Ginseng Tea
Summary: Ever wonder why Ginseng Tea is Iroh's favorite? Iroh-centric. One-Shot? Maybe not if ya'll are interested in it.
He had a ritual back in the day. He and his brother Ozai would go into the city, sans their father's permission, to listen to the storyteller on Thursdays. She was good at her craft, and for that, Ozai enjoyed going to listen, but for Iroh, there was a different reason. Iroh enjoyed not only the stories, though he thought them lovely, but the storyteller herself.
Her name was Keiko. She was a gentle girl from the village, with long hair and a sweet laugh. She spoke poetry and verse like it was all she ever knew, and her heart was strong and wild. She was not a bender, as it was not the fire nation's way to train common women to bend, and often she seemed helpless like the children she read to, but she was good at her craft, and for that, Iroh deeply respected her.
They had never spoken, but he watched her often, all the while sipping tea from the bar in the inn. Ozai preferred stronger stuff, but Iroh had never been too much like his brother in that aspect.
One day, he sat drinking Echinacea Tea, and listened to her recite one of his favorite poems. Two lines in particular stuck with him.
We walked a path of dancers 'til time came to fan the flames
We walked to find the answers; we walked to make our names
It seemed each time she whispered that stanza she would look him right in the eye. Something in her voice, and the way she sat when she uttered them made him wonder if those words might be for him.
They certainly fit quite well.
That day, she sat down at the bar when she was finished with her tale, and waited for Iroh to approach her. He did so, carefully, and once he had, she spoke directly to him for the first time.
"You come here every week, sir…could my tales really be so interesting? Or is there something about them the Fire Lord does not approve of?" she asked him. When she met his eyes, he caught a glimmer of a tear in hers.
"No one disapproves of your art, my lady. I come because your voice lures me…from the first time I heard it, it has haunted me in my dreams." He said. Her hand shook slightly, and the bartender walked up to them.
"Orders?" he asked.
"Ginseng." She stammered, overwrought with nerves. Iroh made a motion as if to say 'the same' and the bar tender left them.
"One poem in particular…" he mused as he watched the tender go. He caught her eyes steaming up out of the corner of his eye.
"We walked a path of dancers 'til time came to fan the flames…" she whispered, barely audible. He perked up slightly. She knew what he meant.
"We walked to find the answers; we walked to make our names." He finished for her with a slight smile. A blush consumed her face, and the bartender came back with their tea. Iroh set a few silver pieces on the table, and took a sip of tea. He immediately loved the taste.
It was the taste of magic.
