Song: The Poet and the Pendulum, by Nightwish
Be still, my son. You're home.
When Zuko was banished, Iroh jumped at the opportunity to accompany him. For one thing, life among the Fire Nation nobility gave him migraines. More importantly, he had already lost one son; he had no intention of losing another. Without so much as a parting glance, he boarded the ship which would most likely never return from its fruitless journey in the hopes that one day, Zuko would realize the open sea, with its endless opportunities and at least one loving family member, was a better home than the Fire Nation ever had been.
Oh, when did you become so cold?
Three years later, Zuko still had not learned that lesson. He hid behind his anger, trying desperately to regain what he had never lost to begin with. Iroh tried to lead his nephew toward the right path, but often he remained passive, well aware of the fact that Zuko would have to make the ultimate decision on his own. Iroh only prayed that Zuko wouldn't let his love for Ozai cloud his judgment.
The plague will keep on descending.
Iroh blamed his brother for the fall of Ba Sing Se; for twisting the minds of his own children so harshly that they failed to differentiate between right and wrong, good and evil. Zuko may have chosen to return to the Fire Nation, but Ozai had laid the foundation for such betrayal. Iroh grieved; he had wanted his companionship to be enough for Zuko, but the boy had let his scars overrule his heart. Now the once feared Dragon of the West had no choice but to watch the world crumble at the hands of fire.
All you need is to feel my love.
Never one to lose hope completely, the former general took it as a personal challenge to make Zuko aware of their family's history. Perhaps, if the prince understood his lineage, he'd understand his own mind and thus his own potential. It was a pretty big "if" – his nephew could be plenty stubborn. At any rate, it was worth a shot.
Search for beauty. Find your shore.
Iroh wept as Zuko apologized. His tears weren't from sadness. No, if anything, they were from relief. His son had finally found his way, and Iroh could not have been more proud.
Try to save them all. Bleed no more.
Of course, such a path came at a price. Iroh knew that Zuko often struggled to maintain relations with the other nations and the nobility without sacrificing his morals. Most would have bemoaned a sixteen-year-old's ability to properly rule a nation. But Iroh had seen Zuko travel to hell and back, and knew he was a better man for it. He had faith in Zuko. He had faith in the boy whose loyalty had always been with the people first.
You have such oceans within.
Zuko grew stronger and more stubborn and even wiser with age. He didn't lose his temper as often. His decisions weren't questioned as much. The world had come to love him. The people recognized him not only as a great leader, but also as a human being. His very presence commanded such respect, but he was never quite able to remove that awkward tension from his stance. He was a ferocious fighter and a turtleduck lover. He never stopped working, often putting his country's needs before his own. Many credited the Avatar for the world's return to peace, but Iroh knew better. Without Zuko, without his dedication to peace and justice, the world would never have recovered in their lifetime.
In the end, I will always love you.
They both knew he was dying. Iroh watched as his nephew shed silent tears. A small part of him was afraid; he still had so much to live for. Ultimately, however, time was the enemy, and if Iroh was honest with himself, he had to admit that Zuko wasn't alone anymore. He had friends and family who loved him, a world's worth of respect. There was nothing left for Iroh to teach him. There was no reason left to stay. That being said, he wanted to. He wanted to be present for every milestone of Zuko's life. Most of all, he wanted Zuko to know that he had never been fatherless, that he never would be. He wanted Zuko to know he was loved.
"I know, Uncle. Believe me, I know. I owe you so much, and I – I can't ever repay you." Zuko's voice broke as he rested his head on his uncle's chest. Iroh mustered up the last of his strength to wrap his arm around Zuko's shoulders, and knew in that moment that no other scene could more perfectly illustrate their bond.
Iroh and Zuko.
Uncle and nephew.
Father and son.