Writer's Note: Occurs after Book Two and contains spoilers.
Definition
For years, Zuko had it in his mind that his honour was dependant on bringing the Avatar to his father in chains. It was something he had taken to the heart, something that flowed through his veins. His happiness depended on it. If he was close to getting the Avatar, he could felt happy. If he was far away, he was unhappy. It was incredibly simple, incredibly easy, and incredibly misleading.
Then it all fell apart. His sister wanted him dead. His father probably did, too. He could only depend on Iroh, and in the end he still betrayed him. Everything was a spiral of loss and confusion and he still had no idea what honour was supposed to be. Was it the Avatar? Was it killing the Avatar? Azula had thought so. Gone so far as to kill him. Gone so far as to laugh about it later.
Was that kind of honour for him?
But then he wad distracted. By Mai. By smoky eyes and subtle smiles. By warm kisses and warmer embraces.
Days spent lying side-by-side on couches and beds. Nights spent skin-to-skin cocooned in whispers and laughter.
He was able to forget for a while. He was able to forget he wanted his honour back. Despite what Azula and Ozai said, he knew it was still far from his reach.
But when he did reach out, when his fingers touched smooth skin and silky black hair, when he looked into her face and saw smiles and happiness, he wondered. He really wondered if he had been chasing the wrong person this whole time.