The morning after the duel, Iroh was making his way to his son's tent. He stopped for a moment, reveling in the brisk early fall breeze. He spotted Zuko sitting in front of his own tent, eyes closed and breathing carefully measured; he was meditating. Iroh was loath to interrupt his nephew's meditation, but before he could keep walking Zuko had addressed him.
"Hello, uncle," Zuko said quietly, still not opening his eyes. Iroh smiled.
"How did you know it was me?"
"Are you kidding?" Zuko replied, opening his eyes to throw his uncle an amused glance, "people on the other side of the earth kingdom could hear your footsteps." Iroh laughed jovially but Zuko's smile faded. "I'm sorry, uncle. For not coming yesterday. I just…didn't want to see anything happen to Zahani." Iroh nodded.
"I understand."
"Everyone's been talking about how well Zahani did. I'm really glad he didn't get hurt, uncle, but I still don't understand why he fought in the first place." Iroh looked at Zuko for a long moment, and knew that his son was right. Zuko wasn't ready to know what his son had told him. Shrugging nonchalantly, Iroh smiled at his nephew.
"Why don't you ask him yourself? I was on my way to speak with him." Zuko nodded, and got to his feet. The two made their way to Zahani's tent and Iroh opened its flap. The room seemed completely undisturbed, and Zahani lay on his bed, apparently asleep. In fact, the only thing that was unusual at all was the gaping, charred hole in the center of the young man's body. A hole that was obviously created by an incredibly powerful fire blast. Zahani had been murdered.
Despite the grief and horror flooding Iroh's mind, he somehow managed to hold onto his nephew as Zuko fell to his knees. For a long time Zuko simply clung to his uncle, shaking uncontrollably. Through the racking sobs, Zuko could only manage one question.
"Who could have done this, uncle?"
Iroh did not reply, yet the image of his brother's face from the day before, the rage and retribution in his eyes, rose in his mind once more.
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Almost two years had passed since Zahani's death. Zuko, with his uncle's help, continued searching for the Avatar. After the events at the North Pole, however, it did not seem they could continue. Zuko, however, remained as determined as ever. One day, unexpectedly, they received a visit from Azula, Zuko's sister, who explained that Ozai wanted Zuko home. Iroh was skeptical, but Zuko seemed thrilled at their good fortune.
"We're going home…after three long years. It's unbelievable!"
It was the night before they were to leave for the fire nation and Zuko was packing his bags. Iroh could hear the excitement in his nephew's voice and understood it, but he felt he needed to be the voice of reason.
"It is unbelievable. I have never known my brother to regret anything."
"Did you listen to Azula? Father realizes how important family is. He cares about me."
The words sent a pang through Iroh's heart, and as he turned to look at Zuko he remembered the day the young prince had been banished. Iroh remembered how young he had been and how alone he had seemed. He remembered his own son and how caring Zahani had been towards Zuko. He remembered how easy it had been to treat Zuko as a surrogate son when Zahani seemed to have taken him on as a surrogate brother.
"I care about you! And if Ozai wants you back, well, I think it may not be for the reasons you imagine."
"You don't know how my father feels about me. You don't know anything."
Iroh fought to suppress the pang of grief that welled within him at the rage in his nephew's voice. Once again Zahani's face appeared in his mind's eye but, as always, the image twisted itself into that awful day when he found his son's body. Almost speaking to himself Iroh replied to his incensed nephew.
"Zuko, I only meant that in our family, things are not always what they seem."
Author's note: Well, that's it…I had a lot of fun writing this, and I hope you all enjoyed it… : )