Chapter Text
Zuko can’t believe his eyes as he gingerly unrolls the scroll he’s found. If the date is accurate, he’s holding a second copy of Avatar Szeto’s memoirs that has by some miracle survived the less than ideal conditions of the colony’s library. He hastily throws a few coins to the librarian and takes it to the ship, knowing full well he’s not going to be returning it.
At this point, Zuko is fairly certain he’s read most of the available scrolls that are not in the royal archives, finding them in colonial libraries or procuring them from various traders. Finding only a second copy of an avatar this ancient feels unreal; Zuko forces his hands not to shake in excitement as he maneuvers through the port crowd.
He hopes that maybe Szeto had written more about the Avatar state; none of the Avatars he’s read about shared much information about it. He’s not sure if they intentionally avoided the topic, or if the scrolls had been compromised during the copying.
Zuko strides up the gangplank and goes straight to his cabin, for once ignoring the crewmen playing cards on the deck.
He locks the door before sitting at his desk and unrolling the scroll again.
The scroll depicts a tale of Avatar Szeto’s journeys to the spirit world. While fascinating on its own, the thing that immediately catches Zuko’s attention is a passing mention of a ritual that grants a spirit’s favor; something he desperately needs, as it seems the entire world is trying to prevent him from succeeding in his quest.
The ritual seems simple enough - one must go to a spirit's shrine or a temple, and offer the spirit an offering, so when and if the spirit accepts, it would be bound to return the favour in any form it is capable of.
At least, that’s what Zuko can understand from the archaic language the scroll is written in; the heavy amount of flowery descriptions certainly doesn’t help either and just reminds him of his Uncle’s proverbs. What in Agni's name do flower picking and sour cherries have to do with any non-earth spirits?
Somewhere in the middle of the scroll, Avatar Szeto has helpfully provided a list of the temples he'd visited during his travels, so Zuko copies the location of the two Agni’s shrines that were built on remote islands outside the Fire Nation territories. Their current course runs fairly close to one of them, so visiting it will not be too much of a detour. Persuading Uncle he'd be perfectly fine inspecting ‘a shrine Avatar Szeto preferred for some reason’ on his own is much harder. After pointing out that the island is uninhabited and promising he'd return by the next morning, Zuko manages to convince Uncle to stay on the ship and spend the evening relaxing with the crew.
In a rare show of good luck, the shrine is actually still there and in one piece when he gets there.
Zuko looks up from the hand drawn map clenched in his fingers, to the old shrine in front of him. The map says he's in the right place, and he hasn't seen any other buildings during his trek there, but he’d expected a shrine of Agni to be less… tiny. The building he's standing in front of is rather small and has only the most basic features of a religious architecture; nothing like the grandiose temples he's been into back home. Probably because of its remote location and ancient age.
The doors that are supposed to guard the entrance are missing, leaving the shrine open to the elements. The wooden floor creaks ominously when Zuko walks in, his steps echoing in the empty room. The shrine is bare save for a small marble altar in the middle. Tiny specks of dust swirl in Agni’s rays as Zuko approaches the altar and sits seiza, suddenly feeling unsure of what to do next. The scroll didn't contain any useful details beyond the general concept of what people did in temples.
Well, if nothing happens, at least he hadn’t taken the entire expedition too far off track.
Sunlight pours in from a skylight in the ceiling, and Zuko tilts his face up to its gentle warmth before speaking.
“Agni, I've come to offer a favor.”
Nothing happens, and for a few moments he feels immensely stupid, sitting alone in a ramshackle shrine on a desolate island on the edge of the world, talking to himself and expecting the universe to give a damn.
Before disappointment can settle in, a column of fire rises from the altar in a flash so bright that Zuko has to turn away to protect his eyes. The heat should have burned him, but it doesn’t. Every hair on his body stands on end in the clear presence of a powerful spirit, and Zuko kowtows before he even realizes he's moving, forehead touching the ground and the back of his neck bared.
Holy shit it had worked.
“Rise, my child.” The voice he hears is melodic, and kind, not at all what he'd expected after reading the fire sages’ scrolls about their interactions with Agni. He had definitely noticed that Agni's description varied greatly from sage to sage, but he’d taken this as further evidence that at least some of the sages had been making up their own encounters.
The flash of light fades, but the accompanying heat doesn't, warming up the entire shrine in a matter of seconds. Zuko slowly straightens, still on the ground but looking up and up and up until he can’t anymore, and he can see the spirit’s face.
Zuko can't stop his soft sound of surprise; he's seen that face before on every royal portrait, as if all of his forefathers have merged into one person. A face that could've been his own too, once, before he lost his honor.
“It's been a long while since one of my own called to me.” Agni smiles down at him before folding himself downwards, mirroring Zuko’s seiza. The royal silks wrapped around Agni’s body are blood red, simpler than any modern design, but still unmistakably belonging to a fire lord.
He looks like a human, but the strength of his inner fire is too immense to be mistaken for anything but a God. The air around them is rich with ozone, and it takes Zuko a considerable amount of willpower not to fold down again, to hide his face.
“What do you need a favor for?” Agni asks, sounding genuinely curious.
“I need to restore my honor,” Zuko manages to say, still overwhelmed at the fact his patron God is sitting in front of him.
Agni tilts his head to a side, a stray piece of basalt black hair sliding down his chest. Zuko watches its descent.
“Do you consider it lost?”
The question surprises him enough to make him meet Agni's piercing gaze again.
“I’ve lost an Agni Kai. I’ve lost my honor. Doesn't A- don't you oversee every Agni Kai, sir?”
Agni isn’t smiling anymore.
“I do. Your father is a waste of my light.”
Zuko’s first instinct is to argue because you can’t just say that about a Fire Lord, before he remembers whom exactly he is talking to. He closes his mouth and swallows his protest.
Agni gives him a few moments to collect himself before asking, “What does a Fire Lord do, child?”
There are many possible answers to this question, and Zuko desperately tries to guess which one Agni wants to hear. A Fire Lord rules over his nation and all his subjects; but more importantly, a Fire Lord is a physical embodiment of Agni in the mortal realm.
“A Fire Lord carries out your will?” Zuko tries, his answer sounding more like a question.
Agni nods. “Exactly so.” His expression is both gentle and terrible to behold. “I have never willed for my children to be hurt, young Zuko.”
Zuko startles at the sound of his name before realizing that of course Agni knows his name. There isn't a single thing in his life that the God in front of him doesn't know. He stares down at the ground in front of his knees, ashamed.
Warm fingers grip his chin, firm but gentle, and raise his face up so he's forced to meet Agni's eyes. His gaze is intense, and Zuko refuses to be intimidated.
“What favor would you offer me, Zuko?” Agni asks, stern but gentle in a way his father had never been.
“Anything you wish of me, my lord,” Zuko says and means it. He needs all the luck he can get if he ever wants to return home, and he's prepared to give whatever it takes.
“That is a dangerous thing to say to a spirit, my child.” Agni’s fingers trace the skin of his neck until they reach the edge of his armor collar. A shiver runs down Zuko’s spine.
“Very well. Remove your clothing, then.”
The order throws him off a bit; he can only hope that whatever he needs to do naked won’t be visible from the ship.
He loosens up the ties of his shoulder guard before pulling it over his head. The shoulder flaps follow next, then the breastplate. He's put most of his armor off in a neat pile before Agni speaks again.
“I wish to make you my champion, young Zuko.” Agni gestures at his broken, scrawny, scarred form. “But you must first trust me with your body.”
Zuko’s fingers freeze on the ties of his right arm guard.
Oh.
Oh.
Being Agni’s champion is an unimaginable honor that only two of his ancestors ever received. Fire Lord Ryo and Princess Ukari’s royal portraits in the palace stood out from the rest, bright golden halos around their heads indicating that they had been granted Agni’s favor during their lives, 800 years apart from each other.
The scrolls of their dynasty’s history didn't go into much detail about the exchange of favors itself, but they had documented a significant rise in bending prowess for both of them. This is a much better boon than Zuko had even dared to hope for.
Naturally, he knows about sex; it’s impossible to spend three years on a ship and not pick up a thing or two from the crew's overheard bawdy stories. He had definitely imagined his first time happening under different circumstances, but he’d been prepared to sacrifice much more than his virginity for the opportunity Agni is offering him.
Once he's shed his armor, Zuko doesn’t have to wait long before Agni puts his hands on his shoulders. He resists the urge to flinch. Agni’s hands slide down his still clothed chest, an assessing touch first, until Agni’s thumbs graze lightly over his nipples. Zuko tries and fails not to shudder at the caress.
“All your clothing, my child,” Agni says patiently. Zuko can’t help but feel a little eased at the calm tone of his voice, even though he’s wondering if it hides something more dangerous underneath it, like anger, or contempt.
He stands to undo his belt and the ties of his leather skirt, and strips as efficiently as he can, forcing his panic down with careful, measured breaths. If this is about trusting Agni with his body, then Agni has no reason to hurt him.
He still can't imagine a possibility in which it wouldn’t hurt to let a god enter his body. Then again, it’s not a question of letting as much as it is one of offering himself to Agni. Maybe pain is part of the sacrifice.
By the time he’s entirely bare, his hands are shaking and he clenches them into fists to still them. Agni’s gaze feels like a physical thing, and Zuko has not felt this exposed since the day his father challenged him to an Agni Kai. He keeps his gaze fixed on the stone tiles below his knees, until Agni speaks. “You should not be ashamed. You are exactly what I have willed you to be.”
It’s a perspective that had never occurred to Zuko before, and it’s oddly comforting. He nods and looks up, but focuses on a point somewhere in the middle of Agni’s chest, at Zuko’s eye-level. He knows he’s blushing, but he straightens his back instead of hunching, and tries to believe that his God has made him perfectly.
Agni extends a hand to Zuko, and Zuko takes it, feeling incredibly shy all of a sudden. Agni tugs him closer until their knees are touching, and uses the other hand to tilt Zuko’s face upwards, so that he can meet Zuko’s eyes.
Agni’s eyes are like balls of flame now, and Zuko thinks he should be terrified. Any sane person would be terrified. But he is not afraid. Agni is not scary. Zuko nods, almost to himself. He is not afraid anymore.
Agni smiles and puts his hand flat on Zuko’s shoulder again, and Zuko doesn’t look away. The hand feels hot enough to sear through his skin, but it doesn’t hurt, even as it slides down gently to reach his stomach, where firebenders keep their sea of chi. The very moment Agni touches his core, Zuko gasps, because it feels like an explosion inside of him, like every inch of his skin is suddenly alight. Whatever Agni just did destroyed the barrier that all firebenders build around their inner fire to keep it contained, and heat begins to seep into his extremities, from his toes to his fingertips.
When the fire reaches his hips it turns into arousal so sharp Zuko has to grit his teeth against a moan, his hips twitching on their own accord and cock rapidly swelling into a full hardness. Agni pulls him even closer, until Zuko’s straddling his lap, trembling like a leaf. Zuko feels so warm that the silk of Agni’s robes feels like ice on his skin, and he’s almost surprised that he hasn’t accidentally set it on fire.
While Zuko tries to figure out where to put his arms, a hot hand wraps around his cock, and all of Zuko’s remaining self-possession can’t keep him from yelping at the sudden contact. It's the first time he's ever been touched by anyone but himself, and the sensation hits him hard, making him hide his face in Agni's neck.
Agni’s skin smells of summer heat, like smoke and ozone, and there’s nothing remotely human in that scent. The thought makes Zuko choke on his own tongue.
Agni, it really is happening, he thinks.
Agni strokes his cock again, and Zuko loses all of his decorum. He grips at Agni's robes in a desperate attempt to ground himself, not caring in the slightest about the delicate fabric.
Agni's other hand travels up and down his back, stoking the fire inside him until Zuko feels like he's burning up in his own fire. The sensations of Agni’s hand on his cock and the heat searing through his body are mind-numbingly pleasant, so much that he struggles to pay attention to anything else around him, the whole world ceasing to exist beyond the places where Agni is touching him.
He jolts in surprise when the hand on his back slides further down still, and squeezes his ass, the touch too foreign for him to stay still. His grip in Agni’s robes tightens as fear mounts, and he struggles to keep his breathing in check. He knows this is going to hurt. Everyone said this would hurt.
He keeps as still as he can as Agni touches him softly, almost like he’s exploring Zuko’s body, brushing gently against his opening with fingertips that feel cool and a little wet. “You are mine, Zuko,” Agni whispers softly, lips brushing over his healthy ear, “and you have offered me this favor. Have faith.”
Zuko nods, face still pressed into the crook of Agni’s neck, and tries to relax.
A slick fingertip presses inside him, finally, and Zuko trembles, not because it hurts but at the thought of what is happening to him now; the sheer knowledge of who this is. The sensation is not painful, but as Agni presses his finger in deeper, it’s alien enough to shake Zuko out of the pleasant stupor he'd fallen into. Zuko bites his lip when another finger joins the first, the stretch starting to burn as Agni presses in deeper and deeper into his core than Zuko thought possible.
“Good boy,” Agni murmurs, stroking his fingers inside Zuko like he’s searching for something. Zuko understands what it is when Agni twists his fingers just right, pressing against something that almost makes him leap out of his skin with how good it feels. Zuko has fingered himself a few times, out of curiosity, but it didn’t feel half as good as when Agni does it, his fingers longer and far more confident than Zuko’s had ever been
Agni hums at Zuko’s reaction, and rubs his fingers against the same place again, with careful, deliberate focus. “This will make it easier, my child,” Agni murmurs, but Zuki can’t make sense of his words because the sensation trips very quickly from pleasant to overwhelming, and then incandescent, and Zuko falls apart, shuddering with pleasure as he spills his seed between their bodies. Agni doesn’t even seem to notice the mess Zuko has made between them, sticky white fluid splashed across Agni’s silk robe. He would have been embarrassed, if he had the mental capacity left for shame, around the electrifying pleasure screaming through his limbs, making his toes curl. He thinks he’d have fallen over if Agni’s arms hadn’t been wrapped around him.
Agni keeps rubbing his fingers inside Zuko until he stops twitching, not because it doesn’t feel good but because he’s become numb, because he doesn’t think his body was capable of handling so much pleasure at the same time. Blood pounds in his ears like a roaring fire as he twitches in the circle of Agni's arms, unable to do anything but whine into Agni’s neck, and clench helplessly at Agni’s robes. He is but a puppet in his God’s hands.
Agni’s other hand strokes gently down his back, and after a moment, Zuko finds it a little easier to breathe, and less like he’s about to burn like a moth in a flame with the onslaught of sensation. He breathes, and realizes that he cannot pinpoint his inner fire anymore, because his whole body feels like it, throbbing in time with each deliberate breath of air that he takes. Agni is like a furnace against him, a blazing sun compared to the candlelight of his human existence.
Long moments pass in silence before Agni’s fingers slide out, leaving him slick and achingly empty. Zuko whines at the loss, clenching on nothing when Agni lifts him up as if he doesn’t weigh anything. “Is your favor willingly given, my child?” Agni asks, when Zuko is on his knees. “You must want this with all your heart.”
“Yes,” Zuko nods, fervently as he can, given that he still hasn’t regained full control of his extremities. “Yes, my Lord. I give this willingly, everything I have is yours.”
“Very well,” Agni replies, and gently brushes Zuko’s hair out of his face. He does not stand, but Zuko sees his hands move to untie the sash knotted at the front of his robe. Even sitting down, Agni is several heads taller than Zuko, and he can’t look away when Agni sheds his own robe. He is entirely naked beneath the red silk. Zuko’s heart jumps into his throat, and he swallows hard before squeezing his eyes shut. Fingers are one thing, but this -
“Trust that you are my own, and I will not hurt you, child,” Agni says again, hands on Zuko’s waist, lifting him until Zuko is in his lap, like he’s nothing more than an actual child. Zuko doesn’t think he’s been a child in a very long time. He doesn’t open his eyes, but wraps his arms around Agni’s neck and waits, trembling.
“Have heart,” Zuko hears, before something blunt brushes against his entrance, behind him. Zuko breathes deeply and doesn’t move. It brushes against him again before pressing into him, slowly but relentlessly, making Zuko choke on air at the sudden intrusion. It doesn’t hurt like he thought it would, but his body is conflicted between pleasurable fullness and the burn of the stretch.
Agni presses into him deeper and deeper, inch by inch, and it’s so overwhelming that Zuko almost sobs from the intensity of the feeling. It feels like an eternity has passed before he's fully seated in Agni's lap again, hyper-aware of every inch inside him. He tries to move a little, but the pressure does not give, and instead he manages to access the same places which Agni had stimulated with his fingers, making him cry out and squeeze around the intrusion.
“Hush, child,” Agni soothes him with a hand down his back, and then another pressed against his stomach, before he wraps his fingers around Zuko’s cock again. “Let me ease the way.” Agni strokes him gently before he begins to lift Zuko and then press him back down, penetrating Zuko inches at a time. It shouldn’t feel good. Zuko knows it shouldn’t. He’s been told that this is shameful and wrong, but God.
His own pleasure - though it is growing behind his belly - becomes secondary. His God feels so good that Zuko wants to sink to his knees in worship. It should feel like blasphemy, but it feels like prayer instead, the sensation of a sunrise inside him.
He’s so caught up in the feeling he almost misses the words Agni whispers to him. “Do you promise to be my hands and my eyes in the mortal world? To carry out my will where I cannot follow?”
“Yes,” Zuko whispers, because who is he to deserve such an honor. And then he remembers what Agni had said earlier - he is exactly as his God has willed him to be. “Yes,” he says again, more confidently, and then whines on a particularly hard thrust.
“Good,” Agni croons, stroking his neck softly and beginning to thrust even harder. Zuko can hardly move his own limbs, and is doing very little to participate in the encounter, but Agni doesn’t seem to notice. Zuko feels very small, and very beloved.
“Good,” Agni says again. “With this,” he says, gathering Zuko even closer to his own body, pressing hot lips against his forehead, “I gift you my grace,” he pronounces.
On the final thrust, deeper than any that have come before, Zuko feels Agni bloom inside him, wet and hot like blood, so plentiful and deep that it seems to seep through his skin like molten metal. He wonders if he looked down, whether he would see liquid gold dripping out between his thighs. Agni blooms and spills and it barely takes a stroke of Zuko’s cock before he’s coming too, a second time, clenching around Agni’s penetration and giving in to the urge to curl into Agni’s body, seeking protection and warmth.
His heart is pounding and his eyes are screwed shut and it’s so much, too much, he can’t take it anymore, but Agni is still pressed deep inside him, like he’s carving a space for himself inside Zuko’s body. There’s no need, he wants to say; his God will always be welcome inside him.
“Remember,” Agni says finally, laughter in his voice when Zuko has straightened again, his stomach still twitching from aftershocks, “the sun is always within you.”
Zuko doesn’t know what to expect, but he’s definitely not expecting Agni to lean down and sinks his teeth into the place where Zuko’s neck meets his shoulder, biting hard enough to draw blood. Every nerve in Zuko’s body sparks and catches fire at the same time, and he shouts from the pain, the sensation like pins and needles in every inch of his body, surging like a tsunami inside him, and his cock twitches helplessly in the air, too dry to spill any more seed.
He’s coming, he knows he’s coming, but he’s not capable of it, and his vision goes dark for what feels like long moments.
***
When Zuko comes to his senses, the sky is blood red with the sunset.
The shrine is still pleasantly warm and his body is heavy, as if after a long sleep. His head feels woozy as well, and for a few moments Zuko wonders if he'd passed out and hallucinated the whole encounter. A gentle breeze touches his skin and he realizes with a start that he's naked. He slowly sits up and tries to collect himself.
On his hips Zuko sees ten fingerprints blooming against his skin; ten pink spots tender to the touch but light enough that he thinks they’ll fade overnight. His neck throbs where Agni had bitten him, in sync with his heartbeat, but when Zuko raises his hand to touch it his fingers find nothing but heat. His hips are sore and his back aches slightly from the exertion, but when he touches his inner thighs, they’re dry and clean, even though Zuko can remember the feeling of Agni’s essence spilling inside him.
His legs still shake a little when he stands up and puts his clothes back on. His shoulder pieces are tricky to put on alone, so Zuko doesn't bother and just ties them together for carrying. He’s almost nervous about Agni’s teeth marks on his neck, because it’s bound to be obvious, but the high collar of his armor covers the spot nicely, and for the first time he wonders why the Fire nation always seemed to favor this particular style.
He steps outside and starts his trek back to the ship. By the time he reaches her the sun has set, and the crew has already gathered around a fire pit, tuning their instruments for the music night. Zuko lets them be, going straight to his cabin after nodding a greeting to his uncle.
Once inside Zuko grabs the hand mirror he uses for shaving and pulls his collar aside, trying to take a look at his neck. He’s expecting bite marks, but instead he sees a mark that looks like a fire lily, glowing with gentle orange light under his skin in the dark of his cabin, like a miniature sun hidden behind thin clouds.
He is so not looking forward to explaining this to Uncle once he notices it.