Chapter Text
Perhaps it is a blessing of sorts, but Zuko does not remember the first time.
She does not remember how it began.
She remembers waking up, though. She remembers her confusion when she woke up in a room that was not her own, naked. She remembers how it did not even occur to her what could have happened. She remembers more the feeling of misunderstanding, of confusion. And then the shame when she realizes she has no clothes on.
Her first thought is: what will Father think?
Her second thought is: how did I get here?
Her third: no one can see me.
She dresses quickly, not even noticing the blood on the sheet. She puts on her robes, hissing in pain between her legs, then clenches her lips. She didn't expect her monthly paints to come now.
She flees the chamber before anyone notices her there.
She is still in the palace, still in the familiar corridors, still at home. And although her mother is gone, having disappeared a few weeks ago, Zuko still calls this home.
She returns to her chamber. The servants glance at her out of the corner of their eyes, as if wanting to comment on her absence during the night, but one sharp look is enough for them to decide not to say anything.
Zuko is grateful to them for that. She herself has no idea what happened or where she spent the night.
She doesn't know what happened, where she was, what happened, but one thing is certain—she needs a bath.
The pain between her legs doesn't go away for a long time.
Life goes on.
Zuko studies. She practices firebending.
Her younger brother, Azula, is better than her, as always.
A few weeks later, the vomiting begins.
Zuko tries to ignore it because it is a sign of weakness and something that should not happen. But the situation repeats itself, over and over again, until the servants convince her to see a doctor.
The doctor examines her and then asks a few strange questions. Zuko frowns, but answers each one.
The doctor is silent for a moment. Something strange appears in his eyes, as if he doesn't know what to ask her next.
And then, after a long, long time, when he finishes his examination, he looks her straight in the eyes.
“Forgive me for my blunt words, but everything indicates that you are pregnant, Princess.”
Zuko freezes.
“That's impossible,” she whispers.
She is eleven years old. She may not be particularly smart, but she had her first period while her mother was still with them. Her mother told her very clearly what could happen, what she had to avoid, and why. Zuko is aware of this. And she is not interested in such situations. She hasn't even had any crush!
And meanwhile, pregnancy? Zuko doesn't think it's possible to get pregnant without doing certain... things. And she didn't do anything.
Except for the night she doesn't remember, when she woke up without clothes in an unfamiliar room.
Zuko trembles.
She hopes that this is all just one big nightmare.
The doctor, bound by his oath, informs her father of everything.
Ozai summons her before him. Zuko stands before him, her eyes downcast.
“Is it true?” her father asks. “That you are pregnant?”
Zuko stares stubbornly at the floor. She is unable to look at her father.
“I don't know,” she whispers. “I have no idea, Father. That's what the doctor said.”
“How did this happen?” Ozai asks. “You are eleven years old. You are a princess of the Fire Nation. Agni, how did this happen?”
“I don't know,” Zuko repeats. “I don't remember.”
“You don't remember,” Ozai repeats. “What exactly do you remember? Look at me when I'm talking to you, girl!”
Zuko flinches and looks up at her father.
Ozai seems furious.
“This should never have happened,” he says. “If I understand correctly, someone took advantage of you, used you. You are the Crown Princess of the Fire Nation. If this gets out... are you aware of how much of a laughingstock you will become? How everyone will look at you? That you will become damaged goods in their eyes?”
Zuko flinches. She knows she's already a big enough disappointment. She’s not Azula. She's not strong. She's weak, her bending isn't good enough, and now this?
“I'm sorry,” she whispers.
“Don't apologize for something you had no control over,” Ozai says harshly. “Are you sure you don't remember who it was?”
Zuko shakes her head.
“I'll give you his head,” Ozai says in a cold tone that sends a chill down her spine. “But I need a name, Zuko.”
“I don't remember,” Zuko repeats.
Ozai sighs heavily.
“All right,” he says. “But I hope you really don't remember, and that you're not trying to protect someone. I will find out who it was. And I will make sure that the guilty parties are punished accordingly. As for you... we won't risk anything happening to you. You will keep the child. Our family needs new heirs, especially after what happened to your cousin. But we can't let you become a laughingstock of the entire royal court. I'll silence those who might know something. And you'll get married.”
Zuko stiffens.
“What?”
“You cannot have a child as an unmarried woman,” Ozai says simply. “Do you know how much shame this would bring upon the entire royal family? I will find someone for you who won't care that you are defective. All you have to do is sleep with them just once so they think the child is theirs. I will find someone who serves in the army and who is loyal to me. You won't have to see them very often, so you won't have to worry about your marital duties. I'll make sure your contact is limited, at least until you're a little... older. But I will not allow my daughter to give birth to a bastard. Is that clear?”
Zuko nods, feeling as if she can barely breathe.
After all, she has no say in the matter.
The wedding is quiet and takes place without unnecessary fanfare.
The man her father chooses is a man named Zhao—older than her, but incredibly loyal and successful in war, not to mention that, as Ozai desired, Zhao is rarely in the vicinity of Caldera.
Throughout the wedding, Azula sits next to Zuko, looking at Zhao—her husband—with a strange expression. Her younger brother seems to want to kill him with his eyes. Zuko grabs his hand.
Since their mother disappeared, only the two of them remained, Zuko and Azula. A useless sister and a genius brother.
And now there is a new element—her husband.
Zhao smiles at her somewhat friendly, as if to ease her fear and anxiety.
Zuko does not smile back, fighting the urge to vomit.
The second time, Zuko is conscious and remembers everything. She is incredibly afraid, but her husband is calm and gentle. When he touches her, he does so in an almost apologetic manner.
“You know we have to do this,” he says quietly when they are alone. He hesitates to take off her clothes. “If we are to be married, we have to do this.”
“I know,” Zuko whispers.
She doesn't move. It's as if she's frozen in place and unable to do anything.
Her father's command, his words, ‘just once’, echo in her voice.
She doesn't move, but she doesn't protest when Zhao takes off her clothes.
Later, much later, when they are lying together on the bed, Zhao turns to her.
“It wasn't your first time,” he says. “Do I want to know who was first?”
“No,” Zuko looks away from him.
Zhao leaves Caldera fairly quickly, as his duties call him. Zuko stays in the palace.
Azula looks at her silently.
Zuko approaches her younger brother and sits down next to him.
They sit like this for a long, long time.
Sometimes, Zuko wonders if it would be easier if she just disappeared. Perhaps then everyone's life would be simpler, better. Perhaps then she would be able to be happy. Perhaps then she wouldn't have to look at her own reflection in the mirror and hate it more and more, more and more.
Perhaps then she would be worth something.
Sometimes, in the evenings, Zuko sits in her room, watching her slowly growing belly.
“You shouldn't exist,” she says to the creature that appeared in her suddenly and that no one here wanted. “Neither you nor me.”
Sometimes she wonders if anyone would cry for her if she were to disappear.
Azula helps.
In his own way, her younger brother's presence is incredibly helpful. Looking at him, Zuko feels like smiling and remembers why she shouldn't disappear yet.
Azula doesn't need her, Azula is strong and powerful, he's not a disappointment, not like Zuko — but in his own way, his existence makes Zuko wake up every morning, open her eyes, and lift her chin proudly.
Azula is still young, but his gaze is old, his tone sharp.
“Don't act like it's the end of the world,” he says to her one day when Zuko doesn't have the strength to do anything. “You are the Fire Princess, the heir to the throne, so act like it. You have your pride. Don't let them take it away from you.”
Zuko blinks her eyes—then smiles at him and ruffles his hair.
“What are you doing?” Azula asks irritably, but there is no real anger in his voice.
“Nothing,” Zuko smiles back at him. “You're the best brother in the world, you know that?”
“Don't exaggerate,” Azula looks away from her and then walks away, as if he doesn't want anyone to see them here. “You're pathetic.”
He comes to her some time later, with an apology on his lips—or rather, with something that is an apology in his mouth, because Azula would never say “I'm sorry.”
Zuko smiles at him, saying there's nothing to apologize for.
Later, much later, she wonders briefly if she is trying to steal their mother's role. Is Azula trying to see Ursa in her, to gain the love that their mother found difficult to give him because she saw Ozai in him?
Zuko decides it doesn't matter; not while her brother is with her.
She names the girl Izumi.
There is no particular reason for giving her that name. Perhaps it is just a whim. Perhaps she simply wants to name the child in such a way that no one will associate her with her father, whom Zuko does not even know.
One glance is enough for Zuko to fall in love with her.
She doesn't know who her father is, but it doesn't matter.
She is her daughter, and Zuko will do anything to protect her.
She doesn't feel like a child anymore.
Sometimes people glance at her and make snide comments about her situation. The people around her fall into one of three categories. There are those who pity her and think she is too young for marriage. There are those who admire her devotion to the Fire Nation and the royal family—because everyone knows that the royal family has just emerged from a succession crisis. There are also those who look at her with contempt and believe that she jumped into Zhao's bed and seduced him to gain his loyalty.
Zuko remains silent. She is learning to ignore these looks, learning to keep her mouth shut. She knows that people will gossip for a long, long time.
For now, it is enough for her to look at Izumi, at her face and her eyes.
Sometimes, Azula sits next to her and stares at the girl too. Sometimes, there is something strange on her brother's face. Sometimes, Zuko feels like he wants to say something to her.
In the end, Azula does not say it out loud.
Being with Zhao is... okay, she would say.
There is an age gap between them, but despite that, he is always kind to her. He seems to be delighted with Izumi's existence and does not use violence against her. Sometimes, when he comes to the capital, he takes Zuko for walks. He brings her new scrolls with plays and takes her to the theater. He is kind and gentle, even in the evenings when they spend more time together than Zuko would like.
The maid gives her a recipe for tea, quietly whispering what it is really for.
Zuko drinks it.
Everything is fine until it isn't.
One day, Zhao looks at Izumi and loudly calls her his daughter. Zuko watches this and can't take it anymore, because she isn't his daughter, because Zuko doesn't know Izumi's father, and yet Zhao has been kind to her and clearly cares about Izumi.
It's cruel, what she's doing to him.
“You know she's not your daughter,” the words come out of her mouth before she can think.
“She is my daughter, wife,” Zhao replies.
Zuko presses her lips together.
“No,” she says. “She is not your daughter. I don't know her father. You became my husband only because my father, Fire Lord Ozai, wanted to hide the pregnancy. I'm sorry.”
Zhao doesn't speak for a long time.
Then he approaches her and kisses her, long and gently. He steps back a little, places his hand on her cheek, and whispers in an incredibly tender voice:
“My beloved wife, do you really think I would marry defective goods? Izumi is mine. She has always been mine. After all, I was your first.”
Zuko looks at him without understanding.
“I don't know who the father is,” she repeats. “I have no idea because–”
“Wife,” Zhao interrupts her. “Are you not listening to me? There was never anyone else. It was always just me. Always. From the very beginning. When I took you for the first time, long before our wedding, you were a virgin.”
Zuko needs a moment to process what he has said.
“It was you,” she realizes. “It was you. From the very beginning... you took everything from me.”
Anger builds inside her—justified anger, because it was all his fault. He toyed with her, pretended to be a good husband, pretended to care about her, and meanwhile he... meanwhile he...
She will kill him.
Zuko summons flames, feeling her anger turn to fury. She will kill him, murder him, because everything that happened was his fault. He gave her Izumi, but he destroyed her life.
Zhao grabs her wrist.
Zuko screams. She attacks. She yells.
Ultimately, he is stronger than her. He takes her to their bedroom, ignoring her screams, ignoring her attempts to look at him, ignoring how many times Zuko tells him no.
“You'd better behave yourself,” he hisses. “You don't want anything bad to happen to our daughter, do you?”
“I hate you,” Zuko looks him straight in the eye. “And I'll kill you. And if I don't, my father will.”
Zhao just laughs.
“No,” he says. “That won't happen.”
Before going to her father, she makes sure that her arm—the one Zhao burned the night before—is bandaged and the wound is hidden. Firebenders don't burn easily, so she wouldn't be able to explain what happened. Zuko knows that her father wouldn't take it well if he found out that she let someone burn her.
She makes sure there are no visible wounds on her body. That all possible wounds or bruises are hidden. She deliberately puts on long-sleeved robes.
She orders the servants to watch over Izumi, then goes to her father.
She tells him the truth. What Zhao told her. That it was all his fault.
“It was him,” Zuko can't look at her father. “He is Izumi's father. But I swear, I didn't know. I don't remember anything from that night. I don't remember. I swear.”
Ozai raises his hand.
“Enough,” he says. “Zuko. Look at me.”
She looks up at him.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
Zuko nods.
“He told me,” Zuko looks up at her father. “It was him, Father. He hurt me.”
Ozai is silent for a long time, looking at her with an expression that Zuko cannot quite understand.
Finally, Ozai sighs heavily.
“All right,” he says. “It would not be fitting for the Crown Princess to be widowed after barely a year of marriage. You will not tell anyone what Zhao said to you. If it is true, then he has ultimately taken responsibility for his actions and provided for you and the child.”
“But...”
“Silence, Zuko,” Ozai says sharply. Zuko flinches. “Don't interrupt me. Even if Zhao took responsibility for his actions, it doesn't change the fact that he raised his hand against a member of the royal family before he became part of it. I will send him overseas. He will still be your husband, but I will keep him under control. I will not allow him to approach you without supervision. But you must behave. I don't want a scandal, do you understand?”
Zuko nods, then lowers her head, hiding a smile.
She was right.
Father will protect her.
Days turn into weeks, weeks into months.
Father keeps his promise.
Zhao appears several times in Caldera. Sometimes it is necessary for them to be nearby—mainly for political reasons, to show that the royal family is united.
But even when they meet, there are always guards around them. Zhao keeps his distance.
Azula always watches him. The boy's eyes are always directed at him, always seeming to catch every little gesture, never missing what is happening, seeing every little touch, every hand he puts on her shoulder.
Azula watches, but says nothing. Only sometimes does he glance at their father.
Zuko doesn't say anything. She doesn't want to risk saying more than she should. So she smiles when she has to, pretending to be proud of who her husband is.
Her uncle sometimes looks at her with sad eyes, but when he makes sure that Zhao is not approaching her, he breathes a sigh of relief. He offers her tea and kind words. And he always makes sure that Zuko and Zhao are not left alone in the same room.
Zuko sometimes wants to hate him. She wants to hate him for pretending to care about her now, but not being there when she needed him most. After Lu Ten's death, he simply disappeared from the Fire Nation, and no one knew what had happened to him for a long time.
And now Uncle looks at her sadly, making martyr faces, as if he blames himself for what happened. As if he suffers when he looks at her.
Zuko looks away, reminding herself that she shouldn't be angry with him. Uncle is doing his best. Besides, Uncle, Father, and Azula are protecting her and Izumi, so everything will be fine.
Sometimes, Zuko dreams of Father or Uncle killing Zhao. Of this man disappearing and never appearing before her again.
That doesn't happen.
Izumi is growing up.
She is getting bigger and bigger, and her eyes are golden. Although Zuko hates her father, she cannot hate her. Izumi becomes incredibly precious to her. She doesn't know what would happen if she lost her.
Azula is with her when Izumi says her first words.
Shock appears in Azula's eyes, followed by disbelief.
“Did you hear that, Zuko?” he asks. “Did you hear?”
“I heard!” Zuko smiles broadly, feeling that Azula is more excited about her daughter's success than Zuko herself.
Azula smiles broadly at her.
“She said ‘mama,’” Azula says, then leans over Izumi. “Hey, Izumi, say Azula. Or Uncle Azula.”
Izumi, of course, is unable to say it.
Despite this, Azula does not give up. Over the next dozen or so days, Zuko often sees him approaching Izumi and repeating his name to her, over and over again.
When Izumi says “lala,” Azula bursts out laughing.
“She said my name!” Azula says. “Did you hear that, Zuko?”
“I did,” Zuko smiles at him. She loves to see the excitement in her brother's eyes.
She already knows that Azula will be the best uncle under the sun.
Everything is fine. Her father protects her—until Zuko is the one who makes the mistake of speaking when she shouldn't.
She is thirteen when she is sent outside the palace walls, into a world she doesn't know. She is thirteen when she almost begs to be allowed to take her daughter with her.
She is thirteen when she looks in the mirror and sees the horrible scar that marks half of her face.
She smiles grimly.
Well, she thinks, at least now Zhao will never consider me beautiful again.