Recovery and Discovery

[Alex Mercer]

Six Days Ago:

It was a long, tiresome walk back to the farm they left Appa at. By the time Aang and Lysandra made it, he was feeling ill. Though his wounds were bandaged, the bolts had done their damage, he had lost quite a bit of blood. As his soft soled shoes crunched along the gravel path, dawn had just broke and already the farmer Rowan was sitting on the porch.
 
The look on the man’s face was pleasant, until he noticed the red splotches upon the Avatar’s bandages. “ Emily!  Emily, get out here!” His voice thundered in Aang’s ears, his head pounding away. It was hard to believe he could have that much blood rushing through his ears with how much he had left behind. The farmer ran out to greet him and Lysandra, but only briefly before he was taking Aang’s arm over his own shoulder to brace the man.
 
 Emily almost burst through the door, but the moment she saw Aang’s bloodied bandages, she vanished back into the house. By the time the farmer, Lysandra and the Avatar made it to the door, she was setting up hot water, rags and fresh bandages next to the couch. Aang even noticed she had draped a fresh sheet across it, to keep it clean. It would seem injuries were common place here.
 
“Alright now, just relax an’ try not to squirm… My wife’s no Dalaran healer, but she’s perty good with a needle and thread.” The farmer chuckled as he laid Aang on the couch, trying to lighten the monk’s spirits. He even showed a mark across the back of his wrist, reaching almost up to his elbow. “Horse bucked while I was cut’n a long strap off a fresh saddle. Damn near took m’arm off.”
 
“Sounds like it hurt…”
 
“Tch… Whined like a baby, he did… Wasn’t much deeper than a hair, didn’t even need stitches, but he kept groanin’ that he’d bleed out if I didn’t, then cursed the day I was born when I did!”  Emily swats her husband lightly before taking a rag and dipping it in hot water. “Go get yer stash, dear. It’ll help stave off infection.”
 
The man laughed as he turned on his heels. “Infection and a bit of th’ pain.”
 
“Miss, if you like, there is extra breakfast in the kitchen. We’ll have our friend here join you in just a moment.” Lysandra had been almost leaning over the woman’s shoulder to watch her work. Even Aang was a bit unsettled by the woman’s hovering. Pursed lips, Lysandra silently nodded and exeunt the room. “Looks like she’s carryin’ a few extra burd’ns, if ya know what I mean…”
 
Aang tries to look over the back of the couch, but  Emily quickly stops the monk’s twisting about. “She doesn’t look any bigger… She’s probably lost weight with all the walking, she mentioned how active she’s been lately…”  Emily gave the oblivious man a look before shaking her head. She would let him figure out in his own time.
 
Rowan returned, carrying a rather large jar of clear liquid. It looked almost like water, but with the cap off he could almost smell the sharpness of it. “’Ere ya go lad, take a swig, it’ll ‘elp the stitch’n go by.”
 
To  Emily’s disapproval, Rowan handed the jar to Aang first. At just a sniff he could tell this was some pretty stout alcohol. “Uh… no thanks… I don’t drink.”  Emily quickly accepted the jar, giving her husband a look. She clearly suspected as much of the monk. Rowan only shrugged. “It’s fine, really, I’ve had to deal with more than a few injuries before. I’m sure I can take it.”
 
That did not stop the farmer’s wife from handing the Avatar a wrapped up rag to bite down on. Her instructions were just that, before she started cleaning the wound with the alcohol. His arm was on fire. It was not literally on fire, but this hurt more than any fireball he had ever taken – and that was quite a few. It hurt so much he tilted his head back and roared a mighty flume and rattled the house with earth tremors.
 
“WAIT! I changed my mind!” She had only cleaned one of the holes in his leg before the Monk was ready to toss a few drinks back. Again Emily was bothered as she handed Aang the jaw. He sat up against her best wishes and tilted the jar back. One swig and he was hacking up a lung. How can people DRINK this? Two swigs and his eyes watered. Is this even safe?! Three swigs and he was done. It was worse than breathing fire, because every breath IN burned more than every breath out.­
 
Mal did took the jar back and continued pouring a little more than a few drops on each wound. He did not hear sizzling, but he was positive that the flesh was igniting on contact. The pain washed over his body like an all-encompassing lightning bolt. The fight against Ozai did not burn this much. Then again, maybe this was just a blood-deprived brain and exhaustion talking?
 
The thought of exhaustion was only on his mind as the world started moving away from him. A fire burned in his belly and in his nostrils, but his flesh felt cold. An unwilling and fitful sleep eventually claimed him.

[Alex Mercer]

Day Two: Morning
 
Aang awoke to Emily’s lightly spoken words. “Breakfast… Pancakes…” At first he could only groan. His head hurt, his mouth was dry and when he opened his eyes the light from the curtains burned into his very soul. “Would you like me to bring your breakfast in here?”
 
No, he could not be rude to these people. Aang took it slow, easing himself out of the bed he had been placed in. He only realized when he stood that his pants had been changed. Too hung over to question it, he hobbled to the door, covering his eyes as best he could while still watching where he was going. “No need… You’ve done more than enough…” His words felt slow, clumbsy with such a parched tongue.
 
Emily helped him down the hall, to avoid the potted plants they had here and there mainly. When they entered the dining room, he spotted Lysandra sitting at the table already, and a fully dressed Rowan reading from a paper. “Morning, sir,” Aang greeted.
 
Rowan peeked from over the parchment in hand. The odd thing seemed to have moving pictures, as if by some form of magic… “You can call me by name, mah friend. I like th’ honor of a Prime call’n me sir, but methinks we’re a hangover past that.” Folding the parchment and placing it upon the table next to his plate, he offered Aang a knowing grin. “Ya need some water for the head, milk for th’ mouth. Can ya drink milk, or does yer vow-things forbid it?”
 
The monk slowly sat in the chair Emily offered him. Lysandra was quick to assist as well, bringing a glass of water to sit on one side of his plate, and a glass of milk for the other. “Dairy is fine… The monks used milk and eggs in a lot of their sweets.”
 
“HAH!” Taking his rolled up paper, Rowan swatted his wife’s rear as she passed by. “Eggs would be great to go with our pancakes! I brought a fresh basket in, they’re under”
 
“I know, dear.” She swats him back, just enough force to flick the farmer’s hat off his head. The two had a smile that warmed Aang’s general downer mood. A moment later, he was reminded that his beloved was a world away. A sigh escaped the monk. “Are you alright?” Emily paused in her path over to the wood stove. “Are you still in pain?”
 
Yes. Quite a bit of pain racked his body, and the lack of Katara hurt even deeper. “I’m fine… I just… miss someone back home.”
 
“Girlfriend?”
 
“Wife,” he answers Rowan. The farmer and his wife both offer an apologetic look. Lysandra looked like she was about to cry. “It’s not that bad… I’ll find a way back, one day. I thought about summoning her, like Appa or Momo, but…”
 
“We know, lad. Secondaries and Primes are very diff’rent…” From Aang’s understanding, if he died Omni brought him back. If something he summons dies, what then?
 
“Plus… I believe anything I summon is just a copy, like a memory. My… My flying lemur… the real one… passed away a few years ago.” He glanced over to the big-eyed adorable creature. Momo was laid in a bowl, most likely after having emptied it of fruit. “So the Momo I brought was from my childhood… Maybe I’m just a memory, and the real me is still with Katara…”
 
That was too deep to discuss over breakfast. Both Rowan and Emily were lost for words and Lysandra was silently twiddling her fingers, trying to avoid eye contact. She did not seem to have much experience in this area.
 
The monk took a swig of milk. The relief was almost instant. After a second gulp, just to be sure, he took the glass of water and downed all of it, and then went back for the milk. He heard a crack, then sizzling as eggs hit the pan in the partially separated kitchen. All of a sudden, Aang felt absolutely ravenous.
 
He did not let his hunger get the best of him. He was, first and foremost, a guest. Injured or not. “I was thinking… you’ve done a lot for us… I noticed when we dropped off Appa that you asked for only a few farming tools… You have a lot of field, but only one worker?”
 
Rowan chuckled. This did not seem to be a new conversation. “If by only worker you mean me, then ya caught me red handed. My Papa left me this farm before retirin’ to a nice little cottage a town over.”
 
Aang saw an opening to pay his debts, whether the farmer would have made him pay up or not. “If you want… I’m a Bender, I could help with your farm. It’s the least I can do.” Rowan opened his mouth, but immediately closed it when Emily cleared her throat. She gave them both a ‘Don’t even think about it’ glare.
 
“I mean… tomorrow... I’d hate to ruin Miss Emily’s stitches…” That was exactly what the farmer’s wife wanted to hear. She nodded approvingly and Lysandra giggled at Aang’s diplomatic choice of words. “It doesn’t take much, and I’ve heard of some farming techniques… And I can help water the field too. Tomorrow, of course… We could just walk around and look for today.” He glanced towards the kitchen to make sure Emily was not looking, then gave Rowan a nod. Secret plans were made.
 
Lysandra just shook her head. “You are incorrigible…”
 
Not willing to spoil his plans, Aang changed the topic. Discussion through breakfast was kept light, with Aang reminiscing about his world. A few times Rowan would admit his envy of the benders, even Emily seemed to sink into the stories headlong. Lysandra had heard most of the tales a few times over, but she still enjoyed what she heard.
 
“So these Benders,” Rowan finally asks, after having rolled the idea around in his head for a moment “do they just… LEARN, or are they born with this er… ‘talent?’”
 
“Well… It’s a part of a person’s inner energy… A giant Lion-Turtle taught me how to take it away, but… I have to admit I don’t really know beyond being born with it any way to become a bender…”
 
“If…” Lysandra hesitated, having stayed silent. “If you can take the power to bend away… could you give it to someone? If they wanted it?”
 
“You see, I… um…” Aang stopped in his tracks. “I… never really thought about it… Maybe?”

[Alex Mercer]

Day 2, After Dark

The time had arrived. Aang slept out in the barn on the comfortable saddle specially summoned for Appa. The shaggy bison lounged without it across the barn, upside down with belly exposed. Somewhere up in the rafters Aang was sure Momo had made himself comfortable. Lysandra was in the ranch house, sleeping in a guest bed.
 
It was odd, being pampered like this. The good kind of pamper, where the day was grueling work, but when the sun went down it was nothing but laughs, good food and great desert. Emily shadowed Aang and Rowan all day, so the monk was forced to just walk around. It gave him time to build a plan.
 
A sound caught his ear. It was the code! With a little roll and leap, Aang shot out of the barn through an open window. The effort hurt his wounded leg, but he needed the stretch. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he made a bird call that would alert his partner in crime of his escape. A reply came a moment later. With a grin, Aang dashed away from the barn, out into the open wheat field.
 
Sure enough, Rowan was there, waiting. “Ya sure ya wanna do this, bud?”
 
“Definitely, especially if it means I can come back and expect a fresh pie now and then.” He was already rubbing his hands together with eager anticipation. “Plus, I was getting stiff. Your wife’s definition of ‘relax’ is about as flexible as the cuffs she’ll put on us if she catches us.”
 
The farmer chuckled. “Tha’s my wife, I tell ya what. It’ll worth it though, I’ve been itchen to see that Earthbendin’ of yers.”
 
Aang pointed at the ground, “right here? You don’t think it’ll hurt the wheet?”
 
This had the man laugh outright. “You kidd’n? If ya can soften th’ dirt, it’ll be th’ healthiest crop of the pull!” He took Aang by the shoulder, leading him along as the wisened farmer explains the complexities of agriculture. “When th’ dirt gets hard, roots can’t spread out. Poor plants get choked up. So me ‘n Emily usually put worms in th’ ground to soften it up. Costs a lot, and takes a few days, but…”
 
The Avatar shrugs off the farmer’s hand. “So what you’re saying is I’m cheaper than worms?” A grin formed. “I guess I should up my pay to two pies?” With a swift dash away, he held up a hand to stop Rowan from following. Proud to display his non-violent side, he leaps into the air, bringing his hands up skyward. As he drops, his hands slam down, palms into the soil.
 
Rowan only had a moment to realize that Aang was starting now before he was almost thrown to his rear end. The ground underfoot trembled, pulsing outward. Even as he stepped back to catch himself, his foot sank several good inches into the ground. “Oh my word! That’s damn near three hours of work ya just did.”
 
“Believe it or not, that’s pretty basic. I was almost afraid I was going to overdue it.” Aang did not bother to dust his hands off. The dirt was a nice change. “I don’t think this way is very smart though. Row by row would be better to make sure we don’t miss anything.”
 
The farmer did not mind one bit. Aang was being thorough, and with how soft the soil was, he almost wondered how deep the roots would grow just overnight. “Alrighty. Hope ya don’ mind if I follow ya, it’s just perty damn neat.”
 
The monk grinned almost ready to blush at the praise. “I don’t mind one bit.”
 
The night progressed pretty smoothly. Aang walked row by row, stomping the ground in one place to soften the soil in long, broad lines. The effect impressed the farmer each time, yet Aang was constantly measuring his strength. So many battles had trained him to use this technique with much more force.
 
After a while, Rowan started jokingly mimicking Aang’s movements, as if he were bending the earth like a pro. Aang thought back to the conversation from breakfast. Could he make this man an Earthbender? It was not like he saw Rowan using the power to fight with, he seemed so happy with the idea to till the dirt. He could see Rowan digging wells, or building stone sheds.
 
As they came to Rowan’s grove, the farmer really got a show. It took more concentration, a much more rigid stance, to soften the soil deep enough to aid the roots of some of the deeper-reaching trees. Five rows in, it turned into more of a lesson than copycatting. Aang would pause to make adjustments to Rowan’s form, instruct him on how to feel with his feet as if they were his eyes. Rowan did not understand, but that was the best part about it. He was far more receptive to this new information than Aang had ever been.
 
It was at the end of the grove, before they entered the soybean field, that Aang revealed the growing burden in the back of his mind. “If I tried to give you Earthbending… it could change you in ways I don’t yet understand… and… I don’t know if my energy is strong enough to bend yours, even if I tried.”
 
Rowan, sweating from genuine effort, rested his hands on his hips. “Well... it ain’t like yer bendin’ my energies against my will… I mean… S’not every day a Prime walks up to ya and says ‘hey Rowan, ya want a magic lesson?’ I mean… I could prolly go to Dalaran and beg for a teacher, but…” He pointed up at the floating island, just vaguely visible as a shadow contrasting against a blanket of stars. “Can’t exactly get there, if ya know what I mean.”
 
A nod showed Aang understands. “Well… I guess it makes sense that Ozai was only so hard because he was fighting back. What if I mess up?”
 
“Will ya do right iffen ya do?”
 
“Of course, why would-“
 
Rowan stopped him with a firm pat on the shoulder. “Yer a monk. I ain’t askin’ some lowlife ta try open heart surgery on me, now am I? I’m askin’ a monk who’s life I saved to help better mine. I feel ya wouldn’t leave without a heavy spirit iffen I didn’t give ya a way to balance the scale. Helpin’ th’ farm ain’t quite like saven’ yer life.”
 
Some might think the farmer was sounding greedy by imposing debts for the noble act of saving a life. Aang, however, admired the world-wisened man. He would have felt bad to burden the farmer couple and leave without paying them back. They really had saved his life. Lysandra was nice, but she could not have staved off an infection if one had set.
 
“Give me a few days to heal. I don’t think I can do it at half strength. Until then, we can finish the farm as training. Mind and body.”
 
Rowan laughed, patting his chest. “Aye. I’m usen muscles I ain’t ever used before, an’ from a farmer tha’s sayin’ somethen.”

[Alex Mercer]

Day 3
 
This was the first day Emily allowed Aang to work, but only doing light chores. It took him a few minutes to explain that tilling the farm was very light work considering what he normally did. After a bit of discussion, she begrudgingly caved, and like schoolboys the young Farmer and Avatar head back out into the field.
 
The previous night they managed to cover a quarter of the farm. During the day they could move around easier in broad daylight, and the slight overcast kept them from baking in the hot sun. They made decent time, despite Aang performing every act of bending at quarter pace. That morning he corrected Rowan’s stance what felt like a hundred times.
 
Around Noon, Aang stopped trying to micromanage the farmer’s stances. It was not that Rowan was them wrong. He saw the man tense far too much, his body becoming far too rigid, and the Monk realized that, for Rowan, that might be just right. Aang’s Earthbending was slightly less rigid than Toph and Bumi’s, and he guessed that is why he was not as strong an Earthbender as the two masters.
 
Lunch time rolled around. Aang was surprised just how hungry he was. He and Rowan both were covered in sweat and dirt. “I tell ya what, them ‘taters were lookin’ perty good out there. I’m thinkin’ about senden y’all with a couple pounds when ya head out.”
 
“You know we don’t have a way to cook them, right?”
 
Rowan’s brow furrowed. “Well… ya could use that firebend’n of yers ta make a grilled ‘tater. Ooh, how ‘bout a Tater Soup then? Tater, sour cream, chives, mmmm-mm! ‘Course, we’ll leave th’ sausage out for ya.” That actually sounded pretty good. Rowan could tell by the look on Aang’s face and just laughed. “Yea, we Farmers know how t’ cook.”
 
“Excuse me?” Rowan received a playful swat from his wife. “You wouldn’t know a THING about cooking if I wasn’t round to feed your sorry butt!”
 
Clearing his throat, Rowan is quick to make amends. “Some of us farmers… Others tend t’ burn water.”
 
“You think this one is going to be a Pokemon Master with all that ash and ketchup.” Aang’s brow furrowed at the reference. “Oh don’t mind me… now, let’s change your bandages deary, then we can have lunch.”
 
“Wha—“
 
“For the vegetarian, fried soybean bread – in vegetable oil of course, and a fruit salad, and for us meat eaters, fried chicken – cooked after the bread, of course.” Emily knew Rowan well enough to figure out just what the man was about to ask, and seemed to know Aang well enough to work around his eating habits.
 
Emily lead Aang to the laundry room where she helped him unwrap the bandages. His wounds were healing slowly. It was almost abnormally slow, but then he remembered how back home Katara helped heal him if he were ever injured. His jaw tensed at the thought. Odd as his brain was, it made another connection…
 
“Miss Emily… If I can give someone bending… would you want to be a water bender?” He asked almost hesitantly. She seemed to be happy as she was, unlike Rowan who leaped at the idea to better himself.
 
She had a thoughtful expression for a while. After wrapping the bandage back around his upper knee, she leaned back and asked; “Would I have to fight?”
 
“No…”
 
“Could I use it for whatever I want?”
 
“I mean… sure… Katara liked to make ice sculptures in her free time, and I use it to make what Sokka calls ‘Super Slides.’ It’s kind of like a REGULAR slide, but it’s super tall and—“
 
“I get the picture. Sliding might not be the top thing on my list, but it would be pretty nice to make ice sculptures.” Aang chuckled, but it tapered off when he realized nice was not used as a pun. Soka would have laughed, but the joke went over Emily’s head – for now, at least.
 
Clearing his throat, Aang nodded. “You can heal as well. Waterbending is special like that.” By her body language, the monk assumed this is the main reason she even considered the option. It was nice that she wanted the power to aid others but disliked the violence it was capable of. In fact, Aang found it quite admirable. “Maybe tomorrow when Rowan and I water the fields, you could join us? See how you like it…
 
“I’d like that…”