"Fine, Zuko, go on believing in a lie as long as you wish. But you're a fool if you honestly think capturing the Avatar will win you the approval of a father who doesn't love you!"
It was true, Iroh thought as he dried the dishes in rapid succession, knowing but not especially caring that he was doing a bad job. He knew his brother, Ozai only gave you one chance to redeem yourself and if you failed, that was it. Zuko had fallen from the man's good graces forever, and he was foolish to think he still had a chance to earn them again.
"But did I really need to be so hard on him? Even if it was what he needed to hear..."
Iroh sighed. He wanted Zuko to be happy, wanted him to understand that he didn't need his father's approval to validate his existence. He was a good person, and if the Fire Nation didn't want him as their future Fire Lord it was their loss.
But what about what Zuko wanted? Was it really right to take away that last thread of hope, the one thing he still had left to hold onto? He couldn't get the image of Zuko looking like he'd just been slapped out of his mind, an expression similar to the one the day of the Agni Kai.
He needed to hear the truth, but he didn't need to have his dreams crushed. There was simply no right answer this time, and the only way to make it right again was to talk to his nephew. Iroh put down the cloth and the last dish and walked to their sleeping area.
Zuko lay curled up in a tight ball on his mat, his breathing hard and tense, the blanket clutched so tightly in his hand his knuckles were white. Iroh knelt down beside him and stroked the back of his head.
"I'm sorry, Zuko."
Zuko opened his eyes and looked up, forcing a smile.
"Hey, I yelled at you all those times before. We're even now," he said, but his voice broke on that last line and the tears he was obviously struggling to hold back were beginning to escape. "I'm just so tired. I...I just want my life back, I want everything to be the way it was before I got banished...before my mother left."
He suddenly fell against his uncle and grabbed the fabric of his robe, Iroh catching him in an embrace as the sobs began to wrack him.
"I know," was all he could whisper as he stroked the prince's hair. "I know."