The Lilac Horizon Between a Blue Sky and a Red Earth

The Jasmine Dragon of the West

The young girl had been wandering the streets alone for hours, the map ruined by the rain. She hid the rest of the papers beneath her clothes in a feeble attempt to keep them dry, and in her palm she clutched the Pai Sho tile.
She remembered her instructions, but she was cold, and it was already dark. She cursed herself for allowing her pent up fear to prevent her from asking for directions. She gripped the game piece tighter.
Uncle Iroh...Jasmine Dragon...show him the tile....
She had repeated it in her mind like mantra until it was burned in, and as she frantically skimmed shop names for the right one, she began to succumb to her nerves.
She did not look like a child. She had the body of a woman, and no man would hesitate if they saw her walking with no chaperone at night.
Yet, there was a feeling of warmth buzzing in her palm. Her hand had gone numb from squeezing the tile too hard, but still, the tingling heat consoled her slightly. The rattling in her bones just barely subsided.
Among the darkened streets was a lantern illuminating a beautiful painting of a dragon, bearing shiny red and glittering gold paint, casting forth its beauty from beneath a red canvas awning. The flawless calligraphy revealed the shop's identity: The Jasmine Dragon. She approached, and knocked. Anxiety overtook her once more, nearly bringing tears to her eyes.
The door slid open, a warm yellow light leaking into the street and framing a stout figure. The girl squinted against the light, forcing back her fear, but still, she shook where she stood.
"Hello," the man had greeted her warmly, his voice familiar but also alien in her ears. She opened her mouth to return the greeting but all that escaped was the remains of her insecurity in the form of a gasped sob. She did not know this man. What if she had the wrong place? What if he wanted to hurt her?
"Are you Iroh?" she asked, her teeth bared against the cold and the fear.
"I would hope so."
She thrusted her hand forward into the light, slowly uncurling her stiff, numb fingers to reveal the Pai Sho piece.
She man smiled and stepped aside.
"It's very nice to meet you. Would you like a cup of tea?"

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The girl remembers drinking the first cup in silence, listening to the sounds of Iroh preparing a meal for her. The tea had helped her gather herself, and eventually the knot in her stomach began to uncoil.
She was wrapped in a towel, her pale hands clutching the empty cup, waiting for Iroh to speak again. Instead, he set a steaming bowl of noodles before her and sat, his legs crossed. She traded her cup for her chopsticks.
"Would you like some more tea?"
"Yes, please. Thank you."
He replenished her tea as she fiddled with the beautiful red chopsticks, wary of the food she was served. She knew of the powder that some men slip into women's food or drinks.
"Lord Zuko sent me."
Iroh's expression didn't change. He only lifted his tea to his lips and drank.
"I suspected."
"So that means you can't hurt me, or he will hurt you."
"It was never my plan to hurt you. What is your name?"
The girl gripped the chopsticks, hesitating.
"Lin."
"Very nice to meet you, Lin."
She sipped at her tea.
"Fire Lord Zuko is very much like a son to me," he continued, allowing the steam from his drink to wander over his face. "That is why I moved my shop here as soon as I could."
"To be with Zuko?"
Iroh nodded cheerily. "I had been missing him terribly for the years before I returned."
"From the Earth Kingdom, right?"
"Yes, the Jasmine Dragon was originally a tea shop in Ba Sing Se. What gave it away?"
She glanced around the room for what felt like the millionth time at all of the green and brown decor.
"Bamboo is not so common in the Fire Nation," she told him, poking at her noodles with her chopsticks. "Plus you're wearing green instead of red."
"I think the nations would be smart to learn more about each other. I have been trying to recreate my favorite noodle recipe from Ba Sing Se for a year now, and I still can't get it right. I'm starting to think the Fire Nation just does not have the ingredients I need."
Listening absentmindedly, she began to chew her noodles, and was shocked to find them to be very mild. No Fire Nation dish was intentionally made without excessive amounts of visible spices. It seemed to her that every meal she had ever been served was dusted in a heavy coat of red powder of some sort, or encrusted in a red shell of spiced oil. This was easy on the tongue and easy on the throat, and emanated a pleasant aroma of mint and pine nuts.
"I hope you don't mind the flavors. Many people in the Fire Nation would think that the ingredients in this soup do not belong together, but in my opinion, they create a new flavor that would astound anyone who gave it a chance."
Lin almost forgot that Iroh was talking about soup.

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Uncle Iroh always wakes her with a cup of Green Tea, and it is always the first cup of the day. He needs no help with waking up, not as Lin does. He rises with the sun, boiling over with loads of energy before it has even broken free of the horizon.
She wraps herself in her green robes and her Earth-toned apron, stained with varying shades of green and brown from crushing and harvesting tea leaves.
She is as Uncle Iroh taught her to be: polite, but not too polite so as to be unfriendly, as well as welcoming and warm and generous, offering the kindest customers small samples of almond cookies. This often earns her a decent tip, which she always stores away in her pocket. She plans on buying something special.
Just before Iroh dismisses her for a rest, she is tipped again, but this time, it is a gold piece from a sweet elderly woman dressed extravagantly. Lin thanks the woman, offers her another cookie, and rushes off to the market down the street.
The place has just been opened and attracts plenty of attention, considering it is advertised as an 'exotic foods market'. People mostly meander through the store, studying bizarre produce they don't recognize or sniffing cautiously at jars of colorful powder. Lin doesn't recognize anything from the skimpy section labeled 'South Pole', but can name almost everything from under the sign that spells out 'Ba Sing Se'.
She grabs what she needs, pushing through the aimlessly curious crowd to pay for it, and hurries back to the tea shop, where uncle Iroh has begun to sweep up and close. As usual, there is a pot on the stove, steaming as it comes to a boil.
Iroh doesn't hear her return. She slinks over to the kitchen and fishes her purchase from her pocket. She pours a bit into her palm, the aromatic scent of clove drifting up into her nostrils and bringing forth pleasant memories of home. She sprinkles the powder into the boiling broth and watches it disappear. She hides the jar in her pocket again and ducks back around to feign her entrance.
"Uncle Iroh, I'm back," she calls. He pokes his head from the back hallway and offers her a welcoming grin.
"I think you are going to like tonight's soup," he foretells, leaning the broom against the wall. "It should be ready in a few minutes. Why don't you go wash up?"
She nods, hiding her sly grin behind a gentle cough. She races off to wash her hands, her chest swelling with a joyous anticipation.
As she does, she hears a few clangs, and then a gleeful, "Lin! I have done it! I have perfected the recipe!"