That night, they landed outside the fishing village and walked in. The village was perched above a broad coldwater lake and less than a day from the ocean. The villagers there had heard of the Avatar's return. When Aang asked if they had stables, a man said, "Right this way," with no trace of irritation at having to care for such a large animal. After putting together a soft bed for Appa and serving him dinner, the man turned to Aang and asked, "Is there anything else you need?"

"Just a place to stay for the night," Aang said. "And in the morning, we'll go shopping for coats. It's cold where we're going."

"Ah." The man looked relieved. "I hope you rest well in our inn, Avatar."

"Is something wrong?"

"No, no. Your presence here is an honor." The man glanced around. There was nobody nearby. He added quietly, "Although you are often accompanied by firebenders…"

Sokka stifled a snort. Aang shook his head. "Don't worry. I don't have anyone after me this time." The man smiled. He led them to the village's small single-story inn, where they checked in and went to their room. Sokka and Katara couldn't help but gasp. They darted forward and looked up, down, left and right, all over the room, not trusting their eyes.

"Pelts," Sokka said in disbelief.

"Harpoons," Katara said.

"It's -"

They both said, "Just like home!" at the same time. They looked at each other, then ran to examine the items. Sokka ran an expert finger along one of the harpoons. "Actually, this isn't one of ours," he said. "It's metal, not bone, and the weighting is different, and it doesn't have barbs."

"These pelts aren't like ours either," Katara said sadly. "They come from forest animals."

"But it looks just like the stuff Bato had," Aang said.

"That's because these people live the same way the Water Tribes do," Iroh said. "Similar challenges require similar tools."

"Wow," Sokka murmured. He looked around again. "I had no idea Earth Kingdom people could live like this."

Just like in Bato's room, there was a cooking pit in the center of the floor. Katara and Iroh worked there together, and soon delicious aromas filled the room. Sokka drooled, Aang held his hands out to the fire, and Momo rubbed his head against Katara's knee in the hopes of winning an extra large serving. The scene looked idyllic, but it was not. Out of the corner of her eye, Katara saw what seemed like a moving shadow. She glanced up at the door. It was gone. Her heart beat a little faster; was it just her imagination, or could the inn be haunted? She had heard nothing.

Then she realized Zuko wasn't there. It brought up all her old questions about how a prince could have the instincts of a fugitive. How could someone like him imitate a ghost? She pushed those questions away. Right now, getting answers was not important. The important thing was to not let him be right about her. She muttered something about asking for the location of somewhere where they could purchase clothing and slipped out the door after him. The hallway was empty and quiet. She tried to see from his perspective. Where would a prince imitating a ghost have gone?

She found an empty room with a large window, outside of which stood a barrel. She climbed onto the roof. Across the roof, Zuko was nearly invisible: just a dark shape surrounded by darkness. Katara crept close, stopping when she was a few feet away.

"I'm sorry I said all that in front of everyone," she said. "I'm not sorry I said it. I just wish I had waited until we were alone, so that you wouldn't feel pressured." I'm not going to try to manipulate you anymore, was what she tried to silently say. Saying it aloud wouldn't do anything. He wouldn't believe her.

The dark shape didn't move. She turned to go. "Did you mean it?" he asked.

She stayed where she was. "Yes. Every word."

Another pause. In the darkness, with their backs turned to each other, she listened for a sign that she should go. A quiet snort would be enough of a signal. She heard nothing. "I do not avoid responsibility," he said.

"I know."

"I am not like that."

"I know."

"I am not like them." He shuffled. "It's not me. You're not wrong, but you're not right either."

Not wrong. He had said that before. Did he mean… She was right to think there was an inconsiderate jerk in their party, but he wasn't that jerk? It was someone else?

"Who are you talking about?" she asked.

"Forget it," he muttered. "Someone I don't want to be like."

"Good luck," she said. "With not being like them." Hmm… It seemed like there was something more she could do here, something more she should say. What was it? Time was running out. "And fine, I'll forget it. For now."

"Good."

That hadn't quite achieved what her instincts told her she could have achieved, but time was up. She left the roof and went to ask the owner of the inn where they could buy clothes. Then she returned for dinner.

Iroh had already served it. Momo's bowl was empty and the lemur was wobbling from side to side, ready to fall over. Sokka's bowl was also empty. He stood up and stretched. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm not in the mood for two early bedtimes in a row. There has to be something fun to do around here."

"Let me eat first," Katara said. She ate quickly and told them where the local seamstress' house was. "I found Zuko while I was asking," she said, picking up the remaining bowl. "I'll take this to him."

"Tell him he can look after Momo while we're out," Aang said. Momo had fallen over and now slept draped over Aang's knee.

Katara refused to climb up onto a roof with a bowl of soup. She stood beneath the roof where Zuko sat and held up the bowl. "This is dinner. We're going out to look for something fun to do; you can lemursit while we're gone." She was trying to show that she could avoid being pushy and demanding, so though it seemed unnatural to her, she turned and put the bowl of soup at the base of a fencepost where he could see it and left. Her fists tightened. So she couldn't even ask him to do something as basic as come down to take his food from her? No, she told herself. This was not about that. He was clearly still uncomfortable with being around people, so she was looking after his comfort. Holding him accountable was not relevant.

Turned out Sokka was right. He insisted that they should go down to the lake. Nobody else knew what he expected to find there, but they followed. In the darkness they spied other shapes sneaking around. It was a group of local boys holding a diving contest. "We've been doing this for years," the oldest one of them said. "If you two think you can handle it, you're welcome to try. But, uh…"

"Nope," Katara said, turning and finding a good spot to watch from on the lakeshore. Iroh was already there.

They watched the boys lead two boats out onto the water and take turns leaping off. The yelps of pain were unmistakable. The water must have been barely above freezing. "What is it with boys and their dumb contests?" Katara asked. "I fail to see how freezing yourself to death makes anyone look manly."

"Young men need to learn what they're capable of," Iroh said. "When I was that age, I remember doing some tricks that could have gotten me expelled from my unit, just to see if I could get away with it. I remember wondering if I really had what it took to be an honorable soldier, or if I was just being pandered to as the crown prince. No man wants to be pandered to."

"How does freezing in a lake prove that you're not being pandered to?"

"Well, it shows that the other boys really do want you with them, that they don't think you're just a weight in the boat. That's one."

Katara listened to the shouts echoing over the water. The diving part was over; now the shouts were of joy, and there was laughter included. Iroh was right. It was a bonding experience, where the boys could tell each other over and over how completely qualified they were to join their fathers in the hunt. "Huh," she said. "I don't want to be patronized either, but I would never do something like this."

"Women have their own ways," Iroh said. "Presumably. I wouldn't actually know."

Katara thought about it as a new round of diving commenced. "I never had to prove I was qualified," she said. "I learned everything I know alongside my grandmother. When I was ready, she told me." A pause. "Although, I do have to prove my qualifications to certain men. It's like they don't believe me until I beat them. Why can't they just take my word for it?"

"Because that's not how men prove themselves," Iroh said, pointing out at the diving contest. "We have to find it out firsthand."

"So if another man says he can do it, you can assume he already passed the manhood contest and that means his word is good. But if a women says she can do it, her words are invalid because she didn't pass a contest?"

"When you put it like that…"

"That's the most sexist thing I've ever heard!" Katara crossed her arms in outrage. "Okay, not the most sexist, but easily in the top five."

There was another round of laughing and joyful shouting, and then the boys rowed back to shore. Aang and Sokka were both shivering. They put on their clothes in a hurry. "Those guys are tough," Aang said. "I can't believe they do this every winter."

"I think I'll stick with dodging a water spirit," Sokka said through chattering teeth.

"Have you had enough?" Katara asked. They nodded. As a group, they began the walk back to the inn. Katara waited decorously, then mentioned, "You know, girls don't need to hold contests to prove ourselves. When our teachers say we're ready, we're ready."

"Girls don't go out and risk their lives in life-or-death peril," Sokka retorted.

"You're right. We risk other people's lives in life-or-death peril. You don't think giving birth is dangerous?"

"How hard can it be?" Sokka actually asked. "Women do it all the time."

Katara whirled around. "You try creating a whole person and then shoving it out your lower end!" Sokka jumped back with a whimper. "Yeah, I thought so."

They reached the inn. When they entered their room, they found that the cooking fire had been given more fuel so that it lit the room. All five bowls were stacked near it. All of the sleeping bags and blankets were out and arranged around the room. Zuko was sleeping in a far corner with Momo on his chest.

Sokka checked his sleeping bag and found nothing wrong with it. "Whaddaya know, he's a decent guy."

"But only when nobody's looking," Katara murmured. That was another puzzle piece to add to her collection. As she washed the dishes and put the fire out, she wondered about it. As she fell asleep, she concluded that leaving the bowl for him had been the right thing to do after all.

.

Sokka's eyes flew open as the strangled scream filled the room. He sat up, heart pounding, wishing he hadn't packed his sword away as something scratched at the floor. The scratching stopped, and then there was the sound of heavy breathing. Sokka stopped shivering. That wasn't the heavy breathing of a monster. That was the heavy breathing of someone who'd nearly drowned. Now that he was no longer panicking, he realized the sounds came from Zuko's direction.

Much, much quieter sounds revealed footsteps heading toward the door, the door opening, closing. Aang snored and mumbled something unintelligible. How had he slept through that? "What was that?" Sokka whispered.

"A recurring nightmare," Iroh whispered back. "He's had it for the past several nights."

"What kind of nightmare is it?" Katara whispered.

"He won't tell me anything about it."

Sokka flomped back down into his sleeping bag. "I look forward to sleeping somewhere far away when we get to the Northern Water Tribe." He pulled his blankets tightly around himself and turned over. He meant every word he said.

But there were also some other things he meant that he didn't say. Aang had had nightmares too. Maybe he wasn't so wrong about Zuko. A lonely childhood spent making up stories about kindly dragons, nightmares, that look on his face during the battle… Sokka could understand wanting to help someone like that. He wondered if he should give it a try.

.

The next morning, it was time to go shopping!

Zuko rubbed his eyes. After the middle of the night awakening, he had managed to go back to sleep…3 hours later, earning him less than two hours of further sleep. It would have been better to stay awake. My eyes are probably indistinguishable right now. He let Iroh lead him around, following numbly out the door like a trained pet.

The seamstress' house was the largest house in the village, for the sole reason that she needed to have another space to serve as a changing room. Her front room was arranged to display her works for sale. One would select a garment and go into the back room to try it. Part of the back room was her kitchen. The back room was also where the entrance to her bathroom was. At this time of year, the bathroom was mostly empty in order to make room for a large washtub that, at the time they visited, was full of water. "I was just about to do my washing," she explained, "so don't disturb the tub in the bathroom." Zuko got a bad feeling upon hearing this.

Thrifty fisherpeople that lived like the Water Tribes did would never throw away clothes needlessly, so the seamstress had a lot of spare time on her hands. She also did much of the village's patchwork, laundered some more delicate items, and made each of her works unique and decorative in its own way. Or at least, she decorated all the coats that outsiders got to see; she probably also had plain, inexpensive coats reserved for her fellow villagers in her room. The ones for sale here had steep prices, but nobody complained. Iroh's eyes lit up. "Oh, I like this one! And also this one! Oh dear, I almost missed that one! Hmm…" He took three coats into the back room to try. One was embroidered with Water Tribe symbols, another with stars, and the third with circles. How he planned to choose between them if they all fit well was unclear.

"I like this one," Sokka said, nodding at a coat stitched with scenes of fishermen battling fish the size of whales. He looked up at Katara's flat look. "What? Something could happen to my coat. You never know."

Iroh came out wearing the coat covered with circles. Circles inside circles like eyes, circles intersecting like ripples, circles arranged in circles… She had spent a lot of time and effort on it. Iroh nodded to show he understood why its price was so high. "I already decided I am willing to avoid restaurants for the next month. It's worth it," he told her as he paid. "Nephew, have you made your choice yet?"

Zuko was tired, and the idea of dressing like a Water Tribe member did not sit well with him. Despite their pretty patterns, each of the coats was predominantly blue and came with tufts of fur and other decorative features very similar to Sokka's and Katara's coats. He picked one up at random, checking only to see that it did not have Water Tribe symbols on it, and went into the back room.

It fit well. He hated it. He took it back out. "Do you have anything else?" he asked the seamstress.

"Only unfinished works," she muttered. "I don't show those."

"May I see them?"

She pursed her lips. "If you insist. I will take them all into the changing room." She went away.

"I completely understand. These are works of art," Iroh said. "Are you sure you don't want one? These stars would look good on you! As if the sky was falling off your shoulders."

Zuko shook his head. "I don't care about art. I'd just rather not look like one of them."

"I hope we never need to go undercover," Iroh said.

"I wouldn't have a problem with Earth Kingdom clothing if our lives were on the line. Just not Water Tribe stuff." A proper Firelord has nothing to do with Water. Making friends with it? Dressing like its people? My father would disown me in a heartbeat. I would be even more of the family shame than I am now. Ugh. The very idea sent shivers up his spine. Just no. He could not do that. What if the Fire Nation invaded and he was seen wearing such clothes? His skin recoiled. No matter what, he could not take any risk whatsoever of being seen looking like a Water Tribe member. He would rather announce himself as a firebender in the middle of their stronghold than do that.

The seamstress came back from her room carrying a bundle of clothes wrapped so that they were not visible. She left the bundle in the back room. Zuko went in.

Nope. Nope nope nope. It was all Water Tribe lookalikes. Did this village trade with the Northern Water Tribe for all their fabric? Zuko shook his head, though there was nobody to see it. I am not wearing this. But now that it was a real possibility, the appeal of revealing himself as a firebender in the middle of the Northern Water Tribe sank like a stone. Zuko pictured himself doing that in the middle of a palace. Surrounded by a courtyard. Surrounded by large buildings. Surrounded by a wall five meters thick, with watchtowers and telescopes and bells. Technically, he'd snuck into and out of worse places, but he wasn't supposed to be sneaking in and out of this one. He was supposed to be staying there. He was not willing to stay there in a prison with his hands and feet shackled. Do I really have to wear this? He pictured Zhao breaking through the wall and seeing him, breaking out in gales of laughter. I cannot wear this. Watchtowers with bells. Being laughed at. Shackles. His father's disappointed face. Zuko cringed away from both of those options. What do I do?

A faint splashing sound came from the bathroom. Zuko pressed both of his hands against his face and suppressed a scream of frustration. I knew it would come to this! I knew it! I don't know how, but I knew it! He glared in the general direction of the bathroom. Really? asked a thought-voice that was not quite his own. After all your hard work, all your struggle, you would go back to being a little baby crying for his mommy? Wait, what hard work was that again? Considering getting rid of that necklace of treachery for two whole minutes before giving up? Never mind. You clearly never stopped. You aren't willing to grow up, are you? That would require you to do work instead of lying around, take responsibility for once. You'd never do that.

Zuko ran into the bathroom. He slammed his hands over his ears. What am I doing? I can't accept help from the water spirit. I know that's the wrong thing to do. I will get rid of the necklace and I will argue that it's okay we're firebenders since the Avatar brought us. I will not be a traitor.

'You will get rid of the necklace,' said the voice mockingly. Yeah right. As if you magically grew up in the past week. You're too weak to avoid treachery.

I am not! Zuko made to storm out of the bathroom. But he did not. Even the Avatar might not be able to protect him, just like the boy hadn't been able to protect his own bison from being frisked. The most likely outcome was that Zuko would spend his time in the Northern Water Tribe imprisoned, humiliated, and entirely unable to achieve his goal. Then he would never go home. Zuko's fists clenched. I have to go home. But in order to go home, I have to commit treachery? What?

His head spun. You're too weak, the mental voice repeated. You can't think your way out of this. You couldn't think your way out of an open door. Zuko tried to think, but he couldn't. The voice seemed to be right. Worthless. Shameful. He was on the verge of panic.

A tap on his shoulder had him spinning around. Without waiting for his consent, the water from the tub leaped onto him. It flowed over his chest, down his arms, down his legs, turning white as it did so. By the time Zuko finished taking a step back, he had an outfit made of ice. Before his eyes, the ends of the cuffs sprouted what looked, felt, and had all the material properties of fur. The same occurred at the hem, making it look fur-lined. He felt a moderate layer of cushioning inside the coat, too. Diamond shapes made of ice, though roughened so they did not look shiny, appeared all over his chest. A white coat with bluish diamonds over white pants: that was what he wore now.

The shock of it had stopped the critical voice dead. Zuko went to look at himself in the mirror. Aside from being white, the coat also had no hood and no decorative tufts of fur, making it look sufficiently different that nobody would pinpoint him as being from one of the Water Tribes if they saw him. He looked at it and thought, I can work with this.

Shameful, whispered the mental voice. The coat sprouted feathers, driving it away. It did not return. Most of the feathers disappeared, leaving five in an arc around his neckline, their plumes pointing away like little arrows. He ran his fingers through them, seeing how they looked when in disarray. If he hadn't been looking in the mirror at that exact area when it happened, he would not have seen the stitching appear, a line curving around his neckline and up over his shoulders to make it look as if the feathers were sewn in place. It would not be visible at a glance and anyone who saw the feathers would assume that they were sewn on anyway. But knowing that his coat would stand up to a closer inspection calmed and reassured him.

He turned as far as he could and watched a matching set of feathers, but larger ones, appear on the back of the coat. Pockets appeared, lined with the same stitching that supposedly held the feathers in place. Pockets also appeared on his fake pants, but without the stitching. Did they need any decoration? He decided not. The seamstress' coats were already works of art, so it would be easy to assume that she just didn't have time to touch up other articles of clothing that she made. Yeah. He would let them assume that.

How to get past the seamstress without her announcing that it wasn't one of hers, though… Zuko went through all the tricks he knew from his time at court until he found a suitable one. I'll give her what she wants. She doesn't want anyone to see her unfinished pieces, so if she's smart, she'll keep her mouth shut.

As if it was an afterthought, the remaining water leapt from the tub onto his hands. He had matching gloves now. Wearing two pairs of pants at the same time was ridiculous, so Zuko took off his inner, real pants and replaced all his possessions in his new ice pants. He searched for anything else about this scenario that would seem suspicious. It might be odd that she had only displayed coats to the others, but here he had a whole outfit with pants and gloves included. The outfit as a whole looked too good to give up; there was nothing to be done except hope nobody asked. He cleared his throat. "I know you really care about your designs," he announced, "and this one is clearly a masterpiece in the making, but it's the only one I like. I'll give you whatever I have for it." He emerged from the back room.

Jaws hit the floor. Everyone had stars in their eyes, even the seamstress, though she also tried to speak. Zuko cut her off, gave her something to go along with. "I'm sure it would look great when it was finished, with the furs and a hood and everything else attached. But I love it the way it is, and we're traveling fast. I'm afraid I can't wait for you to finish it. How much do you want?"

The seamstress blinked her eyes clear. She glanced in the direction of her real unfinished designs. "...Ten gold pieces."

Zuko checked to see if he had that much money. He did not. The inventor had a lot of money from patronizing the Fire Nation, so he surely had given them gold pieces. If anyone here had them, it would be the Avatar. He turned to the boy and gave him a commanding look. The Avatar was still struck dumb, so he immediately reached for his money pouch. "I have five," he said.

"And some silver pieces," Sokka added, though Zuko had not once glanced at him.

The seamstress nodded. The two boys forked over the coin. Then, still looking a little dazed, they left. Zuko lingered near the seamstress. "How, what…?" she asked.

"Spirit magic," he whispered back. "I don't want them to know I have it. Thank you." He jogged to catch up with the others.

Sokka was starting to bluster. "I - how can - why do you -"

"I think Sokka's trying to say you look super commanding in white," the Avatar said. His eyes still had stars in them.

"The Avatar's right," Iroh said.

"I chose well then. Now let's go. We have to reach the ocean by nightfall."

Zuko only noticed when they reached Appa that he had led the way. Even the Avatar had followed behind him. It was true! This was the outfit a true leader should wear. A commander. Someone to look up to and admire. A hero, even? He felt no trace of tiredness. He felt closer to being a dragon than he had ever been.

He almost thought about how the water spirit had made it all possible. Almost. He was well practiced in ignoring such things. But as he got onto Appa's back, he remembered that his new clothes were made of ice. He thought about that. It was enough.

.

A/N: Credit for the joke "My eyes are probably indistinguishable right now" goes to the creator of a certain meme I saw. They made an image of Zuko with the scar on both sides of his face to illustrate how sleep deprived they were. It was funny.