He reached down to tilt her chin up. She thought he'd be gentle, but he gripped hard, jerking her face up towards his.
"Beautiful." His voice was as deep and raspy as ever, but it was short and curt, the word ending bluntly instead of rolling into a murmur and a kiss. "Stand."
She obeyed. He used a single finger to move her arms out of the way of his inspection, and somehow he made each gesture an insult.
"Do you understand why you're here?"
"Yes," she murmured, turning her face demurely downwards.
"Yes, what?" he hissed. "From now on, you address me with respect, as 'your highness,' 'Prince Zuko,' 'Crown Prince,' 'master,' or 'my lord.' Understand?"
("Time out, time out," she whispered. "Not Firelord?"
"No–Toph, you have to say the safeword if you want a time out, you can't just stop in the middle of the scene."
"Okay, my mistake, but why not 'Firelord'?"
"I–well, when I–um–when I used to imagine this–I was supposed to be married when I was seventeen, and I didn't think my dad would die, so I just–I pictured being called Prince Zuko."
"That's cute, in a kinda fucked up way. Okay, time in.")
The prince exhaled, and she could feel the heat of his breath as he refocused himself.
"Yes, Prince Zuko," she murmured. "I came here to be your wife."
"You came here to serve me. And what do you think that entails?" standing so close behind her that his clothes brushed against the bare skin and flimsy silk chiffon that separated them, he wrapped one arm around her hips and the other around her breasts, his hand gripping one hard, rolling her nipple between his knuckles.
"It–ah!" she gasped.
"Answer me," he growled.
"D-doing anything you ask?" she stammered. "I don't know, your highness."
"Obedience is required whether or not you serve me directly." His fingertips were skilled at the roll-and-squeeze motion that made her nipples sore and hard. "No, your service to me includes three things."
"What are they, my lord?"
He nuzzled the side of her neck, scraping his teeth along as he kissed it. "Mmh. You will fuck me when I say, how I say, where I say. You will be the perfect companion at my side in front of guests. You will bear me children quickly and often."
"That's five things," she whispered.
"You're a slave, not an accountant."
"Yes, your highness." She was impressed that he stayed in character.
"Now–" there was a rustle of paper, and then silk. "Get on…yes, get on your knees."
("Are you fucking kidding me? Are you reading out of a book right now?"
"You can't time out whenever you want, Toph!"
"Are. You. Reading out of. A book. Right now."
"I forgot what comes next."
"You f–what?"
"You have to be in a specific pos–look, just trust me! Yes, I'm looking at a book, but I need to, in order to do this right! TIME IN!–")
"–Get on your knees. Now."
She knelt down on the marble floor, chilled through the flimsy red lingerie she was wearing. Even the color and symbolism of the outfit declared her property of the Fire Nation.
The prince knelt behind her, huffing out an irritated breath. She could feel something wrap around her wrists–rope, silken soft, but still rope. Her breath caught in her throat. She'd had no idea.
"In the Fire Nation, nearly everything is elevated to an art form," the prince said quietly. Deft fingers tied a knot, and then he passed the remaining rope between her legs, drawing it up the center of her cleft, up her stomach, her chest. "Even this has a thousand different variations, all intended for beauty and pleasure."
(The book made more sense now.)
"What happens when I'm all tied up, Prince Zuko?"
"I'll satisfy your curiosity if I feel like it," he said, "and not before. Silence."
So she waited.