gentle.
Then you sober up— pressing your palm flat against his chest and pushing him back so you two can look at each other, eyes wide and filled with instant regret.
“What the hell was that?” you try to snap at him, but the sharp edge was dulled from the start, already fearing what’ll change between you from this moment forward.
“I— fuck,” he stutters, taking another step back. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
Immediately, you cut him off. “No, you shouldn’t have and you know that.”
“I know.” It sounds like a plea coming from him as his chest tightens. “I’m sorry.”
Even you start to look apologetic, which breaks his heart a little since you did nothing wrong. The one who crossed the line was him, after all. “You should go. You’re drunk.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but then closed it shortly after. There was nothing to say.
And so he slowly nods and turns around, still in shock by his own actions as he begins to walk away, leaving you to deal with the aftermath of what the fuck just happened on your own.
This was going to be the longest work trip of your life.
notes: i hope u guys enjoyed this first chapter!! this was supposed to be a oneshot but then ideas kept popping up in my head and i thought, why don't i just turn this into a longfic like defiance lol. the plan is to follow these two around throughout a couple arcs, with the first one being them trying to navigate their feelings and attempting to go back to normal while trying to fix the shit show in the silk district.
mr big scary let me ask my wife firelord who always has to run things by you not because you’re controlling or demanding but because he wants you to know what he’s doing, wants you to be included and wants you to approve of his decisions because when you’re happy, he’s happy.
“ fire lord zuko, the earth emissary would like to have a dinner. when is suitable for you?”
“let me ask my wife and i’ll get back to you.”
“lord zuko, the festival of fire is coming up, will you be in attendance?”
“not sure. let me ask my wife.”
“sir. the avatar has requested your help. will you be going to lend aid?”
“if my wife grants me permission, yes.”
“my wife said we need more opportunities for women in government. lets look into that.”
“i cannot attend that meeting. i have lunch plans with my wife.”
even when doing the most mundane and tedious things like new gowns or new stationery for royal decrees, you’re there to give your opinion.
“does my wife like it?”
“what does the firelady think?”
“ask my wife, she has the final say. whatever she wants, goes.”
big scary i worship the ground my wife walks on fire lord
turnnoffyourmind
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romaincrisis
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