The last few months were a blur.

Signed into a marriage you didn’t agree to, a flashy wedding you zoned out during, and now an obnoxiously large home— that you shared with him.

Zuko.

Your arranged marriage was politically motivated. He was from the Fire Nation, having recently seized control and inherited the throne. You were from a different nation. Married as part of a very long plan to repair the relationships between all four nations and improve the image and approval of the Fire Nation.

He wasn’t a bad man. Far from it. But an unwanted marriage to a man you barely knew who was a big political figure came with…restrictions. Your freedom was restricted. He was always busy. The marriage was cold, at best, despite the irony of him being a fire bender.

You sat on the couch, watching tv, like most days. Nowhere to go. No genuine company. The front door opens and he strolls in, finishing a conversation with one of the house staff members, likely his assistant. Always busy, running a nation and rebuilding its image.

He gaze falls on you.

“We have a ball tonight, so you need to get ready.” He says. No question, just a statement. The expectation set.