My (sad) headcanon for why Iroh didn't give Azula as much attention or grace as he did to Zuko, in the form of a little 300-word snippet:
“Do you know what made me such a great general?” Iroh asked, lazily rotating the Pai Sho tile as if they were sitting in a tea shop instead of a not-quite-cell. As if the nice plush couch made this just a noblewoman’s sitting room and not a hospital room. As if...
Azula didn’t deign to respond. If the old coot wanted to make a point, she was damned if she was going to do his legwork.
“I always knew where every piece fit,” Iroh said, staring across the years. “I knew where each man would go, so that he could do the most he could do. I knew which unit would break in which situation and which would hold. I always knew.
“Like the day we began our final attack on Ba Sing Se’s outer wall.”
Iroh’s voice broke, a harsh inhale, tears barely held back.
“I knew Lu Ten had to lead the left flank. I knew that Lu Ten would give anything to take that battlement. And I knew that another commander wouldn’t, and then the center would crumple and with it, our chance to take the wall. And I knew!"
"I knew that I was sending him to die. I told myself that he would survive. But I knew.”
Iroh turned his eyes, the familiar gold, to Azula.
“Why am I telling you this, you wonder. Why should you care?” Iroh laughed, cold and mirthless. “Well, if you ever wondered why I gave so much of my time and love to Zuko, and so little to you… it’s because in Zuko, I saw Lu Ten again. A dutiful, stubborn, brave son being used by his horrible father.”
The worst part was, Azula thought in some distant, far-away part of herself, the worst part was that the tears spilling from the corner of Iroh’s eyes almost seemed real.
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