Inbox for Sn: Pai Sho - Avalon

[uncle_iroh]

(Please note that Iroh still does not quite understand his phone so... this will be.... interesting.)

"My nephew tells me that I should ask you to leave a message. He says he will show me where to find that message once I have one. So please, leave a message."

Comments

[rediscovering]

Zuko nods, closing his eyes to hide the fact that they're growing wet with tears he's barely willing not to fall. His voice is hoarse with emotion when he speaks, taking a second to swallow the lump in his throat and pretend to compose himself before he tries to say anything.

"...Tomorrow, Uncle. I'm tired. I want to stay here tonight." Like that wasn't already obvious with his duffle bag and general disposition. "...Maybe for a few nights, actually."

He's overwhelmingly thankful his uncle is here for this. That hand on his shoulder carries the weight of the world to him right now in exactly the way he needs. Gokudera had helped him prior to meeting Azula earlier that night, but after having actually confronted Azula now, the only person in the world who could comfort him, he felt, was standing here in front of him, making plans of his own.

Sorry I lack a good icon for this.

[uncle_iroh]

He nodded, then kissed his nephew lightly on the cheek. He would have gone for the top of the head, but hight differences are a thing.

"Tomorrow then. But Zuko, know this. No matter what happens, whatever you learn or chose to do... you are not in this alone."

it's cuuuute it's good~

[rediscovering]

"...Yeah. But Azula is," he mumbles, throwing his gaze aside. The show of affection is finally enough to calm him, though, and at long last he takes a seat on the couch, collapsing more than sitting, looking forlorn. He's not too tired to talk... just to tired to talk to the Avatar.

Re: it's cuuuute it's good~

[uncle_iroh]

"She has made her own choices. There is only so much that we can shield her from that, and less that we should. It is fine line to walk, Prince Zuko. Protect someone too little and they could be badly hurt or die, they could break, they could change as a response to that pain in ways that they can never recover from. Protect someone too much and they never learn or grow, they never change at all. Everyone who tries to protect anyone ever will make mistakes sometimes, Zuko." He certainly had. "But that too is something we learn from."

[rediscovering]

Zuko's quiet for a long moment, trying to process those words with all the new information and new perspectives he'd been given today, from Aang, from Gokudera, from Azula, from Iroh... all the people he turns to for new information and new perspectives. Just. Not usually all at once. He's overwhelmed.

"...No one protected Azula from Father," he says decisively, after his ruminative pause, not meeting Iroh's eye. "Mother left to protect me. But for Azula, she just left." He pauses once more, then turns his gaze to Iroh at last, something painful in it, the same vague and painful something tugging at the tone of his voice.

"...I know the whole story now. Do you want to know what really happened?"

[uncle_iroh]

"Do not think that no one has tried. But Azula would no more be protected then you would be persuaded away from what you thought you had to do," he said gently.

"But yes, we can sit together with tea while you tell me."

[rediscovering]

Zuko nods, taking a moment to collect his thoughts before reaching for one of the teacups Iroh had sat down on the table. He sips it quietly with lowered lashes at first, not sure where to start. It was all so much. But he figures the best place to start… is the beginning. Even though he knows Iroh already likely knows much of the situation, or had guessed as much, it’s all news to Zuko, and worth reconstructing out loud now that he’s had time to process. He sighs before beginning, gaze fixed on the floor between his feet as he speaks.

“…The day we received the letter announcing Cousin Lu-Ten’s death, Father arranged an audience for all of us together with Grandfather Azulon. After Grandfather dismissed us to speak to Father privately, Azula and I hid behind the curtain in the throne room to eavesdrop…” He pauses, worrying his lip. He was only eleven; Azula was only nine. But he hates to bring up Lu-Ten or Ozai’s betrayal this way. Yet at the same time… it’s crucial context.

“Father begged Grandfather to revoke your birthright because you no longer had a bloodline as the firstborn without your family. But Grandfather was furious, Uncle, it was scary… I ran away, so I didn’t hear this myself, but, um— Azula stayed. And told me what she heard later. Grandfather punished Father for daring to suggest such betrayal when you were in such pain — by the same price you paid. The life of his firstborn son. I thought Azula was just messing with me back then and lying like she always did, but now I know it was true… And, um—“

He glances up at Iroh but then quickly away again, feeling highly uncomfortable relaying the poor old man’s role in the context of all this as it all becomes more concrete as he hears himself recap everything aloud. It’s truly awful. His face is gradually awash with more and more emotion, especially after his short pause to really realize the story he’s telling here, in regards to Iroh himself. A painstricken look. Uncomfortable. But empathetic still.

“…Mother overheard us talking about it. And, uh— took Azula away to find out more, I guess. Um— But …Azula wasn’t lying about Grandfather telling Father to kill me. And, um—“

He stops short, eyes darting the other way again. He can’t continue; he’s hitching here. But he knows he needs to reveal this to Iroh. But how can he? He’s talking about Iroh’s father… Azulon may not have been as loving as Ursa, but he was certainly not as hateful as Ozai. What’s more, will this change Iroh’s feelings toward Ursa, whom the man had always known to be doting of his nephew, a shared interest in the prince’s well-being and protection from Ozai — will this change Iroh’s feelings toward Zuko, he worries? He looks as frazzled as he feels.

I had to reup the paid for this thread...

[uncle_iroh]

This.... This was painful to hear. And as Much as Iroh could usually push his own pain aside to put on the face that Zuko needed to see...

This was perhaps the hardest it has ever been. And he did not succeed. At least, not fully. He sat and listened, head bowed, hands closed together pressed between his knees. Parts of this he had known, but in truth... not much. Between how destroyed he had been when he arrived home and the questionable verisimilitude of the sources he hadn't focused much on it at the time.

He wished he could be surprised that his brother had tried something like that at that time, in that way. But the truth was, given how things played out, he could not. Of course at the time, he hadn't cared. He hadn't wanted to be Fire Lord. He had just come face to face with the reality of their so-called attempts to unite and civilize the world. Instead of observing and learning from the wall at Ba Sing Se, he had been sending innocent youths to die against it.

He had been questioning everything. But even now, even after everything that happened... Some part of him had wanted to believe there was some part of the brother he had loved left in the man his brother had become.

But in some ways he had come to expect by this point, here and now, the cruelty of his brother's single focused fixation with power.

But to hear what his father had ordered. That... That was new to him. And freshly painful because it was new. How could his father have thought that he would be what he would have wanted?

No... it had never been about what Iroh would have wanted. It wasn't about making Iroh feel justice had been done. It had been about power. About having a son who dared to question his judgment. His choice. It had never been about Lu-Ten or Iroh.

Iroh had long since lost any belief that his father had been a just or good man. But this...

Zuko was like a second son to Iroh now, and even before Iroh had always loved the boy. But even if he had not. Even if all love was removed from the equation - and clearly for Iroh's father and brother it had been - for a man to order his own grandson killed... to punish the boy's father for the father speaking out of turn....

For a leader to do it especially. But then he had long since understood that neither his brother nor his father ever truly understood what it took to be a real leader.

His shoulders shook as he listened, as it all washed over him. At the disgusted moment when he realized that what his brother had done to Zuko for talking out of turn was - in comparison - kind. It disgusted him.

The casual reminder within all of this that Azula would have lied about something like this just for the sake of amusement.

If not for Zuko... Iroh would think there was no good in the family at all. He knew it was not within him, himself. But Zuko was proof that there was at least something in their line worth loving and caring for. He was the hope for their family.

More than being a Fire Lord to a broken Fire Nation shattered by generations of unjust war... being the good in such a family was the heaviest weight to bear. And all Iroh could do was to do his best to help give Zuko strength.

He realized that Zuko had stopped speaking. Was waiting. Probably for him to reply. But for once no words came. He had none to offer. No wisdom, no comfort. Nothing. He knew that clearly Zuko had not died. That his own father had. That Zuko's mother was gone, but now knew she was not dead. He knew he had been pushed aside from the throne. But he didn't know what connected all of that, what happened next.

He wasn't sure that he wanted to know. But he knew that Zuko needed to tell him. Needed him to be strong enough to hear it.

But he wasn't sure he was. His nephew was all he had left, all the purpose left to his life. Being strong for Zuko. And he didn't know if he was equal to the task.

He knew tears were falling from his eyes. He knew Zuko needed him to be strong so her could listen and give Zuko the support he needed, the comfort, the strength to go forward. He had told himself once, that he would do whatever Zuko needed him to do, to be whatever Zuko needed him to be. Many times since he had feared that he had failed. But Zuko had always come through on the other end, had always survived. But now... Now he knew he was failing. He could even see how to not fail. All he had to do was nod, tell Zuko he was listening and then listen. He just had to come up with the right thing to say.

All that time he spent in a Fire Nation cell pretending to be crazy, pretending to be a fat old slob who was washed up and weak and pathetic, he thought... had had thought after that he could convince anyone of anything. He was wrong.

He couldn't find the words to comfort his boy. To help him. He couldn't find the strength to be what Zuko needed. He couldn't manage to do anything but sit beside the boy, too locked in his own pain to be of any help.

So. He was to be, in the end, as selfish and self centered as his brother then. And like everyone else in their family, he too was to fail Zuko.

He had failed Lu-Ten.

He had clearly failed Azula.

What had made him think that he could be strong enough to not fail Zuko?

hooooooooooo, heavy breathing reading that tag, pure artfulness holy shit this thread

[rediscovering]

If Zuko only knew that there was any part of Iroh sitting there thinking he'd failed Zuko somehow in all this, he'd be jumping up from his seat to hug the man and vehemently deny such a thing. But all he can see is Iroh's quiet tears, and only barely, because he's looking for them when he's brave enough to look up. The sight draws out his silence even further. His eyes linger on his uncle for a moment, conflict knotting his brow. Should he continue? How important is it really, that Iroh know this? Is this just Zuko selfishly torturing an old man who'd already known so much loss and betrayal, rubbing his nose in it, just because Zuko's feeling some vaguer sense of loss and betrayal and wants comfort? Is he just doing this on principle? No... The principle is that Zuko would have wanted to know the truth about Ursa, even if it hurt, even though it does hurt, he'd rather know this now, and he was upset that Azula didn't prioritize his need to know. So by that token, Iroh should know the full truth, too. The whole picture is always preferable, right? But then again... Zuko's not yet seventeen, what does he know about 'the whole picture.'

He worries his bottom lip, eyes casting aside again as if searching for his next words strewn about the room. Iroh's a smart man. Zuko needn't put it bluntly. He'll spell it out, but even so, he's not sure he can bring himself to put it bluntly... He can't even bring himself to make eye contact just to dance around it. He feels a guilt in all this, even though he knows he shouldn't. He feels a guilt for existing — he was told as a child that he was lucky to ever be born, told off-the-cuff in a discussion about being bad at schoolwork that his father had wanted to kill him even as a baby. Iroh probably hadn't heard that story, either... Why would he have? That was just a casual moment between father and son, a typical day in the home with Ozai. Zuko can feel a lump growing in his throat as he deliberates, but swallows it when he gathers the nerve to continue.

"...On the Day of Black Sun, I spoke with Father. During the eclipse. And he— ...he said something that Azula confirmed tonight... that, um—" He stops short again and takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. "...Father told me that Mom proposed 'vicious, treasonous things' that day, for which she was banished. He didn't know if she was alive or not when I asked, but he told me that she begged him to spare my life and swore to protect me... 'at any cost.'" He remembers his father's words clearly, and finally glances back to Iroh, fixing his gaze on him at long last, face wrought with emotion anew at the sight of him again. His voice trembles a bit, feeling the need to add on... something. Empathy. Guilt. Condolences. Any number of feelings for this sordid mess of a family of theirs.

"...I-I'm sorry, Uncle."

Short but....

[uncle_iroh]

His eyes closed as Zuko spoke again. Knowing the people involved, he could almost picture the scene. And if it wasn't exactly how it played out, it was how it would last in his memory for the time being. And he could guess what the treason was, what the cost had been... because he knew what he had come home to. He had come home without his son, to the ruins of what remained of his family.

And then Zuko apologized. Iroh opened his eyes and looked at his nephew, through his tears. "In all of this, Zuko, you are the one who owes no apologies," he said gravely. "It is we who have failed you."

[rediscovering]

Zuko's wrought with empathy for Iroh, gazing at the man with a pained expression. All day, he'd been thinking about himself, his mom, his relationship with Ursa, his loss. Then realized, in all this, poor Azula was the one who lost more and gained less, in the end... ...and after finishing those mental gymnastics, he's here now at first once more selfishly for comfort from Iroh about such an epiphany, only to realize Iroh is the one who's lost the most and gained the least. This whole day has just been devoted to violent flips of perspective, centered around his most tender pain... yet his reason for being, apparently. He feels ashamed. He can't help it. It's all about him — but not at all about him.

"No, Uncle— you haven't failed me. I should have told you what I knew sooner, but I didn't know for certain... A-And— I think I didn't want to know, because I just thought Mother was dead, that Father was just goading me on that day in the bunker. But—" he hesitates once more, glancing aside but quickly returning his eye contact with new resolve. "There's more to the story. Mother's alive. The Avatar, his friends, Azula and I all found her together — in the future. She has a new life. A new husband with a new daughter — and a new face, with no memories of her life with us, granted by some Spirit, Azula said. I guess she couldn't live with her actions... I— I don't know what to think about that."

It definitely sours his opinion of Ursa, who'd been infallible before her leaving, his sole protector in the face of his father's abuse, in a life that was back then much, much smaller than his life now, and in fact rather centric around his mother. But he'd been told this in the context of her leaving Azula — he's alive and maybe not well, but he's alive. Azula's just alone. Ursa left Iroh fatherless and without his son, herself childless, and both her children motherless, just to keep Zuko alive. Gratitude isn't the first feeling that bubbles up inside the prince now tonight, though. It all tastes bitter.

[uncle_iroh]

"When you are unsure, sometimes it is kinder to wait and to learn before you speak," he said softly. He was trying. Zuko needed him, and he was trying so very hard to be what Zuko needed. His own losses were not new. He was learning about them now, but they had happened long ago; and he needed to remember that.

What Zuko was facing wasn't just new, it was waiting in their future. If Zuko was right and they would not recall this... his nephew would have to face this pain twice.

"The spirits can be both kind and cruel in the same action. If we do not know the choices that laid the exact path, we know at least their heart. Your mother wished to save you."

He is trying. He is trying his hardest, to put his own pain aside for the moment. When Zuko is resting... he can mourn then.

[rediscovering]

Zuko nods, his face stern in thought, taking his uncle’s words of wisdom with some amount of guilt as much as appreciation. Iroh isn’t like a wisdom coin machine; put in information, get advice out. He feels bad like he’s taking advantage of the old man’s constant wish to comfort his nephew, delivering such information he feels so guilty for even though he’s faultless, as a child; it’s only Ozai who’s to be truly resented here. But because of Azula’s reaction… Zuko doesn’t think Ursa has come out looking so hot, herself. But what would be the alternative? Zuko’d be dead. How can he make any other argument not in his mother’s favor?

But Iroh is hurting as much as Zuko is, hearing all this, or at least in his own realm of pain. It’s alarming for everyone involved. Aang revealed something severe, something multi-tiered, more than the Avatar maybe even knew. Zuko had never told them about how he was banished or how he got his scar or all his family’s sordid personal history; it was always focused on their sordid international history, which the rest of the Gaang were already well aware of. He’d have a lot to sit down and talk to the Avatar about. It might be best to take a couple days off at Iroh’s flat to process things, sit with his thoughts. He’d been given only fair points by everyone, even Azula’s, and there was much to consider in what he was meant to do with this information now… There wasn’t much to do. But think. And adjust his lens. Perhaps that was all. But to what end?

He takes another glance at his uncle, sitting there wrought by emotion, and without a word in response to the good advice Iroh had offered, Zuko just gets up from his seat to walk over to Iroh’s chair and wraps his arms around the man’s shoulders, standing there beside him in the embrace. He could do at least that much to comfort his uncle, turn the tables a little. It’s funny, how much more physical he’s become in Avalon than in the touch-based Lunatia, ironically. But emotional openness and emotional need happen when they happen. He takes a moment of silence just to hug him loosely, but keeps his hand pressed to Iroh’s shoulder as he stands to speak.

“…I talked to Gokudera about it all before I talked to Azula. He pointed out the same thing, kind of — but about Azula keeping this from me. That I need to consider the path that leads people to their choices and examine their motivations from another angle, to listen and ask questions… That goes for Azula and Mom. I just have to think about it more, I guess. He told me to keep in mind I’m not going to get closure from this. And to be open… and fair.”

Although Gokudera and Iroh have quite different reactions to Azula, these are all points that surely the two forces of comfort and wisdom in Zuko’s life can agree on. Wait and listen. Wait and learn.

[uncle_iroh]

"Fair is a difficult road to walk, all the more-so when so much emotion is involved," he said softly. And yes, he was falling back on his role as wisdom coin machine, as Zuko put it, to keep himself together until Zuko was asleep.

And yes, of course he returned the hug.

"But if you are going to be a good Fire Lord, the kind we need but have not seen in a hundred years, fair is something you will need practice at. But remember, fairness needs to be tempered with compassion. You do not make a blade just by striking metal, you also need warmth."

[rediscovering]

"So... that means I should forgive Azula?"

Is that the takeaway there?! He keeps his hand on Iroh's shoulder, a thoughtful look on his face, softening a bit at last.

[uncle_iroh]

"That is not what I said, Zuko. But what I say is up to me, I can no more change what you hear than you can change what I say." Wait, did that even make sense? No. No it did not. He was... not doing well, right now.

"You need to first figure out how you feel, and only then decide what you should do."

There, that was better. Right?

[rediscovering]

It made sense to Zuko, who's clearly already inclined toward forgiveness, but indeed, needs time to sort it out. So he just nods, and pats his uncle on the back affectionately. Hey, for Zuko, that's a lot. He can only give so many hugs.

"Thank you, Uncle. I'm sorry. But thank you."

He meets Iroh's gaze with an earnest expression, the sincerity at least clear in his voice. Zuko can take a ball and run with it. But he's quite conscious by this point that in all this sordidness... Iroh's hurting, too. And for once, he wants to be there for his uncle, too, even as Iroh's trying so hard to be there for him.

Okay, okay, maybe one more hug. He's a lot more physical than he once was after half a year on a touch-based planet, okay — and he loves his uncle!

[uncle_iroh]

He returned the offered hug, gripping tightly. "You did nothing to be sorry for in this, Zuko," he said, his voice muffled by his nephew's shoulder. "There is nothing in this that is your fault."

[rediscovering]

"I know, but— ...it still happened because of me. And— I hate to see you hurting, Uncle."

It wasn't their typical dynamic and Zuko wasn't sure how to act exactly because of that. But how much Iroh is still trying to be of comfort to Zuko in this, how clear it is that that's his priority even with such news, Zuko can't help but feel moved and extra cognizant of his role as the bearer of bad news here. He may not be at fault, but he can recognize his role here and still empathize all the same. And saying it out loud is a big show of progress for him, too, in his time spent away from home. He wants to be there for Iroh for once, let the tables turn in this, and so he deliberately doesn't release the hug until the old man does.

[uncle_iroh]

He shook his head. "It happened because of my father and because of your father, Zuko. If someone pushes a child who cannot swim into a lake, and someone else dies to save the child, it is not the child's fault. Fault, like responsibility, comes with power. With agency. Your father and my father had power, the fault lies with them. What you can do now, Zuko," he said, he voice rougher than usual as he tried to hold in his own hurt, to push it aside for later, "is learn from this. Do not be the man they chose to be. See the pain that caused, and do not cause that pain in others. It is in you, Zuko, to be a great man. In a way they never could be."