the avatar, and that one good firebender, lee

fourteen

on his fourteenth birthday zuko was homesick, he recalls all too well. his soldiers had abandoned ship not too long ago, sick of waiting and watching tea serving, and he had grown smothered of the common life; of pulling down his hair, calling himself lee , treading around towns and garnering no respect from any passersby. and, zuko recalls, he'd grown tired, so much so that iroh could no nothing to fix it. "it just takes time," iroh repeated. "your impatience misguides you. we have yet to--"

" i have yet to find the avatar!" the prince erupted that night on the empty deck. and iroh had stood still, grown numb to his fits. but zuko, dissatisfied, took another step, "because you continue to misguide me. with your tea serving, your--everything, everything here!" he raised his arms to the tapestries, the porcelain cups, the green rugs. "i can't be here anymore! i should be at home!"

"and you will be, if you--"

"i would be, if you didn't let me in!" the shout drives deep, and iroh steps back, faltering in his approach, because he knows. "you let me in there and you let me speak." and the shouts dwindle down, still seething and spitting, "you burnt me. you sent me away."

and iroh had stood still, meeting the boy's shining eyes with his own shame. the guilt, lining his frown, his solemn stand. and zuko, never satisfied, retreated below deck, to grab a bag, grab his clothes, grab his belongings. the jasmine dragon, accustomed to avoiding the fire nation patrol, was ordered otherwise by the angered prince.

that is how zuko went home for his fourteenth birthday. iroh, complying, had stopped the ship by the patrol, allowing the soldiers to step on, and as the commander relayed a snide remark about the prince abandoning ship, zuko had snuck into the fire nation, against all cause to keep him away. after nearly two weeks of eating scraps, avoiding soldiers, and hiding out amongst peasants and commoners, all forgetting his name, he'd reached the eve of his birthday, and with it, the palace.

from as far as he could reach, he could see--his mother, still missing; the turtle ducks in the pond, uncared for; azula on the training grounds, training her electric fire; and his father, walking about, paying no mind. no wife there to bother him, no son to disappoint him, and zuko, stopping before the door, stepped away.

he met the teahouse at their next stop, where iroh ordered them to wait despite the prince's past orders. he climbed aboard, clothes tattered, hair unkempt, and his eyes downcast, and as the tea servers, all reluctant, kept their distance, he looked up, finding iroh's eyes once more. pushing past exhaustion, he ran forward, arms outstretched, and against all thoughts--iroh's, included--he held on, pulling his uncle in close. "zuko?" the man had asked. "you're back."

"i'm sorry," came rushing out, despite his instincts. but the warmth was enough, just as zuko had wished for, and so he stayed put, letting iroh wrap his arms around him. "it's not your fault."

"it's not yours, either."

"how can you forgive me?" the prince asks, wavering in his hold. "i hurt you. i abandoned you. i thought you'd be furious with me."

"i was never angry with you," iroh responded, letting go, and moved his hands from the boy's shoulders to his cheeks, settling gentle on the boy's skin. "i was sad, because i was afraid you lost your way."

"but i did lose my way." the warmth hovered above his left cheek, and he looked aside, away from the idea of his father's face, seething down at him. "i lost my place."

"there is no place for you to lose," iroh insists. and the touch, just the same, was warm, just enough, and never painful. "you saw that. and you came back," his uncle broke into a smile, and zuko willed himself to do the same. "and i am so happy you found your way here."