Disclaimer: I don't own shit, screw you.
P.s. And my ass will swear in the chapters so if your anti-vulgarity have fun.
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She didn't notice the voices slowly fading or the barrels slow movements as it was taken toward the kitchen. She had nodded off into a dreamless sleep as the sweet tangy plum smell invaded her senses.
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Zuko paced across the deck. His mind preoccupied, his pacing and flawless about-faces were the only movements on the ship that brisk evening it seemed. It was nearing dinner time and his men had been sent to eat. But a thought kept plaguing him, making even the image of his dessert seem trivial. A soft red glow emilated from his hands as he suddenly halted his methodical marching. Glaring out at the sea, his golden eyes seemed to be staring at something, while only the blue endless ocean was visible beyond the horizon.
"Prince Zuko, I was wondering where you were. It is time for dinner, why don't you come downstairs I found some lemon tea which should ease your nerves," Irohn said trying to coax his nephew into doing something other then pacing. Frankly the sound of boots traveling to and fro for 4 hours strait was not pleasant. The distraction had almost made him lose in a game of pai sho, luckily his opponent hadn't been too skilled otherwise his immaculate winning streak would have been decimated.
If his nephew didn't relax then the soldiers would get restless and Zuko would not be in any condition to fight. A great fire bender was always alert and kept his emotions in check… something his nephew had yet to master in spite of his improvements in military baring and flame handling.
"Yes Uncle. I'll be down shortly; I have something I must do first. Thank you," Zuko responded his voice spoken like a true soldier twice his age but his eyes remained gazing outward into the never-ending blue that surrounded him since his exile.
Irohn just nodded, but instead of walking away he decided to change the topic hoping to snap his stubborn nephew out of his reverie. "Prince Zuko, when do you wish for the plums to be prepared? The crew is very excited with the prize we found but the cooks are undecided on what meals to place the plums in, they're awaiting your instructions," Irohn paused for a moment watching as his nephew continued to stare off into the ocean then continued trying to sound playful, "I was going to tell them not to worry but you should have seen the looks some of the cooks gave me. I swear they act as if they would loose their heads if they placed the plums in the wrong food. It was truly a sight." Irohn's gentle laughter erupted as he recalled the images of the cooks white faces when he had asked them what they planned on cooking with the rare plums.
"Tell them that tomorrow for breakfast they should prepare an array of foods with the fruits. And to make my dessert for later on tonight," Zuko said holding back a sigh. He felt so tired and even pacing hadn't been able to rid him of that weak feeling. He was not a child, there should be no need for him to take naps. His very uncle, who was god knows how old, had never taken a nap. Frustrated at himself he decided to meditate for an hour. By then my dessert would be done and i can eat in peace, without the loud ruckus from the dinning hall filtering into my small private dinning room.
As Zuko walked toward his room, he hadn't noticed when his uncle left.. Uncle can be irritating but he is cunning and devious as well. Zuko knew his uncle in an instant could be a silent assassin if the need should arise.
Zuko searched his room with his untrusting eyes before he sat down and lit the candles to began his meditation. The sounds around him dieing out as his body breathed nothing but the fire he controlled.
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Chef Arroz wasn't normally skittish but he shivered when he remembered the look Prince Zuko gave when he said 'there will be delicacies prepared for the soldiers and they WILL be extraordinary.' It wasn't a statement it was a command and the anger behind his eyes told Chef Arroz that there was no way he was going to risk his neck by ASSuming what the Prince wanted. When Prince Zuko wanted something and was that adamant about it, risking by guessing normally ended with someone bleeding…never dead…but well death was better then life at times…
He was driven out of his thoughts on the Prince's rage when Irohn returned, a jovial smile always on his lips.
"Hello again Arroz, dinner was marvelous your men really outdid themselves and I thank you for the tea. It was exquisite," Irohn said as he greeted the man in charge of the kitchen.
"It was nothing General Irohn glad you found it satisfactory. Does Prince Zuko want his meal brought out now?" Chef Arroz asked getting strait to the point.
Sidestepping was never his strong suit and he had little patience. The longer the conversation with the General lasted the more nervous he got…experience had drilled into his conscious that long conversations with General Irohn always had repercussions. Plus the friendly smile always seemed so out of place in a military ship that Arroz couldn't help but feel weary of the Dragon Of The West. what was it people said 'deception always comes with a smile'...no something like that...
Irohn smiled brightly showing some teeth as he trailed his hand over his beard responding kindly "No, Prince Zuko is busy he will be down in a few hours I expect. Though he mentioned that the fruit is to be prepared for a tomorrow morning's meal, in as many varieties as you know."
"Of course! I will do my best," Chef Arroz asserted, turning to check on the soup another cook was adding carrots to, figuring that Irohn had finished delivering his message.
Irohn began to walk away then as he pushed the door open he added "Prince Zuko also asked that you prepare him a plum-berry crumb cake for tonight's dinner. It's his favorite, as you recall," Irohn added with a bright smile, disappearing past the door as his voice lingered, sounding almost mocking in the silent kitchen.
Chef Arroz was frozen, his face only centimeters from the spoon he was about to taste. His eyes were wide and his face was pale as he stared at the now closed door.
I was careful but the General, like a cobra, had struck and now I have to make a cake and have it done before the unpredictable Prince arrives. A cold sweat trailed down his back…I hadn't even seen what condition the plums were in…and were had the crew placed the barrals?…what frosting should I use?….wait did they even have frosting?…Oh Damn my luck to fucken hell and back.. Arroz rose from his bent position replacing the spoon racing strait toward the lower deck to retrieve the berries and flour as he instructed 2 other cooks to search for the other ingredients in the kitchen's backroom.
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Groggily Katara opened her eyes. It was dark and she could barely make out her hand. Her right eye hurt which was probably because she fell asleep with it propped on her knee. Yeah, just what I need a black eye from sleeping in this godforsaken piece of shit barrel. Katara on instinct pushed her hands upward to remove the lid feeling suddenly incredibly claustrophobic, with the image of dying trapped in a barrel with plums oozing under her as their sticky juices soaked into her delicate skin and her rotting flesh had its smell twisted with the rotting fruit.
The lid wouldn't move. The realization that in her rush she'd pulled it down too far just hit her. The small confining space and lack of air wasn't helping her state of mind either.
"Damn it. Let me out," she heaved as she pushed harder trying to make herself stand in the barrel, so her legs could help her push, while ignoring the soft squishing noises of the plums she was on and the numbness of her legs.
The sound of a door being thrown open made her stop as loud foot steps resounded across the room. She wasn't sure from which angle the footsteps were coming from since the room seemed to echo and the barrel wasn't helping her hearing much either. She was a bit fearful -- the steps were fast, moving hurriedly, stopping their monstrous noise allowing silence to creep before continuing, getting louder as they seemed to approach from all sides. What do I do now… damn…I need an excuse yes an excuse… but what exactly…'i uh..I just decided to take a stroll and was resting in a half full barrel of now ruined plums and found myself here'…that's not going to work I'm pretty sure… the foot steps silenced again…. Damn … I can't let them think I'm a stow-away I know what they do to them and...I'm a girl so…no I have to think of a good lie for being in a barrel destroying their fruit…shit! Zuko's going to kill me … his uncle did say these stupid things were his favorite. I need him in a good mood and destroying the rare food he likes is not going to help my chances….I need a miracle. Come on Fate u wretched hussy help me out I need some alibi, something, anything, I'm not picky as long as I don't have to face being burned, incarcerated, interrogated on my knowledge of Ang , or anything else that's bad… I just need them to let me get off at the next port no harm done…is that too much? Katara was so caught up in her internal struggle that she hadn't noticed the sound of a crate opening a bit too loudly to be far off.
"I found the sugar but where did they put those plums?… Jasper said the barrel was facing that piece of shit window in the kitchen's fucken backroom. I swear if I don't find them that faggot will find a rat in his stew tomorrow. Lousy ingrate probably sent me on a wild goose chase just to frustrate me and get me in a shitload of trouble with Arroz again. Damn fucken monkey i'll spit in his precious bloody biscuit later …though I need those fucken plums. Fuck! it'll take me a goddamn year to go through all these fucken crates. That basterds gona suffer for this" the young male said irritably as the footsteps resounded once more.
Katara was still in her crotched position trying not to make a sound. All she needed now was for that nimrod to find her and all hell to break loose.
A soft sound that Katara couldn't identify was then heard followed by a loud bang, some grunts, running, another crash like noise, a curse then slower footsteps. She strained her ears to hear more clearly but again the blasted barrel was not helping her identify what had happened.