Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Zuko cried many nights when Uncle held him. He couldn’t help it when the weight of living was crushing, when the demand his father made reached around his throat and removed the breath from his lungs. The act of being so open with his emotions was intoxicating in of itself, but was coaxed out of him with Iroh’s gentle touch and steady voice.

Such was a night that followed Zuko’s first confession of his inherent little-ness, tears wiped away by Uncle’s warm hands and heart gently mended together from its usual broken pieces.

It was late, the moon drifting high across the sky, reflecting against the gentle lapping of the ocean that could be heard as if it was a soft hum from the house where the two were staying. Zuko hadn’t slept a wink, hadn’t touched his dinner and went straight to his room to sit on his bed and rock back and forth as Azula’s hopeful lie that he would return home slipped in and out of his thoughts with a strange repetition. He still had his knees pulled up to his chest and arms wrapped around them when Uncle had come to check on him.

Zuko cried awhile, took many minutes to calm down, and even longer with his head against his uncle’s shoulder and fists rubbing his eyes in tiredness. But he was afraid to sleep, knew what would happen when his eyes would open the next morning, to wet bedsheets and shameful apologies to Uncle.

And just as Uncle had always managed to, he read his nephew’s thoughts. “I cannot stop what you are dreading from happening, but do not be so ashamed, Zuko. It’s just you and I.”

Zuko whined quietly but said nothing, too tired and small to speak, mind struggling to keep its focus on Iroh’s words. But even past the muddled mess that his mind was, he knew Uncle was right. It didn’t matter so much between them, but just as Zuko had always been, a layer of shame still encased every one of his senses.

And so each time he started to drift off his body would jolt him back into being aware of his surroundings, of Uncle’s soft humming that really wasn’t helping his plan whatsoever and the growing exhaustion that settled into his body. Maybe sleep would be okay, Zuko thought, as he started to drift away for good.

His dreams were filled with fire and deceit, terrifying abandonment and his own cries for his mother, and for his father to,

Stop, stop! Please don’t!

He awoke with a cry of despair leaving his throat, but was met with Uncle sitting on the edge of his bed. Zuko’s hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat, and his body was clammy, heart kicked up in his chest from its normal pace.

“Uncle!” He gasped out, reaching for him immediately, tears starting to roll down his cheeks.

“I got you.” Iroh met Zuko where he sat, holding him tight and placing a hand on the back of the boy’s head to secure him. He looked over to the blankets and saw a wet patch, grimacing internally.

Zuko hadn’t noticed yet, shaking and grasping onto Uncle like a life line. Iroh didn’t want to move him, and so it was inevitable that when Zuko was able to relax again he noticed the wetness of his lower half. Which did nothing other than start his tears up again.

“Sorry! I’m s-sorry!” Zuko pushed himself away from Uncle and back near his own mess, stuttering out apologies and scrambling clumsily.

“Zuko, it is okay. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Uncle offered his hand, Zuko lowering his head before taking it. “The bath is still hot, would you like me to help you?”

Zuko was gently pulled along and stared at his feet, shrugging at the question in a way that was somehow sad. Uncle didn’t force him to answer, but brought him outside to the bath that was sectioned off with dividers, checking the temperature of the water.

“I can do it.” The boy softly said, head still hanging low in shame.

Iroh stood and assessed him, hand on his beard in thought. “Okay. I will make tea.” He decided, running a hand through Zuko’s hair and brushing a thumb over his wet cheeks. He was going to keep an eye on Zuko from inside.

Zuko stood for a few moments unmoving once Uncle went inside, breathing as deeply as he could to continue to calm himself down. He pulled off his clothes with less ease than normal, shuddering when his hand grazed the wetness of his pants. In a hurry he stepped into the bath, sinking down into its warmness and relishing in the burning heat that rose to his chest and punished him for what he did. Stupid Zuko. Was the continual thought in his head, and despite the heat he nearly curled in on himself, chin brushing the surface of the water as he rested his head on his knees.

He didn’t know how much time had passed when Uncle came back outside to him, towel and fresh bedclothes in hand.

“Oh, nephew.” Iroh sighed softly, coming forward and kneeling next to the bath. “I know how much you are hurting, and I promise you, in time you will be better.”

Zuko lifted his head to look at his uncle. “What if- what if I’m not?” His voice cracked, tone full of heartache and lingering on the side of being spoken in innocence.

“Pain does not last forever. It flows like water, running through us. It may seem like a roaring river right now, but rivers lead to streams. In time your hurt will follow. All we can do now is go where it leads. And you are healing, Prince Zuko. You are allowing yourself to mend the child inside of you.” Uncle replied, holding Zuko’s gaze in sincerity.

Zuko searched Uncle’s eyes and found nothing besides truth, wisdom, and love. He nodded in understanding, at least as much as he could, and felt a weight lift from his shoulders that he didn’t even know he was carrying.

Uncle helped him dry off and pull the younger’s shirt over his head, leaving to go inside and protect the boy’s modesty. Zuko felt tiny and sleepy when he came inside, and his pointer finger absentmindedly found a way to his mouth and he chewed on it. When he knelt down at the table his finger was gently tugged out of his mouth by Uncle and a cup of tea was placed in that hand instead.

“Hot.” He said, putting the cup down.

Uncle raised his eyebrows. “Yes, and?”

“Too hot.”

“You can blow on it.”

“Oh.” Zuko leaned down until he was eye level with the cup, blowing just enough to make the surface of the liquid ripple. Uncle chuckled at his cuteness.

“Uncle?” Zuko spoke again, now drinking his tea in tiny sips. Uncle hummed in response. “Are you tired?”

“I am always tired, my dear nephew. When you are as old as me, you will find peace in constant rest.” He replied, eyes closed as he drank his tea.

“Not… ‘cause of me?” The younger said, quieter than his question.

Iroh opened his eyes. “Of course not. Any minute I spend with you, morning or night, I am grateful for.”

“Oh.” Zuko said, again. He smiled behind his teacup.

Zuko finished his tea slowly, and by the last sip his eyelids were drooping and he looked as if he was about to fall asleep right at the table.

“Bedtime, Zuko?” Iroh offered his hand to the boy again.

With a wordless yes Zuko took his hand and was led to bed like many nights before. But once Zuko was under the covers, he said something that surprised Uncle.

“Wish Mom were here.” His words slurred into one another sleepily as he snuggled into the blankets. “But…” Zuko didn’t continue as he was out cold.

He didn’t need to finish for Iroh to understand what he meant. Zuko would always miss his mother, but he needed his uncle just as much.

Chapter Text

Iroh could tell when Zuko woke up little. The boy would have a certain look in his eyes past the tiredness, something small in the way he carried himself. Such was a morning like this one, as the tea shop was closed for renovations and both knew that they had the time to relax for at least a day.  

Zuko was sat on his futon all huddled up into himself, casting shy glances to his uncle every few moments as the elder bustled around getting breakfast ready. Zuko wiggled his toes under the blanket he had around himself, huffing out a quiet giggle as he relished in the comfort of being able to just be small and safe.

“Come and eat, nephew!” Iroh beckoned him over, kneeling at the table and patiently waiting for Zuko to untangle himself from his blanket.

Eventually he shuffled over on his knees to the table, eyeing his bowl of food very closely before saying a small thank you to Uncle. His first few bites were successful even if he had to concentrate extra hard on not letting his food fall from his chopsticks before they made it to his mouth. But each bite got harder as Zuko’s hands decided to stop listening to his big self and instead decided on his little self.

The rice and eggs weren’t supposed to be on the table, Zuko thought, as he looked down at the mess he was creating. He tried again, and again, growing more frustrated every time he was unsuccessful at doing such a simple task. He went into his bowl to try again, but was stopped by Uncle placing a hand on his. Zuko frowned.

“Try this.” Uncle said, replacing the chopsticks in Zuko’s hand with a spoon.

Zuko’s frown tugged even deeper at the corners of his mouth. “But I can do it!” He exclaimed, reaching back to Iroh for the chopsticks.

Iroh held them just out of reach. “Zuko.” He warned. “Use the spoon.”

Zuko whined in frustration, feeling a curl of what his mind could only say was ickiness in his tummy at receiving stern words from Uncle. He didn’t know how today was going to go. Some days when he felt little he didn’t have a care in the world, and other days he felt like he cared about everything in the world. Maybe today would be both.

He didn’t say anything else but grumbled under his breath as he used the spoon, eliciting a smile from his uncle that made his frown lessen into just a pout across his face.

“Are you feeling up to coming to the market with me today?” Iroh asked after he was sure Zuko had calmed down.

Zuko looked at his spoon in thought. Was he okay with going outside while being little? It might be okay ‘cause Uncle would be with him... He nodded albeit reluctantly, deciding without much thought.

He helped Uncle clean up once they finished, carefully bringing the dishes to the washing bin before bouncing around for no apparent reason. The boy had plenty of energy that he didn’t know what to do with, no toys to play with other than Uncle’s Pai Sho tiles that were now strictly off limits after they went scattering across the floor a couple weeks prior and Uncle and him both spent an entire afternoon trying to find every single one. 

“Zuko, go get changed!” Iroh called from across the room as he finished cleaning up.

Zuko responded with a sounding “kay!” and was off to the dresser that held his clothes. He tugged off his sleepwear with ease but stumbled into his pants and socks, and was only barely attempting to get his robes over his head when Uncle came and pulled them over for him.

“Better?”

Zuko flushed but nodded gratefully, words not needed when the glint in his eye told Uncle everything. He slipped past Uncle to go straighten the blanket on his futon, a plan seeping into his little mind. He’d been a good boy so far, right? And by doing his chores maybe-

“Uncle?” Zuko said in a small voice as he fixed his bed.

Uncle poked his head out of the adjacent room. “Yes, Zuko?”

“D’you think that maybe we can get...” He urged himself to be a bit more brave but was embarrassed by what he wanted to ask, as well as strangely afraid of being reprimanded for it.

Iroh waited patiently again, (patience always being something extremely important when dealing with Zuko- no matter how big or small he was) wanting Zuko to learn how to ask for things. It was painful for Iroh to think about, that even something as simple as wanting anything was an internal struggle for the boy. He wasn’t around enough when Zuko was younger, to be able to see the ins and outs of how Ozai had treated the boy, but he didn’t have to be. The way Zuko acted now told Iroh everything he needed to know. But it didn’t make it any less painful.

He urged Zuko to go on with a reassuring smile.

“Maybe... A toy?” Zuko finally got out after a few silent moments, fingers fiddling with his blanket.

Iroh was very proud of him. “Of course, my dear nephew! You have been a big help around here lately.”

Zuko smiled widely, pure excitement lighting up his face, washing away any embarrassment that lingered. “Yay! Let’s go!”

Uncle Iroh chuckled heartily, telling Zuko to wait just a few more minutes. To the younger’s relief they were out the door fairly quickly into the hot sun- which wasn’t as much of a bother because of his excitement that made it hard to focus on anything else. But he was well aware of how he’d have to act outside, and considering he didn’t talk much anyways Iroh wasn’t worried about him.

He did clutch onto Uncle’s arm, grip growing tighter when they reached the bustling market square closest to them. People were all around, stalls full of fruits and carts of cabbages amidst the crowded atmosphere. Zuko was grateful that no one looked long at Uncle and him.

He followed Uncle as they weaved between many people, stopping at different stalls that caught the elder’s attention. Zuko was now impatient and antsy, tugging on Uncle’s sleeve every two minutes until they finally spotted a woman who sat under a tarp, with an array of toys and trinkets in front of her. Uncle guided him over and smiled kindly at the shopkeeper while Zuko studied the toys with wandering eyes.

“Looking for anything specific?” The dark-haired woman asked, question directed to Zuko but answered by Iroh instead.

“Just something a little boy would like.” Iroh said quizzically, peering down at the toys as well. He hoped Zuko wouldn’t need his help choosing anything. Remembering back to the gifts he gave Zuko when the boy was younger, he thought of the knife he had bought him. In hindsight maybe he should have given him more. But he couldn’t think that way now.

Zuko chewed on his bottom lip as he looked between blocks with Earth Kingdom figurines and a set of paint. He asked for a toy and not more, so his little brain was struggling to decide which he should pick. 

“Can’t decide?” The woman’s voice interrupted Zuko’s train of thought.

He looked to his uncle for reassurance and then nodded slightly.

“Tell you what. I’ll give you a two for one deal. Business has been slower than usual these days.” She said nonchalantly, pushing Zuko’s choices towards him. She’d picked up on him easily.

Zuko’s eyes widened in surprise and he looked to Uncle again.

“Tell the kind woman thank you!” He said, paying for them with a few coins into the shopkeeper’s hand.

“T-Thank you!” Zuko stuttered out, reaching and taking everything into his arms. He couldn’t believe it!

He bounded away with Uncle, face flushed with happiness. “Slow down! I am not as quick as I used to be.” Iroh chuckled.

“We gotta get back!” Zuko exclaimed, smiling probably the widest Iroh had seen on him in a long while. 

They were back at the apartment in a hurry, Zuko practically sprinting up the stairs to spread all his toys out on the floor.

He went to the blocks immediately, building a sort of house for the figures to go inside. His attention was nothing short of focused on his task, the venture outside easily forgotten.

“Uncle, Uncle, look!” Zuko exclaimed when he finished building his structure, pointing excitedly and whipping his head around to look for Uncle.

Iroh was sitting at the table with an incessant amount of paperwork relating to The Jasmine Dragon, but left his post to crouch down and look at Zuko’s creation.

“Hmm... Great structural integrity.” He said, hand on his beard in assessment. 

“Huh?” Zuko tilted his head, choosing to ignore the statement he didn’t understand. “It’s the tea shop!” He said with a grin after a moment more of Iroh staring at it.

“Oh! But of course! How silly of me not to see it. There’s the front, and,” Uncle pointed inside. “There’s even the kitchen!”

“Do you- d’you like it?” Zuko then asked, fiddling with his own fingers expectantly.

“I love it, Zuko! It is exactly like the tea shop!” Iroh replied immediately.

“Really?” The younger’s eyes shone in awed happiness, as if he couldn’t believe that something he did was worth praise.

“Really really. I promise you, it is as I said.” Uncle ruffled Zuko’s hair and gently patted him under the chin.

Zuko blushed slightly, pushing away his uncle’s hands and resuming his play time. He built a tower as tall as possible before it fell down, and eventually a block had made its way to his mouth absentmindedly as his fingers occasionally did. He was comfortable enough that his brain didn’t care, only going through motions that cradled his little self soothingly.

“That cannot taste very good, Zuko.” Uncle said from the table, having let Zuko chew on the block for nearly a quarter of an hour.

Zuko was jolted from his imagination and he took the block out of his mouth and wiped it on his pants. It was now covered in little teeth marks and his stomach dropped. He didn’t mean to hurt the block, especially when they had just bought them! Gonna be in trouble, gonna be-

His thoughts were cut short by Iroh’s presence at his side again. “I am not angry with you. It is one block. But if you’re going to put things in your mouth, then we need to find you something better.” 

“I-I won’t. Don’t need anything.” Zuko made his statement seem even more untrue by chewing anxiously on his bottom lip.

“I will not force you to do anything. But give it some thought, nephew.” Iroh raised his eyebrows at the boy. 

“Okay.” Zuko agreed, firmly believing that he wouldn’t need anything. Because, what would he need? A pacifier? He wasn’t a baby. Not even close. But you do wet the bed rang through his head. He shook the thought away as quickly as it came.

Zuko took a fleeting glance at his toys before pointing to his stomach and looking to Uncle as if the elder had every answer in the world.

“Use your words.” Uncle replied to his silent statement in a kind tone.

“Hungry.”

“Again?”

Iroh was met with a very forceful nod from Zuko. “What would you like?” He was now met with a shrug. “Would you like some fruit?” Another big nod.

“Can I help?” Zuko then asked, feeling worried that he was leaving too much work to his uncle. He didn’t want to be a burden to him, although he wrongly thought he already was. 

“Do you really want to? You can keep playing.” Uncle read him like a book

But the little nodded again, sticking to his offer of help.

Iroh decided on giving him mandarins to peel, fruits that required a knife being off limits considering how much of a battle he had with his chopsticks in the morning. He watched Zuko with a studying intent, noticing how he worked slowly to try and peel the whole mandarin in one single piece. The boy tended to work like this when he was small, slowly but surely doing tasks that he was given to ensure no mistakes. It was quite the opposite of how he normally was, and Iroh knew it was the familiar fear of what would happen if he did what he wasn’t supposed to.

Zuko ripped off a mandarin piece and offered it to Uncle who greatly exaggerated how grateful he was for it. Uncle was rewarded with a laugh from his nephew. Such a sound was wonderful to hear.

-

“I don’t want to!” Zuko whined loudly, although he’d never admit to actually doing so.

“We are late to open, Prince Zuko. Make haste.” Uncle stood at the apartment door, tapping his foot.

It had been a couple weeks since The Jasmine Dragon’s renovation, and it had never been more busy before. Zuko had started complaining halfway through the work week, and now the hours were catching up to him. He hadn’t the time to be little and the itch was incessant as he grew angsty from all the work. It didn’t help that he woke up in the middle of the night soaking wet and taking care of it himself.

He dragged his feet over to the door, face sour and shoulders drooping.

“Are you going to be alright today?” Uncle asked gently, hand on the door ready to leave.

“Yeah. Don’t worry.” Zuko brushed the question off, not even knowing the answer himself.

They were then off to the tea shop, Uncle with a usual cheery pep in his step and Zuko sighing behind him. There was already a line of people chattering outside, and Uncle sent Zuko right to the front to start letting people in. 

Order after order Zuko started to take, running to and from tables and developing a sweat across his brow. He began stumbling over his words halfway into the shift, and even relayed a couple orders incorrectly to which he apologized profusely to the customers and Uncle. 

His mind fluttered away to thoughts of his toys waiting for him in the apartment and listening to Uncle hum a song at bedtime. Maybe Uncle’d let him have time off after today. 
It wasn’t until Zuko made a mistake on a rather brooding looking customer’s order that trouble really started to brew. 

“Did you even listen to what I said, boy?” The man’s voice was menacing, tone unusually dangerous for those who usually came to the tea shop.

“Please accept my deepest of apologies. It won’t happen again.” Zuko bowed, clutching his tray to his chest to contain his anger at the treatment.

“I think it will happen again. What’s your name?” He demanded, bringing up his calloused hands to rest on the table next to the tea that he didn’t order.

“Lee.” Zuko answered shortly, glancing to his side to see if Uncle was anywhere near. 

“Well Lee,” The man jeered, “If you were half as good at serving tea as you were getting your face ruined by the Fire Nation, maybe we wouldn’t be having this problem.” He made a move to pour his tea on the ground, and Zuko moved quickly.

He kicked the man’s chair out from under him and clipped the side of his shocked face with the tray he was holding. Zuko was seething, and he landed another kick but this time straight to the man’s face. 

“Get out.” Zuko snarled, ready to hit him again when Uncle was pulling him away by his good ear. “Agh! Get off!” 

“Lee, I will handle it. Go to the back.” Iroh’s voice was chilly and Zuko knew he messed up. Bad.

He stomped off to the kitchen but peeked out of the curtains, watching as Iroh sent the rude man straight out the door and offered free tea coupons to everyone inside as an apology for closing early. Zuko gulped.

Once everyone had filed out and Iroh closed the blinds, he called for Zuko. The boy meekly shuffled out of the kitchen, and Uncle tossed him a rag so the younger could wipe the tables alongside him. 

“Uncle, he-“ Zuko started, heart thumping in his chest and head spinning. 

“We will clean, then we will talk.” Iroh cut him off.

Zuko swallowed the lump in his throat and got back to work, drawing in sharp breaths every now and then. He was so scared and couldn’t grasp why. Uncle wouldn’t hurt him, not like Father used to. And that man- that man was terrible. Zuko would’ve liked to send him out of the tea shop with a few more bruises. 

When they finished Zuko stood quietly with his eyes facing the floor, hands gripping the front of his apron anxiously.

“Come sit.” Iroh beckoned his nephew to the table.

Zuko sat, of course. He refused to look up until Uncle told him to, eyes meeting Iroh.

“Tell me what happened.” 

“I-I messed up that man’s order and he started talking about-“ He lifted a hand to his eye, “my scar.”

“I see. And do you think it was right for you to hit him?” Iroh asked calmly.

“He had it coming.” Zuko crossed his arms. “But... I-I’m sorry for ruining the day. I didn’t mean to.” He was yearning to add more to the statement, to explain that he felt small and overworked and angrier than usual. But those would be excuses, he supposed.

“You know we cannot afford to draw unnecessary attention. But you did not ruin the day, nor did that man have a right to say anything about you. You are having a hard time, aren’t you?” Uncle asked carefully, willing Zuko to open up.

“Tired. I n-need-“ Zuko’s breath hitched, “A break. I’m sorry, Uncle.”

Uncle gave him a smile that warmed his insides. “Okay. Wait here for a moment.”

Zuko was still nervous but managed to calm down, exhaustion sinking into his bones along with his inherent littleness. He put his head on the table, relishing in the coolness against his cheek. 

Uncle came back quickly, setting a few items out in front of Zuko. He lifted his head up suddenly and swayed backwards, Uncle placing a hand on his back to steady him.
There was a steaming cup of what Zuko expected to be tea, but was surprised when he looked into it and it was white and a sweet aroma drifted up from it. Uncle had also brought his paint and paper!

“I am going to see if we can find another trustworthy employee. What I want you to do is to put all of what you are feeling on this sheet.” Iroh explained, pushing the cup into Zuko’s hands for him to drink. It tasted sweet and comforting when he took a sip, and he wriggled happily.

Zuko was tired, but he felt like he owed it to his Uncle to do as he said. So he didn’t complain, only nodded obediently and picked up a paintbrush. He stroked the bristles against his hand to feel their softness, getting a pat on the head from Uncle and watching him head out the door.

Zuko talked to himself quietly to fill the silence, not particularly liking being alone right now. But it was okay, as he focused very hard on his painting. 

“Purple is... Red and blue.” Zuko mixed the colours, swiping over the paper and then chewing on the end of the paintbrush in thought.

He added more colours on top of more, until his sheet of paper turned out to be more of a mess than anything else. It was frustrating. The longer he sat and tried to fix it, the more he felt the lump in his throat rise. He took a sip of his milk. It was cold.

Zuko was in the middle of tearing his paper apart when Iroh returned. He immediately dropped the pieces and hid his hands under the table. And sniffled.
“S-sorry!” The boy cried out, tears starting to fall.

“Oh, Zuko. It’s alright.” Uncle was over to him in a second, rag somehow appearing to wipe Zuko’s hands with and then an arm around his shoulders. “Here, let’s see what you did.” He pushed the torn pieces close to one another, hmm-ing and ahh-ing as he held his weeping nephew. “It is brilliant.”

Zuko wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “H-huh?”

“You did exactly as I asked. That is how you feel!” Iroh pointed to the fragments of the painting, rough edges and all.

Zuko frowned, but no more tears spilled. “I guess.”

“And besides, Zuko, I would rather you use your anger and frustration on this paper than another customer.” Uncle added. “Now, I am not angry with you or anything of the sort. What do you say we go eat back home?”

Zuko slumped against his uncle in a wordless agreement of yes, please. He secretly hoped this time he got to spend with Uncle would last forever.

But an invitation to the King’s palace changed everything.

Chapter Text

Uncle was just inside the tent. Zuko was so close, but his heart thumped inside his chest quickly and unnaturally. He was sat on the ground, head hanging low and fingers tugging at the grass below his hands.

“You okay?” Katara’s voice but through Zuko’s anxious silence.

“No.” He honestly said, glancing up at her then back to the ground. “What if he doesn’t forgive me?” Zuko paused for a moment. “I shouldn’t expect him to.”

“Whatever happens in there, you’ll come out happy. I know it.” The waterbender placed a hand on Zuko’s shoulder.

Zuko took a deep breath, standing, and with a worried smile to Katara, entered the tent.

“Uncle?” It was dim inside, and he couldn’t make out his uncle’s shape until he spotted him, snoring away at the other end of the tent.

It was like a single stitch to his heart was added, sewing him up very tenderly as he laid eyes on Uncle Iroh. He smiled to himself, the snores familiar and somehow comforting despite how annoyed he always was about it in the past. He knelt down, knees on the ground and head bowed to wait until the other awoke.

It took a while. But Zuko meditated, controlling his breaths with every intake and exhale, searching for the right words to say to his uncle in his mind. I need to apologize. Ran through his head every minute, and his meditation helped to keep his mind in check, emotions flowing to the top of his heart and back down again.

He kept his head bowed when Uncle Iroh awoke. He didn’t know if it was in his place to even look up at the man. Iroh finally came over, sitting in front of Zuko.

“Uncle I am so sorry.” He couldn’t stop the tears when they came, everything spilling out of him in his apology. Zuko squeezed his eyes shut through the pain flowing through him. “I don’t know how you can ever forgive me-“ He opened his eyes to be met with his uncle pulling him into a hug immediately, grasping onto Zuko tightly.

Zuko hugged him back, letting his tears flow as he received what he had been wishing ever since leaving the palace. True, deep, familial love, and forgiveness.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” The boy quietly asked, small smile upon his face as he gazed up at his uncle lovingly.

“Of course, Zuko.” Was Iroh’s immediate response. “Now come, have some tea?”

-

Zuko told Uncle everything that happened with the Gaang. Absolutely everything. And Uncle listened carefully, nodding at the right moments and humming inquisitively, neutral but gauging Zuko’s reactions and explanations with the usual ease that the younger could never understand. He wasn’t surprised when Zuko told him about the unfortunate pee bending incident, but he did feel terrible for the boy.

“It was so- so… Demeaning. And I don’t even know how many times they did it. We haven’t talked about it since it happened.” Zuko explained with a saddened tone, watching the heat of his tea rise upwards to swirl with his uncle’s.

“I am very sorry it happened to you. But, it was what they felt was right. They helped in the way they could.” Iroh replied calmly and logically, wisdom on the tip of his tongue. “They are but children as you still are.”

Zuko let out a sigh. “At least they seem to understand me. I am grateful for them.”

Iroh smiled behind his tea cup widely. “You have changed, nephew. I am very proud of you.”

Zuko didn’t think he could ever get used to being praised. “Thank you, Uncle.”

“And I promise you we will get down to the bottom of everything going on with you. It will take healing from the inside.” Iroh spoke sincerely, wishing not to using words that would bother Zuko.

Zuko expected a wave of embarrassment but was met by none, only acceptance of his uncle’s words and as much understanding as he could gain from the abstract phrase.

“I missed you, Uncle.” He said aloud, voicing what was obvious. But he felt like he needed to.

“As did I. Who else was I to share tea with if not you?”

“You share tea with everyone.”

“Right you are, nephew!”