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PRECIOUS
The picture was a mystery to Zuko.
He had found it in Iroh's old quarters. The restored prince shouldn't have been anywhere near anything even remotely connected to his uncle, but no one ever said Zuko was smart (not even his girlfriend, although he didn't really blame her). It was all Iroh's fault, betraying the Fire Nation and refusing to recognize that Azula had finally won. Why couldn't he have just gone along with the situation, back under Ba Sing Se, and done what he felt he had to later? That was the way the former Dragon of the West had usually played things. But no, this time he had to make a stand, to sever all ties to the Fire Nation, and with his supposedly precious nephew. It was the former severance, though, that made it dangerous to be associated with Iroh. Zuko had only just won back his position as Prince of the Fire Nation, and any hints that he still sympathized with his imprisoned uncle could very quickly ruin all the good things that were happening for him.
Yet there Zuko had gone, sneaking into Iroh's dark and dusty room, for reasons not even he could identify. He had poked around the room, trying to feel his Uncle's prescence there. Certainly, there were enough of the man's things lying around. Scrolls, a few books, some musical instruments (Zuko's memory briefly flashed with the Tsungi Horn his uncle had bought just before their ship had been destroyed), a number of marked up maps, and of course a fancy tea set, amongst other clutter. As he perused all this, Zuko had found the picture, lying unframed atop a pile of parchments. It was a sketch of Iroh, specifically his face, with only a few light lines giving the impression of his chest. It was a decent likeness, Zuko decided, but he was surprised to see the hair shaded its current white. Iroh's hair had only lost its color after Lu Ten had died, and by that time, there were precious few people who would have even wanted a picture of the man. His wife and son were dead, and his parents, while his scornful brother was apathetic to his existence, and all his former friends moved on to more pressing matters. Zuko alone, out of all the people in Iroh's life, would have accepted a picture of him, but the two had been practically inseparable in all that time, living in the same palace, and later the same battleship. What need would Zuko have had for it?
Zuko had rolled up the picture, slipped it inside his sleeve, and hastily retreated from the dark room. Azula had caught him coming out of that particular wing, but couldn't have seen Zuko's prize. She just smirked and shook her head at him before moving on.
Unlike his picture of his mother, Zuko hadn't displayed Iroh's likeness.
When he finally left the palace and his false life to go restore his honor, Zuko left behind his mother, and took his Uncle.
As he struggled to fit in with the Avatar's group, his Uncle's face had been a touchstone of comfort. True, Zuko felt crippled with guilt every time he looked at it, remembering how he betrayed the only person in the world who truly loved him, but it was a precious kind of guilt. It reminded him that he was finally thinking the way he should. Whenever he had doubts, or frustrations, or questions he couldn't articulate, the young Prince could retreat to the privacy of his borrowed room in the Western Air Temple, and feel Iroh's wisdom flash in his memory.
The night he returned from the rescue mission at the Boiling Rock, Zuko didn't bother going back to his room to sleep. He just laid down in the airy courtyard with the rest of the Avatar's friends, finally feeling a sense of camaraderie with most of them. For one night, he was free from guilt.
He was awakened the next morning by a full military assault on the temple, led by his sister. Zuko did what he had to, and leapt forward to protect his new friends and allies. He almost died, plunging down to the unseen depths of the canyon, except salvation came and he somehow landed on Appa's saddle, Katara's hands firmly keeping hold of his arms.
There was no time to go back for possessions, no matter how precious.
They couldn't know, but after Zuko and the Avatar had fled, Azula ordered the Western Air Temple bombed out of existence. Iroh's picture burned when the stone walls crumbled around it.
END
