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Akoyo barely looked round when Chao dropped a large crate onto a nearby counter with a thud. Preparations for Firelord Zuko’s coronation feast were in full swing, and things were frantic, to say the least.
Many members of staff had fled or been banished during the chaotic days leading up to the arrival of Sozin’s Comet, with many not returning. There had been a frenzied hiring spree, but even so they were still understaffed, and she was working with a lot of new faces who were still learning the ropes and trying to figure out how to work together effectively.
If it had just been a normal feast, then staffing issues wouldn’t be much of a problem – it wasn’t as if they’d hired complete newbies who didn’t know which end of a ladle was which; everyone knew how to make a wide variety of Fire Nation dishes, and make them well.
But they weren’t just making Fire Nation dishes. Representatives of all four nations would be in attendance, and the kitchen staff had been instructed to prepare accordingly, with a wider variety of foods than they’d normally be expected to make.
For obvious reasons it had been a century since there’d been a gathering of all four nations. Agni, nobody working here could remember an occasion when they’d hosted even three – not even Uriko, who’d started as a kitchen maid early on in Firelord Azulon’s reign.
The closest thing they had to any kind of specific instructions (which had apparently come from Firelord Zuko himself) was to tone down the spices in any food meant for the Water Tribes, and to ensure that there was a decent variety of vegetarian dishes for the singular Air Nation guest.
They’d managed to dig some recipe scrolls out from a dusty corner of the library, and a kitchen maid from the colonies had shared a few Earth Kingdom recipes she knew. But the scrolls were older than Firelord Sozin and the maid’s recipes were peasant food that they were doing their best to dress up.
Everyone was all too aware how much was riding on this feast. Not only was this a coronation dinner, where they needed to make a good impression on their new ruler, but this gathering was (unofficially) the beginning of the peace talks that would decide how heavy a price the Fire Nation would pay for the war.
She had sent Chao down to the docks because he’d mentioned that his brother, a trader who travelled extensively and had a knack for getting his hands on exotic ingredients (which she suspected involved dealings with some unsavoury characters, but she wasn’t going to concern herself with that right now), was in port.
She finished chopping the onion-carrots she’d been busy with and turned to see him grinning proudly.
“We’re in luck! Not only did my brother have a hold full of gen-yoo-ine Water Tribe delicacies, but he sold them to me for next to nothing!”
That got her attention, and not in a good way. It was true that merchants would often give them a good deal in the hopes of future royal patronage, but any fool had to know they were desperate, and no trader would pass up the chance to jack the price of their goods right up.
She peered suspiciously into the crate, and her worst fears were realised. The crate was packed – packed! – with vile-looking slimy lumps.
She stared at Chao in mute horror, which he apparently assumed was awe.
“Great, right? They’re called sea prunes.” His grin grew wider, and her heart sank. “And guess what?”
“What?” she asked, numbly.
“I got another six crates waiting outside! He had loads of the things!”
It took years of experience gained from working in a stressful environment not to scream. His brother had clearly used this as an opportunity to dump a load of trash that he couldn’t sell.
Still, they were desperate, and she remembered seeing instructions for preparing sea prunes in one of the scrolls. They could serve some to the Water Tribe guests, who hopefully would be happy enough for a taste of home that they’d overlook being served what was almost certainly peasant food (their resemblance to ocean kumquats, which no noble would be caught dead even letting their servants eat, suggested that much). Maybe give the other guests a small plate containing one or two. And then discreetly remove the untouched plates a few minutes later.
As for the rest… Well maybe the komodo rhinos stabled in the guard barracks would eat them.
She made a mental note to write a will the moment she got a chance to take a break, because she was surely going to be executed for this.
⁂
It was still early, but so far the feast was going well, and Muyo had made the mistake of starting to relax. The Firelord had not banished anyone. The Avatar was friendly and cheerful. The Water Tribe and Earth Kingdom guests were conversing happily and with seemingly no complaints about the food. The Fire Nation nobles were all being perfectly stiffly polite.
And then the kitchen staff had handed her and the other servers plates containing the most disgusting-looking things she had ever laid eyes on. And she was expected to serve these to the head table. To the Firelord himself.
She approached nervously with the tray held out protectively in front of her (even though it was no less flammable than she was), and was relieved to see that he was deep in conversation with Lady Mai, as they watched the Avatar demonstrating some airbending trick. And an animated conversation between Lady Ty Lee and Master Bei Fong had drawn the attention of several other guests at the table.
No problem, she’d just quietly drop the plates off and run. Someone would have to collect the untouched plates later, But that was a problem for later. And hopefully, for someone else.
She moved around the table with the invisibility of an experienced servant, slipping plates in front of each guest.
The only person to notice was Master Katara (who displayed a distressing tendency to actually be aware of and engage with the servants), who nodded and smiled at her. When she caught sight of what was being offered, her eyes lit up and she nudged her brother excitedly. “Look, Sokka! Sea prunes!”
They both began munching on them quite happily, and so she allowed herself to relax for a second…
She hadn’t spoken that loud, and it should have been lost in the chatter of the table. But several seats away the Firelord’s head whipped round so suddenly she was worried he’d break his neck, the beads in his hair clicking together.
Then he looked down and spotted the plate in front of him.
As quickly as she could get away with, she shoved plates next to the last few people at the table so she could flee.
But she wasn’t fast enough. She was still serving the last person when he grabbed one of the things and shoved it straight into his mouth, chewing enthusiastically.
As she watched he swallowed the thing, and his eyes actually filled with tears.
Oh Agni. She was dead. She was so dead. She should have written a will. Well, probably no point to that, because she had nothing to pass on. But a letter to her family, saying goodbye and telling them she loved them.
How could they have forgotten that he’d been held captive by the Water Tribe? Spirits knew what horrors he must have endured, even if they were all on good terms now. Who knew what memories this dish must invoke?
Oh no. On no, he had spotted her. The Firelord was looking right at her and running for safety was no longer an option. She could only stand there frozen.
“Do you have more of these?” He was looking at her with an intensity that was terrifying, and suddenly, despite the scar, despite the beads in his hair, the resemblance to his father was all too obvious.
She couldn’t figure out his tone, but she could only assume it was horror.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” she managed to gasp out, clutching at the now empty tray. “I- I believe we have several crates.”
“Really?!” His face split into a wide grin, and her fear morphed into confusion. He was… happy? “Please bring as many as you can!”
As she rushed away to obey his command, she heard Avatar Aang saying, “Here, Zuko, you can have mine. I’m, uh... I want to save room for the next course.”
⁂
The Fire Nation nobles looked at the slimy black things on their plates in utter disgust. What were those things? They didn’t look remotely edible.
But…
They looked up at the new Firelord, who was eating the things with absolute relish.
They looked down at their plates.
They looked back up at the Firelord, who had snatched a plate from the Avatar and was now devouring those.
They looked back down at their plates.
These things didn’t look like they could possibly be edible. But the Firelord clearly loved them, so maybe they were better than they looked.
And disliking something that the Firelord favoured was downright unfashionable.
They looked back up at Firelord Zuko. And down at their plates once more.
They picked up one of the things with varying looks of distain (frowns, holding the thing awkwardly between forefinger and thumb as if it was something the cat-owl had dragged in, suspicious looks). They bit into the strange slimy lump. They chewed.
And immediately gagged.
But… the Firelord liked them…
They swallowed, and reached for the next one on their plate. At least there were only two on each plate. Just one more…
Servants walked in carrying trays laden with the things.
So this was what defeat tasted like.
⁂
Toklo was having the time of his life. If someone had told him a year ago that he’d be an honoured guest in the Fire Nation Palace, hosted by his friend, the Firelord, he’d have laughed, before running to find Healer Kustaa to report that someone in the crew had gone mad. But here he was.
He caught the eye of his friend and waved. Zuko waved back and grinned. Which was unfortunately all they could do because apparently he wasn’t good enough to sit with his friend, according to the idiots in charge of table arrangements.
The war over how to arrange the guests was almost as fraught as the one they were celebrating the end of. Chief Hakoda was the adopted father of the new Firelord, and as such should sit at the head table. However, he wasn’t the father that Zuko had inherited the throne from, and he was also the chief representative of the Southern Water Tribe and was therefore required to sit with them.
And if the fusty old bureaucrats wouldn’t make an exception for his father, then his friends and Not-Uncle stood no chance.
Sokka and Katara, as members of the Avatar’s group, got to sit up there, but him and Panuk were relegated to sharing a table with their fellow tribesmen. (And a bunch of Northerners because the Fire Nation couldn’t tell the difference.)
Zuko had probably tried to argue, but he’d had a million other things to do (like actually getting people to understand that yes the war really was over now and could they please stop fighting, thank you), and even an absolute monarch could only do so much against fanatical protocol obsessives with seating charts.
He’d already given them a tour of the palace, and they’d have plenty of chances to hang out.
Besides, he could still have some fun. He made a face at the Firelord, which was something he’d definitely have been executed for a week ago, but was now met with laughter.
And then things got even better. Somehow, they had gotten their hands on sea prunes.
Not many – only two per person, but that was still better than no sea prunes at all. And there was something gratifying at having a piece of Water Tribe culinary heritage being served at a fancy Fire Nation dinner.
He’d already practically inhaled the first sea prune and was chewing on the second, when Panuk tapped him on the shoulder and pointed around them.
He looked around to see what was up and was greeted with a truly beautiful sight. Fire Nation nobles, peering at their plates suspiciously and prodding at this strange new delicacy, and darting glances at their newly-crowned ruler, who was eating his with obvious enthusiasm.
Slowly, nervously (as if afraid they’d come alive and bite) the stuffy nobles each picked up a sea prune…
Oh, this was truly amazing. A story to regale his future grandchildren with. And other people’s grandchildren. Or literally anybody who would listen.
They so clearly hated them, but their new Firelord loved them. And whatever weird sense of pride the Fire Nation seemed to run on wouldn’t let them go against the Firelord in any way. So they forced themselves to eat the next, wearing expressions that suggested that many of them would rather eat actual poison.
Some of them tried to get it over with quickly, shoving the whole thing in their mouth, manners be damned. Others took a bite at a time, alternating with large gulps of sake. He saw a few sneakily hiding theirs under food on half-eaten plates from the previous course.
Flickers of relief crossed pale faces across the room. It was over. They had got through the experience without embarrassing themselves in front of the Firelord.
And then servants walked in carrying trays bearing more sea prunes, much to the nobles’ despair, and the Water Tribe representatives’ delight.
Best. Day. Ever.