A/N: In Zuko Alone, Zuko stayed with a farm family that raised pigsheep. I decided the meat from those creatures should be called porkmutton. I have also decided that the Avatar world has ordinary geese. This decision is based on the scene where they entered the fortuneteller's town, which showed perfectly ordinary waterfowl quacking at them. I admittedly don't know if those are ducks or geese, but duck hybrids (such as turtleducks) are already a thing so geese it is.

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Sokka was wrong. The stop had worked wonders. Iroh shared his haikus with Zuko, who was appreciative for once. He commented on the poems in ways that suggested he was actually thinking about them.

Katara questioned herself, as she had been doing ever since the surprising conversation the day before. Was she right to think so badly of him? Or was she completely misinterpreting everything, her vision narrowed to the point of blindness by her stubborn refusal to trust a firebender?

She kept an eye on Zuko, watching for clues. Was she right? Was she wrong?

After the haiku discussion, he rubbed his ribs and grimaced. Then he looked up at the clouds. Then he looked in Aang's direction, and kept looking there. He started to shuffle.

"What is it?" Katara asked.

He shot her a glare. "Nothing." He settled back against the side of the saddle. If he asked the Avatar whether spirits ever showed up to talk to him and demand attention, he might get an interesting answer. But it would also be a giant clue that he, Zuko, did have spirits showing up to talk to him, and that was something he wanted to keep secret at all costs.

A glare, a refusal to tell her anything, and settling into sullen silence. All were completely normal things for Zuko. Katara's first thought was that he was hiding something, yet again. Her second thought was that that was just how he was, a big angry jerk. Her third thought, inspired by recent events, was that he might have been about to talk to Aang and she had stopped him.

The third thought was like a bucket of ice water. It cast doubt on her first two thoughts, made them seem like the kneejerk reflexes of a paranoiac. She was ashamed to have immediately jumped to the worst conclusion. And why was she stopping him from opening himself up to people? Aang was right. That didn't make sense.

Katara was very ashamed. And the worst part was that she couldn't figure out exactly why. Zuko really did seem untrustworthy… Didn't he?

.

No matter how he tried to look at it, Sokka could not figure out how being stepped on by a baby platypus bear could be considered fun. Yeah, it was nice to make new friends, and being fed sure didn't hurt, but fun? When he thought of fun, he thought of sitting around a nice fire telling jokes, laughing, playing games. Snowball fights. Those were fun. He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised. Firebenders were twisted people. Why would a firebender have a normal sense of fun?

That only made it more important that he find a way to instill a proper sense of humor. He was not going to put up with whatever a firebender considered funny. If Angry Jerk could learn to put up with sea prunes, he could learn to tell the occasional pun.

"If we meet any earthbenders," Sokka advised, "you could try complimenting them on their stony gaze. Or maybe their rock-hard muscles. Or… Point it out if they're fighting dirty."

Zuko's fist clenched. "Those aren't jokes. They're not funny at all. They're just terrible."

"The worse the better when it comes to puns."

"No."

"Maybe puns aren't your thing," Sokka graciously allowed. "Let's try sarcasm!"

"I don't want to tell jokes!" Zuko snapped.

"Let me guess: you want to sit around in silence all day." Zuko nodded. "No way. You can sit around and brood as much as you want when you're alone, but I am sick and tired of you forcing us to stop having fun! If you want to ride with us, you have to tell at least one joke a day."

Zuko snarled. "Are you kidding me?!" He raised a clenched fist partway before forcing it down.

"At least." Sokka knew he was setting the bar high. That was fine. As long as the world's grumpiest firebender could at least try to meet it, he would be significantly more fun.

All trace of the easygoing Zuko who smiled at the thought of being stepped on by a baby platypus bear was gone. He crossed his arms tight enough that it must have been painful and fixed his most stubborn glower on his face. "I am never going to make an idiot of myself the way you do. I have dignity."

Sokka's eye twitched. He was aware that he wasn't thought of as the smart one. That didn't mean he wasn't, and it didn't mean he had given up his own dignity. This fiery jerk was going to learn the difference between being funny and being stupid, or else.

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In appreciation of the hard work Appa had put in for the past two days, Aang landed early. It was late afternoon, and golden light still illuminated the grass. Everybody got off and walked the rest of the way to the little Earth Kingdom village they were going to spend the night at. The road was solidly packed and marked with the tracks of ostrich horses and larger, heavier beasts. The village had a sturdy wall around it, and some people in armor to serve as guards. "Halt!" one of them called.

Aang waved. "Hello! I'm the Avatar. I would like to stay here for tonight, if we could just get past you and find an inn." He peered around one of the guards. The man reflexively moved his spear to block him.

The guards looked at each other. Finally, the one on the right gave a single nod. "We'll have to check your bags." He stepped forward to do just that.

Aang threw his hands out. "Woah, woah, woah. Why do you have to go through our stuff? That's an invasion of privacy!" Sokka and Katara agreed.

The left guard held up a hand. "It's just a precaution. As you can see, this village is one of the Earth Kingdom's trading hubs. If the Fire Nation were to come here, trade across the eastern and northern regions of the Earth Kingdom would be crippled. We have to be cautious."

"I'm the Avatar," Aang said. "Why would I do anything to help the Fire Nation?"

"This is an unusual circumstance," the left guard admitted. They were visibly confused about how to do their job. "I...suppose we could just let you pass."

The right guard made a hand sign. "Do you see the line behind them?" he whispered. "Not a good idea."

The left guard got the hint. He thumped his spear into the dirt and raised his voice slightly to declare, "But letting anyone who claims to be the Avatar pass without a search would be unfair and an example of favoritism. Guards, search the bison for proof that he really is the Avatar."

Two guards passed Aang without a second's hesitation. They pushed Katara and Sokka aside and took the packs down from Appa's saddle. "Wait! I can just give you -" Aang tried to interrupt. One of the guards held up the waterbending scroll. "- proof."

"A waterbending scroll," the guard announced.

"Could be stolen," the second one said. They continued searching. The second guard held up a coin pouch. "A sizable amount of money."

The first guard found a Wanted poster. He held it up next to Aang's face. "An exact match."

The main guards both inspected the poster. "It is," they declared. "You may pass. Be sure to spend that money in our shops."

Aang, Sokka, and Katara gave the guards their flattest stares. "Thanks," Aang muttered. The left guard smiled apologetically.

"Is that normal?" Zuko asked once they were inside the walls.

"No, but it happens more often than you'd think," Sokka said. "Sometimes we have to disguise ourselves. Can you believe that? The whole Earth Kingdom is so afraid of firebenders that the Avatar himself can't travel freely."

"It shouldn't be," Katara said. "He has to travel among the Four Nations. That's part of what it means to be the Avatar." She shook her head. "I'm sure once we defeat the Firelord, everything will go back to the way it should be."

Aang remembered Iroh's landscape advice. This was definitely dangerous territory. It would be a good idea to get out. He scrambled to think of a diversion. "What do you guys want to buy?"

"A really nice meal," Sokka said.

"Some more ingredients for my lotions. I'm almost out," Katara said.

"I wonder what teas can be found here…" Iroh looked around, a predator on the hunt.

"What about you?" Aang asked Zuko.

Zuko shrugged. "I don't really need anything."

Everybody looked at him. "How can you say that?" Iroh asked. "Literally. How? You of all people aren't used to going without."

Zuko stared at his uncle with a very similar stare to the one he had used to silently lecture Aang. Aang was startled to realize that he was developing the ability to tell different kinds of stares apart. "Nothing that I want is for sale here," Zuko replied.

"You'd be surprised," Iroh said. "Remember that the knife you carry was made in the Earth Kingdom."

"It comes from Ba Sing Se," Zuko retorted. "Not this little dump."

A small man with round cheeks and a long, pointed goatee appeared at Zuko's elbow as if by magic. "Did someone say Ba Sing Se? I sell things from there, and everywhere else. Whatever you want, I have it!"

Zuko opened his mouth to protest. Iroh pressed a money pouch into his hand. "My nephew would love to see what you have for sale!" he told the man. "When he's done, I'll take a look!"

Zuko sighed. "Fine." He took the money and left, following the strange man through the crowded streets. Iroh smiled.

"Why did you do that?" Aang asked.

"I meant exactly what I said," Iroh said. "It's unnatural for him to go without. He deserves nice things."

Aang didn't understand. Nobody should have to go without, but if Zuko didn't want anything, why make him get things? Why not just let him sit around with no possessions other than what he carried? If that was what he wanted, what was wrong? "But he said he doesn't want anything."

"No," Iroh said. "He said he doesn't think what he wants is available. I'm not forcing him to buy things he doesn't want. I'm forcing him to reach out, to take a chance."

"On buying stuff?"

"In general."

Aang didn't quite understand, but he understood enough to link it to things his airbending teachers had done for him. If they had done it, and Iroh did it, it must be wise. If Aang could just figure out when and where to push people to open up, he would be one step closer to joining the ranks of the masters. He memorized everything Iroh had just said.

They split up. Iroh and Katara went in search of tea and lotion supplies, Aang took Momo to get a new brush, and Sokka looked for a place to have dinner. Between all of them, the coin pouch was indeed substantially lighter at the end of the day. The guard would have been happy.

Sokka showed them the place he found. "It has an all you can eat buffet! It has steaks, and roast goose, and porkmutton slabs drowning in sauce…" He drooled. "It's everything I've ever dreamed of!"

Momo poked his head out of the bag Aang held. He sat nestled among jars of lotion supplies, tins of tea leaves, and a couple different kinds of brush. Aang shifted the heavy bag to his other shoulder. "That sounds great, Sokka! You really have a good nose for restaurants."

"Is anything other than meat on the menu?" Iroh asked.

"Who cares, Uncle?" Zuko readjusted his grip on their new clothes. He held them in both of his arms, folded just messily enough to make it unclear exactly how much space they were supposed to take up. He refused to let anybody else touch the clothes. "Some meat would be good after those vegetarian wraps."

They went inside and sat at a table meant for four. Sokka ordered what sounded like half the menu. While he did that, Zuko carefully placed the clothes inside the new pack he had also gotten. Very carefully. Katara's eyes narrowed.

Some of the simpler dishes arrived quickly. Aang took a deep inhale. "Smells great! Let's eat!" He and Sokka dug in at a furious pace.

Katara turned away. "Ugh. I wish there was another girl here." She made do with Iroh, who was also eating quietly and decorously. Zuko ate half his bowl and let Momo have the rest.

When the meat arrived, though, he claimed the largest piece with imperial dignity, as if it had been specially reserved for him. Sokka's complaints received no reply other than a blank stare that conveyed the message that he should know better. Momo received the same look in advance. He lowered his ears and crept off to Aang's side of the table.

An hour and a half later, they had all forgotten what hunger even was. "Mmm," Sokka moaned. "My belly hurts. It feels so good."

Zuko breathed shallowly. He was a little pale. "Are you okay?" Aang asked. "You look sick."

Zuko looked towards Sokka. "You don't know the meaning of the word bellyache until you've had a baby platypus bear step all over you." He winced after saying that.

Iroh drank deeply from his cup of tea. He was the only one not in visible discomfort from how much he had eaten. "What a wonderful meal!"

Sokka stretched and yawned. "All we need is some good storytelling, and it'll be perfect."

"Not here," Katara said. "I believe you volunteered to pay."

"I'm very generous," Sokka said proudly. Then he saw the bill. "What?! Who wants to split with me? This is too much for one man to pay alone."

A cricket chirped nearby.

Sokka whimpered at the sight of the last few copper pieces left in his pouch afterwards. "Not even enough for dessert…"

"No dessert!"

.

Zuko hoped they would forget it. But they didn't. Once ensconced at the inn, Sokka repeated his desire for storytelling. "Dinner isn't dinner without a story."

The Avatar's eyes widened. He looked at Iroh. He drew himself up, and sat proudly, and said, "What kinds of stories do you have, Zuko?"

Iroh stopped, put down his tea, and looked sideways. Zuko sat still. "None." He was looking away, so Iroh silently shook his head and crossed his throat.

The Avatar's confidence wilted. "You must have some. Everybody has a story."

"Not me."

"Um…" The Avatar struggled to back up from his mistake. He mumbled, "I guess somebody else could -"

If I don't do this now, I never will! "Sokka," Zuko snapped. "Stop trying to make me tell jokes."

"You haven't given them a chance," Sokka replied. "Come on, try it. Just one pun. It can be your one for today."

Zuko took a deep breath. "I've given some thought to what you said this morning."

"Then why are you still being a stick in the mud?"

Zuko snorted fire. "Because," he said in a growl, "puns aren't my kind of humor."

That caught everybody's attention. Katara's mouth dropped open. "You've thought about your humor style?"

"Yes." Zuko composed himself. This is humiliating. A prince is not supposed to crack jokes. I'm not any good at it, either, so I'll bomb. I have to be very dignified. So dignified that nobody dares laugh at me. He put a deadly serious look on his face.

"What's your kind of humor?" Sokka asked.

"The kind where you tell it with a completely straight face."

Sokka's jaw dropped. "Deadpan?" He buried his face in his hands. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"What kind of jokes do you tell with a straight face?" the Avatar asked. He was genuinely unfamiliar with the concept.

Sokka recomposed himself. "Show him," he told Zuko. "Let's see what you've got!"

Oh no. No. He wants me to tell a joke on command? Zuko didn't feel able to do it. The very idea made him nearly blush. If I don't, they'll keep hounding me. I can't spend another day with Sokka pestering me. If I tell one joke, maybe they'll leave me alone. He took a deep breath and looked around for inspiration.

The Avatar looked at him expectantly. His bald head shone faintly in the candlelight. Zuko was reminded of something he had learned about shorebirds once, where they would pick up turtles and drop them onto rocks. He fixed one of his typical glares on his face. "Be careful, Avatar," he warned. "Seagulls might like you too much."

That earned a startled laugh from nearly everyone present. Sokka laughed himself hoarse. "That was great! Your delivery was perfect. Do one about me!"

Zuko was very reluctant to tell another joke. I am not a comedian. Other people might tell jokes. He was not like other people. It was wrong for him to make jokes. Yet… Nobody treated him as if it was wrong. They laughed. It seemed like they really appreciated it. Nobody was laughing at him or looking at him with pity because he was a fool embarrassing himself with his foolishness. "Come on," Sokka said. "One time opportunity. I'm leaving myself wide open here." He calls me humorless and dull. But now he thinks I'm funny? That my joke was any good?

Maybe Zuko could bring himself to tell one more joke.

He studied Sokka for inspiration. The hairstyle was out - it was too similar to the ponytail he'd used to have. The clothing was out - it was traditional, not an example of personal taste. Sokka didn't have any distinctive physical features otherwise. What was there to joke about? He scrambled to think of something Sokka had said or done that could be joked about. Earthbenders? That seemed to hold promise, but it was hard to exploit that promise on the spot. He began to sweat. He was trying, really trying, and he couldn't think of anything? That was the least acceptable reason for being thought a bore that he could imagine. It couldn't be true. But the faster his heart beat, the harder it was to think of something to joke about.

Sokka sighed. "Or not." He lowered his arms. "One joke a day is enough. You've learned much about the ways of humor, my fiery student."

Zuko twitched. That was insulting! Inspiration finally appeared in his mind. "Sokka," he said. "I'm sorry to say this. It's not your fault. It's not you, it's me. I just have to let you know that I really, really can't get along with someone who compliments another man's muscles. I hope you understand."

Katara snorted, and the Avatar burst out laughing. Iroh did one of his deep belly laughs. The only one not laughing was Sokka, who raised a finger to object. But he didn't. He paused, and slowly, his face began to twitch. He started to giggle, then laugh. "That was good," he admitted when they were all done. "See? I told you you'd have audiences roaring with laughter in no time!"

An unfamiliar warm feeling appeared in Zuko's belly. He'd made an entire room full of people laugh when he intended to. He hadn't bombed. And still nobody was laughing at him. Even the target of the joke was happy.

He had never made an entire room full of people happy through his own efforts before.

"Can you do one about Katara?" Sokka asked.

Zuko's guts twisted. Katara. She was hard to joke about. If he failed, she would be offended. And, more importantly, he'd already told two successful jokes. His luck never held out that long. Better to quit while he was ahead. But… Somewhere deep inside, an impulse often felt but usually regretted told him to keep going, to push ahead until he had found the boundaries of his ability and never give up before then. How far could he go? That was a dangerous question. Ludicrously dangerous. It was dangerous to even ask. Asking it, trying, pushing, never worked out.

As if that ever stopped me. Zuko knew even as his guts twisted that his impulsive hotheaded nature would win. It often did.

Katara looked at him with wary eyes. Those eyes were good. He had to be careful, because she was watching, waiting for a chance to see evidence of his misdeeds and record them to put him on trial. Recording. "You are in desperate need of a bottle of ink," he observed.

The Avatar giggled. "That's funny because it doesn't make any sense!"

Sokka rubbed his chin as he watched his sister. "I don't know…"

"What would I need ink for?" Katara objected.

"No idea, but it seems fitting somehow."

"The best jokes are the ones that make you think," Iroh said. "Nephew! I had no idea you had such talent. Why have you avoided entertainment nights all these years?"

Zuko had never even thought about why he avoided things. He just avoided them. But now he did think about his own motives. Why would I? There was never a reason to. Nobody pestered me into telling jokes. Nobody was interested. It wouldn't have worked out. He answered his uncle with a shrug.

Sokka elbowed his sister. "So," he said. "Who is it that gets to say 'I told you so'?"

"You do," Katara mumbled.

"Yeah, I do! Never doubt the power of Sokka! The Sokk-master. The Man." Sokka did as much proud strutting as he could from a seated position.

Zuko grew increasingly uncomfortable. The unfamiliar warmth was still there. He hadn't bombed. He'd made them laugh, again. Uncle was proud. All of those were things that seemed like they should be good, but weren't. The pleasant warmth bothered him. Why did it feel good to make people laugh? It shouldn't. That wasn't part of what he did. It wasn't part of who he was. This night could never be anything other than a one-off incident, a strange violation of the normal rules that he would never mention again as long as he lived. It was that very thought that made him feel restless inside, uneasy, as if something was poking him in the side and he could not dislodge it.

He stayed silent for the rest of the night. When others began to yawn, he was only too happy to move in the general direction of bed. But when the candles were blown out and everybody else closed their eyes for sleep, he did not. He looked through the darkness in the general direction of his new pack. He envisioned it so clearly it was as if he could see it for real: the new mask he had purchased from the side of a cart. It seemed to call to him. The Blue Spirit never needed to worry about what could and could not be part of his life. Anything was possible.

Zuko listened to everyone else's breathing. When they all breathed slower and deeper, he pushed his blanket away and silently rose. He crept over to the new pack and unraveled the clothes within. He placed the mask over his face and strapped it on. There. He needed nothing else; he had no distinctive hairstyle to cover up this time. He could not be recognized as himself. He need fear no person.

The Blue Spirit crept out the window and up onto the roof. The moonlight illuminated the rooftops as nothing else did, sending both light and shadow spraying across the village. Though it was technically light, it made a great many things invisible, including a certain black-clothed blue-masked man. He sat on the rooftop in perfect safety watching the people below, feeling the wind blowing past him. The air moved around lazily, rolling this way and that, uncommitted to anything. The moon was neither full nor new, nor even crescent. It was also lazily being not quite anything. Zuko relaxed. In their company, it did not matter whether his life was or was not allowed to include nights like he had just experienced. He could be not quite anything too.