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Rose Garden Dreams

Pairing: FireLord!Zuko x RoyalAdvisor!Reader

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: 7.5k

m.list | chapter four | chapter five | next chapter

You’ve been taking advantage of the Fire Lord. He remembered saying you could take one or two days off— it’s been four. He never thought he would see that from you.

Not that he cares.

By all means, use him. Watching you abandon your duties these last few days has been quite the treat.

Ryuko has asked about you. Not directly, but to other people. Zuko’s made sure to mention you around him, though. It was his own little way to point out your absence, while you’re out doing god knows what.

Zuko didn’t want to know at first.

Unfortunately, there’s only so much patience left once he’s done playing his role as the Fire Lord. He just couldn’t help himself.

To what, exactly? Well…

“Zuzu?”

He stills, immediately recognizing that nasally little voice. Not to mention there’s only one person that would call him by that name.

Azula. She practically goes on to nag him, after randomly catching him at some food stall at the night market.

“You dethroned me just so you could prance around town in a cape?”

Funny enough, she would’ve matched with her brother if she’d just worn her hood. It might be a little risky, but most people wouldn’t know what she looked like, anyway. She could get away with showing her face for the most part.

Despite the initial whiplash from running into his sister, who’s been missing for well over a decade and is still at the top of the nation’s Most Wanted list, he’s quick to defend himself.

“I’m not prancing around town,” he grimaces. “And what do you mean dethroned? You were never even crowned.”

“Yeah, because you interrupted my coronation!”

Their sudden quarrel catches the eyes of a few people walking by, along with the old vendor that was just trying to hand him his chicken skewers. Thankfully, everyone’s quick to mind their own in the Silk District. Fights were common enough— just keep walking and you’re sure to be safe once the brawl starts.

It’s as if they were children again, arguing over absolute nonsense. At first it was a dispute over her brief stint as the nation’s first Fire Lady. Now, they’re just throwing accusations at each other.

“Please don’t tell me you’re working in a brothel now,” Zuko grumbles, fully prepared to give her some money so she wouldn't have to be indebted to one.

“I am not!” she scoffs. “And what are you doing here?! Last I heard, you have nearly twice the amount of concubines Father had kept.”

His eyes widened. Now was not the time to ask what he was up to. It’s not like he can tell her he’s been trying to scope you out all night, so he’s left scrambling.

“Most of them were gifted to me,” he barely explains, more so stuck on where she heard that from. Azula made it sound like he hoarded them.

She continued to press him. “You never answered why you’re walking around town with a hooded cape.”

“I wanted some normalcy,” he throws his arms out, hoping that’d be enough for her.

Azula raises a brow. “So you go to the sex capital of the world?”

“I’m not here for the fucking brothels,” he suddenly snaps at her, but quickly collects himself as it only made him look guilty. “Sorry. I’m here for work. We’re in the middle of opening a rehabilitation facility.”

“Right,” she blandly says, crossing her arms and taking a moment to stare him down, lost on what else to say. At least she believes him. She would’ve continued to interrogate him, had she not.

Zuko just looks at her as well. Not meaning to participate in a staring competition as he tried to figure out what about her had changed. Something felt off.

Then her brows pinch together.

It’s the eyes.

She thinks she’s glaring at him right now, but they’ve softened. And there’s actually a trace of light behind her golden eyes, rather than the dull orbs demonically possessed individuals often have. The only feature she shared with their father was that sadistic look he’d get on his face whenever someone angered him, yet there was no trace of Ozai in all her visible annoyance.

All he sees is their mother.

“So, how’s father?” she asks casually, figuring she might as well ask about the old bastard since he’s here.

Zuko lets out a disappointed sigh, not bothering to hide how peeved the thought of their father made him. “He spends his days drawing flowers and demanding he be given dignity.”

She sighs as well, because he just sounds pathetic at this point. “You don’t give into his demands… right?”

“Oh, no, never,” he says with a reassuring tone. “He’s tolerable for the most part, but there’s periods where he needs more… help.”

His fathers fall from grace needs to be studied at this point. He will scream, cry, break his little board games that he hardly deserved to begin with, and demand new ones. Ozai drew a portrait of him once when he was 21. He was without a scar. It was touching, sort of. Really fucking odd, though. He didn’t exactly listen to his father when he explained the sentiment behind it, but he understood why there would be one.

Zuko hung around until the servant brought his father dinner that night. Guess what happened when he didn’t allow the servant to give his father a slice of cake with his dinner?

His father took the portrait down and drew a scar on both his eyes.

The concept of self-regulation was completely foreign to his father—antagonizing him may as well have been a form of psychological warfare. Which is why Zuko started eating that same slice of cake as he watched his father have the meltdown of a century.

“Yeah, Father is… Father.”

There was no need to elaborate, Azula completely understood what he meant by that. “Do they still whip prisoners?”

Zuko pauses and looks at her as if she’s gone mad. “No….. that’s illegal.”

She shrugs. “Some people only respond to physical discipline.”

He hums tentatively, “Father usually behaves after a day or two of being put on a liquid diet.”

She finds herself coughing out a laugh, surprised he’d even do such a thing. She remembers the day Zuko visited her and Ozai in prison. He could’ve easily tortured the information he needed out of them, but instead he walked in with a tray of tea as he spoke of wanting to treat them with dignity— he used that word less than a handful of times, but his father continues to cling to it for his life.

She couldn’t wrap her head around how someone could be so gullible, it disgusted her.

Even when he cut her a deal, allowing her to walk freely as they looked for their mother, he disgusted her. He was weak for offering her tea, weak for allowing her to accompany him unrestrained, weak for letting her attack him during the trip. She was his tormentor and still, he forgave her, over and over again.

She wonders if she’ll ever grow the strength to thank him for being the only one to show her forgiveness.

“And mother?” she asks, struggling to hide her cautious tone.

“She’s good. Still in Hira’a.” Zuko pauses, eyes filled with both relief and a little sorrow. He has a good bond with his mother and had always believed Azula deserved the same. He’d love nothing more than to reunite the two. “She never fails to bring you up whenever I see her.”

How sweet.

And mildly triggering, given all the years she spent missing a woman who had forgotten her. She quickly catches herself from slipping into her thoughts any further—there was no need to punish herself like that, she had already suffered enough.

It’s been over ten years since they’ve seen each other, and she still wasn’t ready. But, even in all her resentment, she still found herself wishing she could tell that she often thought of her, too.

Rather than giving him a definitive no, she just rolled her eyes.

Perhaps she has grown softer throughout the years. The last time she randomly appeared, she promised to make it her life’s mission to drive her brother to the brink of insanity in hopes to make him more like their father. Granted, she was fucking losing it at that time, having unresolved trauma and what not. Being locked in a cage like a fucking animal only made her worse. The final blow was when she was released to help find their mother, only to find out she chose to have the memory of them completely wiped.

Oh, that fucked her up.

Azula refused to admit it at the time, but she’s closer to admitting it now after years of solitude. A changed woman, she was. Zuko should consider himself lucky to get away with just an argument today. Had their reunion been a few years sooner, that argument would’ve ended with the entire market burning down in flames.

But, she was his little sister at the end of the day, and there’s no doubt she'd still be annoyed at the sight of him again the next time they inevitably run into each other.

Azula closes her eyes and sighs, then lightly nods her head, “Well, I’m off. It was nice seeing you, Zuzu.”

It didn’t sound like it. “Wh— hold on, where are you going?”

“A temple,” she vaguely says, not stupid enough to tell him exactly which one. Zuko probably would’ve let her be, but one couldn’t be too safe. “Have fun in the brothels!”

“I already told you I wasn’t here for the brothels— Azula, wait,” he calls after her, more confused than anything. “Do you need money or anything?”

His sister stops to consider it. She may have some at the moment, but prior to passing by, she was pretty low on silver. The only reason why she came here was to pick-pocket a few people.

And by pick pocket, she means breaking into the homes of local lords and raiding their safes. Easy money. Can’t feel too bad about it either since they’re notoriously known for their corruption at a local level. She may be a criminal, but she was ethical.

“How much?” she asks, reluctant to jump right into accepting it.

He casually reaches into his pockets and pulls out a pouch of gold coins, lazily sifting through them before realizing he never had a number in his head.

“Wow look at the Fire Lord giving a fugitive money,” she murmurs, earning herself a disappointed look from Zuko. “What?”

“Don’t say that.”

She shrugs. “It’s the truth.”

“Just take the fucking pouch,” he sighs, shoving the bag into her hands. “And please make it last.”

“Aww, are you saying that because you don’t know when you’ll see me next? Are you gonna be sad after this?” she continues to poke at him.

Suddenly, he feels a headache starting to blossom against the right side of his skull. “I don’t think I will,” he blandly says, rubbing his temple as she begins to laugh at him. “Will you do me a favor though since I gave you money?”

The question wipes the smile off her face, she hates being indebted to others.

“The next time I see you, I want it to be with Mother.” She opens her mouth, probably to say something along the lines of not telling her what to do, but he doesn’t give her a chance to say it. “It can be five years from now or even twenty. Just go to mom whenever you’re ready and I’ll meet you two there.”

She blinks. “Wait, does that mean I’m not an enemy of the state anymore?”

“Oh no, you still are,” he lets out a laugh. “But if you have an emergency and really, really need help, send a letter to Mom.”

She doesn’t say much at first. She was actually moved for once and it showed.

“Thank you,” she says with a barely contained smile.

It was natural for him to give her a weird look, it was the first time she’s ever expressed genuine appreciation. Not quite grasping how much weight those two words held. Maybe she’ll tell him one day, but for now, it wasn’t her problem.

“You can thank me by going to mom’s one day.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” Azula doesn't sound very serious when she turns to leave, but she really was and already had a date in mind. It would be sooner than five years, but enough to work on those flashbacks.

He watches her run off, scoffing out a laugh once she disappears into the crowd of people, leaving as fast as she appeared.

Alone, again.

Well, he’s not alone. He has his uncle.

It’s time like this when he really remembers just how different his life has turned out. It wasn’t bad. Bittersweet, yes. But not bad. After years of being subjected to his Father’s cruelty and abuse, everyone’s moved on with their own lives

Even Azula.

Then it dawned on him that he had just committed treason. He wasn’t supposed to let a criminal like her continue to roam the earth without consequence. Yet he did. He gave her money, too— way too much of it. Had one of the imperial guards caught her, she would’ve been behind bars, just like their father.

But at that moment, he wasn’t the one who held the throne. He was simply someone’s brother. Their father may have played favorites, but he recognized long ago that he has scarred them both and that she, too, deserved freedom.

—

Running around with Cyra has made you realize just how much you missed the crude humor and self-indulgent ways of the Silk District.

Those who served the imperial court were the complete opposite. So proper and uptight. The amount of self-importance some had without contributing anything remarkable to the world was exhausting. You don’t think you would’ve lasted as long as you have had it not been for who you served.

Although, he’s been a little too lenient with you during this trip. He hasn’t told you to come back to work once, which is why you’ve consistently gotten back to the hotel as late as 2:00 AM. You very well may be pushing your luck, but he never set a curfew for you and neither has Chamberlain.

You were a bit nervous to see the Lord’s reaction after your first night. Being met with nothing but indifference only made it worse, making you question what his true intentions were. The worries lingered in the back of your mind until a couple nights later.

There was nothing more anti-climatic than catching a glimpse of a cloaked man from the corner of your eye.

Wearing a cloak here wasn’t an unusual sight, citizens covered themselves for all different reasons. Some, such as yourself in the past, did it purely for the look. Some did it to conceal their identities. It was the latter for the Fire Lord, who was apparently spying on you.

Zuko rules over an entire nation, yet has the ability to shrink his presence down to that of a disregarded and overlooked vagrant. He's quiet when he wants to be, taking up such little space he may as well vanish into thin air. It’s quite the talent, allowing him to slip away into normalcy for an hour or two whenever the grandiosity of the palace became too much.

Unfortunately for Zuko, you can spot him in a crowd. Easily.

Maybe it’s from all the time you’ve spent with him—hours spent locked away in an office, days spent traveling, weeks spent visiting in foreign lands.

Or maybe it’s something more. The possibility was not a thought you liked to entertain. It’s not because the thought itself wasn’t ridiculous—it absolutely was ridiculous. It’s as if the God’s decided to make a mockery out of your life when they had decided on your reality.

You can just imagine them all brainstorming your fate in some heavenly council room.

“Let’s give her someone she can’t have,” one says. “Perhaps Azulon’s second grandson?”

“I love it. Put her in the least liked clan,” says another. “The boy will bring an era of peace and let their union create unrest within the other clans.”

“Brilliant. Make their connection devastatingly magnetic, as well,” the God of Misfortune excitedly says, followed by the room erupting in evil laughter.

And devastating it was.

Zuko was well over a hundred feet away, just another body swallowed by a sea of people. Many walked past him, some even stared in his direction as their minds drifted off, but no one truly noticed. He was insignificant. Invisible.

The gods continued to laugh, because you had noticed him, anyway.

It was beyond just the odd, occasional pull. It was as if you were connected by a stubborn invisible string that enjoyed tugging at you, constantly reminding you of the person at the end of it.

You disappeared shortly after noticing him, but quickly decided to have a little fun. You had brought Cyra along—weaving in and out of shops and alleyways.

“You’re going to drive him mad,” she had said.

“He already is,” you giggled at the thought of him losing sight of you once more.

“I’m sure he just wanted to see if you were okay. You look like you’ve forgotten all about your duties! He’s doing no less than a hired guard would. It’s quite flattering, actually.”

“He is a lunatic that’s doing it for free.”

Cyra was more perceptive than that, but kept her own conclusions to herself, knowing the troubles it’d bring. It was a matter you chose to be blind to, and she believed you were better for it.

That was last night.

Tonight, a local lord was throwing a banquet in honor of the Fire Lord’s visit.

Back being the most important man in the room, he went. He’d be lying if he said he’d been looking forward to attending, but at least this one wasn’t as formal compared to most of the banquet’s he’s attended in the past.

Zuko tried to enjoy it. He drank with those that wanted to share a drink with him, laughed as he listened to the stories the locals shared and said just enough to keep a conversation alive. It wasn’t enough, though— these are people that have thrived in a culture that rewards ambition and resilience. They were more interested in getting to know him as a person, and while appreciates being seen as one, he will not be contributing to a conversation about personal hardships.

He hates conversations that lead to praise or pity. He’s never wanted to leave a place more. But that would be seen as rude, so he’s stuck having to redirect conversations, all while trying not to pay too much attention to you.

To say you’re gone the entire day is not an exaggeration—neither him nor Chamberlain have gotten the chance to catch up with you. But he had a feeling you’d pop up. When you did, he realized he underestimated just how well connected you were.

He’s never seen you this comfortable at an event before. Nor has he ever seen you in such a tight dress. He is thankful for the robe you paired with it for the evening. It did a wonderful job at keeping the inappropriate thoughts he would’ve had at bay.

Lucky for him, Saiyo chose not to come tonight, crossing off whatever worries he would’ve had if he’d gotten caught for looking at you too much.

“I couldn’t imagine the pressure of having all of those concubines.”

Zuko genuinely laughs this time, Lord Joji was quite the empath. “They’re terrifying. You’d think having their own secluded area would bring them some peace and serenity, yet they spend their days brawling with each other.”

The words slipped right out once it was just him and the host. He would’ve never shared that at any other event.

Joji’s clearly enjoying it, laughing at the image in his head. “Perhaps it’s time to bring in some fake eunuchs,” he sips his sake. “Declutter the court, so to speak.”

“Wait, what?”

He tenses at the sudden drop in Zuko’s tone. He couldn’t tell if he was offended or not, but he grew anxious as the silence went on. “I was just kidding, by the way,” he forces out a laugh. “It’s uh— typical humor around here. I always forget how crass we can be at times. Haha… I’m sure we look like a bunch of heathens to the rest of the world.”

“Huh?” The sudden self-depreciation pulled Zuko out of his thoughts. “Oh no, the humor here is wonderful. The eunuch idea is fucking genius.”

Joji pauses and looks at him for a moment, stuck on how he called it an idea. “It worked well for my grand uncle,” he says, testing the waters. “He was able to bring the house back down to a comfortable number in no time.”

“Is that so?” There’s a bit of skepticism in his tone. “Probably didn’t have that many to begin with.”

“It may take some time. But once they’ve finished their jobs, you can catch one of them in the final act and he’ll confess to everything during interrogation.”

“Getting more than one would be smart, wouldn’t it?” he muses to himself, then takes a sip from his glass. “You could probably just get a servant to catch them—avoid all the tears and pleading.”

Joji nods, “You’d be surprised how many attendants are willing to spy for you in exchange for a small bonus.”

Zuko suddenly huffs out a defeated laugh. “They’d only just send more.”

“Would you like my grand uncle’s information? Wait, never mind, I forgot you were—“

Zuko waves a hand. Even he forgot who he was for a moment there— he was bound to more than just the practice of keeping concubines. “I wouldn’t want to waste someone else’s time.”

“It wouldn’t be a waste at all,” he reassures him. “If you ever do change your mind though, I’d be more than happy to introduce you to him.”

“Thank you,” Zuko hums as something else catches his attention. “Could you remind me where the washroom is, again?”

—

The moon casted a faint light over the host’s backyard, revealing stone paths that allowed you to walk through a lush garden filled with delicate flowers and soft shrubs. The path took you past several wooden arches, long overtaken by nature as vines wrap up and cascade over the structures, gently rustling with each breeze.

You had hid behind one when you first heard footsteps, and then waited. You weren’t actually avoiding him, you had already expected he’d follow you out here, and just wanted to creep up on him once he got closer.

It’s not until he fully walks past you when you decide to make your presence known, magically appear a few feet behind him.

“Are you spying on me?”

“No.” You failed to startle him, but did manage to make him feel wrongfully accused. “I was just– I knew you were out here and I thought I’d get some fresh air, too.“

He braces himself. He didn't need to see the glass in your hand to know that you’ve been drinking. You had given it away when you casually stepped out of the shadows to greet him.

“Getting fresh air,” you muse to yourself as you walk up to him. “Like last night?”

The light drains from his eyes. He looks absolutely mortified, and doesn’t even try to deny it. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I figured it’d be fun setting you off on a wild goose chase. I’m sure you have a perfectly normal explanation, though.”

“I wanted to see if you were okay,” he doesn’t sound very certain of it. “I was already planning on touring the place.”

“You know I’m just fine.” It’s not like he’d be much help if trouble were to arise, you were more than capable of defending yourself. “Does keeping me away from Ryuko make you feel better?”

Knowing that you weren’t mad should’ve made him feel better, but being spoken to like a child was so much worse. You look like you’re about to giggle at his response, regardless of what it was.

“Actually no, I have a better question. Are you going to do this every time someone shows interest in me? Even when you already have Sai and all the other concubines?”

That’s not a question he wants to answer. He hasn’t even touched Sai at all during the trip, not that it’d make a difference since that was his job. “If you’re happy, then no.” How he still manages to be stubborn, you have no clue.

Your lips twitch into a smile. “You don’t think I’d be happy with him?”

There’s a spark of annoyance in his eyes, realizing he’s going to have to come clean about something you most likely already know about.

“You told him you liked your life and then he went on to tell you everything that was wrong with it— I think you’d be miserable with him.” He grows irritated by the words he was having to repeat. “And then he insulted your position by saying there was no future in it. You’ve done nothing but work towards bettering it!”

You had a feeling he overheard that conversation and once again, your intuition hasn’t failed you. “Are you sure it’s not because he tried to say that you think you own me?”

“Yeah. He studied me for an entire hour, yet I’ve never looked at you and thought of insulting you the way he did. He spoke over you that entire time and when he couldn’t sway you, he decided to hurt your feelings. And he still thought he deserved to be given a chance.”

He’s pretty much ranting at this point and it’s taking everything in him not to go off track and say something rude.

“He deserves to have his fucking tongue cut out.”

Whoops.

“…I think that might be too harsh of a punishment.” You said it more to lighten, trying to process how pissed off he’s been this entire time.

“Whether you find it harsh or not makes no difference to me. You shouldn’t have been spoken to that way,” he muttered, waving away whatever dignity he had left. “I never want to see anything like that happen again.”

You thought this would be more of a silly exchange where you’d make fun of him for being—well, pathetic. It would’ve been easier had he just felt threatened by Ryuko, but his reason for hating him is reasonable enough and you can’t find it yourself to tell him that he was wrong.

He waits for you to say the usual spiel about how he needs to stop making everything so difficult and to just have an heir already.

There was a bit of defeat in your tone when you spoke. “I wish you knew how tiring it is watching you do whatever you want, when I’ve done nothing but try to do the right thing.”

You sigh and reach forward, fingers gently brushing over the apple of his cheek, and with Zuko being dwindled down to a man who takes whatever he can get, he gravitates towards your touch.

“Maybe it’s time to give up,” he feebly suggests.

“If only the people knew how much of a fool they have for a ruler, too,” you softly say.

And like the fool he is, he places his hand over yours and just holds it there— making it one of the very few times he’s ever allowed someone to touch the scar on his face. “And what if I was just a fool?”

Now he’s just speaking nonsense. You know more than anyone how much he’d hate being a normal person. He liked having power—that was alright, he was one of the rare few who knew how to wield it properly.

“I wouldn’t allow that.” You continue to rub your thumb over his cheek, using a tone that’s far too tender for the answer you come up with. “I’d stage a coup d'état and put you right back where you belong.”

His lips slowly curve in a smile. “You’re making it very hard for me to be angry with our circumstances right now.”

“I know, at least you have me as a loyalist,” you hum, slightly tilting your head as you get a better look at him. “I’m starting to grow a little homesick, honestly— even if it is boring there.”

“You can go home early, if you want,” he offers with a second thought.

“I’ll be fine. It’s only 3 more days.”

“I hope you’re nicer to me by then. I’m a little homesick, too.”

How charming. “That’s if I don’t drink my memories away after tonight— this isn’t exactly a conversation I want to remember,” you sadly admit.

Zuko’s eyes soften, wishing you’d drink more around him often—you’re quite endearing in the state you’re in. “And why is that?”

“Because I’d prefer not to be overcome with embarrassment when I wake up tomorrow morning.”

His mind goes back to the morning after he first kissed you and chuckles. “It’s not that bad.“

You laugh blandly in return. “Not everyone’s as shameless as you.”

But perhaps it was time to even things out between you for once. He did complain about being the only one drunk that night, after all.

So in the moment of silence you shared with him, you leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss against his cheekbone, allowing yourself to be selfish for once.

He’s never been so still in his life. You’ve yelled at him, rejected him, pushed him on to other women so many times that he’s lost count. Yet there was no denying that you felt something so incredibly deep for him. There was no need to spell it out— he saw it, felt it, heard it.

“What happened to never touching you again?” Zuko wasn’t complaining, but he was absolutely going to tease you.

“I’m afraid that only applies to you,” you say, feigning sympathy. “Unless you’d like to order me to stop touching you, as well.”

“I would never do such a thing,” he fights off a smile. “Though I would like to know what my punishment would be if I defied your orders.”

There was a sudden look of disbelief on your face, a little disappointment as well. “That is the sluttiest question I’ve ever heard, you know that?”

“I think the courtesans may have just corrupted your mind with all their crude little jokes.”

“Perhaps. They told me I’d make a fine courtesan the other day.” You run the backs of fingers across his jaw, ignoring the sudden twitch in his eye. “Could you imagine such a simple comment planting a seed in my mind?”

Fortunately, you’ve had enough drinks in you to be able to dismiss the sinister laugh that comes out of him. “No. I don’t want to imagine that, at all, actually.”

“Uh-oh,” you smile and take a sip. “Does the idea make you jealous, My Lord?”

“Jealous? Yes.” He plucks the glass from your hand and takes a sip of your sake. “A little angry, as well.”

“A little?”

His eyes narrow and speaks as if you had just challenged him. “I would buy you out before you got the chance to take customers.”

You throw out another idea. “What if I took a customer while waiting for you to finish the paperwork?”

“I’d turn him into a eunuch.” He watches as your smile slowly fades away.

“That’s a little much for a man that hoards concubines, no?”

He thinks to defend himself against hoarding accusations, but forces himself to let it go. “Does it matter if you’re planning on drinking your memories away tonight?”

You stare at him as you recall the last ten minutes or so. “I probably should.”

“Were you not going to?”

“I was on the fence about it,” you give a contemplative hum. “Eh—better safe than sorry.”

You turn to leave, but Zuko grabs your wrists before you take a step. “You’re not going back to ignoring me tomorrow, are you?”

“Depends on my mood tomorrow,” you smile and snatch your wrist away. “Bye!”

“Fuck—Wait! What kind of an answer is that?”

—

The last days of your visit were fairly normal.

You had ended up taking the rest of the time off. Everyone figured you needed the break anyways and you had zero objections to that.

It was the last day when everything went south.

Of course you just so happened to be there, after deciding to stay at the hotel for some extra rest before traveling back home.

The Madame at Cyra’s brothel would’ve had no issues letting you take a nap there. Had you actually done so, you would’ve been sleeping peacefully right about now— rather than awkwardly sitting in a silent room full of people who are too nervous to speak.

After thirty minutes of being tortured by discomfort, Lord Zuko and the Chamberlain finally walk through the door. The tears started almost immediately.

You guess the guard who had to go fetch them didn’t say what the emergency was. They didn’t look very mad. Chamberlain looked more worried. Zuko just stood there while Concubine Saiyo and one of the guards got on their hands and knees to beg for forgiveness.

“Lord Z-Zuko, I’m— I’m s-so so-sorry!”

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty! Please spare my life. I beg you! Please!”

It takes a moment to click for Zuko and only you notice the glimmer of joy in his eyes when he finally realizes what has happened.

You were hoping he’d send you back to your room, but ended up having to kneel a few feet away from the two adulterers as they had to recall their stories in full. You’re not sure why that was still protocol. Even Zuko looked miserable as he had to listen to them, but the Chancellor was known to be a stickler.

The older man regretted it soon enough. Hearing the events of the sexual encounter quickly became a unique torture he was forced to endure.

Saiyo began to beg again in the end, and you felt a little bad. She was a nice girl.

“Please—please!! I’ll do anything!”

Zuko offers a sympathetic hum, only to remind her of the law. “I have no other choice but to remove you from the court. What kind of a message would that send to the others if I let you stay?” He was full of shit.

“My f-family will kill me!” she continued to cry.

He looks to the guard next to her, who’s staring out into space, tears all dried out. Zuko tries to ask him a question but struggles with the wording at first. Eventually he grows impatient and bluntly asks, “Did you enjoy fucking her?”

The guard grows pale, terrified of what the punishment for that would be.

“I’m not executing you. Not whipping you, either. Or whatever physical punishment they have for these kinds of things,” Zuko lets him know.

The guard sighs in relief, then bows. “I— Yes, I did.”

Chamberlain scoffs and looks at the guard in disgust. How the youth could willingly engage in such devious acts was beyond him.

“Sai, do y—“ Zuko tries to get the concubines' attention, but she's too busy dry heaving to notice. “Saiyo. Sa—my fucking gods—Sai!”

She throws her head back and wails. “I’m s-so sorry, my Lord!!”

“Do you want t—Sai, please,“ cut off once more, he slams his fist on the table next to him, startling everyone in the room. “STOP.”

She takes in a sharp breath, whimpering another apology as Zuko glared at her, daring her to sniffle again.

Zuko finally speaks and points to the guard. “If you don’t want to go home, I can gift you to him. You can be his wife.”

“W-wait— really?”

Zuko notices her bottom lip quiver. “Don’t. Just answer the question.”

“O-okay, yes. Please. I can’t go home.”

“Great.” He takes a sip of water. “You all can leave now— except for you.”

You don’t do a very good job of hiding your dismay, but you stay in place and wait for everyone to leave.

Zuko opens his mouth.

Saiyo pops in and whines, “Lord Zuko, do you hate me?!”

He rests his head in his hand and sighs. “No, I don’t hate you.”

“But—I cheated!“

“That’s okay. We found you a place to live and you are safe,” he says, trying to maintain his patience to the best of his ability. “I need to speak with Ms.—“

“But will you be fine?” she whimpers.

Her question actually manages to make Zuko smile a little, but it’s for reasons he can’t exactly share. “I will be just fine,” he hums.

The concubine needs some extra reassurance, so it wasn’t until a few minutes later when you two finally had the room to yourselves.

“Don’t you think you’re sitting a little too far?” he asks.

You are. Without a word, you bring the floor cushion upfront, ignoring the pleased look on his face because he knows exactly what he’s doing.

There’s a bit of a stare off until you finally break the silence. “You’re not punishing me for this.”

“There’s nothing to punish you for,” he chuckles. “Not that I’d ever have the heart to, anyway.”

“Then why am I here?”

“Just wanted to talk.”

“I’m kneeling in front of you,” you mutter, stating the obvious. “This doesn’t feel very casual.”

“Would you like to sit on my lap instead?”

“No,” you answer rather fast.

“Shame,” he relaxes, leaning on the armrest. “I must say I am having a very good day right now.”

You nearly roll your eyes, it’s not often you make mistakes, this one being punishable by death had it been made during the rule of the two previous Fire Lords. “I’m sure you are.”

“Feels very meaningful, as well.”

“Yeah?” You try to sound interested, but you have a feeling he’s going to eventually say something inappropriate. “How so?”

“You know,” he gestures at the door. “You brought them here because you wanted more space between us— I didn’t want space, I also don’t like my concubines. Then you ended up solving both of my problems and even showered me with some of your affection. I feel as if we’ve come full circle here.”

That wipes the smile off your face, you were counting on him to be kind enough to pretend like it didn’t happen.

You force out a laugh. “What are you talking about?”

He lets out an actual laugh, light and filled to the brim with content. “I’m talking about the banquet we attended a few days ago.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t—“

“Yes, you did,” he says, looking at you with amusement. “All drunk and sweaty, throwing yourself at me and begging me to f—“

“That did not happen!” you slam both hands on the ground and yelp.

“Oh, so you do know?”

“I do, now stop—please,” you beg him.

“Alright, fine,” he laughs. “Anyways, I just wanted to thank you, that's all.”

“Don’t thank me for any of that,” you murmur, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. “Ugh—If I’d known I’d be bringing two freaks together, I would’ve never brought guards. You should probably expect an apology letter from my father. Though I’m sure it’ll mostly be him begging you to allow him to torture the guard.”

Knowing your father, the news will probably have a chill running down his spine and sickened with worry. A mistake like this could very well result in you being taken in as a concubine in place of Saiyo, since you and your father would be the reason why he had one less concubine.

Zuko’s too busy thinking about how your father would be probably go into full, graphic detail on the proposed torture, leaving him mildy disturbed.

“I should probably write him a letter—let it be how he finds out about the incident and let him know neither of you are at fault.”

“If you could, that’d be wonderful,” you nod in content.

The weary look on his face never fades as his eyes trail past you and look off into the distance. Your father being the cause of it was hard to believe. There’s something he’s not telling you.

“I know I’m still on a break, but I’m on a fixed salary,” you say to lighten the mood, despite growing concerned over the sudden mood switch. “If you want my professional opinion.”

He gives an apathetic hum, letting the silence drag on some more as he takes your offer into consideration.

“I ran into my sister the other day.”

Your eyes widened and he confirmed it with a subtle nod, then continued to give you a breakdown of their brief reunion. It sounded like something that would’ve been more heartwarming, but in the end you understood why he didn’t look very moved. “I considered pardoning her, but that only lasted about an hour.”

“Probably for the best. She sounds like she’s found peace, and you got to avoid all the pushback and scrutiny a pardoning would’ve received.” You were sugar coating it, the council would’ve been up in flames. The only reason why you’re staying calm over him committing literal treason is because he seemed to need a friend right now.

“I’ll help her if she needs it, but she’s not coming back to the capital after everything I’ve had to do for this fucking place over the years. I gave my soul away in exchange for everyone’s peace,” he admits in defeat. “Fuck, sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you murmur, not having much advice for him on the matter.

It has gotten a lot better over the years, but the beginning years of his reign have left lasting effects on him, though he’d never admit it.

He says it’s all been rewarding, but those years were thankless. No one took him seriously. He had multiple attempts on his life. He was terrified of being anything like his father, so his own people constantly took advantage of him for being too nice. When the word spread, people protested because they thought he was too weak.

Things finally started to pick up once he began to ally with different clans and create factions, which allowed him to get even more done since people were more willing to help and support him.

He’s loved by the majority now, but you’ve come to realize that the damage had been done. You felt sorry for him. His main goal of helping others has never changed, but he has no interest in getting to know people.

“Don’t give me that look,” he grumbles, rising from his seat.

“I wasn’t looking at you at all.”

He watches as you stand and walk to the other end of the room, putting the floor cushion in its rightful place. His gaze may have drifted lower than it should’ve, but it rose back up once you turned around.

He looks like he’s about to say something stupid, so you shoot him a glare. “What?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs, pointing at the cushion you had just put away, “just reminded me of the empty bed I’ll have tonight.” Everyone was leaving tomorrow morning, except for the new couple, who were to leave right away.

“Don’t complain as if you didn’t try to thank me for it,” you sigh.

“I’m not. I might have another way to thank you, though,” he steps in front of you just before you pass him and leans forward.

“Miss Advisor!”

Concubine Saiyo was still turning the corner when she cried out for you. Zuko quickly spins around and you take several steps away from him. Saiyo comes trotting in shortly afterwards, tears streaming from her cheeks.

“I’m leaving now. I will miss seeing you!” her voice trembles.

“I will miss you, too! I wish you the best of luck.”

Zuko had to stop himself from rolling his eyes, but then found himself fighting back a smile as he watched you two wrap your arms around each other. If this was going to be the standard for farewells, he should just start bringing Concubines to trips, along with a fake eunuch. He’d be a free man soon enough!

“And because I like you, if you ever get sent to the west wing as a concubine, don’t listen to what any of them say because they are looking to set you up for failure,” Sai tightly grabs on to your shoulders, “the easiest way to win over the Lord’s affection is to relax your throat. It’s fine if you gag, if anything he’d rather you would—“

“SAIYO!” The name practically rips through both the Fire Lord’s and Chamberlain's vocal chords.

She glances at them, then hurries to tell you the rest. “The messier the better, honestly. Practice Yoga as well! He—“

“THAT IS ENOUGH.”

‼️ TAG LIST IS CLOSED ‼️

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