A/N: Apologies again for the 3 week wait. This time, it was because the chapter was genuinely that difficult. The second scene had to be rewritten twice, and... Well, this is why I allowed myself to skip weeks. Only the best for the readers.

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Zuko panicked. His heart rate shot through the roof, his hands shook, and he stifled his breathing so that he would not be detected. Tingles crept up his back, phantom impressions of a hand touching him, eyes watching him. Wings or no wings, if a true impression of a hand ever materialized he would leap from the saddle. It was already too much.

Oh no. What have I done? His eyes darted around the landscape and the sky searching for an escape. Too much. Too open. Too exposed. He felt like a kitten with a knife laying on his belly, the bare metal touching him, its cold scorching his exposed skin. And all he could do was stay as still as he could and hope that the knife's wielder did not notice him. Why did I tell them all of that? Because Katara made me feel so safe. Why did I let her? No, no, no. For a moment, he was utterly convinced that someone had drawn breath to ask him more questions. If he heard a single word, he was going to leap out of the saddle.

Fortunately, nobody spoke. Zuko nearly cried out in relief when he felt Appa descend for a landing. He did not; he still wasn't safe. Only when Appa landed could he be safe. Zuko leaped over the side of Appa's saddle just before the bison's feet touched the ground and walked (don't run) away, as fast as he dared, until he passed over a hill and down the other side and looked back and could not see them. Then he broke into a run. He ran to a distant rock as fast as he could manage, his lungs burning from the cold air, and collapsed behind it. He coughed and regretted having run so fast. It felt like his lungs were bleeding. He winced with every breath and hoped he was not going to drown on his own blood, but even so he considered it worth it. He peered around the rock. Nobody had followed him.

Stupid! The mental voice was so loud it was shouting. What a complete and utter moron! First you tell him about having no people, then you go and open your stupid worthless mouth about water dragons? Nobody wants to hear about water dragons! Nobody wants to hear about your pitiful loneliness! They're all laughing right now! Haha, a little bitty prince crying himself to sleep in his plushy bed surrounded by everything anyone could ever want with servants just a call away! Why would anyone ever admit to such a thing? Shameful!

Zuko put his hands over his ears, but could not block out the voice. It rose to the level of a scream. Someone like this should never disgrace the Fire Nation with their presence! A vision of his father appeared before him, making him cry out in terror. Then a vision of Zhao. Zhao's not dead. The water spirit wouldn't kill anyone. No no no he's following me! Zuko shook all over, his teeth rattling together so hard it hurt. There was another vision of Zhao, than another of his father. What have I done? I've ruined everything! Everything's gone because I'm so stupid!

There was a faint rustle on the other side of the rock. Zuko opened his eyes to see that he was already on his feet and running, as far and fast as he could, lungs be nothing. Someone followed me! He saw his father. The inner voice became a mental scream, a scream that did not have to pause for lack of air. It only stopped when he fell down and hit his head on the cold, densely packed earth. He pushed himself up immediately and looked behind him. There was nobody there.

His arms collapsed as he began to cough, deep and painful coughs that made him tear up. The air this far north was too cold to be running in. He lay on the ground and, strangely, began to feel at peace. I'm dying. This is it. My lungs will bleed out and I'll be gone. I won't have to be afraid anymore. He knew that it was wrong to think this way, but let himself think so anyway.

Sadly, it soon became evident that he was not going to die. He did not feel any liquid in his throat when he coughed and the pain eased. No… Zuko let himself lie there like a useless dead thing for a few more seconds. Then he forced himself up. He could not afford to lie like a useless dead thing. As long as he was still alive, he had to do his best to keep himself that way.

He sat on the ground and clutched his chest. What am I doing? They're probably planning how to take advantage of me right now, and I'm not there to stop it. I have to go back. I have to make them stop. He got to his feet. If Father ever finds out about this… Then I will really have no future. He wiped his face and took deep breaths, tried to look reasonably normal. Then he walked back.

As he passed the rock he saw several leaves that had blown into a cleft on its uphill side. That was probably the sound he had heard. Shameful. Coward. Running from leaves? Because you thought they were footsteps? That's both stupid AND pathetic, plus some other words. Uncle might be obligated to stay with you because he's family and he's too kindly to say no, but even he'll give up if he finds out about THAT. What happened to being so strong? What happened to being so clever? He thinks you're so good, but you're not. You're a coward who mistakes leaves for footsteps. He would never waste his time on the real you. Zuko stopped to wipe tears from his eyes. He had to look normal. Objective number one: Stop the Avatar from taking advantage of him. Subgoal number one: Look normal. Hide weakness. Give him and his friends nothing else to seize upon.

The group had a small fire going, on which they were cooking some vegetables to go with food the inventor had given them. Zuko walked up to the fire and sat down. Say nothing. Opening my stupid mouth only makes things worse. Iroh passed him some food. He accepted it silently.

"Where'd that bruise on your face come from?" Sokka asked.

Drat! It must be from when I fell down. Can't let him know. Zuko shrugged. He did his best to silently proclaim that it was normal for bruises to appear out of nowhere, whyever would one ask?

Momo sat on his knee and begged for food. Zuko looked back at the lemur, who looked up at him with such big, innocent eyes and ears that drooped like he was the saddest creature in the whole world and wouldn't someone take pity on this poor spirit? Something flared to life inside Zuko. It was anger. What did this pampered monkey know about sadness? Zuko shoved Momo off of his knee. The lemur squealed and hid behind the Avatar. Zuko returned to eating his food and hoped for no more disturbances.

When lunch was finished and the others had finished stretching and walking around, Zuko was ready. He got in the saddle first and took a piece of cloth from his pack. His practice with it may be useless and possibly worsening his firebending, making him even more laughable, but he had to admit that it was very effective as a shield. Besides, as long as he avoided that thing he had done the night before, he shouldn't become any more worthy of his father's disappointment than he was now. All he had to do was make sure his hands stayed up.

Zuko focused his whole mind on burning the cloth and nothing else. When another stream of thought tried to split off, he shut it down. Restriction. Control. Suppression. That was what he needed - no more impulsive mouth running. From now on, he would be a proper prince. That was the only way to go back home again. If he failed to be as he should… It wasn't hard to avoid thinking about what would happen in that case. Nothing would happen in that case. Anything after the point of failure was a blank void. No future, no life, nothing.

Good. That's as it should be. Then I have no choice but to be a proper Firelord. I can't fail if I have no choice.

.

"Do you think I should stop teasing him?" Sokka asked. "Not because I feel bad for him, or anything. It's just an old topic. Yeah, I really should move to more fruitful fields. What do you think? I should, right?"

Katara chuckled. "Well… If it's definitely not because you feel bad for him, or anything of the sort -"

"Which it isn't."

"- then there's no reason for you to also try to take him seriously, since it doesn't matter that he has a traumatic past with people thinking he was lying."

Sokka stopped walking. "Oh. Right. So, I should assume everything he says is the complete and unquestionable truth?"

"Just act as if it is," Katara said. They had finished packing up from lunch and were now the last people not in the saddle. "You can act, right?"

Sokka was offended. "Of course I can! Have you seen my 'master detective' act? It's elementary."

"No thanks."

"Come on, guys," called Aang. He was at the reins again, with Momo hiding behind his back.

Sokka huffed as they started walking again. "I can't believe he pushed Momo. Here we go again…"

They climbed into the saddle, secured their packs, and lifted off. Appa roared as he climbed through the air. It sounded like a happy roar. Katara pulled her hood up with a shiver; the air was cold, and she had gotten unused to it. Hopefully it wouldn't take too long to readjust to the climate she'd lived in her whole life. She envied Aang for not needing to adjust. He showed no sign of being cold at all.

"Oh, dear." Iroh turned and took out his and Zuko's pack. Zuko looked up from his cloth and snarled. "I need to see if we have enough clothes," Iroh explained. "Only firebenders have the power to stay warm in such cold temperatures. If we arrive there wearing what we're wearing now, they'll know we are firebenders."

"Let me see." Sokka spread the map. "Oh no. I see a little fishing village, but that's it. We're too far north."

"That's fine! Fishermen will be sure to have warm clothes." Iroh peered at the map. "It's right on the way." Katara took the map to Aang and showed him where they wanted to go. Aang nodded and steered slightly to the right.

"How did we not think of that before now?" Sokka asked. "It would have been easy to get coats from the air walkers."

"We were a little distracted," Katara said. "It's okay. You know he's right; fishermen are guaranteed to have warm clothes available."

With that settled, they returned to the ordinary business of flying. Sokka and Katara looked over the sides and saw nothing. The land was becoming flat and open, dotted here and there with stands of evergreen forest which looked too small and dense to hide firebenders. Sokka put his feet up on his pack, folded his hands behind his head and chillaxed. Katara looked through their clothes, making sure their cold-weather clothing was in good repair and clean. She found a small hole in the lining of a glove; it only took a few minutes to sew it back up. When that was done she shoved everything back into the pack and turned right back around, because something was itching at her mind and she couldn't ignore it any longer.

Zuko was concentrating on the cloth again. He glared at the fabric like it had done something wrong. And his only reaction to Iroh's very reasonable concerns was to snarl at him for disturbing the pack. And he had shoved Momo. And he had a mysterious bruise on his forehead. Strange behavior and a strange injury. It set off all the bells in her mind. There was something happening here that she didn't understand, and she sensed that it needed to be understood. But how could she understand when there was no way he would tell her anything?

Katara looked for anything else that needed sewing, checked their supply of loose fabric for patching, wondered if she should get some more from the fishermen or wait until they had reached the Northern Water Tribe, and so on. Meanwhile, part of her mind worked on the problem of how to understand what could not be spoken of. It was a tough problem. How could she approach without setting him off…?

She paused. The thought of approaching reminded her of something. Landscapes! Iroh had come up with that metaphor to help them understand, and understanding was what she needed now. Katara finished her investigation calmly, without rushing. She repacked the pack and stowed it away. Then she turned, leaned back against the side of the saddle, and relaxed. She let a few minutes pass by. Only then did she ask, "Hey, Zuko -"

"No."

She blinked. "I didn't -"

"No."

"But -"

"I said no."

Sokka pushed himself up. "What is going on with you? I've heard of mood swings, but what you have is mood acrobatics. You pushed Momo!"

"Whatever."

Katara put a hand on Sokka's shoulder. There didn't have to be a fight. If only she could ask her question! "Zuko. If you were a landscape, what kind of landscape would you be?"

He paused in his cloth burning. He shot Iroh a look. Then he returned to his exercise. It seemed as if he was not going to answer the question when he muttered, "I would be a volcano."

"What kind of volcano?" Katara asked gently. She had to be gentle. Show interest and take him seriously. Hopefully he would open up again.

Zuko looked up from the cloth to glare at her. Another long while passed. He absorbed himself in burning the cloth. Again, it seemed like he was not going to answer. But then he muttered, "The dangerous kind."

"I thought all volcanoes were dangerous."

"Some are more dangerous than others."

Katara waited for him to say more, but he didn't. That only made her more determined. She looked to Iroh for help. "How so?" Iroh asked Zuko. "Are you hotter than other volcanoes? More poisonous? Surrounded by deadly volcano monsters?"

Zuko glared at him. "Stop trying to get me to talk. I won't do it."

"Why not?"

Zuko stayed true to his word. He concentrated on the cloth.

Iroh said to Sokka, "I promise, he isn't usually like this." Sokka shrugged.

"If he wasn't like this before, then we must be setting him off somehow. What are we doing to make your moods so acrobatic?" Katara asked.

"Existing."

Something else occurred to her. In a volcanic landscape, it didn't matter very much how the weather was or how many people lived there. The landscape was shaped mainly by the volcano. The volcano's own inner activity decided everything, not outside influences. Katara's hands clenched into fists. "We're not doing anything, are we?"

Zuko glanced up at her. "You know what you're doing."

"No, I don't. And I don't think we are doing anything to set you off." Katara felt like she'd been stabbed. He was reacting to his own inner feelings and blaming them for it. That was what she'd been doing. But she had come to her senses and apologized while he kept blaming other people, which wasn't fair. If she could apologize and say out loud that she was wrong, why couldn't he?

"Really?" Zuko put out the cloth and tossed it aside. "You call lying to me 'nothing'?"

That earned him the attention of everyone in hearing distance. Aang peeped over the edge of the saddle as far as he dared. Fortunately, Zuko didn't notice him. He stared daggers at Katara as if he was accusing her, personally, of lying to him. At first she couldn't believe it. It took a moment before she understood: he was accusing her personally. "I have never lied to you," she said. "How could you say that?"

His hands curled into fists. "Are you kidding me? I know exactly what you're doing. Tricking me, manipulating me, twisting me into becoming a traitor. I know what game you're playing." He glanced at everyone around. "I will not be part of it any more."

Katara wanted to punch him. Her, a trickster and manipulator? What an insulting pigheaded obnoxious…! She restrained herself just barely. "None of that's true! You're just throwing around baseless insults to start a fight, aren't you? Because you just love fights and we haven't had one in far too long for your tastes."

"Are you trying to make me doubt myself or are you just that far in denial?"

"Are you -"

"Katara!" Aang called. "Fighting is bad, remember? Group harmony? One big happy family?"

Katara panted, her eyes still fixed on Zuko. "I've made a lot of compromises and sacrifices so that could be possible. I've done a lot of work. It's time someone did the same. Why should we do all the work to be understanding and forgiving when we're the ones that are insulted and hurt? That's not fair! You need to apologize. You need to take responsibility. You need to do work too."

Zuko's eyes widened. "What did you just say?"

"I said I've had enough," Katara snapped. "If you think I'm just going to understand forever, you've got another think coming."

Zuko stared at her like she had morphed into a creature no one had ever seen before. His clenched fists relaxed. Katara dared to hope. Had she gotten through his thick skull? Was he going to change his ways?

Zuko slumped backwards against the side of the saddle. He picked the cloth back up and started burning it again. Katara cheered internally. She'd won! Oh, the sweet satisfaction of making a point so good it couldn't be argued. It was a joy she'd had few opportunities to know before Zuko joined them. The joys of making new discoveries and winning arguments almost made his presence worth it. Maybe. Perhaps by a thin margin.

Her anger went away. The moment it did, everything she saw shifted. Zuko's head bowed in acknowledgment of her victory transformed into a head bowed in shame. The way he couldn't look at anyone - a sign of pain, not her triumph. The faint flush in his cheeks reminded her of the way he'd looked after accidentally revealing his childhood loneliness. Which he had only revealed because of her kind tone and well-meaning encouragement. Katara suddenly understood. He had been so scared because she'd led him to reveal what he never would have revealed by his own will. And now she pierced him with her words again, embarrassing him in front of everyone. What had she done?

She let him hide himself behind the cloth. When Sokka laughed and stuck his tongue out, she elbowed him hard enough to make him stop and rub his ribs. She shared a look with Aang. He mouthed, It's okay, at her.

Maybe Aang was right. It was okay. She hadn't said anything Zuko hadn't desperately needed to hear. She shouldn't take her words back or apologize. But Katara wished she had said them in private and not in front of everyone. They were alike, and she had needed to be by herself to even think of apologizing. The same was likely true of him. She needed to rethink her whole approach. Putting pressure on him in public, even gentle pressure, was not the way to get answers. She was startled to realize that was what she had been doing. Had she really been ganging up on him to force him to talk? If so, his accusations of manipulation weren't too far from the mark.

Katara resolved, right then and there, to never again use manipulative tactics. He could not be allowed to be right about her. From now on, she would be genuine. Conversation would be more than a data mining strategy. It would be genuine friendship and concern, the very things she was supposed to value above everything else. That was who she wanted to be.

But who did he want to be? Would he also put in the effort not to let her be right about him? Or was he happy being an irresponsible jerk that would insist on everyone else doing all the work? No. She would have known if he was lying that night he said he felt so guilty for burdening the servants that raised him, and irresponsible was the one thing he was not. Whoever he might want to be, that was not it.

Who did he want to be, and how far was he willing to go to make it happen?

.

Everything she said is what I've always said about the fire spirit. I don't like or respect the fire spirit at all. I never want to be like that. Am I like that? Is that who I am? No, it can't be. Someone like that could never be Firelord. But then why did she say those things? Could they be true?

How can I have no choice and still fail?