Chapter Text
For as long as he can remember, Zuko knew he would have no say in who he would marry. Anyone familiar with basic royal customs would realize it as well. Marriage wasn't a luxury or some grand display of love; marriage was for convenience and a power move if done correctly. Zuko's mother had been chosen to marry and mate with the Prince of the Fire Nation because of her ties to the former Avatar, not because of love or beauty (though her beauty outshone many). And she certainly wasn't happy or in love with her father, nor he with her.
Marriage meant nothing to Zuko. He was raised with the knowledge that he would one day be sent off to live with a stranger for the sake of his nation, and it didn't matter if he ended up happy or not. His happiness didn't matter. He didn't bother playing with the idea that he would be next in line for the throne after his grandfather died and his own father took the throne. Azula was always going to be the one to take the throne; everyone knew it even before the official announcement.
Zuko was weak. Always has been. From his birth on the Winter Solstice under the light of a full moon, to shortly thereafter, when his father nearly killed him for not having the Spark right away, they all knew he was weak. If not for the desperate pleas of his mother, Zuko would have long been dead. He was weak then, and he was weak after that as well - never fully mastering his firebending while his sister produced blue flames by the age of four. He was weak when he turned out to be an omega, while Azula was a strong alpha.
Azula was born lucky; Zuko was lucky to be born.
And he was seemingly cursed with the inability to die, no matter how hard those around him tried. Uncle claimed that Agni herself smiled down upon him; Zuko thought that perhaps his spirit wasn't worthy enough to join his mother in the afterlife.
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Zuko always thought that the red robes and silks would hide the color of blood. He was wrong. It stained his clothing in dark streaks and splatters, soaking through to his pale skin and staining it crimson. Even with blood dripping off her lax fingertips next to him, his eyes stared at the growing stain with a shocked, numb sort of fascination.
The assassin lay dead nearby, Zuko's small dagger - a gift from Uncle - embedded to the hilt through the man's chest. In Zuko's lap, he cradled his mother's head. He combed his bloodied, trembling fingers through her silky hair, gently tugging out the snarls caused by the sticky red oozing from her temple.
She was gone. He had known the moment her eyes had fluttered shut and didn't open again, even with his desperate insistence that she keep them open. Even as his frantic hands pressed firmer into the wound on her abdomen. Although she wasn't a firebender, he could pinpoint the moment the spark of life flickered out. His desperate cries for help died with her, knowing that nothing could be done now. It was far too late.
By the time his father rushed in with his soldiers, Zuko's tears had dried along with the blood coating his small hands. And in that moment, a moment that should be filled with shock and horror, all he saw on his father's face was a look of mild disgust and disinterest. At least the soldiers had the humanity to be genuinely distraught. Though Zuko wasn't the smart child or the prodigy child, he knew in that moment that his father had ordered the assassination. By his hand, Zuko's mother had been murdered, and it was his fault that Zuko had taken the life of someone else at such a young age.
And perhaps his father had realized that Zuko knew. Perhaps that was why, from then on, he secluded Zuko. He kept him locked in his room out of the sight of the world; when he wasn't locked away, it was only when he was under Ozai's gaze or the gaze of the most loyal and trusted that Zuko could leave. The only people he could speak with were his teachers or his father - he had learned the hard way that communicating with anyone else would not be tolerated.
And for years, Zuko knew nothing but that seclusion. He followed every order given to him and, as he grew older, his father permitted more freedoms when he realized that Zuko excelled at something: silence. Then he was given solo missions, ones of stealth, and ones too low profile for the Crown Princess to bother with.
That is, until Zuko came of age.
After his first heat hit, he was kept in his room more often than not. Under orders of his father, Zuko was required to keep his face covered from the bridge of his nose to the point past his chin. He wore it now, golden chains of the mask dangling, as he bowed before the Fire Throne. The fires raged high and bright, an intimidating sight that Zuko silently thanked Agni he didn't have to look into; he hadn't been permitted to rise from his place on the floor.
"Do you know how many people have asked for your sister's hand in marriage?"
This must be some sort of trick question. Some kind of test that he had no way of passing. His father had a sick love of such cornered questions. "I do not, Father. Far more than I can count."
A sharp bark of laughter had Zuko sinking further into the cool, black marble. "An insult! We both know you cannot count very high." Zuko swallowed thickly, biting his tongue. "But yes, a day doesn't pass that I don't have a new letter from a suiter for her. Quite tiresome, really. As if any of them would be worthy of the Crown Princess."
Where was this going? His father was always one to gloat, yes, but he usually had a point to it. But Zuko was never any good at figuring out what the ulterior motive might be. "Of course. It must be exhausting."
"I did not give you permission to speak!"
The booming shout echoed off the stone walls. The flames around the room grew hotter. Beads of sweat, both from the heat and his nerves, dribbled down his neck. He tried to focus on the dwindling chill from the stone below his forehead and palms.
Silence echoed louder than the shout. A quiet before the storm that Zuko knew was coming. He held his breath.
"Do you know how many people have asked for your hand in marriage, Prince Zuko?" His father spat his name from his lips as though he had tasted something revolting. A common occurrence, but it still had the power to make him feel utterly insignificant. "ONE!" Zuko jumped at the furious shout. "One measly proposal against the vast demand for your sister! Do you know how embarrassing that is for me? But I'm not surprised - they can all see that you are a completely useless omega. Perhaps the only thing you would be good for is a mediocre fuck.
"However, you should be thankful. That one proposal can be used to our advantage, as it turns out." It took everything in his body to keep his forehead pressed to the stone ground. Everything in him wanted to look into the fire and demand his father just get to the damn point. "Chief Hakoda from the Southern Water Tribe has an alpha son who, as it turns out, is of age. They have been a growing thorn in my side these past few years, taking over more and more of the sea and cutting off many of our trading routes. It has put me in a difficult position - do I stoop down to their level and make a deal with these savages, or do I continue trying to fight them into submission? Which is where you come in."
Marriage. His father was going to mate him off to a completely different nation. It had never been out of the question, but Zuko had never thought that his father would ever consider the possibility of 'mixing and defiling Royal Blood' with someone outside of the Fire Nation - his words, not Zuko's. This kind of arrangement would change everything about his works and life in ways he can't even imagine.
"The Water Tribes are strong," his father continued, unconcerned about how Zuko might feel about the situation. "It would do well to have access to their oceans. And for the first time, you will be useful to me. I will arrange a marriage for you to this savage dog. You will live in their little snow huts and gain their trust; fuck them if you need to. You will spy on them and report back to me any suspicious behavior and, when the time is right, you will kill them all."
Bile filled his mouth.
"Your marriage will take place in five months. I would have liked it to be sooner, but Chief Hakoda refused for some spiritual or ritualistic excuse." Zuko squeezed his eyes shut. "One of their demands was for you and his son to exchange letters before the ceremony - some cultural necessity of knowing the person you are to marry. Completely unnecessary and a waste of time. Just be thankful that they aren't demanding your sister; truly disgusting that they would accept a marriage like this. An utter humiliation. It may be years until it is time for you to kill them, and when you do, you will finally regain your honor. Whatever little you had."