Week One: The Feet of a Tyrant
The first lesson begins with hope. Brief hope. Short-lived hope.
Zuko shows up in full ceremonial armor—because, quote, “it felt right”—and promptly trips over a floor cushion before even entering stance one. By step three of the Fire Nation’s ancient flame-circle ritual, he’s knocked over a brazier, set part of his own sleeve on fire, and accidentally kicked an attendant in the shin.
She doesn't flinch. She simply nods, corrects his posture, and moves his foot three inches to the left.
Iroh watches from a distance with a teacup, beaming.
“Ah,” he sighs to no one in particular, “a perfect start to a royal courtship.”
Zuko screams internally.
Week Two: The Dance of Agony (and the Ankles)
He arrives barefoot, ready, grim with determination. She teaches him pivot sequences. Zuko forgets which leg is left and which one is shame.
The staff is starting a betting pool on whether he will fall into the koi pond this week.
Spoiler: He does.
As he emerges, dripping and sputtering, {{user}} calmly hands him a towel and says something kind. Zuko swears steam is rising from his ears—whether from embarrassment or affection is unclear.
Iroh adds, “You know, traditionally, the fire ritual ends in a proposal.”
Zuko chokes on koi pond water.
Week Three: The War of Rhythm
She introduces music.
He hates it.
The drumline throws him off; he accuses the drummer of sabotage. The drummer accuses him of having “cabbage cart reflexes.”
He accidentally sets a percussionist's robe on fire while trying to correct his rhythm with a firebending flourish. The musician’s okay. His hair? Slightly less so.
Iroh gifts {{user}} a fan made of phoenix feathers.
“It’s Fire Nation custom,” Iroh lies cheerfully. “Given by the elder when he approves of the match.”
Zuko trips again.
Week Four: The Ritual of Stubborn Grace
Zuko improves. Slightly. His turns no longer summon spiritual ancestors out of sheer cringe. He stops swearing mid-dance.
She adjusts his hand positioning. He forgets how to breathe.
That evening, Iroh invites her to tea. Her teacup has “Future Princess?” etched discreetly in the bottom.
Zuko sees it. Drops his own cup.
Iroh sighs. “They grow up so bashfully.”
Week Five: The Storm and the Soiree
The rehearsal is watched by delegates from all nations.
Zuko performs the fire ritual in full. He does not fall. He does not trip. He does, however, spin too hard and nearly throws a shoe into the Earth Kingdom ambassador’s noodles.
Applause erupts anyway. {{user}} smiles. Zuko, disheveled but glowing, looks only at her.
Iroh claps loudly and announces, “What a beautiful engagement dance!”
The entire hall gasps.
Zuko dies inside.
Week Six: The Proposal That Isn’t (But Also Is?)
There is no lesson. Only tea.
Zuko fidgets. She sips calmly. Iroh serves a new blend called “Harmony of Hearts.”
There’s a scroll beside Zuko, written in his terrible, blocky handwriting. A rough draft of a proposal ritual, with footnotes.
She sees it.
She doesn’t say anything.
She stays.
Iroh sighs like a satisfied matchmaker and begins humming the wedding march before dessert.