Chapter Text
Prologue
Iroh thought he had a good handle on his family’s penchant for cruelty, but he should not have underestimated Ozai’s hatred toward Zuko.
In the royal seating gallery, Iroh felt the hot shame and guilt that has so often consumed him since Lu Ten died. He saw Zuko kneel. He heard his nephew’s desperate pleas for mercy. Ozai’s expression hardened, and he placed his hands on Zuko’s shoulders. Slowly, his large hands moved to cup Zuko’s face. Zuko’s begging ceased, and Iroh could sense the relief coming off Zuko in waves. The young boy always strived to see the best in people, and it was clear he believed Ozai would end the punishment here. Iroh, however, knew the depths of his younger brother’s ambition and hatred, and he could never stomach it. Giving into his cowardice, he looked away.
“You will learn to listen, and punishment will be your teacher,” Ozai’s cruel, nonsensical words would be burned in Iroh’s memory.
Iroh closed his eyes against Zuko’s screams of pain, his stomach clenching at the acrid scent of burnt flesh. When he dared look again, Zuko was laying on the floor, Ozai towering above him. The silence that followed was deadly and long, and it could’ve been seconds or hours when Ozai finally ordered medics to take his son for treatment. At that point, Iroh forced his mind to sharpen, running through plans and contacts he could rely on, wracking his brain to ensure Zuko, at the very least, survived this.
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Book of Earth
Chapter 1
Aang always tried to keep a positive attitude, but the Misty Palms Oasis did not seem like the promising place he remembered. As he entered the dingy inn with an attached cafe, he couldn’t help but feel annoyed, the dry heat grating on his nerves, along with Toph’s constant complaining. At the very least, Katara said they had enough money to get some food and drinks, and the thought of a refreshing cold juice made Aang tentatively hopeful.
Behind the counter was an old man with gray hair and amber eyes. He smiled kindly, wrinkles crinkling at the corners of his eyes, “What can I get for you kids?”
Aang smiles brightly back and peruses the menu, “I’ll have your signature iced wildflower tea, please!”
“Yes, let’s get a round of iced wildflower tea for all of us,” Katara adds. Besides being their signature drink, it’s also the cheapest thing on the menu. “And a large cactus salad, please.” Again, the cheapest food item on the menu.
“Oh, and add two orders of the kangaroo-pork skewers,” Sokka eagerly declares.
Toph wrinkles her nose, “Is there anything normal, like jasmine tea and rice?”
“Yeah, there is!” Aang answers, trying to be helpful.
“Those are the most expensive things on the menu! I’m sorry Toph, but we can’t afford that if we want to stay at the inn.” Katara, as usual, takes charge, “And don’t mind my brother, make that one order of kangaroo-pork skewers, instead of two.”
Sokka groans.
“I’ll add some rice on the house, but I’m afraid we cannot part with the jasmine tea so easily,” the kindly man offers.
“That’s very generous of you!” Aang exclaims.
“Really, we appreciate it,” Katara says.
“Thanks,” Sokka adds on. He squints at the old man’s nametag, “You’re a nice guy, Mushi.”
“Ugh,” Toph groans, shuffling over to sit at the lone empty table in the cafe.
Aang frowns at her rudeness.
“You are welcome to sit. I will go to the kitchen and prepare your order. You can pay afterwards,” Mushi says, “Looks like you kids could use a nice cooling meal.”
“You’re not wrong, Mushi,” Sokka says as the old man ducks past an open doorway, “It’ll be good to eat food that Katara hasn’t cooked.”
“What does that mean?” Katara complains.
“Nothing,” Sokka, at the very least, backs off.
Aang sighs, sitting at the small stone table with a heavy weariness. Behind Toph sits a young mother and girl, sipping bright red drinks quietly. There are no other customers in the cafe, and it is a small cramped place.
“At least this place has an actual stone floor,” Toph says, in a rare moment of optimism.
“Hmph,” Katara huffs, still aggravated at Sokka, but she sits down at the table..
Toph perks up, and in the next moment, a pale teenager around Sokka’s age walks out from behind the small counter, holding a tray of drinks. The liquid inside the glass cups is so cold that the glass is frosted. Silently, he places the drinks in the center of the table.
Three of the drinks are bright red, and the last one is a pale green color.
“I smell jasmine,” Toph says with a small smile.
“Wait, we can’t pay!” Katara frantically frets. “Oh, Mushi must have assumed we ordered the jasmine iced tea.” She starts rifling through the money bag with anxious movements. “Can they take it back?”
The teenager, whose namecard helpfully identifies him as Lee, rolls his eyes. He tucks the drink tray under his arm and pulls out a slip of paper from his apron, handing it to Toph.
Sokka asks, “Is it a message?”
“I don’t know, it feels like a piece of paper.” Toph grouses.
“Right,” Aang plucks the paper out of Toph’s hand and reads aloud the neat, meticulous handwriting, “Iced jasmine is on the house.”
“Oh, we can’t accept this much generosity!” Katara frets, “I’m sure the rice is already costly. It must be expensive to ship jasmine here!”
“I’ll accept it,” Toph contradicts.
“Yeah, what’s the problem, Katara?” Sokka joins in.
However, Aang can’t help agreeing with Katara, “The monks say we shouldn’t be greedy.”
“But he’s freely offering, it’s not greedy to accept gifts,” Sokka argues.
Toph chugs half of the jasmine tea and lets out a satisfied belch, “Mm, that’s the stuff.”
Remembering the monks’ lessons on gratitude, Aang turns to the waiter to thank him, but he’s already gone.
“Quiet guy,” Sokka comments. “Sneaky.”
“Did you see those scars around his ears?” Katara points out, “They looked like burn scars. Really old ones.”
“Oh,” Sokka frowns, “You don’t think—”
He’s interrupted by Lee coming back with a huge bowl of cactus salad.
“Hey, we wanted to thank you for the iced jasmine tea! We appreciate it and would love to repay you in some way!” Aang says.
Lee places down the cactus salad without any reaction. He has the same amber eyes as Mushi.
“Yeah, we’d really like to thank you,” Katara taps the back of Lee’s hand as he withdraws from their table, and the teenager jumps, clearly startled. Katara quickly backtracks, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean–”
Lee frowns at Katara and rushes back toward the back of the kitchen.
“Jumpy,” Sokka frowns, but he doesn’t think too much of it, preferring to dig into the cactus salad. “Ew, no meat.”
“Really?” Aang grins, grabbing his chopsticks.
“Mm, this is pretty refreshing,” Katara sighs.
Toph hums, “It’s not bad.”
They probably take less than a minute to eat the entire bowl, much to Aang’s chagrin. Nevertheless, he has to admit he feels a lot better afterwards. The bright red wildflower tea is also delicious, with a strong tangy flavor and slight sweetness.
As Aang sips his iced tea, he finally feels like their luck may be changing.
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“I really think you should talk to those kids,” Uncle nags.
Zuko huffs, looking away pointedly.
Uncle, ever insistent, rushes back into his field of vision and continues nagging, “C’mon, they seem nice! And they’re staying at the inn tonight.”
“I’ll prepare their room, then,” Zuko reluctantly offers. They could use the business, even if something about those kids didn’t seem quite right.
Uncle beams, “Room 3, please.”
Zuko nods, ducking into the small supply closet where they keep all the keys for the small 3-room inn. When he concentrates, he can feel the heat of the bodies in the cafe downstairs. The mother and daughter, Xing and Ming, already left, while the motley group of kids fidget around the cool stone table. Zuko grabs the worn, but clean linens, and he heads into the biggest room of their little inn, boasting two single beds. He has no idea how four kids will fit in it, but he doesn’t think too much about it, instead moving to methodically dust the stone floors.
He keeps a proverbial eye on the kids downstairs. Uncle is behind the counter, and then he’s quickly transitioned to leading the kids up to the rooms.
Zuko startles. He hasn’t even finished sweeping; he still has to replace the linens. With a forceful movement, he flings the broom against the wall and rushes out of the room, finding a smiling uncle leading the kids up the stairs.
“I haven’t finished preparing the room,” Zuko tells Uncle angrily, “You know it takes longer than a minute!”
Of course, as often happens, the kids are taken aback by Zuko’s form of communication. Signing isn’t very common, after all, and Zuko is always painfully aware of the fact. Their mouths are all moving, and Zuko never got the hang of lipreading, so he simply rolls his eyes in annoyance.
Uncle merely smiles, “I’m sure it’s not a problem. Take your time, nephew.”
“Wait,” the extra fidgety orange kid with blue tattoos jumps up, and to Zuko’s immense surprise, he’s signing, “Are you deaf, Lee?”
Taken aback, Zuko only nods.
“That’s so cool!” the kid exclaims.
Definitely not the reaction Zuko is used to.
“Don’t worry, we can help prepare the room!” the kid continues. “I’m Aang.”
The water tribe kids start mouthing, and Zuko ignores them, focusing on the person he can actually communicate with. “Fine, you do it, then.” Downstairs, he can feel a regular coming in, a young sandbender named Tam who knows a bit of sign and doesn’t have a problem writing things down. Zuko would much rather deal with Tam than this strange group right now.
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Katara has had a lot of moments of awe since leaving the South Pole. Life in the village was so insular and contained, and there’s so much about the world she was never exposed to, such as a whole language communicated through hand movements. Despite all the new things, however, Sokka remains consistent in his ability to put his foot in his mouth. Her brother is reliable like that.
Sokka complains, “I can’t believe he’s your nephew, Mushi. That kid is so moody, and you’re so nice!”
“My nephew has been through a lot,” the kindly old man states. “Try to be patient with him.”
“We will,” Katara decides. “And we really don’t mind setting up the room ourselves.”
“Shouldn’t take more than a second,” Toph agrees. With a flick of her finger, all the dust inside the room deposits itself in a neat pile inside the dustpan. She hands the broom and dustpan to Mushi.
“Thank you, kids,” Mushi says politely, taking his leave. “I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”
Sokka shuts the door behind him, “Hey Aang, how did you know that hand-wavy stuff?”
“It’s called sign language, Sokka,” Aang smiles in that heartbroken, nostalgic way that breaks Katara’s heart. “One of the monks, Rinchin, who taught me was Deaf. We were all taught sign language from a young age.”
“Do you think you can teach us, Aang?” Katara asks.
Sokka nods, “Yeah, imagine how cool it would be to communicate without speaking. We could totally get the upper hand on some Fire Nation goons that way.”
“Sign language is part of a sacred culture,” Aang frowns, “We were taught that only Deaf people could teach the language.”
“Maybe we can ask Lee, then,” Katara suggests.
Sokka scoffs, “You’d have better luck asking an angry goat gorilla.”
“You can still try,” Aang shrugs. “I’m gonna go check on Appa. I’ll probably end up sleeping with him since this room is pretty small.”
Katara nods, knowing that Aang prefers to sleep with his sky bison anyway.
“And those beds are wood, I’d prefer the nice stone floor, thank you very much,” Toph says.
Katara sighs slightly, with relief. She had really wanted one of the narrow beds. “I’ll see you later, Aang.”
Aang smiles at her. He pulls off his bamboo hat and flicks open his glider, “Here, take Appa’s whistle if anything happens.”