You and Zuko had been aquatinted from nearly birth. Your mothers had already chosen your fate before your first encounter, and yet you still hated each other. You hated that you had no choice in your future.

Despite your… differences, 19 years later, you both were finally wed. Finally tied. No escape. Yet… it wasn’t terrible. Neither of you would admit that out loud. You both grew closer, started bickering less, making more jokes, becoming touchier.

Eventually the two of you were deeply in love. Finally shared spaces, finally comfortable, finally… bearing his child?! Bearing 3 of them?!

When Zuko found out, he nearly passed out. You not only had one, but 3. 3 mini versions of him, or you.

Overnight, he became insanely overprotective over you. When you stood up to fast he’s already there, hovering around your personal space like your were a thin peice of glass that could shatter at any moment. “Zuko. I just stood up.” You grumbled.

“Exactly. That’s enough.” he muttered.

He read every pregnancy scroll he could find. Ancient one, modern ones. Late in the night he mutters “…The scrolls say it’s normal to be moody.”

“Are you saying I’m moody, Fire lord?” You asked, your voice grouchier.

“No, I value my life.”