The Secret Weapon

It didn't take long for Azula to come visit me again, and by that time, I did what I knew I had to do. I consented to the training, the help- whatever it was she wanted me for. I knew I didn't have a choice. And I just didn't care anymore. Yesterday seemed like a dream. If anything, it seemed like a year ago, it was too unbelievable. If anything, this detached me from my old life more than anything.
My old life. It seemed so strange and foreign to just think it.
For lunch Azula herself brought me a tray of food. It was bland, but it wasn't as if I expected much more. A bowl of rice and a small plank of some form of meat. And a glass of water. That was what I looked at first. It wasn't nearly enough, as I hadn't had a good drink in longer than I could imagine, but I knew it would taste good all the same. Azula saw me stare intently at the cup and she crossed her arms.
"Thirsty? I thought you might be," she grinned down at me. It took some willpower, but I looked up and glowered at her. "I'm easy to please- how about a deal?" she spoke, and I, intrigued, looked up again. "I'll take the bindings off your hands so you can eat and get you an entire jug of water... if you promise to be a good little girl and keep the fire bending, how shall I say- nonexistent?"
She was bent over, in my face again, just like when she had threatened me before. Still, I looked up, forced to match her gaze. I could have spat on her. I wanted to. I wanted to kill her. But I knew I couldn't, and I knew whose mercy I was at now. She was too powerful for me. I knew I had talent, and power, but I'd never been trained, not even informally. Maybe her I could take down, but with all of the soldiers I'd have to break through on the boat, well, let's just say it wasn't too likely. And I was so thirsty...
"Fine," was all I could choke out. She smiled.
"Good. I'll be right back," she said, forcing me to wait what seemed like hours, staring at a plate of food and that water... I was about to dive head first into it when she finally returned, a jug in hand, and a tiny gold key. She set the jug down in front of me and then reached behind me to unlock whatever kind of handcuffs that held my hands there. It was the best feeling in the world to be able to flex my arms- at least until I dove for the water. That feeling might have taken the cake.
Azula stood above me, no doubt looking down at me through her lashes, as I gulped the water in the jug, letting it dribble down onto my already dirty robes and onto the cold cabin floor.
"Ugh," she scoffed. The tip of her shined, black boot tipped my meager bowl of rice, spilling almost have of its contents. At this, she turned to walk out, just as I put the pitcher back down, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
"Not staying for lunch, Princess?" I questioned, and she stopped in the doorway to my cell. She turned, and smoothed the strands of hair that strayed in front of her face.
"Why no, thank you for the offer. I don't eat off of floors," she said, rolling her eyes and looking down on me like I was a squashed bug on the bottom of her boot. In a way I was- but I couldn't let her know that.
"Really? But I've saved half for you," I said while picking up the handful of dusty rice she knocked from my bowl and throwing it onto the tray. I slid it towards her and it clanged off of her boot tip. She glared down at me, but it wasn't out of the same distaste as before. This time it was of loathing, and I could deal with that. I loathed her more than anything else I'd ever encountered. I just wanted her to know who she was dealing with; that I wasn't below her.
***
When Azula left, she didn't lock my cell door, leaving me free to explore my cabin. However, to my own disappointment, she did lock the cabin door, but I knew she would. It was just natural to make sure.
There wasn't much to explore, to be honest. There was an armchair which looked surprisingly new, placed next to the window. The window wasn't very helpful, as the majority of my cabin was under water, and the window was a small square at the very top of the wall. There was a hole and a curtain in the far corner for a bathroom, as well as a wash basin on the wall next to it. The basin was empty, much to my dismay, as I'd been waiting for a chance to wash my hands for awhile now, but there was a tin pitcher sitting on the corner. On the other side of the window, in the corner opposite the basin, was a simple hammock, layered with what looked to be a pretty thin blanket, and a small pillow.
It seemed as though I was given some of the best of the prisoners' quarters. I guess this was a good thing. To me it kind of seemed like putting flowers around a head-wound. This was still a prison cell.
I spent the rest of my afternoon in the hammock, relishing napping in a comfortable position in what seemed like a very long time, and letting the sway of the sea rock me. I was between sleeping and being awake when a tap came at my door. Immediately, the door was swung open, to reveal a small servant girl who bowed quickly, not even glancing in my direction, and then proceeded to take the basin's tin pitcher and leave. I scoffed. I wasn't even worth looking at for a servant.
I lay back on the hammock and put my hands behind my head, when the girl entered again, this time, carrying a tray with more than just the pitcher on it. There was a soft pile of what looked to be like robes, and a small hair comb next to it. The girl remained silent again, turned to face me, though she didn't take her eyes off of the wall above me, bowed, and left once more.
I took this as a sign, and I got up onto my feet again, having to readjust myself to standing on a rocking floor. I poured the warm water into the basin, also finding a small rag the girl had left me, and began to clean myself as best as I could manage. I kept glancing at the door and pausing at every sound, afraid someone would walk in on me. I wasn't sure why I cared so much, as I'd be disgraced in just about every other way, but I still didn't want it to happen.
The robes that were brought to me were, like everything else in here, deep reds and golds. Even so, they weren't half bad looking. I just wasn't sure why I was given them... Nonetheless, they were clean, which was more than I could say about my old ones. I tossed them into a pile next to my cell door and pulled new ones one.
There was a long-sleeved maroon tunic for the bottom, made of some thin material, and a sleeveless dress of a lighter maroon to pull over it. There were pants to match the tunic to wear underneath the dress as well. Sleeves flowed neatly and delicately, making me feel more proper than the situation called for. The dress was trimmed in gold embroidery and glinted off of the setting sun that came in through my window. There was a gold sash to be worn as well, that draped down in the front to the length of the skirt of the dress, and pointed at the end. In a slightly darker color, there was a single lick of flame that crawled up the drape of the sash. Even I couldn't deny: their clothing was beautiful.
There was little I could do with my hair except brush it with the comb provided. I desperately wished for a mirror, and then I caught myself wondering just why was I doing all of this? Why did they give me such nice clothes, and why did they want me to clean myself up? And just then, I got my answer.
There was another tap on my door and it opened, only this time the faces of two fire wardens walked in. One of them spoke, monotonously.
"We will be docking soon, and Princess Azula requests your presence at the gate. You will be dining with her and Firelord Ozai this evening."