Chapter One: History

Red embroidery pinned with 48-karat gold sleeves fled down the legs of Zuko in two, long, wide strips.

Newly crowned Fire Lord Zuko was getting married. In fact, he had already gotten married—he mulled over the hidden question for a second before deciding to let it flit away. Who know when it was officially done anyhow?

The long, flowing red robes draped over him led way to two golden doors, embellished with grand blue to signify the housing of the royal bride—Katara of the Water Tribe.

Slightly weary, but feeling something like a small mandarin down in the bottom of his throat, Zuko opened the door after having made his official speech as Fire Lord in front of an audience of onwatchers.

After he and Katara had gone of the nuptials—the godforsaken ceremonial monument of thing called a hair piece staged over her head—which had also thoroughly taken a good 7 hours (yes, seven hours, to go through all the proceedings), the crowds had respectfully cheered for them and a blushing Katara had been led away by her assigned maidens, as Zuko had been left in the wide ceremonial stage to turn and make his speech towards the audience.

Yes, Katara had gone away as he had gone off to do his duties as Fire Lord.

Zuko heaved a weary sigh. Seven hours. The morning ceremony had taken seven hours, and had started at seven in the morning.

It was already two.

Having just finished addressing his audience, Zuko had turned around, assumed to be obliged to look for his newly wedded wife now.

Of course, there were more ceremonial habits awaiting for them, but those were at the back of his mind.

At the moment, all he wanted to do was find Katara—if anything, just for a moment of peace, away from all this ceremonial bullshittery nonsense.

Those seven hours had been long and excruciating, outfitted in regality resembling the royal olden ages, among fire sages spinning around them. Just learning the proper methods of going about the ceremony had been hard enough, and even then, they had both cheated—Iroh had made sure there would be guides secretly signaling each of them and showing them what to do, hidden behind the curtains.

The old man had chuckled and explained that that was an age long tradition and that he and his wife had had a guide for their ceremonial depart at their wedding as well, when Zuko had looked up to his Uncle hopeless and distraught after coming back from his first meeting with the wedding coordinators.

At that meeting, he had also learned a few more things that he would have to keep in mind for later that day.

It had fled his mind; completely caught up with the overwhelming amount of nuptials as had been stressing over, until just now.

Where Zuko had been flusturedly and hurriedly looking for his wife—just for some company—he opened the door and was struck with the beautiful, but at the same time horrifying visage of a gorgeous and glowing Katara.

Make-up applied to perfection, eyebrows shaped and arched perfectly, her face glowed with a rosy pink that was perfect the complement her features, and her tan skin was brought out to it's exotic and sultaneous glory with the thin line of deep black kohl rimming them.

Zuko was thunderstruck by the visage of Katara, who was sitting with her legs bent below on lines her, on the steps of some sort of special, important, ceremonial looking alter.

He had found the door she had been hiding in after being directed by some ministraries. But only had he entered it, did he realize with a gulp that he should indeed be horrified and nervous.

Katara seemed to have taken off the outer layer of robes to reveal another set of gallant looking wedding attire of a slightly more relaxed disposition, and her headpiece was off. The veil was removed, so Zuko could finally see her face now and reel back properly at the amazing job her team of maidens had done to her.

"Zuko!" Katara exclaimed with relief once the door opened. "Oh my spirits, I finally got that awful thing off!" she expressed, "and they even took off the silly outer-robe. I've still got two more under neath this but—"

As Katara went on and on in enthusiasm and relief about how she actually felt normal now, Zuko took another deep breath. He half-heartedly listened to her, but then took another tumultuous glance up at the large alter above them, the steps of which Katara was currently sitting on, exclaiming and rubbing her now bare feet in relief.

It took her a moment to realize that he still had not moved from where he stood and then she quickly came over to him with questioning written all over her face.

"Zuko? Are you alright? Do you need any help getting all that gunk off," she asked, grimacing her face as she pointed towards his own ceremonial outerrobes.

He had just come from addressing their morning (or noon) audience after their weddings, so he was still outfitted in the long, flowing red robes.

Zuko choked a bit, glancing at the dreaded altar out of the corner of his eye before taking another deep sigh and looking up.

"Katara... haven't you noticed..." he thought it might be better to start it off gently. "That it's weird that we're left alone after all that?" He took another deep breath. Waiting for it.

She might be his wife now, but that didn't change the tremor of how much reverence he had for her.

He was scared of her.

In fact, this well known reverence was the main—no, the exact—reason the Fire Sages and explicitly approved, chosen and qualified her for the wedding. Her, Katara of the Southern Water Tribe.

Katara, with both her hands on one side of his broad shoulders—made even broader with the extravagant red, shimmering ceremonial outer robes of the wedding—paused suddenly in her attempts to help him remove it from his chest.

Zuko took another deep breath, closing his eyes, gearing himself for that moment.

Katara frowned suddenly and seriously, stilling and notably tensing to take attendance of her background and surrounding.

"Another assassination attempt?" she whispered suddenly, her eyes narrowed with suspicion as her pupils slid off to the side. Her body hadn't moved from the position it was in when Zuko had first halted her with his sudden speech.

Mentally, the man in question groaned.

No, she did not get it.

With a gruff choke in the back of his throat, Zuko took both of her hands in his and hurriedly looked around the wide, vast room, which was only a bit tinier than the history-old throne room in the centre building.

He spotted a large, spansive bed in the corner and brought her over to it.

Sitting down cross legged on it, he gestured for her to do the same and then took her hands in his hand once in, gently running over her fingers with his own as he began to speak.

He didn't know how else to do it—tell her a story? Remind her of the age old tale and truths that had only just restruck his memory four months ago when his personal advisors for the wedding had made it known to him?

Indeed, he was not surprised that this small facet or tale had been personally overlooked by him despite the fact that he himself had grown up within the walls of the main palace.

After all, it had been years since the true meaning behind it had come to any fruition.

It all made sense—their history of Fire Lords. The Fire Sages' decision to choose and pick Katara (Zuko had just thought he had gotten lucky), as a Fire Lady.

He and Katara had already been in a relationship when they had been propositioned by the Fire Sages for a wedding. They had explicitly said that they approved of Katara and graced her with their good blesses.

Zuko had thought it was a dream come true. He had been severely putting off confronting the idea of having to approach the Sages for approval and wisdom when it came to picking a water tribe wife—mostly because he had been dreading trying to convince them that a water tribe bride would be perfect for him.

But they had thrown him the proposition and the wedding preparations had begun five months ago.

That was also when he found out why.

Choking a little bit before in his throat before beginning, Zuko continued playing with her hands trapped within his own, looking down to stare at them to avoid her face before beginning his story.

"In the Fire Nation... the Fire Lady is the mother to everyone," he began slowly and subtly, and using the direct phrasing the sages had told him with.

Katara nodded, slowly and attentively, her ears still out and open for any note of an assassin stranger—which she still perceived to be the purpose of their seclusion in this room.

Realizing the devastating shock that he had had when he had become privy to the piece of information he was about to disclose to Katara, he mentally smacked his head and decided that maybe he shouldn't use the phrasing the sages had used. He didn't want to give her the same shock that he had received.

"So, um," Zuko awkwardly choked out once again, still refusing to look her in the face.

"Wait," Katara suddenly stopped. Zuko breathed a hidden breath of relief at the sudden break from the torturous moment, but then looked up to see her eyes still narrowed and sneaking suspicious glances around the room as she slowly rose up onto her knees on the mattress.

"Let me help you take off your over-coat first, husband," Katara tensely and artificially stated, her hands moving forward towards his chest, though her gaze was searching the premises.

Following her line of sight and looking around bewilderedly around the room for whatever she was looking for, the realization suddenly struck Zuko and he snapped his face back up to hers.

"No, Katara—theres no assassination attempt planned—I'm explaining to you right now why we're here."

Suddenly relaxing and then returning her hands back to herself, Katara sat back on the bed on her haunches and now looked at him visibly confused.

"Oh. Well—Okay. But let me still help you take that thing off."

Zuko grunted an affirmative and allowed Katara to move up off the bed to around his back to lift the heavy garments up. Below, he was still wearing two or three layers, but he felt a lot more relaxed now.

Once Katara was done, she placed herself in front of him on the bed once again, facing each other with their legs crossed and laps between them once again.

Watching Zuko take her fingers back into his lap to fiddle with them again and visibly delay, Katara blew a deep, annoyed sigh.

Sure, she had gotten that irritating headdress off, and the veil was off too, but she was still wearing three or four layers of heavy and uncomfortable underclothes and robes.

She was getting hot and sweaty and Zuko was sitting here, stalling and fiddling and delaying with whatever he meant to tell her right now.

Her brow began to twitch in annoyance.

She lifted one hand away from his fiddling fingers and brought it up to the neck of her robes to pull the inside out a bit looser. This dress was getting annoying.

And for some reason, her chest was feeling a lot tighter than it was before—particular around the bust area. Which was weird, considering that she could recall that her dressing maidens had purposefully fitted them looser around her chest this morning.

And now, suddenly, it was feeling too tight for her to breath in. Her chest—breasts—felt really heavy. Like there were stones hanging down from there.

And Zuko was sitting here, being all indecisive and irritating.

As the hand suddenly left from his lap, Zuko looked up in surprise to see her pull at her inner robes to try and get some cool air into her chest.

Katara groaned suddenly in frustration, before speaking out her irritation to him.

"Ugh. I don't know why, but—my chest feels really heavy and tight. What were you going to tell me?"

Zuko's blank gaze fell from the finger at her neck down to her breasts, before he blushed crimson red and snatched his hand from between them back to lap.

He took a deep inhale through his nose.

He could do this. He was Fire Lord. Of course he could do this. He'd been through enough in his life—this should be nothing in comparison.

Then why was it so embarrassing? An inner voice screamed at himself.

Zuko cleared his throat.

"The Fire Nation... We do not follow a misogynistic culture," Zuko decided to suddenly start off diplomatically. Satisfied that Zuko had begun his speaking once again, Katara hummed in approval and understanding and gestured for him to continue, still uncomfortably tugging at her upper robes.

"The Fire Lady, as it goes by the books, is actually more powerful than the Fire Lord. She is the mother of the nation, and as an extension, the mother of the Fire Lord himself as well."

Katara hummed once again in understanding. "Yes, well, that makes sense of course. The Fire Lady always gives birth to the future Fire Lord."

Zuko quirked his mouth in disapproval at the finite phrasing of her words—they were true, yes, technically. If all went as expected it would be true.

But Princess Ursa had not been a Fire Lady when she had given birth to Zuko. In fact, she was never meant to be a Fire Lady at all, having married the second son of the currently reigning Lord.

But he pushed those facts to the back of his head—they interrelated with his discussion anyway.

"Yes. So, in effect, she has more power than him," Zuko continued, before deciding to explain another aspect on a tangent. "The ascension of Fire Lords is completely separate from that of Fire Ladies. They should, in effect, be interrelated—through marriage and by birth—but the ascension is completely separate."

"What I mean to say," Zuko clarified, clearing his throat, "That if my mother were alive today, she would be the current Fire Lady in ruling. She would, in effect, have more power over me," Zuko frowned, tracing his index finger over hers, before continuing, "All of my decisions would be watched by her. And if, by some reason, she disapproved of any of my actions, she would have the correct jurisdiction to condemn and obliterate any axioms made of my volition, veto my laws, and change any word of mouth that begets heralding from me." Zuko paused, letting that sink in for a second. "Most of the time, the lock of fire sages, federation of nobles, coalition of provincial lords, and council of five can veto any laws made by me after a 2/3s vote of agreement on any of their parts. But the Fire Lady does not need a council to veto my laws—only her own will. She is also the only such person in the entire nation who can do the last of those powers—change my word of mouth."

Brows furrowed, Katara frowned and listened carefully. She had skimmed over all of this in the texts given to her—she and Zuko had insisted that she did not a tutor, but could study from the textbooks herself. But once it came from Zuko's mouth, it all seemed a lot more.. powerful, somehow. A lot more real, coming from the Fire Lord himself.

"Once the current Fire Lady passes away, the ascension goes down to the wife of the current Fire Lord, or if she is deceased, to the sister or daughter or the last Fire Lord. Though it may seem as if the Fire Lady's seat follows that of the Fire Lord, it actually does not. The Fire Lady is known to be the mother of her people." Zuko took a deep breath before saying the next tumultuous sentence.

"Our nation has not had a Fire Lady in 108 years, Katara."

Somehow, the statement made Katara suck in her breath and nearly gasp. Zuko was still playing with her fingers in his lap. He waited for a response.

"But, your—"

"My mother was never a Fire Lady," he responded before she could finish. He paused a moment more before continuing. "Ozai did away with her before she could be."

A silent moment passed between them as Zuko allowed the information to sink in.

"Power," he stated. "It was always about power. When Lord Sozin's wife passed away at the age of 68, was when he began planning. The three months after her passing witnessed the duel between the Avatar Roku and Sozin between the start of the war. Five years later, the war had officially begun."

"So..." Katara slowly started, "You guys have not had a Fire Lady in the last 108 years because... because the Fire Lords felt it threatened their aims and desires?"

"Yes. The Fire Lady has more power than the Fire Lord does. Haven't you noticed the deities and spirits worshiped in the Fire Nation? The Painted Spirit, Jhall, they're mostly all women. The Fire Lady is the only person who can truly control the throne."

Zuko took a deep breath, stretching his fingers out in his lap. He hadn't looked up to her at all throughout the course of this conversation.

He glanced up for a moment and saw that her upperbody looked incredibly uncomfortable. She was sweating with discomfort.

"Well. That was enlightening—but thats the only reason we're here in this room? Spirits, Zuko, you could've told me this over dinner or something."

Zuko shook his head quietly, looking down into his lap, eyes closed.

"Wait—don't tell me this is supposed to be our wedding night pallet? The sun is still out! It's only three!"

Zuko shook his head again, his eyes almost feeling pained.

"This.. this isn't actually a wedding ritual. Well it is, sort of—" Zuko amended quickly, straightening up and suddenly frowning. There were too many strange exception to their situation. "This is actually.. a Fire Lady ritual."

Katara perked up at hearing this and took her fingers away from her neckline—where she was uncomfortable tugging to get more air.

It just sense that Zuko hadn't known about this ritual while growing up—it hadn't been performed in ages. The last Fire Lady on the throne had been 108 years ago.

Zuko cleared his throat and coughed into his fist once again, removing her hands from his palms and looking away.

"So... the Fire Lady is the mother of the nation. She's also mother to the Fire Lord."

Katara sat there, blinking at her husband, who was currently looking away, awkwardly. She waited for him to continue, but apparently there was no more to be said.

Her clothing was itching against her chest and her shoulders felt like they had extra weight on them. So she was not in the mood for patience. She had just spent seven hours kneeling and kowtowing and dancing around, taking instruction from a white-linen clad guy hiding behind a curtain, who was telling her what to do so that she wouldn't mess up.

Katara cleared her throat loudly and expressionfully, indicating the need for him to continue and elaborate. The hairs on the nape of Zuko's neck sprang up. His face reddened.

"Shes.. shes the mother of the nation. The Fire Lord is the leader of the nation. So... whenever a new Fire Lady is initiated they have this... This ritual..."

"Yes?"

"Uhm. So—we—"

"We...?"

"Well, we—uh—we have to.. Uhh.."

"Zuko!" Katara finally snapped in irritation.

"Katara. So. Uh." He glanced down to her breasts uncomfortably. Surely, he shouldn't be feeling so uncomfortable with his future wife, right? His current wife.

They had had their fair share of making out. He had even felt her up before.

But.. But right now.. They just.. They looked so huge.

"I—I'm supposed to," He raised his hands and gestured towards her. "Your—your chest."

Katara frowned and then brought her arms to them. "Yeah, they've been feeling weird for a while now."

"They gave you.. something weird to eat before the wedding this morning and at dinner last night, didn't they?" Zuko subtly alluded, looking away from her.

Katara frowned again, thinking back, and then realized that she did have a separate plate that was distinctly different from the others and that which no one else at the table had.

And today, as her dressing maidens had been outfitting her and slipping bits and pieces of breakfast fruit tarts into her mouth as she'd been spinning around for them and their pinning, she had had some type of strange pill sitting ontop of one of her fruitcakes.

"Wait.. Yes!" she suddenly exclaimed in realization. Zuko nodded in acknowledgment, his adam's apple bobbing.

"In historical accords... The Fire Lord is meant to—I mean, consume the breast milk of the initiated Fire Lady."

Katara blinked. Slowly, her blank gaze dropped down from his flushed face down to her breasts—which were considerably larger than she'd ever seen them.

And then, another thought suddenly struck her.

Zuko was still faced off to the side, awkwardly pretending to cough into his hand. Hoping Katara wouldn't beat him or anything. They had, in effect, drugged her without her knowing..

But instead, he was faced with a more disturbing question. A direct product of her curious and inquisitive mind. Damnable thing.

"So.. If your mother.."

Zuko choked for real, saliva caught in his wind pipe, and began coughing uncontrollably.

Alarmed at the sudden onslaught, Katara leaned over closer to him and began to pat his back. Hunched over as he was, her enlarged breasts caught his view frontly and his cheeks burned a bright red.

"Yes. Well... the ritual generally converges with.. the ejaculation of the Fire Lord. The idea is that the breast milk consumed passes through and releases through him. It signifies a union."

Katara thought that there were many anatomical misanalogies involved here.. but it was a centuries old ritual. They couldn't expect everything to be right.

These things were followed for symbolism at the present day. Not for technological sincerity.

So... that explained her breasts. But there was another question in her head.

And Zuko, hunched over with his elbows slung tiredly over his knees on the bed with a red face, glanced over at Katara's curious and questioning face knowing exactly what it was that she wanted to know. He heaved another sigh.

"Yes. There have been histories of incest in Fire Nation Royal families. Between the Fire Lord and the Fire Lady—but within the context of the situation," Zuko felt compelled to clarify the point at the end, lest to beg another so thats why your family is so fucked up comments that the Gaang seemed to loved to gesticulate about.

As far as he knew, the incest in their family's history had never produced any actual children, though it did expand further than just the context of ritual.

"And its.. Its not always sex. Sometimes they just drank it in a ceremonial cup. Its the idea of returning whats already been through the body of the Fire Lord. The milk came from the Fire Lady first though. And that symbolizes her higher status—the root of the nation. The mother of the Fire Lord. During the 100 years war, the Fire Lords all disposed of their wives so that they wouldn't stand in the way of ultimate power."

Zuko frowned as another thought suddenly came to him.

"I guess... I guess thats why my mother... She kept me close. She didn't want to be usurped if I were ever to gain hold of the throne," he felt his eyes fill with red rage. "But Ozai got to it first."

It all made sense now. The Fire Nation had not had a Fire Lady in 108 years—histories of Fire Ladies—mothers and wives—falling mysteriously ill.

At the hands of their sons, their husbands, their fathers.

In his distant memory, he recalled hearing that Iroh and Ozai had once had a baby sister—one that Azulon had never grieved, for she had died at her infancy.

Katara watched his realization come to fruition and the bile creep up his throat as the explicit realities of the situation plunged into his brain.

She leaned over and moved over on the bed to sit beside him rather than face him, placing a comforting hand over his hunched back. He was going through an intense moment of regret, anger and confusion.

"Zuko," she whispered into his ears, struggling to get rid of the bad thoughts in his head. "This is a new era, now. You've been through it all, but now we're restarting. Everything is beginning anew. I'm the new Fire Lady."

Eyes red with grief, Katara's gentle warmth and reassuring words seeping into him, he caught her back against him and hugged her waist to his chest.

He took a deep breath, making sure he was calm before letting her go.

This—this was why they had picked her. The Fire Sages knew that Fire Lady Katara could never be usurped by Fire Lord Zuko. They saw his reverence of her. They knew he could never do so.

That's why they had picked her.

A/N: Next chapter, lotsa smut. Now that the boring stuff is over ;)

Review if you'd like to see it!