Later that evening, a large amount of the world' important people were gathered around a well-endowed dinner table. There was a dull rumble as several conversations were quietly held between seat neighbors, the scrape of eating utensils against fine dinnerware joining in. The open windows allowed a cool draft to roll into the hall, but it was barely noticed by the dignitaries, as they were surrounded by mounds of steaming food. The redolence of said food wafted in the breeze, carrying the distinctive smell of fish, beans, curry, and sweet desserts.
Occasionally, a topic would lead someone to raise their voice, causing nearby guests to halt their own exchanges for a moment before the flare-up shrunk back into the original tempo and everything went back to as it was before.
Poppy Beifong, Toph's mother, rose from her seat at the left side of her husband, momentarily interrupting the flow as others stood as well to show respect to their host. She quietly excused herself to the powder room and yet again, rhythm took up again.
Zuko was quite content, but if he knew his friends, it wouldn't remain so low-key for long. Sure enough, Sokka, who had been growing bored with his neighbor's pai sho anecdotes, was looking to liven up the party. Eyeing Toph, who had been blatantly ignoring everyone around her with a sour look on her face, he cracked a mischievous grin.
"Hey Toph," he called out over the table. She snapped out of her trance and tilted her face in his general direction, a cheeky retort probably already growing on her tongue. Sokka was trying to hold back giggles.
"Roll me a honey roll, honey!"
His giggling fit was cut short when a flying pastry hit him square on the nose. He sputtered dramatically, exclaiming over the sticky sugary goo that had inevitably gone up his nose and all over his face. The portly man who had been telling Sokka jokes squeaked out a guttural noise that Zuko assumed was a laugh. Maybe a pig-snort was a more appropriate name for what it sounded like, but either way, another honey roll flew straight at his face as well.
The entire table went silent, which was a feat. Not even Madame Su Po's outraged rant about the proper way to handle inner-capitol disputes had halted everyone's conversations at once. Eyes flashed between Toph and her victim, who, if Zuko's memory was correct, was in charge of the Earth Kingdom's distribution of ores to other nations. He noticed that Katara, to the right of Toph, had both hands over her mouth with her eyes wide. Not from shock, he observed, but because she was trying extremely hard not to burst out laughing.
Tearing his gaze away, he looked sideways at Aang, in the honored guest's seat to the right of Toph's father. Aang seemed unsure of what to do, caught between his obvious want to make a joke and his Avatar duty to alleviate pressure. Knowing him, he could do both in one swing, but it was unnecessary, as everybody in the room watched on with a mixture of relief and astonishment as the pig-like man's snorting laughter filled the hall. Surprising everyone, he scooped up a handful of squashed yam and flung it with poor accuracy at Toph, missing and finding a new target in a stick-like woman two seats away from her.
Just like that, the dining hall became a battleground, and everyone was fending for themselves. Sweets were soaring, soup was being splashed in bulk by an unknown source, and porcelain plates were being used as shields against an onslaught of raining curry. Momo, who had been sitting under the table stealing bites from Aang's plate, was now scampering from plate to plate, collecting dropped and forgotten morsels.
Toph's father was rattled, unsuccessfully trying to calm the mass of dignitaries while ducking to avoid being hit by his guests' dinner. He dove beneath the skirt of the tablecloth as an entire smoked salmon flew his way. One of the servers of the Beifong household will later swear up and down it had been thrown by a cackling, soup-drenched Madame Su Po.
Aang on the other hand, after a few unsuccessful attempts to calm the crowd, had given up being the peace keeper and had become a full-fledged food-fighting machine. He was whipping back and forth across the table, pelting rice like tiny bullets one grain at a time with some skillful airbending, using gusts of wind to stop any food from coming too close. Sokka was standing on his chair, a leg of porkchicken hanging from his mouth, an entire platter of honey rolls as ammunition, and a wild look in his eyes as he targeted anyone unlucky enough to be in range.
An unidentifiable lump was hurled past Zuko's good ear as he jumped out of the way and dodged it just in time. He and a few other sane people that hadn't been drawn into the battle were doing their best to stay hidden. Most of them were ducking behind a pile of overturned chairs in the corner of the room, biding their time to make an escape. Zao-Mo, a representative from a fishing village that had come with Zuko from the Fire Nation clasped his hands and muttered something. With a panicked look in his eyes, he sprang up and tried making a break for the exit. Zuko flinched as he watched him take a cabbage to the solar plexus before retreating to another safe corner.
A silver platter that once held the main dish skidded across the smooth stone tiles and rested where Zuko was crouched. Every thrifty, he grabbed it and held it against his chest. A plan began to formulate in his head as he watched the ongoing battle. Sokka seemed to be searching the wild crowd for something in particular…when he caught Zuko's eye. A large ear-to-ear grin twisted onto Sokka's face, and he raised his arm, honey roll at the ready in an obvious sign of attack. Zuko shook his head slowly, to no avail. There was no sign of mercy in his friend's features.
But before Zuko had the chance to react, either defensively or offensively, something happened that killed the entire uproar faster than either of them could do anything.