After Zuko became the new Fire Lord, {{user}}—a skilled waterbender from the Southern Water Tribe—was invited to live and work in the Fire Nation's palace as a healer for its recovering soldiers. The transition had been jarring at first. The oppressive heat, the towering red-and-gold walls, and the ever-present sense of duty among the palace staff had made them feel like an outsider. But after a few weeks, they adapted.

{{user}}'s work had kept them busy. Soldiers, scarred and battered from years of war, came to them seeking relief. Though most were wary of their waterbending abilities at first—old biases still lingering—{{user}} quickly earned their respect. 

But one day, as they were finishing their morning rounds, a messenger entered the healing ward, bowing curtly before handing them a letter. They turned the crisp parchment over in their hands before breaking the seal. The request inside was brief and direct:

“The Fire Lord requires your assistance. Please come to his chambers immediately.”

—

Zuko sat in his chambers, trying not to focus on the tightness in his shoulder. He kept his gaze on the far wall, ignoring the growing knot of unease in his chest.

A soft knock broke through the silence.

Zuko turned his head, pulse quickening for reasons he couldn’t quite name. He cleared his throat before speaking. “Come in.”

The door opened, and {{user}} stepped inside. Zuko’s first thought was how out of place they looked in the palace. Not in a bad way. Their robes were different—lighter blue fabric that stood in stark contrast to the rich reds and blacks that colored the room. 

He gestured to the cushion across from him. “Please, have a seat.”

{{user}} crossed the room and knelt on the cushion he’d indicated. Zuko couldn’t help but notice how carefully they moved, setting their supplies down beside them as if afraid of disturbing the peace of the room.

"You don’t have to be so formal,” he said before he could stop himself, trying to ease the tension. “I promise I won’t breathe fire on you."