"Nik-Naks"
Zuko POV, before ep 15.
Zuko gazed disdainfully around his uncle's room.
"Uncle, why do you have so much junk?"
"It's not junk," his uncle said defensively, "It's treasure."
Zuko picked up an old pipe, its elaborate enamel design chipped away and cracked with years. "I hardly see the value of this," he intoned, lip curled.
"Ahh," Iroh said fondly, "That was gift from an old war friend of mine. Before he left the army and disappeared. We had many good smokes together."
"And this?" the prince picked up a delicately woven handkerchief, yellowed with age. A bit too feminine for his uncle.
Iroh smiled, a bit sadly, "That was the first birthday gift your mother gave me."
Zuko put down the handkerchief gingerly, as if the handkerchief had suddenly turned sacred. He would have stopped asking questions at this point, but something grabbed his attention. A malformed lump of clay, crudely painted over.
"And what about this? You cannot tell me this is not junk."
Iroh laughed loudly, his belly shaking. "Prince Zuko! That is a gift you made me when you were four! You were so proud of it!"
Zuko stared down at the clay figure, embarrassed such a thing came from his hands. "What is it?"
"A dragon, I believe."
"Why did you keep it?" Zuko asked, still embarrassed.
"Because you made it," his uncle smiled.
The prince shifted uncomfortably, trying in vain not to be touched. "It's too crowed in here. I'm going to meditate in my room," he said gruffly, closing the door behind him.
The prince entered his room, eyes scanning the space.
Bare.
Granted, there were swords, banners, and a large dragon mask on the wall, but those were strictly for aesthetic purposes. He had nothing that held special meaning, save that necklace, but that belonged to the girl and not him.
His room was bare.
Zuko paused a moment, then turned. He was going back to his uncle's room.