Chapter Text
“And how exactly do you propose to do that when you don’t know what they’re saying?” Toma asked. One of her thin eyebrows rose in what Zuko couldn’t be sure was an accusation or merely her exasperation at the situation, as the spirits continued to deliver more and more unsupervised children to her door.
Zuko let out a long breath, “I said they don’t understand us.” His voice dropped a little lower as if Sokka and Katara would be able to hear him through the makeshift wall of tiles, “I know what they’re saying.” Quieter still, “I just don’t know it well enough to use it,” he admitted. He smoothed the blanket over his legs.
Toma chuckled, “I see. I suppose I’ll make some tea for you and our guests then, young man.” She shuffled over to one of her work counters. The rattles of tea making were muffled beneath the clatters of the floor tiles shifting back into their respective places. With the entry to the greenhouse cleared, it wasn’t long before Sokka and Katara broached the doorway again. They found themselves ushered to a cleared place at one of the counters. Steaming tea cups landed between them.
Staring down at the cup in front of him, Sokka wrinkled his nose and pushed the drink to one side, “Look, Earth Kingdom Gran Gran, we didn’t come for tea. We just want Zuko to tell us where Aang is, and then we’ll leave you to whatever all this is.” He waved his hand around the greenhouse, “You can even keep Zuko.”
The prince kept his face blank. Reactions weren’t productive, just a waste of his remaining energies. He craned his neck toward the herbalist, clearing his throat, “Am I allowed to join them at the counter or do I have to keep sitting here like an invalid?” Zuko asked. It was the closest he would come to begging under the circumstances. But he couldn’t take having this parley of sorts from that position. He sat up straighter under Toma’s appraising gaze. A moment passed, and she nodded slowly.
“Join them if you must,” she said. Pressing his hands against the grass behind him, Zuko eased himself to his feet. He took a step toward the counter. His progress was halted by a harsh whack of Toma’s cane against the stone tiles. Zuko’s brow furrowed, “Know I’ll be watching and intervening as I see fit, you stubborn thing.”
He jerked his head in agreement. From what he knew of the herbalist, he doubted it was a bluff. Her cane scraped the tiles in a sharp screech. One Zuko was almost certain was intentional. But the cane shifted aside to allow him to pass. He stiffly took an open seat at the counter. His fingers protectively cupped the banana leaves over his side as he lowered himself down. Taking shallow breaths, he ignored the slight pangs through his side. His attention shifted to Sokka and Katara across the table. He held their gazes. Zuko waited. The blue-clad pair shifted on their seats. Neither broke the silence that hung in the air around them.
“Conversen,” [ Talk ] Zuko ordered. “Den jon. Conversen tainor posems i den ehtis locatem.” [ Go on. Ask your questions and leave this place. ]
The girl broke first, “Where is Aang?”
“Gehet brien. Conversen eh agnier conversem.” [ Don’t know. Ask a better question. ] He shook his head. For the first time since he’d been tied to the tree, he had the upper hand. He silently relished in his control. The victory, however, was soured by the resurgence of the girl’s watery-looking eyes. Her fist clenched on the table. Trickles of steam wafting off the cups of tea between them thickened, clouding the air.
“This is useless, Katara. He’s not going to help us. He’s just wasting our time. Every minute we sit here is another minute we could be out there looking for Aang.” Sokka pushed his chair back from the counter. The sudden, rough motion toppled one of the plant pots. A sharp crack radiated through the greenhouse’s glass panes. Soil scattered the worn worktop, embedding itself in the grooves.
Before anyone else could respond, a sharp spray of water blasted Sokka’s jaw. He yelped. Toma cleared her throat, another round of softer sprays misting the air in a lasting reminder to watch themselves. Sokka dropped back into the chair. He glared at her receding back. He swiped the drips of water off his chin, “Yep. She is definitely Earth Kingdom Gran Gran.”
Chin resting in his hand, Zuko’s fingers masked the way his lips curled into a satisfied smirk. He’d been on the receiving end of the spray enough times over the last days. One of his fingers trailed through the layer of dirt on the countertop. Zuko waited for them to say something useful. Something that would serve as useful when he could return to tracking the boy down himself. As they’d learned before, despite the way things seemed, the Avatar couldn’t simply vanish into thin air.
There would be traces whether they realized it or not.
Traces . Zuko frowned. He scanned what little of the lawn and garden beds he could see through the fogged panes. Something other than the Avatar was missing. He pressed his lips together, dragging his fingers through the dirt with more purpose. An arrow taking shape on the table in front of him.
Katara noticed the crude drawing first. She wiped away her tears, “Yes, Aang, what about him?” she asked.
Zuko rolled his eyes. He shook his head, pausing long enough in his sketching to hold up his palm in an obvious gesture to wait. The prince shot an apologetic look at the herbalist and tipped more dirt out of the ruined pot onto the tabletop. Damp under his hands, the deeper layers of soil clung to the pads of his fingers in clumps. Zuko huffed but managed to shape the stubborn dirt into something that resembled the form he wanted.
The pair shot him matching puzzled expressions. Sokka stood up. He circled the table to get a closer inspection of the prince’s work.
Zuko shot him with a wary leer. He leaned back from the table and peasant as far as the muscles through his side would allow him without sending sharp pains coursing through his side. Sokka shrugged off Zuko’s apprehension, “I just want to see the drawing.” The other boy leaned forward so far a smudge of dirt from the counter clung to his nose, “I give up,” he announced, pushing back from the worktop, “What does a sabertooth moose lion have to do with Aang?” he asked, “Are you saying one ate him?”
Groaning, Zuko smacked his forehead. Leftover dirt on his fingers smeared across his face, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. As it seemed with everything involving the Avatar, this was going to be more complicated than he thought. He shook his head, “Bisem?” He pointed at the drawing, “Bisem. Avatarem’s Bisem.” The words came out as clipped and clear as he could manage, “Avatarem’s Bisem,” he repeated, though the fishbrains still seemed just as lost as they’d been before.
He made a quick sweep of the greenhouse to make sure Toma was distracted before he lowered himself enough to flap his hands in an undignified impression of flight. Glad her dark-haired assistant couldn't see it either even with her perch on one of the nearby counters. He had a feeling neither would let him live it down. Zuko prayed to Agni that would be enough to get his point across. Even if he wanted to speak to them, he wasn’t even sure if there was a word for the flying sky bison in their language.
Sokka’s fist slammed into the tabletop, “I got it! Bison! It’s Appa! Zuko’s asking where Appa is.”
Zuko’s relieved, emphatic nod was all the communication they needed.