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The Chong Sheng Trilogy: War by rachelthedemon

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The Chong Sheng Trilogy

PART I: War

Chapter 10: The Blockade

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"You're kidding, right? Please say you're kidding."

Sokka shook his head. "I wish I could. You think I want to admit we're heading toward a wall of Fire Navy warships?"

"It's a big one, too," Zuko said. "About fifty ships. I was expecting one, but I didn't think it was going to be this huge. Or this far out."

Katara scowled at him, bracing her hands on her hips. "And you were planning to tell us about this when?"

Sokka shook his head. "We don't have time for that. We know it's there, and we have enough of a heads up to still do something. We can't waste it by arguing."

She pursed her lips at both of them, sighing. "So what's your call?"

"We do have one important point on our side," Iroh offered. "We're on a Fire Navy vessel, so we won't be attacked unless we give them a good reason to."

"But because they think we're Fire Navy, they also think we're part of the supply line," Zuko sighed. "Especially since we're alone. It's more likely they'd assume we salvaged the cargo from our companions and make us hand it over." He shook his head. "That can't happen. Above all, we can't be boarded, or we really are screwed."

Sokka looked over at him, wary. "I'm not gonna like this, am I?"

"Probably not," he said. "But I think you'd like a prisoner camp even less."

"Shoot, then. Just, yanno, not with fire."

Zuko turned toward the horizon, leaning on the rail. "We'll have to run the blockade. Sure, it'll give us away as a captured vessel, but at least we'll have a fighting chance."

"Are you crazy? They'll just send a ship to chase us and--"

"Not unless the Commander in charge wants his head on a pike somewhere," Zuko cut him off. "Number one rule of naval blockades is you never ever break them, unless the ocean itself makes you."

"And if they alert the temple force ahead of us..."

"Oh they will. But they'll be expecting us to come in by ship, and we'll be beached long before that."

Sokka sighed. "So I assume full speed ahead and don't stop for anything?"

Zuko nodded. "We have to get through."

Katara, who'd been conspicuously silent the whole discussion, finally spoke up. In that quiet, cryptic tone she always used when she had an idea everyone else would think she was crazy for. "If we're going to run it...then allow me to get the clutter out of our way."

"Clutter?" Sokka asked, brow arching. "What are you talking abou--...Oh no."

She grinned, heading to the prow of the vessel. "You all might want to grab on to something."

* * * *


The ocean stretched before them, polished stone carved with the wakes of warships and glistening as such in the last rays of sunlight. The young lookout siged as he perched at vessel's prow, facing the stern of the ship ahead of him but looking out east for the incoming delivery his captain had been expecting. A job that kept him above decks where he could do less damage, so the man had said, while wondering how desperate his country was that they would let worthless wastes of a good uniform on board.

He had half a mind to let them miss the supply ship out of spite. It wasn't as though he wanted to be in the military at all, but there was this thing called "drafting" going on, and he reckoned that jail would be a lot less pleasant than a warship. Not that warships were all that pleasant, but he at least had the freedom to leave of his own volition.

He adjusted the lens of his spyglass, focusing farther to scan the horizon for any sign of his watch target. No ships had come into view, but the water itself had started to turn choppy at the edge of his sight. As though there was approaching activity. His brow narrowed in intrigue, for it didn't look like it usually did with the approach of a ship. Instead of the characteristic "v-split" of a bow parting the waves, the water instead gathered toward a single point. A peak above the dark mass of ocean, glinting like red wine in the first rays of twilight.

A sick knot twisted his gut. This was wrong. So very, very wrong. Even as he watched the strange shape approach, he felt paralyzed with the dread that something very bad was about to happen, and there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it.

Closer. It felt like it was moving at a sloth-bear's pace, but the curl of the waves told him the precise opposite. Whatever this thing was, it was racing toward them at a dizzying speed. He swallowed thickly, transfixed by growing horror as the shape itself became clearer, as well as the action of the water itself.

It was getting bigger.

Gathering more water, as though the very ocean were one giganting blanket lifted up by the force of a great storm. Yet the sky remained clear violet. Not a cloud. Only the water churning and curling itself into a building crest that turned his very blood to ice with the realization of what exactly he was looking at.

For that moment, he forgot how much he hated his captain. He forgot hpow much he hated the military. He even forgot how much he hated the slop they dared called food on this rig. All he could think about was a ship full of men below him who hadn't the slightest clue what was about to hit them. He knew of the danger, and he had to warn them.

He dropped the spyglass, swearing and running below decks with frantic screams.

"Ahoy! Rogue wave off starboard! Batten down!"

* * * *


Zuko clung to the railing as per the Waterbender's advice, and was never more glad to heed such warnings. The deck of the ship was already soaked with the water she'd gathered below them as she stood at the prow as though anchored, the ship rising higher with the force of it. Some part of him wished he'd known what he was getting into by teaming up with this pair of lunatics, while the rest of him preferred blissful ignorance and to cower against the railing waiting for someone to tell him when it was over. Yet for the life of him, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight. Her standing there bending her little heart out like some ancient sea goddess while water spilled over the deck as they gathered more altitude.

His ears were starting to pop, making him wince, as the ship teetered on the precarious support below. His stomach answered with a flip and sudden wave of sickness, and he had barely enough time to turn and lose what little he'd eaten into the sea. Retching and burning and his eyes stinging, afraid he might bust a rib but not daring to resist because that only made the inevitable heave more violent.

He chanced another look up when his body allowed him, in time for a slap of water to clean his face off. He spit it out with a sputtering cough, watching her between his soaked bangs. Her teeth were bared with the effort now, arms sweeping in tighter movements, drawing more and more water into the slowly building wave. That same water had already soaked the hem of her clothes, leaving her standing in a growing puddle. She heaved a particularly large gather of it under the ship, holding it for a few minutes with a visible strain before continuing.

It was...breathtaking. Of course, could attribute that to getting hit in the face repeatedly with sewater and having to actually hold his breath as such, but it was more than that and he knew it. The sheer amount of raw power this slight girl possessed, and the ability to use it without losing control was astounding. That she could make something as large and free and wild as the ocean itself obey her.

It was a lie, what they said back home. No Firebender he'd ever known, not even his sister, could hope to match this. Ever.

The ship began to lurch her prow heavenward, stern falling quickly as the wave slid under her belly. He clung tighter, cursing gravity and his weakened stomach for conspiring against him and at the same time reminding himself he had nothing left to bring up. The smaller waves hit him with even more force at this angle, threatening to tear him off the railing and sweep him to certain death.

A scream caught his attention, snapping him out of his thoughts, and he snapper up to see Sokka, who clung perched on the railing ahead of him, lose his grip to a particularly unforgiving wave. Falling toward him in panic, flailing, trying to reclaim a place on the rail before it was too late and all he would have would be the polished smooth hull of the vessel. And at the same time, Zuko felt his own grip slipping, drenched hands and shivering body finding it harder to hold on.

The reflex was automatic. There was no time to consider the risk. No time to be afraid of losing his own grip and sending the both of them plunging into the sea to drown. Only time to fling his hand toward Sokka and pray.

He caught it in a strong grip, bracing his other hand for the impact of the extra weight, taking it with a shudder but managing to keep his vice-like grasp on the metal. He looked down into the astonished boy's face for a moment, not trying just yet to pull the both of them up. "Are you all right?" he shouted over the roar of the ocean.

Sokka nodded, unable to yell back at him for the utter shock. Zuko looked back up at the railing, knowing he would never be able to hold on to him for that long. He bit his lip, then turned back to him. "I'm going to swing you back up! Catch the railing, then let go of my hand! Got it?"

Sokka nodded again, visibly bracing himself.

Zuko took the deep breaths he'd been trained to, starting to swing his arm first, and gradually bringing his full body weight into the motion. Wider and wider, trying to get Sokka's hand up to the rail. Almost. A hairsbreadth away. One more swing and...

Sokka's fingers closed on the metal, securing himself, before letting go of Zuko's. And Zuko himself let out the sigh of utter relief he'd been suppressing as the boy curled back up into a more secure position. He followed suit, turning back to watch Katara and fleetingly wondering if drinking the same water she and her brother shared was such a good idea.

It wasn't that he thought she was crazy, it was that...okay, he did think she'd lost her mind. But when one is clinging to the deck railing of a ship riding on the back of a sixty-foot wave, one tends to question the sanity of the person whose bright idea it was. Closing his eyes wasn't helping his still roiling stomach; not being able to see the motion throwing his balance off was actually making him feel worse. He dared a look up instead, enough to see her step back and sweep her arms up to pull the wave even higher.

Concentrating on that slim figure was the only thing keeping the rest of his lunch down.

She moved like a dancer, so much different from Firebending, with its quick, fierce jabs and long, whiplike stances. Hers were fluid and rounded and graceful, as if she herself was a stream of water. And capable of breaking him over her knee anytime she pleased.

He found the thought of it...alluring. Or he would have if he wasn't hanging on for dear life.

The ship began to pitch forward as the wave crested beneath it, and he winced for a moment at the sudden lurch of his stomach in response, clenching his throat to keep from throwing up again. His eyes opened to concentrate back on her movement rather than the ship's, fingers already gone numb from the freezing splashes.

And then, the moment he'd been waiting for and dreading.

The wave began to fall rapidly as she stomped and pushed forward, and he felt his heart pound at a sickening rate as she held the position, trembling all over and swaying on her feet with both the movement of the wave and very obvious exhaustion. A final splash swamped the prow, tearing his hands free and sprawling him onto the metal as they landed, the lurch of the ship knocking her backward and utterly off her stance.

He scrambled to his feet, skidding across the deck, catching her and kneeling to break both their falls. He tucked her safely up to his chest, turning around to shout to Sokka and his uncle. "We're through! Full speed ahead!"

They nodded, running off below decks to the helm.

He turned back to Katara, unconscious and deadweight against him, and just as drenched. He smoothed a lock out of her face on instinct, trying not to like the way the salty scent of ocean clung to her hair as he muttered under his breath.

"...Showoff."

* * * *


Night had fallen swiftly, fortunately finding them all in dry clothes. Zuko himself carried her into what would've been the captain's bunk, laying her down on the bed and pulling the sheets over her, Sokka at his heels with a torch. He set it in the holder on the wall, sighing and wrapping his arms around himself with a shudder despite being warm and dry. Indeed, he hadn't stopped shaking since the ship had come back to the water, and Zuko didn't think he'd ever forget the look on the boy's face. Ashen skin and wide eyes and the corners of his mouth turned down in shock.

Now he simply looked tired. And worried. Not as pale as before but still having a sickly cast to him, though Zuko attributed that to leftover seasickness, as he himself was still feeling a little queasy.

"She'll be okay," he murmured, trying to reassure him. "She's just exhausted."

Sokka looked up, biting his lip. "I'll watch her."

Zuko frowned at him. "Are you sure? Because you look like you're about to keel over."

He shook his head vehemently, eyes glued to her face. "I'm sure. I'm fine. I just need to be here with her."

Zuko sunk down on the edge of her bed, frowning. "You need to get some rest. I know you're worried about her, but...you're shook up enough already, you shouldn't be expected to do all of this alone."

"Well who the hell else is gonna look after us?" he spat. "We don't have anybody!"

He didn't want to say it. He knew he shouldn't. The guy had just narrowly escaped death and didn't need to be reminded of the obvious that he'd already said he would never accept. But it was one of those cases where his mouth was quicker than his brain. "Yes you do. I'm on your side, you know." He braced himself for a good sock in the face, especially when Sokka's hands balled into fists.

But the seconds ticked by and it never came. His fingers opened and closed absently, curling as though around another hand, while he just kept staring at her.

"I know I'm asking a lot," Zuko murmured. "More than I probably should. But your nerves are shot and you'll be no good to her like this. I promise, she'll be all right. Please...trust me. Let me help."

He stood there for endless moments, looking as though he was running through every bad scenario he could possibly dream up. Most of which Zuko guessed ended with him being tossed overboard. But finally, he closed his eyes, letting out a breath.

"Don't make me regret this."

* * * *


Zuko was almost glad to not have am hourglass in the room. Because watching the sands drip through that tiny hole would have put him to join Katara faster than anything else. Instead, he merely sat at the foot of her bed, propped up against the hard metal of the wall in the most uncomfortable position he could manage, having forsaken the blanket so the damp chill of late night might keep him awake. And it did, despite his body and mind's dragging protests.

She'd saved them. Watching over her was the least he could do.

The image of her at the prow of the vessel, commanding the sea itself to throw them past the wall of ships was permanently burned to a part of his mind he'd tried to keep from acknowledging. The part that was simply awestruck by just how easily this young woman could dash an entire nation's superiority complex to pieces against the cliffs. She hadn't been kidding. The ocean really was her element, and the thought was more than a little scary.

But now, she looked so peaceful. Laying there asleep, breathing softly under the blankets with her arm lying across her chest, looking so much younger than the battle-hardened warrior he'd grown so accustomed to seeing. He felt as though he was spying, seeing a side of her he by rights shouldn't be permitted to.

Because I'm the enemy, even as I'm an ally.

Though it was hardly true and he knew it. Yet that was easy to forget when he also knew the effort it took for her and her brother to trust him at all. Not that he blamed them, given the circumstances. He'd just run out of ways to prove where his loyalties lay, and it was frustrating. Even when she wasn't trying to, his sister's influence could still thwart him.

A soft sound caught his attention, and he snapped up to see her stirring. He moved up closer to her, resting his hand on her forehead. "It's okay, we're all safe. Don't try to get up."

She shifted under his hand, whimpering a little and pushing up from the bed. "N-No...please...please let me sit up, I have to..."

He bit his lip in hesitation, but complied, gently supporting her back and helping her to move. "Careful, there..." She was pale and shaky, worse than Sokka, with that telltale sunken look in her cheeks that told him flat-out that she was feeling awful. He quickly grabbed the wash basin normally used to splash one's face in the morning, having a hunch she would need it.

She proved him right a moment later, snatching it from him in a panic with a violent heave. He grimaced in sympathy, holding her hair back as she retched, dry heaving and panting until her body finally calmed itself. He cleaned her up carefully, giving her some water to rinse with and drink before leaving the room only to empty and clean the basin. When he returned, she lay on her side, curled in a ball and shaking, whining softly into the pillow.

"Make it stop...please..."

Something in his chest twisted painfully as he knelt next to the bed, anxious and worried and not really knowing what to do. "You still feel sick?"

She nodded, biting her lip. "Stomach...killing me...owwgod..."

He swallowed thickly, giving her hand a squeeze. "Stay right here, I'll go get Uncle." He immediately felt stupid for saying it, even as he dashed out of the room and up to midship. Of course she wasn't going to move. She probably thought he was being an idiot, and at this point he half agreed.

"Uncle!" he shouted, skidding onto the deck.

Iroh turned, immediate concern in his eyes at the look Zuko knew he must be wearing. "What is it, Prince Zuko?"

"It's the girl," he said shakily. "She's... She just threw up and now she said her stomach hurts like hell..."

Iroh shook his head, muttering. "Far too early for her to be awake. Here, come with me."

Zuko followed him below decks to the kitchen, hands clenched into fists to keep them from shaking. "You know what's wrong with her?"

His uncle nodded, searching quickly through his tea stash until he found the cake he was looking for. "Bending Sickness." He broke off a small piece, starting to grind it up into a fine powder, then filling the kettle. "It's not serious, but she'll be miserable until it passes."

"What is it?"

"It happens when a Bender overexerts beyond his or her limits. The stomach is the center of a person's energy. The Sea of Chi, like I told you. When the flow if that energy is increased too quickly, the Bender's chi is thrown out of balance and the stomach gets rather unhappy." He set the kettle in his palm, breathing in deep and heating the water. "What she did back there would be enough to give far more advanced students a severe case of it."

Zuko looked at the floor, toes curling in his shoes. "How does it go away?"

"With rest," Iroh said, pouring the water into the teacup. "She needs to let her energy rebalance itself. That usually takes a full day. This tea will help her fall and stay asleep." He handed the cup to Zuko carefully. "Don't worry, nephew. These things just take time."

Zuko nodded, feeling only a little less worried as ge made his way back to Katara's room. Relieved to find she hadn't thrown up again, he set the tea on the nighttable. "C'mon, Uncle made you some tea to put you to sleep. He said you just have to rest until it passes."

She shivered, very carefully moving to sit up with his help. He pressed the cup into her trembling hands, watching her drink and trying to make the anxious flutter in his own stomach calm down. She finished it soon enough, laying back down and curling up beneath the covers as he tucked them over her. Her eyes were already half-lidded, breathing starting to slow and deepen.

"You... That was some really impressive bending," he murmured, smoothing the covers. "Just...um...don't do it again. I don't think my stomach could take another one, either." She smiled sleepily, at him, muttering one word in reply before drifting off.

"Wuss..."

* * * *


It was shortly before dawn when Sokka finally wandered in, less pale and sick and far more relaxed than before, evident even in his steps. Zuko himself barely looked up, having found it even more difficult to stay awake with the relief that she was going to be okay. He snapped up at the hand on his shoulder. "O-Oh! ...'Morning? I think."

He nodded. "It will be soon. How is she?"

"Ok, I guess" Zuko murmured without really thinking. "Uncle gave her tea to knock her out. She woke up miserable and sick earlier..."

He blinked, tensing. "What do you mean sick?"

"She overdid it on the bending. It's not serious, she just woke up too early. He said she's gotta sleep for a day." His own eyes drooped closed for a minute, unable to stop himself. "I swear, I was right here. She's sleeping like a baby..."

That hand on his shoulder relaxed a bit, and he didn't have to turn around to know Sokka was looking between him and his sister. "It's...It's okay. I'll take over. It's your turn to get some rest."

"I can go a few more, I'm fine..." he yawned.

Sokka sighed. "Bullshit. Do I have to drag you there myself? Go on."

His body was in full agreement, even as his exhausted mind warred with it. "All right, all right. Basin's in the corner if she needs it. Doubt she's gonna, but it's there just in case..."

"Thanks." He pointed to the door. "Bed. Now."

Zuko nodded, shuffling to the first large bunk, only bothering to pull his shirt off before climbing into bed, blacked out and asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.


TO BE CONTINUED...


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