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She burst through the gardens, passing cedars and gingko, flying by fire lilies and camellias, becoming momentarily distracted by the cuteness of a flock of turtle-ducks swimming about before returning to her most imperative escape.
Born of a different kingdom, she had never felt an affinity to the infamous Fire Nation—but today the anger in her heart and soul burned white-hot. Trained since birth in the high-status 'arts' of ettiquette and femininity, she knew that anger was an unladylike emotion to have. And she knew—deep down—that the anger burning in her chest was laced with something deeper: a jarring, unmistakable sense of fear. On any other day, she perhaps would try to remember the teachings drilled into her brain. But today was not like any other day.
Her attendants had sighed deeply and rolled her eyes as she ran off with nothing but a choked, shaky call for fresh air, but they did not attempt to stop her. Everyone was well aware of her displeasure at her betrothal, though they did not care to understand why. In their eyes, she could not have dreamed for a better match than the literal Fire Lord. She would want not for the rest of her life, taken care of by Fire Lord Zuko—and if not him, his coffers. The leader of one of the most fearsome nations was a match well above her station. Agni willing, she would be queen one day, and yet, she was unsatisfied for reasons unbeknownst to those around her.
The young lady lifted her skirts slightly as she hurried deeper into the palace's sprawling, endless gardens. She felt a twist of anxiety in her; was there an end? Was this some hellish nightmare, and she'd never find a way to escape? She was not sure where she was headed, but the sight of a tall wall in the distance lifted her spirits slightly, releasing (a miniscule amount of) tension in her shoulders, unfurrowing her brow. She knew the chances of a true escape were more than insignificant, but she did not know what else to do.
She had known of her future duties as a lady and a wife since before she could even write her letters. It remained a part of her, a trusty pit of dread, throughout her entire life. She had seen sisters, friends, other girls she knew cowering beside cruel beasts of men, tears streaking lightning down their faces as they kissed and pledged fealty to brutes old enough to be their fathers.
They had left for Imperial City not even a full day after her parents had broken the news to her. She knew it was probably by design—she would have definitely attempted an escape plan, had they given her more time to mull it over.
She did not know anything about her husband-to-be (lord-to-be? his-majesty-to-be? how ridiculous), and perhaps that is what scared her the most. If she had heard tales of him, any at all, she might know better what to prepare herself for. Any tale she had heard of the Fire Nation and its royal family, though, had been worse than the last. Princess Azula—said to be the most cruel, vain, and heartless young woman conceivable to man. Now Azula she had heard about. A calculating, power-hungry firebending prodigy known for flames that burned so hot they were blue. How was that even possible? And not to mention the ruthless manipulation, the ability—and preference—to use fear to control others.
And her father—Ozai—the narcissistic, world-domination-pursuing, heartless man responsible for the Hundred Year War. Even her parents had remained tight-lipped on their long journey here regarding her bethrothed and his family—her future family. She was not sure why they had not tried to comfort her, even if they had to lie about her betrothed's nature by doing so, but she did not think it boded well.
As she finally approached the wall, the adrenaline coursing through her veins seemed to vanish all at once, leaving her weak and out of breath—or maybe that was due to the heat of drowning under such heavy silks and hairpieces. She took a beat to lean against the red stone wall, surprisingly cool under her touch despite the obnoxiously ubiquitous warmth that settled over the Fire Nation like a mothering blanket.
All shame left her as she slid down into a sitting posision; dress be damned and back to the wall. Even after everything, her training was too engrained in her; the need to preseve her makeup 'and therefore beauty' imperative as she furiously blinked back tears. Her Judgement Day had barely even started, yet she was already overwhelmed. The smell of Imperial City as they entered through the gates, the sheer magnitude and intimidation of the Royal Palace, the burning eyes of the onlookers in the outer yard already calculating sycophantic pploys for favor to increase their station. The careful judgment in her future subjects' eyes. She could not imagine herself living here, constantly gawked at behind her back, the constant pressure to be the perfect wife in such a formal and intimidating place. She already longed for home.
After what seemed like an eternity, she finally found the strength to rise up off the ground. She took a few steps back, carefully assessing and strategizing the situation before her. After a quick look back, she confirmed her location was tucked away from prying eyes. Good. It'll make the escape easier. She had heard of the awe-inspiring grandness of the Royal Palace, but this wall did not seem so tall, all the way in the back of the gardens and with who-knows-what beyond it. Perhaps she was delusional, but she did not think this an impossible task. One woman against one tree? She had climbed many a tree as a young girl, after all, and had become quite proficient at it.
She held a calculating look on her face as she touched some slight dent in the wall, tugged gently at a vine to assess its load-bearing capabilities, kicked off her infuriatingly uncomfortable slippers that had been pinching her feet. She was just assessing whether her fingers would have enough grip to fit in a small but sizable crack in the wall, when someone cleared their throat loudly behind her. She jumped away from the wall immediately with a startled shriek, whipping around so fast she almost got dizzy.
The man in front of her took her breath away. Absolutely gorgeous. She almost considered marching right back into the palace, just at the sight of him—almost. Nobody would be gorgeous enough for her to forget the lifetime of pain and suffering she was sure to endure under the hands of the most powerful and fearsome leader of the most powerful and fearsome nation.
He was framed in a black tunic and doublet with intricate red and gold embroidery illustrating the illusion of flames licking up his arms. His boots were a matching shade of black polished to absolute perfection; she could see the reflection of the clouds in the sky on them. His hair was long and glossy—she thought that it might even put her own to shame. She could not make out the color of his eyes from where she stood, but she noted the quizzical, curious smile on his face. And his scar—unmistakably a firebending injury. It brought focus to his beautiful eyes. She wondered how he got it. She had to admit he was most handsome, though she knew it to be an inappropriate thought.
When she did not say anything, the man decided to speak first, both caution and bewilderment in his tone as if she were some form of startled bird.
"Hello, my lady. Are you in need of any assistance of some kind?"
She shook her head slightly at him,and turned back to the wall. "I am quite fine sir, thank you. You may leave me be," then muttering under her breath "go back inside and wait with the rest of the gawkers."
Unbeknownst to her, the man caught the last sentence she had muttered under her breathm and his amused smile only grew at her words as he observed her silently.
"I will," he reassured her, but she didn't miss the teasing lilt in his tone. "But first… a question if you may. I'm curious."
Her temper rose at his obnoxious response, stepping down and turning back to him in annoyance.
"Depends on the question," she snapped, narrowing her eyes at him in deviance. "As you can see, before you so rudely interrupted me, I'm busy." That only made his smile grow and his eyes sparkle, however.
"What is it exactly that you are doing?" He asked, shifting his weight from left to right, settling with his arms clasped behind his back. He eyed her with a tilt of his head, an infuriating hint of a smirk. He seemed completely at ease, comfortable in this agniforsaken garden as if he was born here. While her heart was hammering with adrenaline, the only emotion on his face was genuine curiosity which confused and frustrated her a great deal.
"Nothing," she was quick to resort, crossing her arms in a manner that definitely gave off imperiality, not defensiveness.
He chuckled at her response, shaking his head slightly.
"It does not appear that way, my lady. You are, quite objectively, doing something."
"I am not."
"You are!"
"I. Am. Not. What business is it of yours, anyway? Are you some sort of guard sent to drag me back?"
His eyes lit up at her words. He clearly knew something she did not, and it infuriated her greatly. Men can be so insufferable, she thought bitterly.
"I am no guard, do not worry. I am merely curious," he replied, leaning casually against a tree trunk and tilting his head at her slightly, encouraging her to answer his question.
She contemplated it for a second, before deciding she did not actually care if he knew the truth. What difference did it make, anyway? If he wanted to force her back into the palace he would have done so already.
She sighed. "If you must know, I am attempting to ascertain the besst way to climb over this garden wall."
The amused look in his eyes did not disappear, though he did seem slightly more bewildered.
"Climb-? Whatever for?"
He must not know who I am, she thought bemused. She rather enjoyed this back-and-forth with him, and she felt a thrill at the chance to express her true feelings to someone, as irrelevant a station as they may be, whoever this guard or servant was. She turned back to the man once more, determination flowing through her. A sharp inhale, then she told him-
"I think he may be a beast," she replied simply, attempting to grasp a vine that broke off immediately in her hold as she attempted to climb. She let out a disappointed huff as she stood back to reassess, hands on her hips.
"A beast?" he repeated dumbly. The amusement in his smile and voice had disappeared, though she did not notice. His brows were furrowed, gaze almost hurt now, eyeing her carefully.
"Naturally. Some kind of lion vulture, or armadillo bear. Maybe even a komodo rhino. Now, would you be so kind as to help me?" She turned her head towards him, awaiting his answer. He plainly ignored her question, however, and instead returned hers with one of his own.
"Who are we discussing?"
She rolled her eyes at him and let out an annoyed breath. "Oh, well, that is impertinent. None of your business. Now, if you please–"
"I fear I cannot help you until you answer me, my lady," he replied in a low voice, crossing his arms. What a strange man, surely he had connected the dots and figured out who she was by now?
When he did not relent, she huffed again. She turned with finality, stepping closer and fully facing him now, waving her arms around slightly in annoyance. "The Fire Lord, of course. Zuko. No one will speak of him, not even my own parents. That cannot mean anything good—they must be terrified of him. He must be as cruel as his sister, if not worse."
A chill went down her spine as she voiced the thought of him being worse than the Princess Azula out loud. Was such a thing possible? A flicker of emotion she could not place crossed his face before schooling itself into careful neutrality. Now that she stood closer to him, she could make out his eyes. The daylight reflecting made them look like twin pools of gold. And his long, dark lashes fanning across his face? She was envious. But those beautifully gold eyes—she could not determine what that reminded her of, and her stomach twisted slightly at her inability to place it.
"I see," was all he said, continuing to analyze her, shifting slightly on his feet. His lack of words frustrated her. What could he possibly want from her?
She huffed again, uncrossing her arms and turning back to the wall. She had wasted enough time paying him any mind. At any moment the guards in the palace would notice she was missing, and begin the search party. Mostly to herself, she strategized out loud.
"Hmm. If I could just grab there…" she reached, and the thicker vine finally didn't disintegrate under her weight. "Yes!" she shouted triumphantly, lifting herself up. She kicked free a gnarled branch that caught on her heavy silks and angled her head back slightly in the strange man's direction.
"If you so truly want to be of assistance to a lady in distress, you could help me. Just lift me up here, would yo-"
"Uh, one question, my lady." She heard his footsteps as he stepped closer. He did not wait for her reply, and rather seemed mildly amused at her antics. "You do not like lion vultures, or armadillo bears? What he looks like matters?" A beat, then he asked, voice with slightly less confidence, "Do you believe all members of the Fire Nation to be monsters?"
She faltered slightly. Did he want to trick her into speaking treason, leading her to be executed?
"I would never speak such treason, Sir." Then she added, "And of course not. I do not care what he looks like." A breath. "What I do not like is not knowing. Now- enough of this. Here, Just brace my leg here and- and- I believe I'll be able to grab that branch and make it over the garden wall."
"Just to clarify: you want me to lift you over the wall so you may run away from the Fire Nation?"
That is what I said, yes," She snapped, beyond annoyed at the time they were wasting.
"People will notice you are missing, will they not?" He questioned, not caring in the slightest for her timeline, her pressure, the importance of her plan.
"That is not my problem, for I will be long gone by then. Now if you please, I just need a little help. Don't worry, nobody will know you were here. Nobody can see this area, they won't find out you helped me."
He once again stood there silently, not moving a muscle. She was quite done with him now, and attempted to climb the wall by herself. Once again, to no prevail. "UGH! Will you not help me?"
"I have no intention of helping you, my lady," he said, a smile in his voice. His eyes twinkled at her, and she the amber-gold of his eyes shone. It would be quite enchanting to see, if he was not the most vexing man in the Fire Nation in that moment.
"I am a lady in distress," she called out, desperation evident in her voice. "You refuse to help a lady in distress?" She said, voice rising even as she herself lowered from the wall again, stomping towards him. She stood only an arm's length away from him when he responded.
"I refuse, when that lady in distress is trying to go over a wall to escape the Fire Nation, only so that she does not have to marry me."
She gasped softly, the entire world coming to a standstill at his confession. Her eyes were as wide as the lilypads in the turtle-duck pond, and her mouth opened and closed as she took a step back, speechless.
Matching her retreat, he took a step forward.
"Hello, little flame. I'm Zuko."