Even when he knew there was nothing for him at home anymore, Zuko missed it. He missed his bed, his chambers, the servants, the security. The ship was as comfortable as an old warship could be, but it just wasn't the same.

At least he wasn't lonely. Uncle Iroh was always glad to spend some time with him, and Mai was the best company he could ask for. But he always felt a little guilty at her being involved, even if she wanted to be there it didn't mean she should.

When you have captured the Avatar, you may come home.

Zuko closed his eyes. He wondered if the Fire Lord even missed him...hah, that was rich. Fire Lord Ozai, missing the son he personally humiliated and sent into exile?

You're just a banished prince. No home. No allies. Your own father doesn't even want you.

"Shut up, Commander Zhao!" he yelled as the words rang in his ears. Zhao was wrong, his father did want him, he was just angry, as soon as Zuko came back with the Avatar in his grasp, he would be accepted again. He would be the hero, the favored child, the perfect son his father always wanted, he would...tears stung his eyes, he forced them back. Men don't cry, he chastised himself.

"Prince Zuko?"

"Come in." Zuko rubbed his eyes as the door creaked open.

"You barely ate anything tonight. Are you feeling well?" Iroh asked as he stepped inside.

"I'm fine," Zuko mumbled. "Is Mai feeling better?" Earlier that evening Mai had complained of a stomachache; since she wasn't normally prone to seasickness Zuko knew he'd be sleeping alone for at least five more nights.

"She's fine, she fell asleep some time ago," Iroh said. "I'm more worried about you, nephew. You're not dwelling on-"

"I'm fine," Zuko snapped. "Just go to bed, okay? I'm tired, we're all tired, let's just call it a day and get some rest."

Usually when Zuko lied about how he was feeling, his uncle played along, but not tonight. He crossed the room and sat down beside the prince.

"Being homesick is nothing to be ashamed of," he whispered.

"...I guess." Zuko sniffled audibly. Men don't cry, he reminded himself, but when Iroh wrapped an arm around his shaking shoulders, he let himself slump against a broad shoulder, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Iroh said nothing and simply let him cry.